A Stranger in Skyrim 19

Chapter Nineteen: The Western Watchtower

In which her competence is over-estimated.

“A dragon! How exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?” Farengar was unreasonably excited.

Irileth was not impressed. “I'd take this a bit more seriously if I were you. If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun, I don't know if we can stop it.” Personally, Mariah agreed with Irileth. The idea of a dragon destroying Whiterun … she could picture Lucia burning to death in a dragon's flames. The very concept horrified her. The city destroyed, its people slaughtered in the streets … she could imagine it vividly.

Farengar's informant walked out past them. Despite her apparent interest in the dragons' return, she didn't seem to want to know about the dragon attack. Or maybe she just had somewhere important to be, somewhere that wasn't about to be attacked by a dragon.

Mariah shrugged, following Irileth and Farengar out of the room. One of the guards joined their group on the way up a set of stairs she hadn't actually noticed before.

“So,” the Jarl began. “Irileth tells me you came from the western watchtower?”

The guard nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

“Tell him what you told me,” Irileth said. “About the dragon.”

The guard looked slightly uncomfortable, under his face-concealing helmet. “Uh … that's right. We saw it coming from the south. It was fast … faster than anything I've ever seen.”

“What did it do?” The Jarl demanded. “Is it attacking the watchtower?”

The guard shook his head. “No, my lord. It was just circling overhead when I left. I never ran so fast in my life – I thought it would come after me for sure.”

“Good work, son. We'll take it from here.” The Jarl clapped the man on the shoulder with a confident smile. “Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it.” He turned his attention to his housecarl. “Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there.”

The woman nodded. “I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate.”

“Good. Don't fail me.” Then, the Jarl turned his attention to Mariah. “There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friend. I need your help again. I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this dragon.”

A choked noise of disbelief escaped her. “Me?”

“You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here,” he pointed out. Damn his logic, but he was right.

She shook her head. “My lord,” she said, figuring she'd use the more familiar term for his office, “I mostly just ran for my life. I don't know that I'm the best choice ….”

“Nonsense. You'll do fine.” He smiled, and she almost felt … competent. Like she could maybe handle what fate apparently had in store for her. “But,” he said, and this time he clapped her shoulder. “I haven't forgotten the service you did for me in retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar. As a token of my esteem, I have instructed Avenicci that you are now permitted to purchase property within the city. Furthermore, I will have my servants choose another item for you from my personal armory.”

She gave a small bow. “Thank you, my lord.”

“I should come along,” Farengar spoke up. “I should very much like to see this dragon for myself.”

The Jarl shook his head. “No. I can't afford to risk both of you. I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these dragons.”

“As you command.”

Jarl Balgruuf looked towards his housecarl once more. “One last thing, Irileth. This isn't a death or glory mission. I need to know what we're dealing with.”

“Don't worry, my lord.” There was an odd glint to the elf's eyes. “I'm the very soul of caution.”

Somehow, Mariah didn't think that was true.

It was still raining as she followed Irileth out of Dragonsreach. Lightning lit up the sky. She tugged the hood up a little tighter around her head, moving as quickly as her legs would take her.

They met up with four guards at the main gate. Three of them wore horned helmets, rather than the standard face-concealing mask most guards wore. The fourth had apparently decided to stick to his normal uniform. A cynical part of her suspected that he'd be the one to die first.

“Here's the situation,” the housecarl announced. “A dragon is attacking the western watchtower!”

One guard gasped. “A dragon?”

“Now we're in for it ….” Number Three (he was third from her left) shook his head.

The housecarl continued as though she hadn't been interrupted. “You heard right! I said a dragon!” Irileth seemed to relish the chance to give a speech. She continued, with gusto. “I don't much care where it came from, or who sent it. What I do know is that it's made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!”

“But housecarl …” Guard Two began. “How can we fight a dragon?”

The elf paused. “That's a fair question. None of us has ever seen a dragon before, nor expected to face one in battle. But we are honorbound to fight it, even if we fail. This dragon is threatening our homes, our families!” Irileth paused, looking straight at Guard Two. “Could you call yourselves Nords if you ran from this monster? Are you going to let me face this thing alone?”

“No, housecarl!”

Guard number one whispered, so it was barely audible above the rain. “We're so dead.” Privately, Mariah agreed with him. She knew she, at least, was not making it out of an encounter with a dragon alive. Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup. That proverb was at the forefront of her mind.

“But it's more than our honor at stake here,” the housecarl continued. “Think of it – the first dragon seen in Skyrim since the last age! The glory of killing it is ours, if you're with me! Now what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?!”

The guards cheered.

It was a rousing speech.

Now if only the sinking feeling of impending doom would just go away.

“Let's move out.”

She followed Irileth and the guardsmen at some distance, praying to no one in specific that maybe, just maybe, the dragon wouldn't even see her. She didn't normally think of herself as a coward, but she was terrified. And still she was heading toward her ultimate demise like an idiot.

What fun.

The rain passed shortly after they left the city. They followed the road west, until they came across a destroyed tower. Parts of it were still burning from dragonfire, and rubble was strewn everywhere.

“No signs of any dragon right now, but it sure looks like he's been here.” Irileth looked over at the guardsmen. “I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And, if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere. Spread out, and look for survivors. We need to know what we're dealing with.” All of the warriors unsheathed their weapons. Mariah? Her mind was her greatest weapon.

Too bad she'd rotted it by playing video games all the time ….

The others spread out. She walked up to the tower itself, picking her way through the rubble carefully, so as not to have her robe catch on fire. A guardsman hesitantly edged out towards the door as she approached. “No! Get back!” He cried. “It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!”

“It's all right,” she said, trying to radiate confidence she didn't feel. “We brought more men.”

He shook his head. “Don't you understand? It'll just kill you all!” He looked up, and horror dawned on his face. “Kynareth save us – here he comes again!”