Skyrim's Saviors

49: Red Meridwulf

"Aela, will you be my Shield-Sister for this mission to retrieve Avulstien from the Dark Brotherhood, or whoever has him? I want Farkas to remain here, with Mingan and Otsana."

"Harbinger, it would be my honor."

I smile at her. "Then let's not delay."

When we reach the stables, Eorlund Gray-Mane stands beside our horses. He wordlessly nods, handing me a Skyforge steel sword and dagger, and handing Aela a new shield.

"Please," he says. "Find my son. My wife cannot bear to lose another son because of the Battle-Born."

"We'll find him," Aela says.

"Fralia said she thinks that the assassin tried to return to the Sanctuary, but since they have Avulstein, and she stabbed the assassin, they might not have gotten far."

"We can do this," I say as I mount my horse.

Aela nods. "Stay strong, Eorlund. Vilkas should stay with you until we return, after we have eliminated the threat."

"My question here is, how did they know that my son was there? He never leaves our home, and he's a force to be reckoned with. Whoever did this, they're not to be underestimated."

"That's why we have each other, we don't know what to expect. But for now, we will search in Falkreath first, looking for any signs of them, but we will go the long route, the one where we will pass through Riverwood."

Eorlund nods at me. "Good hunting."

And Aela and I are off, bolting through the open plains of Whiterun Hold. We ride, but as we reach Riverwood, which isn't too far from Whiterun, we see smears of blood on the road. Aela dismounts her horse and draws her bow, inspecting the blood.

The smear leads off into some woods on our left, and Aela turns to me. But before she can speak, an arrow cuts into her upper arm, and she staggers to the side, slips in the blood, and falls down hard on the cobblestones below.

I draw my own bow, nocking an arrow, I send it in the general direction of the archer who shot Aela. I hear a cry of pain and look at Aela.

"Go! Get them!" she cries.

I urge my horse forward, and we bolt into the woods. The forest is darker than the daylight  beyond, but as my werewolf sight adjusts to the dimness of the thick canopy above, I see them. Approximately six of them, all in Brotherhood armor, stand apart and aim their various weapons at me, save for the one archer, the one I'd shot.

I nock an arrow and aim, but one of them shouts.

"No! Not here, if you wish to fight us, do so tomorrow night. The outskirts of Falkreath."

"No," I say. "How about now, you monsters?"

They share looks, but then they surround me.

"You shouldn't have let your Shield-Sister go," one sneers.

"Do your worst, you spineless freaks."

Then, they pounce.