Prince of Dragons

Chapter 28 - Fire and steel

A/N: Really, I end up having to apologise for taking so long to update far too often. Sorry, people. I'll try to update quicker next time.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

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Never in Arwund's life had breakfast been such a bizarre experience.

Maréin had at first refused to eat, saying he did not want their hosts to go hungry because of him, but Nibelinde and Hageriech had insisted that they should eat.

"We'll have plenty of time and plenty of food to eat after today," Hageriech had said.

And so the three guests ate with the family at sunrise. They did not say much: they all knew what would happen today.

Sir Tarnhald would arrive later, accompanied by a group of henchmen. Probably tasked by the duke to take revenge on the people of Dracherwold. No-one knew what exactly the duke had asked his knight to do, but no matter the details, everyone knew it would once again be something violent and destructive.

Only this time, the village was not going to sit back and wait.

That fact seemed to be a piece of unspoken knowledge shared by all. Everyone knew that things could not go on like this for much longer. It had been enough.

And like seemingly everyone in the village, Nibelinde, Hageriech and Adalmaer knew it. Their expressions were a mixture of dread and anger, but also of hope and determination. Today, everything would change. Today, Dracherwold would take a stand.

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Time seemed to have slowed down. The seconds were slowly passing by, echoing through the duke's mind, taunting him, reminding him that his orders would irrevocably be fulfilled. The minutes went by, lasting longer than ever.

His body had involuntarily begun to tremble. How long? he wondered.

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Enorwin was standing besides several other courtiers in the courtyard as Sir Tarnhald and his men were preparing to ride out. It was a large group; at least ten men on horseback and some twenty soldiers on foot. He'd been informed by someone who spoke the Middle language that they were riding out to the town in the valley to look for Enorwin's companions. The prince had to admit he found this to be a bit strange. After all, the duke had told him they had until dinnertime to return of their own accord. However, who was he, the prince of the Flaming Lands, to question the duke of Dracherwold?

Still, he wondered why a mere search party would be so large.

Suddenly, the image from his nightmare appeared before his mind's eye: duke Hadufried's face appearing in Darfith's flames.

Maréin and Arwund had distrusted the duke. Could it be... could it be that his dream was telling him that they were right?

No. No, that was impossible.

Sir Tarnhald, fully clad in black armour, looked down at him from his horse. The visor of his helmet was open, and his eyes met Enorwin's; they blazed in a warning. Enorwin swallowed, but did not break eye contact; that could be considered a sign that he was hiding something.

Sir Tarnhald briefly narrowed his eyes, assessing the prince. Then, he moved his head to look at the castle gates in front of him and closed the visor. He squeezed the sides of his horse, urging the animal onward.

The group rode out of the gates, on their way to the town in the valley. A strange feeling overcame Enorwin; the feeling that somewhere, somehow, something was very wrong.