The Dragonborn

Part 13

Jack continued to follow Mark down the road toward Whiterun hold, passing small farms and coming upon the Whiterun Stables.  Jack slowed his pace to a stop as a horse caught his eye.  Unlike the other larger war horses stabled there, this horse was tall rather than muscular.  It stared back at him with big brown eyes.  He almost felt like it was looking straight through him.  Mark strolled back to him and followed his gaze to the horse, before chuckling softly.  Jack turned daring eyes on Mark when he asked him.  "What's so funny"?  Mark gestured to the horse, answering tenderly.  "Leave it to you to pick the nag that he can't sell".  Jack raised a curious eyebrow and Mark continued on solemnly.  "That stallion is too scrawny. People value the big burly war horses here in Skyrim. They can plow the rough farmlands, handle the fierce cold, and boldly storm into the thick of battle. That nag there... well, he's pretty, but he won't last out here. No one wants to spend a thousand coins on a horse that won't survive out here".  Jack turned away from Mark to look back at the horse, saying sourly.  "They don't know that. He looks fine to me".  Jack lowered his eyes sadly with a sigh before continuing on up the road.  He felt for the horse... but he didn't have THAT much coin to get him.

Mark caught up to him, rubbing his arm in brief comfort.  Passed the Stables and just outside the gate was a small Khajiit caravan.  Three Khajiit sat around a large bonfire, sharing small talk and soft laughs.  Jack had seen Khajiit in Cyrodiil.  One of his teachers at the guild had been one.  Jack started to walk over toward them.  He was half hoping to trade something with them.  Perhaps a better sword?  Yet, before he got to far, Mark grabbed his arm a bit firmly.  Stepping in closer to whisper in his ear softly.  "Careful. The Khajiit here are not like the ones in Cyrodiil. They'll rob you blind".  Jack rolled his eyes, whispering back stubbornly.  "So can the ones back home. It's all about how you treat them, Mark".  Mark's eyes narrowed in silent warning, just as one of the Khajiit told them aloud in a calming voice.  "This one is not deaf. Does this one need something"?  Jack pulled away from Mark to approach the old Khajiit, asking politely.  "Yes. I was wondering if you have something for trade"?  A wide grin spread over his face, as the old Khajiit answered happily.  "Khajiit has many wares as long as this one has the coin".  Jack didn't have much, but he pulled a leather coin pouch from his pocket and gave it a jingle. 

The old Khajiit rose from his seat before the fire, gesturing him toward the large canvas tent as he asked Jack soothingly.  "This one looking for something"?  Jack grabbed the worn leather hilt to his chipped Iron sword, saying a little embarrassed.  "I was hoping for a replacement for this".  The old Khajiit's cat eyes tried to narrow in on it, but he weakly blinked and held out his hands.  Jack unsheathed his blade slowly and started to hand it over... when a younger male Khajiit rose to his feet, grabbing for his sword hilt.  Jack froze, listening to Mark grab his own sword hilt in response.  Uneasily Jack, muttered to Mark sternly.  "Mark, don't".  The old Khajiit raised a hand as a simple gesture to stop his own.  The young male Khajiit released his blade, but still remained standing.  Mark reluctantly released his own blade, but he remained tense.  The old Khajiit took hold of the iron blade, examining it closely as he said softly.  "An old sword. Shoddy work. This one can fit it... You wish for another"?  Jack was unsure how to phrase it, but told him respectfully.  "My blade was taken. I found this one. I just... It's not like the one I lost".  The old Khajiit nodded, softly answering almost to himself.  "This one understands. Sadly, we don't come across many swords in this time of war.... but this one has found one you might like". 

The old Khajiit set the iron sword down, then moved to a wooden chest.  A female Khajiit rose to her feet to defensively snap back.  "Ri'Saad, you're not going to trade away THAT blade! Not to this one"!  The old Khajiit removed a sword wrapped in a cloth from the chest, telling the female Khajiit.  "Enough. This one is better without it".  To Jack, he said casually.  "This one found thief on road with this. This one interest you"?  Jack reached out to slowly pull the cloth away and as the blade was revealed... Jack's heart raced.  Green Glory!  Jack turned a surprised look to Mark, who's eyes were just as surprised.  The female Khajiit snapped out bitterly.  "Ri'Saad! Don't trade it away to this one! It's worth more than this one has"!  The old Khajiit sighed heavily, telling Jack.  "This one sorry... but she's right. Does this one have enough coin? Five hundred coins, this one costs".  Jack didn't have to look to know he didn't have it.  Shaking his head, he thought about leaving, when Mark 's hand came into few.  Turning to face Mark, he watched Mark seriously tell the old Khajiit.  "This should cover it".  The old Khajiit handed Jack the blade, then took the money from Mark as he sat down to count it.  Jack hugged his blade close to himself and turned soft eyes on Mark.  This blade meant as much to Mark as it did to him.  When the old Khajiit finished counting the coins, he looked up to tell them both happily.  "May the road lead you to warm sands".

Mark nodded to the old Khajiit, then pulled him away casually toward the hold.  When they had passed into the gates and out of ear shot, Mark grumbled out sourly.  "They'll probably blow it all on Skooma".  Jack buckled his sword back around his waist, as he told Mark with a warm smile.  "Don't be so salty, Mark. They didn't know that this blade was worth more than a horse.  Khajiit don't really care about money. They only take what they need to buy simple supplies".  Mark rolled his eyes and Jack chuckled.  He knew Mark was only mad that they made his hard work seem cheap.  As they crossed the drawbridge, one of the two Whiterun  guards started to approach them.  Mark half-stepped to block Jack from view, as the guard told them seriously.  "Halt! The cities closed with the dragon about. Official business only".  Jack stepped out from behind Mark to answer respectfully.  "We have news from Helgen about the dragon attack".  The guard straightened up, moving out of their way as he answered.  "Fine, but we'll be keeping an eye on both of you".  Mark nodded shortly, and Jack shook his head with a small grin as he itched his upper lip.  Mark could be so overly protective at times... but it was sweet to see that he cared so much.  Approaching the large wooden doors, Jack pushed them open and entered into Whiterun Hold.  To Be Continued...