The crown of wolves

Chapter Three

The morning sun filtered through the cracks in the cottage's roof, casting slanted beams of light onto the dusty floor. Eldredge stirred from his slumber, his nose twitching as the smell of cooking meat reached him. His eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright, panic etched across his face. He stumbled out of his room and froze at the sight before him.

Prince Aidan and Silthgrad sat around a makeshift fireplace, a plump chicken roasting on a spit. Aidan was carefully turning the bird, his expression one of focused anticipation, while Silthgrad watched the flames, her sword resting across her knees.

Eldredge's eyes widened in horror. "Oh no! You killed Lufey! Why did you kill Lufey?" He rushed forward, grabbing the charred remains of feathers and bones, weeping hysterically over the deceased fowl.

Aidan and Silthgrad exchanged bewildered glances. "We didn't know," Aidan stammered. "We thought we could just have meat for breakfast."

"Of course, and my poor Lufey looked exactly like breakfast!" Eldredge's voice rose to a pitch of despair. He turned to the pot of boiling porridge and sniffed the air, his face contorting with dread. "You didn't..."

As if on cue, the lap of a goat floated to the surface of the pot. Eldredge's scream was one of sheer horror.

The trio continued their journey, the mood dampened by the morning's mishaps. Eldredge lagged behind on a donkey named Nikhole, his posture slumped in exaggerated sorrow. The prince rode ahead, his brow furrowed with concern as he glanced back frequently.

Eldredge muttered under his breath, occasionally shooting dark looks at his companions. The donkey plodded along slowly, its gait uneven. The landscape began to change as they left the village behind, the air growing colder and the trees denser.

Aidan, trying to bridge the silence, called back, "We could get you a horse if you like."

Eldredge snorted. "Oh yeah? And what would you do with Nikhole? Use him for meat too?"

The donkey as if it had been listening neighed with some worry in it's voice. 

"Don't worry Nikhole, Don't listen to them," Eldredge patted his donkey. 

Aidan sighed. "We already apologized, didn't we?"

"Yeah, so you say," Eldredge replied, his tone still bitter. "She doesn't seem to think it's worth apologizing over." He nodded toward Silthgrad, who rode ahead, her back rigid and eyes focused forward.

Silthgrad ignored the comment, her expression unchanging as they moved through the rugged terrain. The tension between her and Eldredge was palpable, something the prince seemed increasingly aware of.

"Silthgrad doesn't talk much, but she is sorry. We didn't really know," Aidan explained, his voice earnest.

Eldredge huffed. "So you say."

As they traveled further, the village disappeared from view, replaced by the vast, untamed wilderness. Eldredge suddenly signaled them to stop, his hand raised.

"There's something important we need to get before we begin our journey. It's very important and critical to the success of our mission. We must make a detour," Eldredge declared, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Aidan, eager to proceed, nodded. "Of course, whatever it takes."

Their detour led them back to the village, specifically to the tavern. The prince and Silthgrad waited outside, their horses tied to a post, while Eldredge disappeared inside. Minutes turned into an hour, and Silthgrad's patience wore thin.