Legacy of a Legend - Cover

Legacy of a Legend

Copyright© 2022 by StarFleet Carl

Chapter 47

Leah woke me from my slumber. “Pardon me, are you ... officially ... here?”

I smiled up at her, then took a bite from an apple on my nightstand. Then I pulled her down to me, giving her a deep kiss. “Good morning, Leah. I’ll be down shortly for breakfast after I get dressed.”

She hurried down the stairs, excited. I could hear her saying, “Get everyone ready for breakfast, Martina has returned to us!”

I lazily got out of bed, luxuriating in feel of my own bed without any deceit after so long. I was only wearing my smalls, and the fur from the rug by the bed felt good between my toes. I stretched a bit, then went to the chest beside the bed. “Surgus, you can quit being a pervert and watching from secret, I’m just getting dressed now.”

As I opened the chest and began removing the armor stored there weeks ago, Surgus said, “Okay, how did you know I was here? Seriously.” He sounded disturbed. “And when or how did you get your gear here? I thought you’d left it in High Reach.”

I started slipping my underthings on, then my dragon scale on over that. Since I no longer had a helm and I didn’t want to wear the Jagged Crown just yet, I put out an enchanted circlet. Time to show my face to everyone. “It’s simple, Surgus. My gear has been here since two days after I left High Reach. I have some fine companions, do I not? Able to send things via courier secretly.”

“Yes, but that still doesn’t tell me how you knew I was here,” he was petulant.

“Seriously? You think I didn’t know you’ve been following nearly my every move since I left High Reach? Or just how irritated you were to have me disappear from your sight in the Blue Palace? I’m just curious, what did you think when I went into the Void and returned with Astrid.”

“Son of a bitch ... you knew I’d follow you!”

“Surgus, you may be a Psijic monk of the highest caliber of skills, and even a wonderful assassin. I’m still Dragonborn, and more importantly, I’m still a woman. You could do nothing else. Not and remain true to your Order.”

He shook his head. “Formidable. I am so glad you are not our opponent. I almost pity the poor Thalmor. Very well. What would you have of me now?”

“Well, I plan on going downstairs and enjoying a leisurely breakfast, spending a bit of time getting formally reacquainted with my friends and subjects here. When I’m done with that, I’m going to get on my horse and go help Malacath with a problem he has. Before the military campaigning season gets fully underway, we need to deal with a couple of Daedric issues.”

I started walking to the stairs, buckling my sword belt on. “So what I’d like you to do while I’m eating is open a little channel between here and High Reach. Get Lydia, Jordris, Argis, Annekke, and Serana, and bring them here. It’s time for the High Queen of Skyrim to start resolving some of the problems of her subjects. I’m actually glad my helm was destroyed. The people should see my face.”

“Don’t you think that they may recognize you as the assassin from the Dark Brotherhood who was recently was crossing Skyrim?”

“Assassins don’t wear dragon scale, do they? Nor do they act publicly, they kill from the shadows. What do your threads show now?”

He quietly followed me downstairs, then held my chair for me while I was seated. “Damn, I hate being wrong,” he muttered as he pushed my chair in.

“See you shortly, Surgus. I’m hungry, and it looks like I have a wonderful breakfast waiting for me here.” He moved off, still muttering under his breath, then vanished into a tunnel leading to High Reach. In the meantime I ate my food.

I had just finished eating when the tunnel opened again and my companions came out. Surgus was nowhere to be seen, which was what I’d expected of him. “Thank you all for your patience with me. I had a few things I had to do, obviously. But the time for subtle action is over. The war for control of Skyrim by the Daedric Princes has a couple of battles to be fought. I understand we need to talk to one of the Gray-Mane family in Whiterun first. Then we’re going back to see Atub, get the Orc issue resolved, then to Dawnstar. How soon can you all be ready to leave?”

Lydia spoke for everyone. “My Queen, we are ready ... now. We’d like to give you a welcome home kiss first, if that’s not too much. And if you need healing from any injuries, ah ... we’re ready to help that way, too.”

I laughed. Gods, it felt good to be back with together with them all. “Come here, all of you. Kisses around. I ... er ... well, someone else has found a space in my heart as well, she was able to heal me. So when we’re done, we’re ready.”

I reloaded on arrows that Adrienne had been faithfully making while I was gone, and then we went into Whiterun. The guards recognized me, of course. I heard a lot of greetings from everyone, guards and citizens alike, as we walked through town. I walked up to a simple house, belonging to the Gray-Manes, and entered.

Fralia greeted me. “Welcome to our home.” From behind her, a man wearing armor holding an axe came towards me. Fralia shouted, “Avulstein, stop! She’s here to help.”

“Who are you? What are you doing here? Are you working with the Battle-Borns? Speak now, before I put you in the ground,” he threatened.

Fralia looked askance at her son. “You could try, boy, but you’d fail. Not against her, you’d stand no chance. Now, please, put your weapon up.”

“Fine.” He sheathed his axe. “Are you here to help?”

“I received a missive from your mother that one of her sons was missing. I would presume that’s not you.” Behind me, I knew my companions were still ready should they need their weapons.

“No, it’s my brother Thorald. He was fighting for the Stormcloaks, and went missing. Everyone assumes he’s dead. But he’s not. I know it. The Imperials captured him, and they’re holding him someplace. The Battle-Borns know where.”

I was puzzled. “Why do you assume the Battle-Borns know anything?”

“They’re the Emperor’s biggest boot lickers here in Whiterun. Their connections to the Empire and the Legion are well known. When Thorald didn’t return home, there was no question in my mind. They knew Thorald supported the Stormcloaks, knew he was going to aid them in battle. Made sure he didn’t come back. Locked him up someplace to get back at my family. I’m sure of it.”

“I’ll see what I can find out. In the meantime, just ... stay here. There’s been enough blood shed in Skyrim already.” I left their home and went straight to the head of the clan Battle-Born, Olfrid. Since his home was just behind that of the Gray-Manes, it was a short walk. He and his sons were sitting at the table, eating lunch.

He saw me come in. “Yes, Dragonborn, what can I do for you?”

“I’m here under my other title today, Olfrid. What can you tell me of the fate of Thorald Gray-Mane?”

“Your other title?”

“Are you going to tell me that you, a citizen of Whiterun with all your connections, are unaware of my official title here in Skyrim now?” I crossed my arms.

He sighed. “No, my Queen. It’s ... my apologies. The death of the Emperor, things are changing here rapidly now. The enmity between the Battle-Born and Gray-Mane are relics of the past that need to change as well.” He looked at his sons. “Idolaf, tell her.”

“Yes, father. Thorald and I are ... were ... friends. When he was taken prisoner, I used my contacts to find out what had happened to him. He was taken by the Thalmor. He’s being held in Northwatch Keep. He’s as good as dead, no one returns from there. I ... I didn’t tell Fralia this because his brother would try to save him, then they’d both be dead. I’m sorry.”

I stared at them for a moment. “You have been friends of the Empire. By your words today, you remain friends of the Empire, and of her Empress.”

Olfrid gulped. “Thank you, my Queen. But ... how can we help?”

“Keep growing your crops, support Jarl Balgruuf, and as you said, end the issue between your clans. I’ll handle this from here.”

I returned to the Gray-Manes. Avulstein looked puzzled. “You just left a few moments ago, surely you don’t have an answer for me already.”

“He’s held prisoner by the Thalmor, at Northwatch Keep. I’ll get him out. You stay here, protect your mother. And talk to the Battle-Born clan. You’ll find they’re not as bad as you think, and it’s time for you to put your grudges away.”

“How can I do that when they’re the ones who put Thorald in danger in the first place?”

“Ulfric Stormcloak put him in danger, with his war. I’m not going to get into whether it was right or wrong for him to do so. But since I am going to put an end to it, one way or another, then you’ll do as I say.”

He laughed. “How can you put an end to the war, even with your followers?”

“By killing every Thalmor in Skyrim, since they’re the cause of it in the first place. Why would I do anything else in my realm?”

The blood drained from his face. “By Ysmir, I’d heard rumors, but discounted most of them. I mean, I knew you were the Dragonborn, but...” His mother slapped him on the back of the head.

“Now you know, you stupid boy. Ulfric Stormcloak is not your ruler. She is.”

Shortly after that, we left for Largashbur. As we rode, my companions asked me questions about what I had done while I was apart from them. I deflected many of them, I didn’t want to get too deep in explanation while on the trail. We stopped and camped at the Heartwood Mill as it was getting late. There was no privacy to talk, though. The next morning we approached the Orc camp.

Another giant was attacking it and we killed this one as well. I apologized to Atub for taking so long in returning. “Things take time, I understand. We must get Yamarz now so I can summon Malacath,” she replied.

She headed into their longhouse. An Orc warrior in full armor was waiting inside. “Yamarz, we have the items needed so that I can summon Malacath now,” Atub said.

“Why have you brought this outsider here? What do we need Malacath for? I am the chief here. We can handle things,” he boasted.

“You know we are dying. Come, let me perform the ceremony.” He grumbled some at her insistence, but finally followed her. Once outside, she walked to a rough altar in the midst of their camp. “Great Malacath, we summon you to help us in our time of need.”

Yamarz jumped when a loud, disembodied voice said, “Just look at you. You’re losing to giants! Yamarz, you are weak! Go. Kill the leader of the giants in Fallowstone Cave and bring me his club. Then I will lift my curse.”

Atub intoned, “Malacath has spoken!”

Yamarz came up to me. “You, outsider! You got me into this, you’re going to get me out of it. Meet me at Fallowstone Cave. You have more than enough troops with you, you can keep me safe from harm, and I’ll kill the giant and come back a hero. I’ll make it worth your while.”

I thought about how Yamarz was quite possibly the worst example of an Orc I’d ever seen. It’d probably irritate Malacath if I killed him now, but it’d improve the breed. “Fine. We’ll do what needs done. Let’s go.”

Our destination was just beyond a place we’d already been to, so finding it wasn’t difficult. The trolls were out in full force, though, almost like they’d been placed as an obstacle for us. That simply made it easier to gather more ingredients from their fat, as they all died. Once at the cave, Yamarz surprised me by charging into combat against a giant we encountered soon after entering the cave. Of course, I had to move in as well. I don’t think the giant even knew what hit it – what little Yamarz was able to do, as well as my sword blow, four arrows, and an ice spike.

A bit further into the cave we ran into three cave bears. Yamarz again showed he must have had some courage, as he charged into combat. The bears quickly died, of course, but I was more encouraged. From there we went into the main cave. Yamarz looked at me. “So, how would you like to make some extra coin, kill that giant for me?”

“You’re supposed to do it to make Malacath happy,” I disdainfully told him.

“Fine. Wait here, I’ll only be a minute.” Yamarz started running down the hill towards the waiting giant.

“He’s gong to get smashed to a pulp, isn’t he?” asked Lydia.

I nodded. She was proven right very quickly, when the giant smashed Yamarz in the head with his club. His armor held, but his skull didn’t. His eyeballs literally popped out of his head. I readied my bow and noticed a large shrine to Malacath just behind the giant. A flight of arrows from us was all it took. Malacath then spoke from his shrine. “Yamarz was a fool, a conniver, and weakling! He was no chief of mine. Take Shargrol’s Hammer back to Largashbur and let’s see about whipping the rest of them into some sort of shape.”

That hammer must have been the magical one the giant was carrying as loot. We gathered the things, including the armor from Yamarz, and headed back out. Argis rinsed the helm out in a stream before we packed it. Once outside we ate and slept again. It was an easy ride back to Largashbur. Atub was waiting by the shrine.

“I have returned, with Shargrol’s Hammer.”

“So I see. But what of Yamarz?” She quickly realized the truth. “He ... died well?”

“He fought bravely, but the giant overwhelmed him.”

Atub sighed in relief. “That is good to hear then.”

Malacath decided to butt in. “Yamarz was a coward and a weakling. His deceitful ways have cost you all dearly. But I am willing to give you a chance. Gularzob is the new chief. You, you are the only one who’s shown bravery here. Place the hammer on my shrine.” I did. The regular hammer vanished, with the token of Malacath taking it’s place. I retrieved Volendrung.

“Thank you, Malacath. I’ll see what I can do to help your Orcs when I can.”

“Use it well in combat. Show the giants who is in charge here.”

I chuckled. “That would be me.” Upon hearing my rather cheeky statement, my ladies laughed as well. “Atub, here’s the armor that Yamarz wore. Give it to Gularzob to wear in good health, or sell it for money to help your tribe.”

She thanked me for my generosity, giving us some food and drink for our travels. We headed out, our next destination Dawnstar. We stopped at the Nightgate Inn again for our evening meal. Hadring greeted us warmly.

“It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you. I’m glad to see you’re all doing well. We had a bit of trouble here recently, I’m glad you weren’t here for it. One of my guests decided to come up missing one day. He must have made someone mad, they killed him and stuffed his body in a corner in the basement. No idea what that was about.”

He shook his head. “Ah, who knows? Anyway, I’ve some fresh horker stew on, and my girls put new straw in the bed yesterday.”

We ate and then moved into the bedroom. Argis took outside guard duty. “Okay, we know we’re going to Dawnstar and presumably after the Thalmor after that ... we’d like to know what we missed,” Lydia said.

I sighed. “I had to do some things I’m not particularly proud of. Obviously I took care of Titus Mede. There were ... other things ... and other people, that I had to kill. Some of them deserved it, some of them...”

Serana looked at me pity in her eyes. “It’s different with you now, isn’t it? Before, it was your destiny and you were reacting to things without having to think about them. If you failed, then the world would end, so you had no choice. Now, though, you’re having to advance your own agenda, your own plans. There’s a cost involved.”

“Exactly. I actually considered just quitting everything and just ... living ... with all of you. I decided that it wasn’t feasible, unfortunately. It’d be sweet, just not ... doable. I was not cut out to be a farmer.”

Jordris laughed. “Oh, that’d be rich. I could just see you, Arvak hooked to a plow.”

“No, your Majesty. You’ll lead us into battle, we’ll willingly follow you because we love you, and we’ll gain your throne for you. You’re not Nord born like we are, but you’re ours, no matter what.” Annekke’s voice was choked up a bit at the end.

I felt the tears welling in my eyes. “Come on, let’s get some sleep. We have a long, cold ride tomorrow.”

The next day we traveled west, then north along the roads to Dawnstar. As we entered town from the southern edge, a dragon thought it would be a good day to attack the human settlement. Just as he was getting ready to land on the roof of the inn, I used Dragonrend to ground him. Half a dozen arrows and Argis was packing some bones and scales for later smithing work. It was ... nice ... not to have to hide anymore.

It was still mid-afternoon when we walked up to the house of Silus Vesuius. A woman was arguing with him outside the house. “I beg you, don’t do this, Silus!”

“It’s my heritage. And if I’m not mistaken, here comes my first visitor to my museum.” Silus was wearing robes that looked very familiar to me based upon descriptions I’d heard from mother. “Please, come in and browse the displays, and we can talk. I have a job that you look perfect for.”

“Yes, show me what you have inside.” I went into his home. Half the home was full of display cases. The walls over the display cases held many tapestries. Silus seemed pleased by his items. “My family were in the Mythic Dawn. My museum in our legacy. One of my forefathers was even chosen to assassinate Uriel Septim himself. These tapestries were from their headquarters. In this case are several of the robes that were worn by members as they went about their missions.”

The source of this story is SciFi-Stories

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