Chapter 66: The Fifth House
Solitude's port was expanding, and Curtis had been summoned for consultation. He was here to recommend this contract go to Darylin. Darylin Doveto was the leader of the company of Morrowind engineers helping with the Breakwater Harbor project in Winterhold. He and his crew had come from Vivec City and from families of civil engineers who had built and maintained the massive cantons.
The high queen had finally listened to her advisors — Revyn Sadri, husband of Thane Faro-Felix (aka The Dragonborn), and Ambassador Idgrod Ravencrone the Elder, currently serving in Cyrodiil as Skyrim's representative on the High Council — to build up Skyrim's naval defense in Haafingar. Solitude's current harbor was built for trade ships. The city didn't have the land to dedicate warships, naval facilities, and personnel housing, so the site would be on the north coast.
Curtis and his people didn't have time for this project. The politics, the finances, and the security problems (the Aldmeri Dominion still had their embassy on the highest observation point in Haafingar) weren't worth it. And they were already over-capacity for projects.
It would be the first time for Skyrim to officially have its own naval fleet independent of the Empire. And their ships would be built in Windhelm; this was an agreement worked out by Lord Sadri.
A further finger snap at the faltering Empire, that the Stormcloak Alliance had no fear that the Empire-loyal Holds would turn against their rebel brethren.
The Dominion was already pushing for rights to dock their ships at the future military port.
However, High Queen Elisif, backed by General Tullius, would only allow them Northwatch Keep and its tiny dock as their naval base. A small one. And the Dominion would have to pay for its development.
They were forbidden to interact with the inhabitants of Volkihar Castle.
As a consolation gift, Queen Elisif and General Tullius would negotiate with King Stormcloak for the release of a company of Dominion marines captured some years ago — Justiciar Ancarion and his crew that had disappeared during their investigation of Solstheim and Winterhold and Eastmarch's coastline activities.
Curtis wanted no part in that political naval battle.
The Stormcloak embassy was a stubby mushroom tower in the Hjaalmarch town of Tel Windstad across the bay from Solitude. A dark elf building that the Stormcloak Nords didn't object to once they discovered the air conditioning properties of a giant living mushroom made staying in the humid climate of Hjaalmarch bearable.
Brunwulf Free-Winter and Aval Atheron looked up from the papers they were reading when Curtis walked in.
"How went the talks? Were you successful in getting the High Queen to accept your substitute?"
"Yeah. So now your excellencies need to meet with Edelfin to discuss schedules and covering Darylin's penalty fee for breaking the employment contract with Winterhold when he takes this job."
Brunwulf Free-Winter had been finally acknowledged a thane of Windhelm and appointed the first ambassador to Solitude. His responsibilities were government relations and public affairs. Aval Atheron was the second ambassador and handled trade talks, sparing Free-Winter from dealing with that snake, Thane Erikur, Solitude's Trade Minister.
Falk Fire-beard had retired as Haafingar's prime minister and finally proposed to Thane Bryling. However, despite retirement and marriage, he remained one of the High Queen's advisors. Falk's replacement was, thankfully, not Thane Erikur. Instead, it was Count Cascabel, Edelfin Greenleaf, a Bosmer-Nord whose elven blood was further evident in his short, slender stature and reputation as a master archer in the Legion. His sister, who served as his secretary, also looked Nord, except for her ruby-colored eyes. She was also an expert sharpshooter and well-known bowyer specializing in applewood and juniper small bows.
"It won't be too expensive," said Aval. "Their contract was to end in a year and, really, there was nothing major left that required their specialized services. For anything left, they are planning to leave two of their engineers behind to close out their tasks and finish training their Nord students. Winterhold was not intending to renew the contract with the company."
"Yeah. But no need for Solitude to know that," said Curtis, shrugging. "Still, it is breaking a contract, y'know."
"Yes, and I shall squeeze as much compensation for Winterhold as I can," said Aval. "Anything else?"
"Yeah." Curtis put a book on the table. "If you haven't read this book already, I suggest you read it. It's called 'The Rear Guard.' It's about Edelfin's grandfather. Edelfin and his sister, I'd say, are just as sharp. You do know that Lord Revyn was the one who recommended to Jarl Elisif to consider bringing them on board to replace Falk, right? The Cascabel Estates have been business partners with the Felixes and Lord Sadri.
"The grandfather?" said Brunwulf.
"I see. They look like Nords, but they have mer life spans then," said Aval.
"Seems so. Probably not the full Bosmer average of three hundred years, but longer than the average Nord. Edelfin's served three Legion terms, so sixty years of service. He's maybe around a century old. Even with gray hairs, he still looks too young to shave to most of them. His sister Milil, or 'Milly' as the queen calls her, looks like her biggest concern should be how to style her dolly's hair, never mind that she's ninety.
"Then there's the bows. They wear small sixty-pound bows instead of swords or knives. Most don't realize they could draw those in a flash and shoot the core out of a tossed apple. Probably the same apple."
"They wear bows in court?" asked Brunwulf, looking amused.
"Like Nords wear their swords, axes, and daggers into court, yeah."
Aval chuckled and said, "They sound like my late Aunt Hliassa. Two centuries old but looking to the Nords like a fresh-off-the-refugee-boat innocent child. It helped her get soft-hearted protectors who prevented our wealth from being plundered from the dock warehouses until she found housing she could buy."
"Yeah. Well, have fun. Oh, and the shops in town are carrying Cascabel wines, ales, and hard ciders."
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
Curtis went shopping. The town market had expanded since last he was here. While it primarily featured products gathered and produced in Hjaalmarch, it had expanded its spice section to rival Solitude's market. Solitude traded heavily with High Rock and Hammerfell. Tel Windstad garnered trade with Morrowind, Elsewyr, and Black Marsh.
Ri'saad had established a small warehouse here to make it easier for his caravans to re-supply merchandise from Elsewyr. Curtis stopped in because the manager there had left a message at the Tel Windstad tower that two barrels of tree sap he had ordered through Ma'dran had arrived. He was delighted to discover the manager was an elegant calico-coated Alfiq, a rare sight and so different from the usual Cathays wandering Skyrim. His impulse to stroke the pretty manager under the chin was dampened by the presence of her assistants/store guards — tall and bulky Cathay-Rahts, the heavy-weights of the upright bipedal forms, each weighing in around three hundred-plus pounds without their weapons and armor.
Rubber tree sap. Not that Curtis's company, Staerk-Skjold Consultants, hadn't already been introducing rubber to the market — synthetic, petroleum-based rubber. But he also wanted to introduce natural rubber, which didn't rely on Dwemer tech to be manufactured.
'Course, it might prove a boon to Elsewyr and, in a roundabout way, to the Dominion. Guess that couldn't be helped.
He next went to the new bi-valve farming operations House Mora had started. The waters here were perfect for shellfish farming. Curtis's interests were in the shells and their potential uses, from soil improvement to health supplements to ceramics to quicklime for Roman concrete.
The concrete was perfect for shoreline building and waterway projects. The natural porousness of the shells was useful for non-magical water filtration, and water filters were needed in Morrowind and Solstheim. Heck, a portable water filter was something any traveler, adventurer, or soldier could use.
Of course, the foods and sauces of oysters were nothing to snap at. Scallops, clams, mussels, geoducks — all yummy stuff. A little ice magic made shipping to other Holds and countries possible.
He had come prepared, having bought a basket of lime-like citrus and wasabi-like stalks shipped in from Summerset. Plus butter, white wine, and a wok pan. He snatched a large geoduck and gave the giant clam a quick parboil to make shucking the skin off its trunk easier. Geoduck sashimi. Yum. Toss the water, then drop butter in the hot pan. The main body of the geoduck was sliced and then tossed into the sizzling butter. A quick saute. Add white wine, deglaze, and dump onto a clay plate.
A shadow fell across his wok. "Such delicious smells from such an ugly creature," snickered the newcomer.
Curtis arched a brow as he looked at the speaker. Altmer. Summerset accent. Black hair and a shaggy beard, gold eyes, ruddy, rough complexion of an outdoorsman. The mer's clothes were clean enough for a traveler. Handax and knife at his belt, a bulky backpack, and a covered instrument that might be a harp.
"Yeah. People generally think geoducks are pretty ugly. Childish ones even get weird thoughts."
"'Ducks?' That thing is the farthest image of a duck one could ever imagine."
"Hey, I didn't name the things. I just know how to cook 'em. Care for a bite?"
"May I so impose?"
"Yeah. One of these can feed four people. I could eat the entire thing myself, but I've got a dinner date, and I probably shouldn't stuff myself before then."
"Then my deepest thanks, good sir. Ah, and the taste of home. A miracle!" Curtis watched askance as the Altmer scooped up a hellfire amount of wasabi and ate it in one go.
"So, you from Summerset?"
"The correct term would be 'Alinor,'" the Altmer snickered again. "But I'm fine with Summerset. It is the name I grew up with. Speaking of names, forgive my lapse in manners. I am Salen of Skywatch, a wandering bard."
"Curtis of House Mora in Eastmarch."
"'House Mora in Eastmarch?'" Salen repeated, puzzled. "Is there such a thing as a Dunmer House in Skyrim?"
"If House Hlaalu can have a city in the Empire, don't see why not. But House Mora is a bastard house of Dunmer, Imperial, and Nord bloodlines."
"Ah, wait. I have heard talk of such a House, but it was named the House of Dragons for its members are the two self-proclaimed demi-god Dragonborns and the Imperial Crown Prince. The Thalmor have further added a new name, the House of Heresy. Possibly the new fifth House of the Dunmer headed by Talos — the House of Self-Inflated Delusional Pride. In part because it almost sounds like they named themselves after Hermaeus Mora."
"Mm," Curtis growled softly, his initial courtesy friendliness going cold. "You talk to Thalmor a lot?"
"I came on the same boat as them. A careless pair who don't know just how much sound an ocean breeze can carry, or that we bards train ourselves to be sensitive to sounds and words. After all, news bits, stories, and rumors are part of the trade."
"So, what brings you to Skyrim?"
"Dragons, of course. Hearing that those fantastic beings have returned, how could I stay away?"
"You been to the Bards College in Solitude?"
"Of course. It's only a courtesy to introduce myself to them. And it was wonderful to hear that the Dragonborn herself is a member." He patted his backpack. "I even bought copies of her works to study."
"Not much to study," grunted Curtis. "Light reading. She keeps her tunes and lyrics simple. Nothing too complicated or overly clever. The Voice is a kind of cheat, giving her power and attraction. Without it, she's a decent singer. She could be a lot better if she studied and voice-trained a bit more, but…" he shrugged, "…she has other things going on in her life, so no time to study music."
"I hear she died after the dragons attacked Whiterun. No one has seen her since. And the College of Winterhold has appointed a new Archimage."
"Huh. Well, I'm hoping she hasn't died. We'll know she failed if Alduin returns to burn the world."
"The world is a big place, and not all of us are ignorant, magic-hating Nords. We will fight back and win even as we've won against Mehrunes Dagon's attempt to take over our world. After all, if Nords managed to win against the dragons, others with greater numbers and powers can do the same."
"Maybe so," said Curtis in a neutral tone. "But Alduin might just be the messenger that the world is coming to its final age. The tipping point. The old 'win the battle, lose the war' type scenario."
The Altmer made a dismissive snorting sound. "If this 'Alduin' creature returns, I'm sure the great Dragonborn might have scratched it enough that others may competently end its threat."
"Oh-kay! I gotta go. 'Scuse me while I clean up. Here, you can have the rest if you want," said Curtis, abruptly standing up with the wok in his hands and dumping its contents onto the serving plate, which he pushed towards the Altmer. He quickly gathered his cooking ingredients and tools.
"I'm sorry. Have I offended you in some way?"
"If you don't know, I suggest you revisit Dean Viarmo and get some clues. And for the record, if Talos is the fifth prince of the House of Troubles, I say as a proud member, 'Don't start nothing, won't BE nothing.' Sing that back to Summerset."
Related story(s): #6 Ring of Fire; #28-29 Partial Recall; #60 Ancient Knowledge