Prince of Dragons

Chapter 20 - Ghosts of the past

After having travelled the rest of the day, the group had finally set up camp.

They had managed to buy enough horses for everyone at the farms near Nehrfelt. Although Enorwin had discovered that the Servants of Darfith had robbed him while he had been unconscious, he had promised all the farmers a huge amount of money on his word of honour as a prince and a knight. Arwund had no idea how much money that prince's family possessed, but it was probably a ridiculous sum. Unless Enorwin wasn't actually going to pay them, of course; the farmers would never have dared to defy the orders of a prince anyway. Would Enorwin be prepared to deceive innocent people like that?

They had rushed through the land, travelling so fast that it was hard to even talk to one another. Not that many people had something to say.

And now, they all sat around the campfire, eating the food they had bought from the farmers. No-one seemed very willing to speak, and so the rogue thought through the day.

There was an image he kept seeing over and over again in his mind. At some point, not so far away from Nehrfelt, they had overtaken a cart. At first, they had not been able to determine its contents, but as they had approached it, they had discovered the gruesome truth: human corpses, covered in bright red sores, had been piled up on it. All victims of dragon's fever.

And no-one could do anything.

Where were the nobles? Why weren't they evacuating villages? Why weren't they addressing the people, telling them not to give up hope? Why weren't they providing the ill with food, which all those people undoubtedly needed if they were to survive?

He felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: anger at all this injustice. He was sincerely angry and he honestly pitied all those innocent victims.

He caught sight of Carlard. Was all this unfairness, all this cruelty perhaps the reason why he and Joandrey had joined the Servants of Darfith? Did they believe that Darfith would bring positive change to Garowain?

Suddenly, Enorwin looked up. "There's something I have to say," he said, his face stern.

What now? Arwund thought to himself, slightly annoyed.

"I am extremely displeased with your behaviour," the prince said. "It turns out that our dear friend Maréin," - he looked at the wanderer - "has allowed someone to join us who was originally tasked to hunt us down. Now this isn't the only thing that's happened in the past few days. The only person here who has ever respected my authority is Bedreigh. For the rest, Arwund mocks me at every chance he gets. Maréin seems to think he's the one in charge, when he is obviously not. And Vaciana even intended to kill us."

"And your point is...?" Arwund asked.

Enorwin looked at him, his eyes blazing in a warning. "My point is that my patience is running out. I have had enough of your mockery, your disrespect, your insubordination. So let me make this quite clear. From now on, everyone present here will do as I say. You will address me by my proper title, which would be 'Sir Enorwin' or 'my lord'. You will not reveal our intentions and our discoveries to anyone except with my express permission. If you do not follow these orders, there will be consequences when we come back. Keep that in mind."

Silence fell over the group. Arwund closed his eyes, breathing in and out deeply.

It was as if a fire flared up inside him. That prince spoke of disrespect. Disrespect! Arwund wondered who was actually disrespectful here.

He knew that what he was about to do was risky. He was aware of Enorwin's power. But someone had to do it.

Arwund Marholdson clenched his dragon pendant, as if to imbue him with the courage he needed. And then he said, clearly, "No."