Chapter 69

“Are you sure about this, Martina?”

“No, my love, not really. But it’s the best idea I have at the moment.”

With our success in the city, I had a few of the residents of Chorrol that were actually related to members of the Imperial Legion company stationed at Battlehorn Castle and Fort Rayles with our small group, as well as Honditar. The main army had continued on to the west after two days of rest and replenishment to join the Cheydinhal forces.

The battlements of the castle were visible from the road. “Damn, that’s an impressive sight,” I said.

“I agree, Your Majesty,” Honditar agreed. “I’m just hoping that the forces here are open to reason.”

We came up to the gate. The portcullis was down and blocking the entrance. From inside, a voice yelled down, “Who goes there?”

One of the people with me yelled back, “I’m Erlenne Renoene, mother of Captain Feroc Renoene, commander here. I need to speak with him.”

The guard came down. “Oh, sorry, ma’am, but ... you know security. Please wait, while I get him. My apologies.”

We waited patiently. After a few minutes, a Breton man wearing Imperial plate mail came out of the castle. “Mother? What’s going on here? Guards, open the gate.”

“Captain, you know the orders.”

“Screw the orders, this is my mother.”

“Yes, sir.” The portcullis was slowly raised and we entered the castle courtyard as a group. Several of the off-duty guards came over to listen, as this was a break in their routine. The Captain glared at them and they hurried off.

In a quiet voice, he said, “All right, Mother, what is it? I know you didn’t come see me on a whim, not with...” He raised an arm to point at us. “these armed people with you.”

“My son, do you trust me?”

His brow furrowed. “Of course. I may be in the Imperial Legion, but ... you’re my mother. What’s wrong?”

She pointed to me. “Listen to her. She speaks the truth.”

I said, “Captain Renoene, are you in charge of the troops here in Battlehorn Castle?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any Thalmor stationed here?”

“Not bloody likely. Those stiff necked bastards wouldn’t leave the comfort of a town unless they had a reason.”

“And now a very important question. If a Septim was on the throne, would you follow her instead of Titus Mede?”

He rubbed his chin. “I presume you have a point to these questions. Considering the minor detail that my mother said she’d never leave the safety of the walls of Chorrol, and she appears to be here voluntarily, I’m guessing that’s not a rhetorical question. There’s not that many of you, but at the same time, you and two of your people are wearing armor that I’ve never seen before. While you’re of Imperial descent, most of those with you are Nord. And ... your sword. What in the gods name is that made of?”

“Dragon bone. And my armor is dragon scale.”

He blanched at that statement. “I may be a Breton, but ... I’ve been in the Legion a few years. Served a tour in Skyrim five years ago, before the civil war got going.”

“What civil war?” I smiled. “There’s no civil war in Skyrim. At least, not now.”

“A Septim Heir, eh? I’ve three hundred soldiers here, you know. There’s another three hundred, also under my command, up at Fort Rayles.” He continued to look at me, still rubbing at his chin. “I don’t suppose you are in a position to offer us anything, are you?”

“Well, there would be two choices available to you. The first is service to a true Septim Empress of Tamriel, a descendant of Martin Septim and Chantal Grizé. It’s even likely that your mother might be able to support that claim, especially since it was recognized by Primate Analya of the Chapel of Stendarr in Chorrol, and of course Honditar is here as well as a living witness to some recent ... events. Shame about Count Valga, but there’s also a position open for a Count in Chorrol now.”

“Do I even want to know the second?”

“Probably not. You said that you served in Skyrim. Have you ever heard of the Dragonborn?”

“The bards up there used to sing their songs in the taverns. Some story about a hero that would prevent the end of the world, if I remember right.”

“Heroine. Related to both Akatosh and man. You know that all of the Septim blood are Dragonborn.” I paused, looked off into the distance. “I don’t suppose that you’d perhaps care for a demonstration of the Voice, and the Power that it represents?” I looked back at him. “The Fighters and Mages Guild in Chorrol didn’t believe in the Dragonborn and her power. Now there are no Fighters or Mages Guild members remaining in Chorrol.”

“There’s what, a dozen of you? And I have three hundred troops here, you know. It’s ... look, I’m a reasonable man. That you have my own mother with you is ... it counts for a lot with me. But I can’t simply abandon my command without something...”

Honditar spoke up then. “Firmer, Captain? You know how the Aldmeri Dominion has done things here. You’re from Chorrol, I watched you grow up as a child, taught you when you were younger. You know me. I’ve not heard anyone say this, so I will. This woman before you is the rightful Empress of Tamriel. She’s already liberated Bruma, liberated Chorrol, from the Dominion. You have a few hundred troops, she has a few thousand, not like she needs them.”

He began pacing. “I saw what happened in town when the forces there, and you know how stubborn they were, how much under the thrall of the Dominion they were, fought against her. To be perfectly blunt, I suspect that she and her companions would be tired of killing long before you ran out of soldiers if you were to be against her. But they would prevail, this handful, even against three hundred.”

I spoke up then. “Captain Renoene, my name is Martina Grizé. I am the Dragonborn, I am the High Queen of Skyrim, and I am Septim Empress of Tamriel, recognized as such by all of the Jarls of Skyrim as well as all the Temples of the Nine in Skyrim, and also as such by the Count of Bruma and Primate Analya of Chorrol. I would prefer that your force here and at Fort Rayles join mine in our fight against the Aldmeri Dominion without casualties to them. Make no mistake, though. Honditar is correct. We can and will destroy your force should you stand against us.”

“It is ... difficult. What of the Emperor?”

“Titus Mede? His last words to me were to rule my Empire and to give death and damnation to the Thalmor. And yes, he died at my hand, weeks ago.”

The Captain looked around in disgust, muttering under his breath. Finally, he raised his voice. “Sergeant! Call the assembly! I want everyone here, front and center! No exceptions, pull all the guards from the walls.”

His sergeant looked puzzled, then shouted out the commands. There was a large flurry of activity as the soldiers of the Legion within the fort assembled upon the parade ground. It took a few minutes, but the sergeant was finally able to turn to and report that all of the troops within Battlehorn Castle were present or accounted for.

While that was going in, Irileth had come up to me. “You’re planning on having him as the new Count, I presume? He handles his troops well.”

I said back to her, “Yes, he does. I’m honestly surprised at his skill. He learned well when in Skyrim.”

The assembled companies of soldiers stood at attention. Captain Renoene paced in front of them for a moment, then stopped. “Soldiers of the Imperial Legion! Men and women of the Fourth Regiment!” His voice lowered a bit. “Most of you have served with me for years. Many of you did a tour in Skyrim with me. I ... I cannot order you to follow me in what I am going to do now. But I have news to tell you, news that we should have heard weeks ago. News that has been kept from us by the Aldmeri Dominion.”

There was a muttering in the ranks at that comment. “Titus Mede the Second is dead! But for those of you who know the history of the Empire, you also know that he was a usurper to the Septim Throne. The Septim family has ruled the Empire, ruled Cyrodiil, for hundreds of years. It was said by the Imperial Council that when Martin Septim died defeating Mehrunes Dagon in the Imperial City that there was no successor. That is why they seized power, which allowed the Aldmeri to later dictate things in our Empire.

“They lied.”

When he said that, I knew it was time and motioned to Lydia and Jordris. They again brought forth my crown and robes. This time Surgus brought up my Imperial banner.

“I present to you, soldiers of my Fourth Regiment, the High Queen of Skyrim and true Septim Empress of Tamriel, Her Imperial Majesty Martina Grizé! To her, I pledge my sword and my honor. What you do yourselves is upon your own conscience.”

With that, he turned, pulled his sword and then went to his knee before me, presenting the hilt of his sword to me. His sergeants and troops looked stunned at his words, then looked at what I wore, looked at who was with me. First one, then another, then finally all of them emulated their captain.

I stepped forward, taking the hilt of his sword in my hand. “As the Empress of Tamriel, I accept you, and with your sword, all your soldiers, into my service. Choose one of your soldiers to take your place as commander of the Fourth Regiment, for you are no longer Captain of this Regiment.” He looked up at me in shock at my words. “You are now Count Renoene, Count of Chorrol and member of the Imperial Court.”

A short time later, the new Count of Chorrol and I examined the map of Cyrodiil spread out over the table in the main hall Battlehorn Castle. “The troops at Fort Rayles, they were also under my command, so they won’t be a problem. The commander of the troops stationed along the border between Forts Ontus and Linchal is a reasonable man as well. I can pen a note to him and send a messenger that he’ll recognize this evening, if you wish. I expect he will join your forces without an argument.”

“What about along the coast, between Hammerfell and Anvil? I have an army of two thousand that, if things went according to plan, will be at the gates of Anvil in the next few days. They’re to announce the death of Titus Mede and that they are present to return the city and Cyrodiil to rule by a Septim. I’d like to take the city ... gods, I’d like to take all of Cyrodiil ... without killing anyone at all.”

“Two thousand? There’s only two hundred troops there, so that won’t be a problem. No, the problem here is going to be this area, centered on Kvatch. There was an effort to rebuild some of the town, but when the Aldmeri moved in, they threw everyone out and turned it into a city of their own.”

“Of course. With those Ayleid ruins around, it’d make the perfect location for them to gather relics and do research. I don’t think Delphine knew about that.” I raised my head and looked around the room. “Aela! Time for your first mission.”

She came walking up. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“We’re changing our plans, so you’ll need to travel. Are you up to a trip?”

“That’s why I’m here. What do you need?”

“Count Renoene, could I trouble you to borrow, say, fifty of the troops stationed here?”

He chuckled. “Last time I looked they’re in the Imperial Legion. That makes them your troops, Your Majesty.”

“Ah, just so. Very well. I need a sergeant and fifty troops. They’ll be going with me to Skingrad. Our original plan had the force coming up from Anvil securing Skingrad, but if there are Thalmor at Kvatch, there’s no way they’ll not react to a large army coming north. So I’ll take care of that, then continue on to Kvatch myself. Aela, you’re to tell the Captains of the groups that took Chorrol and Cheydinhal that they are to continue south and secure Leyawiin. Once you do that, come find us.

“The borders with Hammerfell are now not in question, so the need for a large armed force on them is a moot point. Instead of twelve companies in six forts, I want three, split among the six forts. That’s enough for bandits and smugglers. I want seven companies gathered near Weye. I want that bridge to the city blockaded. The other two are to blockade the northern bridge. They won’t be able to stop ships, but that’s why Aela is going to change orders. With Leyawiin in our hands, then ships can’t enter or leave the inland sea.”

“A favor from you, Your Majesty. I want to lead the troops to the Imperial City.”

“I will be very vexed if you get yourself killed and are thus unable to fulfill your duties as the Count of Chorrol.”

He smiled. “Gods, it’s good to have someone in charge that understands. When do you leave?”

“We’ll head for Skingrad at first light.”

“I’d like to say that the rest of our troops will be on the road within the day. I can’t. But within three, at the most. I’ll make sure you have one of my best units with you as well, just in case.”

Lydia had been listening in from a distance and snorted when the Count said that. He looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. She chuckled a little. “I’m sorry, Count. It’s just ... you’ve not seen Martina in combat. I have. Most of the time it’s more a case of trying to keep up with her, not protecting her. And just ... don’t. Don’t say that she can’t be that good. Trust me, she is.”

He looked across the room, where Honditar was sitting quietly, observing things like the hunter he had been. The old Altmer noticed him looking, so then got up and moved a bit closer. “I don’t feel like yelling across the room, Captain Renoene. Sorry, Count. But just because my voice can’t carry far doesn’t mean my hearing doesn’t work. And this young Nord lady is quite correct. Chantal Grizé was the deadliest person, either man or woman, that I’ve ever seen use a blade.” He looked at me. “Until now.”

Count Renoene sighed. “Very well. It truly does go against my grain as both a soldier ... well, former soldier ... but I understand the need. We’ll be there when you need us, Your Majesty. Be careful.”

“Of course, I’ll try. And don’t you snort at me, Lydia. I do at least always try, even if I don’t always succeed. Except at winning, of course, and in that, I think we’ve had some modicum of success.” I paused for a moment. “You know, one thing I realized just now that was lacking in my reports from Delphine. It’s possible she didn’t know. It won’t matter for Anvil, but ... who is in charge of Skingrad?”

“It’s Skingrad. Who else would be in charge but Janus Hassildor. He’s the only noble that no one has dared bother, even the Aldmeri. He’s such a powerful sorcerer, no one really knows how he’s still alive and not an elf. The Aldmeri sort of leave him alone to run his city. With you as Empress, well, I hope he accepts you.”

I started to say something, then stopped. If he’s kept his secret this long, I can keep it a few days more. “Very well, Count. Good luck, and ... good hunting.”

We quickly covered the distance back to Chorrol, then continued eastward along the road. The ruins of a fort straddled the road, but no one stirred in its depths. When we got to the bottom of the hill and the trees cleared out, I could see the lake ahead and across it, the walls of the Imperial City and the Ayleid tower of the Imperial Palace reaching into the sky.

I glanced at it, then turned my eyes away and towards the road ahead. I’d soon enough see more of the city. The road turned south and we passed a small group of soldiers on horseback heading north. The leader of them started to stop us, then noticed that we had Imperial soldiers escorting us. “Sergeant, where and why are you going with these people?”

The sergeant looked up at the soldier. “Ah, Knight Lieutenant. Just following orders from our Captain to escort them. The lady is from near Bruma, and she’s in a family way. I think she’s related to an important family of the region, so ... you know, I’m a sergeant, he’s a Captain, so my men and I are doing what we’re ordered.”

The Knight looked us over a couple of times, then said, “Fine. Carry on.”