"It killed three of my men before we drove it off, but I do not believe we did it any serious damage," said the Imperial officer to the man who looked so much like him that the two must certainly be some sort of kin.
Terek knew the camp well. Although it had originally been established as a temporary encampment, it had stood in exactly the same spot for as long as he could remember, at the midpoint between the western plains of Dawnstar and the eastern marshes of Morthal. He had been stationed here in his earlier years, but no one from that time was still here, and he took pains to avoid the camp on his regular visits to Castle Dour.
"Which direction did it flee?" Dyus asked as his eyes traveled from Terek to the unnamed Captain and back again. He was not the only one to recognize the resemblance.
"South. There is a Stormcloak camp in that direction. It may have headed there."
"Away from our village," Lyra said before turning and looking up into the face of the tall Orsimer, "that is a blessing at least."
"Not for the Stormcloaks," Urul said, "If it had traveled east rather than south it would have landed in our lap, and we could have dispatched it quickly. The Stormcloaks will not be so lucky."
"The Stormcloaks may have more luck than the Imperials did," Uthgerd suggested as her eyes also traveled upwards, though not quite so far, to look at the man she had been visiting when the request for assistance arrived.
"If it arrives there at all," Terek said, "It is a bit of a trek, with ample opportunity to turn east or west, or even double back north again. It has been more than a day, it could be anywhere by now."
"There is nothing besides Dwemer and Nordic ruins in the regions to the south," Uthgerd added, "would a werewolf simply wander about the wilderness like a simpleton, or would it head towards a large camp filled with prey?"
"It would head to the camp, assuming it knows of its existence," Dyus said, "otherwise, after a period of fruitless wandering, it would most likely return here."
"We are too small a party to split our forces. We cannot both leave men here to protect this camp while also traveling south in search of the beast," Terek said.
"Will we conduct any sort of search? Would it not be better to travel directly to the Stormcloak camp to warn them of the beast's presence, or to assist them if they are already under attack?" Lyra asked. This was her first real mission as a member of the Silver Hand. She had trained, as had all the men and women who had been rescued from Krev's band, under the keen eyes of Hellina and Vala. She was, in fact, a Spellsword; though an untrained one. She had some talent with destruction magic; and even more skill with sling and longsword. But she had never received instruction on wielding magic and weapons simultaneously. It had required only a short time observing the woman as she demonstrated her skills, and her deficiencies, for Uthgerd to offer her opinion on the topic.
"Send her to Whiterun with a message to the Thane asking that his daughter Runa instruct her. In a month she will return to you a true Spellsword."
The idea had taken root in Hellina's mind after she had discussed it with Soran.
"It is a very good idea. Aric would certainly look favorably upon such a request if you wrote it. And we are sorely lacking in magic. You said yourself that the ability to burn a werewolf or vampire to a crisp from a safe distance was an enviable one."
"True," Soran replied, "but she is somewhat young to be let loose in Whiterun without an escort. If I do write to Aric, it will be two things I request of him, and his daughter Runa can provide both."
They had received an urgent call for assistance shortly after Hellina and Soran finished their discussion. The party of five departed almost immediately afterward; the request to Thane Aric of Whiterun delayed until their return and Soran had received the report on how Lyra performed in a real battle.
There was still little to report on her conduct, except that she had a keen mind, and a habit of speaking her mind, both in the form of statements and as questions. It was that trait that caused Terek to interrupt his reply as he considered her words.
"I believe that you are correct. Our first duty should be to warn them of the danger they may face so they can be on their guard. As Uthgerd says, the region between here and there is barren save for several ruins, none of which are home to anyone we would choose to defend. If this werewolf chooses to attack Draugr or those mechanical golems that inhabit the Dwemer structures, it has my blessing."
"We travel south then, directly to the Stormcloak camp," Dyus said as his horse began to throw her head almost as if she was in complete agreement.
"Yes. If we are quick about it, we may deliver our warning before the sun has set. I have no desire to camp in the open with that thing wandering about," Terek replied.
Their journey south was barely ten minutes old when Dyus turned his horse and rode back before turning again so he was beside Lyra when he spoke.
"Your observation was an excellent one. You are very wise for one so young."
Lyra laughed before she answered.
"No, I am very lazy. I had no desire to wander over every hill and dale in the Pale searching for that thing."
"It is not our place to ask them," Soran said after a prolonged silence as he gave careful consideration to the situation that had been described to him and what, if anything, their honor and the budding friendship some of the Hand felt for some of the Companions, required of them, "just as it was not their place to inform us."
"But they did inform us," Hellina said, "in a manner of speaking."
It was in bits and pieces that Soran and Hellina became aware, in broad detail, what reason four Companions found to ride from Whiterun into Eastmarch. Recent developments had reduced the tension between the two groups, but not to the level that Soran could ignore the group, either collectively or individually. But since one of those bits and pieces had come from Gwenyfe, and since Hellina had taken one look at the woman and realized what it was that had delayed her return to the Vigilants Hall, she did not have the heart to ask her to continue shadowing that group when it included the man who had without doubt been the reason that her return to the Vigilants Hall had been delayed.
So it was that it had been Balan and Manis that Soran had assigned to keep watch on the movements of the Companions; Manis' face was by now well known in Whiterun and drew little attention. Balan was a complete stranger, and his first appearance had startled Saadia enough that she had greeted him with bare steel in her hand. But Manis had quickly disarmed the situation, and the trio enjoyed a pleasant hour before Balan, seeing the looks that the other two exchanged, excused himself and relocated to the Drunken Huntsman. It was an excellent vantage point to observe the comings and goings through the large gate that served as the city's front door, and Balan had just enough time to make his way back to the Bannered Mare and collect Manis (after a short delay at the bottom of the stairs leading to Saadia's bedroom that Balan was certain was necessary for decorum's sake) and alert him that four Companions had just left the city and were heading towards the stables.
The delay served them well, however, putting enough distance between the two Silver Hand and the four Companions that they would not draw attention, but not so much that they risked losing sight of their prey.
"They did not look happy when they departed," Balan had said as he and Manis saddled their horses, "their faces were like stone as they walked by."
"I admit that I do not know them well enough to know whether that is normal," Manis said as he placed his left foot into the stirrup before rising to settle into the saddle.
When it was clear that their path was leading them into Eastmarch Manis had instructed Balan to report the situation to Soran and Hellina.
"It is possible that they have received a report of the location of a fragment," Hellina suggested as she and Soran sat at the long table in the main room and looked at the Redguard warrior who had stopped just inside the doorway to deliver his message.
"Was Aric with them?" Gwenyfe had asked from where she stood at the midpoint of the stairs that led to the second floor. Neither of the commanders had realized she was there until she spoke.
"I do not know, I have never met him. Two of them appeared to be twins. One was a woman. The fourth was a broad-shouldered man with gray eyes and wearing armor of a design that I have never seen before."
"That was certainly Aric, Thane of Whiterun," Soran said.
"Then I believe I know where they are bound, or at least who it is they seek," Gwenyfe said with such a look upon her face that Hellina's heart ached in sympathy.
It had been a simple disclosure on its face, barely a recounting of what Aric had said to her; but Gwenyfe acted as it if was a betrayal of divine proportions. She refused to meet anyone's eye as she repeated what Aric had said. And while they did not know with certainty which brother had wandered off on an ill-guided mission, there were very few members of the Companions that were not accounted for, either currently residing in the Silver Hands village, or in the party that was at that moment heading deeper into Eastmarch. But Soran was adamant that he would not bring the question to Ria, Njada, or Dralof.
"I will not ask either of the women to betray their fellows, and I will not ask Dralof to use his position to do so. What if our positions were reversed? What would Dralof do if asked by Ria or Njada to disclose information?"
"He would decline to give it, and then I believe he would die from a broken heart," Gwenyfe replied in such a voice that Hellina was certain that it was not Dralof that she meant, but herself.
"And I would die from shame," Hellina said as she placed her hand on the Reachwoman's arm and smiled, "We will never ask any of our members to do such a thing, never fear."
Soran and Hellina agreed that it was pointless to send Balan back out in search of Manis. Eastmarch was large, with too many trails that led to too many locations to search. It was only a short time after their meeting had concluded that Hellina found Gwenyfe in her room, at the window that had become, after her return from the Vigilants Hall, her usual haunt.
"You did not betray him," she said simply to the red-haired woman without any sort of explanation of who him was, "in truth, he gave you no information that could be betrayed. In that, he did you a kindness."
"His kindness extended much farther than that," Gwenyfe replied, her face still turned towards the window, her voice reflecting off the glass panes, "I truly thought that I loved him before our day together, but what I felt was nothing compared to what I feel now. It is all-consuming; every fiber of my being burns with it. Can one's life change so utterly in less than a day?"
"In many instances, I would say no," Hellina replied as she stepped further into the room so that she was within arms reach of her friend, "but in just as many cases, my answer is most certainly yes."
"I am useless in my present condition, I admit it freely. I feel as if I reside in a persistent fog that does not allow me to see past my arm's length. I cannot focus on anything for long."
"I know that feeling very well," Hellina said with a smile and a laugh, "and so does Soran. Both of us wandered that same foggy landscape in the days and weeks after we were married."
Gwenyfe turned her face towards her friend finally and answered one smiling face with another.
"I remember it quite well," she said with damp eyes, "It was the source of much discussion. You had known each other for an age before that. Did it really make so much difference to be officially wed?"
"If you have seen his face when I asked him, you would understand all. It was like looking into the noonday sun for too long. The image of his beaming face, his tears dripping off of his chin, stayed with me for a week afterward. I can still call it to my mind with little effort. My heart overflows each time I remember his face, and the sound of his voice as he accepted."
Gwenyfe turned her face back towards the glass as her throat tightened and her eyes continued to shed tears.
"I envy you your husband. I will never marry; not unless I marry Aric, and that will never come to pass. He told me as much at the beginning. I knew full well that our season together would be short. I do not regret a second of it, even though it will break my heart when it ends."
"Do not think of that now. Enjoy the season while it lasts. Treasure it as a beautiful memory afterward, in the years to come. But for now, perhaps you should avoid chopping wood, or working the anvil, or anything else where you might cause yourself an injury; at least until the fog has lifted."
Gwenyfe's smile broadened as she wiped her eyes.
"I believe that would be wise."
It was a bloody sight with bodies, some whole but most in parts, scattered over an area that lay just west of a dragon mound approximately half the distance from the Imperial camp that was their starting point to the Stormcloak camp that had been their intended destination; but the bodies that littered the ground were neither Nord nor Imperial.
They had been traveling overland, taking the straightest - shortest route possible between the two points. None of them could be certain what route the Thalmor had been marching, or from where they came or to where they were going when fate brought them to the place from which they would never leave.
"They must have been on the road when they were attacked," Urul said, "or they had just left it, and continued north on the dirt path when the road itself turned east."
The five of them sat quietly on their horses, who were not at all happy to be even this close to the dragon that had gorged himself on no less than six Thalmor soldiers; it was hard to determine an exact count, and none of them had any intention of investigating.
"Would it have come from the dragon mound nearby?" Dyus asked.
"No. That is a burial mound. Were Alduin still alive it could have originated from there; the World Killer had been resurrecting dragons that were long since dead and buried. Aric and I stood nearby as one such dragon emerged from his grave, only to be sent back there again by Aric almost as quickly."
Lyra's eyes grew large at the mention of a dragon emerging from its grave.
"You fought a dragon?" she asked in awe.
"I fought several in Aric's company, at least I did my part. It is Aric who can rightly claim those victories. If you ever see him battle a dragon with your own eyes you will understand. He is a force of nature."
"Bad fortune then for these dismembered souls that he was not here when they were attacked," Terek said.
The dragon had been nibbling on some nondescript body part but had ceased its effort and appeared now to be falling asleep.
"It blocks our path, awake or asleep," Urul said, as Terek and Dyus stood up in their stirrups and scanned the surrounding region, "do we detour east or west?"
"East, towards the dragon mound, then south to pick up the main road," Terek said.
"Need I remind you that those scattered bodies most probably also traveled the main road when they were attacked?" Uthgerd asked.
"We will be cautious, and as silent as we can be," Terek said as the five of them continued to look at the dragon, whose snoring could now be heard clearly, "something tells me that we have little to fear."
It was well after dark when Terek, Dyus, Urul, Lyra, and Uthgerd finally arrived at the Stormcloak camp and the group of men who had seen neither hide nor hair of a werewolf.
"Nothing like you describe," the Stormcloak commander answered when Terek asked his question, "but a man wandered into our camp shortly before sunset. He was naked, and said that he had been attacked and robbed. He had wounds, and a fair amount of blood on him. He asked for clothes and a large mug of ale. We gave him both, and offered him a bed but he declined and shortly afterward he left."
"Thank you," Terek said, "if you do not object, we will make camp close by in case it appears during the night."
"Do you believe that it will appear during the night?" Uthgerd asked as they were setting up camp, the skepticism clear in her voice.
"No, I believe that the man who visited them earlier was who attacked the Imperial camp."
"We have known for some time that it is not only the Inner Circle that can transform from man to werebeast," Urul said, "though we do not know why or how they came to be so cursed."
"It makes our search that much harder," Dyus said as he pounded the final stake for his and Terek's tent into the ground, "Once that man cleans up and shifts his clothes we must wait for him to transform again to find him, and when he does that he will leave another trail of death."
"The closest settlement is Stonhills," Terek said, "unless he has a shack nearby, that is where he will go. We will leave at first light. Uthgerd, will you stand watch with Lyra? We are enough that each watch will only be two hours."
"It would be my pleasure," Uthgerd replied as she looked at the diminutive young woman and smiled, "I have some interesting tales that I can tell her regarding Aric."
