Well, I guess we didn't get to see what GENERAL TALOS STORMCROWN, DRAGON OF THE NORTH!!!! wants just yet, but hopefully we will soon.

And yeah, my fanboyism is of a pretty-much unhealthy level. Whenever I read about Tiber Septim and his exploits, I think of a combination of two important characters from the Warhammer 40,000 universe: The God-Emperor of Mankind combined with COMMISAR CIAPHAS CAIN, HERO OF THE IMPERIUM!!!! and then plopped down in Tamriel.

And yes, the capitalizations and boldface are required when referring to COMMISAR CIAPHAS CAIN, HERO OF THE IMPERIUM!!!!, as well as his title and the attendant exclamation points.

Where was I? Ah, yes. Now I remember.

So, Talos has posted orders for his legions to move if they don't hear back from him, that being a metaphorical Dead-Man's Trigger to hold against Cardonaccum, and my best guess is that those orders of the "Pillage, Plunder, and Burn" variety to reinforce just how bad an idea it would be to kill him. It's what I'd do.

I will be interested to see what Talos wants as much as the others. I do not yet know enough about the metaphysics of this story to determine what it is that Talos needs, as I would imagine that if this story takes place under the same rules as Julian faced back in Fort Blueblood while trying to find Dagail's father's amulet. If that's the case, I wonder just how much of a problem winter poses for a general whose armies could always march under uncannily Clear Skies.

It is good to see Cora taking the active role in marshaling her resources early. It may not have been likable or enjoyable to see Robert reminded of the bounds of his oaths but it showed that the Lady-Lord of the Castle will treat challenges to her authority the same, no matter the source. Good on her, both for making the point, and doing it respectfully for one that is among her supporters.

@SubRosa: I am glad you have finally figured out the geographic location. I am not sure just where the Crypt of Hearts is, but I will trust your judgment. And yes, you are right - Sirs Laird and Broc are dangerous foes indeed.

@Stratocumulus: Take your time and enjoy! It's good to see you gaining so much from your reading of my little story.

@Grits: That discussion between Robert and Lady Cora was fun to write! There are more to come!

@McB: Niall and Jannet make quite the pair - they represent the castle servants and are great to write, even though they have relatively minor roles.

@ghastley: What's holding Lady Cora back is the time she needs to gather her resources and fully assess her situation. Remember, she has studied Art of War and Crossing the Bjoulsae, among others. She is merely following her education.

@Acadian: Thanks for pointing out the obvious - the longer the supply lines, the harder it is to maintain an army's momentum. Still true, even in this day and age of air support.

@BamBam: Yes, you are right, Talos has the TES version of the Deadman's Trigger as his Plan B. As for weather control, well, let's just say that marching armies under clear skies would take an awful amount of energy Magicka. More than a mere mortal can generate. And sorry, I'm writing of Talos the man, not TALOS THE LEGENDARY IMMORTAL DRAGONBORN OF ALL TIME!!!

The story so far: We have watched Lady Cora gather information about her situation and learn who supports her as Wallace's successor and who doesn't. Now we get to what everyone is so anxiously waiting for: Talos's proposal.

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Chapter Eight

I turned from the book in my lap to the sun, now stronger as it neared zenith. “On fatal terrain I will show them that we will not live.” That is what Wallace set out to do. Must I do this, as well? Must I stand firm? Do I even have the courage and resources to do so? I considered the book again, then turned the pages back to an earlier section.

Aha, here it is: “Subjugating the enemy’s army without fighting is the true pinnacle of excellence.” That is what I will have to do - with Sir Laird, Sir Broc, and Onchu, as well as this General Talos. “If I do not want to engage in combat, even though I merely draw a line upon the ground and defend it, they will not be able to engage me in battle because we thwart their movements.” I will remember these words.

I closed the book and swung my bare feet to the floor. Footsteps in the open doorway of the study drew my attention upwards. Niall entered with a fresh pot of tea. “Robert asked me to bring this to you, milady,” he said with a bow. “He is on his way with the prisoners.”

Carefully I set the ancient book aside and rose from the window seat. “Thank you, Niall.” I gestured for him to set it up on the library table. “I will take it from there.” As he bowed and left, I moved to the teapot and refilled my clay cup.

Booted footfalls warned me of Robert’s approach. I carried my tea to the desk and moved to take my seat behind it.

“Milady,” Robert stepped into the room. “General Talos and Lieutenant Titus Alorius.” He moved aside to let the others enter.

As imposing as Robert’s presence was, it dwindled next to Talos. Though the general was of average height and build, he carried himself with an arrogant confidence that filled the room and made its impressive book collection seem insignificant. Behind him, Titus Alorius seemed like a mere slip of a boy between Talos and Robert.

Yet Talos’s so young. Only twenty-five. Younger even than me. But those eyes. For the first time, I could see them clearly. They were not dark, as I had surmised before, but a startlingly clear hazel.

Once again the shaken feeling swept through me as we locked gazes. Then he bowed courteously to me. “Lady Cora,” his quiet voice carried across the study, full of authority and calm. “Thank you for giving me a little of your time.”

I seated myself before my knees gave way. This is ridiculous! Robert would never let him harm me! “P- please, have a seat,” I gestured toward the two upholstered chairs beside the fire. Somehow my hand didn’t shake as I sipped at the tea. Robert shifted to stand beside the desk, unquestionably my bodyguard in this situation. As the two men moved to sit, I took a deep breath to steady myself and to scare away the stutter I could feel surging in my throat. “I trust you find your accommodations agreeable?”

Talos glanced up as he settled himself more comfortably in the chair - not an easy thing with his plate armor. “Yes, quite,” he replied, a tinge of sarcasm in his tone. “Though surrounded by salt as we are, our thirst has been uncommonly strong.”

I ignored the implied criticism of our castle’s courtesy. “I believe Robert has been diligent in seeing to your needs,” I said slowly. After another sip of the strong tea, I folded my hands on the desk. “General, you said you had a p- proposal for me. Now’s the time.”

“I can help you with your quandary if you’ll help me with mine,” Talos got right to the point. His hazel eyes held mine steadily as I considered his words. What quandary is he talking about? How to get demoralized men through the winter? How to maintain Cardonaccum’s independence against an invasion force? How to get rid of him?

“What q- quandary is that?” I managed to keep my stammering under control. Talos’s next words caught me off guard.

“Do you wish to lead Cardonaccum in light of your husband’s passing?”

I stared at him. “Wh- what does it matter to you?” I remembered to keep my breathing slow to neutralize my stutter. “You’re here to conquer every lord in High Rock, aren’t you?”

Talos regarded me for a few moments. “‘When employing them in battle, a victory that is long in coming will blunt their weapons and dampen their ardor.’”

I stifled my involuntary gasp at recognizing the words I knew so well, words I had read so many times over in Art of War. Silence settled into the study as my mind raced through the implications. He’s read the book and is very familiar with it. No wonder he was so successful at Sancre Tor, and so far in High Rock. But does the fact that he quoted this particular statement mean that he is overextended and knows it? Just how much does he know of the situation here? I lowered my eyes from Talos and sipped again at my tea to gain a little more time.

“I see that you are familiar with a certain book,” Talos continued calmly. He nodded in the direction of the window seat when I looked back at him. “I, too, have studied the same material. You don’t need me to tell you that I hold its precepts close to my heart.” Now he inclined his head at me. “Nor do I doubt you do the same.”

I leaned back in the chair, speechless. Even my stutter was silent. Beside me Robert grew tense as he looked from Talos to me. Finally I took a deep breath. Then another.

“I believe you intend to carry on Lord Wallace’s legacy at Cardonaccum,” Talos continued. “And I understand that certain people are not supportive of the idea. Sir Laird has already offered to relieve you of the burden, hasn’t he?” He rose from his chair and moved to the window seat. As I stared, he picked up the ancient volume I had been reading and carefully paged through it. Finding the place he sought, he brought the book to me and laid it on the desk, open to a page in the latter half.

I did not have to read far to see his meaning. “In general, as for the armies you want to strike, the cities you want to attack, and the men you want to assassinate, you must first know the names of the defensive commander, his assistants, staff, door guards, and attendants.” Talos returned to his seat and moved to stand behind it, resting his arms on its high back. I regarded him thoughtfully. He’s telling me he has spies within Cardonaccum. Why?

“Lady Cora, you can not keep your position without help.” He tipped his head respectfully at Robert. “I don’t doubt there are those here who have sworn you their staunch support. But not only do you have enemies within, but also without Cardonaccum.”

“Such as you,” I said when he paused. “So what is your proposal?”

“I will support you in your position here as Lord Cora of Cardonaccum.” Talos’s smile did not reach his hazel eyes.

Robert inhaled sharply. “We don’t --“ He stopped when I held up my hand. “Sorry, milady,” he muttered so that only I heard.

I sipped my tea again. “And what do you hope to gain in return?”

“An ally, no more,” he answered simply. “I had hoped to make this proposal to Lord Wallace himself, but he moved before I could send him a messenger.” He looked down at his loosely clasped hands. I could see the scrapes and bruises across his knuckles that came with combat. “It is rather unfortunate that he died under these circumstances.” He ran his left thumb across his right palm. “But I still would rather have you as my ally than as my enemy.”

“Even if it means making an enemy out of Sir Laird?” I asked. “For certain he wouldn’t accept such an alliance with you.”

He looked up at me from beneath brows shaped like swallow’s wings. “Exactly why I am speaking to you, Lady Cora, and not him.” He shrugged expressively. “Sir Laird will always be my enemy, but as long as he does not hold Cardonaccum, he is of no concern to me.”

I leaned my left elbow on the arm of my chair and rested my jaw in my upraised palm. “I don’t doubt that he would seek an excuse to unseat me. He thinks he already has one.”

“That you’re a woman?” Talos asked. “Or a barefoot Witch?”

Again I reeled from surprise, though I kept myself motionless in the chair. He knows entirely too much. Does he know that I’ve been seeing him in my nightmares since I was twelve years old?

“Like I said, as long as he does not hold Cardonaccum, Sir Laird does not concern me.” Talos straightened up and set his hands on the upholstered back of the chair.

“If I were to become your - “ I hesitated briefly, the stutter surging into my mouth. “- ally, Sir Laird will m- most certainly unseat me. He has a c- considerable number of men still at his disposal. Cardonaccum lost too many at Bluestone Tower.”

“That is why,” Talos nodded at the officer in the opposite chair, “Lieutenant Alorius and his century will stay here to augment your garrison.” I caught the startled glance the younger soldier shot his commander. To his credit, Titus schooled his expression back into a neutral cast and avoided my gaze.

“You would give me men and your support,” I said finally. “But exactly what d- do you want from me?”

“Vigilance.” Talos responded. “Cardonaccum straddles the western approach to An Sloc. It is the first pass through the Wrothgarians to open in the spring, and the last one to close in the fall.”

I considered his words. The western access to the Reaches. Talos has many enemies among the Reachmen, especially after that massacre at Sancre Tor. “Aren’t you concerned that I may betray such as you to my kinsmen?” I drained my tea and rose to my feet. “After all, not only did you kill my husband two days ago, but my father and brother died at your hands last winter.”

“That was regrettable,” Talos’s tone held none of that emotion. “But I stand by that decision. Just as I stand by my decision to seek an alliance with you, Lady Cora.” He moved to sit down. “I know you won’t betray me. Lord Wallace has taught you of honor too well.”

I moved to the library table where the teapot rested, surrounded by stacked cups. I refilled my own cup, then paused a moment. If I strike a deal with this man, can I count on the support of his men? Or will he pull them out at the most awkward time and leave me vulnerable? I kept my eyes on the table as I set out three cups and filled them with the tea. Does he want to ally with me because he thinks I’m malleable? Easily swayed? An ignorant barbarian? “Honor?” I repeated, picking up two cups and moving to the chairs where the two men sat.

Titus looked up at me in surprise as I held one to him. He glanced at Talos, who remained impassive. After a moment, Titus accepted the cup but did not drink right away. I turned away from him and held the second cup out to the general. He did not move to take it, and I lifted my brows at him. “D- do you think I would be so foolish to poison you?” My tone became acerbic. “With your l- legions but a few hours’ march away? For all I know, they could already be on the way here. You are more valuable to me alive than dead, General.”

Talos locked gazes with me, then reached to take the clay vessel. “My thanks, Lady Cora. My throat was becoming parched.”

I returned to the table and reclaimed my cup, as well as the last one. Robert accepted it with mild surprise and murmured thanks, and I moved to stand in front of the desk. “Honor, General?” I picked up the conversation. “What do women know of honor?”

“When it comes to honor,” Talos sipped at his tea, “women are just like men. Some understand the concept, others don’t, and still others choose to disregard it.” He met my gaze. “I’d like to think that you understand it and choose not to disregard it.”

I considered him a moment longer. I don’t want to commit to anything without fully understanding its ramifications. And I’m not certain Talos has been entirely forthcoming with me. But his legions are marching on us. He didn’t deny it. “Robert.”

“Yes, milady,” the castellan set his tea down on the desk.

“Escort General Talos and his men to the road. Let them return to their legions.”

Now it was Talos’s turn to show surprise. But he said nothing.

“But milady, you said -“ Robert, unlike Talos, did not keep silent.

“I know I said he was of more value to us alive. But his legions have standing orders.” I locked gazes with Talos. “If I were the General, I would have ordered my men to march on the castle if I did not return alive within a certain period of time.” By the flicker that passed through his hazel eyes, I knew I had guessed right. “I need time. And to get that time, I need to release General Talos.”

“Yes, milady,” Robert bowed curtly to me, then turned to the two soldiers. “You heard Lady Cora, gents. Time to go.”

“Very well,” Talos rose to his feet. “I presume that you will let me know of your decision soon. Perhaps after you have met with Sirs Laird, Rodric and Broc and notified them of your intentions.” He saluted me with the tea. “Thank you for your generous hospitality, Lady Cora.” He set the cup down on the small table between the chairs and turned for the door, Titus on his heels.

A/N: All of the quotations mentioned here are from an actual volume, Sun Tzu's The Art of War. This book is the guiding polestar for all of Lady Cora's strategic and tactical decisions as Lord of Cardonaccum. There are several excellent English translations of this ancient Chinese text which, I'm sure Acadian will verify, is still taught to military officers in leadership school.

Titus Alorius? You dug deep to get that name!

Lady Cora's nervousness, and that dastardly little stutter that keeps trying worm its way out, are quite understandable. Many people would folded up like a camp chair at the mere sight of the victorious General Talos.

Talos has brought up her quandary? It appears that he knows about the dissension in the ranks. Yep, he does. That damned man is well-informed.

“Lieutenant Alorius and his century will stay here to augment your garrison.”
I saw that coming. And not only will he help Cora remain on the throne, but also help her remember whose ally she is...

And now she wisely sends Talos on his way. Given the inevitability of his army marching on Cardonaccum, that was a good and necessary decision. Now Cora will have to decide what to do about Talos' proposal, and her rebellious servants. I cannot wait to see what happens next!

Fair dues...Loved your version of Tiber Septim...Fantastic stuff...What I've read in the books of the game, he always comes across less of the Mighty Thor/Odin style, nine feet tall and seven wide sort of thing, rather he's always seemed an average sort of chap who's simply very good at his job... ...

Absolutely loved the back and to between him and Cora...

And the quotes were excellent...

For something that you described as "Not as epic" at the start...This really is truly something special...

Loving it!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

I'm a little surprised he showed her that just before suggesting that some of his men remain as "reinforcements".

And at the end she sends them all away, as I'd have expected. Which may tip the hand of Laird to make his move prematurely?

Lady Cora struggles valiantly to maintain her composure. And from General Talos’ perspective, I’m sure her success in that regard seemed marginal. To readers however, Cora's internal doubts and challenge to control her stuttering quite endear her to us. She is stronger than she believes and getting stronger.

To deny the General would be to set Cardonaccum and all within to the torch, no doubt. Unless I misread Talos, I expect the offer he makes is genuine and he will make good on any promise he makes. Yet to accept his offer involves risks as well. I imagine she has little choice but to make a deal with Talos, but the devil can be in the details of how she does so. She is wise to manufacture the time she did to form her plans.

Cora sees a valuable lesson in action here: If the manual’s a good one, you may rest assured that any foe worth their salt has read it as well.


Nit: “Just as I stand my my decision to seek an alliance with you, Lady Cora.” - - Of course you meant ‘by’ here instead of the first ‘my’. That said, I'm envious of your tight quality control. The time and care you diligently put into editing each episode of this story really shows.

@SageRose: Thanks to Destri and his Interregnum I was able to find a terrific character in Titus Aloris. How can I resist taking on such a mysterious character? According to the Lore, he was one of the few people who reported directly to Emperor Tiber Septim, as Governor of the Reaches. I wanted to explore how he got to such an exalted position, both as governor as well as in Tiber's trust.

@McB: Thanks for your affirmation for this "not-as-epic" story as something truly special! As Lady Cora told me her story, I became fascinated by her ability to build such strong relationships with such a diverse group of people without resorting to sex. In her own small way, she expects and demands respect from those around her. As we shall see, those who don't give her the respect she deserves will meet rather grim consequences.

@ghastley: I think Talos was showing Lady Cora only some of his cards, namely that he is very well-informed and that she shouldn't waste her time trying to deceive him. Her only question is, is he trying to deceive her? As for Laird's reaction, we will see soon enough! (or maybe not soon enough . . . )

@Acadian: First, let me thank you, thank you, thank you for catching that nit! I'm flattered by your evaluation of my writing and editing. To be honest, the first twenty five chapters or so were written during NaNoWriMo and have not been edited all that much (just for typos). Thanks to all the lessons I learned writing OHDH, my writing has improved to the point where my first draft pretty much equals my final draft. While this story is strictly from Lady Cora's perspective, I suspect that General Talos sees first her courage and strength - she doesn't wilt like many a sheltered noble lady, but instead looks him in the eye and challenges him. In turn he is very careful not to underestimate her, as we shall see.

****************************
Chapter Nine

“I am doing rather well, thank you milady,” Rodric beamed from his chair. The splints were gone today, and pain was less obvious in his features. “Between your potions and Siné’s care, I am well on the mend.”

“Good,” I sat beside the hearth. “I’m certain your wife is happy about it as well.”

“Ach, she is torn between delight at my recovery and worry over our son Torquil.” Rodric waved his hand dismissively. “But I trust you, milady. You’ll not throw him to the wolves just yet, would you?”

“Not until he is capable enough to hold his own,” I answered with a smile. Rodric peered closer at me.

“You’ve made your decision, then.” It wasn’t a question. I merely nodded. “Good.”

Footsteps stomped down the corridor outside Rodric’s door. I rose to face the panel as it was flung back against the wall. Sir Laird held it back as rebounded from the plastered surface. His blue eyes were icy, his face reddened. Sir Broc appeared just behind the older man’s shoulder.

“Is it true?” He glared at me. “You let the prisoners go?”

“Prisoners?” I repeated. “No, they were merely guests. Not honored ones as you or Sir Rodric, but still guests nevertheless.”

His eyes narrowed as his lips pinched white. “Guests?” he roared. “Foolish woman! We had leverage! Now that’s gone!”

“Now, now,” Sir Broc gripped the older knight’s wide shoulder firmly. “I’m certain milady has her reasons and intended well, misguided as her decision may be.” He turned to me and bowed. “But all is not lost. Not yet.”

“Bullcrap!” Laird retorted, shaking Broc off and striding into the room. “This has gone too far!” He stopped before me, forcing me to tip my head back to maintain eye contact. “Lord Wallace should have never married a barefoot Witch from the Reaches! I warned him it would go ill for him. Warned him!” He shook his finger in my face. “And now I warn you, Witch, make another unwise decision, and I’ll boot you out myself!”

“You will?” I forced myself to speak slowly. “With what? I possess the Cirsium and Thistlethorn. I have the right to make the decisions for Cardonaccum, not you.”

“We’ll see how long you can hold this donjon without my men,” Laird grated between his teeth.

Make the decision now. Hold Cardonaccum, or give it up? Accept General Talos’s proposal, or leave my home? All the remaining doubt I had dissolved in the face of Laird’s anger, and fear stimulated my own rage. “I will n- not have unfaithful knights under the b- banner of the Red Thistle,” I kept my voice quiet. “Go ahead and leave, Sir Laird. But l- let me warn you, once you leave this donjon, there is no welcome for you or your sons here for as long as you shall live.”

Surprise warred with anger in his face as Laird spluttered, unable to think of a response. “I will be back!” he said finally. “Whether you welcome me or not, I shall take Cirsium and Thistlethorn for my sons!” He spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, shoving Broc to one side.

The younger knight watched him disappear through the doorway, then moved to close it. He turned to me and bowed again. “Such a pity to lose a strong man like that,” he remarked. “Have you given consideration to my own proposal?”

I forced myself to meet Broc’s gaze. The familiar revulsion raised bile in my throat, but I managed to swallow it back. “You have the same answer as Sir Laird,” I kept my tone even. “I will run C- Cardonaccum as Wallace’s widow, not as a wife to another man.”

The slightest flicker of cold calculation passed through his dark eyes, then Broc bowed again. “I propose a union only after an appropriate mourning period, of course,” he said. “After a year, perhaps, you will be lonely for a man in your bed?”

“Sir Broc!” Rodric’s voice exploded from the chair. “That’s enough of your impertinence!”

Broc’s brows rose at Rodric’s words. “Impertinence? Seems to me that milady rather favors impertinence. After all, she granted audience to General Talos this morning. He certainly was impertinent to her two days ago. And what was his reward? His freedom?” Now he smiled, the smile of the fox in the chicken coop. “If it please milady, I’ll stay. After all, women are entitled to change their minds, aren’t they?”

I considered him a moment longer. He doesn’t see me as being strong enough to fill Wallace’s role. What can I say to shake him of this odious misconception of his? “True, I might ch- change my mind about you, Sir Broc,” I said finally. His eyes gleamed in avarice. “I might d- decide that you do not have any place here at Cardonaccum.” The smile fled his face. “If I do, I’ll escort you to the borders myself and let the Legions take care of you.”

Now his eyes narrowed at me. “What did General Talos say to you?” he demanded. “You would become his doxy?”

“Enough!” Rodric shot to his feet, then wobbled as his injured knee failed him. I caught him in time to ease him back into his chair.

“Be at ease,” I whispered to him. “Let Sir Broc show his t- true colors now.” As he muttered to himself, I straightened up and faced Broc again. “Be careful what you say, Sir Broc,” I warned him. “I can have you executed for speaking of treason.”

“And you haven’t already spoken treason yourself?” Broc’s expression turned serious. “Meeting with the enemy and letting him go, what do you call that?”

“Survival,” I answered simply. We stared at each other for long seconds.

“Milady!” A breathless young boy, clumsy in the leather armor of the thistlemen, burst through the door. He stopped in the center of the room and his eyes scanned the chamber. When his gaze fell on me, he stumbled to stand before me. “Robert sent me -"

“Easy, catch your breath first,” I said, taking his elbow when the youngster wobbled on his feet. When he steadied, I squeezed his arm. “Better?”

“Yes, milady,” he answered. Taking another deep breath, he met my eyes. “General Talos is on the march. The Legions are surrounding the castle!”

“Really?” I asked. The man certainly wasted no time. And what of Laird? Will he leave the safety of the donjon? “Where is Robert?”

“I left him in the bailey,” the boy responded. “I - I think he was heading for the gate towers.”

“Go b- back to him,” I turned him toward the door. “Tell Robert I’ll be along shortly.”

“Yes, milady!” He was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

I turned to look at Broc. Consternation reigned in his face as he considered the implications of the runner’s announcement. “I think this discussion is over, Sir Broc. Are you going to c- call your men to the walls?”

He shook himself and bowed to me. Without a word he was gone in a swirl of purple cloak. Now I returned to Rodric, who was already struggling to rise again. “You need to rest, Sir Rodric,” I said, pressing him back into his chair. “I’ll have your c- captain sent to you for orders.”

He collapsed back with a groan. “Is that all you’ll let me do?” he groaned. “I guess that’s all I’m good for!”

I smiled reassuringly at him, then turned and left the room.

As I made my way down to the great hall, I encountered Padriac, Rodric’s captain, on the stairs. He stepped to the edge to let me by. I stopped a few steps above him so our eyes were level. “Captain,” I brought his attention up to me. “Sir Rodric has need of you.”

“Yes, milady,” he nodded deferentially. “I am already on my way to him.”

“Good,” I leaned against the wall to give him room to pass. “Go, don’t let me d- delay you.” With another bow he was past me without a word.

Instead of running out into the courtyard to join Robert, I ran to the chapel instead. There I had placed Cirsium and Thistlethorn in Arkay’s care. Cirsium is too big and heavy for me, but I can carry Thistlethorn on my back. I will need all the authority I can get.

Onchu appeared out of the shadows as I approached the memorial niche where the names of past Lords were carved. One part of my mind noted the empty tablet that rested at the end of the lowest row. Waiting for Wallace’s name. Ignoring Onchu for the moment, I ran my gaze over the other names already carved: Cedric. Blane. Malcom. Lachlan. Ewan. Please give me your blessings as I try to take Wallace’s place. My hands reached for the great sword resting on its rack beneath the shield.

“What do you think you are doing, Witch?” Onchu’s voice arrested my actions. I glanced over my shoulder at him.

“Cardonaccum is surrounded by the Legions,” I answered more curtly than I intended. “A strong leader is n- needed at this time.”

“Laird is that leader!” Onchu protested, moving to block me from the memorial niche. He gasped in surprise when I shoved him back. As he staggered to keep his balance, I grasped the scabbarded sword and lowered it from its hooks. The leather baldric swung from the sheath as I stepped back. Swiftly I slung it over my left shoulder and turned to face the spluttering priest.

“Arkay is about b- balance, isn’t it?” I asked him. “Well, Wallace and I have balanced each other for a long time. I intend to keep that balance in his memory and honor. And if you t- try to get in my way, you shall find yourself administering to the wild men in some highland kirk.”

As he stared at me in stunned shock, I gathered my long skirts to clear them from my bare feet and ran for the great hall. Thistlethorn bumped against my back, its weight pulling against my left shoulder. The fat priest started after me, but I easily outran him.

When I re-emerged in the great hall, Niall turned from the gathered castle folk. “Milady!” he called to me across the chamber. I detoured my run for the exterior toward him. “What are your orders for us?”

“Get the m- medical supplies ready,” I answered. “And fill every available container with water. If they attack us with incendiaries, we need to be r- ready to put any fires out.” I glanced around at the folk - mostly women, young children and old men. “I will send more orders to you as soon as I’ve made a f- full assessment of the situation.”

“Yes, milady.” Under the circumstances the normally formal Niall gave me a mere nod of acknowledgement instead of his usual deferential bow. I didn’t delay as he turned and began directing his charges. His light tenor voice filled the great hall as I ran for the door.

Captain Padriac was there ahead of me. He saw my approach and paused long enough to hold the great door open for me. I thanked him under my breath as we moved through together. Then we separated, he for his men quartered in the castle barracks, and I for the gate towers.

I hiked up my skirts to my knees and took the steps two at a time. Men have it so much easier, being able to wear trous! If they only knew how much work running in skirts entailed, they’d have more respect for us! I was completely out of breath by the time I reached the top of the walls. Robert turned and caught my gaze. He left the cluster of officers and strode to meet me.

“One of the outposts on the moor behind us reported movement in the hills,” he spoke curtly, falling into step beside me as I headed for the door accessing the upper levels of the nearest gate tower. “Our lookouts saw more movement in the woods down the valley,” he waved toward the road that led down from the castle through the bottom of the steep-sided defile. “I’ve ordered the crick gate lowered, so our moat should fill within a short period of time.”

I nodded. The castle sat astride a small fast-flowing stream that ran down from the Wrothgarians. Its flow was supplemented by a spring that rose within the castle walls and emptied into the channel. It provided a constant source of water for us. While besieging forces could try to dam the stream above the castle, any attempts to deprive us of water would be unsuccessful. And poisoning the stream would not affect us, since part of our defensive ramparts included a dry moat around all four sides of the castle which could be backfilled with water if we dammed the stream above the spring. Because the crick gate was within the bailey, it was inaccessible to the enemy.

Hours of study with Wallace and a tutor he had provided for me in the early years of our marriage had provided me with all the information I needed to make decisions regarding the castle defenses. The crick gate had been a modification added after I pointed out one weakness - that of poisoning our water supply from upstream.

The spring itself rose from the bowels of the donjon, which protected it from contamination from corpses of animals and others catapulted over the walls. Wallace had discussed its inviolability with me. The only way our water supply could be compromised would be from within. As long as we had no agents working for General Talos, we could withstand his forces from within the walls for a prolonged time.

But the things Talos said to me this morning tells me he has ears and eyes within these walls. I’d have to be vigilant for enemy activity within as well as without. Yet I can’t be too paranoid. He wanted me to know he has agents inside my walls - does he want to sow distrust among us? I can’t let it reach that point. Laird and Onchu will be problematic, whether or not they’re working for Talos. If they ever realize just how much Talos knows, they’ll be creating dissent among the castle folk. I can’t let them know. Whom can I trust? Robert? I need his experience and combat knowledge, as I’m not as familiar with tactics as I am with strategy. Rodric? He’s a good man according to Wallace, but not particularly bright when it comes to anything other than combat.

I shook myself from my frantic thoughts and refocused on Robert’s voice. “- and Sir Laird is mobilizing his men.”

“What?” I snapped myself into focus. “M- mobilizing for what?”

“I’m not certain how he knew before the outpost runner came in the gates, but Sir Laird is calling his men together.” Robert peered at me. “Or was that because of something you said?”

******************
A/N: For Julian's fans, I've added a new thread to my sub forum! The first post is up in Life Beyond Main Quest!

Well at least Sir Rod is on the mend, that is one piece of good news for Lady Cora.

So here is the expected showdown with Sir Lard. The beginning of it at least. I expect that he will use force to make himself Lord of Cardonaccum, and very soon.

Wow, and Broc is really arrogant enough to follow that display by throwing his own penis in the ring, again. As I expected, Cora cut off his, expectations...

Talos returned rather quickly! Still, I do not think he is going to attack. That would be pointless after his proposal. Unless Lady Cora turns him down. OTOH, if Sir Laird is mobilizing his men, then Lady Cora might just appreciate having that nice young Titus Alorius and his century around.

I would also like to say that I like that your main character is a person with a stutter. That is not something one often sees in fiction, and find it a welcome change. Kazaera and were recently talking about that in fact.

I barely get a free moment this past week, and you put up two chapter? Gah, I have to ready my double-comments for Kaz and SubRosa as well. It's gonna be another long week...

Right, let's take this in order.

You have succeeded in an astounding fashion in showing just how much awesomesauce can be collected from the mere sweat of Talos Stormcrown. (Wait for it.) The man inhales the surrounding and exhales leadership and change and his own reality. Which, given that Thu'um is literally one's ability to shout reality into a more pleasing form, is about right.

He's educated, he's prepared, he's brilliant, and he knows how to appeal to honor and reason without coming across as a phony. Oh, and he's polite to a fault and witty with his remarks about thirst. I find his entire presence awe-inspiring, and would devote this entire post to him but for one fact.

Cora holds her own, like a waking she-wolf. (Stupid censorship would filter out boss-b^!#&)

Seriously, I am becoming more impressed with her with every entry you put up. Cora doesn't let on just how much she understands about the good general's literary references, but is clearly working through each phrase to understand just what Talos is telling her without actually saying. She keeps up in their little dance like a trained ballerina, and manages to both mollify and delay her guest.

And then she shows that she knows what Talos knows what she knows by letting him go since they both know the Legion has its orders.

Which brings us to the new installment. Laird declares his open rebellion, and Broc schemes. Poorly, at that.

But that's not important. What is important is that the Legions are coming, the Legions are Coming! By land, this time, so one lantern in the bell tower. Cora clearly understands the mantle of leadership, as her first thoughts and race to the chapel reflect. You do this part so well (I would have preferred to see the priest of Arkay undergo a much more personal experience with his god, but then again there's always next time) and there's not much I can add.

I do want to ask, however, just how heavy is that sword? Are we talking William Wallace levels of brawny might here?



That's just hilarious. A good way to end it. Robert is clearly now suspicious of something. Don't hope it's too much to ask that he's armed with a longbow by chance?






Now. DRAGON OF THE NORTH!!! (What, thought I'd forgotten?)

Excellent chapter!!... ...

Loved the way Cora deflected all of her annoyances...Brilliantly done...

I thought that bit in the chapel with Onchu was brilliant... ...

So, Talos turns up just in time so it seems...

Help or hindrance?...We shall see...

Brilliant stuff...

Nicely done...

*Applauds heartily*...

OK, she's qualified, if we didn't already know.

One wonders if Talos' actions triggered Laird's or the other way round. And if the next instalment will reveal the answer.

Those two impertinent knights are not what Cora needs! And the Pillsbury Priest of Arkay is worse than useless.

Barefoot Witch indeed! I’m at all sure that is an insult, but there is little doubt that Cora’s detractors intend it as such. Yet, she perseveres. In fact, I can see a time in her realm when folks start intentionally stuttering to emulate what is becoming her very own and effective leadership style. Sort of like the oft cited, but unproven, story of the Castilian lisp.

The image of her running with skirts hiked up, mighty great sword thumping her rump, was a joy to read!

Nice segment on the castle’s defenses. I see Wallace did not neglect Cora’s castle engineering training. I love that he is still very much a presence – in a good and inspirational way.

It feels like the enemy is at the gate. Of course, it is unclear at this point under which banner they march, and even which side of the gate harbors the true enemy.

Oooh! So Laird is... leaving. We hope (?). Or maybe going to try and fight off Talos' troops. Or maybe going to try to rebel. Let's see! In the meanwhile, Broc continues to be disgusting and I ever-so-strongly hope that Cora punts him off a cliff to the Talosians. :/ IDK, I just see him as the sort who'd backstab Cora when she's not expecting it once he works out she is not going to submit to his Manly Authority ™, or try to force her to submit. In the meantime, I was expecting something like Talos' offer, but... man. He killed her father, brother and husband, and now he wants her to be his ally? I expect Cora to agree in the end, because it's best for her and best for her people and she's a very sensible sort, but talk about galling!

I also love the line about the crick gate. Oh, Cora.

And yep, I am quite keen to see a stuttering character! I... will admit that my first reaction when you mentioned Cora's stutter was to cringe, because you seemed to be going the "she stuttered due to shyness/lack of confidence but then she gained confidence and it went away/someone taught her an easy way to manage it and now she doesn't stutter anymore" route. I see these a lot in fiction, and it's frustrating because it doesn't reflect how a stutter actually works in real life *and* creates pernicious stereotypes that dog the footsteps of those of us who do stutter. So I'm glad to see that instead, you seem to be implying that she learned techniques to control it, but they take some degree of concentration and if she's stressed or distracted or very emotional the stutter crops up again. That's pretty much my experience of what successful speech therapy looks like (not that it ever stayed successful for me /o\), so it comes across as her having learned a technique that works for her instead of her having found the Magical Cure ™ which only exists in fiction. And there are really far too few realistic stuttering characters out there.

Anyway! Your installments continue to be awesome, and I am looking forward to how things develop.

@SageRose: Yes, Sir Laird and Onchu are now in open rebellion against Lady Cora. Sir Broc isn't that far behind, but he's a sly one (or thinks he is) and will bide his time. There will be more Titus Alorius coming up! I loved him in Destri's Interregnum and thought I would borrow him here. He is not yet Captain, but will be by the end of the story! I'm glad that you liked Cora's stutter. She's so competent, but when people meet her at first, they don't see the woman for that impediment.

@BamBam: So you liked how Lady Cora stood up to the mighty, awe-inspiring General Talos, the ULTIMATE DRAGONBORN OF ALL TIME AND ALL UNIVERSES!!! It makes me very happy because if they are going to have respect for each other, they have to see each other as equals. Talos didn't come to this meeting unprepared, as we have seen. And Lady Cora may be barefooted, but she certainly isn't flatfooted!

@McB: Onchu is one of those characters that could easily be thrown away, but we will see later (much later) that he has his own agenda. But not without some humor at his expense!

@ghastley: I hope it will be clarified that Laird's actions are in response to the news that the Legion is surrounding Cardonaccum. I rather see him as a rat, and we know what rats do when the ship begins to sink. Not that I have anything against rats, mind you - they're intelligent, cunning and sly, highly adaptable and extremely sociable under the right circumstances. But the circumstances aren't ideal for Laird, so we are seeing the worst a rat can be.

@Acadian: Pillsbury Priest of Arkay indeed! This priest is one heck of a hypocrite, if you ask me - preaching about Arkay's balance but failing to balance his calorie intake with his calories burned! Yes, the term Barefoot Witch can be used in a derogatory manner, but Lady Cora chooses to ignore any such implications. She has learned the hard way not to be ashamed, as we will see in a few more chapters (say, about a month from now). Even though Wallace dies at the very beginning of this story, he casts a very long shadow over Lady Cora's life just because of the kind of man he was. Though theirs was an arranged marriage, I really wanted to show the sort of man Lady Cora fell passionately in love with. Not to worry, she will fall in love again, but the next Mr. Right will have size 11EEE shoes to fill!

@Kaz: I think you are quite right about Sir Broc - he is the backstabbing sort when he doesn't get his way. We will find out in a few months just how much so. Yes, I wanted to start the story off with a quandary - does she trust this man General Talos or not? Galling? Maybe. But practical? Yes, just what I would expect of both.

I'm quite surprised that the line about the crick gate got so many people's attention. It really shows how smart she is, and how quickly she put her access to Wallace's library to good use. I can only imagine Wallace's pride and delight when she pointed out that sole weakness to him and suggested a solution to a problem not yet recognize. I feel that was the moment when he knew he had made the right choice in marrying her in spite of the age difference and her background.

Better yet, I am happy that several people have commented on Lady Cora's stuttering. It is fairly common, and I know many very intelligent folks suffer from it. It is one of those things that gets in the way of living life to the fullest. I love writing characters who must deal with issues like this. If you remember, Julian is an alcoholic and an addict who started her story with debilitating injuries. The injuries healed, but not her addiction. It is still there. And Lady Cora is not the first stutterer I've written - she is the second. It's a challenge to write her dialogue, but it gets easier because I can hear her voice (and see her speak) so clearly. So Kaz and SubRosa, don't worry, Lady Cora will always stutter. It will be worse at times, and it will be almost invisible at other times. I have a coworker who stutters, and he is incredibly intelligent and smart and funny and just a nice guy all around. We started working at the Apple Store at the same time, so we have that basis to our friendship. He has been kind enough to share his experiences and struggles with his stuttering so I can write Lady Cora more realistically. It is thanks to him that her speech impediment just leaps off the page.

The story so far: Lady Cora her knights of her decision to release Talos back to his troops. They reacted pretty much as expected, Laird and Onchu (the Pillsbury Priest of Arkay - thanks Acadian!) with overt outrage, Broc with more covert slyness, and Rodric with unwavering support. Their rather spirited discussion is cut short by the news that the Legion is on the move.

****************************
Chapter Ten

“Not here,” I glanced around at the men ranged along the parapet.

Robert understood. “Through here,” he opened the door into the gate tower for me. Inside, the tower chamber was empty at the moment, benches overturned in the rush to man the walls. Soft light fell into the room from slot windows that overlooked the approach to the castle. I moved to one of those beams of light and turned to face Robert, letting my skirts fall to the floor.

The castellan stood in the light from the adjacent slit and regarded me silently. I took a deep breath and decided to take the plunge. “Robert, have you told anyone of what was s- said in the study this morning?”

His brows rose at the question. “Of course not, milady!” His exclamation did much to ease my worry. “Lord Wallace trusted me for my discretion, and I wish you would trust me for the same reason.”

“I know my husband t- trusted you deeply,” I kept my voice even. “H- he also trusted Sir Laird and Onchu, and you can see how much value that has for me now th- that I stand alone.”

“Stand alone?” Robert repeated. He shook his shaggy head furiously. “Never! Not as long as I live!” His scowl softened and he turned to peer through the slot window. I kept my eyes on his profile. “I see your point, milady,” he said finally. “But I’ll have you know that Lord Wallace swore me to your service when I came back from Skyrim two years ago.”

I stared at him. “Milord d- did what?”

He glanced sidelong at me. “Milord knew you would survive him. He wanted to be certain you had the support you needed, especially against Sir Laird and Onchu. They were against the marriage from the beginning. It was the only time he disregarded their advice.” He turned his gaze back outward, but not before I saw a slight glimmer in his eyes. “He felt they would oust you once he was gone, and he was afraid of what would happen to Cardonaccum if that happened.”

For several long breaths I considered Robert. He’s always been at my side since he came back. Other than Wallace, he’s the one man I trust the most. Even more than Niall. So why doubt him now, when I most need him? “Very well, R- Robert,” I sighed. “I’m glad to have you as my s- support.” I stepped toward him and laid my hand on his forearm. “And I’m glad of your discretion. Now I need your advice.”

Robert turned to face me, the pale light turning his eyes into sapphire as he gazed down at me. “What is it?”

“Sir Laird, h- how best to handle him,” I said. “C- can I afford to lose him? His men? I’m afraid I’ve alienated h- him just now.”

“What happened?” Robert asked. “What was said in Sir Rodric’s room?”

I told him all of it. He was silent, his eyes distant, as he listened. When I finished, he sighed. “So it’s Sir Broc, too? I never did like that young man.” He focused on me and turned brisk. “Well, you did nothing to alienate Sir Laird or Onchu - they were already set against you. They were just biding their time, especially as you bore no heir to milord.” He placed one large hand on the edge of the slot window and braced himself on it, gazing outward again. “Sir Laird needs to realize that not all women are easily manipulated like his wife Edine, or his mother. Not all women are vacuous and ignorant of more serious matters. He does need to be reminded that it was a woman who led the overthrow of the Ayleids in Cyrodiil, a woman who rules in Sentinel, and in many other places besides. Ach, but he’s stubborn!” He shook his head bemusedly.

“So his departure from C- Cardonaccum is inevitable?” I asked. “Nothing to do with what I said or how I said it?”

“I wasn’t there,” Robert shrugged. “So I can’t really say for certain. But I can speak to Sir Rodric when things are a little calmer, and get his side of things. He isn’t the brightest knife in the drawer,” his wry glance made me chuckle before I could stifle it, “but he is an excellent judge of character, and another good man you can trust as well.”

“Is he discreet?” I asked.

Robert ran his fingers through his beard thoughtfully. “For the most part, yes,” he said finally. “But in the heat of the moment, he may let slip something better left unsaid.” He nodded to himself as if making an unspoken decision. “I’ll speak to Sir Rodric, then I’ll be better able to answer your question. But knowing Sir Laird as I do, I don’t doubt that his mind was already made up before you spoke to him. He has his heart set on the Cardonaccum seat, and will seek to achieve it one way or another.” His gaze flickered at the ruby pommel protruding above my left shoulder. “’Tis a wise decision to take Thistlethorn,” he added. “Else Sir Laird could claim it, and the right to rule in Lord Wallace’s place.”

“H- he would dare, wouldn’t he?” I gritted my teeth at the thought. “I c- couldn’t bring Cirsium, though.”

“I think Thistlethorn’s the more important emblem,” Robert responded. I nodded and moved back to the window. I tried to peer out, but couldn’t see much more than the road below the castle. “Let’s go up top, milady,” Robert added. “You can see more from up there.”

He went up the ladder first. I tucked my skirts into the lower end of the baldric where it attached to Thistlethorn’s scabbard and followed. Robert lent me his hand at the top and steadied me on the tower roof until I had my bearings.

He was right, the view was much more expansive. Not only could I see the road with the little stream beside it below the castle, but also the upland moors behind us. The foothills of the Wrothgarians marched along our left shoulder a few miles away, and on our right, the land gradually sloped away to the slightest hint of a deep blue on the western horizon. In the woods lining the dean below, I could see glimmers of sun on steel among the bare branches of late fall. More appeared along the slopes of the foothills, and I could see the bright red splashes of the Legion banners.

“How far away are they?” I asked.

“About five miles off,” Robert replied. He pointed out the trees edging the western side of the steep-sided valley. “They’ve got some men up there on the heights.”

“Where is the opposite end?” I turned in place, scanning the horizon to the west.

“The line runs from there,” he indicated the steel shimmers in the trees along the western rim of the dean, “down along the road,” he waved his hand toward where the path disappeared around a bend in the narrow valley, “and up the east side in the foothills there,” he pointed out the movement along the lower slopes of the mountain range to our left. His indicating finger stopped at a point north of the castle, where our little crick came down out of the hills.

“So there’s nothing to stop them from c- completely surrounding us,” I said. “This is what General Talos meant when he said we didn’t have t- time.”

“So even though you let him go, they’re still moving against us,” Robert murmured quietly. I hid my flinch at his mild rebuke.

“General Talos has read the s- same books I have,” I answered. “‘- by assuming a defensive posture, strength will be more than adequate, whereas in offensive actions it would be inadequate.'” Bemusement flickered through Robert’s eyes. “We do not h- have the numbers he does, but we have the defensive c- configurations right here,” I laid my hands on the rough stone of the tower parapet. “He knows it will c- cost him more to try and take Cardonaccum from us.”

“True,” Robert nodded in agreement. I peered over the edge of the walls at the deep moat that completely surrounded the castle. Here where the bailey walls approached the edge of the bluffs, the moat pressed close to the stone foundations. The drawbridge was drawn up, severing the road below from the castle gates. When the moat was dry, the crick flowed out from the castle beneath the drawbridge and crossed the ditch to the stone-reinforced outer bank. A small culvert at the base of the moat let the crick flow out. However, even that was closed off, effectively damming the outflow from the spring. The stone above it stopped just below the top of the adjacent bank, providing a place for the water to spill over and prevent the moat from flooding the castle.

Already I could see water accumulating in the ditch, though it had not yet reached the spillover point. “That was good thinking on your part, to s- start filling the moat, Robert.”

“Aye, I’m certain the legionaries would think twice about trying to swim with their tin suits on!” He turned and indicated the walls to either side of the paired gate towers and those surrounding the donjon. “All of our thistlemen are at their stations, and Enrick has already called up every watch of his men that are able to fight.” Now he turned to me. “I would suggest you determine the chain of command here. It’s been so long since Cardonaccum was besieged -“

“Yes, of course,” I answered. “Where is Enrick?”

“I asked him to join me above the gates,” Robert walked to the parapet facing the opposing gate tower. He glanced over the edge. “Yes, he’s waiting for me.” He turned back to me. “Shall we head down?”

“Yes, of course, Robert.” I moved back to the open trapdoor. “After you.”

“Naturally,” Robert let himself through the trapdoor. Going down the slanted ladder was easier than climbing up, and I didn’t need his assistance at the bottom. We went out onto the stone arch over the gates together.

Captain Enrick turned as we approached him. His face beneath his helm was grim as he nodded courteously to me. “Milady.”

“I understand you answered t- to Lord Wallace in the field,” I said to him. He nodded silently. “That makes you more or less equal in rank t- to Robert, no?” Again a curt nod. “But the donjon and bailey of C- Cardonaccum is Robert’s responsibility. And he has more experience in combat than I do.” I paused, my gaze on Enrick.

“I understand, milady,” he said after a moment. “Concerning the defense of the castle, you want me to report to Robert, and to take orders from him.”

“And no one else but myself,” I finished, pleased with his understanding of the situation. “I am th- the only person with the authority to c- counteract Robert’s orders.”

“Understood,” Enrick responded, nodding deferentially to Robert. I could see the slightest hint of doubt in his eyes as he returned his gaze to me.

“I trust Robert implicitly,” I smiled up at the experienced captain. “And I know better than to t- tell him how to do his job. I doubt that I’ll have to c- contravene his orders, Captain.”

Relief moved through Enrick’s eyes at my words, and he permitted himself a small smile. “As you will, milady.” He bowed to me and turned to Robert. “My men are at your disposal, Robert Whitearm.”

“Good,” Robert clasped Enrick’s shoulder firmly. “How many do you have available?”

“A little more than one hundred,” Enrick answered.

Robert tipped his head back as he muttered to himself. “Let’s see, I have fifty on the walls - there’s room for -“ He dropped his gaze back to Enrick. “Put half of your men up on the walls - have them man the north bailey and tell my thistlemen to fall back to the east and west walls.”

“And the rest, sir?” Enrick straightened up beneath Robert’s hand, ready to move.

“Hold them in the bailey proper as reserve.”

“Yes sir!” Enrick’s response was as smartly executed as his departure. As he left, another figure appeared from the western gate tower.

I recognized Captain Padriac as he approached me. When he paused a few feet away, I nodded at him.

“Sir Rodric ordered me to place his men at your disposal, milady.” He seemed wary, and I sensed that he doubted my ability to lead fighting men through a siege.

“I shall have to th- thank him,” I answered. “I will place you under Robert’s command. He is in charge of the defense of C- Cardonaccum.” As with Enrick, I saw relief in Padriac’s stoic face and hid my smile. I turned back to Robert. “I shall leave you to get back to work, Robert. R- remember, I trust you.”

“As I you, milady,” Robert bowed to me. With a final nod to Captain Padriac, I turned and returned to the eastern gate tower.

When I saw your comment about 11EEE shoes all I could think were hex color codes. Goddess I am such a nerd...

I see Wallace expected this to happen. Well, except for the complication of Talos I am sure. He obviously put his trust in the right man, in the form of Robert, not to mention his distrust in Laird as well.

You gave us a nice description of the area surrounding Cardonaccum, and the distant approach of Talos' army. It also makes it even more clear why Talos wants the castle. It is in a key position, one he will need if he is going to conquer and hold eastern High Rock.

And finally it is good to see Lady Cora putting things in order and preparing the defense of the castle after the treachery of Laird and Broc was revealed.

I like that Robert...He's a good man that one...Yes... ...

Proper brilliance...I loved the way that he effectively re-made his pledge to protect Cora, though this time to her face... ...*Applauds that man*...

Loved the way that the two Captains' initial worries faded when they realised that it was essentially Robert in charge...That was cool...

I do really like Cora...She's epic!...

Loved the description of the land around the place...And that whole thing with the moat...So vivid...Makes me wish I was there... ...Well, to visit...Years after the fighting...Now that it's in the hands of the National Trust™... ...

Nah, truly beautiful sounding place... ...

Amazing stuff...

Love it!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

So Cora's established that she's in charge of strategy, and she's delegated the tactical to Robert. An appropriate disposition, that lets her concentrate on playing chess with Talos.

One hopes that Laird will find himself trapped in between, with Broc at his side.

And the influence of Lord Wallace continues to exert itself in ways even previously unknown to Lady Cora.

Robert is a gem here! And Cora is wise to arrange things as she has. Robert clearly has a fine tactical reputation and Cora’s well-considered endorsement of him bolsters her own authority. Seems like Cardonaccum is well prepared. Talos’ intent, as well as that of Laird and Broc, remains unclear however.

You continue to give priority to character development, even as you nicely move the story along. Very enjoyable.

’I tucked my skirts into the lower end of the baldric where it attached to Thistlethorn’s scabbard and followed.’ - - I quite liked the use of ‘baldric’ here. It is easy to overdo the use of nearly forgotten medieval terms relating to castles/weaponry/armor, but you are perfectly balancing the spice and flavor they provide vs distracting your readers with trips to the dictionary/google. Perfectly done, I say. I went through the same thought processes I expect you did when I, on several times, used the term ‘guige’ as the leather strap used to secure a shield to the back when not in use.

Wait, I'm all caught up? Impossible!

Ahem, we now have the promise of some interesting siege action. Good news for the thistlemen is that they are behind fortifications. And while this might sound rather callous, the recent losses they took on the battlefield has left more food for everyone enabling them to hold out longer. Finally, the approaching winter puts a limit on how long Talos can keep his army camped outside the castle.

The bad news is that the thistlemen aren't united and the sanctimonious priest, ole 'tis my right by blood' and the last guy whose sole argument seems to be 'ain't I handsome?' can really mess things up.

I like how Cora knows the strengths of herself and her allies and delegates accordingly. And the late lord seemed almost prescient. Given his thoughts that are now revealed, I guess he didn't move against the usurpers before because he needed their help and resources more than he could do without them at the time.

It was also interesting for me to note that the siege continued despite Talos having been left free. This could mean two things. Either he's commenced the siege anyhow for certain reasons (and I can actually think of a few), or communication lag is now working against him where he'd earlier used it as a dead man's switch.

Considering that the story takes place in a relatively low-magic environment, I'm not going to rule out communication lag setting things in motion that can't be stopped.

@SubRosa: Yes, Wallace anticipated that Lady Cora would experience resistance to the idea of her becoming Lord of Cardonaccum after his passing. Yet he chose her as his successor, though apparently he thought he had some time to make this clear to his knights. Not that it would have changed anything with Sirs Laird and Broc, or with the Pillsbury Priest of Arkay Onchu. We will see (eventually, at this posting rate!) that General Talos wants Cardonaccum (and Lady Cora) as his ally for more than just its strategic geographic location . . .

@McB: Yes, Cardonaccum sounds like it should be on the National Register of Historic Places (the U.S. version of the National Trust)! I would like to visit it with you at such a time! As for Robert, he holds a special place in my heart just for being the big, loyal, shaggy bear of a Nord that he is!

ghastley: Sir Laird will find that he is stuck between a rock and a hard place soon enough . . .

Acadian: Yes, Lady Cora has a gem in Robert our castellan. He is rock solid, dependable, reliable, and pretty smart up top as well as handy with his weapons. He continues to be her strongest support through this challenging time.

Mr. Stratocumulus: Congratulations on catching up! You should find this leisurely pace fairly easy to keep up with, even if you miss a week or two. As for why Lord Wallace didn't get rid of Sirs Laird and Broc, let's just say that politics has a way of - umm - getting in the way. As for the presence of magic in this story, it's there, but quite low-key. We will learn why Lady Cora does not use magic so much. As for General Talos moving his men in position, let's just say that he is comfortable with ambiguous situations, and is well-prepared for whichever way Lady Cora is going to jump, and he doesn't mind letting her know that he is ready for anything.

The story so far: General Talos moved his men into position to surround the castle from a distance. Lady Cora has placed Cardonaccum on siege footing to prepare for the worst. She also delegates the tactical decisions to Castellan Robert, whom Captains Enrick and Padriac both trust.

***************************************
Chapter Eleven

Siné finished her report on an encouraging note. “We’ve replaced the potions that were lost on the battlefield.” She smiled calmly at me. Eight years older than me, Siné was always quiet, yet competent as the chapel healer. She did not engage in the same bluster as Onchu, nor did she ever berate me for being born a Witch. Her manner toward me remained just the same since Wallace’s death, a minor fact that I somehow found reassuring.

“Thank you very much, Siné,” I answered. “H- how is Sir Rodric doing?”

“Being very difficult,” she replied wryly. “The idea of forced rest when we are besieged does not sit well with him.”

“I’ll th- threaten to chain him to his bed if he doesn’t follow your orders,” I offered in the same vein. She chuckled before nodding to me and walking away. I turned toward the kitchens. While headed to the kitchens to check on Machara, I had encountered Siné on her way to the cellars, where she maintained an alchemy lab and created her healing potions.

Chaos greeted me as I entered the kitchen. Machara berated two teenaged boys over their treatment of a side of mutton. She paused long enough to scold one of the girls for letting the bread burn in the oven before turning back to the amateur butchers. I eyed the meat and thought it looked acceptable, but kept silent as the burly cook wound down. When she finally released the boys back to their tasks, she cast a baleful glare around the kitchen.

Her ire disappeared when she saw me, however. Wiping her hands on her apron, she hurried up to me and bobbed a greeting. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, milady,” she exclaimed, pushing flaxen tendrils from her flushed face with the back of her right hand. Her cheeks puffed as she blew between pursed lips. “You’d be wanting to tell me what you want for dinner, no?”

“To tell you the truth, Machara,” I had to admit, somewhat ruefully, “I’ve been somewhat remiss in my duties. I haven’t given a th- thought to eating.” I moved past her into the center of the immense chamber. “How are you feeding the fighting soldiers?”

“Hot and hearty, just the way they fight!” Machara responded as she followed me. She gestured toward the two young butchers, chopping up the mutton on a broad table scarred by past battles with cleavers. “Mutton stew with mirepoix and gravy. Siné’s recipe - fennel seeds and peony seeds ground together and simmered in strong tea to keep them awake on watch. Plenty of bread and cheese!” Her eyes shifted back to the bread ovens against the far wall. “Conny! Didn’t I tell you to stop burning the bread!”

As far as I could tell, the bread the poor girl was pulling out of one of the ovens was perfectly golden. It’s just Machara’s way of getting things done. All of these people are used to her ways. “Then I’ll h- have what the men are having, Machara,” I diverted her away from her latest victim. “No need to make anything special for me.”

“But milady, all that’s so common!”

“We’re under siege, Machara,” I responded, raising my voice to be heard above the commotion. Everyone paused in their frantic activity and stared at us. Now’s the time to bond everyone together. “The most important people in this castle r- right now are those men standing up on the walls,” I continued so everyone heard me. “It’s cold and wet out there. If it isn’t raining, there’s frost falling. If the temperature drops any further, they’ll be shivering in the snow while the rest of us are t- tucked away inside this warm donjon. It’s up to all of us to support those men, for without their strong arms and brave hearts, we’ll have more important things to worry about th- than what’s an appropriate dinner for a barefoot Witch.”

“Of course, milady!” Machara exclaimed, bobbing her head in vigorous agreement. Suddenly she stopped and shot a glare around the chamber. The noise level increased as her underlings hurriedly returned to their labors.

I turned back to the cook. “An army travels on its s- stomach,” I lowered my voice so only she heard. “Feed our men so well that those Legions out there start thinking about defecting to us for your food!”

Machara giggled, a surprisingly girlish response from such a buxom woman. “That I can do, milady!”

I gave her a smile before I left her domains.

By the time I returned to the great hall, torches were being lit under Jannet’s supervision. She caught my glance across the hall and raised her brows in an unspoken question. I shook my head and continued toward the stairs to the second story.

My foot was on the first step when I became aware of a rising commotion from outside. I paused and turned toward the great doors. Are we under attack? I ran my hand across the baldric holding Thistlethorn at my back.

“Milady!” The left hand panel swung back, and a thistleman ran into the donjon. His eyes swept the great hall. “Milady?”

“Here,” I answered, leaving the stairs and moving as quickly as I could without running toward him.

“Robert wants you in the east gate tower,” the young man exclaimed. “Quickly, please?”

“What is it?” I started toward the door with the thistleman falling into step beside me.

“Wait just a minute, milady!” Jannet called from across the hall. “You’re not going out there dressed like that!”

I paused and turned back, looking down at the kirtle and cotehardie I had worn all day. “What’s wrong with th- this?” I raised my eyes to see Jannet bearing down on me with my cloak billowing in her hands.

“It’s cold out there!” She tipped her head toward the soldier next to me. “He’s wearing a cloak!”

“Yes, milady,” the thistleman’s tone took on a sheepish note. “It’s gotten colder since the noon.”

I took the heavy woolen cloak from Jannet and flung it over my shoulders, leaving the pommel of Thistlethorn exposed. Fastening it around my throat with my left hand, I nodded for the thistleman to lead on.

As I stepped onto the top of the stone stairs that led up into the donjon, I gasped as the frozen wind sliced through my cloak and set my teeth chattering. My breath was flung back into my face, leaving icy crystals on my cheeks. “C- cold?” I shivered at the thistleman. “We’re not in the Wrothgarians, damn it!”

His long stride faltered on the stairs as he glanced back at me, but he did not stop. I followed closely on his heels as we crossed the bailey. I could see the great gates ahead, thistlemen lowering the bolt home.

“What just h- happened?” I demanded. “Did we open the gates?”

“I’d best have Robert tell you,” the young soldier avoided my gaze. He led me to the base of the eastern tower and wrestled the door open. I ducked into the warm interior, lit only by braziers and torches. Within, I saw more thistlemen hunched over the flames, warming their hands. Some of them nodded to me.

The soldier who had fetched me headed for the narrow stairs leading upwards around the walls of the tower. “Be careful, milady,” he paused after the first few steps to offer me his hand for support. Gathering up my skirts, I accepted his assistance gratefully up the steep stairs.

By the time we reached the third floor, I was out of breath again. Robert turned from one of the south-facing slot windows as I approached him. I stopped at the black look on his face.

“Did Colin tell you anything?” he asked, his eyes flickering toward the thistleman.

“No, just that you would t- tell me,” I answered, gasping for breath. “But did I just s- see the gates being closed?”

“Aye,” Robert scowled, then waved me to the window. I moved forward and peered out.

The sun was now low enough in the sky that the road descended into gloom. I could see flickering torches signaling a fast-moving procession winding its way down the east side of the dean to the valley floor. “Who is th- that?” I demanded. I could just make out the shapes of armored horsemen and foot soldiers. In the rear of the train, more horsemen surrounded a woman seated sidesaddle on a white palfrey. “Is that -“

Just then the lead rider drew rein and spun his grey horse on its hocks. I recognized Sir Laird by his lean figure, angular even in plate armor. “What!” The exclamation burst from my lips as my eyes fell on the familiar emblem on his left arm. “He has C- Cirsium? How dare he?” I slammed my fist into the stone at the side of the window. Then I saw the woman again. Edine. Does he know Talos holds the road?

I backed away and spun around to stare at Robert. “Tell me how he left C- Cardonaccum,” I said coldly.

“He pulled rank on the soldiers manning the gates,” Robert answered. “They thought he had your permission to sally out with his men and strike a blow. They didn’t realize their error until his wife and sons passed them.”

“S- stupid fetcher!” I exclaimed, my fists clenching at my sides. “Does he think he c- can get past General Talos?”

“Apparently he thinks the General will give him safe passage for his family.” Robert shook his head.

“He does, does h- he?” I shook my head fiercely, my loose hair tangling in the pommel of Thistlethorn. Impatiently I pulled my locks over my right shoulder and turned back to the window. “Why would a general who ordered the s- slaughter of unarmed Bretons give safe passage t- to armed Bretons? He’ll keep th- them from passing th- through.”

“Should I send a detachment after them?” Robert asked. “Maybe we can convince Sir Laird to return.”

“Can’t,” I shook my head. “I t- told him if he left th- this donjon, h- he wouldn’t be welcomed back.” Below, the flickering torches disappeared through the trees lining the valley. I closed my eyes. Edine. She’ll be caught in the middle. It won’t end well for her. I sighed. This conviction came from the same source as my nightmares. Though I possessed no magic of my own, Nirn gave me her own. My bare feet kept me in constant contact with her power, through stones and wood and dirt. Sometimes Nirn showed me possible futures, and I saw one now. “I will not ch- change my mind on the matter. He betrayed C- Cardonaccum by stealing Cirsium and leaving th- the donjon during a siege.” I turned back to Robert. “Where is Onchu?”

“He left with Sir Laird,” Robert answered.

Good riddance. We never needed that fat hypocrite here anyway. But now I have to find someone else to tend Arkay’s chapel. “R- Robert, make certain everyone knows that no one, absolutely no one, is to leave th- the donjon without your or my permission. The two of us are the only ones with the personal authority t- to open these gates, and the postern gate up on the moor.”

“As you will, milady,” Robert inclined his head.

From the shadows behind him stepped one of the other men in the shadowed room. I recognized Captain Padriac. He bowed to me, his face grim. “My pardons, milady. This is my fault.” Robert shifted toward him, lifting a hand to stop the other soldier.

“Your fault?” I repeated, meeting Padriac’s uneasy gaze. “H- how so?”

“Sir Rodric warned me that Sir Laird was likely to cause trouble,” Padriac answered. “It was my men on the gate, my men who let them through. I neglected to tell them to keep Sir Laird confined to the bailey.”

I sighed. “It isn’t your fault, C- Captain,” I said firmly. “If any one of us is at fault, it is me. I sh- should have ordered him c- confined to quarters this afternoon. Instead, I let him escape because I did not c- communicate the necessity to everyone on th- the walls.” Robert shook his head slowly until I shot him a glare. “But we h- have more important things to do th- than figure out where the blame lies,” I continued. “Sir Laird was planning to betray me and Wallace - he s- said as much to me. By Arkay, we may be better off without him h- here!”

There's a nice bit of reinforcement of the fact that she's in charge. Accepting the blame says "the buck stops at the top, and I'm at the top".

I'm a bit surprised at Laird taking the risk of leaving as a single convoy, but I suppose he only gets one chance to bluff his way out. I'd hope that he separates his group before meeting Talos, or he's forced onto the defensive.

Nice weather for it!

”. . . we’ll have more important things to worry about th- than what’s an appropriate dinner for a barefoot Witch.” - - By Mara, I was right! Barefoot Witch is now a proper term of endearment! Seriously, as word gets to the ranks of who is responsible for the high priority placed on feeding them well (and it will), the Barefoot Witch’s stock among them will soar. I know Wallace is responsible for much of Cora’a ability to lead this castle, but his strongest legacy seems to be not so much what he taught her, but how well he chose his Lady to begin with.

Wrothgarians indeed! I was reaching for my furs to stem the frosty dampness.

Uh-oh. Laird and Pillsbury are no loss, but Cirsium and Edine are! Grrr!

At least Cora had some good news from Sine. I am wondering when she will start sizing Sine up as a replacement for Onchu?

And the kitchen was fun. Not to mention set my stomach to growling, even though I ate just 3 hours ago.

“Feed our men so well that those Legions out there start thinking about defecting to us for your food!”
If they are eating hardtack with weevils (the soft spots), then that won't be too difficult!

There goes Laird. I am not surprised. My guess is that he's going to try to strike his own bargain with Talos. But I do not see T going for it. Given that Laird just left the castle, he no longer has anything to really bargain with.

He took Onchu with him? I have to agree with Cora's assessment. Good riddance to bad rubbish there. Looks like it is time Sine got that promotion...

It's a date!!... ...

*Does dance of joy while singing to himself*..."I gotta da-ate...With Haitch-Ee-Ah-are"... ... ...


Oooh 'eck!... ...While it's good that the viper is gone from the nest...*Does finger guns and winks*...Oh yeah!!...Did he take Broc with him?...Or is that snake still ready to deliver his poison?...

Yeesh...I hate it when I try to do proper sensible stuff...I just can't...

Absolutely loved all that...The trip to the kitchen was proper good...That meal sounds lovely, no wonder the Barefoot Witch would be happy to have it...Damn...It's a bit early for stew here... ...Ach, I'll go make a start on some!...

I can imagine that something bad is about to happen to the fighters who left...I just hope that Talos' men don't mistake the family for fighters...

Aaamywho...Brilliantly amazing stuff...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

What everything else said. Good reinforcement of Cora taking on her role as leader, nice showcase of the castle's activities and of course removal of two hindrances.


I do have to disagree with Subrosa though. Laird does have something to bargain with. Circium. Talos would definitely appreciate getting a bargaining item put in his hands. Of course, there is nothing stopping the general from just taking the thing by force or deceit.

But Talos returned that to Cora himself. So Laird should assume that Talos doesn't need the shield, or he'd have kept it when he first got it.

I’m interested to see what happens to Circium. I would think that Talos would haul it back to Cora if he found it in Sir Laird’s hands. Perhaps with a ‘keep track of your stuff’ quote from the book.

I enjoyed learning more about the barefoot Witch situation, particularly as it related to Edine’s possible unpleasant future. Cora’s resolve speaks well of her.

@ghastley: Yes, Lady Cora has the gumption to stand up to men three times her size and lay down the law. As we've seen earlier in the story, she has grown tremendously since she was a nervous little bride of eighteen.

@Acadian: You had mentioned earlier that people are going to start stuttering out of respect and admiration for our Lady Cora. I, on the other hand, think it would be more meaningful if women chose to go barefoot in all kinds of weather . . . Yes, I agree that Wallace's true legacy is the woman he chose to be his second wife and the one to succeed him. He saw something in her back then that no one else (including Lady Cora herself) could quite see. Makes me wonder if he had the Gift himself . . . And yes, Cora knows well the key to an army's loyalty is keeping their bellies full.

@SubRosa: Not to worry, Siné will step up and fill in for Saint Pillsbury. She is an incredibly strong character in her own right, and Lady Cora recognizes (and even leans on) that strength. We will see more of Siné not only as a healer, but also as a priest of Arkay.

@McB: As always I enjoy your comments. The addition of the gestures just makes them more fun to read! Umm, I have a taste for stew myself too - remember Grits posted the Cloud Ruler Temple Beef Stew recipe over on the cooking thread!

@Overcast and Rainy: (can't you tell that I'm looking out the window at cold, dreary rain right now? And me in the depths of a cold!) Laird may be an idiot, but even he isn't that much of an idiot to think General Talos would deal with him. After all, the good General practically ignored Laird when they confronted each other on the steps. Actually, I see his flight from the castle as fleeing a sinking ship, and he took Cirsium because he plans on returning to claim the castle once Talos has finished off Lady Cora. The one thing he can't foresee is that Talos would treat with Lady Cora as an equal, due to his own inability to see the little woman just that way.

@Grits: Your speculation on Cirsium's fate is interesting, but I don't think Talos is in the business of running a Lost and Found. Not to worry, we will find out in upcoming weeks what happens with that shield.

The story so far: Sir Laird has taken his men and his family and departed Cardonaccum. He has stolen Cirsium out of the Chapel, likely with Onchu's assistance, as the Pillsbury Priest has also left with him. Now we learn the consequences of such a rash decision on his part.

**************************
Chapter Twelve

As Padriac murmured relieved thanks for my understanding, the trapdoor above us slammed back and a helmed head appeared in the square of sky. “Castellan!” he shouted down. “There’s trouble on the road!”

“What?” Robert darted for the ladder, fast in spite of his bulk. I turned and ran for the door that led to the top of the gate arch, Padriac on my heels.

Outside the wind was even colder than it was a few minutes ago, and scattered flakes of white struck my cheeks. I drew the cloak closer about me and stepped onto the parapet. Captain Enrick turned from his vantage point and bowed slightly in acknowledgement of my arrival. “There,” he pointed out the swirling of torches visible among the trees in the distance.

“About h- how far away are they?” I asked.

“Speed they were going?” Enrick responded. “About a mile or so. Looks like the Legions moved closer under cover.”

“If th- they blackened their steel,” I muttered, “we wouldn’t see the light flashing off of them. Damn!” I squinted, a vain attempt to see more completely through the trees. Faint shouts drifted up the valley toward us, screams and curses. My hands clenched on the wall as we listened helplessly. Finally the only sounds we could hear was hoofbeats of running horses.

“I need to speak to the th- three of you,” I said to Enrick and Padriac. I looked up at the gathering dusk. “Let’s fetch R- Robert and meet in Sir Rodric’s room immediately.”

“Yes, milady,” Enrick cast his eyes upward toward the top of the eastern gate tower. He made a signal as Padriac escorted me back into the tower.

Rodric’s Captain was silent as we walked back to the donjon. I was lost in my own thoughts and nearly stumbled on the steps leading up to the great doors. He caught my elbow and steadied me. “Be careful, milady,” he said quietly.

“Thank you, C- Captain,” I waited as he opened the door for us. “It’s all a bit overwhelming for me.”

“It is for anyone their first time,” he responded. “Combat, siege, anything.” He fell silent again as we mounted the wide staircase leading up to the second floor.

Robert and Enrick appeared a few breaths behind us while Padriac tersely reported the situation to Sir Rodric. “I doubt Laird could survive that,” the castellan commented. Enrick nodded grimly.

“Milady thinks the Legion blackened their brights - that’s how they were able to get so close unseen.” He bowed in my direction. “I have to agree that’s a reasonable assumption.”

“Which means there are others doing the same!” Robert exclaimed. “Make certain everyone manning the walls tonight know to be extra watchful, and to keep constant contact with each other.”

“Yes, sir,” Enrick responded. They turned to look at me.

I met Rodric’s gaze. “The r- reason I asked all of you to meet here is because I need your experience right now. We have a h- hard decision ahead of us.”

“What decision is that?” Rodric asked.

“I don’t know for c- certain what General Talos will do,” I began pacing. “He now has Cirsium, I doubt he’ll r- return it a second time. What will he th- think of Laird’s escape attempt?”

“Fully armed Bretons sallying out from Cardonaccum?” Enrick asked. “I suspect that he would think we intend to resist to the last man.”

“Agreed,” I nodded. “Yet another way he would see this as Sir Laird fleeing a sinking sh- ship.”

“Like the rat that he is!” Robert exclaimed, his mustache bristling.

“In either case,” Padriac rubbed his clean shaven chin thoughtfully, “General Talos will attack tonight.”

“In the dark?” Rodric exclaimed. “With no moon?”

“What better time?” Enrick countered. “The fact that his men have covered their steel to hide their approach along the road indicates that he was planning a night attack anyway. Could be Sir Laird’s resistance changed the timing for him.”

Rodric turned to me. “What of Laird’s wife Edine? Any sign of her?”

I shook my head. “I doubt that she or the ch- children will be well-treated at the hands of the Legions, especially with Laird fighting th- them.”

“We don’t know for certain if he attacked first, or they did,” Robert fingered his beard. “They may have ambushed him when they saw him coming.”

“Why?” I asked. “If th- they were sneaking up on us, would they give their position away? Especially with more of the Legions behind th- them to deal with Laird?” I shook my head. “I s- suspect Laird saw them first, and chose to attack.” By the looks on the mens’ faces, I could see that they had not thought of it themselves. “Well, all we know for certain is th- that Laird fought the Legion’s advance forces. And we all agree that General Talos is likely to attack us tonight.” I sighed, fear and worry forming a hard knot in the pit of my stomach. “Do we r- resist, or do we ask for a parley?”

The men were silent for several long breaths, avoiding each others’ gazes. They avoided mine too, as I looked from one to the next. I sighed. “I promised milord that I would take c- care of C-Cardonaccum in the event of his passing,” I said finally. “The question I am asking myself is th- this: how best to do so? If we resist, they c- can lay waste to the lands around us.” I turned to look at Rodric. “Th- that means your manor, Sir Broc’s, and Sir Laird’s will be demolished. The crops s- stored there will be lost.” I met Robert’s gaze. “And our mines up in the h- hills will be overrun. We would die free, but would it be worth it?”

The two Captains’ gazes flashed at me, then they looked away. Robert regarded me thoughtfully. “Are you proposing we surrender to General Talos?” he asked. “For certain, that too, would obliterate Cardonaccum. What’s to stop him from laying waste to the lands and enslaving its good folk?”

“If you can see a way to preserve Cardonaccum for its good folk,” Rodric added, “you can count on me to support you. If that means dealing with the daedra himself, then all I can say is do so very carefully.”

“Until then,” Enrick continued the discussion, “my thinking is to resist, if only to buy time.” He waved his hand expressively at the stone walls surrounding us. “We can hold out here for quite a long time.”

“As long as we are not betrayed from within,” I answered. “I’m not c- certain of Sir Broc’s loyalty.”

“We’ll keep a close eye on him!” Rodric growled. “Don’t worry about that upstart hedge knight!”

“Don’t insult h- his father,” I said mildly. Rodric grunted and looked away with a scowl. “S- Sir Duncan was a good man.”

A loud knocking at the door interrupted Rodric’s grudging agreement. Robert opened it to reveal a young thistleman, the same one who had fetched me earlier this afternoon. “Castellan, on the road!”

Robert did not hesitate, but shoved past the boy and disappeared, with the Captains on his heels. I glanced at Rodric, who waved me to go. I turned back to the young thistleman. “What about the r- road?” I demanded.

“A horse and rider, milady,” he answered. “We can’t quite make out who it is.”

I murmured something to Rodric and ran out after the others. The boy fell in beside me. “Wh- what is your name?” I realized that my stuttering had grown worse as the day wore on, and silently cursed my affliction.

“Calum, milady,” he panted as we crossed the great hall.

“Thank you, C- Calum!” I responded when he darted ahead of me to open the door. I ran through in time to see the bailey gates swing wide, and a horse, her white hide splashed dark, gallop through. A limp form depended from her right side, foot caught in the stirrup. As men ran to catch the panicked mount, I recognized Edine’s palfrey. The mare tossed her head and whirled, avoiding the grasping hands and trampling on the unhorsed rider. She whinnied and spun for the gate, but the thistlemen there were already closing it. Eyes wide with fear and pain, she bolted around the courtyard.

Is that man even still alive? My heart in my mouth, I ran down to the courtyard as the horse veered toward me. I whistled softly, catching her attention. When her ears tipped toward me, I began humming tunelessly, walking slowly into her path. She skidded to a stop and dropped her head against my chest. I stroked her neck, whispering soothing words to her. The pain and fear that surged into me at my touch nearly staggered me, but I kept still. When I was certain the mare was no longer panicked, I took her rein and rubbed her long nose.

Calum appeared at my side, his eyes wide in wonder. I handed him the reins and moved to the mare’s right side. The man-at-arms lay sprawled on the ground, his leather surcoat torn to rags, his mail battered into shreds. The unnatural angle of his lower leg told me his leg had broken, likely when he fell from the horse. I knelt beside him as thistlemen brought torches near.

“Someone c- cut his leg free and get the mare into a s- stall,” I ordered, my eyes on the man’s bare head. “And fetch Siné!” Blood obscured his expression, making it difficult to tell if he still lived. When I reached down to gently ease his head into a more comfortable position, I felt a soft spot above his right ear. He stirred at my touch, and his eyes cracked open through the scarlet covering his face. When his gaze met mine, he struggled to speak.

“Be quiet,” I said.”We’re getting th- the healer for you.” I undid the clasp at my throat and flung my cloak over him.

“Milady - “ his voice rasped with the agony of his extensive injuries. “Sir Laird - dead - his lady - taken -“

My jaw clenched at the news. “We s- saw,” I answered. “But be quiet. Don’t t- try to talk any more.”

“He- “ the soldier gasped, his eyes turning upwards until only the whites showed. “- help -“ His breath escaped in a guttering vapor trail. Snow flakes dropped onto his unblinking eyes as I felt his heart stop beneath my hands.

“Milady,” Robert reached down to me and plucked me up by my shoulders. “Let us take care of him.”

“H- he was one of Laird’s men,” I resisted Robert’s grip. “H- he was asking for help. J- just because h- he followed Sir Laird doesn’t -“

Robert gave me a gentle shake. “It’s too late for him,” he said softly, bending down so that only I heard him. Finally I nodded and let him lead me away, toward the donjon. He escorted me up the stone steps to the doors, then stopped me. “Milady, it’s been a very long day.” Weariness weighed his voice down, the same weariness I felt in my own bones. “You’re exhausted. Go inside, get some sleep. We’ll keep watch all night.”

I looked up at him. “Promise me you’ll s- send for me if anything ch- changes, won’t you?”

“I promise, milady,” he answered.

Storms

Jannet met me in the great hall. She pressed a steaming mug of tea into my hands and insisted that I drink it. When I had obeyed her, she led me upstairs to my sleeping quarters. Exhausted after two days and two nights without sleep, I did not protest as she took Thistlethorn from my back and laid it across the trunk at the foot of my bed, nor when she undressed me and brushed out my tangled hair. Numbly I slid beneath the sleeping pelts and curled up on my side.

Jannet fussed over me a few moments more, then blew out the candles and left me alone. As soon as the door closed after her stooped form, Cinnie leaped onto the bed and tucked herself in the curve of my belly. She kneaded the pelts slowly, rumbling softly all the while. Unlike the other night, when she had purred in contentment, tonight her presence was empathetic. I caught her up in my hands and pressed her soft body against my face. As I wept into her fur, I let her experience the entirety of the fear and worry and grief I had stifled all day.

A slant on it that I hadn't seen. Laird's defection could be seen not as division among the defenders (now resolved), but as suggesting that their position was weak. Cora needs to show that the castle is ready for a siege, so that Talos doesn't have to find that out the slow way.

The besieging troops can do economic damage to the surrounding lands, but what can the garrison inflict on them? Usually they don't have to do anything, as the problems of supplying an expeditionary force for a siege mean time is on the side of the defenders, but in this case Cora and Talos would both benefit from a swift end, and they both know that they both know it.

So Laird didn’t make it – no surprise there. Cora is right though in that Talos could certainly take it as a sign that she has made her choice by sallying knights against the Legion. Not good if that is the impression held by the General. We can almost hope here that his ‘inside information’ on the state of Cardonaccum allows him to accurately divine the truth.

I see Cora’s pretty good with critters!

From the commotion the woods, I am guessing that Sir Lard met up with General Talos.

I suspect that GT will take Sir Lard's force as just what Lady Cora ventured, a rat fleeing from a sinking ship, rather than as a sally. The presence of Onchu will probably clinch it, as the local bishop is not likely to be making attacks with troops (though Duke William's half-brother Odo stood and delivered at Hastings). Besides, he seems to know that Laird is not exactly willing to take orders from Cora anyway.

I noticed that the war council seemed a lot more productive without Sirs Laird and Broc present... Cora herself, while admitting her own lack of experience, shows her worth here. Not only with the observation that Laird was probably the attacker on the road, but also in that she broached the idea of surrender if it would preserve Cardonaccum. The latter is refreshing to see in fantasy fiction. Usually it is always a doomed struggle against impossible odds where there is no thought of surrender (granted, usually because it is orcs or such attacking).

While she might have shoes on, Cora shows her horse-whispering Witchiness with the horse in the bailey.

I was half-expecting Storms to be in Africa.

I would tend to think that Sir Laird’s lady and children wouldn’t have joined him in a raid, but perhaps the survivors won’t make it to the general. Cora feared for their safety, so we can’t assume anything about the treatment of captive non-combatants by the Legion. I’m interested to see what the night brings.

Added: (Sorry, got interrupted mid-post) I liked the darkened armor very much. The details make this story a rich and interesting read.

Ooooh...Proper brilliant...

D'you know...I'd forgotten all about the darkening of the armour/weapons so as not to throw the reflected light... ...Thanks for reminding me about it...*Applauds...Stops and makes note...After slapping the back of his own head...*...Brilliant idea though...

The conference was brilliant...Top Knights abound!!...Fantastic characters all...

Hopefully they'll find Sir Broc soon...I dread to think what he could do about the place on his own once he realises they're all after him... ...

And such a lovely end to the episode, the comforts of the chamber a complete contrast to the martial feel of the rest of it...*Winks and does finger guns*...

Fair dues, this is whole thing is as good as some of my fave novels...No, it's not a shocker, I'm just saying is all... ...

Love it!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

@ghastley: As usual, you have presented a good summation of the quandary faced by both Talos and Lady Cora in this segment. Her solution? Wait and see!

@Acadian: Yes, I would hope that Talos's inside information is good enough that he would see Laird as acting as his own agent. I'm sure, though, that is exactly how Talos sees the idiot. After all, he chose to deal with Cora, not with Wallace's surviving knights. And yes, a touch of empathy with the critters is one of Lady Cora's meager talents.

@SubRosa: I agree with you that GT would not take Laird's actions as indicative of Lady Cora's response to his offer. Rather, I would expect, as I said earlier, that his inside information would be good enough that he knows the nature of Sir Laird does not allow for a female ruler.

@Grits: I'm glad you liked that little detail of the darkened armor! I got to thinking about night operations by the Marines and the Army light infantry and thought why not Legion armor too? I think the trickiest part of night operations for armored fighters is maintaining silence!

@McB: Stop slapping the back of your head! You'll have a bruise bigger than your brains! Sir Broc wasn't invited to this one as Lady Cora did not want to waste time with his insinuations. But yes, a conference of Top Knights, indeed! I suspect Sir Broc would rather wait for a more auspicious time as he doesn't see Lady Cora in quite the same way that Sir Laird did. Thanks for the compliment!

The story so far: Sir Laird has taken his retinue out of Cardonaccum and has encountered Legion forces on the road below the castle. His death was reported by a dying man-at-arms who returned to Cardonaccum. After a hectic day, Lady Cora finally finds time to give in to her own grief.

***********************
Chapter Thirteen

Blue-green light gleamed at intervals along the shadowed corridor. Corbeled vaulting soared above me, and the cracked, crumbling floor, coated with a slick greenish material, twisted my ankles as I tried to hurry. Why was I hurrying? I couldn’t remember. I never did, not at this stage. All I knew was that something pursued me, and there was no way out of this maze. The stone of this mystery structure felt unnatural to my bare feet, as if something inimical to life coiled within its crystalline mass. None of the familiar energy of Nirn could be detected through this hostile surface. That little voice I always listened to was mute. I was hopelessly lost in this strange place.

Booted footfalls sounded behind me. I glanced back, reeling against one wall as a uneven aspect of the floor tripped me. Far off down the passageway, a hooded, cloaked figure strode through one of the isolated pools of light cast by those hateful crystals. His face did not show beneath the shadow of the hood, but the steel hilt of his sword depending from his side glittered in the harsh light. If I was afraid before, I was terrified now. How did I know he meant harm? I had no way of knowing, no way of being certain. Yet I was convinced that if he caught me, my life would be forfeit.

Ahead the corridor twisted to the right, then led down a narrow, winding staircase. I half-ran, half-fell down the ragged steps, my hands bracing me between the curved walls of the stairwell. It gave onto a high, narrow hallway with vertical slots in the walls. As I approached them, a grinding noise sounded from my left side. I barely ducked back in time to avoid being sliced by the razored edge of the bronze pendulum. Two more traversed the pathway beyond. A trap! Panic rose in my throat when I heard my pursuer’s boots on the stairs behind me. I hesitated as the pendulum disappeared within the opposite wall, then darted forward to pause between the first pair. They passed by me so closely that my skirts and my hair drifted in the breeze of their passing. Somehow I managed to skitter into the space between the middle and last blades. As they crossed the hallway, I glanced back in time to see a shadow fall across the floor at the base of the stairway. Then I was on the far side and ran into the darkness.

Several strides later, short of breath, I looked back again. This time I saw the stranger reach the blade trap. Without hesitation he strode unhurriedly through the speeding blades, untouched by them as if they weren’t there. His hood fluttered back from his face, and I had my first glimpse of the man who struck so much fear into my heart. Close-cropped dark hair, a short neatly trimmed beard outlining the squareness of his jaw, and wide cheekbones. Though I had never recognized him before, I did so now.

General Talos.

I half-whimpered, half-sobbed in panic and fled deeper into the maze.

I startled awake when Cinnie’s weight left the bed in a disgusted leap. She moved to the hearth and began grooming herself as I sat up, gasping for breath. I wiped at the tears the nightmare invariably brought. My right hand crept over the mattress to the opposite side of the bed, where Wallace always slept. A sob escaped me when I recalled his funeral pyre. With a shiver, though the room was warm thanks to the banked fire, I slipped from beneath the sleeping pelts and made my way to the tall, narrow windows that looked north across the moor. I pulled the heavy drapes back, essential at this time of the year, and gazed out into the night.

Across the field of the narrow embrasure, a scattering of stars lay across the black land, glittering with a softer, redder glow than the stars in the firmament above. I studied the bits of the constellations visible through rents in the overcast. There’s the Mage. It’s late. Or rather early. Dawn is just a couple of hours away. I could barely make out the heavy frost that lay on the manicured grass between the bailey walls and the moat, now full and reflecting black. Feels like snow. As I watched, the open spaces among the clouds disappeared.

Drawing the drapes closed, I returned to the bed and sat on its edge. We can hold out through the winter. But can we survive an attack? If Talos digs in for the winter, he’ll be exposed to the weather. He’ll lose more men to frostbite and cold-wrought disease than he would assaulting our walls. There is also the problem of securing supplies for his army, so far from the Colovian Estates. The lands won’t support an army of his size for long. The seas will soon be too stormy for shipping. Time is on our side. But he knows this, and he won’t likely sit this one out. He intends to take us by force. Then why did he come to me with the offer of truce? Why bother when he can just overwhelm the castle and occupy it with his own forces?

Cinnie leaped back onto the bed and rubbed her body against my side before padding into my lap. As I absent-mindedly stroked her fur, she arched her back beneath my chin, then turned around and repeated the same procedure from the other side. She continued purring as my thoughts returned to the problem of the siege.

Do I dare hold out? Without Laird’s men, my forces are badly depleted. I can’t count on Broc to keep his men on alert, though I did see a few of them on the walls today. On the plus side, the stores we have laid by will last longer. If we can just hold Talos’s men off, we can make it through the winter. But when spring comes, then what? If Talos digs in for the long haul, he can keep us from replenishing our stocks. And if our crofters can’t get to their fields, what will they do? They may start drifting away from Cardonaccum. And I can’t keep so many people confined within the bailey for so long - we’ll suffer cold-wrought disease too, and those diseases common where people are forced to live on top of each other.

Suddenly I couldn’t sit still any longer. I caught Cinnie in the act of settling herself into my lap and scooped her into my arms. I hugged her soft body before setting her down on the bed. Disgusted, she watched as I changed my clothes, pulling out my winter kirtle. The thick creamy linen fell around my slender body and covered my feet. Unlike the shorter skirts of the other women at Cardonaccum, which stopped at the ankles to both keep the hems from dragging in the dust and mud and to show off fancy shoes, mine trailed a little on the ground, keeping my feet warm.

When I had first come to Cardonaccum, a scandalized Jannet tried to get me to wear shoes. As I had been barefoot as long as I could remember, I had been resistant at first. Finally I had given in when I became tired of the constant stares from the crofters and other folk who sought audience with Wallace. But wearing shoes severed my connection with Nirn in ways that stone and timber floors did not. My normally healthy appetite disappeared. I began experiencing my nightmares almost nightly, instead of once a sevenday or two. A chill settled into my lungs, and I began coughing blood. Then my menses stopped, and everyone thought I had become pregnant. Everyone except me. I knew something was wrong with me. I lost weight and became too weak to tend to my new duties as Lady of Cardonaccum.

It was Wallace who saved my life. Wallace who plucked me from my sickbed and carried me out into the moat, dry at the time. Wallace who forbade me to ever wear shoes again, and helped me stand on my bare feet in the reeds and mud at the bottom of the moat. It was Wallace who taught me not to hide from myself, but to accept me for who I am - a magicka-less Witch with a deep connection to the bones and blood of Nirn. Ever since then, I had worn the long skirts so strangers wouldn’t stare so much at my feet, their soles callused and hard from a lifetime of contact with ground, stones and timber.

If I had ever doubted that Wallace loved me, those doubts disappeared that chilly spring day in the moat beneath the drawbridge. And I had loved him with my whole heart ever since. And tonight - tonight my heart felt empty, bloodless, a hollow husk of its former self.

Enough of this self-pity. What would Wallace want you to do for Cardonaccum? I fished out the dark brown woolen cotehardie and slipped it on over the kirtle. As I laced up the front, my fingers hesitated. What would Wallace do for this place? Why was this so important to him? I caught up the black winter cloak and Thistlethorn. With Cirsium gone, I’d best keep Thistlethorn with me at all times.

The donjon was quiet as I slipped out into the bailey. I could see movement on the walls caused by the watch pacing their rounds. Stamping sounds reached me while I crossed the courtyard. Instead of entering the gate towers, I used the exterior stair to gain the parapets atop the walls.

The thistlemen greeted me with some surprise as I passed them, one after the other. The watch lieutenant, a burly-chested Breton, met me as I stepped into the southeastern corner tower. “Milady?”

“I just c- came to see how everything was atop the walls,” I answered his unspoken question. “It’s a miserable t- time of the night, and miserable weather.”

“Aye, that it is,” he agreed, nodding his shaggy head. “Do you need to speak to Robert?”

Suddenly I knew what I needed to do. “Yes, please. Please ask him t- to meet me over the postern gate.”

“Very well, milady,” he bowed, then opened the door to let me onto the eastern wall of the bailey.

Robert met me on the north wall, his cloak snapping in the breeze that had built up as the sky crept toward dawn. As I looked up at him, snowflakes hit my cheeks. Robert glanced at the dark overcast. “Bad weather on the way. It might work in our favor.” He lowered his eyes to me. “What is on your mind, milady?”

“Where would General T- Talos pitch his tent?” I got right to the point. It was too cold to take longer.

Robert’s brows rose in startled bemusement. He lifted his eyes to the scattered campfires spread across the moor. “He’d want to be on high ground, where he can see as much of the area as he can,” he said finally, turning to point eastward. I gazed at the foothills that sprawled along the base of the snow-capped Wrothgarians. Already I could see snow dusting the higher peaks of the hills. Robert regarded me silently for a few moments. “You can’t be thinking what I’m thinking you’re thinking,” he muttered.

I met his gaze. “And what is that?”

“You’re going to accept his proposal,” Robert stepped past me to lean his roughened hands on the stone parapet. He gazed out over the moor.

“Do you see any other way to keep Cardonaccum alive?” I asked. “You and I both know that General T- Talos can’t stay here much longer. It’s because time is so limited for him, that it’s limited for us.” I moved to stand beside Robert, gazing out at the constellations of campfires a few miles away. “We can resist him, withstand anything except dragons -“

“And there are no dragons left,” Robert added. “But I hear he has a very powerful battlemage allied with him.”

“Yes, and that’s why we can’t be too c- complacent about waiting him out.” I drew my cloak closer around me against the wind. “The General can’t stay here and starve us out - his supply lines are too vulnerable. And he can’t turn back south and leave a hostile holding in his rear.”

“But can you trust him to keep his word on the truce, any truce you may strike with him?” Robert asked. “After all, he slaughtered your kinsmen after they surrendered to him.”

I closed my eyes at the reminder. “Don’t forget, we don’t have the entire story,” I responded. “For all we know, th- they were plotting to stab him in the back, and he was just taking care of a threat in the most effective way possible.”

“How can you say that about your own father and brother?” Robert exclaimed softly, turning his head in my direction.

I kept my eyes on the distant encampment. “I know th- them too well,” I could hear the coldness in my voice, the coldness I felt every time I thought of them. “My father turned on my mother when she trusted him. H- he betrayed me, too, though it’s nothing compared to the other.” I shook my head. “It wouldn’t surprise me that they were going to t- turn on the General once they had what they wanted.”

“So slaughtering twenty-three countrymen in cold blood can be forgiven?”

I sighed. “I don’t know what to th- think,” I said finally. “But after having met the General, I’m not so certain he’s so cold-blooded as the stories say.” Or as he appears in my nightmares.

Robert paced away from me, then spun slowly on his heel and returned, his expression inscrutable in the torchlight. Finally he lifted his gaze to me. “How do you propose to do this?”

“I must go to him,” I answered slowly, hoping my stutter wouldn’t worsen. “And I must do it now. Neither of us has time. If he hasn’t attacked us yet, h- he’ll do it tonight for certain.” I inhaled slowly, drawing on the strength I could feel in the stones beneath my feet. “But I can’t leave Cardonaccum without a leader. I’ll go alone, and you must lead h- here until I return.” I faced him fully. “It would be best if folk didn’t know of my absence as long as possible.”

“You should have someone accompany you, one of the thistlemen -“ Robert began, but I shook my head.

“There is a reason I go barefoot even in the coldest depths of winter,” I said softly. “I go alone, and I will be fine.”

Well, I figured that Laird wanting to return later was a given. But it doesn't matter anymore. He threw the dice and lost. Now the biggest remaining (internal) threat is mister adonis.


Moving on, nightmares are never pleasant. Sure, I suppose mine aren't quite as bad, but after more than ten years of having the same drat subject repeat over and over I'm more tired than terrified of it. And I picked up an odd habit of going lucid which results in said nightmares being punched in the face. That helps.


Anyhow, I thought the flashback was interesting. Not just as a reaffirmation of Cora's trust in the late Wallace, but also as quite clearly showing that the barefootedness is more than a cultural quirk.


One other thing that I realized which works against the thistlemen in a siege. Talos pretty much owns Cardonaccum's lands. That means that he can ruin the fields. So even if he does retreat, the holding's ability to regrow food during spring and summer will be seriously impaired with all the problems that means.


As a result, Cora seeking another meeting with the general comes as no surprise. That she wants to do it all alone is though.


One question remains now for me. Does she leave the sword with Robert or take it with her? On the one hand Robert could be opposed by Broc if he doesn't have the symbol of rulership and the thistlemen could see her taking the sword away from the castle as a betrayal. On the other, Robert having Thistlethorn could be seen as a sign that Cora is gone or that Robert betrayed her. (hey, even if that is patently false and all, Broc can always claim it as leverage against Robert.)

Now that was some nightmare! Poor Cora. Somehow I think these nightmares are not mere coincidence.

Cora weighs her options very well. Unfortunately, none of them look good. They all seem to come down to the question of why did Talos come to her and put himself in danger to make his proposal, if he does indeed mean to storm the castle? Methinks that his army outside the gates is a show, meant to prod Cora into making an alliance.

I loved the story/explanation about Cora barefootness, and how it connects her to the forces of nature.

Interesting story about the aftermath of the Battle of Sancre Tor and the slaughter of the Breton and Nord prisoners. Cora's father sounds like he was one piece of work! It reminds me of Richard Lionheart's massacre of the muslim prisoners at Ayyadieh. He tried to ransom them to Saladin, but Saladin deliberately stalled in order to buy time. In the end it was plain that there was never going to be a ransom or prisoner exchange, and Richard could not keep the muslims prisoner indefinitely. So he had little choice other than to kill them all.

And so I am caught up again. Huzzah for a weekend in bed (or chairs) with a miserable cold. Go me.

I was trying to picture where that nightmare was supposed to be occurring and what it meant before the good ol' triple-blade trap made its appearance. That was a nice touch, and Cora's discomfort only made it better.

So, if Cora is wearing shoes, she starts to experience the effects Supes gets when exposed to background Kryptonite poisoning? I'll keep that in mind whenever I have to invade parts of High Rock after I take care of a few things. Though I have to ask you to stop showing Wallace to be all the types of awesomeness he appears to have been. I'm starting to develop a massive man-crush on him. Not the same type of fanboyism I have for a certain other person, but still one I'm going to have keep in check.


*Cappy suddenly crouches down and begins looking around.* Really? And here I thought Dhertee Innu Endo was about to sneak attack me. Huh. Weird.


Ha! Good one. Robert doesn't know that his statement requires a 'For now' to be appended to it for accuracy.

One nit:

I don't believe swords are used to fight incontinence (though they seem to cause it in others...). And unless the masked man is holding his sword straight up at his side, the hilt is unlikely to be descending from such a position, either. Perhaps 'protruding' or 'extending' would be appropriate here.

I love this little exchange:


Ah, the joys of family. I am not surprised. The general was confidant during his meeting with Lady Cora that his words would be heard and his blood stored safely in his veins. Methinks the obligations of family doth protest too much the more important obligations of not being a total guar-posterior.

So, Lady Cora is going to ride out, alone, to accept the offer of alliance, from the masked man of nightmares-turned-Dragonborn general of the empire. I wonder how things will fare this time when Lady Cora is the guest and the host is GENERAL TALOS STORMCROWN, DRAGON OF THE NORTH!!!!

D@mnit. Almost an entire post and I still couldn't help myself.

Loved your use of the same type of blade trap that we all have had to navigate in various dungeons in Cyrodiil. It was neat to actually experience one of Cora’s dreams about Talos that she had previously only mentioned. Then, I couldn’t suppress a chuckle over how much comfort the unconcerned dear little cat provided when Cora awoke.

Extra long skirts are just the thing to keep a barefooted witch’s feet warm! What an endearing story of how Wallace supported Cora in that regard. We have always held Wallace in great respect for his leadership and judgment, but this brief memory really let us 'see' how much he loved Cora. What a precious memory!

‘...his cloak snapping in the breeze...’ - - Beautiful imagery here.

“There is a reason I go barefoot even in the coldest depths of winter,” I said softly. “I go alone, and I will be fine.” - - I may be mistaken here, but I think I detect a hint (or perhaps a foreshadow?) that the barefoot witch is not as defenseless as she appears. Not with all the magic of Mother Nirn at her feet.

Since Talos has played the card of putting himself in her camp to indicate that he was in a position of strength that allowed him to do so, it's fitting that Cora repays in kind. Acadian has already pointed out that "the barefoot witch is not as defenseless as she appears" and she'd probably like Talos to understand that, too.

Nice cameo from the cat. We need more Cinnie!

This time I saw the stranger reach the blade trap. Without hesitation he strode unhurriedly through the speeding blades, untouched by them as if they weren’t there.

What a fabulous dream sequence! I remember the tease when Cora first saw Talos, and now we get to see an actual dream. That was excellent. How wonderful to learn of Cora’s connection with Nirn through that vivid memory. I am SO going to read this again when I can go through multiple sections in a sitting!

@jackcloudy: You're right, the besieged won't have access to their resources outside the castle. That is part of the reason Lady Cora decided to go see General Talos. She is concerned about having enough supplies to get through the upcoming winter, let alone a siege on top of it. She can't be certain that General Talos has not solved his logistics problem.

@Sage Rose: I rather suspected that you would enjoy the little story behind Lady Cora's barefootedness. It is something unique to this protagonist, and something that I feel rather balances the fact that she is a Breton, which tend to be rather overpowered magically in the game (as I'm discovering with my latest PC).

@BamBam: Thanks for the nit - I went back and fixed it. Of course, I have to make Wallace pretty darn cool in his own right, otherwise Lady Cora would be too easily overwhelmed by the awesomeness that is THE ONE AND ONLY DRAGONBORN OF THE NORTH!!!

@Acadian: I figured it was time we saw the sort of dreams General Talos keeps appearing in. Of course, I kept thinking of Emperor Uriel's line 450 years later . . . "You, I've seen you in my dreams . . ."! Cats are fun to write as they are independent creatures and do as they please. Most of the time they please to behave as the Cheshire Cat and disappear/reappear at their own whim. Yes, big comfort indeed!

ghastley: You make a good point about Lady Cora wanting to show that she is undaunted by General Talos. I rather suspect her choice to go alone to Talos's camp is a mild affliction of one-upmanship - she has more guts to show up by herself, without even the skeleton escort Talos took with him to Cardonaccum. Yes, we need more Cinnie!

@Grits: One of the most frustrating things about posting things on this forum is that it forces you to present the story in bite-sized pieces, rather than as a full seven-course meal. (Can you tell I'm trying to figure out what to make for dinner tonight??).

The story so far: Sir Laird and his retinue has fled Cardonaccum, with the shield Cirsium and the Pillsbury Priest in tow. Unfortunately, we know of his death at the hands of the Legion troops in the dean below the castle. What we do not yet know is the fate of Lady Edine, her sons, or Onchu. Lady Cora has made her decision regarding General Talos's proposal and has set off before dawn to seek him out.

***************************
Chapter Fourteen

My feet followed an unseen path through the brambles that cloaked the foothills. The sky beyond the Wrothgarians began to lighten when I heard a rustling off to one side. I stopped and froze in place, turning my head left then right to locate the sounds. Almost immediately the noise stopped. Too big to be a deer. Can’t be bear, they’ve already gone to ground for the winter. Could I have already reached Talos’s outposts?

When the silence persisted, I continued forward, holding my cloak closely around me to avoid entanglement in the thickets. A few strides later the rustling sounded again, this time in front of me. Once more I stopped and peered ahead through the gnarled branches. A dark form appeared before me, broad-shouldered and bulky. With a soft susurrus of mail, the stranger pushed the brambles aside. I held my ground and waited.

He looked down at me silently, then his hands shifted. A greenish glow followed a snapping sound, and a globe of light took shape in his cupped palm. He held it up so its light fell on me. “Let me see your face.”

My hands shook with more than the cold as I obeyed his command. His eyes widened as he took in my appearance. I knew he had seen the green mote in my left eye. I had inherited the dark brown eyes with ice-green flecks from my father, even though I had not inherited his magical ability. While both of his eyes had several such marks, I only possess the one in my left eye. But it was my trait, the one feature people recognized me by.

“What brings you here, Lady Cora of Cardonaccum?” the soldier asked.

I swallowed some moisture back into my mouth. “I seek General Talos,” I answered. For once my stutter remained mute in spite of my anxiety and fear.

He considered me a moment more, then dispelled the light with a toss of his hand. More magicka sparkled from his hand, winding in thin trails through the branches to either side of us. Then he stepped back and motioned for me to follow him.

He’s a ranger, I realized suddenly. Talos must have forest rangers as outposts here. Makes sense - they can communicate without sounds. That white magicka - that was his way of signaling the other sentries. Wonder what his orders were? Hold the line? I shook myself and concentrated on keeping up with his longer strides over the rough ground.

Before long we reached a small stream, flat stones protruding above the chuckling water. Beyond, the brambles had been cleared away, and neat groups of tents clustered together around campfires.

The ranger stepped onto the stones, then paused in the center of the watercourse and extended his hand back to me. Silently I declined his offer of help and made my way easily across the stones, ice already forming on some of them.

The camp was mostly quiet, with very few men patrolling between the tents. Those that saw us eyed me speculatively, but did not detain or question my escort. Finally we reached a cluster of four larger tents, each with a brace of guards before its entrance. A burly man, a sergeant by the white scarf around his right arm, rose from his seat beside the fire, setting aside his whittling stick and sheathing his dagger. “Hullo, Lucius. Who’s that?”

“Lady Cardonaccum,” the ranger answered. “She is looking for the General.”

“Is she alone?” The sergeant did not spare me a glance. I stepped forward.

“Yes, I am.” This time the sergeant did look at me. His gaze traveled over me from head to hem and back again, lingering on the hilt of Thistlethorn visible above my left shoulder.

“You’ll have to give me that weapon,” he held his hand out decisively.

“No, I will not,” I answered. Somehow I managed not to quail at the look in his face. This is a man who seldom hears ‘no.’ “I will not go before General Talos unarmed.”

His eyes narrowed, and the sergeant took a step toward me. Lucius stopped him with an arm across his chest. “Look at her, man,” he said softly. “That claymore’s as big as she is. Do you honestly think she can do harm with it?”

“She’s a Witch,” the sergeant growled. “And Witches can do things mere mortals can’t!”

“I wish that were true,” I drew his attention back to me. “But I h- have no magic.” I waved my hands around the tents. “And I’m outnumbered. There’s no harm I c- can do to General Talos or any of you.”

“I don’t believe that!” the sergeant growled, but he fell back to the fire.

“Where is the General?” Lucius asked.

“Asleep,” the sergeant responded, jerking his thumb at the smallest tent. “He was up late, and I ain’t waking him for this Witch!”

Lucius shot him a glare, then turned and walked to the indicated shelter. The sergeant did not take his eyes off of me, and his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. I remained where Lucius had left me and folded my hands in front of me, my eyes downcast.

“General?” Lucius’s voice reached me. “Lady Cardonaccum’s here.”

I could hear the startled response from within, but I couldn’t make out the muttering that followed. Lucius responded with a “Yes, sir,” and turned back to me. “The General will be out shortly.”

“Thank you, sir,” I murmured, not moving otherwise.

The tent flap snapped back, and General Talos stepped out. Even in a dark doublet and leather greaves, he still conveyed an imposing presence. He moved to stand beside the sergeant, a few paces away. “Lady Cardonaccum,” he said. “I rather like the sound of that.”

I lifted my head and met his gaze. “It is what your man Lucius has chosen to c- call me, General.”

“And you came seeking me?” Talos continued. His gaze moved around the tents. “I’m sorry that I can’t offer you hospitality to match yours.”

“I do not r- require hospitality, General,” I answered.

Talos’s brows rose. “Then what do you require, Lady Cora?”

Slowly I let my breath out, then inhaled the cold air deeply. “Respect.”

His head reared back slightly. “Of course, Lady,” he answered coolly. “Let’s get out of this infernal wind. I don’t know how you can stand out here in bare feet.” He returned to his tent and lifted the flap for me.

Slowly, giving the baleful sergeant a wide berth, I walked to the tent and peered inside. Small. A table, a chair, and a cot. And a groundsheet. I met Talos’s gaze. “Since you know s- so much about me, General, you will understand if I r- refuse to step inside your tent.”

His mouth twitched, and he glanced within his shelter. His gaze moved from the thick woolen floor to the trailing hem of my skirts. “Of course.” He lowered the flap and pointed out the larger tent to the left. “Then let’s use that one. It’s where I meet with my staff.” He turned to Lucius. “Thank you for escorting the Lady. You may return to your post.”

“Yes, General,” Lucius saluted him with a fist slammed on his mailed chest. He faded back into the night as I followed Talos to the staff tent. Inside, braziers lit a long table surrounded by chairs. Rushes covered the dirt that floored the shelter. Neatly rolled scrolls in a stack rested in a tray at one end of the table.

“Do you approve, Lady Cora?” Talos asked. I nodded and stepped inside. He dropped the flap and secured it against the wind, then gestured me toward a nearby chair near one of the braziers. I seated myself, silently grateful for the warmth emanating from the shallow bowl. Talos moved to a sideboard, where a samovar crouched among small pewter cups. He filled two of them and returned. I looked up as he set one on the table before me. Talos took the chair next to mine and turned it to face me, then sipped at his cup as he sat down.

I regarded the cup he had given me. The steaming fluid was dark colored and aromatic.

“Do you think I would be foolish enough to poison you, Lady Cora?” Talos asked when I glanced at him. “I’m certain you left orders with your man Robert at Cardonaccum. Orders that would be costly for me or my men.”

Cautiously I picked up the mug and swirled the fluid within. The aroma was new - warm, rich and - slightly burnt? Its heat warmed my cold fingers.

“Have you ever had klah?” Talos’s gaze was steady when I looked back at him. I shook my head. “It’s like a Stamina potion - it wakes you up and gives you energy. Some people are addicted to the taste, others detest it. I’m curious to see which camp you fall into, Lady Cora.”

I cupped both hands around the klah and sipped warily at it. At first I could only taste hot, but as I held it in my mouth, additional depth of flavor developed. Dark, almost burnt. A little acidic. Bitter, like strong tea, but not as astringent. And the aftertaste is interesting. I looked up to see Talos watching me intently. Carefully I set the cup back on the table. “It’s intriguing,” I said finally. “And something I could become accustomed to.”

His mouth twitched in that curious manner, but Talos hid his expression behind his mug as he drank the klah a little more heartily. “It’s from Valenwood,” he said. “They’ve begun exporting it to the Colovian Estates.”

I found myself taking another sip of the klah. This time, I kept it cradled in my hands, welcoming its warmth.

“Well, Lady Cora,” Talos set his cup on the table with a decisive click. “What did you come here for?”

“What happened to the knight’s party your men s- stopped on the road yesterday afternoon?”

His brows lifted. “Sir Laird? He’s dead,” he rose and moved to the stack of scrolls. He selected one and unrolled it partway. “Yes, along with about half of his men. One got away, on the wife’s palfrey. The horse was injured, and last seen running back to Cardonaccum.” He looked at me with a question in his eyes.

“The horse is fine,” I answered. “The rider died shortly after he arrived.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Talos shook his head. “If only Sir Laird had surrendered when my sentries stopped him.”

“You said h- half of his men were killed?” I asked. “But only one made it back to us. Where are the rest?”

Talos returned to his chair and sat down. “I thought Sir Laird betrayed you?”

I looked down at the klah. “Where are the other men? And his wife? His sons?”

Talos leaned back and rested his right elbow on the table. He rubbed at his beard, his eyes on me thoughtful. “Why does it matter to you?” His fingers waved briefly before returning to his jawline. “Oh, that’s right, that was half your fighting force Sir Laird took out of Cardonaccum. Do you want them back?”

“They’re alive?” I held his gaze and waited.

“For the most part,” he answered, taking another draught of the klah. “The oldest son died with his father, the other two and his wife are prisoners, along with the surviving men-at-arms.” He leaned forward, his right hand dangling off the edge of the table. “Do you want them back?”

Do I? They betrayed me. What if Edine and her sons feel the same way about me as Sir Laird did? Would I want a nest of vipers back in my donjon? “I’d like to speak to Edine first,” I said finally. “And see the men. Though their knight betrayed me, I’m still responsible for them.”

“If I give them back to you, what shall you give me in return?” Talos asked.

I regarded the klah, then took another sip while considering my words. He waited patiently as I took my time. “Do you remember what you said to me yesterday?” I said finally.

“Very well,” he answered. “What about it?”

“I’ve given your words a great deal of th- thought, and -“ I paused. Once I say it, there’s no going back. I won’t be able to avoid the man of my nightmares anymore. But even if it kills me, so long as it keeps the folk of Cardonaccum safe, I have to do it. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your ally, so long as you support me as Lord of C- Cardonaccum.”

“Then let’s do it,” Talos rose and gathered parchment together. “Let’s draw up this damned truce.” He stopped and looked at me. “Are you certain you want Laird’s people back?”

“Not if they’re of the same mind as he was,” I answered. “In that case, I’m content to let you deal with them as you see fit. I have enough to worry about with Sir Broc.”

Talos’s response was noncommittal. He pulled the chair up to the table and began writing. “Here’s the outline of what I was thinking,” he said as he scribbled swiftly. I envied him his ease with the quill. “I declare you the rightful Lord of Cardonaccum. So far as local issues go, you have the sole authority. Neither I nor my representative will tell you how to run your holding. If anyone challenges your right to hold the seat of Cardonaccum, my men will augment yours and defend your position. Lieutenant Titus Alorius will report directly to you, and only to you. I will be the only one to hold the authority to supersede your orders to the good Lieutenant. In return, you will place outposts at the western end of An Sloc to monitor movements of Bretons and Orcs in the Wrothgarians. Any untoward activity will be immediately reported to me. You will also provide complete logistical support to my men at the same caliber and quality as received by your own men.” The quill paused as he glanced at me. “All right so far?”

Momentarily stunned by the swiftness of Talos’s actions, I nodded silently.

“Now the contingencies. If Lieutenant Alorius should disagree with your decisions, he is to advise you accordingly and -“ he caught my gaze again, “- with full respect. Both of you will be expected to resolve any such situations in a manner equally satisfactory to both of you. If such a compromise is not possible, then Lieutenant Alorius must report to me, and likewise you must send me a written report stating your side of the issue.” The quill continued scribbling as he fell silent. After a few moments, he continued, “If he should die while in your service, you are to immediately notify me and request a replacement liaison if you wish to keep the legionaries. This truce is terminated if you decide not to keep the legionaries, if you die without a successor nominated by yourself, or if I die.” He met my gaze. “It is considered null and void if I should fail to support you in your right to rule Cardonaccum, also if you fail to uphold your vigilance of An Sloc. It can also be terminated by mutual agreement between you and I. Fair enough?”

I held out my hand for the parchments. “May I, General?”

He set the quill down and handed me the contract. While I read it carefully, he returned to the samovar with his cup and refilled it. He was back in his chair waiting patiently when I finally looked up from the truce.

“One thing,” I began. “How do I know that you aren’t posting Lieutenant Alorius at C- Cardonaccum with the implicit purpose of gathering intelligence?”

“That would be his primary duty, of course,” Talos’s gaze on me was unflinching. “I require intelligence of movements in An Sloc, in the holdings surrounding you, and of any news from the Western Reaches.”

“And C- Cardonaccum,” I added.

“Of course,” he agreed. “It’s natural for me to be concerned how my newest ally is doing.”

As expected Lady Cora has encountered Talos' sentries. But this is no ordinary sentinel. His light spell is the first sign, and then his magical signalling. It also seems that he has been told to expect her visit. I wonder if he had been one of the men who had been with the General at Cardonaccum? Or he had just been given a description of her?

It was also nice to have this new insight about Cora's appearance. Her green flecks are clearly one more little sign of her being a Witchwoman of the Western Reach, along with her barefoot connection to Nirn.

“No, I will not,”
This made me want to cheer!

“I’m sorry that I can’t offer you hospitality to match yours.”
I guess he does not have a salt room!

I see Sir Laird got what was coming to him. I expect that Lady Cora will try to get his wife released at least. Though I think a lot depends on how disagreeable she is. If she supports Cora, that can only help her cause, and she can come back home with the surviving soldiers and claim a sort of victory. Somewhat like the way Nikita Kruschev was able to declare the Cuban Missile Crisis a victory because he could tout how he saved Cuba from being attacked by America.

Well she made her alliance with Talos official. I was expecting that. What other choice does she really have? I am not surprised at how quickly Talos laid out his demands. I am sure he has been thinking of it for a long time.

I thought that this would be happening sooner or later. It was the sensible decision, really, and I don't blame Cora a bit for taking it; if I were in her (purely metaphorical) shoes it would be the call I'd make.

Even though his appearance was pretty brief, I found myself developing a bit of a soft spot for Lucius. I think it was his inception of the rather snappy title of 'Lady Cardonaccum' that did it for me, but I think the sort of professional courteousness of his manner was a nice touch.

In a similar vein, I found the use of the treaty being held under the title of 'Lord Cardonaccum' a nice detail, and it was a good way to show the patriarchal nature of Tamrielic/Cyrodiilic society(ies), how it has to be under a man's title in order to be official.

Looking forward to the next part, and I'll be intrigued to see how the rest of Cardonaccum reacts to this news.

Not that we needed any more evidence that she's the right one for the job.

I was expecting her to get a bit closer to Talos before she was detected, but you added magic-using rangers and changed the balance somewhat.

She's got the same terms she would have had before Laird left, and Talos has dealt with that problem for her, so preventing a damaging siege is worth it at this stage. If Titus Alorius is the antidote to Broc, she's done well.

And the deal is done. Cora acquitted herself well. If Talos is true to his word (and my gut tells me he is), ‘tis not a bad deal.

Much will depend on this Lieutenant Alorius. If he is cut from quality cloth, things may work out.

Hopefully, the stature Cora has earned within her own realm will secure the support of her own subordinate leaders and advisors.

I’m looking forward to hearing from Lady Edine. It will curious to see where her loyalties lie.

Proper loved the meeting between Lady Cora and t'General...And that bit before with the nightmare was pretty epically unnerving...

Oooh, that Ranger was impressive...Did like him, minor appearance it may have been, still fantastic stuff!!...

Loving all the characters in this story...Much talent you possess there...*Applauds*...

An amazing story, that is an absolute joy to read...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

@SageRose: I'm one of those writers who like to reveal a little bit of my character's physical appearance little by little. In a culture where people are judged on their appearances, and being no supermodel myself, I want my readers to get to know my characters as people, not as cardboard appearances. That said, I'm glad you liked that little detail. And yes, maybe Lucius and Company would have had those cards with the images of Lady Cora and her retinue, much as American GIs had of Saddam Hussein and Co. in Iraq! We will see the sort of character Lady Edine is soon (just not in today's update). I rather suspect that having lived a traditional life, she, like Lady Cora, will soon figure out just the stuff she is made of and come into her own now that her husband's shadow is removed.

@Officer MyFavoriteCondiment: I rather liked Lucius, too. I really wanted to develop him more, but sadly enough, we won't be seeing more of him. I rather see him as being like Faramir in LOTR.

@ghastley: Yes, General Talos has thought long and hard about what he wants to do in High Rock. As I see it, he developed this plan around Wallace, but thought Lady Cora would be an acceptable alternative when things didn't work out the way General Talos wanted with Wallace.

@Acadian: You and I have the benefit of hindsight and the Lore, so we know that General Talos is going to be true to his word on this treaty. But Lady Cora doesn't know that yet. As for Lieutenant Alorius, I think you will like him very much. I certainly do! I doubt Lady Edine will disappoint you!

@McB: I try to treat my minor characters with as much care as my major ones - after all, they are living breathing beings with their own lives, emotions, and stories! More than once I've found myself going back and giving a minor character in one story their own . . .

The story so far: With Laird's precipitous departure and resulting death in a Legion ambush, Lady Cora has made the decision to go to General Talos and treat with him. The terms he has offered are reasonable and tolerable, though she still hates the idea of being submissive to a foreigner (ironic, as she is foreign to these parts herself - goes to show how much she loves Cardonaccum).

******************************
Chapter Fifteen

It took us another hour to hammer out the details of the truce. As we worked, I could hear the murmurs of men gathering outside the tent. Talos ignored them, intently focused on the contract. Finally he set the quill down and handed me the parchment. I found it difficult to concentrate on the writing as the voices outside gradually crescendoed.

Talos inhaled sharply as if becoming aware of the men outside. “Excuse me a moment,” he said. I looked up briefly as he rose and moved to the tent flap. Grey light poured in as he flung it back. “Keep it down, gentlemen.” Silence followed his quiet command. “It will be just a few moments longer.” He returned to the table as I finished my review.

“That looks fine to me,” I said finally. “What now?”

“We get the scribe in here to make a copy of it.” Talos returned to the tent flap. “Lysander!”

“Sir!” A thin man, grey with cold, entered the tent. His gaze flickered at me, then he glanced back at Talos, startled.

“Lord Cardonaccum and I have written a truce,” Talos said. “I need you to make a neat copy of it.”

The scribe moved to the table and picked it up. His lips moved silently as he read it. With a nod of approval he seated himself in the chair Talos had used. “How many copies, sir?”

“Three,” Talos answered. The scribe set to work immediately, preparing a fresh quill and new parchment.

“It will take but a few minutes, sir.” He bent to the clean sheet and began writing. His own hand was much neater and crisper than Talos’s. The general observed me watching the scribe, and motioned me to join him near the samovar.

“That’s why I have a scribe,” he commented, refreshing my now-empty cup. “I’m surprised you could read my handwriting.”

“Yours is far better than mine, General,” I responded before taking a sip of the fresh klah. Yes, I could grow to like this. But the strong tea’s still better.

Talos clicked his cup softly against mine. “Here’s to a profitable alliance.” He regarded the dark liquid in his mug before swallowing it all down. “Too bad the wine is cold this time of day.”

“That would be more appropriate for a t- treaty signing,” I agreed. “But this is fine given the c- circumstances,” I waved the cup around the tent. “This setting’s not so ideal, either.”

Talos regarded me thoughtfully. “I knew I would like dealing with you, Lady Cora. You don’t put much stock in the trappings of politics and diplomacy. You’re about getting the job done.”

I met his gaze. “I don’t have t- time, and neither do you.”

Again I endured his penetrating scrutiny. “I shall have to be careful not to underestimate you, Lady Cora. Ever.” He glanced over at the scribe, then set his cup down beside the samovar and bowed to me. “Excuse me.” With long strides he crossed the tent to the entrance and flung the flap back. “Gentlemen, you may enter.”

Six officers, resplendent in polished Legion armor, entered the shelter. The cloaked figure that brought up the rear seemed incongruous next to these soldiers, yet I could not take my eyes off of him. I could sense the power that emanated from his hidden form. His hood shifted in my direction, and I turned my gaze away hastily. I sensed his consideration of my presence, then he bowed to me before moving to the shadows still filling the corners of the tent.

Lysander laid his quill down and rose to his feet. “It is done, sir,” he said to Talos.

The general moved to stand beside the older man and regarded the parchment. “Very good. Go ahead.”

Lysander shuffled two more sheets of clean parchment beneath the neat copy. Under his fingers the material glowed a soft green. As I watched, fascinated by a use of magicka I had never seen before, the inked letters glowed as if burning through the layers into the table. Yet the parchments remained intact. As the spell faded away, Lysander picked up the pieces and examined each of them. Satisfied, he handed them to Talos.

The General performed a similar scrutiny, then waved to me to join him. Difficult as it was to ignore the stares from the officers now ranged around the table, I moved to Talos’s other side. He handed me the parchments. “Are these acceptable, Lord Cardonaccum?” Murmurs drifted around the table at the mention of my title, but rapidly died down at a quelling look from Talos.

Talos was right, the scribe’s writing was much neater than his. I examined them carefully, and found them identical to Talos’s draft. I looked up and met his gaze. “More than acceptable, General.”

“Very well,” Talos picked up the quill the scribe had used. He held it out to me. “Now we sign it. After you, Lady.”

I hesitated a moment. Am I signing everything I promised Wallace away with this? But I can’t think of any way to make this more fair to Cardonaccum. As for dealing with the daedra, if that’s what it takes, I’m willing to give up my life for Wallace’s holding. My gaze moved from the quill to Talos’s face. Shadows hid his hazel eyes, but I could read no duplicity in his expression. And my little voice was silent.

My hands shook as I laid the parchment on the table. Talos seemed mildly surprised when I plucked the quill left-handed from his fingers. I took a deep breath to steady my hand, then signed my name times three: Cora Ruthven. Silently I handed the quill back to him.

The quill faltered over the parchments when he read my signature. “Ruthven? Not ap Askey?”

“That was my father’s clan name,” I replied. “Ruthven is my mother’s.”

Talos considered me a moment, then bent back to the sheets. “Makes sense,” he said as he signed with flourishes. He straightened up and sent another glance around the tent as Lysander gathered the sheets together and handed them to him. “Gentlemen,” he said to the gathered officers. “This is Lady Cora, Lord of Cardonaccum. She will stand as my ally here on the northern frontiers, and watch An Sloc. Any objections?”

Negative murmurs greeted his question. He nodded in satisfaction and turned back to me. “Here is your copy,” he handed me the first sheet. “And this is mine,” he laid the second on the table in front of him. “And Drusus, please take this for the officers.” He handed the third to the eldest soldier present. The older man, about the same age as Laird, took the parchment with a salute. “Make certain all the officers understand its terms. And send out the order to begin pulling the men back to Thistle Downs.”

Drusus saluted Talos again and left the tent. The General eyed the remaining officers. “Roos, Forsus, have the Rangers scout the road to Bluestone Tower and clear the way. Skvar, set the rearguard up here. And Odwalt, you have the prisoners, correct?”

“Yes sir.” The younger of the two Nord officers nodded. “Two of the men died of their wounds during the night,” he added. “Do you want me to get them ready for transport?”

“Not yet,” Talos turned back to me. “ Do you still wish to see Laird’s people?”

“Yes, please,” I answered.

“Very well,” Talos turned back to Odwalt. “Please take the Lady to see your prisoners. I shall join you at your camp in about an hour or so.”

“Yes sir,” Odwalt nodded, then turned his blue gaze on me. Unlike Robert’s shaggy mane, his flaxen hair formed a close-cropped cap on his head, and his beard was trimmed short, like Talos’s. I realized that these Legion men favored the shorter styles as it made wearing the closed helms more comfortable. Odwalt’s only concession to his Nord heritage was the long mustache that drooped down either side of his mouth past his chin.

Odwalt moved to the tent flap and held it open for me. “After you, Lady.”

I stepped out into a much different scene than the one just a couple of hours ago. No longer quiet, the camp now bustled with men in various kinds of armor, all moving purposefully from one place to another. Horses whinnied and stamped, and squires darted past carrying pieces of plate and miscellaneous weapons. Somewhere beyond the tents, I could hear the clear calls of drill sergeants and the unified footfalls of men moving in formation.

The big Nord led me through the maze of tents and soldiery in a southerly direction. “My camp is set up in the valley before Cardonaccum - you call it a dean, I believe?” he remarked over his shoulder.

“Yes, any steep-sided valley is a dean in th- these parts,” I answered. Odwalt grunted noncommittally. He paused near a picket line where horses waited and considered me thoughtfully.

“I’ll walk,” I said firmly. A dubious expression passed over his features.

“’Tis a long way,” he began.

“I know these parts well,” I answered. “And I can walk quite fast. You can ride, if you’d like.”

His blue eyes flashed briefly as he turned away from me and continued past the mounts - on foot. As we worked our way through the hills to the moor, I began to regret not accepting the unspoken offer of a horse. Each of Odwalt’s long strides ate up thrice as much ground as mine. But I kept up with him, gripping the baldric over my left shoulder to ease the weight of Thistlethorn.

The sun had risen higher when we passed Cardonaccum and reached the eastern edge of the dean. Odwalt found the goat’s trail, its brush cleared back to allow passage of horses and armed men single file, and started the descent. Tumbled boulders blocked the rough path for anything less nimble than the little creatures that thrived within the valley. Quite often Odwalt paused to assist me over obstructions.

“I did not know they taught chivalry in Skyrim,” I commented as his hand lifted me over yet another rock.

Odwalt glanced sidelong at me. “T’ain’t chivalry, Lady,” he said as I returned to the dirt of the track beside him. “’Tis self-preservation. The General would flay the blue off my skin if I let any harm come t’ ye.” He indicated the whorled tattoos that covered the backs of his hands and extended beneath the long sleeves of his leather jerkin.

“Were you the one who took Laird’s men prisoner?” I asked as we progressed further down the trail. Odwalt considered my question for several silent steps.

“Aye, my men did,” he said finally. “Laird spotted my outposts and attacked them.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Fool, that one.” His tone held a scathing censure. “Thought that was all there was to us. Apparently when the rest of my men came up the road, he was off guard.” Again he met my gaze briefly. “I’m sorry, Lady. T’ain’t no offense to the dead meant.”

“You just summed up Sir Laird’s nature quite accurately,” I answered. “He was always impetuous. Wallace always had to hold him back, make him wait while milord assessed the situation.”

“Too bad Lord Wallace is dead,” Odwalt said bluntly. “If General Talos had had the chance to speak with him like he wanted, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

I stopped in the center of the path. “And whose fault is th- that?”

Odwalt stopped a few strides away and turned back to me. “No one,” he answered as bluntly as before. “Lord Wallace did what he had t’do, and so did General Talos.” I stared at him, until he shifted his gaze away from me. “Forgive my rough speech, Lady. I know no courtly talk.”

I stepped toward him. “I’d prefer the rough speech, sir,” I said. “It’s honest.”

“’Tis truth,” Odwalt resumed his walk.

“It’s just that t- truth is often painful.” I added, eliciting a noncommittal response from the big Nord.

A/N: Odwalt is one of those characters who jumped fully formed into my mind as I was developing this scene. As much as I liked Lucius, for me Odwalt is much like General Camillus in another story. In any case, he has inspired me to pick up a pen/stylus and start sketching again.

I kept looking for a sweetroll during the negotiations. But I suppose coffee will do.

As always, I loved the real world application of xerox magic in the hands of the scribe. I was hoping for something like that.

I wonder what the commotion is outside the general's tent? hmm, from that sense of power in the cloaked figure, I am going to take a stab and say that is Zurin Arctus.

I appreciated that Lady Cora signed her name using her mother's last name, not her father's. Especially given the betrayal hinted at by her father.

Odwalt is an interesting, plain-spoken Nord soldier. I wonder if we will be seeing more of him?

Was the "xerox magic", as SubRosa has called it, green because it's illusion, or because that's how real xeroxes work? I think it's a mix of illusion and alteration, so pale green seems appropriate.

I liked the little aside about Cora feeling the weight of Thistlethorn. A nice metaphor.

And I'm just as curious about the unnamed "person of power", and why he's there.

SubRosa nailed the highlights here – I fondly remember Destri’s little negotiating sweet roll as well! Document duplicating magic, the mysterious cloaked figure, all very neat!

Good on Cora for using her mother’s clan name. I’m surprised, given that TES women completely control racial DNA, that the whole world there is not more matriarchal. I guess the BethSoft devs got a little too much Roman Empire earthiness on them during game design.

Seems like Cora really wants to keep those bare feet in firm contact with Mother Nirn – no horses for her. Of course. . . perhaps with the right horse, she could develop a bond to Nirn flowing up to her from trusted hooves? Oops, sorry – thinking like a horse-crazy elf again.

Odwalt is a refreshingly different fellow, and I agree with Cora in liking his simple and direct manner.