It was raining outside, as it had been for several days now. It was a good thing. Heavy rain meant less fighting, and Saxon could really use a break from the carnage. He sat inside the thick walls of the castle and spied as best he could into the grey gloom of the forest outside. At least he wasn't out there, like the enemy was, getting drowned in the neverending downpour. He knew all too well what it was like for them. Knew what it was like when everything was wet, when it felt like even your mind had started to soak, how the panic felt once you realized you couldn't escape it. Or the cold. The days were all right, but the nights... that's when the fever started to set in. And fever or not, you'd have to get up and fight in the morning. There was no alternative. The christening of these barbarians had gone all wrong. They just wouldn't accept the salvation of the Lord Jesus Christ. And so they fought. 
He admired them, in a way. They were a hard people. Others would have crumbled against the might of the teutonic order, but these people wouldn't quit. Rain or shine, snow or otherwise, they just wouldn't surrender. He was all dry and well up here now, and he had his doubts about the situation. But the enemy never complained. Not that he had noticed, anyway. 
Castle was the wrong word for the building he was in. It was a tower with a small wall, nothing more. It had been erected in the middle of nowhere to shield other, more important settlements from harm. And it had certainly done it's duty. He wasn't sure how many raids they had stopped, how many people they had killed. He sometimes wondered how many of those bastards there really were out there. They seemed innumerable at times. Like the trees in the forest.

He heard steps from below and turned to see who it was. One of the servants climbed the stairs towards him. Their eyes met, and Saxon realized the servant had come looking for him. "Excuse me, sir knight" she said, "One of the other knights sent me to fetch you. It was urgent." Saxon raised an eyebrow at this. "Who sent you?" he asked. "Sir Osrik. He's down by the battlements." Saxon nodded thoughtfully and looked outside once more. He spotted Osrik there, looking up at him. They were not on good terms, Osrik and him, but the man outranked him and so he had no choice but to abandon his dry, warm spot by the window for the cold rain outdoors. "Very well", he murmured, "I'll go see him. You can go about your duties." The servant courtsied and left. [i]I wonder what he wants now[/i] Saxon thought as he started descending the tower.