Freystein's Tale: Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath (Ch. 12)

• Posted by Incomitatus March 20, 2014 - 946 views

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  I awoke early, stiff and covered in dried blood that cracked and fell off me in black flakes when I stretched. I cleaned off as best I could in a washbasin and donned my leather and chain armor. My heavy iron curaiss was a mess from the previous night's fight, and would need some serious repair.
  
  After a quick breakfast of cheese and salmon, I stepped out into a grey morning. A heavy fog blanketed everything and thunder rumbled in the distance. Few people were about so early, only some guards and a white-haired old man vigorously chopping wood.
  
  I walked over to the elder, thinking to ask for information on the Jarl and several minutes later I walked away knowing no more about Siddgeir than when I started. I wasn't quite sure what happened, I hadn't been able to get a word in and next thing I knew I was carrying the ashes of a dead warrior I had promised to deliver to some priest.
  
  So long as the dead man didn't mind waiting for his final rest until after I spoke to the Jarl, I didn't mind escorting him to it.
  
  No guards challenged me as I walked up to the longhouse doors and I drew a deep breath before throwing them open and striding in.
  
  The hall was dark, but the Jarl sat on a throne at the far end, surrounded by many candles. He was slouched in an arrogant pose and didn't stir as I approached. He seemed bored, as though armed men bursting into his hall were a regular occurrence.
  
  I came to a stop a few feet before his throne, my eyes fixed on his.
  
  We regarded each other for a moment before he spoke in a dull tone, "And who do you think you are, that you present yourself before a Jarl, unsummoned, and attired for war?"
  
  His eyes shifted, briefly, to a point behind my left shoulder when he finished, and I turned my head to look that way. An alfar woman in fine clothes had stepped from the shadows and stood watching me, a faint glow around her right hand.
  
  A mage. I hate magic.
  
  I glanced back to Siddgeir and a faint smile played across his lips as he slowly shifted his glance to behind my right shoulder. I looked that way, and saw a huge man in scaled armor, the skull of some beast decorating his shoulder. He hadn't drawn a weapon, yet, but his hands were flexing like he was impatient to.
  
  I hadn't seen the two when I entered, hidden in the shadows as they were.
  
  A trap. I could suddenly hear my own heart beat. This was bad.
  
  I looked back to Siddgeir, a sinister grin on his face, and drew myself up to my full height, shoving my anxiety aside.

  "I am Freystein Gaefumathr, The Lucky Man, Defender of Riverwood, Slayer of Bandits," I declared with more confidence than I felt, "I have come to inform you that the men who seized Embershard Mine and preyed upon innocent travelers have been slain by my hand, as have the brigands who sought to control the Falkreath-Helgen road."
  
  Siddgeir raised his eyebrows and mockingly replied, "I see, and what of Helgen? Did you destroy it, too?"
  
  The question took me aback, and he continued, "Or am I to believe the rumours that it was a... dragon?"
  
  "No," I stammered, "it was a wyrm...dragon, I was there, saw it with my own eyes..."
  
  He cut me off with a grunt, and the mirth was gone when he said, "I find that very difficult to believe, but it is of no matter. What you have openly confessed is... enough."
  
  A look of confusion must have slipped onto my face.

  "You don't understand?" he asked, leaning forward. "Let me explain it to you," - a note of anger stirring in his words - "First, you say you are from Riverwood? Riverwood is in Whiterun Hold and Embershard Mine and the Helgen-Falkreath Road are in Falkreath Hold, my Hold. By what authority do you enforce punishment here? Not mine, certainly, for I've never seen you before. Did you perchance pick up a bounty letter that would provide some justification for your actions? Don't bother answering, for I haven't issued one."
  
  I said nothing, he drummed his fingers on his throne for what seemed like an eternity before continuing.
  
  "Well then, only two possibilities remain," and with that he suddenly sat up and called out, "Skulnar! Is this man one of yours, an agent perhaps?"
  
  I turned in the direction the Jarl had shouted and an armored Imperial stepped out of a room, looked me up and down and replied, "No, Jarl Siddgeir, I've never seen this man before in my life and I expect no operatives to report in just now."
  
  "I see," the Jarl said, as I turned back to him, "Well, then, that settles it. You are a murderer and a savage."
  
  I growled and now my hand was itching to draw steel, but I knew that would be suicide.
  
  The Jarl leaned forward and the anger in his voice was unmistakable now, "Oh, you don't like being called a murderer? What else should I call you? The denizens of Embershard may have been brigands like you say but they were MY brigands and not yours to deal with. And what of the woman you killed last night in my inn? I hear she drew on you, but she was down on one knee when you drove your sword into her heart. You are a vigilante at best, a murderer at worst, and one who desecrates bodies if, as you admit, that little handiwork by the road a few days ago was yours," his voice had risen to a shout, "I would be fully within my rights to have my Steward and Housecarl slay you where you stand and call it justice!"
  
  He leaned back in his throne then as a wisp of a smile again played across his lips.
  
  "Better yet," he said after a moment, "I could have you stripped naked and thrown in our gaol. You've slain a dozen or so bandits, which is quite impressive, but the man we have down there now tore a little girl limb from limb and left barely enough of her to bury. I could take wagers on which of you lives long enough to meet the headsman... my money would be on him, if you must know."
  
  I stood dumbly, completely shocked by the Jarl's reaction, and unsure how to escape what was looking like certain death. Siddgeir let me stand there for a full minute, before he smiled that villainous smile again.

  "Of course," he said matter-of-factly," you've proven yourself quite adept at clearing mines of vermin. Maybe that does make you the 'lucky' man, because a man like you can be useful to someone in my position. I may have... had some dealings with some unsavory types, but they've outlived their usefulness. Go to Bilegulch Mine and kill everyone you find there and all will be forgiven. Do not even think of refusing or of trying to run to the safety of some other Hold, there are... resources... I can call upon in Falkreath that will find you and end you wherever you go. So go to Bilegulch, and either leave no one alive or get yourself killed. Either way, do not show your face in my hall again unless you have succeeded... or I will find out if you are tougher than a young girl."

  "Now," he waved his hand, "get out of my sight."

  He didn't have to tell me twice, I turned and walked as quickly toward the door as I could while maintaining a small bit of dignity, but before I made it the alfar woman grabbed my arm and brought me to a halt.
  
  "He is not lying," she whispered, "he can have you killed wherever you go, and he will. He might even if you do this deed for him, just for his own amusement, especially if you take too long. Do not tarry. If you succeed, and survive, find me when you return."
  
  I nodded, she released me, and I left the hall. It had begun to rain while I was with the Jarl and I just stood in the street, my face turned upward to feel the cool drops on my skin.
  
  Alvor had implied that Siddgeir might have something to do with the bandits. Now I was certain of it... I couldn't find the leader at Embershard because he was sitting on a throne in Falkreath. And now he wanted me to clean up more of his outlaw associates.
  
  I would do it. I would do it to stay alive and to get into Siddgeir's good graces, if I could. He'd let me live, and that was a mistake on his part. I would find a way to bring him down, even if it took years, for the humiliation he'd just visited upon me.
  
  But first I would just let the rain wash my fear away.