It has been too long since I managed to catch up, and when I do, it is with this. After reading several posts where I can only imagine that Lady Cora is going to let her arm be rendered permanently lame in order to keep her seat, I was beginning to wonder if her vassals would find it necessary to step in for her. Seriously, the Lord of Cardonaccum has stones.

And then, of course, you bring back Talos. A Deity to dance with the Goddess, indeed. I must admit you succeeded in surprising me, and your use of subtlety is something that I can't ever hope to equal. But you did it. He is most assuredly of the Blood of Dragons.

Very neat! Loads of mystery and deliciously unanswered questions. As ever, I loved the little role that Cinnie played. You did a great job with this magical encounter, from beginning to end and the lingering questions beyond.

And I see that Cora is just beginning to deal with the question that widows and widowers have asked ourselves for ages: ‘How can one hope to compete with a ghost?’

Cinnie was not alarmed by the general in the shadows. I like how she paw-pinned Lady Cora’s hand.

Whoa, Talos gives a new meaning to “The Fire Within!” That was a nicely hot, delicately awkward in the aftermath, and perfectly intriguing scene between the Lord and the General. Awesome!

@SubRosa: Yes, how did he get there so fast indeed? It's a long trip from Wayrest to Cardonaccum! But General Talos rarely did anything by convention, did he? Whisper of dragon magic? More like a kiss of the Dragon! And yes, Lord Wallace has been her first, and so far, her only love. She would feel guilt over feeling that way with another.

@BamBam: Sometimes it's nice to have more than one episode to catch up to. I'm glad Lady Cora kept you guessing as to the depths of her determination. I recall your previous comments about GENERAL TALOS, DRAGONBORN OF THE NORTH!!! and how I felt reading them, knowing that this was coming! Yes, he is indeed of the Blood of Dragons.

@Acadian: I knew that you would totally love little Cinnie. And yes, I knew you would empathize with Lady Cora's quandary of her loyalty to Lord Wallace and her physical attraction to General Talos.

@ Grits: No, Cinnie was not alarmed by the presence of the General. She is a very smart cat, indeed. I'm glad you liked the scene between the two of them. It's about time we started seeing the sparks fly, in my opinion.

The story so far: Lady Cora has had a rather unsettling encounter with General Talos, whom she least expected to see on this cold spring afternoon. Especially while preparing to perform one of the least pleasant duties of a Lord: the execution of a recalcitrant traitor.

******************
Chapter Thirty-five

“It’s completely healed,” Siné’s voice reached me as she palpated gently at my shoulder. “How did this happen, milady? And in such a short period of time?” She came around to face me, her eyes serious. “I know you spent much of the afternoon in the apothecary garden, but . . .” Her voice trailed off and her eyes sharpened. “Can Nirn’s power work so quickly?”

I regarded her silently in the flickering candlelight. It was late, and the others had already gone abed. Sir Broc’s head, impaled upon a pike, looked out over the moat and the drawbridge. His steward swung from the gibbet, awaiting dawn to be taken down.

I had not told anyone of my encounter with General Talos, nor of my healed wounds. Instead I drove myself through the grim task of execution, holding Sir Broc’s gaze without wavering until they forced his head down onto the block. Robert had performed his task well, and I only had to guide Thistlethorn into the groove below the traitor’s throat. The weight of the heavy weapon did the rest.

The amount of blood that flowed didn’t surprise me, only the manner of its flowing. Violent spurts of crimson gushed from both head and severed neck in wide arcing sprays. Decorated with blood for the second time in as many days, I fought back nausea as Broc’s life subsided into a spreading pool, then ceased.

Of all the eyes on me that evening, I was most aware of Siné’s. I knew I couldn’t hide the truth from my castle healer. Sure enough, as soon as the guests had bid their farewell and I retired for the night, she followed me. Siné would not leave me until she had seen my injuries for herself.

Now I regarded the older woman. How much do I tell her? “I can’t let this be common knowledge, Siné,” I murmured. “I would prefer to let others think you have healed me.”

“Was it Nirn?” Siné persisted. “For if it was, that would be invaluable knowledge for both of us. Anything to help you recover from illness and injury as quickly as possible can only help you as Lord of Cardonaccum.”

Siné is right. But what use is it to know, if it won’t happen again? Not like that, I won’t let it! Again I felt the sickening sense of betrayal. “Siné, I can not let anyone know what h- happened.” I shook my head. “It is unlikely to occur again.”

“What you tell me tonight stays between you and me, milady,” Siné held her fingers up between us in an inclusive gesture. “But if I am to understand how it happened, I can make it happen again if need be.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t just Nirn, Siné. It was Nirn and - and something else.”

Her brows rose. “Something else?” she repeated. “Whatever it was, it has done you a great deal of good. Your pain is gone, the arrowhead is gone, even your stutter is absent for the moment.” She sat beside me on the edge of the bed. “Can we duplicate the manner of healing?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not likely to occur again.” Again I swallowed back the bitter taste of guilt.

“Milady,” Siné sighed. “I am a priestess of Arkay, and qualified to hear confession. I am the castle healer, privy to secrets I must carry to my grave. Above all, I wish you would consider me your friend, for I have always been so, ever since you came here.”

I considered her words, memories of the first time I met her surfacing in the silence between us.

“This is Siné, our healer and priestess of Arkay,” Lord Wallace waved the woman up. Slender, graceful, her blue eyes full of serene kindness, the woman met my gaze with a nod. Her rich brown hair, bound in a single braid beneath her right ear, draped over her shoulder and fell to her waist.

My uncle drew himself up and puffed his chest out. “My pleasure, Lady Siné,” he said. Behind me I could sense my cousin Theodastyr stiffen to attention as the healer drew near. She ignored the men, her eyes on me. “I believe your healer will find naught to complain.” Bedastyr continued.

“Come with me, child,” Siné took my cold hand in hers. “We will go away from these men, somewhere with some privacy.”

My heart pounding, for I dreaded what would come next, I followed the older woman. How would she react? She would know the truth about me - one cannot hide secrets of this nature from a healer. Once she tells Wallace of the truth, would he void the agreement and send me back to my uncle’s household? Or would life here at Cardonaccum only be worse? I could not imagine anything more adverse than what I had already endured since my father cast my mother and I out into the Reach winter.

As I expected, Siné’s eyes were changed as she looked up from her examination. “Sit up, milady,” she lowered my skirts over my legs and eased my knees to the edge of the bed. The healer moved to the nearby table and washed her hands a second time. “Your womb quickened. What happened to the babe?”

“I lost it when it was discovered.” Beaten out of me, more like.

“Does your uncle know?”

I shook my head wordlessly. Siné dried her hands deliberately on the white towel and set it down beside the washing-bowl. She came back to me and bent down, taking my chin in her firm grip and lifting my face until I met her gaze. “Did you love him?”

Did I love him? “He is my c- cousin.”

Siné did not let me avoid the question. “But did you love him? Do you still?” She read the answer in my eyes and sighed. “So it was painful for you, wasn’t it?”

Memories of my mother’s treatment at the hands of my father flitted behind my closed lids. “Is it ever without pain for women?” I felt Siné’s hand fall away and her withdrawal. When I opened my eyes, she was seated beside the bed, her gaze on me steady.

“Lord Wallace is a good man,” she said quietly. “I’m sure he would show you otherwise, for his first wife never had cause to complain.”

“You’ll tell him?” My anxiety about the marriage surged into fresh panic. “But he’ll c- cancel the marriage contract!”

“I’ll tell him only what he needs to know,” Siné answered. “That he must always be gentle with you, milady. He won’t cancel the contract, even if he suspects. Your virginity, or lack of it, was never a condition of the marriage as far as he is concerned.”

Siné had been right, I returned to the present. Our first night together had shown me that things between a man and a woman could be wonderful indeed. And it only got better as we came to know each other through the years.

“Do you remember?” Siné asked. “I never told Wallace about your cousin, nor your babe. I only told him that you knew only that it can be painful for women, and that you were terrified.”

“Did he ever guess the truth?” I wondered aloud.

“That sadness in his eyes that never went away?” Siné reminded me of a wayward comment I had once made to her. “That wasn’t grief for his wife, not after I spoke to him. He didn’t mind that he wasn’t your first, but rather that you had only known pain.”

“He never spoke of it to me,” I wondered at it. Just how much do I still not know of the man who shared my bed for ten years?

“He never wanted to cause you pain, nor remind you of it.” Siné smiled at me, but her eyes shared the sorrow I felt. She took my hand in hers and squeezed it comfortingly. “Now tell me.” Though her voice remained soft, it held an edge of unmistakable command. “What happened after we left you alone in the study?”

“I - I wasn’t alone, after all,” I drew my breath. Dare I confide in Siné? Even though she is my friend? “There was another present.”

“Another?” Siné repeated. “Who?”

I shook my head and looked down at our clasped hands. “I c- can’t say.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Siné pressed gently.

I met Siné’s gaze. “Until I understand what happened, it’s best I say naught of it.”

Siné drew a deep breath. “What if you never understand it?”

I shrugged. “Then I’ll never speak of it again.”

So we have fast-forwarded past the unpleasant bits, and moved to the more pleasant afterglow of Broc being dead.

But what use is it to know, if it won’t happen again?
Now whenever a woman thinks like this in a romance, it means beyond a shadow of a doubt that by the end she is going to end up in bed whomever it "won't happen again" with.

Followed by a wonderful flashback to Cora's arrival at Cardonaccum and first meeting with Sine. We learn more about the circumstances of Cora's banishment by her father, and how she married Wallace. Also we see the beginning of her friendship with Sine with a bond of trust between the two.


nits:
Now I regarded the older woman. [i]How much do I tell her?
You have an errant [i] italics mark left there. Also, I am wondering if the entire first five paragraphs were meant to be in italics? It does not all feel like a flashback, or internal monologue.

I was relieved to hear that the executions went smoothly and as planned, without any blade falter by Lady Cora. Although gruesome to think about, the image of Broc’s head on a spike was quite apropos here.

Nice job on the flashback. As ever, you show the right stuff at the right time. It seems Sine is a true friend indeed. And a master of discretion.

“There was another present.” - I like her (your) choice of phrasing here. Not even revealing the gender of the other person. Cora knows well how to keep secrets from leaking a piece at a time.

Did she have Broc's head piked as a punishment for splashing her?

How wonderful to read about the beginning of Sine and Lady Cora’s friendship and trust. By the end of the episode Sine’s and Lady Cora’s emotions were perfectly clear though never spelled out on the page. Beautifully done!

@SubRosa: I have to agree with your oh-so-true comments about women in romances! "It'll never happen again" only proves the old maxim "Never say never!" I found this the perfect time to show a little more of how difficult Lady Cora's early life was and how much she had suffered under her uncle's care. We have not yet seen why she was banished by her father - that will come later. I promise! And thanks for catching that idle italicization - I had forgotten to include the closing italic mark!

@Acadian: Yes, Siné is one of those characters that is always a joy to write. There is so much of her that it is difficult to skim over her parts, and unfair to one of the most awesome healers I've had the privilege to write. I wanted to show that she is so much more than just a healer to Lady Cora - along with our beloved Jannet, she did much to ease Lady Cora's transition into her new role at Cardonaccum ten years ago.

@ghastley: Yes, Lady Cora knows how to keep her secrets! She's full of them! And no, Broc's head on a pike is the typical result of a beheading - it's a warning to others to not mess with the current Lord of Cardonaccum!

@Grits: I'm glad you enjoyed this little bit of estrogenic writing. I felt after all the blood and gore and pain it was time for a little feminine bonding. While the two women didn't exactly talk about hair, it served its purpose.

The story so far: With Sir Broc beheaded and Sir Enrick set up in his place, the rest of the spring and the following summer has brought good fortune and a full harvest to Cardonaccum. But storm clouds are beginning to gather once more on the horizon on this sunny late fall day.

*****************
Chapter Thirty-six

“He’s settled ten mares over the summer,” Cadric announced as the stream of horses passed us. “And Nightshade’s had twelve of his own. Both are right happy and content, if ye ask me.” The two stallions brought up the rear, tossing their heads and prancing, sparks flying from shod hooves.

The sun picked out the gleaming highlights of the horses’ coats, healthy after a summer of good pasture and plenty of activity, both in the breeding shed and outside. Nightshade’s black coat shimmered violet in and out of the shade of the trees, while Inferno’s red color echoed that of the leaves above their heads.

I smiled at the aged horse-master. “That’s good news. I’m certain Lieutenant Alorius will be glad to have his stallion back in fine fettle.”

Titus joined us, his eyes scanning the mounts. “Good afternoon, Cadric,” he addressed the older man. “I trust Inferno wasn’t too difficult for you?”

Cadric eyed the taller Colovian thoughtfully. Titus turned to meet his gaze. “The truth, sir? He was a handful in the beginnin’, but we put him with a boss mare for his first and she put him in his place right quick. After that he was fine.”

“And come s- spring,” I added, “we’ll make certain you get the pick of the foals!”

The Colovian’s eyes grew somber. “Ah, that is something I will need to discuss with you, Lady Cora.” His left hand rose and drew my attention to the parchment between his fingers. I recognized the General’s seal from our copy of the treaty and lifted my gaze to him.

“Walk with me, then, Lieutenant,” I gathered my skirts. “Good work, Cadric. We will speak more later.”

The horse-master knew he had been dismissed. He knuckled his forelock at us and departed after the newly arrived young stock. We began walking toward the apothecary garden.

“You have a message from General T- Talos?” I asked. It had been six months since those tumultuous few days which ended in Sir Broc’s beheading. I had avoided thinking of my last encounter with the Colovian commander for much of that time, but my body had an irritating habit of reminding me when I was alone at night.

“Yes, Lady Cora,” Titus answered. “I’ll let you read it first.”

I stopped beside the low wall which delineated the garden and absently rubbed my palm over Cinnie’s head where she sat beside the entrance. Titus handed me the missive and waited while I read it.

King Cuhlecain has called us back to Cyrodiil. Prepare your Legion for immediate withdrawal to Wayrest. Transport to Anvil will be waiting. General Talos.

My hand trembled slightly as I looked up at Titus. “It’s late in the year for sailing, Lieutenant,” I kept my voice steady. “It will take a sevenday to get to Wayrest with the autumn rains we’ve been having.”

“Yes,” Titus’s gaze seemed unusually somber. “There’s more.” He withdrew a sealed missive from the cuff of his gauntlet and held it to me. As we traded parchments, I breathed slowly.

“Do you know what this c- contains?” I asked him.

“Only the gist of it,” he replied. Something in his voice unsettled me, and I hesitated to crack the seal. “You may want to sit down and read this in some privacy,” Titus added. Silently I nodded and moved to the wall. It was just the right height for me to set my rump down. Cinnie pranced up to me and butted my wrist with her head, purring loudly.

Titus withdrew a few steps away, his gaze on the plants within the garden. The parchment crackled as I broke the seal and unfolded the missive.

Lord of Cardonaccum, I have been commanded to relay an invitation to you. King Cuhlecain requests your presence in Cyrodiil City to celebrate the Emperor’s Day. Lieutenant Alorius will escort you the entire way. General Talos.

The terse message left me reeling, questions surfacing in rapid succession in my mind. “Emperor’s Day?” I looked up at Titus. “We don’t celebrate that here.”

“There hasn’t been an Emperor in ages,” Titus agreed. “But it was the day the old Empire celebrated the ruler’s birthday. It falls on the thirtieth day of Frostfall.”

I gasped. “But that’s a month from now! How c- can we travel quickly enough to arrive in time?” My fingers clenched on the parchment as my gaze drifted over the apothecary garden. “This is not a good t- time for me to leave Cardonaccum.” I shook my head in defiance.

“General Talos is well aware of that,” Titus answered. “He knows that you need to stay for the harvest, and put Cardonaccum up for the winter. He also knows that taking us away leaves Cardonaccum exposed. But he doesn’t make such orders lightly. There is something else going on that we are but a small part of.”

I regarded Titus solemnly. “It’s no secret that this K- King Cuhlecain intends to crown himself Emperor. But he hasn’t yet taken Cyrodiil City, how can he claim the Ruby Throne?” Suddenly my eyes widened. “General T- Talos will take it for him . . .”

“So it seems,” Titus murmured, not meeting my gaze. “There is more. Talos’s messenger tells me that Cuhlecain wishes to ratify the treaty you have with Talos, only in his own name.”

“A treaty with King Cuhlecain?” I began to shake my head. “No, no more treaties. I have enough between General T- Talos and Baron Godras of Phrygia!” Not to mention the contract with Bedastyr. I had given the covenant little thought until Wallace’s death. Now I had to consider whether or not to renew it as Wallace’s successor or let it lapse.

Now I rose to my feet and walked a few paces away from the garden. “Isn’t the K- King getting ahead of himself? Planning to celebrate the Emperor’s birthday when he is not yet crowned Emperor? When he has not even taken the White Gold Tower?”

“He has always been impetuous,” Titus answered carefully. “It has stood him in good stead in the past.”

I turned and faced Titus. “What if I declined - politely and with regrets, of course - this invitation of Cuhlecain’s?”

The Colovian’s lips thinned slightly, but his gaze did not waver. “Then my Legion would be punished for arriving without you. We are your designated escort.”

“Punished?” My eyes flickered toward the activity in the bailey, up on the walls, where legionaries and thistlemen patrolled and drilled side by side. “Punished how?”

“Decimation. The officers are drawn, hung and quartered.” The neutral tone in Titus’s voice in contrast to the gruesome images his words conjured stunned me.

“Would you c- consider refusing your orders to withdraw to Cyrodiil?”

“No.”

“Of course not. Such a silly question to ask, I know.” I returned to the wall and re-seated myself, fighting the nausea that threatened to destroy any composure I had left. “How s- soon must you leave?”

“Immediately,” Titus responded. “I already have my men gathering their gear and supplies for the move to Wayrest. We want to take advantage of the good weather while it lasts.”

I looked up at the blue sky, the precise shade of infinity. “Yes, before the rains makes the road impassable.” I sighed. “A sevenday to Wayrest, then how long a sea journey to Anvil?”

“The winds are turning unpredictable this time of the year,” Titus answered. “Another sevenday, maybe ten days. A day to embark, another to disembark. Then five to seven days on the Gold Road to Cyrodiil City, depending on how much of the countryside has sworn to Cuhlecain. Last I heard, Kvatch and Skingrad are still holding out.”

“If they are hostile, will your Legion be able to get past them?” I wondered.

“I’m certain Talos will make arrangements for your safe passage, Lady Cora,” Titus replied. “Either by force or through diplomacy.”

“I’m not worried about myself, Lieutenant,” I met his gaze. “Tell me, has this - decimation happened before? Who ordered it?”

“It has long been a method of punishment for wayward Legion officers,” Titus kept his gaze level on mine. “Officers who permit Legions to disobey orders are considered traitors. It has been the prerogative of Emperors to dictate such punishment.”

“And King Cuhlecain?” I pressed. “Has he ordered this in the past?”

“Yes,” Titus’s eyes turned grim. “When General Talos resisted his order to take Old H’roldan because it was too heavily fortified for a single Legion to take, Cuhlecain threatened to decimate the Legion.”

I felt my brows rise at his words. I recalled the news of Old H’roldan’s fall over two years ago, in the spring before my father and brother met their fates at Sancre Tor. “So General T- Talos obeyed to protect his men?” Titus nodded. “He must not have enjoyed Cuhlecain’s favor since.”

“I do not presume,” the Colovian officer reminded me. If that were me, I’d be resentful at being backed into such a corner! My men for what gain? I considered Titus thoughtfully. If I refuse, would Cuhlecain have the guts to carry out such a loathsome act? Why would he do so? I don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Especially affairs happening so far away - what influence do I have in Cyrodiil City?

“I understand, Lieutenant,” I said finally. “But I must have time to settle my affairs and prepare Cardonaccum for my absence.”

“You have good people here, Lady Cora,” Titus tipped his head back toward the bailey behind him. “They will keep Cardonaccum safe through the winter.”

“It is the spring that worries me,” I answered. “My cousin will likely press for renewal of our contract with Grey Hills, and our five-year tribute to Phrygias is due next harvest.” I shook my head. “And can you guarantee that I will be back before winter?”

Titus only shook his head.

You weren’t kidding when you said there were storm clouds on the horizon!

And enter our favorite (not) king. So much for Lady Cora to process so quickly. And what indeed would Cuhlecain want from the far away and relatively small realm lorded by Cora? I predict that she will reluctantly accompany Titus’ Legion.

So it seems this story may be hitting the road (and seas).

Time for more Cardio! Erm, Cardo that is.

So it was not only Cora getting some romance in over the summer. Nightshade and Inferno certainly have lived up to their titles as studs!

So King Cuhlecain wants to see Lady Cora? Doubtlessly to bring her over to his side, as opposed to Talos'. I was a little surprised to hear that he did not hold the Imp City though. I was expecting this - the conquest of High Rock - took place after unifying Cyrodiil.

I loved the extra glimpse into the High Rock politics you gave us here, of tributes and contracts. Lordy Cora has more than just harvests and day to day business to worry about.

So too does Alorius it seems! Well, this story has certainly taken quite an unexpected turn!

I admit the latest timeskip took me by surprise. I thought we weren't done with the fallout of Broccoli's betrayal and powerplay. (I like that nickname too much after having used it once.)

However, the new twist suggest the fallout might still be coming. With Cora gone, there is all kinds of bad things that could happen to Cardonaccum. It would be quite ironic if this story ends with her at the head of a conquering/liberating army.


And king Cuhlecain. We haven't seen him yet or heard much of him for that matter. He sure doesn't seem to be lacking in confidence however. As pointed out, by announcing his festival he's pretty much crowned himself already. If he doesn't succeed in conquering the tower, or even if the siege would just drag out too long, it would be a major loss of face and potential rallying point for both conquered and non-conquered territories. And given precedence, there is a possibility that he'll lay the blame at his subordinates and seek to punish them. Which with the aforementioned loss of face will only make things worse for the king. Desertion and all that.




In other news, Talos' mystery grows. How did he enter Cardonaccum? Was it by ways of the same strange magic that let him bypass the normal rules regarding Cora and healing? Or was it just a matter of asking one of his men to open a backdoor and keep quiet?

Why did he apologize? Was it because his miracle has a price he didn't mention, was it because of the unasked kiss or was it simply because he tore a drat arrowhead out of her with his bare hands?

@Acadian: Yes, Cuhlecain is our favorite king! We just love to beat up on him. I have to admit that Destri's version will strongly influence mine, though I doubt Lady Cora will find him so short as he appears in Interregnum.

@SubRosa: High Rock is not yet conquered in this story. I see it as a process that took many years, bit by stubborn bit. Cardonaccum lies in the far northwest corner, near where the peninsula runs into the mountains separating High Rock from Skyrim. As such it is logical that General Talos would go there after Old Hroldan and Sancre Tor. As for Wayrest, there is an uneasy truce for the moment between that vital port and Talos. It won't last, though, as his ambitions become more evident.

@Mr.Cloudy: So many questions! That means I am laying out this story as it should. I want people to wonder what is ahead for our intrepid heroine and her staunch supporters, which include Lieutenant Titus for the moment.

The story so far: Lady Cora and Lieutenant Titus have been summoned to appear before King Cuhlecain, ostensibly to ratify Cardonaccum's treaty with General Talos. However reluctant she is to leave Cardonaccum so close to winter, Lady Cora feels obligated enough to Titus and his men to obey the "invitation." Coming up, her first sea voyage.

******************
Chapter Thirty-seven

"Get yer fetchin' arses up here!" The shout sliced through the chaos to our ears and drew our gazes to the horse transport before us. Not aware of our presence, or just doesn't give a damn? The source of the insulting command was not looking at us, but rather down at the knot of soldiers struggling with their mounts. The uneasy horses skittered at the base of the loading ramp. “I ain’t got all day!”

I had to agree with the horses’ apparent assessment of the sea-going vessel that bobbed dockside. A small, ketch-rigged cog, it rode low in the water, its hold already full of water tuns and fodder for the cavalry mounts. A small battlemented platform crowned its bowsprit. I recognized the lethal lines of a ballista, unstrung, crouched behind the crenellated walls.

Cog

A similar, larger structure rose above the stern, high enough for a Colovian to stand beneath. The space beneath the platform was crammed full of cargo and supplies. A long pole jutted out the side of the deck into the water. The rudder. Side-mounted instead of rear-mounted.

Morna pressed close behind me as the big Nord shouted more invectives at the hapless soldiers. Inferno snaked his head and pinned his ears against his neck, nearly sweeping his handler over the edge of the dock. The sailor uttered a particularly foul curse that made Morna gasp and strode down the ramp toward the stallion.

I put my hand on Titus’s arm, preventing him from stepping toward the horses. “No, Lieutenant, anger will only make things worse.” I shook off Morna’s clutching hands and gathered my skirts. Before the others could stop me, I ducked between the scrambling horses, running my hands over lathered backs and tense necks. The animals settled down as I passed each one, snorting and blowing but otherwise standing quietly.

Inferno’s haunches rose before me as he reared against the sailor’s hard hand on the reins. I stepped to the side and chanted a lullaby my mother had taught me. His hooves clattered to the dock as he swung his head toward me, his ears pricked. The Nord stared at me when I held my hand out for the reins.

After a moment, the sailor dropped the straps into my hands. I smiled up at the stallion and ran my hand down his nose from the round star between his eyes to the velvety soft skin between his flared nostrils. He blew against my fingers and dropped his head until we stood eye to eye.

“Shush, Inferno,” I whispered to the charger, so like my husband’s Nightshade. For a moment I regretted leaving the handsome black stallion at home. But having two stallions on board such a small ship, especially at this time of the year, would only spell disaster. And Nightshade is much too big for me! Rosehill is much more my size. I glanced back to where the elder mare waited at the rear of the group. Titus had generously loaned her to me for the trip, as, in his words, we suited each other so well.

I turned to Inferno’s handler. “Best lead the mares on board first,” I advised him. “Then this one will want t- to go where they are.” Now I turned to the bemused sailor, whose sun-worn eyes shifted from me to the red stallion. “Sir, please tone down your language. Horses are very sensitive to voices and do not like shouting or cursing.”

“Th’ sooner these fetchers are on board,” he growled, but his tone was much softer, “th’ less cussin’ there’ll be!” He turned and stomped back up the ramp.

I waved up Rosehill’s handler, one of the legion slaves. The boy, just seventeen, led the mare quickly up the ramp. She followed him readily, her ears pricked forward as she passed Inferno. The stallion whickered at her, but she only switched her tail at him.

As I moved to return to my escort, a tall figure caught my eye. His elbows rested on the rough surface of a dock piling, and blue smoke drifted around his golden face from a pipe cradled in one long-fingered hand. Russet hair pulled back from a widow’s peak showed his sharp features to advantage. Unlike the Nords and Bretons of Cardonaccum, he had no beard. Slanted eyes regarded me thoughtfully as he puffed on the pipe.

I had not seen Altmeri since leaving my father’s household, and the sight of the ship’s captain sent shivers down my spine. But not all Altmeri are so cruel as Aldon, I reminded myself. But I still felt unease at the thought of sharing ship’s quarters with a member of the elder race. Swallowing back unpleasant memories, I returned to the dock and my anxious maid.

“Milady!” she exclaimed. “Such rudeness!”

“The Nord?” Morna nodded. “He doesn’t know who we are,” I returned mildly, as much for Titus’s ears as my own. “The day grows short, and he has much work to do.” The sooner the ship gets underway, the further it can travel before night comes. I turned to Titus. “Have the horses traveled by s- sea before, Lieutenant?”

“Yes,” his gaze drifted over the mounts as they filed onto the ship, Inferno stamping impatiently at the foot of the ramp.

Inferno’s hooves on the ramp drew our attention back to the loading process. The big stallion pranced up the wood planks and hesitated at the top. He stretched his head forward and blew at the deck just a short hop below. From the top of the deck ramp leading down into the bowels of the ship, Rosehill lifted her head and whickered softly. Inferno jumped down onto the cog and tossed his head at the rocking of the vessel. But the calm demeanor of his mother apparently reassured him, and he strutted after her down into the hold.

“If it pleasse the ladies and the gentleman,” a hissing voice drew our attention to the strange figure now bending down to our trunks. “I sshall bring thesse aboard.” Morna gasped as we took in the reptilian head of the crewman. Strong muscles rippled as he picked up the largest container and swung it to one shoulder, causing the scaled skin to shimmer in the sunlight. Sharp teeth parted to reveal a forked, snake-like tongue. Akaviri? I wondered briefly. But no, he has legs.

“Thank you, crewman,” Titus’s tone was nonchalant. He caught our stares as the lizard-man strode for another ship moored further down the dock. “He’s an Argonian, from the Black Marsh.”

“But that’s on the other side of T- Tamriel from here!” I exclaimed. Titus smiled at us.

“Sailors go everywhere,” was all he said. I flushed, embarrassed at revealing my own provincial ignorance. Of course, they go everywhere.

Now the tall Altmer approached us. Clad in unrelieved black linen doublet and breeches, he struck an imposing figure. “Lieutenant Alorius,” he bowed to Titus. “I am glad to see you again, sir.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Titus turned to me. “Lady Cora, this is Captain Solinar of the good ship Arpenmalatu.”

Noble Truth. He knows his Aldmeri. “It is my pleasure to meet you, sir,” I tipped my head back to meet his gaze. Captain Solinar bowed his head in greeting and smiled at me.

“Lady Cora, miss,” he nodded at Morna. “Welcome to my humble ship.” He waved expansively down the dock toward another vessel. “If you will please come aboard, I will show you to your quarters.” He turned and strode past the horse transport.

“Quarters?” Morna whispered to me. “Where on these little boats is there room for quarters?” I shushed her with a look and followed after the Captain.

Unlike the cogs hired for troop transports, Arpenmalatu turned out to be slightly larger and more elegant. Her bow lacked the forecastle of the smaller ships, and her sides were sleeker, not as rounded. I noted that her stern had a more triangular shape, and she had three masts. A multitude of cables dropped from the heights down to the deck in spiderweb patterns. Unlike the horizontal yards of the cogs, the vessel’s own sail supports sloped toward the deck at sharp angles.

Caravel

“She is a caravel,” Captain Solinar had noticed my interest in his command. I could hear the pride in his voice. “The latest in Altmeri ship technology. She can ride out storms at sea without capsizing, and seasickness is less likely aboard her.”

I glanced at Lieutenant Alorius. “Less seasickness? Then why aren’t the horses traveling by caravel?”

He shrugged and tipped his head toward the Altmer captain. I shifted my gaze to the tall commander.

“Good question, madam,” he inclined his head to me. His brown eyes held no condescension. “Because of the narrower sides, a caravel does not hold as much as a cog. More water can be fitted aboard that cog,” he thumbed in the direction of the ship we had just passed, “than aboard Arpenmalatu. I understand your holding breeds horses?”

“Yes, Captain,” I answered. “Chargers and palfreys.”

He lifted his brows at me. “I must admit I do not know the difference. But I do know that a single horse requires a great deal of water, and I am certain you are well aware of their capacious thirst.”

I felt an easing of tension as we reached the loading ramp for Arpenmalatu. He is not like the Altmeri at my father’s court. I find that I rather like him. Perhaps this trip won’t be so bad, after all.

How wonderful to see this introduction to seagoing vessels through Lady Cora’s inexperienced eyes!

Her way with critters shines through again as she plays 'Horse Whisperer' and helps ease loading of the animals.

Happily, she seems to get on with the Altmeri captain. He was wise to acknowledge her expertise with horses, just as she was wise to acknowledge his expertise at shipping.

I hope that her loss of contact with the soil of Nirn during the voyage will not cause her problems.

A cog! Those things always look like they are about to flip over to me. But apparently they worked quite well in the North Sea and Baltic. And those stem and stern castles made excellent fighting platforms. Hopefully

As Acadian observed, Monty Roberts could not done a better job of horse whispering to get their trusty four-legged friends onboard the ship.

And a legged Akaviri sailor? Perhaps this is an ancestor of Talun-Lei's? Plus an intriguing Altmer captain. Hopefully they will not have to test his caravel's sea-worthiness on the trip around High Rock and down to Anvil.

Egad, I enjoyed Chapter 26 immensely when you posted it but never returned to say so. The perils of reading on a mobile device.

What a shock under the clear blue sky to receive a summons to Cyrodiil City. I look forward to Lady Cora’s meeting with Cuhlecain.

The ship talk is as captivating as the horse talk, and this chapter had both! I enjoyed the multicultural flavor in Chapter 27.

@Acadian: Horse Whisperer indeed! And not just horses, either. It's one of Lady Cora's lesser known talents. Makes sense, when you think about how she can get grown men to do things her way, too. As for her loss of contact, we will soon see how that goes.

@SubRosa: The cogs were the standard Hanseatic ships, so they must have some value. I learned that they are best in coastal waters, as they do not weather storms at sea so well. Lady Cora will get more lessons in cogs vs. caravels. I thought I would go back to the twelfth and thirteenth century for inspiration for this story, as Julian has galleons in hers, and those are the logical evolution from the caravels. Portugese sailing history is fascinating!

@Grits: I hear you about reading on a mobile device! I get emails when Jerric's Story updates, and some times I forget to log in and post a reply! I'm glad you enjoyed the multicultural flavor in Chapter 37. There will be more coming as we head to Cyrodiil City.

The story so far: Lady Cora, her maid Morna, and her escort Lieutenant Titus Alorius have just boarded the good ship Arpenmalatu. Captain Solinar is kind enough to provide Lady Cora and Morna with a little orientation session.

*********************
Chapter Thirty-eight

We followed Captain Solinar as he strode up the narrow ramp. With a light leap onto the deck, he turned and held his hand out to me. “Welcome aboard the Arpenmalatu, madam.” I looked down to see a short flight of steps from the ramp resting atop the ship’s rail to the deck. The soft rocking of the vessel inspired gratitude for the Altmer’s courtesy as I navigated my way onto Arpenmalatu with his assistance.

With both my feet as solidly on the deck as its mild swaying would allow, I studied the caravel from this new perspective. The bow rose gently to the left, where three Khajiiti clambered swiftly over ropes and up the forward mast itself. The center mast rose from the deck directly before us, shrouded in spiderwebs of twisted hemp. A similar, smaller mast rose from the raised structure at the stern.

Two doors squatted at the base of short flights of steps beneath the stern structure, recessed below the deck. Between them lay a triad of barrels lashed to the deck, a tap inserted into the topmost container. Above them, on the stern deck, I could make out the ship’s wheel behind a brass structure. Elsewhere along the deck rested piles of coiled rope and tied-down crates.

A broad-shouldered Redguard, brown linens barely darker than his skin, approached us. He silently offered Morna the same courtesy Captain Solinar had given me. Clearly intimidated by his impassive appearance, Morna glanced at me uncertainly, perched at the top of the ramp. Behind her, Lieutenant Alorius leaned to her ear and whispered softly. After a moment, Morna accepted the man’s assistance and followed me to the deck.

“This is my first mate,” Captain Solinar gestured toward the Redguard. “He goes by the name Karim, though the crew call him Basim.”

I met the first mate’s gaze. “Basim?” I repeated. “Why?”

“Basim is Yokudan for ‘smiling,’ madam,” Karim tipped his head to me in a dignified nod. I studied his impassive expression, those amazingly black eyes, the close-cropped black wool that covered his skull, and the grim set to his generous lips.

“Smiling, sir?” I tilted my head to one side. “I take it you never do?”

The slightest flicker passed through the midnight gaze, but his lips did not lighten. “Correct, madam. If you will excuse me,” he turned to the Captain.

As he gave a terse report on the ship’s status, I glanced at Morna to see her studying her hand, the one she had surrendered to Karim’s steadying clasp. She became aware of my regard and met my eyes with a flush to her cheeks, wiping her palm on her skirts.

I waved the taller woman closer and stretched to her left ear. “We will be encountering many s- strange folk on this journey,” I whispered so only she heard. “Accept them as equals to yourself, no more and no less.”

Her face when I set my heels back on the deck held doubt, but she met my gaze and nodded her understanding. I turned back in time to see Captain Solinar and Karim regarding me curiously.

“It is our first time traveling by sea, Captain,” I spoke first. “Perhaps you would be so kind to explain to us how things work aboard Arpenmalatu, how we should behave, and what we should expect of the voyage ahead of us.” I waved my hand expressively at the bustling crew. “The last thing we would like is to get in the way of your crew and be knocked overboard.” I heard Morna’s sharp inhalation behind me and stifled my smile at her unease. I’m even less comfortable than she is!

Already my stomach began complaining at the unaccustomed movement of the vessel. Repeated attempts to convince myself that it was just like riding a horse had little positive effect. If I can keep myself distracted, this voyage could be more tolerable. I dug my bare toes into the rough deck boards, seeking after any of Nirn’s strength that remained within the creosote-soaked wood. It would take too long to travel by land, especially through An Sloc and the Reaches. Hammerfell is not our friend. And I don’t care to return to my birthland - no friends remain there.

Little of Nirn’s strength reached me through the deck boards. Titus’s gaze met mine steadily as I swallowed against the incipient nausea. During the five days of traveling to reach Wayrest, we had spoken often of the possible effects of sea-traveling I might experience.

“Seasickness is quite common, at least until you get used to the motion of the ship.” Titus remarked as Inferno tossed his head against the reins. Beneath me, Rosehill paced sedately along, one ear flicking a warning to behave toward her offspring. “Some liken it to riding a rambunctious horse, much like this one!” Affectionately Titus slapped Inferno’s arched crest and smoothed the stallion’s mane down. The big horse dropped his head and slid a sidelong glance at me.

“But even a rambunctious horse keeps his feet on the ground, at least half the time!” I exclaimed. “And while I may be r-removed from Nirn on horseback, the horse gives me enough of her own magicka to sustain my strength for a little while.”

Titus’s face grew serious. “Lady Cora, what are the symptoms of your illness? What do you experience if you are severed from Nirn for too long? And how long is too long?”

I thought back to those days when I tried to fit in with the ladyfolk at Cardonaccum. Those nightmares every night. Gods, not now! “Weakness, malaise at first,” I said finally. “Loss of appetite, followed by lung chills and c- coughing. Weight loss.” I lifted my gaze to the sun, already low in the southwest. “It took about a sevenday to feel the first effects.”

“Healing potions didn’t help?” Titus asked. I shook my head. “What about healing spells? The captain of our ship is skilled in restoration - that’s why his crew is so loyal to him.”

“Any magicka conferred upon me tends to pass through to the ground,” I answered. “On board a ship? I have no idea. Only that it’s not likely to work as intended. I have a very strong inimical r- reaction to magicka in any form.” Any form? What was it that passed between General Talos and me last spring, if not some kind of magicka?

“Thank you for the information, Lady Cora,” Titus brought my attention back to the present. “If it is all right with you, I’ll keep an eye on your health. If you take a turn for the worse, I’ll ask the captain to run us ashore so you can recuperate.”

“But it may cost us time,” I protested. “Best to bear the burden for the short time it will take us to reach Anvil.”

“But if you are seasick as well,” Titus would not give up. “Wouldn’t that lower your tolerance to being severed from Nirn?”

I shrugged. “We will have to see.”

“. . . I will do everything I can to ensure a comfortable voyage for you, madam.” Captain Solinar’s voice grounded me in the present. “First, your quarters for the voyage,” he led me to the short flight of steps leading down to the right-hand door beneath the sterncastle. He ducked through it with practiced ease. “Watch your heads, guests,” he added. The warning was needed, for even Morna had to lower her head to enter.

We found ourselves in a narrow room that took up about half the space beneath the raised stern deck. A cot and a slightly larger bed stood against the slightly curved right wall, nestled between sturdy beams that rose up from the floor and disappeared through the low ceiling above. That’s the hull. No wonder it’s curved like that. Lanterns filled with argent fire swung from beams nearly as massive as the hull’s. Footsteps moved overhead at irregular intervals. Now that we were inside, out of the wind, I could hear creaking as the ship rocked gently at its moorings.

Morna glanced sidelong at me and placed a hand on one of the hull beams to steady herself. “Our trunks are here already, milady,” she pointed at the two containers, neatly placed between the two beds. I nodded at her and moved after the Captain toward the rear of the room. Narrow panes placed near the ceiling in the back wall - stern wall - let in some measure of daylight through translucent glass. A small desk stood beneath the windows, its lid closed. The left hand wall consisted of smooth boards butted up against a wide, rounded central beam that ran through the floor and the ceiling. Its lighter wood contrasted with the darker tones of the rest of the room. I stepped forward and touched the rough-shaped surface with my fingertips. Nirn’s strength, though diminished, thrummed softly into my blood. Something in my belly eased slightly, and I barely stifled a sigh of relief.

“That’s our stern mast,” Captain Solinar had noticed my interest. “We just replaced it after the old one was broken in the last storm. That’s why it’s lighter colored.”

And why I can still feel Nirn. How long will it last? I kept my thoughts to myself and eyed the cabin again. “These are your quarters, Captain?” I met the Altmer’s gaze.

He considered me thoughtfully. “Yes, madam, when we have no passengers.”

“This is only half the space beneath that -” I pointed at the ceiling with an unspoken question.

“Poop deck, madam,” Captain Solinar responded. I bit my twitching lips and turned my pointing finger at the wall bracketing the stern mast. “On the other side is the compass room, where we meet to plan the day’s sailing.” He nodded at Titus. “Myself and Lieutenant Alorius will be sleeping there.”

“Then where will you and your -” I paused until the appropriate term came to mind, “- ship’s officers meet?”

Titus stepped forward. “The same as always, Lady Cora,” he responded. “It is just like sleeping in the barracks - grab what sleep we can when it’s quiet.”

I regarded the two men, then turned back to Morna where she stood anxiously between the two beds. “I hate the thought of turning you out of your own bed, Captain,” I paused. But where on this ship is room for a passenger cabin? It is designed for cargo, not for passengers. If I don’t accept this cabin, who else will have to give up his bunk? Somehow the thought of turning the saturnine first mate out of his space did not appeal to me.

“The only other bunks are below,” Captain Solinar apparently read my thoughts. “All the men share the same space, and there would be no privacy for women such as yourselves, madam.” Morna squeaked at his words, her eyes wide.

I sighed. “Very well, Captain. I regret doing this to you, sir . . .”

“General Talos made the arrangements before he sailed ahead,” Captain Solinar assured me. “Believe me, if better were available, he would have chosen otherwise.”

Love the Khajiit putting their natural talents to use climbing the ropes! And welcome Mr. Smiles. I was wondering when a Redguard would put in an appearance, given their race's fame as sailors.

Now Cora will have to face nearly a week without touching the ground. Hopefully that brand new mast will give her just enough happy earth juice to keep her going.

As I expected, Cora and Morna will be sleeping in the Captain's quarters. It is a good thing they have a gentlemanly captain like Horatio Hornblower Solinar.

Morna, we’re not in Kardinansas anymore! The Altmeri captain, clambering Khajiit and smiling Redguard impart more exotic flavor than Morna is likely used to. Nice job showing this.

Ah, I see Lady Cora and her Lieutenant have pondered the same concerns I had regarding severing her ties to Nirn. I love the amelioration so creatively supplied by the new stern mast.

Yes, quartering lady passengers on cargo or warships has often proved challenging. Morna made a nice ‘girly’ contrasting backdrop to Cora’s more polished and practical perspective.

Overall, this voyage is shaping up to be a joy to read!

Karim’s nickname made me grin, and of course the nimble Khajiit were a delight.

I enjoyed every step of this introduction to the sea voyage. Titus fascinates, as always. I loved how the flashback answered my questions within the same episode. Throughout the week I look forward to this story very much!

@SubRosa: Of course I had to introduce a Redguard in this story! And as first mate, no less! I figured the Khajiiti are naturals for the above deck work, just as Argonians are invaluable for anything below the waterline, such as plugging leaks! I didn't have Horatio Hornblower in mind as I wrote Captain Solinar, but rather Captain Pellew. Easily one of my favorite characters from this series, because Robert Lindsay is that good. Doesn't hurt that he has the kind of craggy good looks I'm such a sucker for.

@Acadian: I hope this voyage continues to be a joy to read. I had a blast researching 12th and 13th century sailing ships (and a little bit later, too), and have so many more questions left to ask. But I am enjoying sharing what I have learned in such an entertaining manner. One of my favorite memories of my visit to Baltimore nearly 20 years ago was my venture out on a Tall Ship from the Inner Harbor, and my tour of the USS Constellation (scroll down to the part about the Second Constellation) being restored there. Both are much bigger and considerably more advanced than the cogs and caravels in this story, yet the experiences I had on these two ships were invaluable in writing these segments.

@Grits: I couldn't resist the little play on names for our Smiling Charlie. He comes off as so forbidding, I wanted to lighten the mood a little bit and show his fun side (yes, Karim has a fun side!).

The story so far: Lady Cora, Lieutenant Titus and Morna have embarked onto the Arpenmalatu, and have received their initial orientation. Their sailing education continues . . .

*****************
Chapter Thirty-nine

A cold breeze chased the Arpenmalatu out of Wayrest Harbor and down Iliac Bay. It came from behind our right shoulders, over the Ilessan Hills to the west. Morna shivered in the chill, even wrapped in our woolen winter cloaks. She spent as much time as possible in our room. As my seasickness worsened with the rough waves, I was initially grateful for her company, then resentful of her diligent performance of her duties.

“Madam,” Captain Solinar came in with breakfast on the second morning. “I am given to understand that you have eaten nothing since we left port?”

I struggled to sit up in the bed. “No, good C- Captain.” A wave of nausea surged into my throat as the savory scents of smoked boar and cooked eggs drifted up my nostrils. I pressed the back of my left hand against my face to block the odors as well as hold back the bile.

Captain Solinar set the tray on the desk. “Then allow me to help you,” he moved to sit beside my bed. “Do not think me forward, madam,” he laid his hand on my right wrist. “I have strong Restoration skills -“ Before Morna and I could stop him he sent a wave of white magic surging into my limb.

Instead of sending healing ease through me, the magicka only coiled within my body and turned cold and leaden in my stomach. My skin turned clammy as I writhed in acute discomfort. I managed to twist away from the Captain before gagging black fluid over the far side of the bed.

“Captain!” I heard Morna’s panicked tone as she reached for me. “Milady’s not tolerant of magicka!”

“Really?” Captain Solinar’s tone turned curious, but he touched me again. This time the residual energy that coiled within me dissipated as if sucked out through a hollow reed. I collapsed back on the mattress, gasping in fresh air. “I apologize, madam,” the contriteness in his voice felt real enough. “I hope it will pass.”

“It already is,” I answered, turning my blurred gaze on him as nausea made a victorious return. “But th- the seasickness persists.”

“What can I do to help, madam?” Solinar’s brown gaze held only concern, the same concern Siné showed her patients. “Would a healing potion help?”

I shook my head. “They only affect my t- taste buds, Captain.” Again I tried to sit up against my rebellious stomach. “Only contact with Nirn helps.”

Captain Solinar’s eyes slid to the newly installed mast that bisected the dividing wall between the stern cabins. “Is that why you were so interested in the color of that mast?” he asked. “Because it still holds something of Nirn?” He turned back to me. “If you are seasick, we must apply a different method of treating it. It manifests itself worst in the stern, belowdecks.” His gaze drifted around the small cabin. “As right here.”

“Then what d- do you recommend, Captain?” I asked.

“If you were to draw Nirn’s energy out of that mast,” Captain Solinar nodded toward the wall, “would it weaken the timber?”

I shook my head. “No, it only makes it more inert.” A study of the round wooden structural element helped me understand his concern. “I doubt it will break in a st- storm any more than the other two masts.”

Captain Solinar rose to his feet and held his hand out to me. “Then rise, madam, and take some of Nirn’s energy from the timbers of the Arpenmalatu.” He smiled encouragement at me. “Then we will proceed to the one spot on this ship where the sea will affect you the least.”

Though the ship’s heaving threatened my balance, I managed to swing my feet onto the floor and stand with the Captain’s assistance. Morna came to my side and draped my black cloak over my shoulders. Like a gallant courtier in the King’s palace, the Altmer offered me his forearm for the few steps to the mast.

Beneath my palm, the round timber creaked with the movement of the ship. I could feel both the quiet pulse of Nirn still beating within the wood, and the wind pushing on its sails high above us. My whirling stomach settled slightly, and I took a deep breath.

“Better, madam?” Captain Solinar asked, his eyes on me holding calm curiosity. I nodded silently. “Then let’s step outside, shall we?” He waved his free hand toward the door. I hesitated, glancing doubtfully at him. “General Talos is one of my best customers,” the Altmer seemed to read my unvoiced qualms, “and I would not do anything to betray his trust in me.”

Is he referring to the same kind of trust Lieutenant Titus has in General Talos? Or more the kind of trust between a common merchant and his customers—that the service provided will match the value of the coin given? I kept my thoughts silent and nodded for the Altmer to lead me outside. Morna followed behind me, quiet despair at facing the cold outside emanating off of her in palpable waves.

The wind took my breath away as we stepped onto the deck. Morna muttered a barely audible feminine invective and drew her cloak closer about her tall frame. The wooden boards beneath my bare feet creaked and heaved, while the immense sails above our heads snapped vigorously.

“Is there a s- spot on this ship where seasickness doesn’t rule?” I exclaimed softly as I held back another wave of nausea.

“This way, madam,” Captain Solinar led me midships. To my amazement, as we neared the center mast, the rocking of the deck beneath my feet subsided to a barely noticeable roll. Lieutenant Alorius turned from a murmured interaction with one of the Khajiiti crew. His sharp military appearance made me self-conscious of my own disheveled appearance.

“Good morning, madam,” Titus greeted me, waving me to sit on a crate. “Are you feeling better?”

“Not yet,” I answered. I lifted my eyes to Morna, who huddled miserably in her cloak. “C- Come, sit next to me,” I addressed my hapless maid as I made room for her. “How d- do you fight this evil affliction?” I turned back to Titus.

“The same thing you are doing,” he answered with a smile. “Don’t ask me how it works, he’s the expert,” he nodded at Captain Solinar.

“This is the one place on the ship where the pitch, roll and yaw of this ship is minimal,” the Altmer adopted a lecturing pose. Somehow I caught a whiff of self-deprecation in his tone. “Pitch is the movement about the ship’s center of gravity whence the bow,” he pointed at the forward part of the deck, “moves up and down like so.” I followed the direction of his finger in time to see the fore keel rise above the horizon. “The stern moves in the opposite direction of the bow,” Captain Solinar continued, extending his other arm in the opposite direction. As he held them out stiffly, the right arm pointing fore, and the left one aft, he demonstrated the up-and-down movement of the ship’s deck. “If you look at my shoulders, which are near the center, you’ll see that the up and down motion is minimal, compared to those of my hands.” He rocked his arms in demonstration, echoing the motion of the deck.

Morna listened in concentration, then lifted a hesitant hand. “And we are sitting where your head is, sir?”

Captain Solinar’s arms lowered involuntarily as he chuckled. “Yes, that is correct, young maid,” he smiled at us. His gaze shifted to me, and I nodded my comprehension.

“But good Captain,” I added, “the deck does not move only in the direction you showed us.”

“Yes, exactly!” Solinar snapped his elegant fingers. “There are two other directions this ship moves in as well.” Now he turned to face the bow and snapped his arms out to encompass the left and right rails of the deck. “This side-to-side motion is called the roll and is more pronounced when the wind blows to port or starboard.”

“Port and star-?” Morna repeated.

In response, Solinar lowered his right arm and pointed to the left rail. “This is the port side, to your left as you face the bow.” Now his arms traded positions. “And this is starboard.”

Morna twisted on the crate to face aft. “But now this is port?” She pointed to her left.

Captain Solinar shook his head. “That is still starboard, and this side is still port.”

I leaned to Morna. “It’s like the near and off side of a horse,” I murmured. “Doesn’t change if you ride facing the horse’s head or its tail.”

She leaned her head back in comprehension. “Of course!” she exclaimed.

I turned back to the patient Altmer, waiting with interest. “Please continue, good Captain.”

“And the last one,” Captain Solinar pointed at the mast behind us. “The boat also rotates around its central axis, as if it is spinning around this mast.”

Another wave of nausea reared its ugly head. I lifted a hand. “Um, good Captain, please don’t use that word.”

“What word?” Solinar frowned at me.

“I believe she means ‘spinning,’” Titus volunteered. “Was a time when just the thought of a spin would make me — ahem, well, you know.”

“Ah, I see,” Captain Solinar nodded. “Forgive me, madam,” he smiled down at us. Somehow, in spite of his great height, he lacked the air of condescension so often common to Altmeri. Rather, his expression held nothing but friendly humor. “I have not suffered this affliction for so long I have quite forgotten how pervasive it can be.”

A shout interrupted our lesson in fighting seasickness. Captain Solinar turned as one of the Khajiiti ran up to him and hissed something. I felt a faint sense of alarm, quite different from the nausea which had been plaguing me, but Captain Solinar’s demeanor remained calm. “Excuse me, ladies, Lieutenant,” his tone held only reassurance. “I must attend to our compass.” His gaze on me sharpened. “Ah, madam, I see that you are already feeling better!” His smile widened at the surprise I felt.

He is right! That horrid nausea is gone! I had been so engrossed in his explanation for the causes of seasickness that I had not noticed the subsidence of its signs.

“I have to agree with the Captain,” Karim’s voice reached us as he paused beside our seats. “You do look better, madam.” His expression remained inscrutable, however. “But he forgot to mention one more important thing.”

“What did he forget?” I asked. Karim waved his hand at the sea around us.

“Always keep your eyes on the horizon!” He pointed at the deck moving beneath us. “It is the only thing that does not move.” Then he was gone in the Captain’s wake.

“He’s got a point, you know,” Lieutenant Alorius spoke as I gazed after the first mate. “Somehow your eyes tell your body that that,” he pointed at the sea, “is not moving, and that settles the vertigo.” He smiled at us. “Once that happens, it’s just a matter of riding this ship much as one would ride a horse.”

I sighed. When one first learns to ride a horse, it is difficult and scary at first, especially when one does not know how the horse is going to move or react. I could remember my first few times on a horse, how far away the ground seemed then.

“How long does it take to learn to ride this caravel the way one rides a horse, then?” I met Titus’s gaze. His blue eyes sparked at my question.

“Some people learn very quickly, such as our good Captain, and Morna here,” he nodded at her. My maid glanced at him in some surprise, then flushed as she turned her head away. “Others take longer, Lady.”

Like me, I pouted to myself. “And you, Lieutenant? How long does it take you?”

“Somewhere in the middle,” Titus smiled at my frustration. “But I assure you, it lasts shorter and shorter each time you go out.” His eyes grew distant. “When we first came to High Rock, it took me a week!” A shrug of his broad shoulders dispelled that memory. “But now it just takes me a little more than a day.”

“That’s encouraging,” I could hear nothing close to that sentiment in my own voice.

Argh! Too bad that Nirn-fresh mast and Cora's quarters were not in the center of the ship! Despite Cora’s discomfort, this was a delightful episode. The well-intentioned healing spell from the captain showed us some of the effects of magicka on Cora - as well as the protectiveness of Morna. Happily, she was able to pull some residual ‘Nirn’ from the mast.

The lessen up near the center of the ship’s main deck was fun as well, with the captain’s animated hand demonstrations of pitch, roll and yaw. Captain Solinar seems quite a quality fellow.

Something tells me, though, that Cora is probably not cut out for a life at sea. She should definitely not give up her day job as Lord of Cardonaccum!

He is right! That horrid nausea is gone! I had been so engrossed in his explanation for the causes of seasickness that I had not noticed the subsidence of its signs.

That rings true! Nothing helps sea-sickness more than taking your mind off it.

I'm a bit surprised that Cora doesn't carry something with her to act like the new mast, but perhaps it would necessarily be too large to transport, if it's to be effective.

You've now got me googling to try and find out if we're equally sensitive to motion sickness in all three axes. Ship travel gives you more pitch than the others, car travel more yaw, and I'd suspect air travel is more roll. Anybody know?

Hee! Perhaps Cora needs to carry a potted Nirnroot for sea travel!

Any of the three axis can be disconcerting at the extreme ends (such as spinning yaw or inverted roll). I always found a reasonable rate of roll not unpleasant (even nice for sleeping). If in the stern (or especially the bow) during heavy seas on a large ship, pitch can be eerily powerful. When a battleship takes blue water over the bow, the vertical changes can be large and exert quite an unsettling degree of G-force as the body cycles from feeling very light to very heavy. I always found that to be the most potentially troublesome regarding seasickness. In an aircraft, this would be somewhat analogous to the pilot sharply pulling up, inducing G's or (even worse) sharply nosing over and the attendant negative G's. In most cases of sea and air travel, I expect the combination of pitch and roll works against its victims as well. My two septims anyway.

Oh, and I forgot to mention how much I enjoyed how readily Cora related to the horse analogies. Brilliant touch by Rider.

Robert Lindsay was fantastic as Captain Pellew! He was one of the high points of that series. I loved Jamie Bamber in it too. It is a rare treat of his pre-Galactica days.

“I am given to understand that you have eaten nothing since we left port?”
I guess there is no point, since she is just going to give it right to the fish anyway! Poor Cora, she may be at home on the earth mother's solid ground, but clearly not on the sea mother's turbulent waves!

I liked Cora's musings on Captain Pellew Solinar's loyalty to Talos, and what form it might take? Also wonderful was the good captain's explanation of the forces of pitch, yaw, and roll, and his helpful remedy. I agree with our Marine (ret) that Cora ought to take a nirnroot with her the next time. But maybe a greenhouse full of them instead of only one...

Captain Solinar’s discussion of pitch, roll, and yaw had me green around the gills. My sympathy to Lady Cora. Morna made me smile with her feminine invective and hesitant question.

I hope there’s enough Nirn left in the mast to get Lady Cora all the way to shore. She’ll arrive in poor shape if this continues!

@Acadian: No, Lady Cora will never take to the high seas, unlike some folks we know! Be assured that she is keeping her day job! I had to laugh at your suggestion of a potted Nirnroot, but I'm not sure that would be so helpful!

@ghastley: I'd trust Acadian's experience in pitch, roll and yaw. Mine are pretty much limited to riverboats, horses and automobiles. Though I've flown a few times, and have experienced turbulence, I think it was much like being on a roller coaster, and not on a ship in rough seas. Ain't it the truth, keeping the mind busy takes it off your troubles!

@SubRosa: Yes, there was no point eating when the stomach is so topsy-turvy! Why feed the fish? And where would Lady Cora fit a greenhouse of Nirnroot??

@Grits: I'm glad everyone enjoyed Captain Solinar's lesson in the motion of moving bodies! Though I am quite sorry you had such a colorful reaction to it. I really rather like Morna. She's provincial, inexperienced in the ways of the world (though not necessarily in the ways of men), and yet she is a wonderful maid to have with you on an adventure!

The story so far: Lady Cora and maid Morna received a lesson in combating seasickness as well as one in roll, pitch and yaw. Of course Karim/Basim had the last word! Now we progress a little bit further on our sea journey.

************************
Chapter Forty

On the third day I stood at the mid-deck rail with Lieutenant Titus as we watched the last hills sheltering Iliac Bay fall behind us. The seasickness I experienced had subsided considerably yesterday, to the point that I felt like eating some porridge by sundown. However, after a night in the small cabin, the queasiness had returned. Still, it was not as strong as before, and I began to appreciate Titus’s meaning.

The sails of the accompanying cogs, carrying the horses of the Legion, shone in the faint winter sun as they turned away from us to follow the coastline eastward. I glanced at Titus. “Are the horse transports not h- headed the same way as us?”

“No,” Titus shook his head. “The cogs are not as seaworthy as this caravel. When storms blow up, they need to head to shore to ride it out.”

“Also,” Karim’s voice reached us as he joined us at the rail, “they need to resupply water. It is impossible to carry enough water for the horses for more than two or three days.”

I glanced at the tall Redguard. He never smiles, yet he is always ready with timely information. There is more going on beneath that mask than anyone can begin to suspect. “So where will they stop?”

“Probably Helgathe and Rihad,” Karim’s eyes remained on the disappearing sails. I considered his answer. Both are Hammerfell ports. Does he come from one of them? Does he wish we followed the same path as those cogs? “They’ll likely arrive in Anvil two or three days behind us, Tava permitting.”

“Tava?” I repeated the unfamiliar word.

“The Bird Goddess,” Karim turned to face us. “She brings the wind that drives our sails.” His dark eyes glinted. “Only the Ra Gada worship her.” He bowed slightly to us. “Excuse me, I must return to my duties.”

As he disappeared through the deck hatch, I turned back to Titus. “Ra Gada?”

“What the Redguards call themselves,” he explained. “They have a unique culture, and quite the interesting history.” He tipped his head in the direction of the deck hatch. “You should ask him about it.”

“And get two or th- three breaths of information from him?” I raised my brows at him. “I prefer to learn in more sizable chunks, thank you.”

“He is a busy man, Lady Cora,” Titus’s brows matched the height of mine. “Second only to our Captain, and likely the busier of the two.”

My lips quirked upward at the thought of our own second-in-commands. “Isn’t that always the c- case, Lieutenant?” Titus’s chuckle was reward enough.

“Herre, ma’am,” the soft purring of one of the Khajiit at my shoulder reminded me once more of Do’saka. I turned to see the feline hands holding a covered mug toward me, steam rising from its small sipping hole. “Some warm tea to settle your stomach.” His strong teeth, yellowed with age, glimmered in a grin. “Naught magical about it.”

I cupped my hands around the heavy pottery vessel and sipped at it tentatively. My stomach did not protest, and I drank a little more. “Thank you,” I paused, trying to remember the cook’s name. “Dro’taba?”

The Khajiit nodded in vigorous pleasure. “Yes, this one is Drro’taba.” He ducked his head at Titus before moving with that typical Khajiit spring belowdecks.

As I watched his tail disappear through the hatch, I mused at the quality of the ship’s cooking. “I’m surprised the Khajiit can c- cook so well.”

“Why not?” Titus asked me. “They have a most excellent cuisine in Elseweyr. Both sweet and salty at the same time, yet savory beyond belief.”

“So I’ve discovered,” I muttered. Indeed, Dro’taba’s cooking would put Machara’s best to shame. New flavors and unfamiliar aromas met us at each meal, yet both Morna and I found ourselves enjoying the strange dishes. When we’re not beset by seasickness, that is!

“For some reason,” Morna volunteered hesitantly, “his food helps with the upset stomach!”

I had to agree. But something else was beginning to disturb my peace. That unsettling nightmare had broken my sleep two nights in a row for the first time since the signing of the treaty with General Talos. I had grown accustomed to its infrequency over the past year. But now, after the second restless night, I began to wonder if my malady was beginning to assert itself earlier than expected.

As the day wore on, my worry and trepidation increased. Though I tried to participate in the conversation with Titus, Morna and Captain Solinar, my thoughts kept returning to that frightening place of my nightmares. General Talos is chasing me through a place that is not of Nirn. What does that mean? Why do I fear him so? And that kiss last spring! How does that fit in with that frightening figure chasing me? Does he seek my submission? Does he seek to subdue me? By chasing me through these haunted ruins? Or through the force of physical attraction? Somehow the typical seduction dance did not seem to fit what I had seen of General Talos.

After a day of brisk wind and fast sailing under clear skies, I braved the pitching of the ship to join Captain Solinar on the poop deck as the sun dropped into the ocean beyond his right shoulder. He smiled as I climbed the steps, blue smoke streaming ahead from his pipe.

“Welcome, madam,” he greeted me, one hand lifting from the steering wheel to remove the pipe from his lips. “I am glad to see your seasickness subsiding so well.”

“It gets easier each day,” I had to admit. My eyes moved toward the ruby globe hovering over the edge of the water. “I never realized how beautiful the sunset can be on the water.”

“Today was a fair day,” Captain Solinar agreed. “But tomorrow may not be such a good day for landlubbers.”

“What makes you say that, Captain?” I glanced around at the clear sky.

“Experience,” the tall Altmer winked down at me. “Behind me, the sky is bright, not red. And ahead,” he waved eastward, “there is a faint smudge on the horizon that suggests a storm, or worse, a squall.”

“What is the difference between a squall and a storm?” I peered at the sky, but couldn’t detect the subtle change he had indicated.

“A squall is pretty much a smaller, more ferocious version of a storm,” Captain Solinar’s tone turned serious. “It blows up very quickly, with little warning, and has high, gusty winds. If it comes from the wrong quarter, it can easily capsize a ship.”

I glanced up at him in alarm. “Capsize us?”

“The Arpenmalatu is a very stable ship in a storm,” Solinar pointed his pipe at the sails above us. “Its hull is large relative to the size of those sails,” he continued. “That means she is more likely to right herself if she is tipped to one side or the other. The horse transports, on the other hand . . .” his voice trailed off.

“The cogs?” I turned my gaze to the triangular sails above us and recalled the broad, square sails of the fat-hulled ships that had left us this morning. “Is that why they follow the coast? To run ashore at the sign of a storm?”

“That is correct,” Captain Solinar nodded. “We, on the other hand, can run before the wind if we must.” He gestured toward the windlass behind us. “Or we can drop the storm anchors and ride it out, if the wind is from the wrong quarter. Of course,” again he nodded up at the sails, “we would reef our canvas if we do.”

“That would keep the ship from capsizing, then?” I met Captain Solinar’s gaze. Would he assure me that no harm would come to us? Or would he tell me the plain truth? That sailing is fraught with danger, and we are all truly at the mercy of Tava, or Kyne?

“I won’t lie to you, madam,” Solinar’s gaze held mine steadily. “Your intelligence would be insulted by false reassurances. Reefing the sails would greatly decrease the risk of capsizing, but it can still happen.”

“I wouldn’t tell Morna that!” I exclaimed softly. “But how can we best prepare for rough weather?”

“Make sure everything in your cabin is secured or tied down,” Captain Solinar responded. “Be sure to keep the lids on your chamberpots latched when you are not using them.” I flinched at the mental image of our bodily wastes flying around the small space below. “And if you find that the pitching is too much to bear, go down one deck to the mid-deck. The trapdoor is just inside the cabin door, in the corner. Go forward from there and hold on to the main mast.”

“Should we tie ourselves to it?” I wondered, but Captain Solinar shook his head vigorously.

“No, madam. If the ship should start taking on water, or Gods forbid, capsize, we need to be able to get you ladies out as quickly as possible.”

I turned back to the eastern sky. “I’m quite familiar with the weather patterns on the moors, Captain,” I mused softly. “But if we’re west of that,” I waved my hand at the smudge I still couldn’t see, “and the wind is behind us, won’t that weather stay ahead of us?”

“That’s assuming that’s a westerly storm,” Captain Solinar replied. “But I’ve been watching it, and it’s new in the past quarter bell. Either it’s an easterly, or it’s blowing from north or south. We’ll know if we get closer to it.”

“If it’s an easterly,” I glanced at the Altmer, “we can have a rather abrupt change in the wind at the sails?”

“Typically the wind drops right before it changes,” he shrugged. “My crew will reef the sails if that happens. Until we know for sure which way that storm’s blowing, we will assume the worst of it.”

“Prepare for the worst and hope for the best, is that it?” I asked. He smiled and nodded.

Nice touches, referencing the Ra Gada and Tava. They reinforce the mystery of Smiley the Redguard.

‘As I watched his tail disappear through the hatch,’ - - Wonderfully phrased and I love the image this evokes.

Nice to see Lady Cora earning her sea legs and regaining some appetite.

Between Talosian dreams and the hint of clouds off the bow, it seems there may be storms on the horizon.

I notice that Alorius got a promotion from Lieutenant Alorius to Lt. Titus... Cora is getting more accustomed to him being around, and I think considering him a friend as well as an ally?

Nice inclusion of Tava, and her veneration by Redguard sailors.

And not so nice is the return of Cora's Talosian dreams. Though I suspect they are a going to be a central piece to the story. Or at least that they point to the central matter of the story: Cora and Talos.

I liked Captain Pellew Solinar's description/warning of the upcoming squall.

“Be sure to keep the lids on your chamberpots latched when you are not using them.”
I suspect this was the most important piece of advice he imparted!

The exchanges between Lady Cora and Titus as she now consistently thinks of him are always a delight. I enjoyed their eyebrow dance.

Ugh, chamberpots in a storm. Not to mention the sick bucket. I think I’d rather travel with the horses!

I love the details of yellowed Khajiit teeth and the tail disappearing after the rest of him.

Chapter 1:

So, war is evident and winter is coming. The Game of Thorns begins.

I particularly liked the piece between Cora and Wallace, where instead of being a proper lady and reading up on romance and poetry, she instead chose warfare. Not all queens need to be proper all the time, after all.

I didn't know Sun Tsu was published in Tamriel, but there it is!

One bit of etymology I'd like to go over:

Milord and Milady are referred to as formal recognitions in the piece. In actuality, they are not formal. Milord/Milady were used most often by travellers referring to people like innkeepers or if a lower classman was trying to flatter someone of higher status than them. Not very noble.

The proper formal way of addressing a lord, lady, or knight in Middle English was "My lord" and "My lady." Since she was trying to be proper while addressing her husband, I just thought I'd point that out.

To put it another way: the courier addressing Cora was using them correctly, but Cora addressing Wallace (who I am assuming is a noble or knight) was not, and it stuck out a bit for me because she was trying to be correct and proper when addressing him.

@Acadian: I have so much fun with Karim. He is so taciturn, yet I know he has an amazing story to tell. Alas, this is not the place to hear it. But someday I would love to sit him down and have a chat over a couple kegs of ice-cold ale. Yes, I said kegs. It's that kind of story, you know?

@SubRosa: Whoops! My editorial apologies, that one got away! Lady Cora still regards him as Lieutenant Alorius, it is I who sees him as Lieutenant Titus! She is still very formal with him, for so many reasons. Thank you for calling my attention to my editorial error! Though she does think of him as Titus, since she is not a soldier to refer to those around her by their surnames, as does Julian.

@Grits: Eyebrow dance indeed! I love writing facial expressions maybe because I'm so attuned to them in my day to day conversation. I find that those little things give away more than what is said (or even the tone of voice, but that's just me being tone-deaf). I'm glad that such things in my writing enrich the conversations for you.

@TK: Welcome back to Chorrol! And welcome to Lady Cora's little tale! Well, it started out being a little tale, but I should have known that once I introduced a certain character it would take on its own telling. Believe me, I considered your criticism regarding my use of formal address in this story very seriously. If I had not already written so much of it during Nanowrimo '11, and more of it since, I would have made the changes as you suggested. However, I made the decision some time ago that I would use the formal address as a way to differentiate between different origins. In Cardonaccum "Milord/Milady" passes for formal address (you guess correctly, Lord Wallace is a minor noble), but that will change depending on from where the speaker originates. So I'll leave it for now with the gentle reminder that this is not Merrie Olde England.

The story so far: Captain Solinar has done his best to prepare his passengers for the possibility of storms. He even has provided hard-earned (and hard-learned, I'd say) advice on how to deal with the tossing and turning. Expect the worst and hope for the best, indeed! But has Captain Solinar expected the worst?

As an aside, Lady Cora would like to announce that her companion Muse Julian has a new story up on her LBMQ thread. Have fun reading!

*****************
Chapter Forty-one

The familiar dreaded arches drew me down the passageway deeper into the maze. My feet slipped on the slick patches, my toes sought the reassuring strength of Nirn in vain. Booted footfalls somewhere behind me thudded softly through the oppressive silence that pressed me toward the floor.

Nausea roiled within my belly, aggravated by the absence of Nirn. It added a new edge to the old panic I always experienced in this place. As I always did, I glanced back down the passageway toward the pursuer, dark except for the gleaming steel at his side. Then I flew headlong down the treacherous twisting stairway, its hard walls tossing me between them like a ship on a stormy sea.

Voices reached my ears, voices that were not part of the familiar nightmare. But I was not completely free of the terrible place in my mind. I grasped for something solid, something to anchor me in the present, something to bring me back to Nirn. But my fingers encountered only insubstantial sounds, incoherent words, and wildly flickering light. Then I fell away . . .

The clattering of the ancient mechanism alerted me to the blade trap. Somehow I managed to avoid being sliced by the first bronze pendulum. I waited in frantic impatience for the right time to run through the short corridor, part of my attention turned behind me. I managed to reach the far side of the trap just as the figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs. I did not watch him traverse the swinging blades, but pressed on into the darkness.

Once again I confronted the terrifying dilemma of three passageways. Left, right, or down the stairs? This time I did not hesitate but flung myself headlong down the worn stone steps, my hands skittering along the walls.

“Milady? Milady?” I seized desperately on the familiar voice, but the anxiety in her tone scared me back into that other world.

Once again I stood in that hateful passageway, staring at those blue-green crystals, my fingers and toes vainly seeking Nirn in the ancient stones around me. Once again the sound of those boots on the floor drove me along the corridor. Once again, panic, edged with nausea, wound my muscles tight and compressed my breathing.

Though I knew it was there, the blade trap still caught me by surprise, still made me gasp as it sliced the air just in front of my nose. And though I knew who pursued me, I wondered if that mysterious figure had become someone else. Somehow I didn’t want it to be General Talos chasing me. I turned back to see him navigate the blade trap with far more aplomb than I had ever mustered. Again his hood dropped back to reveal that same square-jawed face. My heart plummeted at the sight of the Colovian’s face.

Warm hands touched my face lightly, breaking the nightmare for a brief moment. “Lady?” This time the voice was male, but just as namelessly familiar. “Lady, are you still with us? Can you hear me?”

I tried to answer, but could only gasp for breath as the world tilted abruptly. The dark form hovering above me braced himself against the lurching in my belly and steadied my shoulder against the shifting beneath me. “Lady?” he asked again. “Lady, if you can get up, we can —“

I stood before the triple fork, bootsteps echoing behind me. Something pushed me forward, and I caught myself just in time, stumbling instead of falling down the descending stairs. This time I reached the bottom and found myself in a curving passage, where a blue-green glow pulled me onward. The quality of the silence changed from a dead oppression to an echoing threat. My own labored breathing deafened my ears.

I passed from blue-green light into darkness and back again as the passageway twisted and turned deeper into the depths. I still couldn't feel Nirn, no matter how much my flesh cried for its reassurance. No matter how quickly I fled through this foreboding structure, those footsteps remained a too-brief distance behind me. Though my heart screamed terror at my forward momentum, that figure drove me onward, deeper into the unknown that waited in the silence.

My body lurched against something solid, something that thrummed faintly beneath my fingers. I blinked into awareness of the wood pressed into my cheek, its creaking and groaning belying the storm that tossed us upon restless waves. Something warm braced me against the mast, and the anxious visage of my maid hovered in a blur, shifting between light and dark.

“If we can keep her against this long enough, maybe she —“ The voice faded with the ebbing of Nirn from the wood that propped my body against the rolling.

The narrow confines of the corridor ended abruptly in a dark void. I stumbled and fell to my hands and knees at the crumbling edge of stone. Beyond the silence filled an immense space bound only by blackness. Far away, at a much lower level than where I crouched, a brilliant, narrow crystal gleamed malevolently. I could not assess its scale, but something told me it was huge, compared to the other crystals I had seen so far.

Panting from exertion, I glanced around me for a way off this exposed place. The crumbling edge ran into darkness on either side of me, edging what seemed to be an exposed balcony running along the side of this chamber. I edged back until I felt the wall at my shoulder, then struggled shakily to my feet. Though I could see no distinguishing features in either direction, I decided to move to my left. My fingers always in contact with the moss-covered wall, I crept along in the echoing void.

Brilliant light flooded the darkness, and drove away the last vestiges of the nightmare. Still my senses were slow to take in my surroundings, as next I became aware of warmth on my skin, warmth from the brilliance above me and warmth from a shifting surface below my body. The silence of the ruin dissipated in the soft rumbling of water on sand. Voices around me murmured in concern.

Most importantly of all, Nirn embraced my body and soul in its strong assurance, easing away the last lingering traces of fear and panic that had marked eternity for me. My constricted breathing eased, and finally I could open my eyes.

“Milady!” Morna leaned over me, her face worn to the bone with anxiety. “You’re back!”

“Am I?” The words came out as a croak. I licked dry lips and lifted my left hand to her face. Sand, warmed by the sun above, trickled from my fingers as she caught them in her warm grip. “Where are we? What h- happened?”

“Lady,” Lieutenant Alorius’s voice reached me from beyond Morna’s crouching figure. He knelt next to her, a weary smile easing the last worry from his clear eyes. “There was a storm. Quite a bad one. You slept through much of it, but it wasn’t a —“ He paused.

“You weren’t sleeping,” Morna filled in. “You were lost somewhere else. It scared me that I couldn’t rouse you.” Her voice caught, and Morna’s hand flew to her mouth.

“She managed to find me,” Titus continued. “I thought the effects of the storm combined with your disconnect from Nirn caused your unnatural state. We decided to try and get you to the mast in the cabin. It seemed to help, but only for a moment or so.”

I took a deep breath. “I fear I have d- drained the last of Nirn’s strength from that mast,” I murmured. I peered past Titus’s shoulder at the deep blue sky. At the edges of my vision golden grasses stirred in a breeze.

“H- how long has it been?” I asked, still trying to orient myself.

“We have been five days out of Wayrest,” Captain Solinar’s voice reached me from the sea’s lapping edge. I turned my head to see his tall figure approach. He smiled down at me, the shadows across his face not quite hiding the concern still in his eyes. “I am glad to see you back to yourself, madam. It has been quite the ordeal for you.”

Suddenly I wanted to see where I lay, and struggled to sit up. My body, still too weak from my recent ordeal, would not obey my wishes.

However both Morna and Titus had divined my intent, and Morna slid her arm beneath my shoulders, while the lieutenant steadied me with his strong grip. After a brief moment of dizziness, I became coherent enough to look around.

To my left, past Captain Solinar’s lean form, the sea reflected blue as it surged onto the beach in an incessant rolling. Halfway to the horizon floated the graceful curves of Arpenmalatu. The narrow strip of white sand glowed brilliantly in the southern sun. The golden grass, taller than my shoulders, rippled in the salty breeze off the ocean. To my right, the grass disappeared into a tumble of boulders and craggy outcroppings, pines and cedars reaching skyward. Near the shore these trees were small, twisted and bent, but as my eyes traveled up the slopes, the trees grew taller until the ones near the top seemed to be holding up the sky.

Through their dark green boughs I could see white tumbled stones. Something about those stones stirred recent memories best left alone, and I shivered. They are too much like those in my dream. The same arches, the same color, the same texture. Can it be —? “Wh- where are we?” I asked.

Screenshot

“Captain Solinar has brought us ashore north of Anvil,” Lieutenant Alorius replied. He nodded up the slope at the ruins above us. “That’s Beldaburo, an old Ayleid ruin. We can shelter there overnight, then start south.”

“No.” The word was out of my mouth before I could bite it back. “No, I do not wish to g- go anywhere near that place.”

That was a brilliantly written nightmare - the worst one yet it seems, and so cleverly interspersed with Cora's semi-wakeful surroundings. I have no doubt the severity is directly related to the lack of solid Nirn under her feet. Not to mention the fact that her journey is taking her ever nearer to the bogeyman in her dreams.

I was wondering if there was some significance to the nightmare taking place in an subterranean warren of Ayleid construction. Now I see why. They are on the Gold Coast, in sight of Beldaburo.

I’m glad you have retained the etymological freedom that a non-earth world and history provides. I quite like (and share) your preference of choosing between My Lady and Milady to simply imply the desired level of formality between characters when one or both possess a degree of nobility. But then again, I like to go listen to Sir Mazoga to get a real feel for how nobles of Tamriel might talk.

Quite the continuing mystery!

I agree with SubRosa – that nightmare was wonderfully interwoven with the storm at sea.

From the fying pan into the fire comes to mind: Cora has made it ashore and the comfort of Nirn, only to be asked to leave that comfort again for the Nirnless stone of her nightmares. Hmm, I’ll wager she’ll be sleeping under the stars. . . .

Oh, and I love that you have woven in a piece of the 'familiar' by incorporating both the Gold Coast and Beldaburo.

That was an outstanding dream sequence. I love the way you wove moments of wakefulness throughout.

What a beautiful description of the Gold Coast with the ruin above. I am further intrigued!

@Sage Rose: The full significance of the Ayelid ruins of Lady Cora's nightmares remain to be seen. But you are right, the increasing severity indicates that she is drawing closer to the source of those nightmares.

@Acadian: Both Lieutenant Alorius and Maid Morna are much too aware of Lady Cora's status to let her sleep under the stars (as much as Lady Cora would like to) and Lieutenant Alorius is also too aware of the dangers of camping out on the Gold Coast of the late Second Era. So off we go . . .

@Grits: I'm glad you enjoyed our landfall on the Gold Coast. Julian was cooperative and took us up to the shoreline below Beldaburo so I could capture the ruins as they appeared at the end of the Second Era. It was a gorgeous afternoon for us and she and Blanco got to have a delightful time together. Lady Cora is eternally grateful to the full cooperation of her fellow Muse.

A/N: With the excitement surrounding the triumphant return of a certain hyperactive, bushy-tailed creature, Lady Cora has tapped me gently on the shoulder and reminded me that we have unfinished business. We apologize for our extended absence due to the nemesis called Real Life and offer up this chapter by way of compensation.

The story so far: After a severe bout of seasickness and nightmares upon a stormy sea, Lady Cora has wakened to find herself in Nirn's embrace in a beautiful spot on the Gold Coast. After refusing Lieutenant Alorius's first suggestion to camp in an Ayleid ruin we all know as Beldaburo, she has agreed to a hike southward toward an alternative.

Chapter Forty-two

“I must return to Arpenmalatu,” Captain Solinar murmured. “But I will leave Karim with you. He knows the way to Anvil well, and will escort you safely. Between his swordsmanship and Lieutenant Alorius’s skills, you and your maid will be quite safe.” He turned to Lieutenant Alorius. “I will sail on to Anvil and alert the guards there to watch for you.” He smiled crookedly. “Perhaps I can persuade them to meet you on the way.”

Lieutenant Alorius snorted. “I appreciate any effort you make on our behalf in that regard,” he shook his head. “But I doubt you will be successful. As of yet they barely tolerate us.”

“Things have changed here on the Gold Coast, sir,” Solinar advised the lieutenant. “Ever since Admiral Richton cleared the Abecean of pirates, the town has been more kindly disposed toward the Colovian cause.”

“Letting us use the docks is one thing,” Titus shrugged. “But sending the guard up the shore to meet and escort a minor High Rock noble?” He glanced at me. “My apologies, Lady.”

I shook my head. “An apt d- description, Lieutenant, and one I’ll not dispute.”

The Colovian smiled at me, then turned back to Solinar, his expression turning serious. “I think you’d have better luck with my legion when they disembark the cogs.”

“They are likely a few days behind us, at least.” Solinar responded. “By the time they arrive in the port, chances are you will be staying at the Villa Reman drinking their fine wine imported from Skingrad.” He winked at me. “Quite fine, that wine, madam. I think you will like it very much.”

“Th- thank you good Captain,” I met his clear gaze. Will this be the time our ways part? Will I see him again? “And thank you for all the g- good you’ve done for Morna and myself. I apologize for all the b- bother we have caused you and your c- crew.”

“Ah, madam, but you have been no more a bother than any other passenger,” Solinar responded with an elaborate bow and a sly wink. “Now we must part. Until we meet again, madam, may the sun warm your face and the wind blow at your back!”

“And I wish the s- same to you, good Captain,” I responded as Solinar straightened up and stepped toward the ship’s boat. He flashed a broad grin over his shoulder as his long legs carried him across the sand.

Our small group, Morna, Lieutenant Alorius, Karim and I, silently watched the narrow boat glide into the surf and turn for the anchored Arpenmalatu. None of us moved until the dark shape rose to the caravel’s deck and the white sails billowed out from the slanted yards.

As the Arpenmalatu moved across the brilliant blue-green of the ocean, Titus turned away and picked up a laden pack. He slung its straps across both shoulders and glanced at me. “Ready, Lady?”

I drew my black cloak closer about me and shifted my own smaller bag on my shoulder. “As ready as I’ll ever be, Lieutenant.”

Karim gazed after the graceful caravel a moment longer. Morna and I had already followed Titus a few strides before the Redguard turned from the sea and fell in behind us.

The Colovian traced a path along the edge of the sand, where the tumbled boulders were few and far between. The sun shone brightly down on us, and the golden grass and dark green trees competed with the water in intensity of color. The breeze blew cool on our skin, yet did nothing to ease the heat from the sun.

“It’s so warm here,” Morna’s voice reached me from behind. “Warmer than our summers at Cardonaccum!”

“The further south you go,” Karim’s quiet tones followed us, “the warmer it gets. Here, winter is damp, rainy days, just cold enough to see your breath but not cold enough to turn water to ice. In Valenwood and Elsweyr, the rains are warm even in the first moon of the year.”

“If it’s that warm in Morning Star, how can folks keep from burning up during Sun’s Height?” Morna exclaimed, skepticism in her voice.

“There are ways to deal with the heat,” Titus did not falter in his stride. “Drink plenty of fluids. Keep your skin covered. Rest during the hottest part of the day.”

Morna fell silent. Good. Save your breath. Lieutenant Alorius isn’t exactly strolling along. The countryside around us grew more rugged, tree-covered bluffs pressing closer to the shoreline. As the sun lowered toward the sea, we found ourselves walking along higher ground, avoiding the numerous gullies and small outcroppings that puckered the shoreline.

“We’re almost there,” Titus pointed toward a high hill that rose before us. “Fort Crowhaven. The lord of the castle is sympathetic to the Colovian cause.”

I squinted up at the pines towering over us. Between the boughs I could just make out the glint of sunlight-dappled stones. They had a grey cast, and seemed more solid and mundane than the Ayleid ruins we had left behind.

Titus halted and glanced at the sun, then met Karim’s gaze. The Redguard nodded curtly, then dropped his pack beside a boulder and detached the waterskin.

“It’s a hard climb from here,” Titus detached his container and offered it to me. I noticed that Karim had extended his own to Morna. “Best to replenish the water we’ve lost to the sun before we exert ourselves.”

Morna glanced askance at me, but when I took the proffered drink, she accepted Karim’s gesture. Both of us took only a few sips before returning the water to the men. I noticed that Morna’s face was flushed, and the backs of her wrists and hands, uncovered by the long sleeves of her dress, were beginning to turn pink.

I turned back to Titus. “Lead on, Lieutenant, we are ready.”

As it turned out, the Colovian’s prediction was an understatement. Though he tried to pick an easy path between the rock outcroppings that bolstered the shoulder of the hill, we found ourselves nearly crawling on hands and knees to scale the steep slope. In several places, Morna and I had to accept assistance from the men.

It took us two bells to walk down the coast from our debarkation point. It took us nearly as long just to climb the hill to the fort. After the first half bell, I stopped looking up to check our progress, for each time I did so, the structure seemed further away than ever.

The sun was just touching the sea, flooding everything around us with a soft roseate light, when Titus laid a hand on my arm. “We’re here, Lady,” he murmured.

“Who are you?” A voice, accompanied by a soft clinking of mail, brought my eyes up from the ground at my feet. I locked gazes with a cold stare from the shadows of a steel helm crowned with a nosepiece in the stylized shape of a crow. The guard’s right hand disappeared behind the round shield which bore the same sigil. I knew he gripped his sword and wondered if he had drawn it yet.

“Lieutenant Titus Alorius,” the Colovian responded crisply, moving between the guard and us. “One of General Talos’s legion commanders. We seek shelter tonight in Crowhaven, if Lord Vant remains our friend.”

The guard regarded Titus silently, then his gaze shifted past us to study Karim. After a few more breaths, he muttered something over his shoulder to another armored figure. The other disappeared in the direction of the castle. “You will wait here until we hear from our captain,” his tone held an unfriendly chill. “There are archers above with bows drawn. Best you remain still.”

My eyes lifted involuntarily to the battlements beyond. In some ways it reminded me of Cardonaccum, only with larger stones in a darker grey color. Sparkles of orange shimmered along the tops of the walls. I drew in a deep breath against the weariness in my legs and arms and resisted the temptation to seat myself on a nearby boulder. I had no wish to test the resolve of those archers.

“How dare they!” Morna muttered testily behind me, still out of breath from the arduous climb. “Treat the Lady of Cardonaccum like a beggar at the gates! No, worse, for we —“ she stopped at a sharp glance from me. “Well, it’s true,” she continued in a heated whisper, “we treat our beggars far more kindly than this!”

“Shush, Morna,” I hissed back. “This is not the time or the place.”

“What is it, Fulbenus?” Another voice reached out of the growing shadows surrounding the base of the fort. “Who are these people?”

“Captain,” the guard clanged mailed fist against mailed hauberk. “This man here claims he is from General Talos. But they came from the west side, and if that man,” he nodded in Karim’s direction, “is Colovian I’m a rooster’s teat.”

“General Talos is nowhere in the area,” the captain eyed Titus. “So how do I know you’re not a bandit in looted armor?”

“Lord Vant will remember me from when we last passed by,” Titus’s tone held patient weariness. “If you bring us before him he will vouch for my identity.”

“Bring the torch!” the captain stepped closer to Titus, peering against the glare from the setting sun. One of the other guards obliged with alacrity. “Yes, I remember you, Lieutenant,” the captain gestured a signal. The sudden easing in the guards’ posture was mirrored in my own muscles, and I wavered slightly. “It grows dark, and we must barricade ourselves before the sun is gone,” the captain stepped back and waved us to follow him.

Hooray for the return of Lady Cora! I have missed her and this wonderful story.

I could feel the sun’s heat on that sweaty walk up to Crowhaven. I am absolutely delighted that Lady Cora is digging her toes into Gold Coast soil!

Riiiight...

I have absolutely no idea what happened...I've gone back to see where it was that I'd read up to...

Chapter 17...Seriously?!!... ...

I am so sorry...

A lot of this year has been/is becoming a bit of a blur...

So I intend to catch up, very much so...So, being as I'm catching up, I can't comment on this last chapter though I will applaud it most heartily for simply being there... ...

So, Chapters 17, 18 and 19...

Bloody amazing...It was Lady Cora's going through the dead in Talos' camp, then her return to the castle and her briefing of the Knights - and the others that needed to know - of all the decisions made...

Fair dues, I absolutely loved all of it...So amazingly written...

I love all the characters so much...Brilliantly brought to life...Loving the little subtleties that get put in there...The quick looks, the curtseys and all that...

Oh, that with the horse was beautiful...I saw the picture... ...I bet she was a handful... ...

Oh, and the sketch of Talos reminded me of Dean from Supernatural somehow...So that's gonna stick with me for a while... ...

I really have no idea whether I stopped reading or whether I've just forgotten it...Trust me, it could be either these days...Though I couldn't tell you why I appear to have stopped...Far too amazing for stuff like that...*Shrug*...

So, all I can do is apologise hugely and do my best to catch up/encourage further...Like you need more encouragement... ...Bloody amazing stuff...

Fair dues...Amazing work...Love it hugely...

Here's to the rest of it then... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

I like the way the landscape has grown to proper proportions in this, taking all day to climb up from Beldaburo to Crowhaven. And you manage to reinforce your characters' characters just by walking. Morna complaining, (and being unprepared for the sun), Titus setting a brisk pace, Cora the stoic, trudging on, and not looking ahead.

Nice one, just don't make us wait so long for the next one!

“Now we must part. Until we meet again, madam, may the sun warm your face and the wind blow at your back!” - - This is wonderfully done, as the sea captain speaks in terms of nature’s forces that so dictate life on the sea. Yet, he has translated the very familiar nautical farewell into what flows much more naturally to the ears of the landstriders his words are intended for. A worldly captain indeed.

Grits is right – we could easily feel the sun, heat and weariness building in our legs as the small group made their ascent.

How tantalizing to bring them to Fort Crowhaven. Questions about it abound!

Now that Lady Cora has both feet planted solidly upon Mother Nirn, and that nasty Ayleid Ruin is fading from view, things are looking up. At least they have the nice California Gold Coast weather. I would suggest they try some surfing on the way, but after the boat trip, that would probably not be a good idea for Cora.

Isn't Crowhaven the abode of The Grey Prince's dear old dad? I wonder if the Lord has any female Orc servants?

Not exactly a warm welcome! The way the captain of the guard said they needed to barricade themselves before the sun went down does not bode well. I wonder if they are having vampire problems?



nits:
“The further south you go,”
I am thinking you want farther here. Further is for metaphorical distances, like sinking further in despair, where farther is for actual, physical distances, like farther down the street.

Wow. Just, wow. I mean it, hautee, this is absolutely fantastic! All those NaNo’s have given you some serious chops, girl! Knowing that I had a (very) small role inspiring what this became is about as much validation as I will ever need as a writer. Thank you so much! I’m not fully caught up yet. My process is to read a chapter, read it again, and then read it a third time while taking notes. This is what I have so far:

- Chapters One & Two -

It was brilliant of you to delve deeply into just a few of the infinite thoughts that must be applied to the preparations for war. Cora’s decision to house the crofter’s livestock within the bailey is not only compassionate, it is tactically sound as well. This bent to her mind is further reinforced by the excellent flashback sequence you give us to end chapter one (btw, do I sense a bit of Rebecca seeping into the whole dead first wife, timid new wife scenario?). As the lady of Cardonaccum, Cora doesn’t need to extend to her full height to cast a long shadow. That is how first chapters are supposed to look!

One nit. This...

...was slightly confusing to me.

- Chapter Three -

Must confess to a bit of a wordgasm at:

That just reads like butter, but that pretty much applies to this whole chapter. Here is where those aforementioned chops really started to kick in! The repetition of the rain and nightmare motif was masterfully handled, as was the simpler detail of Robert taking his lady’s hand to help her down the slippery steps right before formally professing his loyalty. Details like that work on many levels and convey so much while still remaining precisely what they are. Sheer virtuosity! The moment that Cora spends knealt at the cot (‘now my husband’s bier’... loved that!) with Wallace honestly made me cry.

I don’t know anyone who can introduce me to a specific animal as well as you do. Nightshade had me at the first spark. And Cora has seen the man under the hood in her nightmare? I find it interesting that she seems to know and understand the lineage that she possesses as the daughter of a Witchman, but she is so distant from it that she is still able to mistake prophecy for nightmare. That says something about the relationship she shares with her father. I will be interested to see how that is born out in the chapters to come.

- Chapter Four -

Let me take a moment to ponder: *Destri takes a moment* Rutger Hauer as Talos... Roy Batty as Talos. I can actually see it. Interesting how you see him. When I think of Talos at this stage of his life I always see Michael Fassbender... there are definite similarities!

Even in your story Talos combines ruthless calculation with singular courage. To venture into the very courtyard of your slain enemy requires a certain amount of cheek.

Speaking of which, I do have to share one thing that I found a little jarring. There was one moment in the chapter when I distictly heard hautee the writer instead of Cora the character. That was the moment when Cora ‘murmurs’ into the servant’s ear. She could have just said that she murmured her instructions (what she did say is that she murmured, then the servant went off to carry out those instructions). I know it was just a matter of style and not something done intentionally because you would have paid that off later in the scene. But drawing attention to the ‘murmur’ itself as a singular act in a first person story reads a little bit like ‘look, folks, nothing up my sleeve’ and it seemed a little cheeky for Cora IMHO. Not a nit per say, but I was a little disappointed when I reached the end of the chapter without any new knowledge about Cora's instructions.

- Chapters Five & Six -

Funny how Talos’ words were perceived as a veiled threat. I saw them as a reminder to the wife of the formidable Lord Wallace not to allow herself to be carried forth on emotion when there are matters of state left unattended. I admit that my own affection for Talos might be coloring my perspective here, especially given the fact that I know that it is an affection that you share (though I doubt either of us comes close to the good Cap’n). In those moments between them I saw Talos as affording Lady Cora the utmost respect... even as her reactions toward him are perfectly colored by the dread at having seen Talos in her recurring prophecy nightmare.

The confrontation at Sir Rodric’s cot produced exactly the tension you were going for. Cora handled herself with admirable restraint, underscoring Sir Rodric’s description of her from earlier in the chapter. One thing that I have always admired in your writing is your ability to show the moments that mark the subtle genesis of a hero (Or, in this case, a leader). Cora is a natural and she doesn’t even realize it. You did the same thing with Julian, and it is something that I unashamed to say that I plan to steal.

I must disagree with you on something you said to Cap’n Hammer (BamBam is just priceless, btw). You said that, outside of Martin, none of the other Septims had measured up. I humbly submit that Potema, Wolf Queen of Solitude, was every bit Talos’ heir. Evil is in the eye of the beholder. Remember the lengths to which Talos eventually went to secure his goals. Had Talos been an elf it would be very interesting to see how the ‘human’ races of Tamriel would have viewed him.

- Chapters Seven, Eight, & Nine -

Or, as I like to call them, the initial turning of the wheels! Cora has certainly not wasted her ten years at Cardonaccum. One must be either extraordinary, or etraordinarily delicate, to ilicit such loyalty from the smallfolk. Cora is not delicate (though she is short). BamBam nailed it again when he said that she was growing more impressive with each succeeding chapter. It is becoming increasingly apparent that she suffers from SUMS (severe, unwarranted modesty syndrom) or, as it is better known, Julian-itis. Funny how your protagonists all carry the same affliction!

Talos comes across the way you wanted. The audience with Lady Cora laid things out along the lines that I expected, and his willingness to leave without an answer when he just as easily could have coerced one makes me believe that he has seen enough of Cora to trust her to best gauge what is in her best interest.

I'll leave off for now with the barbarians legions at the gate. But don't worry, I couldn't quit reading it now if I wanted to. You have no idea how much I've missed this!

I'm all caught up! I really enjoyed these last few chapters on the boat to be especially enjoyable, and as always your penchant for using details to make the world seem authentic; this time with the way you talked about what the cogs and the Arpenmalatu were capable and not capable of; made the story all the more interesting.

I was quite interested in the fact that Cora experienced the usual symptoms on Nirn-deprivation while on the sea, considering that both land and sea are large spaces that are very hospitable towards organic life (namely, rich in carbon, with large amounts living/decomposed organic matter always present [humus on the land, phytoplankton on the sea] to draw/vent arcane power from) and they're both sufficiently 'mystical' to serve as a magical lightning conductor, which seems to be the sort of thing Cora needs.

So, this lead me on to thinking one of three things; 1: With Cora being insulated from the sea's power by the deck of the Arpenmalatu, and thus unable to let it serve the same role that solid ground serves for her. I suppose there's the chance that she might discover that she can use the ocean in the same way she uses solid ground when she goes for a paddle. Either that, or she just needs to learn how to manage her magicka differently while on the water, seeing as they are different in a lot of ways as well as very similar.
2: This power is greatly dependent on chemical composition of the soil around her, and is something that can be altered depending on the geology of where she is; she may be 'adapted' to the fertile ground around Cardonaccum and so may draw power from Hummus-rich, carbonated and fertiliser-rich soil with the right pH, but may find herself in trouble if she goes to an area which is sandy, rocky or just chemically different from Cardonaccum to some notable degree (such as highly alkaline soil). I have no idea whether or not she could adjust her magicka in some way to learn to conduct power through that ground as she might be able to do so with the sea.
3: I'm just really, really overthinking things.

Grits: It's good to be back! The summer was kind of hectic, and things got away from me for a bit. TES V didn't help. At. All.

McB: Don't worry, mate! You'll catch up -- eventually. Glad you liked the next three chapters!

ghastley: All right, all right! Here's the next one, just for you!

Acadian: I'm glad you're curious about Ft. Crowhaven. I have more detail about the place coming up. You may find it unrecognizable compared to the musty, forgotten dungeon Buffy's used to. Just keep in mind this story takes about 400 years before Buffy's Oblivion adventures!

Sage Rose: You are right in detecting a shade of problems in the captain's comment about barricading the castle before sundown. We are about to see what happens next! As for the further/farther thing, I gave it serious consideration. You are absolutely right that farther would be the better choice here. Yet, this is dialog, and at least around here, people interchange further/farther rather freely. Annoying, I know, but I'm guilty of that myself. I'm still undecided whether or not to change it as you suggest.

Destri: OMG! You are BAAAACK! I can't tell you how thrilled I am to know that you are reading this story. Of course your talent as a world-building and writer has been a huge inspiration for this little tale. Okay, it's not so little by now. But I hope you continue reading and enjoying it as we go along. Thanks very much for your feedback, it's good to have fresh eyes on the early parts, especially as I'm picking up after a prolonged absence.

Colonel Mustard: Umm, I rather suspect you're overthinking things a bit here. Instead of Nirn being the source of all carbon-based life, I rather see Lady Cora's Nirn Goddess as being at the center of things, i.e. at the core of this little planet. As volcanic activity is muted on the ocean, so is Nirn's strength muted for Lady Cora. The heat at the Earth's core drives everything on its surface, but nowhere is it so evident as it is in the volcanoes. For Lady Cora, the ocean muffles the strength she draws from Nirn to a greater degree than does riding a horse. In any case, I'm delighted that you are busy thinking through implications of the story, simply because it makes me see it from a different perspective and can often be inspirational!

The story so far: Our intrepid trio has made landfall on the Gold Coast and, with First Mate Karim, hiked south to Crowhaven for the night. Their reception was somewhat less than warm, but Lady Cora and her maid Morna are too tired to care overmuch.

*********************
Chapter Forty-three

Fulbenus avoided our eyes as we passed him and stumbled toward the gates. My muscles cried for relief and a warm, soft bed. My skin felt hot, and I realized that I must be as sunburned as Morna. I focused instead on keeping my feet moving, aware of the frequent glances from Titus as he matched my stride, ready to catch me should I falter.

We must have been quite the bedraggled sight, sunburned and sand-crusted, to the folk of the fort as we entered the courtyard. Unlike Cardonaccum, Crowhaven lacked the typical keep within walls. Rather, its walls were the keep, wide and squat, open to the stars above with steps leading up to two ring galleries that lined the walls. Torches flared in the growing gloom, vainly keeping the shadows at bay. On the ground level horses stamped in picket lines, and a farrier worked his forge with barely a glance at us.

Unlike the entrance at Cardonaccum, which opened into the great hall, the broad squat wooden door we entered let us into a stone passageway that led downward. Torches cast warm pools of light onto a bare stone floor. Morna hesitated with a whimper, but I followed the captain and Titus without hesitation, for Nirn’s influence embraced me, from the floor, the walls and the ceiling.

A short distance within, the passageway became a staircase dropping down into a chamber with a high ceiling. Braziers chased away the chill present in the stones. Two open hearths, one on each side, provided warmth and cooking pots. The ring mail of the militia clinked softly as they moved between the hearths and the benches set along the walls.

On the far side, another passageway led further into the fort. The captain led us through a twisting maze, past weapons racks and armories, past sleeping areas where several guards burrowed beneath woolen blankets, past a small room where men and women gathered around a game of tumblebones.

Finally we passed through a small wooden door into a hallway which opened into an immense chamber. A raised dais filled much of the space, leaving a narrow walkway around its bulk. The captain led us up a flight of stairs onto the top of the platform.

“Lord Vant,” he slammed fist to cuirass and bowed slightly in the Legion salute. “I bring to you Lieutenant Alorius and companions.”

“Lieutenant!” A lean, dark man turned from a wide table. “What brings you here? Is General Talos with you?”

“No, Lord Vant,” Titus answered. “He is encamped outside Cyrodiil City. We are on our way to rejoin him.”

“You were in High Rock, weren’t you?” Vant drew near, and his dark eyes passed over Morna and Karim before settling on me. “And who are your companions?”

“Yes, we come from High Rock,” Titus turned to me. “This is Lady Cora, Lord Cardonaccum. She has been invited to attend the Emperor’s Day in Cyrodiil City.”

Vant’s brows rose. “Emperor’s Day?” he repeated. “We have not had an Emperor in — oh, I see.” Comprehension swept over his face as his eyes sought the stone ceiling above. "So King Cuhlecain's ambition mounts ever higher?" He lowered his gaze back to Titus. "Wouldn't that be considered hubris?"

"Or audacity," Titus responded.

"Now that," Vant tipped his index finger toward Titus, "is a more apt description of your General Talos." His gaze moved over us. "But your journey has been eventful?"

"We had to make landfall near Beldaburo," Titus straightened his shoulders. "We seek shelter for the night, for we must meet my Legion in Anvil tomorrow."

"You had no trouble on the way here, I hope?" Vant eyed Morna and I speculatively. I shook my head in response.

"If you may be p- pleased, Lord Vant," I put on my best Lady tone, "we are weary and wish only a safe place to lay our heads."

"This is a fighting fort," Vant spread his hands expressively. "As such, our quarters are rather spare."

"Lord Vant," I lifted my chin and met his gaze squarely, "As long as it is c- clean and vermin-free, any accommodations you can provide within these walls will be much more than adequate."

The Colovian regarded me dubiously. "Then I hope you will not have cause to complain, Lord Cardonaccum." His eyes connected with those of a soldier beyond us, and a silent communication passed between them.

The soldier stepped forward. "If Lord Vant's guests will follow me, I will show them to where they may spend the night." Again he exchanged glances with the nobleman. "I think they will find the most suitable accommodations in the Lady's old quarters."

"Thank you, Madsen," Vant turned back to the table and shuffled some papers. "I will stop by in a little while to ensure your comfort, Lady. But now I must ready the fort for the night."

As I turned to follow the man named Madsen, I caught the sharp glance Titus sent in the direction of Lord Vant. Then the lieutenant moved to my side and we moved out of the hall.

"Is th- there something wrong?" I whispered for Titus's ears only.

"I'm sure Lord Vant has things under control," he responded. "But things are different from the last time I stopped here . . ."

"Can he be t- trusted?" I stifled the sudden twinge of alarm at the undercurrent in his tone.

"More than Baron Schiavalli of Anvil," Titus shrugged, his face impassive in the flickering torchlight. "At least we will be under shelter tonight."

But will we be treated as honored guests? I wondered silently to myself. Or as hostages?

Madsen led us through a short and wide passageway to another stout wooden door. "Wait here," he instructed as he swung the door back. "Let me light the tapers first." He set the torch in a bracket just inside the entrance and touched a wick to the flame. His form disappeared into the deep shadows within, only his hand visible in the dim glow of the wick.

Suddenly the tiny flame separated into six, and the glow brightened to shed light onto a table top in the center of the space. Beyond I could just make out the edge of a wooden furnishing. Titus led me into the room, and I paused beside the round table. Behind me Morna sighed in weariness that echoed my own. Karim stepped past us and plucked a taper from the candelabra and moved after Madsen.

Moments later the silent Ra'Gada knelt silhouetted against the roaring fire he had built in the hearth. The flickering light illuminated more of the room, showing simple stools and cots around the walls. Madsen, still carrying the wick, moved around the chamber lighting braziers set against the four sides. He returned to the table and extinguished his flame.

"We will bring refreshments along shortly," he addressed Titus. "They will be simple, but I trust everyone will find them satisfactory." Madsen caught my gaze and directed my attention to a pair of leather screens set against the wall. "When the Lady stayed here, she would use them for privacy. Feel free to set them however you wish."

"Thank you, M- Madsen," I responded and moved to the hearth. "I'm sure we will be quite comfortable tonight." Already I felt stronger, thanks to the presence of Nirn in the stones all around us.

His ring mail clinked softly as the soldier inclined his head to me and saluted Titus with fist to chest. As he left the room, Titus set his pack down on the table and looked around the room. Morna moved to one of the cots and patted it warily. She coughed at the dust that wafted up from the furs and drew back.

"Nothing that a good shake won't solve," she murmured stoutly, and proceeded to gather armfuls of the pelts from two of the cots. Titus and Karim watched in some bemusement as she bustled out of the room into the wide passageway beyond and began flapping each fur vigorously. Briefly I wondered at her sudden burst of energy, but realized that as tired as she was, Morna retained her pragmatic outlook. She must be glad of the excuse to be useful in some way.

"Here, madam," Karim made a show of sweeping dust from a stool he set beside the hearth. I set my bag beside Titus's larger pack on the table and moved to take my seat. A sigh escaped my lips as my weight eased from my sore feet. I pulled the hem of my skirt back and stretched my toes toward the fire.

"Don't worry, Lady," Titus said to me as Morna returned with the bedding and spread them on the cots. "The hardest part of the journey is over. There is a clear path from here to the Gold Road, then a walk of just a few hours down to Anvil and the port. Downhill all the way!"

I smiled at his words. "Th- thank you for the encouragement, Lieutenant," I stretched my lower back. I met his gaze as Titus drew a second stool and settled beside me. "But is it my imagination, or was our welcome here less th- than you expected?"

Titus fell silent, his gaze on his outstretched boots.

So nice to see you continuing this!

You are building a wonderful air of foreboding mystery within the dark walls of Crowhaven. Happily, Lady Nirn’s essence carries through the stones to Lady Cora’s feet. That makes the fort better than the ship at this point, I’d imagine.

Lord Vant's brief discussion with Titus about Cuhlecain and Talos served as an effective and gentle reminder of ‘where we are in the story’.

I wonder what takes place outside the fort at night causing those within to be so concerned about its nocturnal security? Oh well, despite Titus’ brooding – and I wouldn't bet against his judgment there – they are warm and dry, with good prospects for bedding and food.

At least the subterranean style keep is welcome relief for Cora's Nirn-needy body.

So Lord Vant is in charge? I was half expecting it to be the Grey Prince's father.

And of course it is Cyrodiil City, with the lack of current Empire. Though as Lord Vant noted, King Cuce certainly has ideas otherwise. So too of course does his general Talos... I could not help but smile at Vant's characterization of Talos being the audacious one. It reminds me of R.E. Lee, who was once described as being audacity personified.

I wonder if Madsen's first name is Michael? Or Virginia?

"The hardest part of the journey is over.
Oh Titus had to go and ruin it all by saying that! Now disaster is certain to strike our travellers.

Yeah, I thought I was overthinking things. You're welcome to any of those ideas if you find use for them, though

If there's one thing I like about this chapter, though it's that you introduced a character called Madsen, simply because I also had a character called Madsen in one of my old fics. It was nice.

I liked Cora's observations on the fort being mostly underground as being slightly strange (or at least, different from the more traditionally fort-like architecture of Cardonaccum*); they mirrored my own when I first went poking around in Crowhaven. This was a nicely atmospheric chapter, and I like the sense of foreboding that came from both Lord Vant and whatever it is he's barricading the castle against. It certainly leaves me wondering exactly what it is they're worried about.


*you could say that building normal castles in not Lord Vant's forte! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHpleasehelpmeI'mdeadinside

"Is there something wrong?" I whispered for Titus's ears only.

"I'm sure Lord Vant has things under control," he responded. "But things are different from the last time I stopped here . . ."


This hints that Titus isn't sure, and makes me wonder what "things" will turn out to be.

"Don't worry, Lady," Titus said to me as Morna returned with the bedding and spread them on the cots. "The hardest part of the journey is over. There is a clear path from here to the Gold Road, then a walk of just a few hours down to Anvil and the port. Downhill all the way!"

Uh oh!

I felt like I was right there with Lady Cora throughout her journey to the depths of the fort. Morna was wonderful, perking back up when she discovered dirt to conquer. I too am wondering what the nocturnal threat could be. How I have missed Lady Cora!

First an interesting observation:

I realized, in reviewing my recent chapters, that I had dropped Lady Cora's stutter in the last post. What's even more interesting is that no one here has commented on that! Have we become so accustomed to her disability that it is now invisible to us? I see that all the time in my own family - my mother will be speaking to me, but her face is turned away so I can't lipread her. You would think after forty-nine years she'd know better --

@Acadian: Yes, our intrepid folk are warm and dry, and looking forward to food and bed! Yet that sense of foreboding you remark on is pretty strong to both Lady Cora and Titus, and I don't doubt Karim senses it as well, though he remains unsmilingly taciturn. If Morna feels anything, it's the others' own doubts more than anything else.

@SubRosa: Welcome relief indeed! From famine to feast! Lady Cora is glad of the embrace of the cold stones. While she enjoys fresh air and sunshine like anyone else who is not a vampire, she is so Nirn-starved that she just wants to sleep deep in the dungeons of Fort Crowhaven. I figure the Grey Prince's father Loviducus comes about 200 years later. As for Madsen, I'd go with Michael. He's the weatherbeaten one. Virginia's the glam doll. Both are darn sexy, IMHO.

@Colonel Mustard: I'm glad you enjoyed Lady Cora's foray into the bowels of Crowhaven. I wanted to show it in its heyday as an outpost of County Anvil, back when its lords were semi-independent and had their own militias due to the political climate of those days. Thanks for the ideas, we'll see how things go.

@ghastley: I loved how Titus contradicts himself here. He tries to be reassuring, but at the same time he knows Lady Cora is not one to be lightly brushed off with inane platitudes.

@Grits: Isn't Morna a cute one? I find her delightful to write. She's so out of her depth here, that she finds comfort in the oddest things.

The story so far: Our intrepid adventurers have reached Fort Crowhaven and are now sheltering within its depths. Just in time for nighttime activities, it seems!

******************
Chapter Forty-four

"I trust you find the accommodations suitable, Lady?" Lord Vant's question reached us from the open doorway. I tried to suppress my guilty start as I turned my head toward his sturdy frame. "No, don't get up on my account," he held his hand out to stop me when I gathered my skirts. "You've walked a long way to get here, and the climb up the western bluffs isn't easy."

"No, it wasn't, s- sir," I managed to reply. "But I am not unaccustomed to such hard t- travel.” I sensed Karim's glance at me. "By land, at least."

"Then we must ensure you have the refreshments you need," Lord Vant stepped aside as Madsen returned with two other soldiers, one male and one female. All bore wide trays, and I could see fresh linens, covered dishes and flagons on them. Morna immediately claimed the clean bedding from the bemused woman, and began preparing the beds for sleep.

Lord Vant waited while the three soldiers served us with bowls of warm mutton stew, hard crusty bread, and a choice of beverages. I chose water, while Titus took wine. The cots finished, Morna joined Karim in sampling the ale. After Madsen and his comrades left, Lord Vant joined us at the round table and helped himself to some of the wine.

Being men, Titus and Karim finished their meals first. Titus leaned back with his goblet and met Lord Vant's gaze. "Tell me, sir," he rolled the wine between his fingers. "What concerns you tonight?"

"Many things," Lord Vant replied. "Who will win this war -- will the side I have chosen be victorious? Will Baron Schiavalli allow me to continue as Talos's ally? Or will he remove me from my post here at Fort Crowhaven? What of old Cynebald over in Sutch?" He regarded the wine in the depths of his cup. "Is the fort ready for siege, should it come to it?"

"Those are the same concerns you had the last time we met, Lord Vant," Titus murmured. "But there is something different this time. Your captain mentioned barricading this castle before sundown. Against what?"

Lord Vant slid a sidelong glance at me. "It is not something I wish to discuss in front of present company, Lieutenant."

Titus made a soft noise. "Lady Cora is Lord of her holding in every way that matters, sir. She has led fighting men in siege and in peace. She is no stranger to war."

Lord Vant's brows rose at me. I lowered my eyes and sipped demurely from my pewter cup. "Which r- ruler has the Way?" I quoted softly. "Which general has greater ability? Who has g- gained the advantages of Aetherius and Nirn? Whose laws are more thoroughly implemented? Whose f- forces are stronger? Whose officers and troops are better trained? Whose rewards and p- punishments are clearer? From these I will know victory and defeat!"

Lord Vant regarded me for several breaths, his goblet halfway to open mouth. In the corner of my gaze I watched Titus hide his smile in a sip of wine.

"Well," Lord Vant said finally. He lowered the cup and turned his gaze to the ceiling above. "As for strategic power, it is controlling the tactical imbalance of power in accord with the gains to be realized."

I smiled at the familiar quotation. "Warfare is the Tao of d- deception,” I countered. "Please, Lord Vant, answer Lieutenant Alorius's question. I await your answer with much c- curiosity.”

Lord Vant cleared his throat and took another sip. "We are not certain just what is going on," he muttered. "Guards have gone missing at night. First it was just one, or two, and we thought they had taken off to Anvil for a night of carousing. But they never came back. Then one of our women noticed the horses growing anxious after sundown. By morning they would be soaked in sweat and exhausted." He sighed. "Last week several of our night watch reported that comrades would disappear from beside them. Last night our battlemage went up on the ramparts. She hasn't yet returned."

"She disappeared, too?" Titus asked, his brows lifted incredulously. Lord Vant nodded grimly.

"And now we are defenseless against magical attack," his tone held a fatalistic grimness.

I considered his words. "Would it be p- possible for me to see the horses tonight?" I asked softly. "Perhaps I can keep them calm."

Lord Vant began to shake his head, but stopped at Titus's steady regard of me. "I do not wish evil to befall our guests tonight," he set the goblet down and rose to his feet. "Forgive me, Lady Cora, for not accepting your assistance tonight." He bowed to me, then nodded at Karim and Morna before turning to Titus. "I advise all of you to remain here until sunrise. You will be protected from whatever it is that besieges us." He glanced at me once more. "Sleep well, my friends."

We stared after his departing form silently. When the door closed behind him, Titus set his goblet down and turned to the fire. I studied him for a moment, then drew breath.

"Lieutenant, what will you d- do?”

He shook himself. "Nothing, it seems." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, still avoiding my gaze. "My first responsibility is to keep you safe, Lady."

I rose to my feet and moved toward the door. Morna exclaimed and shoved her stool back. "Milady!" she called to me. "Surely you are not thinking of --!"

I turned back to see Karim and Titus on their feet as well. "I am th- thinking of the horses," I said quietly. "Something is frightening them badly. I d- do not wish to sit idle here while they suffer in terror the entire night."

"Madam," Karim stepped forward. "It can be dangerous tonight. If the castle is breached, " he stopped, his eyes narrowed in the shadows beneath his brows.

"If the c- castle is breached, Karim," I countered, "would we be safe down here? This is a d- dead end, as far as I can tell, with only one way out -- the way we came in." I shook my head. "I'm like the h- horses. I like knowing I can get away if I must."

"Lady," Titus's voice was deceptively calm. "Are you immune to magical attacks?"

I considered his question. Am I? Maybe that is why I survived my father's "test" all those years ago, the test I supposedly failed. "It's t- true, magic has no effect on me," I said finally. "But I am not immune to normal weapons."

"All the more reason to stay here," Titus said finally. "Remember, you are not immune to horses' hooves, either."

I winced at his reminder of my adventures last spring. In spite of myself, I breathed deeply against the healed fractures in my ribs. "And you, Lieutenant, are not immune to either magic or m- mundane weapons. Does that s- stop you from heading out into battle?"

He lifted his brows at me. "But I am trained to use and defend against weapons," he countered softly. "And I am sworn to protect you, Lady." He tilted his head and spread his hands expressively. "Would Robert Whitearm permit you to go out on a night like this?"

I sighed and returned to the table. "I do not like sitting here with my head in the g- gorse bushes while men and women out there may be dying," I said finally. "But you are right, Lieutenant. I am not t- trained to defend myself against either weapons nor magic."

"We are weary," Titus nodded toward the cots. "Let us get as much rest as possible, and we shall leave at first light."

"Sensible advice for a change!" Morna exclaimed, and bustled to the cots. She began struggling with one of the screens. With an inscrutable glance at me, Karim moved to assist her, and before long two cots were shielded from the room. I noted that Morna was careful to include one of the braziers in the enclosed corner, and smiled to myself at her practicality.

"Thank you, Morna," I moved to one of the cots. "And you as well, Karim. I am g- grateful always for your presence and assistance."

The Ra'Gada shot me a startled glance, then inclined his head. "You are always welcome, Madam," his voice was soft and bland. He drew back to the fire. As I settled within the furs of my cot, I listened to their soft murmurs. Then my body reminded me of the exhausting day, and the debilitating storm of the previous day. Please, Goddess, no nightmares tonight. I have had enough to last me the rest of my life! I barely had time for that last thought before sleep overwhelmed me.