Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Nightmare

A pain shot through Halfdans head, causing him to choke in pain, violently ripping the air out of his lungs and forcing him to gasp for air. He met the man's gaze in the mirror.

"No, no, are you?" Halfdan stuttered towards the man who stepped forward closer to the other side of the mirror. "Don't come any closer!" Looking at the man, he seemed to be a regular man in regular clothes that any civilian would wear, although he looked different but strangely familiar. The main tried to speak but could only moan in what seemed like everlasting pain as Halfdan watched a pool of red begin to show on the man's chest. He could only watch as the man barely lifted his arm to point at Halfdan whilst falling onto one knee. Once again, he tried to speak, but blood spurted across Halfdans face making him jolt back and scream, causing a painful, searing pain to fire across his head. It all went black.

Once he opened his eyes, he lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. Putting his hands to his face, he felt for the blood but nothing, apart from a sticky layer of sweat christening in the evening sun shining through the windows. Putting a hand on his chest, his heart was beating incredibly fast. He heard a knock at his door,
"Sir Halfdan Mortensen, I heard you scream. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am fine, thank you, I'm not sure what happened; I think I must have had a dream..." Halfdan replied, "You are welcome to come in if you want." His door opens, and a woman enters the room dressed in the castle's servant outfit; she instantly bowed and apologised lack being able to help.

"Good evening, young Halfdan Mortensen, I am sorry to disturb you, but I thought I would check if you were alright!" she quickly blurted out.

"You don't have to be so formal with me; I am not like my Mother or Father. I don't recognise you; are you new?" questioned Halfdan, still recovering from the nightmare.

"Yes, I am new here. I just arrived today; my name is Sigrid, the first daughter of the Aridottir household from the local mining town, Gorm." Sigrid explained to Halfdan with a hint of sadness in her tone of voice.

"Why did someone of such as yourself from the noble Aridottir household end up being a servant?" queried Halfdan, now fully recovered from his nightmare, and reached towards a dirty towel on his bedside table to wipe his face clean, but before he could even begin moving, Sigrid had pulled out a clean cloth and asked,

"I have a clean cloth right here; use this instead. I'll take that dirty one over there," Sigrid suggested whilst hinting at the dirty towel. She hesitated but decided to get closer to Halfdan and begin to clean his face gently.

"I'm sorry, do I have permission?" she asked to which she was met with Halfdad nodding his head and closing his eyes. She began padding the cloth over his face wiping up the sweat.

"I apologise for asking, but did you have a dream?" she questioned.

"I don't know; I saw a man in my mirror over there; I don't know why but he felt somewhat familiar. Then I just woke up on the bed like this."

"That's horrific. Would you like me to move the mirror from your room?" she offered.

"No, that won't be necessary but thank you for the offering."

"Don't listen to your mother."

"E- excuse me?" Halfdan spluttered, puzzled by her probing question.

"I heard what she said to you; it's not true. I have only known you for a minute, but I am a good judge of character, one day, you will be a great leader."

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Star struck, Halfdan mulled over the information he was dissecting in his head.
"Thank you, Sigrid, that means a lot." he blurted out, surprising himself and trying to swerve the conversation away from himself, "So why did you want to become a servant here at Ardiham Castle?"

"Ah, well, I'm not here of my own will. I'm here because my father couldn't pay his taxes to your father's tax collector; he paid by offering me to come to this castle too well." he opened his eyes to see hers awkwardly darting around the room, almost looking for an escape, "to look well after and serve your father, Gudbrand Mortensen when he returns from those raids..."

"I'm sorry." he apologised as she finished cleaning off his face. "I'll talk to my mother or the servant master; I am sure there is something I can do." She stepped back from him and headed towards the door.

"Thank you, but that won't work; this is life has taken me, and even if you did, my father would not accept me back in the Aridottir house," she explained, desperately continuing to back up towards his door. "But thank you, sir."

"Call me Halfdan, no sir. Thank you for comforting me; it has helped." Halfdan chirped as she reached the doorframe.
She let a smile escape her as she crossed the door threshold,

"Sleep well, Halfdan; I hope we meet again." The door closed, and Halfdan collapsed back into his bed, falling back into a deep sleep, exhausted by the day.

 

"Halfdan, wake up!! You overslept; training starts in 5 minutes!" shouted Halfdan's training instructor, Gunnar, through the door. Halfdan jumps out of bed and scrambles to collect his armour and axe from the wall.

"Yes Gunnar, I am coming! I am just getting ready!" he desperately explained to a man on the other side of his door who was capable of ripping the door up off its hinges and throwing it at Halfdan. Just moments later, he rushed outside, scurrying down the stone slab stairs and scampering towards the training arena just past the city limit walls.

Arriving at the arena, he was instantly belittled by his trainees for his poorly maintained weaponry and inability to run at any speed worthy with his weaponry on his back.

"Alright, you useless lot; get into line now!" Gunnar shouted as he marched back and forth, insulting each one as he passed. Halfdan watched as he insulted the men significantly younger than him, Olaf, Osborn, and Torbjorn. Gunnar reached the much taller but far weaker man of the 4, Halfdan.

"Did you think you will get off easy just because you are the son of our leader, Gudbrand Mortensen? You are no more than a spec of dirt on the pavement," Gunnar spat, "On the floor now, give me 20 pushups."

Dropping to the ground, Halfdan began to attempt 20 pushups as Gunnar started to lecture the group.

"Olaf, do you know what's happening next month?" Gunnar barked.

"Winter, sir, meaning the raiding party will arrive home with all the goods they have taken from those Wintervale monsters," Olaf responded confidently.

"Well done, Olaf, that is correct! Apart from the fact, you missed one key detail," Gunnar yapped as he pointed down to Halfdan. "This mess is going to be going raiding with his father next spring."

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