Chapter 50

It was nice to be in Markarth and not be hiding from anyone. As we entered Vlindrel Hall, I was surprised to find two people already present. “Argis, Annekke, I wasn’t expecting to find you here. Is everything all right?”

“Oh, welcome home! Yes, everything is fine. Gildan is still at Sky Haven Temple with Esbern. Her mother was part of the Blades in Morrowind, and they’re discussing recruiting as well as tactics for the future. I think they’re figuring out how to ... well, how to adequately provide guards for you, to be honest. Trudy and Rayna were excited at that prospect. Delphine came back yesterday and suggested that since Markarth is so close, Annekke and I come here to get supplies to take back, some foods, spices for cooking, things like that.”

“I’m concerned, though, that with no one here for so long, that someone was breaking in and using your home. I found some things out of place when we got here.” Argis was frowning.

“Sorry about that, I needed a place to sleep and rest during my ... solo ... travels. This was convenient when I was on this side of Skyrim. I’m sorry if I made a mess for you. Actually, with both of you here, I’d like you to come with us in the morning. It’ll be ... interesting, I think.”

Annekke shook her head. “You have a strange sense of understatement, my Queen.”

The next morning over breakfast, Serana asked me, “Martina, do you think ... well, do you have any hope for us today?”

“It’s going to be interesting, that’s for sure. There is one thing in our favor, though. I am already a Thane of Markarth. So that will get us heard. Whether we have to use magic to get out of Understone Keep alive ... well, I hate to be repetitive, but this will be interesting.”

We walked down the stairs and up to the entrance to Understone Keep. I paused, looking up and around, hoping this wasn’t our last time to see the sky, and entered. The guards inside greeted me as a Thane of Markarth. I walked up the stairs. The Jarl and his steward were in discussion about some business. The housecarl met me as I approached.

“Greetings, Thane Dragonborn. I apologize for not knowing your actual name. I don’t think I introduced myself when you were last here. I am Yngvar, the Singer. Or I would still be a singer, if I weren’t the housecarl. The Jarl and Reburrus are discussing some budget issues right now. Is what you have for them important, or can it wait for later?”

I thought of something based upon what he said. “You say you’re a Singer? Does that mean you’re a member of the Bard’s College?”

He smiled. “Why, yes, it does. Why?”

“Excellent. Come, we must speak with the Jarl, now. This won’t wait.”

“I suppose. Very well, let me introduce you formally.” He cleared his throat, and spoke formally. “Jarl Thongvor Silver-blood, your Thane, the Dragonborn, has urgent news for you. She has stated that it is important and must be heard now.”

Reburrus looked pained, like he’d been trying to stall because he’d seen me coming. The Jarl, however, looked delighted. “Reburrus, these numbers can wait. What can Markarth do for the slayer of Alduin and her entourage?”

“Ulfric Stormcloak has rebelled against the Empire, supposedly because the Emperor allowed the Thalmor to enforce the White Gold Concordat, banning the worship of Talos. That was false. Read this, my Jarl. It is the dossier kept by the Thalmor of their agent, Ulfric. He was working for them when he freed Markarth.” I handed him the dossier I had retrieved from the embassy.

“What is this?” He read through it. “So ... Ulfric was used by the Thalmor to push their Concordat and ban Talos worship? What does this mean, and do you have any proof?”

“Pay attention to the last bit. The Thalmor are the puppet masters here, my Jarl. They seek neither an Imperial victory nor a Stormcloak one, they simply want a status quo of war in Skyrim for their own ends, such that they’ll even help the Stormcloak cause. And they’ve been pulling the strings behind the scenes well, until recently anyway. You’re aware that Titus Mede the Second is dead, of course.”

“We’d heard rumors, but ... to have confirmation of that is welcome news, indeed. But what does that mean for our cause?”

I looked at Yngvar. “I have a verse that you might recognize. I’m going to recite the first three lines. Maw unleashing razor snow, Of dragons from the blue brought down, Births the walking winter’s woe...”

Yngvar furled his brow for a moment, and I could see his lips moving as he thought. “Ah, of course. The High King in his Jagged Crown! Aye, I know what you’re talking about.”

Reburrus interrupted. “Well, I don’t. What are you blathering about?”

Yngvar warned, “Guard your tongue, steward. I’m referring to symbol of the High King of Skyrim that was lost centuries ago. That’s one reason we have to have a moot to determine who is the High King, now that Torygg is dead. There is said to be magic on the Jagged Crown so that it can only be worn by the true High King of Skyrim. Without it, we’ve had to make do, and poorly.”

“Ah, I didn’t know that part of the legend, Yngvar. Thank you.” I smiled.

Thongvor said, “So what does this ancient legend have to do with what you said was so important?”

“I’m glad you asked, Jarl Thongvor.” I stood straighter, making sure my hair was in place. Lydia raised the pole holding the banners, allowing them to unfurl, so that all could seen Solitude, Morthal, Falkreath, and most importantly, Whiterun. Jordris walked up behind me, placing the crown on my head.

“I am Martina Grizé, Dragonborn, known to the Greybeards as Ysmir, Dragon of the North. I have been formally recognized by the Jarls of these holds and by the Psijic Order as High Queen of Skyrim. I come to you, Jarl Thongvor of Markarth, as your High Queen to tell you the civil war is over.”

I continued. “You should all know the new Empress of the Tamriel formally repudiates the White Gold Concordat, declares the Aldmeri Dominion to be the sworn enemy of the Empire, and welcomes all to join her and her forces in driving the elves from her kingdom and Empire.”

In a quiet voice, Yngvar said, “You have the Crown. By the Nine...”

“That’s preposterous!” Reburrus said. “Even if Titus Mede is dead, which I truly doubt, there’s no way the Imperial Council could have chosen a successor already.”

I said, “Unless they didn’t have to do so, because Titus Mede was a false Emperor in the first place.”

“How could that be?” he argued.

“Because there is a living heir to the Septim throne, a descendant of Tiber Septim.”

Before Reburrus could say anything else, Thongvor held up his hand, cutting him off. His other hand was rubbing his chin in thought. “For that to be true, and I’m not saying it is or it isn’t, that would mean ... I ... I don’t know if I like where this is leading me or not, but ... you said the new Empress, didn’t you?”

Serana came up behind me, unfolding the robe and placing it on my shoulders. “That I did, Jarl Thongvor. My ancestor, Tiber Septim, united Skyrim and then led his forces to form the Empire. I know that you have been at war against the Empire in support of the Stormcloaks because the damned Thalmor wouldn’t let allow worship of Talos. No more. With the White Gold Concordat no longer being followed, worship of Talos is now perfectly legal. As I said, the war between brothers here in Skyrim is over. I believe you even know the commander of the Imperial troops in Skyrim, she said you fought beside her during the Great War.”

“Her? General Tullius commands the Imperial forces,” Reburrus interjected.

“He was relieved of his position. Permanently. General Rikke commands now.”

He leaned back in his throne. “Rikke, eh? She’s an able warrior, knows Ulfric and Galmar, too. But she’s been in Imperial armor for so long, what would she think about a peace between Imperials and Stormcloaks?”

From behind me, Argis spoke up. “My Jarl, she welcomes it, just as I do. You appointed me to be housecarl to the Dragonborn. I have followed her, fought for her, killed for her, bled for her. She is truly worthy of us.”

Thongvor looked puzzled. “Argis? I didn’t recognize you in that armor. Step forward, please.” His eyes widened when Argis removed his helmet and approached. “Weren’t you blind in one eye?”

“I was, my Jarl. As I said, she is worthy. Worthy of my trust, worthy of my devotion, worthy of the love that only a warrior can give to those who he follows. My Jarl, I have followed her into battle against dragons, vampires, draugr, and Thalmor. I will follow her into battle against the gods themselves if need be.”

“Pretty words, for someone who was retired from service years ago.” Reburrus said in a mocking tone. “All you’ve been fit for is to sweep up an empty home since.”

“So you would challenge the Blades, the guardians of the Emperor, Reburrus?” I asked.

“The Penitus Oculatus guards the Emperor, whoever is chosen by the Imperial Council, presuming you’re right and Titus Mede is truly dead,” he snarled. Thongvor looked on, fascinated at our byplay.

I carefully watched Reburrus for his reaction at my next words. “Titus Mede is as dead as the man who paid for his assassination. Things make more sense to me now. This is, after all, the home of the famous Silver-blood holdings. I wondered why a man would casually hand over an amulet of the Elder Council to establish his bonafides. How he could put a fortune in gold in a dead drop, in a ruin, in a land he wasn’t familiar with, unless he had help. So tell me, Reburrus, how much have you been stealing from the Silver-blood family, so you could help Amaund Motierre and Aldmeri Councilman Herecinde?”

His skin had turned pale at my accusation, and I saw his fury rising. But when I mentioned Motierre and Herecinde by name, he flinched as if I’d hit him with my gauntlet. Thongvor saw it as well.

“Guards!” Two of them came running up. “Take this man ... this ... traitor ... into custody.”

They grabbed Reburrus. “Wait, wait, I’m...” He grunted when one of the guards punched him in the gut.

“Quiet, you! If you’re innocent, we’ll let you out of Cidhna Mine soon enough. If you’re not...” They led Reburrus away.

“That annoys me. Now I’ll need a new steward.” He looked at me, his head slightly tilted to one side. “At least that explains some of his wealth. He’s been siphoning funds from us to pay the Imperials, eh? So, any more surprises for me?”

“Depends on whether or not you know that your brother thinks he’s using the Forsworn to further his own cause, while they’re actually playing him for a fool.” I handed over the documents I’d retrieved from the BriarHeart.

Thongvor read them. “These are orders to the Forsworn. Written by Madanach, and recently. Damn him! I told Thonar that politics would see us in control, and I was right. But no, he’s still trying to buy his way into power when it’s not needed. The Forsworn have been killing our citizens, causing problems in the Reach for decades, and he’s been helping them.”

He crumpled the paper in his hand. “Yngvar! Are you my sworn housecarl?”

Yngvar looked as shocked at the revelations he’d heard as Thongvor was. “Yes, my Jarl! I am your sword and shield.”

“Damn it! I don’t know who else I can trust now,” he fumed.

“Jarl Thongvor, I am your Thane. I am the Dragonborn and this is a threat to Skyrim, to my realm. Fealty flows both ways, after all.”

“Well spoken. But ... our family owns the mines. That’s what we use for our prison. I can’t put my own brother in there. The guards there aren’t even city guards, they’re mercenaries, bought and paid for by Thonar.”

“Then it’s really simple, my Jarl. We clean the prison guards out, replace them with regular city guards or even troops if need be on a temporary basis, and ... remove the Forsworn element from the city. Both in the mine, and the ones that are living freely here within the city.”

“What? There are Forsworn living here? Freely? How can you know this?”

Argis spoke up. “I can answer that easily, my Jarl. It’s ... an open secret in the town, amongst the common folk anyway, that Nepos the Nose works directly for the King in Rags. They know not to cross him, or they will wind up dead.”

Thongvor looked pained. “Dragonborn, you are my Thane. I charge you with this investigation into Nepos and the mines. Take ... gods forgive me for this ... take the appropriate actions in dealing with what you discover. No matter what or ... who ... is involved. We will deal with the ... other ... matters you have brought up when this is resolved. Yngvar, get Kottir Red-Shoal out here. I presume, or at least hope, that we can trust him. I want soldiers here, immediately.”

I saluted him. “Yes, Jarl Thongvor. My Jarl, for your protection, I suggest that I leave Annekke Crag-Jumper here to assist Yngvar.”

“Very well. Come with me, Annekke Crag-Jumper. I fear things are reaching a head in my city and I may need all the help I can get.”

Annekke went with Thongvor into another room, while Yngvar went to find the Stormcloak commander. We stood for a moment in the now empty throne room. I looked at Argis. “How many of the city guard do you think we’re going to have to kill?”

He thought for a moment. “About half. The corruption in Markarth runs deep.”

“Good. I was afraid we’d have to kill all of them.”

Yngvar and the commander of the Stormcloak troops came in. “What in the name of Talos is going on here? Why does Yngvar say I need to see you?” The commander sounded puzzled and a little angry.

Yngvar said, “Dragonborn, this is Kottir Red-Shoal. He also fought in the Great War alongside Rikke. He’s the commander of the soldiers here in the Reach. Kottir, in case you’re unaware, this is the Dragonborn, Thane of Markarth and charged with helping Jarl Thongvor Silver-blood. She speaks with his voice ... and her own.”

“She does? Very well, I’m listening.” He crossed his arms impatiently.

“Kottir, we have need of soldiers here in town. Some of the guards are working against the Jarl, and will need to be replaced. We will need a few more to guard against attacks from the Forsworn as well, when they realize their king is dead. Send word to your encampment, I want thirty soldiers here by dawn tomorrow. You should easily be able to free that many up with the Imperial troops withdrawing to their own cities and not seeking any fights with you.”

He shook his head violently. “I could see that you might want to replace some guards if they’re working against the Jarl. I thought the Forsworn king was already dead, killed years ago. And how do you know anything at all about what the Imperial troops are doing?”

Yngvar apparently believed me. “Because she’s rightfully wearing the Jagged Crown, you idiot. She is the rightful High Queen of Skyrim.”

“Who are you calling ... idiot? Wait, what?” His jaw dropped. “When was the moot? Why have I heard nothing from Ulfric about this?”

Yngvar continued. “Because there was no moot, nor is there a need for one. Not when a Septim claims the Crown.”

Kottir looked like he’d been gut punched. “You ... are of Septim blood? Then that is ... I heard about Mede, but didn’t believe it ... that is the robe ... oh, shit.” He turned pale. “That means you’re also the Empress.” He dropped to one knee, then looked confused.

“Um, what title do I use with you?”

“As Yngvar said, right now I am acting as Thane of Markarth. However, I am also quite glad to see you are reasonable, since you are quite correct as to my other title. General Tullius was not, thus General Rikke now commands all ... shall we say ... current Imperial forces in Skyrim. I realize that it is a shock, but ... you can tell your soldiers that the war against the Empire is over. The White Gold Concordat is no more. They will be fighting with their brothers, not against them, against the Thalmor, and soon. But first...”

“First I need to get thirty troops here in the city. Yes, my ... your ... yes, Thane.”

Before he could leave the room, Thongvor and Annekke came back. Thongvor was now wearing full armor and ready for battle. I frowned at that, but then he explained. “I am a warrior and will do battle if need be. But I must be here to rule. Your Annekke will stay with me. Yngvar, go with the Dragonborn in my stead. Do what must be done to secure my city. Kottir, are you going to have any issues with this?”

“No, Jarl Thongvor. I will leave now, my troops will be outside your walls by tomorrow morning, ready to assist however we can.” He saluted and hurried out.

“Very well. We may as well start here in Understone Keep.” With that, we started down the stairs, where two guards waited. As we descended, I took the robe off and handed it back to Serana. The guards had their swords sheathed, with their hands at their sides.

“We sort of couldn’t help but overhear everything. We support the Jarl. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with Calcemo and his guards, all he cares about is the Dwemer ruins and studying the Falmer for their secrets,” one of them said.

“Damn. That could be a problem. Where is he?” They pointed the way.

I went down the hallway they pointed at. It opened into a large, underground room with many different Dwemer artifacts in it. Two men dressed as mages were standing by a worktable. It was as I feared, they were Altmer. I glanced behind me. My companions all loosened their swords, ready for action if need be.