Stallion of Whiterun (Skyrim Balgruuf SI) Chapter 29 (Patreon)

+++

The clopping of horse-hooves neared him. The clopping stopped as the rider halted. 

"My lords, all damages have been accounted for. A few hundred men are dead or injured. Only a few with the enemy," the rider reported. All around, teams of soldiers moved to put out fires, tear down banners and repair fallen structures. Balgruuf nodded and bid the man to take his leave. There was one final salute before the rider rode off. Behind him, Ulfric spurred his horse forward to be near Balgruuf while ahead, steel boots shook the earth as they marched. 

"We should have been here," Ulfric muttered, shaking his head. 

"That would have defeated the purpose of this exercise, Lord Ulfric," Balgruuf said, eyeing the many banners being torn down. 

The army did not fully funnel into the narrow path-ways of the Reach. To do so would have invited ambush and destruction to their venture. With that in mind, Balgruuf had sent in a advanced force ahead into the paths with twice the amount of banners and lights, to make it look like it was in fact the whole army while the rest would follow cautiously behind. He had even had copies of his personal standard as well as that of Ulfric placed ahead to legitimize the deception. 

And it worked.

Balgruuf strode his horse forward, eyeing the ashy remains of what had been his personal tent. "You all saw how shiny the lights were. The Reachmen will not be taken down easily if they can pull magic tricks like that." 

"Bah!" cried a new yet familiar voice. Balgruuf turned to see that it was Hrongar. His brother sat on a crate, axe resting against his shoulder while his wife stood at his side, arms crossed. Hrongar would continue.

"The whole lot of the bastards conjured animals and dremora to fight for them. The only ones worth a damn were few," spat Hrongar. He was dressed in full kit yet had little blood on him. 

He noted the interested look on his brother's face and explained. "They fucked off before I could even find someone to fight, the bastards." He finished, his voice not bothering to hide his frustration.

"No different than us fighting the Dominion then," Balgruuf observed. He rose an eyebrow as Hrongar laughed.

"Yes, if the Dominion were quick sorcery lobbing cowards who'd run away after the first or second fireballs," Hrongar said, shaking his head. 

​"What now then? We continue on?" Ulfric spoke up over the din. 

​He shook his head. "No, let the army pause and get their sleep. I doubt the Reachmen will attack us again a second time with the full army here. Continue repairing the camp and set up tents. We can link up with Jarl Hrolfdir in the morning." 

And with that, the army settled. Campfires were relit, tents newly established, and the the stockade repaired. Sleep came easy for Balgruuf that night, Irileth watching over him quietly. The night was uneventful and the army rose up to a bright and warm sun. 

A good omen. 

​Breakfast was served, the tents were pulled down, and the army geared up to continue on. They passed on without incident, the Reachmen more than likely not able to mount an assault like they did the previous night. Eventually, the Whiterun and Windhelm contingent arrived at the agreed rally point. Jarl Hrolfdir would arrive not too soon, the Ram banner of Markarth flying high and proud under the valley breeze. 

And he was not alone. 

Balgruuf watched with interest at the other banners flying alongside the Markarth ones. A red banner depicting a wolf. He was ahead at the tip of his force, Irileth at his side. Accompanying him was Hrongar and Freydis, now mounted, as well as Ulfric and his housecarl. They watched as Jarl Hrolfdir and his son trotted over to them, a third rider and his guard joining them. 

The Nords quickly saluted towards the third rider, a young man in armor. His eyes were bright and welcoming, his red hair tied into a ponytail. From head to toe, he was clad in armor. Embroidered plate with Nordic etchings on the metal. On his chest was a single gorget depicting a crowned Wolf. Around his belt, a longsword that hummed faintly of magicka. Balgruuf took a breath and cried out. 

"Hail, Prince Torygg!" he declared grandly. Behind him, his guard all unsheathed their blades and held it sky-high in salute.

​Prince Torygg smiled warmly, nodding towards Balgruuf and bidding the others to drop their salutes. "Please., lower your weapons, my friends. I am not the High King, merely the Crown Prince." 

"Propriety must be observed, Your Royal Highness," Balgruuf said with a smile, the picture-perfect look of a loyal servant. Inwardly, his thoughts were in a flurry. 

What the flying hell was Torygg doing here, with an army no less? He could not properly count how many troops the Prince had brought but it was significant. Something must have prompted Torygg to join in, he thought. Whatever passed for continuity had long since been skewered so might as well make it worse. The Whiterun Jarling briefly eyed Jarl Hrolfidr and found his expression to be muted. He was going to ask his fellow Jarl what the hell was going on.

"Will his Royal Highness join the campaign?" Ulfric asked, expression muted. 

​Torygg hummed, glancing at the army ahead of him before looking back to Balgruuf. "I am. How could I in good conscience allow my future subjects to fight to reclaim my kingdom while I stayed in Solitude? No, I will ride out to fight for it as you all have done."

Balgruuf took a moment to think on the Princeling's answer. Torygg did not show any initiative at all, as far as he knew. He was a mundane and uninteresting man, content in the status quo of Solitude and focused mostly in adoring his wife, Elisif. If Torygg had gone out fight then something must have changed. This was something he wouldn't do. He surely would have been convinced to do this, or his father was.

He turned his attention back to Torygg.

"Will his Royal Highness take command of the armies?" Balgruuf inquired quickly. Might as well get it out of the way.To his surprise, the Prince shook his head.

"I shan't. Jarl Hrolfdir has informed me that you have been placed as the commander of this army and I will not intrude on that. Instead, I shall be a force at your disposal, Lord Balgruuf," Torygg said with a smile. But before Balgruuf could reply, Torygg continued.

"I am here to represent my father. He wishes he could come but he is too ill to make the journey. He as deigned me to inform you that you have his blessing and his support to reclaim the Reach."

At that, he took out his sword. There was flash as its steel kissed the sun. Torygg strode his horse forward and halted before Balgruuf. He held it up, pointing its end towards Balgruuf. With the smile not having left his face, Torygg spoke loudly. 

"Will you join swords with me, Lord Balgruuf? For High King and Skyrim?"

Balgruuf smiled, pulling his weapon out and crossing blades with Torygg. With a equally warm smile, Balgruuf replied.

"I will be honoured," Balgruuf said, resisting the urge to grit his teeth. 

​+++

A/N: Politics.