Chapter Sixteen

Gaeolin leaned against the fence in front of the Sleeping Giant. Stump, Frodnar’s dog, chased a chicken with great enthusiasm. The afternoon seemed to be frozen. Even the river looked sluggish. 

He had sent a courier to Lakeview before he’d left Whiterun. Inigo should have been here by now. The clattering of the sawn logs at the mill and the beating of Alvor’s hammer mingled, creating a song of labor throughout the town. Gaeolin was just thinking of going inside when he saw the Khajiit running down the road. He panted as he stopped, giving his friend a wave.

“Problems?” Gaeolin asked with a smirk. “I was worried you weren’t going to show up.”

“I was coming… I just had to make sure Maisha was comfortable before I left.” He held his side, apparently suffering a cramp from his run. “Faendal sends his regards.”

“He wasn’t too put upon by the surprise child, was he?” Gaeolin hadn’t gotten the chance to warn his steward about the new member of the household. At least, not before she had already arrived. 

“Not at all, he seemed delighted to have someone to talk to now. He did ask about when you planned on coming home next. He thinks you need a cow.”

Gaeolin stared. “Why would I need a cow?”

“Milk, cheese, butter, something to plow with. He makes a good point.”

“I’m never home. What do I care if there’s no fresh milk?”

“You should. Maisha needs proper food.”

Gaeolin drew his palm across his face in frustration. “Can we please focus on the horn for now. I’ll deal with all of this later. If Faendal wants a cow, he can get one. I gave him the key to the safe.” They made their way to the door, entering the Sleeping Giant. 

As he had been thinking on his trip, Gaeolin noticed something odd about this whole situation. The Inn didn’t have an attic, at least none he knew of. He looked behind the bar just to be sure. He frowned, reading the note once again. Orgnar looked his way.

“Need a drink?”

“A room actually…” Gaeolin was about to question him about the attic, but was cut off.

“I’m just the cook, lad. Talk to Delphine if you want to rent a bed.” The wood elf glowered at the less than helpful host. Orgnar couldn’t be that much older than him… Shaking the frustration away, he instead sought Delphine. She sat at a table near the alchemy lab, a mug in hand when he approached.

“Need a room?” 

Gaeolin held out his coins. “Um… I’d like the attic room…” Her face stiffened, eyes fixing on him intently.

“Attic room, eh? Well, we don’t have an ‘attic room’. But you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home.” She took his gold, motioning to the door on the other side of the room. He and Inigo glanced at each other in silent discourse. Was Delphine in on this?

They were answered as soon as she entered the room. She inspected Gaeolin. “So you’re the Dragonborn I’ve been hearing so much about. I think you’re looking for this.” She reached into a bag at her waist, withdrawing the carved stone horn. It had to be from the tomb. It’s style was a perfect match to the sarcophagus. Gaeolin took it, not sure what to make of this. “We need to talk. Follow me.”

The three of them crossed over to a room near the bar. Delphine eyed them both as they entered. “Close the door.” Inigo looked to Gaeolin. He didn’t like it. Not one bit… However, the Elf nodded for him to obey. As the latch clicked, the Innkeeper opened the wardrobe, pulling back a hidden panel to reveal a set of stairs. “Now we can talk.”

Inigo twitched as they entered the cellar. There were weapons on the walls, all gleaming with sharp edges. He pinned his ears back, glaring at the woman in suspicion. He waited until she looked away, loosening his dagger in its sheath. If they needed to fight, he would be ready.

Gaeolin followed her to the table. She leaned against it before looking his way. “The Greybeards seem to think you’re Dragonborn. I hope they’re right.”

He crossed his arms, a look of skepticism washing over him. “You’re the one who took the horn?”

“Surprised? I guess I’m getting pretty good at my harmless innkeeper act.”

Inigo hung back by the stairs, occasionally looking up at them. “We were expecting someone… taller.”

Delphine grinned at the comment. “Good. The point of hiding is to be someone you’re not.”

“What do you want with me?” Gaeolin snapped. “You drug me all the way across Skyrim, disrupting my work, for what?”

“It was the only way I could make sure it wasn’t a Thalmor trap. I am not your enemy. I already gave you the horn. I just need you to hear me out.”

He gave a short bob of the head. “Go on. I’m listening.” Inigo made his way to the table, still tense.

Delphine seemed to relax a bit. “Like I said in my note, I’ve heard that you might be Dragonborn. I’m part of a group that’s been looking for you… Well, someone like you, for a very long time. If you really are Dragonborn, that is. Before I tell you anymore, I need to be sure I can trust you.”

Gaeolin walked behind her, looking at Inigo for a moment. “Of the three in this room, I’m pretty sure we need to be asking ourselves that question.”

She turned to face him. “If you don’t trust me, you were fools to walk in here in the first place.”

Inigo thought to himself that they were most certainly guilty of that. “Why are you looking for a Dragonborn?”

She looked to a map that lay before her. “We remember what most don’t… That the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragonslayer.” She returned to Gaeolin. “You’re the only one who can kill a dragon permanently by devouring it’s soul. Can you do it? Can you devour a dragon’s soul?”

The bosmer thought the wording seemed a bit barbaric, but fitting enough. “Yes, that’s how I first learned I was Dragonborn. So, what’s the part you’re not telling me?”

“Dragons aren’t just coming back, they’re coming back to life. They weren’t gone somewhere all these years. They were dead. Killed off by predecessors. Now something’s happening to bring them back to life. And I need you to help me stop it.”

Gaeolin stared, his eyebrow rising more and more the longer he looked at her. “You do realize this is-”

“Crazy? Insane? As ridiculous as a dancing, five legged spider on Saturalia?”

The elf looked to Inigo, not even surprised by the outburst at this point. “Yes… That last one, exactly.”

“Is it crazy?” Delphine gave a quiet laugh. “A few years ago, I said the same thing to a colleague of mine. Well, it turned out he was right, and I was wrong.”

Gaeolin let silence rule for a moment, finally relenting. “So where are we headed?”

She pointed to the map. “Kynesgrove. There’s an ancient dragon burial mound there. If we can get there before it happens, maybe we’ll learn how to stop it.”

He inspected the map. It was actually a rubbing. Taken from something he could have sworn he’d seen before. “This is…”

“Yeah, thanks for that by the way.” She grinned. “Let me get into my traveling gear, and we can head out.” She rummaged in her chest as the two made their way upstairs. Inigo grabbed his arm, pulling him over to a shadowy part of the tavern. 

“My friend, I don’t like this… She’s hiding something.”

Gaeolin nodded. “I know, but what choice do we have but to go with her? If it’s true, and Kynesgrove is in danger, we need to help them.”

The cat hissed under his breath. “Fine… But I’m not convinced.”