Page 49 of The Vampire Curse
“You have two nights here with that trinket. If you want to stay longer, then you’ll have to find your own meals or bring coin,” he says.
“It’s worth more than at least double that,” I protest.
He narrows his eyes, taking me in. “Consider it payment for not reporting you.” Then he shuts the door with more force than necessary.
I take in the cramped quarters. Smaller than the room I shared with Alaric. The windowpanes are covered in a thick layer of dirt, obscuring the view outside.
Setting the tray on the bed, I set to work making a fire. Once the flames catch, I strip and lay my clothes out in front of the fire to dry. Even this simple act makes me think of Alaric.
Alaric.There is his name again.
It’s sometime in the late afternoon, but I am already exhausted. I plop on the bed, and a cloud of dust plumes up around me. It’s lumpy and creaks, sitting in its broken frame at a slight angle, but I’m too tired to care.
I look at the meal as I pull my dagger from my boot and start to slice off the unappetizing bits before consuming the bland stew. The bread and cheese I save to wrap up and place in my satchel.
Sorting through my contents, I still have some food I originally packed, but it’s not much.
I’d given the innkeeper my most expensive piece. The bracelet and earrings I have left are not enough to buy a horse.
Setting the empty tray outside the room, I lock the door and settle into bed, lying at an angle to keep my head above my feet.
I stare at the ceiling, drumming my fingers on the mattress. Icouldrelieve some townsfolk of their coin, but I’m afraid my face might be too recognizable.
It looks like it will be another early morning at the stables.
Despite my exhaustion, I toss and turn.
What had Alaric expected me to do when he sent me away and told me to never return? Even though he was responsible for arranging Kathrine’s marriage, he had to know I couldn’t stay with her.
The more I think about his actions, the more I don’t understand. The questions build upon themselves, multiplying.
Did he even care? I scoff into my pillow. Of course, he didn’t care.
At some point during the night, I manage to drift off to sleep, only to wake again and again. Every lump in the mattress feels like an elbow jutting into my spine, and every other muscle unfortunate enough to come into contact with it.
At some point the drizzle turned into a storm that rages, rattling the windows, and the rain leaves streaks in the dirt. It’s loud enough to drown out the howling of demons.
Near dawn, the storm settles to a soft patter.
I will not be sleeping anymore, not here, not tonight. I push up and groan. Every muscle in my body is stiff and aching.
I slip into my now dry clothes and sling my satchel over my shoulder then unlock the door, leaving the key on the bed.
The inn is near silent. The only sounds are the occasional snoring from behind closed doors.
I make my way down the stairs, all too aware of every creak they make beneath my otherwise silent steps.
Light guilds the edges of the trees as I step outside. The air is damp and cold, but not unpleasantly so. It takes some time to find the stable, but when I do, I am glad to find it quiet and void of other people.
I pause at each occupied stall, finally settling on a black and gray dappled horse, tall and muscular but lean. This one looks built for running.
It takes me longer to saddle this one than the mare I’d grown used to, but eventually, I manage it. This one has more energy and spirit in him. I expect to cover more ground today. I made it to Littlemire in less than two days by carriage. I see no reason why I won’t reach Windbury before nightfall.
I open the stall door then quickly mount, leading the horse out of the stable.
As soon as we emerge, I spot the innkeeper making his way out here. Confusion turns to anger, his face turning a bright shade of red. He lifts a fist, shaking it and shouting as he attempts to run toward me.
I dig my heels into the horse’s side. He leaps into a run, nearly unseating me with the sheer power of the movement.