A kiss or two for Sithis

2.

The party trudged their way around to the south side of the city, where a large bridge and a small stables marked the city's entrance. As they passed the stables and started to walk down the bridge, the snow underfoot started to become thinner, and in some places, sparse. Hemisk felt the tension of the men behind him, as they noticed guards watching them carefully. As they approached the large door at the end of the bridge, a guard stepped between Hemisk and the door.
"Halt."
His cold voice rang out. His muscular arms were folded, and Hemisk eyed the large, double handed sword on his back. Hemisk and the others stopped. "What is your business in Windhelm?" He asked. Hemisk swallowed. He and his men couldn't be turned away now. Not after everything they had been through. He chose his words carefully and slowly.
"We wish to stay in the tavern. To rest. Then go to Riften."
"Why?"
"Because we're tired."
"Where did you set out from?"
"Solitude."
"Why not go south from Solitude to Markarth and then east? Why risk going east through the snow?"
"A contract took us east. To Winterhold."
At this the guard stopped for a moment. His eyes shifted from Hemisk to his men, then back to Hemisk. He swallowed, and finally said:
"A contract? What kind of contract?"
Hemisk thought he could detect a faint waver in his voice. A sound of metal clinking from his right, told him there was a guard to the right of him, but he didn't turn to look.
"We're mercenaries." Hemisk finally said. "You know... sell swords." The guard relaxed slightly."Will you let us into the city?"
There was a pause. The guard was trying to read Hemisk, who looked blankly back at him. A ships bell sounded faintly through the wind, the sound coming from the docks. Hemisk glanced slightly to the right, and saw 2 guards leaning against a wall. Their swords were sheathed, but their hands were resting on the steel hilts. Hemisk looked back at the guard. "Sure."The guard finally said."But cause any trouble and I'll haul you into the dungeon myself, you hear me?"
Hemisk smiled grimly and nodded. "Course."
The 2 guards walked forwards and heaved open the heavy wooden gates, which were clad with iron. Hemisk and his men shuffled through, clutching their clothes around them, as the guards opening the gates strained and groaned against their weight. Hemisk glanced behind him as he walked, and saw the guards pulling the heavy gate doors all the way open. It was Amar who voiced Hemisk' thoughts. "Funny they're opening that gate all the way for us."He said quietly."Don't think they are."Hemisk replied. His beliefs held true, as a few moments later there was a great clattering of iron and hooves, as 3 smart horses came galloping down the bridge, and into the city. The mercenaries moved to the side to let them pass, and Hemisk caught a glimpse of the riders. Stormcloak soldiers. The horses were muscular, and the soldiers had been riding them hard, as their great sides were matted with sweat, steam was rising off of their backs and their nostrils were flaring madly. They slowed to a canter, then a brisk trot as they went out of Hemisks' sight.
"Did you see that soldier leading them?" Amar breathed.
"Got a great bear on his shoulders." Someone from the back said.
"That bear ent too big... musta only been a cub when it was killed."
Someone else said.
"Never get a adult on yer shoulders like tha'. You'd 'ave all on liftin' it up."
There were various murmurs of agreement from Hemisks' men. Hemisk let out a sigh. "We aren't going to get any warmer just standing here. Come on, let's go to... what's it called... Candlehearth Hall."
He strode off, and his men followed him. Climbing the small steps to the entrance, the men brushed past a beggar. Hemisk heard Bjor give her a coin, and then the beggar croak out her thanks.

The door to Candlehearth Hall opened with less effort than Hemisk thought, and it knocked gently against the wall when he opened it. The party entered the room in their various fashions, some stumbling, some striding, some just simply walking. The tavern owner eyed them all. Amar strode forwards. "Mead." He said flatly. The woman lowered a bottle into his hand, and took his coin. Amar promptly sat down and busied himself in his drink. Hemisk approached the owner. "We need rooms for the night. Could you supply them?" She replied condescendingly. "Sure... this is a tavern isn't it? You'll have rooms, all 9 of you."
"10." Bjor cut in.
"9." Hemisk reminded him softly.
That left a sour taste in the air for a moment, but that was alleviated when Amar spoke up. "Bloody good mead. That Blackbriar stuff isn't it?"
"Aye." The tavern owner replied. "Stuffs getting expensive, but it brings the customers in if I can sell it cheap and in large amounts."
"S'good." Amar nodded gently. "But expensive."
There was a pause again.
"You said rooms...?" Bjor prompted.
"Oh yeah." The owner said. "Down the hall. Not the first 2 ones, but the ones after that are free. There'll be enough, even if none of you are... in the same room." The men eyed each other warily. A definite "no" to that one.
Amar traded some septims for another bottle.
Bjor shuffled off along with the others to their rooms.
Amar hiccuped.
Hemisk leaned against a wall and closed his eyes, listening to the bard strum their lute from upstairs.
Amar burped. Then hiccuped. Then he stood up from his stool and stumbled out, still clutching his bottle. "Gotta piss." He said with effort as he wobbled out the door. "It's out the back!" The owner called. Amar waved his bottle in thanks. Hemisk walked slowly over to the owner and sat down in Amars' stool. "Just some ale." Hemisk said quietly. He was handed a bottle in a moment. Hemisk yawned. "You get many rumors around here?"
The owner shuffled around under the bar for a moment. "Here." She said, putting some paper on the top. "Bounty for some bandits." Hemisk unfolded it and read it quickly. He looked up and saw the owners expression had shifted from mild contempt to slight fear. "What is it?" Hemisk asked. The woman swallowed. "Some... kid... trying to summon the Dark Brotherhood. Aventus... something, can't remember his family name. Lost his mother, Naalia when he was around 10. The brat had no one to look after him so was sent to Riften. Honorhall Orphanage. Word is he escaped and came back to his home. He hated the headmistress there so he's trying to get her slaughtered."
"Right..." Hemisk said, exhaling deeply and then took 3 large gulps of his ale. He stood up and wandered upstairs to explore the tavern. "Make sure you don't do anything with Susanna!" The woman called up the stairs. "Mhm." Said Hemisk quietly. Upstairs was a candle (must be where the name Candlehearth Hall comes from), the bard Susanna, and various patrons. Hemisk had just sat down when he heard Amar staggering back in, the door banging loudly against the wall. "S'cuse me." Hemisk heard Amar say stupidly. He heard Amar begin to stagger up the stairs and belch loudly, then the tavern owner made a noise of disgust. "Sorry..." Amar mumbled as he reached the top of the stairs. Hemisk eyed Amar lazily, as he collapsed into a chair and promptly fell asleep, his bottle resting on his lap. After a few minutes Hemisk himself went downstairs and went to bed.