Chapter 9

After a couple days of traveling, it was reaching late afternoon when Bo spotted a cave not far up the mountain.

"Do you want to see if it is clear or make camp somewhere else?" He asked Jane, pointing out the cave to her.

"Uh, we can check it out."

Jane knew what the caves and ruins of Skyrim were like, so she was naturally suspicious. They were either crawling with Draugr or crawling with Bandits, or both. They headed down the road a little farther and were just beginning to wade into the snow when they heard shouting. Grabbing his bow, Bo he motioned for Jane to do the same and followed him as he swiftly moved in the direction of the shouting. They knelt low to the ground when they reached the commotion: A young man and a massive Orc were attempting to fight off four bandits. To the left of the fight a caravan was on fire and attached to it two horses screamed with fear. Bo knocked an arrow and fired, hitting one bandit, a Dunmer by his dark blue complexion, directly in the head; alerting the Orc bandit leader of their location. He bellowed to his partners, who rushed after Jane and Bo.

Bo snarled and charged one of the bandits, attacking him with a clashing of swords. Jane nearly wet her pants, and stumbled backwards while fumbling to draw her sword. She held it dumbly up in front of her as the second bandit swung at her with a cry. Her arms jarred painfully as the man's sword met hers with a loud clash; it took all her strength to prevent her own blade from being pushed into her face. She stumbled backwards again and ducked from his sword, swinging her own at his shins. He easily jumped out of her reach and charged again, and their swords clashed against each other with a screech of steel on steel. Jane pushed him back, and jabbed for his stomach, which was parried and met with a swift kick. Her leg swung out underneath her and she landed heavily on her rump, dropping her sword in the snow.

"Jane!" Bo cried, roaring with rage. He swung his sword at the bandit he fought so hard the man's sword was ripped out of his grip and Bo took his chance and ran his sword through the man's stomach. Jane scrambled through the snow, barely escaping the second bandits sword as he swung at her on the ground, laughing at her. Then with a sickening crunch Bo's sword burst out of the man's chest, and hot blood sprayed all over Jane, who screamed. Pulling his sword out, he let the dead bandit fall to the ground in a heap of bloody snow and rushed over to pull Jane up.

"Are you alright?" He asked breathlessly, his chest heaving.

"Yeah I'm fine." Jane spluttered, trying to wipe the blood from her face. She felt it dripping down her neck, and almost puked. She barely pushed back the bile that rose in her throat and recovered her fallen sword with shaking hands. They turned back to the rest of the fight, which didn't look good. The Nord man lay on the ground, whether he was dead or unconscious she didn't know. The Orsimer, the one who wasn't a bandit, fought the last two enemies, including the beast of an Orc leader who didn't look phased at all by the fight. He roared, pounding his bare and bloodied chest. Bo rushed to attack. He dispatched the third bandit with ease and it was now two Orcs against the Orc leader. Jane stayed back, terrified by what she saw before her. The leader brandished a gigantic Dwarven war hammer with spikes, and despite it's weight swung it easily like a sword, his muscles bulging. Jane winced when the leader clipped the Orc's sword arm, hitting it with a crunch of bone and flesh. The fighter snarled, and dropped to the ground, clutching his arm.

Suddenly the leader turned and ran, heading for the cave. Bo chased after him and Jane shouted his name, starting to follow him.

"No!" The Orc kneeling on the ground suddenly reached up with his good arm and grabbed Jane's arm, pulling her back. He struggled to stand and pulled her towards the man who lay on the ground.

"Let go of me! I must go after Bo, he's going to get killed!" Her voice was shrill and she struggled to breathe, completely hysterical.

"You must help us, please I beg of you. Your Orc is stronger than you think."

Jane struggled with her desperate need to go after Bo, but in the end the Orc was right. She couldn't do anything even if she did reach them, and right now there were two injured men who needed her help.

"Is he dead?" She glanced over the fallen Nord.

"No," the Orc growled, shaking with pain. "Nasty cut on his chest but he was knocked out."

"I don't know how to heal."

"My packs… " the Orc coughed, wincing. "There are potions. And spell books, should be one for healing."

He pointed with a shaky arm to where his discarded packs lay and Jane scrambled to retrieve them, dumping the contents out and grabbing the potions.

"You'll need to clean the wounds first…try to wake… the Nord."

Jane rushed over the man and struggled to pull him onto his back. She leaned closer to hear his breathing, which was slow and irregular. She hastily uncorked a healing potion and lifted his head up, coaxing him to drink. The man coughed, but willingly drank, starting to open his eyes. She apologized to him and then stood up and grabbed his legs, dragging him to where the Orc sat, shaking uncontrollably. She ripped the man's tunic and poured some water from her canteen, gently dabbing at the cut, which was beginning to heal. Then she turned her attention to the Orc, who had lost a lot of blood and was starting to pale. His skin was clammy to touch, and he growled when she dabbed at his arm. She gave him a healing potion and then turned her attention to the second pack, searching for the spell tome. When she opened the book there was a whoosh of air and her skin tingled with new-found knowledge. She took a deep breath, feeling as though this was the fastest she had ever done anything, her heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears. The book disappeared, and she ran back to the Orc. Placing her hands just above his arm she started to murmer the words of a healing spell, watching in amazement as the sinews of his broken skin started to mend. She nearly stopped the spell, and then hastily continued until all but a horribly done scar remained.

"How does that feel?"

"Like shit." The Orc sighed in relief. "But it is closed."

Jane nodded and turned back to the Nord, kneeling beside him and placing her hand above his chest. His wound was soon closed and he took a deep breath.

"Thank you," he croaked, and Jane lifted his head again to give him some water. After he was finished he lay his head back down and sighed.

Now that the two men were tended to Jane got up and wiping her dirty hands, she started to make her way in the direction of the cave.

"You are not going after him!" The Orc once again grabbed, pulling Jane down beside him. She struggled, but it was useless, even with his injured arm he was still stronger than her, and held her firmly against him.

"Don't," she whimpered, "Let me go."

"He will come back, he is blessed by Malacath."

"Malacath? And can this so called God of yours drop down from the sky and save him?" Jane spat back, twisting around to glare at the Orsimer. His red eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared, but then he shook his head and took a deep breath.

"Do not lose hope." He replied gruffly.

Jane snorted, and turned back around, crossing her arms over her chest. Darkness started to spread, casting ominous shadows, and the caravan sat a little ways away smoldering in a burned heap. The horses stood nervously in the distance, stamping their hooves in the snow, remnants of the caravan still attached to their harnesses.

Jane became very worried, and shivered in her bloodied leather armor. She had never felt so many emotions before, and was terrified. Skyrim as a video game did not show the horrors that Jane had witnessed this night. It was too real, and she almost wished it were a dream. There's no going back a save if Bo doesn't come out of the cave alive.

Behind her the Nord coughed, and she could hear him struggling to move.

"Let me help him," she turned back to the Orsimer. His head was bowed and she thought he was asleep except his grip on her had not eased up.

"You better not run." He growled.

"I won't… I promise."

Reluctantly, he let go of Jane, and she crawled over to the Nord.

"Hey," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible, but much better than earlier."

"What exactly happened to you? That was your caravan yes?"

"Aye," the Nord coughed. "I was on my way to Whiterun when those bandits came yelling, out of the cave. Before I could take off they reached me and pulled me off my seat."

"And the Orc?" Jane glanced back at the Orsimer, who did not make any movement to show he had heard her. The Nord raised his head slightly to look over at the figure as well, then laid back down.

"I guess he was just near me when it happened. Thank you," he called out the last of his sentence. The Orc grunted, but said nothing.

Jane sat back down and tucked her legs together, wrapping her around them. Waiting was the worse part.