Stallion of Whiterun (Skyrim Balgruuf SI) Chapter 19 (Patreon)

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"I see..." Jarl Hoag muttered. His face showed no external reaction other than quiet acceptance. It made discerning his mood difficult. The reactions of Hrolfdir and Igmund were more pronounced however.

"An Imperial Prince is coming here?" Hrolfdir blinked, surprise on his face. "Why were we not told of this? Why was I not told of this?"

"But is the Empire here on our behalf...or the Reachmen?" Igmund muttered, earning a frown from his father.

"Prince Castor must be on our side. If the Empire accepts the Reachmen as a new kingdom, it establishes a dangerous precedent!" Hrolfdir argued. "The Lizardmen have long since deserted the Empire, Morrowind is in ashes. Valenwood and Elsweyr are under the Dominions thumb and the Empire has sold off the Redguards to be brutalized by the elves! Will the Emperor be so foolish as to sign off on Skyrim?"

"Only one way to guarantee that it does not happen, my lords," Balgruuf spoke up. "Markarth must be retaken before the Prince arrives. The Reachmen have revolted against Nordic rule, our rule, and Skyrim's ownership of it must be restored." Balgruuf saluted Hrolfdir, his voice turning grand as he proclaimed. "I offer you my help, Jarl Hrolfdir. Payments of silver and gold, as well as supplies of dwarven ingots and the technical expertise on how to use them."

Hrolfdir knew this was coming. What he did not expect however was the desire for the dwarven metals that Markarth was abundant in as well. There was a reason why his Hold troops were armored in the thing. It was tough, more so than the strongest Nordic steel. However, it was a difficult metal to work with as trying to get the thing was a chore in itself, melting dwarven artifacts to form a single ingot. If the Whiterun men wanted to play with metal, he wasn't going to stop them. "Done," he said with a clap. "Gold and silver abound will be yours, Lord Balgruuf. As well as all the dwarven metal you desire."

At that, Hrolfdir turned towards the Jarl of Windhelm, expecting him to offer help but the Jarl simply took on a reflective look, eyes taking on a calculating shine. He glanced up and turned towards Hrolfdir. "Give me a moment to speak with my children, Jarl Hrolfdir. Then, I shall tell you Windhelm's price."

At that, Hrolfdir nodded as Hoag's children went to him, hushed whispers exchanged between them. Hrolfdir and Igmund turned towards Balgruuf, relief in their eyes. "Lord Balgruuf," Hrolfdir began, his tone respectful. "We must talk plans."

"I can raise an army of veterans and volunteers," Balgruuf said as he faced the Jarl and his son. "In this campaign, Jarl Hrolfdir, speed is essential. We cannot afford to besiege your city with the Prince due to arrive. I assume that you have plans?"

"We know secret ways to enter Markarth," Igmund revealed. "We send in a party of brave men to seize control of the gate then we can storm the city."

"I haven't fought Reachmen before. What can be expected of their forces?" Balgruuf quizzed. He needed to know their fighting style, if they were heavily armored or not. To know one's enemy was the best way to win the battle after all.

"They rely heavily on magic like their Breton cousins," Hrolfdir spoke. "You can expect many spellswords in their ranks as well as mercenaries which they have also hired. Orcs mostly." And so they continued their quiet discussion, Balgruuf thinking on his force composition to bear upon Markarth. He knew that with its narrow hilly paths, cavalry was going to be severely limited operating there as cavalry needed space to manoeuvre. More foot then.

"I assume the main roads will be watched. How likely do you think will the Reachmen intercept us?" Balgruuf asked again.

"I think the Reachmen would not bother," Igmund surmised. "Firstly, they know that a direct confrontation with us will not end well. Secondly, they have time on their side. Why risk open battle and lose their army when they can withstand a siege until such time Prince Castor arrives to negotiate with them?"

Balgruuf thought about it. The city had a grace period of five years to run itself. That implied that it also would have prepared for a eventual Nordic reprisal which meant the stocking of food and arms. The Nords however would be fresh out of war and low on resources and energy as the Great War consumed most of it. A siege was expensive and time consuming. Would the Nords really tax and drain their own Kingdom just to retake Markarth?

"I think Lord Igmund's logic is sound," mused Balgruuf. "I would be happy to sit and wait for Imperial negotiators to arrive rather than risk my forces to face an army of angry and veteran Nords."

"We mustn't let our guard down however. The Reachmen would still try and harass us as we go through the Reach," Hrolfdir warned. Balgruuf nodded. He wasn't going to let himself nor his army be complacent in their march. He survived the Great War by being paranoid. He would have to think about every possible avenue of attack the Reachmen might have.

"My lords!" Jarl Hoag announced. "My children and I have discussed what we desire."

At that, the three men turned towards the Bear of Windhelm, looking smug and pleased with himself. At his side, Ulfric looked uncertain and Freyja failed to keep a look of irritation off her. Not good omens. Balgruuf felt stomach churn as the old Jarl leaned back and smiled. "Jarl Hrolfdir, Windhelm would be happy to lend its men to you. In exchange, I want you to declare your Hold as a haven for the worship of Talos."

"Father, we do not have the authority to-" Ulfric began but the Bear of Markarth frowned.

"The Emperor himself does not have the authority to declare the worship of Talos illegal!" snapped Hoag. His chair groaned as the Bear of Windhelm stood to his full height. He was broad-shouldered, tall, and despite his age was heavily muscled. His shadow was cast over the table, over the assembled men. "Who is he, a Mede, to render judgement over Talos as if the Ninth Divine was a common man? Talos, Son of Atmora, is a god and anyone who declares it not so is a fool and worse, a traitor to mankind!"

He took a quick breath, stifling the rage he felt. He glanced towards Hrolfdir. "That is my price for Windhelm's help, Jarl Hrolfdir." Hoag declared, finality in his voice.

Quiet settled in the Jarl's private study as Hrolfdir debated internally. He knew he had no way of granting this without stepping on the Concordats toes. It would irritate the Imperials and the Elves so far away. But he needed help, all the help he could get. But he already had the support of Balgruuf. What did Windhelm possess that was so valuable that he had to give his support for Hoag's zealotry? His eyes settled on Ulfric Stormcloak and he understood whu the price was so steep.

"Jarl Hoag, a suggestion if I may." Balgruuf began. Hoag turned to him and grunted.

"Speak," he gave his assent.

"I am sure that we are all aware that if Jarl Hrolfdir allows this then the Empire will surely be forced by the Elves to fully enact the measures of the Concordat. We all know that the Thalmor have granted themselves the right to investigate parts of the Empire for Talos worship. We all have read the details of the treaty, yes?" Balgruuf said, calmingly. The Jarls all nodded, with Hoag a little bit more hesitant. "However, ever since the treaty was signed, have we all have legionaries molest our people for Talos worship? Have we all magically lost the right to worship Talos in the privacy of our own homes?"

Hoag clicked his tongue. "Get to the point. We aren't in court."

Balgruuf wasted no time. "Asking for Hrolfdir to make Talos worship legal in his Hold will bring the wrath of the elves on us. Thalmor Justiciars will prowl our cities and our lands, hunting down the secret places where Talos may be worshipped. That will drive a wedge between Skyrim and the Empire. From that wedge, tensions will rise and may even one day inspire Nords to rebel. A civil war will come and the Dominion will profit from it."

The idea of a Civil War in Skyrim earned sick looks from the Nords, Ulfric in particular. He went to war for Skyrim, not to murder his brothers and sisters. "And what do you propose then, Lord Balgruuf? That we simply accept Talos be made into a memory?"

"No, Jarl Hoag," Balgruuf impressed diplomatically, hiding his irritation with a serene and understanding look. "A compromise, something which can still remember Talos as he was to us, as he was to the Empire, and as a measure to stick it to the elves as well."

The tension on Hoag's face cracked for a second as intrigue set in. Igmund, recognizing that this could be a measure to soothe the Bear of Windhelm, played his part. "What is this compromise, Lord Balgruuf?"

"Jarl Hroldfir could perhaps fund for the construction of a monument or of Talos in Markarth," Balgruuf suggested. "It must be grand and impressive as to capture the glory of the Son of Atmora. It will be Talos to us, of course, but we can simply call it a monument to Tiber Septim for the Imperials. After all, the city has suffered a period of rule from rebels. It would be important for this monument to be established to remind the people that they belong to a great Empire and not to the rule of rebels."

"We could even add further things to it too. Perhaps we could commission artworks and frescoes that followed his life. A tapestry from his childhood here in Skyrim, to his victory in Old Hroldan, and more," Freyja added, grasping at what Balgruuf was suggesting. It was a stroke of good sense, she felt. It would be a strong sign of defiance for the Nords, it would soothe the wounded image of the Empire, and the Elves could seethe at a monument to the Empire's founder.

Now, the only thing left was for Jarl Hoag to accept that as a compromise. All eyes turned towards the old Jarl who was quietly thinking about the proposal. The quiet was disheartening and worrying as a severe look came upon Hoag's face. Then finally, he gave his answer.

"Talos is a god, not a museum piece. This is my final answer. He must be restored to full legal status or you will find no help from Windhelm." He declared.

Balgruuf tried to speak but the Jarl only gave him a look. Balgruuf bit his tongue as Hoag turned his attention back to Hrolfdir. "Think on my demand, Jarl Hrolfdir. I have all the time in the world. In the meantime, prepare yourselves for the feast. This discussion has made me hungry." Hoag declared as he walked off. Ulfric's lips were thin as he walked after his father, exchanging heated whispers. Freyja too walked after them but not before giving Hrolfdir a pitying look...and a uncommonly long glance at Balgruuf.

This look, Irileth quietly noted...as well as the tittering laugh of Mephala.

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A/N: Politics slayy