Epilogue - I

In the morning. a courier found Gilda, and handed her a note. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," he told her.

"What is it?" Clark asked.

"My mother just died, and left me the farm. Remember, the fat woman who was trying to starve me to death, and wouldn't have my broken nose healed?"

"I take it you don't consider this news to be all that bad."

"Well, it's not good news, either. The farm won't be worth much, and I'll have to travel back there to handle everything. I just hope she didn't leave me any debts to pay off."

"We could go back there together. I don't have any pressing business here that others can't do for me."

"And I won't have to share you with a housecarl in Cyrodiil," Gilda added, brightening up a lot. "Perhaps this is good news after all."


Clark's horse plodded steadily along the road from Helgen toward Cyrodiil. He gave the reins a jiggle, but the horse's gait didn't change. He only knew slow and steady. The carriage rumbled on at the same pace.

This time, Clark just didn't care. Gilda wasn't distracted by the scenery this time. For that matter, it wasn't exactly the same scrawny teenager with a broken nose that he'd brought to Skyrim. That was only a few years ago, but what a difference they'd made!