Prince of Dragons

Chapter 35 - The Servant's name

A/N: Yes, I know, it's been a long time since I've updated. Frankly, I had some difficulty with this chapter, since I needed to find a way to bridge where my characters were last chapter and where they have to end up. Then I came up with this chapter; I hope you'll enjoy it.

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In the afternoon, as the earl's army was marching through the hills of Dracherwold, it began to snow once more. At first, the flakes fell only lightly, but the wind gradually increased in strength and the snowfall grew heavier. The white haze of snow limited their sight as they struggled to keep a steady pace in the wind.

Enorwin noticed that his mare did not like the weather. Neither did he, for that matter. He was shielding his eyes with his left hand, while clutching the reins in his right. Despite his many layers of clothing, he shivered in the piercing cold.

He saw his father let his horse fall into step next to Nickandon Wilnasson, who was riding behind him, and speak a few words to the swordsman. Wilnasson nodded.

"We're halting!" he roared.

The command was immediately repeated by other people, so that the entire line of soldiers received the message. Slowly, the army came to a halt. Soldiers immediately began to seek shelter under the trees, several of them grabbing a piece of canvas, which they attached to a tree to cover them.

Enorwin's father took his son's arm and dragged him along with him. They met with Nickandon Wilnasson, who, like some of the soldiers, was building a makeshift shelter by tying a piece of canvas to a tree. He ignored the earl until he was finished, after which he turned around and bowed slightly. "My lord."

Enorwin knew that Wilnasson had never been very concerned with etiquette and preferred to do things in a way he deemed practical; therefore, he would never leave a job unfinished to bow down to his lord. Somehow, earl Raynnard had come to tolerate that behaviour.

"Nickandon," Enorwin's father said, "I wish to speak to you."

"About the weather?" Wilnasson asked. His eyes briefly shifted to Enorwin and for a moment, his expression was filled with disdain.

Why do you hate me so much? Enorwin thought.

"Among other things," the earl responded. "We discussed our strategy for travelling through the mountains yesterday. However, judging from the way the weather looks at this moment, I fear we may actually have underestimated the snowfall."

Wilnasson nodded. "Perhaps."

The earl looked at Enorwin. "You have been in these regions longer than we have," he asked. "How often do storms such as this one occur here?"

Enorwin gave an estimate. They discussed the implications of the weather on the campaign. Throughout the conversation, Wilnasson kept looking at Enorwin occasionally – and never in a positive way. The earl, however, looked at him in warning.

The subject changed to the strategy for attacking Darfith. Enorwin quickly found that his father and master Wilnasson had way more experience in that field than he did. He listened in silence, nodding here and there.

After a while, the snowfall began to calm down. Gradually, the soldiers began to break up. The strategy talks ended as well and the earl went back to his horse as Wilnasson began to break down the tent. Unlike his father, Enorwin stayed behind.

"What do you want, kid?" Wilnasson asked in annoyance.

"What in the world have I done to make you hate me so much?" Enorwin blurted out. "I've never hurt you! And yet you've been condescending to me ever since you started to train me!" He was genuinely angry: all his life he'd worked hard, hoping that Wilnasson would be satisfied one day, but his teacher never was and never had been. "I mean, what happened to you?"