Chapter 34: Way of the Voice: Part 3
We returned to the stables beyond the gates of Whiterun. The morning sun had risen fully by now, casting long, golden rays over the fields. The air smelled of hay and dust. Lydia stood beside me in silence, arms folded across her chest. Uthgerd leaned on the fence nearby, one foot propped up, casually observing me like I hadn't noticed or like she didn't care at all.
We stood waiting for the carriage to show—until a voice called from behind us.
"There won't be a carriage here today."
I turned. A rugged Nord man approached us from the side of the barn, wiping dirt from his hands on a tattered cloth. His clothes were stained with soil and sweat, and his dark hair was tied in a loose knot. He had a kind of straightforward grit in his tone that didn't leave room for arguments.
"Why not?" I asked, Is he trying to sell me his horses? I wondered, looking at the stable behind him.
He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised I didn't know. "Haven't you heard about the dragon attacks? Some have taken a break for a while, at least until Jarl sends word the roads are safe again."
He paused.
"You can always buy a horse." His eyes scanned the three of us, me, Lydia, and Uthgerd. "Or two. Maybe three, if your pockets are deep enough."
I knew it
"How much?" I asked, already knowing the answer, at least hoping to know it.
He shrugged. "A thousand septims apiece."
I sighed. At least some things are the same.
With a quiet thought, I summoned my inventory window. The interface hovered in my face, invisible to the others. My gold count displayed at the top right: 2970 septims.
'I can afford two,' I thought, we don't need to carry supplies on them, just ourselves.
I nodded. "I'll take two."
Skulvar smiled and motioned for us to follow. We walked behind the stable as he gestured proudly at two stallions, dark brown fur, easily mistakable for black. "How about these two? They're full brothers, raised together from foals, strong, fast, trained for the road."
They looked alert, intelligent, and well-fed, too. I stepped closer, running a hand over the muscular neck of the nearest one. Its flank twitched at my touch, but it didn't shy away.
Quite fearless, ey? I said, a smile on my face.
"I'll take them," I said, handing over the gold. Skulvar began prepping saddles and reins
Skulvar nodded, "And what's your name?" he asked me.
"Darius Wolfhart."
I stepped back toward the road, leaving Lydia and Uthgerd to supervise the exchange. My feet carried me to the edge of the fence, where the dirt path stretched toward the city gate.
For one reason—Carlotta.
She returned from the farm, the wooden crate balanced against her hip, now filled to the brim with vegetables and fruit. Her hair caught on the sheen of her skin, the flush in her cheeks from strain, not makeup.
"Carlotta," I said as I walked toward her.
She looked up and paused, her lips parting in surprise. "Darius… I thought you'd left already."
"That was the plan," I replied, stepping in and relieving her of the crate. It vanished into the inventory, just like before. "But I guess the gods don't want us to part ways just yet."
A quiet breath escaped her, part laugh, part sigh. Her eyes lingered on mine. "That's…"
I grinned.
Behind me, I waved briefly at Lydia and Uthgerd, gesturing for them to stay put for now. Uthgerd gave me a look but said nothing.
"You don't have to," Carlotta said softly, stepping to the side of the road, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear.
"I want to," I said simply. "Besides, Skulvar's still prepping the horses; we've got a few minutes to spare."
She looked down for a second, then back up at me, "I suppose," her lips curved upwards faintly.
I walked back alongside her.
For the most part, we stayed quiet—just the rhythm of our boots on packed earth and the occasional rustle of the wind through the flags above. It wasn't until we passed under the city gate, where the guards gave me a respectful nod, that Carlotta finally broke the silence.
"Did you purchase a horse?" she asked without looking at me.
"Horses," I corrected softly. "Two of them. Carriages won't be running, not for a few days at least with the dragons about."
She nodded, slowly, and then—an audible sigh escaped her.
I glanced sideways. "What?"
She hesitated. "Why are you helping me so much?"
I arched an eyebrow. "Is that a complaint?"
"No—no, I didn't mean it like that," she said quickly. "It's just… do you want to—" she cut herself off, bit her bottom lip, and looked away.
I knew what she meant.
'Alright,' I thought. 'Time for yet another Oscar-worthy monologue.'
"I didn't help you," I began, "I bumped into you the first time, knocked over your apples, and paid for the damage. Not because I was chivalrous or flirting. But because I felt bad."
She opened her mouth, but I didn't let her speak yet.
"Second time—last night." I sighed, pressing fingers to my temple. "I wish I could take credit for being the bold, brave hero who put that bard in his place. But I can't." I looked at her, tone firm now. "I don't remember anything. Not one thing after that drink I took." I shrugged my shoulders. "So no, I'm not playing a game to seduce you or manipulate you."
Carlotta's eyes widened for a moment and softened in shame. I just accused him of being that kind of man
"What—What about now?"
I thought for a moment, letting her question feel more crucial than it was, "You… looked tired carrying the crate."
She stared at me for a long moment, studying me. Then she smiled and chuckled.
"I suppose that's fair."
We resumed walking. The marketplace was quieter than usual. Most stalls hadn't set up yet—just a few early risers laying out bread, cloth, and furs. I brought the crate out of my inventory and placed it gently on her stall table.
I guess this is the final goodbye," I said, dusting my hands.
Carlotta looked around, left, then right, confirming the emptiness of the square. She stepped in closer, enough that I caught the subtle scent of lavender from her tunic.
Then, lightly, she kissed me on the cheek.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For all the help. Even the ones you don't remember."
I grinned, "Are you trying to seduce me?"
"No," she smirked, "You looked in need of a kiss." I chuckled and turned on my heel.
As I left, Carlotta began sorting the vegetables and fruits when a breathless voice interrupted her.
"Did I just see you kiss a man?"
Carlotta froze mid-carrot. She looked up to find a familiar round face, with curly red hair, grinning ear to ear like she'd caught a deer sneaking cookies.
"You must be hallucinating," Carlotta said smoothly, turning her back.
"Oh no. No no. Don't you dare. Who is he? Tell me. Tell me everything." The young woman leaned over the table, hands flat, practically bouncing in place.
Carlotta sighed deeply and muttered, "Stendarr save me."
***
I returned to the stables. The horses were saddled, reins prepped, and standing at attention. They looked even more impressive now.
A faintly glowing runic D, shaped like an hourglass tipped on its side—the flow of sand and time—halted, had been branded onto each one—clearly the mark of ownership.
"My Thane," Lydia called, approaching. "The horses are ready."
She extended her hand, a scroll in her hand, "Ownership scroll," she said. I put it in my inventory without bothering to read it.
Uthgerd stood by the horses, adjusting the harness. She glanced at Lydia, then at me.
"You two ride on one," I said to both of them, "I'll take the other."
"No," Lydia from the side said, eyes locking with mine, "I'd rather ride with you."
I blinked. "You sure?"
She nodded once. "I'm your Housecarl, I need to be near you."
I shrugged, "You'll have to sit in the front." I got up on the larger of the two horses, extending my hand to her.
She took it without hesitation.
I pulled her up in front of me. It would be nearly impossible for her to see anything seated behind my back.
She shifted awkwardly, settling into the saddle. My arms wrapped around her to grip the reins.
"Comfortable?" I asked.
"Y-yeah,"
***
We followed the north road that curled around the base of the Throat of the World, winding through open plains and gentle foothills. Whiterun slowly faded behind us, shrinking to a silhouette framed by the golden light of the setting sun. The smell of Wildflowers and pine drifted on the breeze, and the road ahead remained quiet, save for the steady clop of hooves and occasional chirps of birds settling in for the night ahead.
Uthgerd rode behind me on her horse, vigilant, scanning the distant trees and crags. Lydia sat in front of me, pressed close, her shoulders rigid but silent. She hadn't spoken much since we left.
The sky blushed deep with orange and violet when the narrow valley widened, hugging a violent river, and a tall structure came into view. A tower, perched on the river, with its twin across a stone bridge.
Valtheim Towers.
The river between them gushed with icy vigor, carving the land with a violent force. I slowed our horse, studying the towers.
"Looks quiet," Uthgerd murmured from the side. "Too quiet."
"No campfire. No smoke," Lydia finally spoke, "But something doesn't feel right."
"Could just be abandoned," I offered, but even as I said it, I didn't believe one heard that come out of my mouth.
"Might be worth resting there for the night."
We approached slowly, the creak of leather and clop of hooves echoing along the stone.
Then—movement.
A man stepped from the shadowed arch of the first tower, a dirt bandana tied around his brow and a chipped iron axe resting on his shoulder. He raised his hand casually, smirking.
"Stop right there."
I tugged the reins. Our horses halted. Their breath steamed in the cooling air.
The man's grin widened. "Road tax. You wanna use this road, you gotta pay up."
"And if we don't?" I asked calmly, scanning the walls.
He chuckled, slow and theatrical. Then he whistled sharply through his fingers.
Another figure stepped into view on the upper parapet, this one holding a bow, already drawn. The string creaked slightly as he adjusted his aim, arrow nocked and pointed at my chest.
I sighed inwardly. Of course
"How much?" I asked, my tone neutral, buying time. My eyes flicked to every corner of shadows in windows, crevices in the stone. At least two… no, three figures behind the far tower just out of clear sight.
"Five hundred gold," he said smoothly.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Then another stepped out, this one heavier, wearing rust-steel armor. His helm was off, revealing a cruel sneer and a jagged scar running from chin to ear. A true marauder. His gaze landed on Lydia, then on Uthgerd, appraising them like meat.
"And one of the women," he added with a smirk. "You don't really need two, do you?"
My lips twitched.
Lydia stiffened in my arms, and Uthgerd's hand slid halfway to her sword.
"How about," I said, voice low, even, "I just kill you all?"
The man with the axe barked a laugh. The armored thug chuckled along with him, exchanging looks.
"You think you can take on fifteen men?" the first one said, voice rising with mockery.
That's all I wanted to know
The armored one paused, and the grin vanished from his face in a second.
"Kill him," he said.
The bow twanged above.
Foosh!
Squelch!
****
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