Tamriel Data:The Restless North, Book III

Book Information The Restless North, Book III
Added by	Tamriel Data
ID	T_Bk_RestlessNorthSHOTN_V3
	30		2

The Restless North, Book III

by Alarne Gold-Quill

A tale of Nords, Tsaesci and Draugr

---

"The blood of Laintar will yet be spilled in the service of the Hirser."

The smell of hot camp-bread met the nostrils of Hoari, carpenter and would-be liberator, as he found his way back to the tent. His lover Demka had cooked it flat and dark, the way they both liked it, and as Hoari shakily took his place by the fire she crumbled goats' cheese over a plate of the stuff and passed it across to him. He stared at it as he struggled to explain the words of Pak Stoat-Face in words the Redguard woman would understand.

"We need to make a sacrifice. Tonight, before we sleep. The clever-men told us that the dead are stirring, and that we need to show them a sacrifice of both kindness and strength if we are to be safe. Flour and meat outside the tent door to demonstrate our hospitality, and a mix of ale and blood from our sword-hands to share, so that our camaraderie is sealed. That's what they told us."

Hoari felt better having shared the Stoat-Face's words, and started on his dinner with relish as Demka stared at him over the fire. She was silent as he ate, but when the last morsel of bread disappeared into his whiskered mouth she spoke her mind.

"I have been around you Nords long enough to tolerate your traditions. I know that these little rituals and observances the clever-men give you help you to sleep through the night, and I would not take that away from you. Certainly, let us leave the flour and some meat if you think that will make us some friends of the dead. But my sword-hand is everything to me -- it's my livelihood and my purpose, my love."

Hoari, seeing where her thinking was going, began to protest but Demka cut him off.

"I will not maim myself and spill my own blood before the real battle has actually begun. Do you remember why we are even out here, marching to ice-cursed Danstrar? Besides, where I am from we prove our strength to corpses with a sword through the skull, not drinking each other's blood. And if you really want to prove our unity..." Here she arched an eyebrow. "...I can think of a much more enjoyable way."

Her voice was playful, but her eyes told Hoari that she would brook no argument concerning the cutting of hands. The mesmerising speech of the clever-man Pak was beginning to wear off and in the cold night, with just the two of them, he could not find fault with Demka's words. But he was still uneasy as he set out the flour and meat by the entrance to their tent, and his ministrations in their bedroll were evidently distracted. Eventually he drifted into a disquieted sleep as his lover snored fitfully beside him.

Searing pain yanked Hoari back to consciousness. As he struggled to get his bearings, the vice-like grip on his throat tightened and his vision in the wan dawn light swam and blurred. Finally realising what was happening, Hoari seized his attacker with his own hands and wrenched apart their hold on his windpipe, just enough to breathe. He immediately wished he hadn't, for the smell that filled his lungs was almost impossibly fetid and he thrashed and gagged under the weight of the mad draugr atop him. It seemed tireless and even his strong grasp started to weaken as its claws closed once more around his throat. It was as his strength at last failed that the blade of a sword burst through the creature's rotten face, its shining tip stopping just an inch above Hoari's nose.

"What did I tell you, love?" Demka's voice sang above him, "A sword-blade is the only way to deal with the unruly dead. Now quickly, get yourself out of bed and help me put them down!"

And as the shrieks and shouts finally met his ears, Hoari looked from the ruins of their tent to see a host of corpses swarming through the camp of Thane Rog's leidang. The horde seemed endless and had nearly encircled their tiny host, though the Laintar Nords were holding their own, hacking and cutting at those draugr that rushed them. Naked and freezing in the dawn air, Hoari snatched up his axe without a second thought and rushed after Demka to join the fray.

END OF THE THIRD AND FINAL PART