Pick Your Poison

Chapter 6

Might came soon after Fychon had left the palace. Even when he'd encouraged Blodyn to gallop as fast as she possibly could at her old age, they hadn't gotten anywhere within the hours before the moon rose on the first day.

Now, the moon had already risen a second time, and after riding under a blazing sun in unpopulated areas of Coedwig for twenty-four hours, it was comforting to see a village in the distance lit up by the moonlight.

Fychon tugged at the rains, steering the mare towards the village.

"We'll get some rest first; we'll continue searching in the morning," he told Blodyn. They'd been on the road for such a long time that Fychon was struggling to keep his eyes open. And they were near the plant's habitat.

They could start looking for it right now, but it was night and Fychon's vision was blurred from being exhausted from their long travel. That was why Fychon decided it would be best if he'd look for an inn to sleep at and start searching first thing in the morning; he'd be more alert by morning anyway.

Blodyn seemed to agree, also longing for a nap; she was so tired that she limped as she walked through the villages uneven streets.

She sighed of relief when Fychon finally made her stop at the first inn they came across and got off her back.

Fychon stood weakly on his legs, feeling as if he was going to collapse any moment now; he hadn't eaten in a day, and he hadn't had proper sleep in even longer, so every part of him ached for a long nap. Except it wouldn't be that long, and getting his nap proofed itself to be harder than he'd expected.

The inn-keeper didn't seem too pleased with Fychon's after-midnight visit, even though their sign clearly said they accepted visitors all twenty-four hours.

"Well, pets aren't allowed," the inn-keeper tried, gesturing at Blodyn who was still standing outside, when Fychon reminded him of the statement on his sign.

"She's a horse; she sleeps outside, obviously," Fychon muttered, already getting annoyed with the inn-keeper. "I just want a room for one, is it that hard?"

The man leaned closer, his green eyes inspecting every part of Fychon; from his unevenly cut hair and slim, scrawny built, all the way down to his aching feet caused by the shoes that were ripping at the seams. "You're poor."

Fychon's eye twitched in frustration. "So what?"

"You can't pay." The man sat back in his chair, looking pleased with himself.

Patience fading quickly, Fychon slapped all the gold given to him by the royal family onto the wooden counter. Never in his life had Fychon depended on royals, and he didn't like that he had to do it now, but it was his only choice if he wanted to sleep tonight.

"That enough?" he snapped, gesturing at the golden nuggets.

The inn-keeper's eyes grew bigger as he saw the shiny gold.

So, maybe having royalty on his side did bring Fychon some good things; the look on the man's face, when he realized that the poor herbalist he thought Fychon was carrying so much gold, was priceless after all.

"So, a room for one."

Fychon smirked when the man reluctantly handed him the key.

"Don't get the bed filthy!" The inn-keeper made it clear that, even after earning so much gold because of Fychon, he still had the guts to shout offensive comments. Yet, Fychon couldn't care less; he had a bed to sleep in tonight.

And never in his life had it felt this good to flop down on top of the blankets, still wearing all his clothes, because he didn't give a shit about getting the bed greasy and grass-stained. It felt so good, so soft, and so comfortable.

He fell asleep right away.