Chapter 9
Rayya knew Julia had failed to resist the effects of a Nord's fearsome battlecry, but she could see what the Breton girl, in her panic, did not: the Bosmer archer drawing his bow and taking aim on her.
Enraged, with her directive to protect the Dragonborn's daughter uppermost in her mind, Rayya called upon the reserve of strength deep within her and lashed out with her scimitars, decapitating the Nord in front of her. Dropping her scimitars and drawing a bow of her own – a beautiful weapon of Redguard make – she fired off two arrows in quick succession towards the Bosmer, who had already pulled the string back to his ear.
The first arrow hit the bow itself, causing the elf's shot to go wide. The second planted itself in the mer's throat. He gargled as he went down.
Scooping up her swords, Rayya chased after the panicked Dovahkiir, catching up to her before she reached the tower.
"Julia! Julia!" she said sternly, grabbing the girl by her shoulders and giving her a not-so-gentle shake. "Listen to me—"
"You never should have come here," a voice growled from inside the tower.
"Shit!" Rayya spat, thrusting Julia away and pulling out her scimitars again.
The bandit that emerged from the ruined building brandished a sword and dagger of his own, and the Redguard smiled with confidence. This type of combat was one she knew well.
The two opponents circled around each other warily, as Julia pressed herself back against the tower wall, making herself as small as she could.
She was furious with herself, deep inside. She knew it was merely a power given to Nords to intimidate their enemies. She had heard it voiced on many occasions. But it had never been directed at her before, and she had never experienced the gut-wrenching fear that made her bowels want to empty themselves unbidden. She knew that the remedy for her panic was a simple Calm spell, but her mind was so overshadowed with terror, she couldn't focus on her magicka to make it happen. All she could do right now was let it run its course, and witness the dance of death choreographed by Rayya and the brigand in front of her.
"I can't wait to count out your coin," the Imperial gloated.
"Amazing," Rayya quipped drily. "I didn't think you could count that high."
The bandit feinted with the dagger, but Rayya didn't fall for it. She continued to circle around, attempting to put herself between the bandit and her charge. Her opponent didn't seem to make the connection, and kept himself a respectable distance from the two keenly-honed scimitars that waved deceptively languid in front of him.
Over their heads, Rayya heard arrowshots going off, and realized there was still at least one more bandit on top of the tower, sniping them with arrows.
"Julia, get inside," she ordered her charge, but the Breton girl was still too terrified to move.
Giving it up for now, and realizing that even if the younger girl took refuge inside, she would be an easy target if the archer decided to come down, Rayya concentrated on the job at hand.
Dwarven bronze flashed suddenly in the moonslight as the Imperial leaped forward to strike. Rayya blocked the blow with one blade and swept out with the other, catching the rogue off guard. It was a glancing blow, however, and only sliced through his leather armor, not drawing blood. The brigand retaliated with a swipe of the dagger in his left hand, and Rayya was forced to disengage and leap backward to avoid getting hit. The movement brought her more closely between Julia and the Imperial, however, so she didn't complain.
More arrows hit the dirt around them, but closer to her than to the bandit. He, however, seemed more than a little concerned at their proximity.
"Get down here, you worthless skeever!" he barked. "Stop trying to hit us with that flimsy bow of yours!"
"Get stuffed!" came the retort from above, and the Imperial swore under his breath.
"It's so hard to find good help these days," Rayya mocked, allowing the corner of her mouth to lift.
"I'll deal with that craven coward once I've finished you two off," he vowed, rushing in for another attack.
From the other side of the wall that divided Helgen, they heard another booming Shout.
"GAAN LAH HAAS!"
For a moment, the bandit wavered. Unconsciously, his weapons dipped slightly.
"What the fuck was that?" he squeaked in surprise.
"That was my Thane," Rayya said, smugly satisfied, taking advantage of the man's distraction. Her blades flashed and his body hit the ground. Staring up at her, the life ebbing from his eyes, she added, "You might know him as the Dragonborn." Whether he did or not, she would never know, and cared less. Sheathing her scimitars, she hurried to Julia's side, shaking the girl once more.
"Come on, now," she urged. "Shake this off! There's nothing to fear!"
Julia heard the words penetrate the miasma of horror that clouded her mind.
There's nothing to fear!
She shook her head. "No," she said slowly. "There's not." Reaction set in, and she felt the tell-tale stinging in her eyes and nose, and the constricting of her throat that told her she was just about to break down and cry, but Rayya shook her again.
"Pull yourself together, Miss Julia," she insisted. "We still have one more to deal with. This way!" She led the way into the tower, and after taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, and another moment to grab the bandit's Dwarven sword, Julia followed.
The stairs that led up were made of closely-set stone, and wrapped around the inner circumference of the structure. This was typical of many Nord fortresses, Julia knew. Most of the time, they led to an upper floor before opening to the top of the tower, and this one was no exception. There was a large hole in one side, through which Julia could see the ruins of the inn she had blindly rushed through in her panic.
As Rayya's head cleared the top floor, Julia heard the twang of a bowstring, and the Redguard woman staggered back, bumping into her on the stairs.
"Rayya!" she exclaimed.
"I'm alright," the Steward insisted. "She didn't hit me. I should have expected that. She's going to shoot at anything that comes up the stairway."
"How do we take her out, then?" Julia asked in a low voice.
"By considering our resources," Rayya told her quietly. "We need to come up with a plan."
"You can't hide from me forever!" the archer called out, though there was a desperate tone in the woman's voice.
"I have an idea," Julia ventured. She was eager to make up for her earlier failure, though she knew Rayya would never call it that.
"Does it put you in danger?" the Steward demanded.
"Not if you act quickly," Julia assured her, and hurriedly outlined her plan. Rayya nodded.
"It's a better idea than most," she agreed. "Go ahead. I've got your back."
Julia nodded and silently summoned a Flame Atronach, sending it up the stairs ahead of them. The archer's shriek of dismay, followed by explosions of firebolts, drifted down, and Rayya nodded with satisfaction.
"Now!" she urged, and the two rushed up the remaining stone steps to double-team – or in this case, triple-team – the archer along with the Atronach. The fight didn't last long, even with Julia hanging back and peppering the woman with Destruction spells.
"You did reasonably well," Rayya praised. "This is the sort of thing you'll face, if you travel much with your father. We'd better go back and see if he needs help."
The Redguard Steward headed back down the stairs, but Julia's eyes noticed a chest sitting to one side of the rude table at which the archer had been seated, before they arrived. Feeling the lockpicks in her belt pouch, she shrugged to herself.
"Well, why not?" she murmured. "Why shouldn't I?"
It was not a complicated lock, and she had it open before Rayya noticed she had not followed.
"Miss Julia?"
"I'll be right there!" she called down.
The chest contained a small sum of coins and a few gemstones, which she put in her belt pouch. There was also a necklace of a strange design she didn't recognize, but thought her parents might know more about. They'd been all over Skyrim, after all. She stuffed it in her pouch along with the rest and hurried to join Rayya.
When they caught up with the Dragonborn, the courtyard in front of the Keep was littered with the bodies of nearly a dozen bandits.
"Whole bunch of them came out of the Keep," he explained, looking a bit mussed-up and breathing a bit more heavily than was natural, but unharmed.
"I should have been here to help, Thane," Rayya said, crestfallen.
Marcus shook his head. "That wasn't a criticism, Rayya," he said kindly. "My daughter's safety was more important. That's why I sent her with you. What did you find on that side of town?"
Rayya reported their encounter, glossing over Julia's moments of panic. Marcus eyed his daughter carefully.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"I am now," she nodded miserably. "Thank the Divines for Rayya! I'd have been lost without her. I didn't realize how intimidating a Nord's battlecry can be."
Marcus nodded. "Now you know," he said simply. "And perhaps next time you'll be ready if you get caught in one again. So, don't beat yourself up too much about it, alright? We all have our weaknesses."
"Not you, Dad," Julia smiled, her good mood recovering. "You aren't afraid of anything."
He turned away then, as if to keep his innermost thoughts from her. He knew her talents, after all. "We're all afraid of something," was all he said.
The Dragonborn led the way to the easternmost door of the Keep. The bandits he'd taken out, he explained, had come from the westernmost door.
"There's also a sort of portcullis gate that blocks the passage in there," he said. "If they managed to bring that down, the lever to get it open again is through this side, anyway."
Marcus led the way, but the barracks room they entered was deserted. The portcullis was down at the far end, but the lever to open it was on their side. He threw the switch and they listened as the echoes of the iron bars resounded down the corridor. There was silence, but Julia cast her Detect Life again and found several figures light up one floor below them.
The short corridor ended in another lowered portcullis, which was easily raised by the pull chain on their side. The found themselves in the tower section of the Keep, with a stairway beyond an iron gate leading down into lower levels of the building. The gate was open.
"This way," her father murmured. "This is the way your mother and I escaped from Helgen that day." He didn't elaborate, but something inside Julia thrilled to actually see the place where it all began for her parents.
It was one of the biggest secrets in Skyrim that only a handful of people knew: her parents had not been born here. They had been born, had lived and died in another completely different world. When that had happened, their souls had been brought to Nirn and placed in the next available body. For her father, it was a young Imperial soldier who had died of his injuries. Her mother had never been able to learn who she had replaced.
Julia knew all this. She had always known. But she also knew that something like that would not be well received by most of the people in Skyrim, so she buried the secret deep and said nothing about it to anyone, not even Tavian, who didn't know.
As they descended the stairs and approached the kitchen area of the Keep, they heard voices. More bandits.
The kitchen area was a largish room with a support pillar in its center, and a huge fireplace set into the corner of the left side of the room. To the right was a raised area with a long table, no doubt used for food preparation. In the right corner, along the wall that shared the door, was another table and chairs set up for meals, and along the right-hand wall it opened to a passage where Julia could just see storage shelves and barrels set up. The passage continued back further, but she couldn't see if it led anywhere, or simply ended.
"KRII LUN AUS!" the Dragonborn bellowed, and the three bandits in the room staggered as the thu'um hit them, weakening their defenses and sapping their strength and health.
Rayya leaped forward, swords drawn, and Julia targeted one of the rogues with a Fear spell, expecting him to cower in a corner and not participate.
She was wrong. The bandit shrugged off the spell and came for her. With her father and Rayya otherwise occupied with the other brigands, Julia gulped and drew the Dwarven sword she had just picked up.
She had been trained in swordsmanship, of course. Her father had insisted on it.
"Why, Daddy?" she'd asked when she was younger. "Can't I just use my magic?"
"You could," he had nodded. "But what will you do if you run out of magic, or don't have time to cast a spell?"
So, she had learned to fight. When Tavian was old enough, they often sparred together, and she was often able to beat her younger brother. But this wasn't Tavian, and they weren't using wooden swords. And unlike her brother, the bandit wasn't pulling punches. He twisted his blade around hers and she found herself suddenly disarmed as the Dwarven blade clattered to the floor.
"I'm gonna enjoy taking you, little bitch," the man leered, the point of his sword at her throat.
"Julia!" her father shouted. But he couldn't get to her while engaged in combat.
"Take your clothes off," the bandit ordered.
"Really, Dunstan?" one of the others derided. "We're kind of in the middle of something." He ducked a slash from Rayya's scimitars as he spoke.
"You're in the middle of somethin'," Dunstan chuckled. "I finished my fight."
"I haven't," Julia scowled, and threw a Magelight spell directly into his face.
Blinded, staggering backwards, Dunstan tripped over a bucket near the support post and went down heavily. In a moment, Julia skewered him with an Ice Spike. Dunstan shuddered and rolled over to get his knees under him, the blinding light of the spell still hindering his vision.
"I'll…kill you…for that, you…little bitch!" he snarled.
"You have to find me first, skeever-face," she taunted. She moved around the pillar, keeping it between herself and the infuriated brigand. A groan to her left told her that the bandit her father had been fighting had gone down for the last time. Rayya dispatched her opponent at nearly the same time, and Marcus turned to the remaining rogue, still slashing about randomly with his sword.
"Finish him, Julia," her father frowned. "Don't play with your quarry."
Gulping, the Breton girl nodded and conjured a Bound Bow, unwilling to get too close to the blinded bandit who still flailed about. Two shots later, it was done.
Marcus sighed. "I guess you're just not the melee fighter type," he smiled wryly.
"She does seem to excel at ranged attacks," Rayya agreed.
Julia hung her head. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she muttered.
Marcus lifted her chin and smiled. "Don't be," he replied, surprising her. "It's not all hack-and-slash, you know. It took me a long time to learn to be stealthy. I had some excellent teachers, but experience is the best one, and that's something you only get the more you practice. Come on," he teased, giving her a hug. "We aren't done here. There's a few more down below."
'Down below' consisted of a room with iron cages and torture devices. This was connected by a corridor of cages to another area with more aggressive forms of 'persuading' an enemy to give up information. The thought of torture sickened Julia, but with more bandits to deal with, she couldn't focus on that. This time, however, she used her Bound Bow first, and targeted two of the rogues from a safer distance. She didn't bring them down by herself, but her actions definitely helped Rayya and her father eliminate them more quickly.
The torture chamber ended, but a hole had been bashed through the stone wall and a packed-dirt tunnel led from here to a large cavern with a stream rushing through it. Roots from trees overhead dangled from the ceiling, but even here were platforms of worked stone, bridging the stream and wrapping around the perimeter of the cavern. The bandits here were less well organized and equipped, and Julia was able to send another Flame Atronach ahead of her while she helped to pick off the ones her father and Rayya fought. Eventually, all was silent once more.
A corridor led to a drawbridge over another gully caused by the stream, and Marcus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Huh. It seems they cleared the rockfall since I was last through here."
"What caused the rockfall?" Rayya asked.
"Alduin," Marcus said shortly. He threw a lever set into the stone floor of the corridor, and the drawbridge clattered down, allowing them to cross.
"We get our feet wet from here," he told the women. Another, larger stream poured through the cavern beyond the drawbridge, and the Dragonborn led them to the left, following the rocky bed until they came to a side tunnel that branched off to their right. In the cavern beyond this they had to fight frostbite spiders, which weren't much of a challenge, except the creatures tended to drop down from their nests in the ceiling. Julia knew fire was the best defense against them, and sent out her Atronach once more, using flame-based spells to fry any of the beasties that got too close.
Her father led them to another tunnel that led out of this chamber, though Julia paused to dig into the pods sitting around to find a handful of spider eggs. One of their alchemical properties, she knew, helped to improve marksmanship.
Marcus waited for her to catch up and chuckled in his deep baritone.
"You're just like your mother, you know," he grinned fondly. "When we came through here, all those years ago, she stopped to pick up every single alchemical ingredient she could, even with chaos raging above our heads. I'm surprised you didn't grab the stuff back in the kitchen."
"I can get garlic and frost mirriam at home," Julia replied. "Spider eggs are a little harder to come by."
The last cavern was the largest by far, with another stream running through it. With all the twists and turns they'd made, Julia wasn't one hundred percent certain that it hadn't been the same stream all along.
Marcus dropped to a crouch, and Rayya did the same immediately, motioning Julia to follow.
"What's going on?" she whispered.
"This cavern eventually leads outside," her father said. "So, it wouldn't be unusual for it to be an animal den. There was a huge bear in here the last time."
"Looks like there's one now," Rayya commented, pointing.
Sure enough, a massive cave bear, the size of a pony cart lay in the only sun spot to break through the roof of the cavern.
"How did you get past the bear last time, Dad?" Julia asked.
Marcus snorted. "We didn't. Your mother took it into her head to attack it. She said she wanted its claws for stamina potions."
Julia looked at the bear dubiously. "Do we have to fight it?" she asked nervously.
"Not if we can sneak past it," her father said. "I'd actually like to see what that feels like," he added. "Not having to fight something, that is."
The three hugged the left-hand wall and crept along, keeping their eyes on the bear. Julia scarcely dared to breathe. They had only gone a third of the way towards the tunnel on the far side when the bear grunted and rose to its feet, snuffling the air and growling out a challenge. Its poor vision, however, couldn't pick out the three figures that suddenly stilled and desperately attempted to become one with the packed-dirt wall behind them.
After several tense moments, the bear either lost their scent or forgot about them, and settled back down to sleep. The three humans waited for several more minutes until they were certain the bear was unconscious before creeping the rest of the way towards the tunnel on the other side of the cavern. A few minutes later, and they were outside. Julia breathed a sigh of relief.
"Rather anti-climactic, if you ask me," Rayya observed drily.
Marcus shrugged. "Not every mission I go on is a life-and-death situation," he replied. "It might seem small potatoes here, but it meant a lot to Jarl Thadgeir to have it done."
Rayya nodded her acknowledgement of his point.
Marcus turned to his daughter. "How do you feel about this, honey?" he asked. "There's still time to decide to become a mage, instead, if you think you can't handle this."
"I'll get better, Dad," she promised. "I know I will! I like magic, and I know I'm good at it, but I just can't stand the thought of being cooped up in a stuffy classroom teaching the next generation, or advising some lord in a court somewhere on all things arcane. I want something a little more exciting than that."
"Doing what I do will put excitement in your life," her father agreed. "But make sure you're ready for whatever may be asked of you. Mistakes in my line of work can be deadly."
Julia considered this soberly as they returned to Falkreath to collect the bounty the Jarl had set on the task. She was surprised, however, when her father split the reward three ways, giving a third of it to the Redguard Steward, and a third of it to her.
"Why did you give some to Rayya, Dad?" she asked him as they flew back to Heljarchen Hall on Odahviing. "Doesn't she work for you?"
"She does," her father allowed, "but she has expenses like everyone else. For anything related to the house and property itself, she runs a tab in town with the merchants there, and I settle up with them a couple of times a month. For her own personal use, however, I give her a stipend. I do that with each of my Stewards and Housecarls. What they do with the money after I give it is their business, not mine."
Satisfied, Julia settled against her father's back – as much as his dragonplate armor would allow – and was quiet the remainder of the trip.
She was delighted to find that Tavian had returned home while they were gone, but he had brought someone with him.
"This is Roald," her brother said, introducing them, and Julia studied the young Nord. Closely-cropped military-style dark hair and smoldering eyes glared out at everything around him. He wore his uniform comfortably, but seemed tense, as though ready to bolt at a moment's notice. He was quietly respectful to her parents, but there was an air of disdain about him that Julia sensed immediately. She watched him during the evening meal, but though he answered the questions asked of him, there seemed to be much more he wasn't saying. He retired early for the night, and Julia cornered her brother before he headed upstairs.
"What's with your friend?" she whispered determinedly.
"He's…not exactly a friend," Tavian admitted.
"You invited him here," she pointed out.
"I think he needs it," her brother shrugged, declining to mention that his mentor felt the same way.
"Needs what?" Julia challenged. "He hasn't spoken ten words to me since he got here, and I've asked him several questions over dinner."
"You push too hard," her brother frowned. "Not everyone is an open book, you know."
"Open book?" Julia blinked. "He's not even a scrawled note! And while he was nice to Mom and Dad, I couldn't help but notice there's some kind of tension between you two. What's up with that?"
"Julia, just leave it alone, okay?" Tavian sighed, exasperated. "Anyone would be intimidated being in the company of our parents, so of course he's not going to babble on about every aspect of his life. He's our guest for the next few days. Just let him be."
"Fine," his sister snorted. "Just tell me one thing: if he's 'not exactly a friend', then why did he agree to come here with you?"
"I don't know the answer to that yet," Tavian admitted.
Julia shook her head in resignation. "I hope you know what you're doing," was all she said. "But I'm going to keep my eye on him."
Tavian rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs.
Roald was, in public view, a quiet, unassuming guest. But in private, with Tavian, his truer nature tended to present itself. As Tavian performed the chores he usually did when home, Roald followed, though he made no attempt to assist. He mocked the Imperial lad's status within his own family.
"Just an afterthought after your famous sister, eh?" he jibed.
"What do you mean by that?" Tavian demanded as he pitched hay down from the loft for the horses.
"I heard she has some kind of special powers or something," Roald shrugged. "It's no secret she's mastered magic."
"Only some schools," Tavian clarified, stabbing the bale with the pitchfork a little more vigorously than was truly needed.
Roald also sneered at the Steward and her family.
"I guess those that can't make it in this world serve those who can," he sniffed.
Tavian paused in pushing the mill wheel and it slowed to a halt.
"Lydia and Gregor are fine warriors in their own right," he frowned, staunchly defending them.
"Yeah, but that son of theirs is a real dullard," Roald smirked. "Couldn't even answer my question when I asked him what his dad did during the war."
"Because Gregor was here," Tavian scowled, "keeping Heljarchen and my sister safe."
Roald appeared not to hear him. "Although their daughter is kind of pretty. She might be fun to get to know—"
Hands grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and Roald was suddenly slammed against the wall of the mill house.
"You listen here, Roald," Tavian hissed in a low voice. "You don't lay a finger on Kirsten! Gregor and Lydia and Kirsten and Korst are like family to us. Kirsten might as well be another sister to me. You keep your hands off her, you understand me?" There was a dangerous light in the Imperial's eyes that had gone a flat steel gray, and Roald suddenly realized he'd crossed a line. He wasn't easily intimidated, but the thunderous look Tavian was giving him now made him back off.
"Okay, okay," he caved, putting his hands up in surrender. "I won't touch her, I promise."
"Good." Tavian let go and went back to the mill wheel. "Get over here, then and give me a hand with this."
Without even realizing it, Roald did just that, and the two worked in silence for the rest of the hour.
For her part, Julia watched Roald carefully over the next few days, but she had to admit that, while his attitude towards her and her brother was just short of snide, he didn't really give her any real cause for complaint.
Her parents continued to treat their guest kindly, going out of their way to make him feel welcome and comfortable when they were around. But four days into Tavian's leave of absence, they had to go to Winterhold to discuss the expansion of the town with the Jarl.
"It will only be for a couple of days," Tamsyn had smiled, informing them at dinner. "But the Jarl really wants our input, and we really need to be there. We should be back by Sundas, at the latest."
"We'll be fine, Mom," Julia smiled, and Tavian nodded his head.
"Roald and I still have another week before we have to report back," he added. "What exactly are you doing in Winterhold?"
"A lot of stuff," Marcus chuckled, and Tamsyn smiled.
"The expansion plans include the construction of a new harbor area," she told their guest, "in addition to new homes for the workers and miners coming into town. Much of the land south of Winterhold has been cleared and leveled, and they've already started on several additional buildings. The smithy was finished last year, and the new smith, a Dunmer from Blacklight, is already working long hours to keep up with the demand."
"You said you were from Stonehills, here in the Pale, Roald," Marcus said now. "Would you like to borrow one of our horses to visit your family?"
Roald went still, then cast his eyes down.
"I…have no family there anymore," he finally said. "My pa…he never married Ma. I never knew him. Ma got sick a couple years ago and never got better. I joined the Legion 'cause it was either that or work in the mines."
Tavian stared at the young Nord, marveling at how open he'd just been to two comparative strangers. It explained much of the young man's attitude to this point.
"I'm so sorry," Tamsyn murmured.
"The Legion can be your family," Marcus assured him, "if you want them to be. But you have to want it. When I joined the Legion, years ago, General Tullius assured me that they take care of their own. And it's true. While I never went the usual route – I was an auxiliary – I rose to the rank of Legate. There are opportunities there if you're smart enough to grab them."
Roald raised his head at looked into the Dragonborn's eyes. For one brief moment, the shutters came down, and an expression of hope crossed the younger man's face. But just as quickly the shields came up again and he merely shrugged.
"I haven't made up my mind yet," Roald muttered.
Marcus nodded, understanding more than he let on. "Think about it," was all he said.
"This place is boring," Roald complained. Tavian's parents had traveled to Winterhold, and Julia was working in the alchemy lab in the basement. He and Roald were in the library, and Tavian was attempting to read The Battle of Sancre Tor, attempting to understand General Tiber Septim's strategies in defeating the Cyrodiilic army at the fortress of Sancre Tor, where the General's body was now said to be laid to rest. With an inward sigh, He set his book aside, knowing he would get no further this day. In all truthfulness, he'd noticed how Roald had been quiet and respectful around his parents; almost as though he were in awe of them. But he also saw how quickly that disappeared once Marcus and Tamsyn were absent. He steeled himself for another confrontation and looked up at his house guest.
"Did you want to go into Whiterun?" he asked.
"Whiterun is boring, too," Roald scowled. "What do you do around here for fun?"
Tavian shrugged. "Things you think are boring," he replied in a tone very much like his father's.
"There has to be something we can do," Roald insisted. "What about that Dwarven tower just north of here?"
"That's the Tower of Mzark," Tavian explained. "It leads down to Blackreach, where the Alliance army trained in secret during the Last Great War."
A spark of interest crept into Roald's eyes. "We could go down there and look around," he suggested, but Tavian shook his head.
"The only way into Blackreach is through certain Dwemer lifts," he explained. "And you either have to know the password – which I don't – or have an attunement sphere – which again, I don't. Besides," he continued, "it's relatively tame down there, with all the miners and scholars that live down there since the war."
Roald's face fell briefly, before another thought crept into his head.
"There's Volunruud," he suggested. "We could see if there's anything left in the tomb of Kvenel the Tongue."
"My Dad cleared that place out years ago," Tavian said, a bit wistfully. "He's got Kvenel's two weapons, Okin and Eduj, mounted in his den."
"He could have missed something," Roald insisted.
Tavian barked a laugh. "My Dad? Miss something?" He chuckled again. "If he didn't find something, my Mom sure would have!"
Roald lapsed into a brooding silence, and Tavian took pity on the young Nord.
"We could see if there's anything left in Korvanjund," he volunteered. "I know Dad was already there once, but it was when he was with the Legion, and he was looking for something specific. I don't think he had time to fully explore the place."
Roald's eyes lit up again. "Now you're talking!" he exclaimed. "Where is Korvanjund?"
Tavian rose and crossed the room to the map on the wall. "Here," he pointed, "just east of here, about two hours away."
"It's early," Roald said. "If we took the horses we could get there quicker and have more time to explore. We could be back before supper."
"I'll let Julia know," Tavian agreed.
"Why?" Roald frowned.
"So that someone knows where we are if anything should happen," the young Imperial replied, puzzled.
"Nothing's going to happen," Roald scowled. "You think the two of us can't handle a deserted tomb?"
"It might not be deserted," Tavian warned. "There might be bandits there—"
"Then we're doing a public service in wiping them out," Roald insisted. "But we don't need your sister babysitting us."
"It's not babysitting," Tavian frowned. "It's just common sense."
"Are you scared, Dragon Baby?" Roald jibed. "Afraid of a little adventure?"
"This isn't about that," the red-haired man shot back.
"Then prove it," Roald challenged. "Be a man, not a milk-drinker. Let's go now. We're wasting daylight." He left the room and Tavian heard the front door open and close behind him.
This wasn't a good idea, he knew, running off and not telling anyone where he went. Roald's recklessness could likely get both of them into trouble they couldn't get out of. No one in their right mind delved into tombs and caves without letting someone know where they were.
But Dad used to, he thought privately. And Mom did, too, all those years ago when they were becoming who they are today.
His cautious side insisted they had skills, even then, that he didn't have now. His father was Dragonborn, and could use the thu'um. Tavian could only Shout a handful of Words. And his magic skills – while improved – were nowhere near his mother's. She also had the gift of Sight, and had been able to See what might happen. He wished he had a bit of that insight now. Something in his gut told him this wouldn't end well.
Sighing in exasperation, knowing Roald wouldn't wait long for him, he grabbed a piece of parchment from the desk and a bit of sharpened charcoal and left a note where someone would be likely to find it.
Gone to Korvanjund. Be back soon.
He hoped it would be enough, then hurried outside to catch up with Roald.