Of Snow and Bone - Part Sixteen

2nd of Hearthfire, 4th Era 201

I slept most of the previous day, recovering from the festivities and tending to my equipment. Thankfully the innkeeper had been kind enough to keep my gear and coinpurse safe, otherwise it surely would have been stolen. Unfortunately my sleeping hours were now off, and I found myself waking up even earlier than normal this morning.
Fed up with sitting around the inn idly waiting for breakfast, I grew restless and went down to the stables, eating an apple along the way. I saddled Blacktail by the light of a horker oil lamp, and soon we were headed East, towards Windhelm.
When I noticed a signpost next to a dirt path, I thought that perhaps it was another shortcut. Instead, it travelled around an outcrop of rock and then ended abruptly before a cave. Drawing Dawnbreaker free of it's sheath (the enchantment had run dry a small while ago, but the gem glowed as brightly as ever) and readying my shield, I headed inside.

The inside was brightly lit, though from what source I could not tell, and a small pine tree was growing out in a larger area. Two trolls that had been dancing around the tree spotted me almost immediately and charged. I've often heard tales about how fearsome trolls are to face, and while it's true they do have great strength, if you keep moving they are too clumsy to hit you. I darted in and out, side to side, hacking at them all the while, and soon the wounds became to much for their slight regenerative abilities.
On a shelf of rock above the trolls, a small camp had been set up. Two dead and broken Nord men were laying against the cool stone walls of the cave. Their camp had little of value, aside from an ingot of orichalcum and a copper circlet set with moonstones. I kicked one of the trolls in the head and made my way out of the small cave.

A short time later I found another dirt sidepath, and led Blacktail along it. The path was steep, leading up into the snowy mountains on the West side of the main road. It was the opposite direction I had planned on going, but I was curious and the light of Masser and Secunda was still strong.
The higher I went up, the more it snowed. At first it was nothing but a light tickle of tiny flakes, but soon it became a blanket of wet, heavy snow. I wrapped my thick cloak around me, but it wasn't terribly cold; I just didn't want to get wet. A few times I had to dismount Blacktail and take him by the leads, guiding him over narrow or steep parts of the path. Soon though the path began to level out, though the snow was falling as heavily as ever. Thankfully the wind was barely blowing.
The trail cut through a narrow valley of stone, and then began to slop downwards; it seemed I had crested the mountain and come out on the other side. As I headed down, the snow began to clear, and I gazed off into the night air below. Strangely though I could not see the plains of Whiterun or it's massive keep off in the distance. Instead, forested slopes led down into a valley, where I thought I could see the glimmer of water. It was difficult to tell in the dark. When dawn broke, I would have a better idea of where I was.

After a while I broke through to a wider, more well travelled path. My eyes widened when out of the trees came several brilliant white spindles of light! They were eerily beautiful, and I felt an immense curiosity as to what they were. Forest spirits, perhaps? The lights circled widely around me a few times, then slowly began to head back the way they had came. Tying Blacktail loosely to a tree, I told him to stay put and followed the lights, my hand on Dawnbreaker's hilt just in case.
A whispmother! Of course! I was an idiot. The glowing lights led me straight back to the ghostly figured, who began throwing fearsome spikes of ice at me. One of them hit my shield and pierced the solid orichalcum plate several inches through. I fled; this was not a fight I was liable to win.
Blacktail had fled, and I cursed the damnable horse for leaving when I needed him most. Spikes of ice whispered past me with a hiss of cold, slamming into the earth or impaling themselves into trees, sending splinters of wood pattering against my armor. Damnit! Where the hell was that horse?
That Oblivion-damned whispmother was still following me, hurtling ice bolts in trios. I could dodge them easily enough from a distance, but as soon as I got anywhere close they would pierce me like a cheap whore. Sheathing Dawnbreaker, I took the elven bow off my back. I wasn't very good with bows, and I would be even worse using one while dodging swarms of ice bolts, but it would have to do.
Knocking a Dwemer arrow (I had found a quiver of two dozen way back in Nchuand-zel) I pulled back the string, stopped just long enough to take aim, and let fly. The arrow passed through her, tearing a tiny bit of ectoplasm. This would never work! It would take a hundred arrow at this rate.
Then two of a trio of ice bolts slammed into me, one hitting my breastplate and shattering into tiny shards that flew into my face, the other piercing a joint at the armpit. With a grunt of pain I dropped the bow, summoning up my healing spell in one hand and yanking the shard of ice from my armor with the other. I could feel my flesh knitting itself back together, the pain quickly ebbing, but that bitch of a whispmother was still hurtling ice bolts at me. Did she never run out of mana?

"Enough of this horseshit!" I screamed in rage. I could hear my heartbeat thudding in my ears, leaving everything else to sound distant and hollow. Before I had any conscious decision, I was charging at the whisp, shield raised, sword drawn and ready to strike. A trio of bolts struck my shield, then three more; needle sharp points just inches from my face. Through one of the holes I could see the damned ghost, then I slammed into her.
The whispmothers ectoplasm felt like slogging through half-melted snow. Freezing cold, wet, and miserable. She began to blast me with a cone of frozen slurry, but I ignored the deathly chill and slashed at her over and over again. It must have done something, because after a dozen or so blows she began to wail, and then exploded, her ectoplasm flying everywhere and then dissipating into the air.

The battle had left me nearly dead and chilled to the bone. I downed a healing potion, then a stanima potion, and looked around, shivering violently. I needed to make a fire, and now. Maybe the familiar smell of smoke would draw Blacktail back to me. With stiff, shakey movement I began to chop dead, dry branches off the lower portions of trees with Dawnbreaker. My axe had been strapped to Blacktail.
Before long I had a small fire going, thanks to my flames spell. Stripping off my frost covered armor, I warmed myself by the fire and listened for the sounds of Blacktail.
"Damn horse... he better come back." I muttered, trying to focus on a healing spell to reverse the frostbite I had suffered.

Dawn broke as smoke drifted lazily through the trees, a cool breeze whispering through the pines. There was no sign of my horse. Damnit... I would need to find him, dead or alive. I took a few more minutes to warm myself by the fire, put my armor back on, and scuffed out the fire. Most likely he had bolted down the path, the only question was which way?
I nearly cried with relief when I heard a familiar nicker, followed by the sounds of a hoof pawing at the ground. Blacktail! He hadn't run far, just off the path and into some trees really. I hugged the huge beast around the neck as he nipped at one of the leather straps on my armor.
"Damn horse." I said affectionately, letting go of his neck and slapping his flank softly. "I thought you had run off to leave me for dead."
Now that I had access to my repair tools, I pounded out the jagged edges of the holes from the ice bolts and remounted. I still had no real idea where I was, but from atop a hill and with the added height of Blacktail I got a good view of the valley below.

I could see the White River, winding in and out of view, and far off in the distance a city surrounded by a huge square stone wall. Now that the sun had risen I knew which way was east; the city must be Windhelm. With a sigh of relief I guided Blacktail back to the dirt road and headed North, keeping the sun on my right. I had to backtrack when I realized I had left my bow laying in the dirt, but then we were back on our way.
No longer shrouded by night, the view from the high dirt road was very beautiful. Part of me wanted to set up camp and just watch it all day, but I urged myself to continue on to Windhelm. Fighting the whispmother, finding Blacktail, and repairing my equipment had already taken up too much of the morning.
Near the end of a switchback portion road winding it's way down the mountain, I came across two bandits milling around a dead farmer woman. I rode them down from atop Blacktail, who seemed to be getting more used to being around combat and blood. The bandits had nothing of value aside from an enchanted amulet, and I dragged the three corpses to the side of the road and continued on my way.

A small side path led to a lovely pool fed by a natural spring leaking from the cliff face above, a large cave entrance beside it. I decided to explore, although it would most likely be flooded if there was a spring beside it. Still, there might be something interesting or valuable. At worst there would just be a bear or some trolls.
The cave was well lit by lanterns, and I slew two bandits near a pile of crates at the entrance. A good small stream had carved a path into the floor, most likely coming from the pond, and dumped into a huge natural cistern. The bandits had strewn a rope bridge across it to a pillar of rock in the middle, and then another bridge to the far side and another natural tunnel.
Aside from a very stubborn but unskilled Bosmer girl, I cut through the bandits in the first section of tunnels. Then it was up a subtle slope and deeper into the caves, the lanterns growing dimmer and spreading further out to leave the damp tunnels feeling gloomy.

The second area contained a trio of bandits of more worthy note. One of them, armed with a sword in one hand and a pickaxe in the other, proved especially challenged. Until his pickaxe got lodged in a shoulder plate after piercing it, and the fool decided to try to wrench it out rather than just let it go.
I was quite surprised to discover that the bandits had set up some sort of arena, complete with cages, one of them holding a live sabercat. A half dozen of the bandits had gathered here, and five of them quickly swarmed towards me while the sixth, a Dunmer girl, pelted me with arrows. I was forced to retreat down a dead end and huddle beneath my shield, poking from time to time with Dawnbreaker.
It proved to be a harrowing battle. Two of the bandits I took down quickly. Overconfident with their superior numbers, they left themselves open to be stabbed in the throat. Two more proved more resilient, but the fools kept getting in each others way. Whenever one would trip over the other, it provided me the opportunity to slash at their poorly protected bodies.
That left the fifth, and the most powerful, armed with a huge steel warhammer. Him and the Dunmer archer. If I had been wearing lesser armor his warhammer probably would have shattered my arm every time I raised my shield to block; as it was, he just jarred it into numbness. And he took blows as well as he recieved them: I got a half dozen good cuts on him, until at last he missed a blow (which I barely avoided) and stumbled forward. Slipping to the side, I put my blade in the right place and let him do the work for me; a deep gash opened on the inside of his thigh, just below the groin, and soon he had bled out.
The archer, once I had turned my undivided attention to her, did not last long. If the girl had been smart she simply would have fled; instead, she was trying to string an arrow even as I ran her through.

For all my efforts, I recovered little of value; some potions, lockpicks, and coin. An old chest held some enchanted bracers, which I stuffed into my haversack, but the magic in them didn't feel particularly potent. In the end it would probably all sell for just enough to repair my poor battered armor.
I ate a simple lunch of hard, salted cheese as Blacktail munched on some grass beside the spring pool. Judging by the sun it was about noon; I figured I might reach Windhelm by evening. Assuming I made no more side stops and Blacktail didn't run off when I dismounted to see the pretty lights.
Mai'q was along my path once again, this time near a bridge.  The Khajiit was looking over a waterfall, and seemed startled when I hailed him. He waved lazily and then turned back to stare at the waterfall. Maybe he was watching the fish as they jumped near it. I decided not to bother him and continued along the road.

The day had turned chilly and misty, but the mist added the perfect ambience as I approached the ancient and massive stone bridge leading the Windhelm. The walls of the city were truly intimidating, solid and angular in a way that Solitude couldn't match. Solitude had the beauty, but Windhelm had the brawn. I imagined standing atop the city walls in a blizzard, watching a huge army preparing to assault the gates, and chuckled.
A light flurry of snow began to fall, flakes swirling in occasional gusts of wind as I left Blacktail at the stables and began the walk across the bridge. The guards seemed to be watching me more than usual, but I was able to enter the city unmolested. I had half expected them to try and shake me down, or deny me entrance.

I went straight to the smith to repair my armor and sharpen Dawnbreaker, then headed to the inn for a few hours sleep. Something about the snow and mist made me want to eat a bowl of hot stew and curl up under some thick furs and wool blankets. I wasn't very hungry though, so I just paid for a room and went straight to bed.