Chapter 67: The Fifth House, p.2
Hey, hey, heave-ho
Hoist the sails for the winds now blow
Away, away, our captain decrees
To the unseen shores only Topal can see
Our Niben's bark is from ancestral trees
Rooted deep in the earth; limbs spread to the breeze
Breath of the world, drink Aetherius Light
Dance upon the peaks, seafoam sprite
The old world's behind us. The new world's ahead
Topal's laughter drives off the dread
Hunger's the compass that guides all our hands
To unseen mystery lands
Hey, hey, heave-ho
Hoist the sails for the winds now blow
Away, away, our captain decrees
To the unseen shores only Topal can see
Ancestors watch us! We're traveling far
Ancestors guide us! We follow the stars
Aetherius surround us, arena of dreams
Winds to our sails on the starlit seas…
Salen of Skywatch had a strong, clear voice with an easy-going accent. He was giving a free performance in the courtyard of the Bard's College. He'd cleaned up a bit, getting his hair and beard tidily trimmed and wearing clothes of better quality cloth.
His songs were first in Altmeris, his voice and skillful harp playing drawing in the people, then he'd repeat the songs with translated lyrics. His playlist had subjects that the Nords here could relate to, like this one, a sea shanty. Simple songs that celebrated exploration, life, companionship, and homecomings. Yet there was a tinge of disconnect with unfamiliar hero names, places, and things only the Aldmer knew. Places that had vanished before the Nords had left the continent of Atmora.
As expected, some smartass challenged him to sing the Dragonborn Comes song. Salen didn't know that one.
"It's a popular song. If you're going to be in Skyrim for any time, might as well learn it now," said Viarmo, high elf, headmaster of the Bard's College for the past century. He looked around. "Jorn, come. You sing it." A young Nord emerged from the crowd, grinning enthusiastically.
An elegant lady also emerged from the crowd and raised a flute to her lips. An elderly lady with a lute joined in. Other young bard trainees clustered together. Viarmo drew a short wand from an inner pocket of his coat. Its tip glowed.
Curtis had discovered Viarmo was a sound wizard when he had worked with the headmaster for the soundtrack in the Azura's Box production. His skills in the basics of sound manipulation, by Dwemer standards, were considered solid and essential for anyone interested in tonal engineering.
Viarmo set a simple sound amplification spell. His whispered instructions were heard by all the lead instrumentalists.
Jorn did his solo of The Dragonborn Comes. The college masters provided background instrumentals to his singing and drumming. When the song concluded, they transitioned into a grand choral performance of The Song of the Dragonborn. Sung in Dovazhul, the language of Dragons, the performance thundered throughout. Viarmo's spells carried the song throughout the city while protecting the ears of the immediate audience.
Applause came from all parts of the city. Even the courier from the Blue Palace applauded before delivering a written warning from Jarl Elisif against such a city-wide disruption.
Curtis had hoped to walk away in the dispersing audience, but suddenly Viarmo was in front of him.
"Hey, Viarmo. Great music. Just passing by while shopping for spices. Well, gotta go. Gotta prep for a dinner meeting, and a pot of curry needs these peppers."
"'Don't start nothing; won't be nothing,' is that a threat? It sounds like it, but the exact message escapes me," said Viarmo.
Curtis frowned. Oh, yeah, he did say that to Salen a couple days ago.
"I see Salen talked to you. Yeah, it was a threat. Simple, really. 'Don't start making nothing but trouble, or I will make you be nothing but dead.' Or, in other words, 'You don't bother me, I won't kill you.' Clear enough?"
"Oh, I see. Very Dunmer. 'Know that battle is a blessing. Know that death is an eventuality. Know that you are dust in the eyes of Boethiah,'" said Viarmo, quoting from a worship book for Boethiah.
"Something like that. So, about Salen, what's your opinion on him?"
Viarmo shrugged. "It's been decades since I've made any visits back to Summerset, and correspondence with friends has likewise slowed to nothing, so I have little information on who the favored artists are or popular works. But Salen certainly has skill and talent. I've cautioned him on inadvertently offending Nords by carelessly expressing views that may have become common in the Altmer courts and salons he's performed in. But it may take a beating or two to set those boundaries in place."
"Somehow, I doubt it. I get the feeling any angry drunks trying to mess with him would end up seriously hurt." Curtis glanced towards Salen. The hatchet was missing, but the knife was there in a sheath strapped to his thigh this time. On second thought, he'd bet Salen had the hatchet strapped to his back and hidden by his shortcape. "Anyhow, I really gotta get going. Nothing sadder than a curry with no heat."
Sudden thunder overhead, loud enough to shake the air. "Sheogorath!" several people cried. But no, sternly following the thunder was the basso chorus: Alduin mahlaan!
"Tis the Greybeards! What do they say?"
"'Alduin is fallen,'" said Curtis quietly to Viarmo. "The Dragonborn has won. Now we pray she returns from Sovngarde."
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
He heard explosions and rushed out to the large balcony. Magical streams of fire, ice, and lightning challenged the heavens. Balls of fire exploded. Amid that chaos, messenger pigeons were descending upon Solitude and Hjaalmarch. One landed by his hand. He gently picked it up and removed the message tube on its leg.
Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes…
The Dragonborn had returned from Sovngarde.
Others in the town had gotten the same message, and the Morivanni mages were celebrating with displays of power.
You'll know, you'll know, the Dragonborn comes…
From Solitude came the unified roar of war trumpets from Castle Dour; evidently, General Tullius no longer cared if the Thalmor knew he supported the heretical (anti-Dominion) Dragonborn.
The Dragonborn Comes song thundered out from the Bards College. Curtis doubted the Blue Palace was going to penalize them for that.
"Oh! The news has spread," said Onmund, the Alterations expert from Winterhold. He and his two companions joined Curtis on the terrace. They had arrived a week ago to look over the proposed site of the future naval base. Winterhold mages would be hired for the job, which would be the Alterations department. Onmund, as Tolfdir's assistant, had been sent to negotiate schedules and fees.
"When did she actually come back?" asked Curtis.
"Two weeks ago, I think. Naturally, she first went to her husband and then showed up at the College a week later. She's officially acknowledged Urag as the new Archimage, saying it's only right that she surrender her position to those truly devoted to the arts and that she has other priorities now that Alduin is gone."
"Yeah. Her family. But I'll bet the Dominion is freaking out," mused Curtis aloud. "The Dragonborn is on the loose with no Dragons to distract her. Her power is proven, and she's a known enemy of the Dominion. She will naturally support her cousin, shoring up the power of a weakened Imperial throne. It's no secret that the entire Felix family would like nothing better than to trash the Concordat and get the Thalmor out of the Empire. It's gonna get interesting, that's for sure."
His phone chimed. "Scuse me," he said to the wizards. He went back inside. The hand mirror/telecommunications device was top-secret. Across the face of the hand mirror/phone was the ID of Revyn Sadri, but the face that appeared was Dragonborn Helsette. "Good to see you, lady. Glad you made it out. Enjoy yourself in Sovngarde?"
"Hello, Curtis. Yes, it was an interesting time. Almost everything was as you told me it would be."
"As long as it was helpful, that's the most important. Again, really, really glad you made it out. So, what can I do for you?"
"House meeting two weeks from now in Aldmora; all the heads of the Line families to start. Later, there will be meetings with the other blood families not under House Mora's banner. We'll be discussing current projects and future projects, especially in light of Emperor Mede planning to announce at the end of this year his retirement, abdication, and Cousin Nicky's coronation in the year after."
"I see. War council."
"Yes."
"Got it. Anything in particular you want me to bring to the table?"
"Nothing I can think of off hand."
"Okay. Oh. And I guess you should hear what I've heard coming out of the Thalmor propaganda machine about House Mora being the Fifth House of Trouble. A reasonable angle of attack considering the two Dragonborns of this Era and the last are Morrowind Dragonborns."
"Oh?" She chuckled. "And who is this Fifth Prince? Talos?"
"You got it."
"I see. Shor was never considered a Divine. On the other hand, he is not exactly a Daedra. What vice do we represent?"
"Overweening Pride," said Curtis, grinning.
"What idiocy!" She laughed and said something to others off-screen. By their laughter, Curtis identified Revyn and Ambarys. "If that's the Thalmor's latest attempt to discredit us in Morrowind, they must try harder."
"Got it. So, anything else?"
"Yes. I'm planning to come to Solitude in the next two days. Will you still be there?"
"Yeah, no problem delaying my schedule to meet up with you. I'm dying to hear more details about the real Sovngarde."
"Oh, please don't die," she said, laughing. "You are too important to vanish from the world again. I want to hear the details about your project with St. Vivec."
Two days later, a red Dragon glided low over Solitude. The ghost of the Dragonborn jumped from its back, landing silently in Castle Dour's courtyard, and resumed flesh and bone. General Tullius and the many soldiers crowded into the area roared exultantly in the faces of the grim Thalmor justiciars and soldiers watching from the battlements around their embassy outpost.
Jarl Elisif finally had her parade. Bards, with drum, flute, song, and dance, preceded the march of the Dragonborn and General Tullius and legionnaires from Castle Dour to the Blue Palace. The Dragonborn was in dragon-scale armor of an ominous black hue. Her Legion escorts were in their finest parade armor.
The Red Dragon flew overhead, roaring or laughing? It perched atop Castle Dour as the Dragonborn passed the gates into the Blue Palace.
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
"Getting Odahviing to cart you around? Flashy," said Curtis, meeting her in front of Tel Windstad. He bowed and then exchanged cheek kisses with her.
"I can levitate and teleport, but I'm not yet good enough to get here on my own power," Helsette countered. "Besides, Revyn and Gaia were coming with me. Odahviing was kind enough to fly us. Thank you for having all that seafood waiting for him."
"Hey, no problem. Now, let's go up. Revyn's been fretting while you were away."
Helsette smirked. "Old fool. He knows how clingy she can be."
"Yup. He was afraid she'd find more excuses to keep you another day."
Curtis let her go up first. He sorted through some mail and fixed a lunch tray. After judging those two had enough time for canoodling, he floated up to join them.
"She wanted me to stay for an open court meeting with Lady Elenwen's replacement, Meran Elsinor, Emissary and Sapiarch of Foreign Folklore Studies," Helsette said after they'd finished lunch and were having tea outside on the balcony.
"Wow. Tells us right there what they think of us. They sent a profiler instead of a beat cop."
"A what? Profiler? Beat cop? What are those?"
"A 'profiler' is something like a hunter and scholar specializing in elusive prey. Crimes done in the dark by an unknown predator. Ghosts. A profiler gathers the sparse evidence, the clues like time and place and victims, combines that with his understanding of people, and from all that, he may be able to describe to the regular hunting dogs — the justiciars in this case — the enemy's habits, patterns of attack, and what to be on the alert for. A 'beat cop' is an ordinary guard or soldier."
"I see, " said Revyn. "According to Faralda, her cousin makes thoughtful studies of other people's old stories and legends to better understand what children are taught to believe in, and which influences what they will believe as adults. She warned me he will try to understand the Dragonborn legends and find a way to twist it to a purpose."
"Yup, yup. And a sapiarch. That's a professor, right? So we're talking about a master-level practitioner and instructor. Miles above Elenwen, a military cop turned politician. So the Dominion is getting serious about eliminating the Dragonborn threat. Hm, you think it might endear us to the other proper Morrowind Houses knowing that the Dominion fears us enough to try to kill us before we're fully established?"
"Oh, no doubt about that," said Revyn. "After the family council, my wife and I will take a goodwill tour of Morrowind to strengthen relations. I had wished you could come along, but I understand your obligations will not permit it."
"Promo tour? I hear ya. I kinda wish I could come along; I like socializing and that kind of stuff. But, yeah, too many projects I need to concentrate on."
"Yes. Your latest project. We need to discuss that because I'm sure we'll also need Vivec's help," said Revyn, leaning forward with a smile.
Related story(s): #46 Inside the Box