Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Beneath the sweltering summer sun, Lansius found himself in the midst of an unexpected encounter on his way to Feodosia. He had come across a blond stranger who appeared to have been kidnapped, and now she stood her ground, boldly facing the approaching cart that might have been involved in her abduction.

“Do you need help?” Lansius asked as the cart slowed down.

“Nah, I’ll take care of it,” she said confidently and stood firmly.

Lansius watched by her side as the coachman parked his cart. The man immediately rushed to her, and yelled, “Why did you jump like that?”

Lansius cleared his throat, catching the coachman’s attention. He noticed how Lansius looked like a guardsman and had his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“Why are you lying to me? You’re not heading to Feodosia, but away from it,” the lady stated.

“Miss, you’re mistaken. I’m merely taking a slight detour to fetch my goods,” he argued.

“Detour so far in an opposite direction? How absurd. I’m done with your words,” she said firmly.

“But you agreed to pay,” the coachman said, fuming.

“I said I’m done. I’d rather walk,” she replied as she turned around and walked away.

“But, miss, it’s a long way,” the man protested, about to follow her.

Lansius stepped forward and blocked his path. “She has spoken. Please leave.”

The coachman’s face turned sinister. “Don’t interfere. You’ll regret this.”

The tone triggered Lansius, who drew his sword in an instant. He pointed the sharpened steel at the coachman. “Remove yourself,” he said in a low, cold voice that he didn’t know he had.

The coachman took a step back. He muttered curses under his breath, but turned and walked away.

The lady peeked from behind Lansius. “Did you get agitated easily before?”

“I-I don’t know . . . It’s actually my first time pulling a sword at someone,” he whispered and sheathed the sword again.

She grinned mischievously. “I really need to take a better look at your head.”

“Please don’t, I beg you,” he said meekly. His hair was obviously dirty from all the dust and sweat.

The lady giggled. Afterward, the two of them quietly watched the cart until it went out of view.

“Any chance you’re a minor noble?” she asked as they resumed their walk.

“Eh, no, if I were a noble, I wouldn’t travel on foot.”

“Ah, true . . . Too bad neither of us are noble,” she said cheerfully.

Lansius felt something was off about her: She was too casual with a man she had just met. He also noticed that she looked upper class from her attire, not like someone from the villages. Even her straw hat was painted white.

Not a noble, so a bastard? And why is she so friendly? She saw the hair too . . .

Lansius felt uneasy about her friendliness. “Umm, are you sure you want to walk beside me?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” she replied, holding her straw hat as the wind blew past them.

“I mean, I’m a vagrant. If you need someone to watch over you, I can follow you from behind.”

She giggled. “The heat has gotten to you. Come on, let’s not stay under the midday sun any longer.” She wandered off the road, and Lansius had no choice but to follow her.

The two of them walked through the grassy area and into a nearby cluster of trees, finding a small grove with several old, withering trees. She sat under the largest one, which unfortunately had only half its branches full of leaves. The sparse shade they provided left Lansius with no good place to sit away from the sun.

“Come sit beside me,” she said, tapping the grassy ground beside her.

Normally, he would shy away from the offer, but the midday sun was relentless, so he gladly accepted. They sat side by side, resting their backs against the old tree.

Without any hesitation, she unlatched her shoulder bag and pulled out a wrapped item. Unwrapping the linen, she revealed a slice of meat pie. She broke it in half and offered a portion to Lansius.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

She insisted, so he reluctantly took the pie and gave it a bite.

Mamma mia, this is fantastic!

Lansius hid his reaction to avoid being ridiculed. He then took out the bread he’d bought that morning, broke it in half, and offered it to her.

Hearing praise like that, Lansius couldn’t help but smile.

The innkeeper smiled warmly as he received the silver and produced eight copper as change. “Supper is included.”

A teenage boy led them to their rooms. Lansius’s small room was furnished with a bed, a window, and a small desk. Compared to Lansius’s usual spartan arrangements, it was luxurious.

It’s also clean . . .

Lansius felt the urge to clean himself. As expected, he found a water basin on the table and a bucket in the corner. He washed his face first, then his hands. Next, he changed his clothes so as not to look out of place in the establishment.

His doublet wasn’t too dirty, but the tunic underneath was yellowing from sweat. Thus, he pulled his only spare tunic from his hemp sack and put it on.

The clean linen felt good on his skin. The tunic had stitches in several places from when he had ventured deep into the woods. He almost reminisced but pushed the thought away.

Now clean and proper, he sat on the bed and found it comfortable. He leaned back and found bliss. He knew he should wash his clothes. There should be a well near the inn, but after two weeks of rough sleeping, the bed was irresistible.

Maybe I could take a short nap.

Felis eventually knocked on the door after half an hour, and they went downstairs for an early supper. Lansius didn’t dare to leave his belongings in the room, so he brought everything.

They chose a corner table with an open window. Nobody offered them a menu. It wasn’t necessary. The inn would serve their guests a plate of whatever they cooked that day. Anything more, like ale or wine, would cost extra.

“This inn is famous for its roast meat,” Felis said.

Lansius’s nose agreed. The aroma was rich and savory. “The meat pie we had this afternoon was also good.”

“You liked it? I got the pie from here too. Two slices for a copper.”

“Reasonable price. It’s delicious.” Even as thrifty as he was, he had to admit it was a good deal.

A servant boy brought two cups, a pitcher of water, and a smaller pitcher of ale.

Felis filled their cups with ale. “Let’s toast to a good meeting.”

“Cheers.” The two raised their cups and drank. The ale tasted fruity and malty, with a hint of bitterness.

Oof, this is stronger than what I usually get.

“Ah, need to dilute this, otherwise I’ll be tipsy in no time.” She giggled.

The cool breeze, the inn’s well-maintained wooden furniture, and Felicity, who looked like a goddess, made this supper an exceptionally pleasant experience for Lansius.

Outside, the sun had lost its luster, but sundown was still a good one or two hours away.

More people were coming to the inn, and the dining hall was halfway filled. From the look, Lansius guessed the customers were tradespeople, local yeomen, and maybe even a member or two of the lower nobility.

Three more people entered the premise. Two looked like guardsmen, in bright brigandine, while the third was much older, in a fancy, colorful doublet. Lansius thought nothing of them. For travelers, guardsmen equaled safety and protection against bandits.

However, the man in fancy clothing saw Lansius and stood in silence as if struck by something.

It was odd enough that Lansius caught the act out of the corner of his eye. Lansius glanced at him, but dared not to see his face for too long. He didn’t recognize the clean shaven and neatly combed man.

Probably just gawking at Felis.

He calmly asked Felis about the man, but she shook her head.

The man stormed toward Lansius. “It’s you!”

“Y-yes?” Surprised, Lansius replied warily. He never caused a problem in Midlandia, so he quickly assumed this was some trickery or scheme.

“Oi, what’s the fuss?” One of the young guards, who was built like a bear, approached.

“Anci, this is the guy. We found him,” the man said to the guard, who looked at Lansius with ferocious eyes.

Lansius could see the smirk and sadistic eyes radiating from the big fella toward him.

Oh, shit, what did I do wrong?

His brain went into high gear and recalled an entrapment like this. The group he had been with taught him that the best way out was to challenge them to reveal his name. If they couldn’t name him correctly, then he could rally the other guests to intervene.

Before Lansius could open his mouth, Felis said innocently, “Is there a problem with my friend Lansius?”

Lansius was sweating bullets. Felis, unknowingly, had thrown him under the cart.