Northbound Pilgrimage II

Chapter CIX - Cornered Prey

Author's Note:

There is a perspective shift in the following chapter that I thought I should introduce a bit.

Bishop tells Aeyrin about what happened while they were apart for the few hours, but while she hears it from his perspective, you will see it from a different character's one. The shift comes very early in the story, Bishop's retelling is only used as a framing device here to help make the timeline obvious. It should hopefully be a smooth transition though :)

I hope you're all still enjoying the story and that you'll enjoy this chapter as well.

Thank you all for your continued readership. It means a lot to me <3

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"Someone 'found' you?"

Aeyrin's brows creased in concern.

"How? You're always so careful." Did a patrol stumble onto him? He would never let that happen. Especially not now. Not when he had no other things to do but to actually hide and wait until it was safe. It would have been different if there was something going on, if he was distracted, but he was just alone with Karnwyr in the wilderness outside of the city. What could have happened?

"It wasn't exactly some... amateurs that found me," Bishop let out a sigh.

The second he knew that it was them, he knew he was in trouble. No matter what he thought about them, they were formidable opponents for certain. And formidable hunters.

With a bounty that size, it was no wonder that they went all out.

What he couldn't figure back then was just how they knew that he would be in the Hold at all. Even if they suspected Aeyrin from bringing him, they were onto him very shortly after she went to Whiterun. They couldn't have even spotted her in the city that fast. But now it all made more sense.

They waited for him. They knew he would come.

And he was luckier than he deserved to be after letting himself be found like that.

...

It was a good day. Good for a hunt.

She could smell it in the air. It always felt crisper, fresher. It wasn't just the peak of winter, it was something more. She could always feel it. Today would be a good day.

The Silver Hand got sloppy. Not just sloppy, they pissed her off. They ambushed her and Skjor on one of their own hunts. She loved going hunting just with him. They would run the Whiterun plains together by the moonlight, the winter wind caressing their manes. Prey was easy to find during the night hours. Bandit camps, marauders on the roads when the patrols were low. It was invigorating. And she especially loved it when they retreated in the morning hours into one of the caves by the plains to spend the rest of the time entangled with each other.

But a few nights ago, they ambushed them, right in the thick of it. Just when they had taken care of a small bandit clan occupying a mine north of Whiterun, the Silver Hand scum showed up. They thought that they would get them, tired after the battle. But even through all their own hunts, they still didn't learn not to underestimate the wolves.

They were slaughtered. Almost to the last. But one of them wavered. And she ran. Skjor followed while Aela took care of the rest and he was able to track the bitch down to one of their hideouts.

Sloppy.

Too bad Skjor couldn't join Aela to finish them off there today. The runner managed to wound him. It wasn't too serious, but he would be better off taking a break. She insisted on it. She wouldn't lose him to stupidity.