Prince of Dragons

Chapter 34 - To the mountains

"The mountains," Carlard muttered to himself. "We are almost there."

Joandrey and he stood on top of a snowy hill. The mountains were close now. Joandrey stared at the view in awe: the mountains rose high above the ground, the tops devoid of trees, the sides alternating between woods, gentle slopes and bare rock. It had started to snow once more. Tiny flakes drifted down and gently landed on the hood of her cloak.

"So this is where you're going to make your great move?" she asked.

Carlard continued to stare straight ahead. "Is that sarcasm I'm hearing?"

Joandrey smiled. "You think?"

He turned his head to look at her. "If I get my timing right, I'll succeed," he said. Then, gazing at the sky, he mused, "And Garowain will tremble."

"How poetic," Joandrey said laughingly. She began to walk downhill. As she noticed that Carlard wasn't following her, she halted and turned around, saying, "If you want Garowain to tremble, I suggest we get going: we've got a long way ahead of us."

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In the morning, a soldier approached Enorwin, carrying a sword and guiding a brown horse by the reins. "My lord," he said, bowing down.

Enorwin laid down his breakfast and stood up. He walked towards him. "What is it?" he asked.

"His Lordship ordered me to bring you a new horse and a new sword," the soldier explained. He held the weapon out horizontally. Enorwin took the sword into his hand and held it up. It was a knightly sword, about three feet in length, with a thin, straight crossguard and a disk-shaped pommel. The sword was one-handed, but the hilt was long enough for it to be used in both hands on occasion. The prince stepped aside and swung it around, testing it; its balance was good.

Around his waist, he was still wearing his belt, to which the sheath of his old sword was attached. He shoved the weapon into it; fortunately, it fit.

Suddenly, he heard laughter coming from his right – which wasn't where his friends were sitting. He looked up and saw Nickandon Wilnasson, his sword fighting teacher, shaking his head. "Look at you waving that sword around," he said scornfully, then walked on.

Enorwin clenched his fists. After his conflict with his father yesterday, the prince was not in a good mood and he felt an urge to vent out his anger on master Wilnasson; however, he reasoned he would come to regret it once he felt better and decided to ignore his teacher's mockery.

He walked towards the horse. Apparently, the earl hadn't realised that his son had got his hands on a new horse in the meantime, or maybe he had just wanted to be sure. Enorwin would have to figure out what best to do with the horse he'd travelled to the campsite with; he decided to think about it later.

The new horse was a mare like his old horse, Lanhilla. He couldn't deny that he missed her. He wondered whether she was still alive; maybe the Servants of Darfith had killed her. The thought sent a wave of sadness through his body and he briefly closed his eyes, pulling himself together.

"What's her name?" he asked, stroking the animal.

"Jessia, my lord," the soldier responded.

The third High Knight of the Middle Order, Enorwin thought to himself, recalling what he'd read in a book once. Dame Jessia had succeeded Sir Rociane of Salbridge as High Knight at some point during the Draconic Wars, when Rociane had been appointed commander-in-chief of the Garowainian army. It was said that she had once single-handedly slain five young dragons on the battlefield.