Northbound Pilgrimage II

Chapter CXLVI - Clever Men

Aeyrin paced in front of the longhouse nervously.

It was taking so long. Why was everything taking so long? Her nerves were a wreck. She tried to play this stupid game. She went back to the inn, with no other avenues whatsoever, and she ignored the whispering locals as she retreated to the room again. All Bishop's things were still there. She wasn't even entirely sure if he had some lockpicks in his pocket, if it came to that. He was forced to walk out of the inn, barefoot and in nothing but his trousers.

She tried to 'get some rest'. She needed to wait until the morning anyway. But sleep didn't come. Maybe she dozed off for a bit in her exhaustion, but she didn't remember it. She just remembered tossing and turning in panic. How did this happen so suddenly? Was it just a coincidence that the anonymous tattle-tale struck now? Or were they here? Did they know that Bishop was here? That he would be arrested?

Who would do this to him? And why? Why not claim the bounty instead? Then the motive would at least be clear! This was just so confusing. And so frustrating.

The worst part was that... she didn't know how to help him. What could she even do to help him? Reason with the Jarl about the ridiculousness of the bounty? Plead and cry until he took pity on her? Argue with him until he relented? Kill a dragon for him? She certainly didn't have enough money to bribe someone like him.

She was at a loss.

She felt completely exhausted, sleep-deprived and stressed, but she still couldn't let that overtake her even for a second. The second the first ray of morning sun peeked through the room's window, she rushed outside again, towards the longhouse.

And she was told to wait.

The Jarl was taking his sweet time – still sleeping or bathing or having breakfast or such. The guards by the door always had an excuse for him. She was starting to think that the man was doing this to her on purpose. She felt like she had been pacing there for hours, just drowning in the thoughts of how this would all go.

It was going to be a disaster. Nothing in this city ever worked out. She was going to mess up and she was going to have to break Bishop out of prison and she would get caught and then he would get executed anyway.

No. She couldn't let that happen. She would get him out of there, no matter the cost.

She just had to... improvise. She could do that. Just as long as she was doing something and not just pacing out here helplessly. She spotted the Penitus agent from last night walk by sometimes as he shot her a sympathetic look, but other than that, nobody paid attention to her. The guards seemed to ignore her and it was clear from the lack of angry mobs that the reason for Bishop's arrest hasn't been made public.

She had no idea what that could mean. She would be grateful for that fact, but since she had no idea what the Jarl was intending, she couldn't bring herself to look at any of this positively.

"Hey!" suddenly a voice tore her away from her doom-musing. She turned around sharply – she knew where it came from. The longhouse. "The Jarl's in audience now, in case you were interested or something," the guard by the door chuckled at her meanly.

She couldn't even bring herself to get annoyed at his mocking tone. She just sprang forth and ran towards the door.

No matter what, she would get Bishop out of this alive.

...

"Dragonborn!"

The man on the throne grinned at her enthusiastically the second she stepped inside. A dark-haired Nord. He looked quite young for a Jarl, no older than in his mid-twenties. Then again, Elisif could have been just as young too and she was the High Queen. He was wearing quite lavish clothing and he was adorned with expensive-looking jewelry. She couldn't help but wonder if it was normal for a Jarl or if most of this was just the result of his corrupt dealings.