Rain poured down as he walked through the muddy path before him, his tattered cloak, black as a crow’s wing barely protecting him at all from the punishing weather. The man cursed his poor luck under his teeth as he kept moving, the dim lights of an inn still distant in the darkness of a moonless, wet night.

He had been walking this drenched, miserable road for days and it never seemed to get any easier to walk through, his clothes were heavy and every mile he traveled seemed to stretch twice its length. The tall trees that rose to the sides of the road swayed with the wind, and the insects chirped in what seemed like mocking laughter to the traveler’s ears.

After what seemed like an eternity he found himself before the inn, and it was just what he had expected, one of those old stone inns one couldn’t find anymore in the cities. The walls were of grey stone that framed sets of wooden windows and the red roof tiles, moss had started to get a hold in some places, and it gave the structure a rustic beauty that only travelers and beggars could appreciate.

When he pushed the door inwards the warmth of a burning hearth enveloped him, and the smell of recently cooked food made his nostrils flare in honest protest, for he hadn’t eaten anything other than old bread and dry jerkin for a week’s time.

He was stunned but for a second before drawing back his cowl and closing the heavy wooden door behind him, he slowly walked towards the counter, where a man in his forties, presumably the owner, motioned him to come closer.

“Would the fair traveler want to rent a room for the night? Tis’ a foul night this day, I wouldn’t want to spend the night outside, all wet and freezing” -Said the old man with a grin that lacked some teeth.

“How much would it be for a room and two meals, one now and one as the sun rises, would a bath even be possible?” -Said the traveler, rainwater dripping all over the floor from his drenched clothes, his rare deep green eyes drawing the attention of the innkeeper.

“Are you perhaps from the east? It is not every day that one sees such eyes on this parts of the world eh?” -The innkeeper inquired keeping his face plastered in his usual easy grin. “The stay and two meals would be one crown and three stones” -He muttered immediately after his question, the businessman in him shining through his curiosity,

The cloaked traveler simply slid the crown and the stones on the counter, and as the innkeeper was about to take the money he took out another crown and directly pushed it against the man’s outstretched hand. “I don’t like questions, innkeeper”.

“Of course, sir” -The man smiled this time as he stared at the flash of silver now resting on his palm. “I am nothing but a simple innkeeper, who am I to bother to my esteemed clients” -He then took out from behind the counter a simple iron key with the number “11” etched into the metal.

Just as the innkeeper was about to give him the key to his room a lady that had been serving the clients their hot meals for the night came behind the counter and pinched the man in the cheek as he jolted in surprise.

“What have I told you about asking too many questions to our clients, Jakie?” -The lady told the innkeeper in an exasperated voice born of repeating the same too many times. She then turned to the traveler with a full smile and made a quick gesture in apology.

“Forgive him, sometimes his tongue is faster than his brain, have your key and enjoy the stay for the night, I will only be serving hot stew for half an hour more, but you can come and ask for some of it later on if you want to take some time drying yourself off”.

“Thanks” -Said the traveler, as he brought his clenched fist to his heart in a small bow. “If you excuse me, I will go now”.

He was exhausted to the point where he may as well just take off his clothes and simply sleep through the night, he thought as he walked up the stairs on his way to the rooms where the clients slept. Then the innkeeper’s wife spoke at him in a loud voice, cutting through the idle chatter and the sounds of cutlery of the room.

“We do not allow clients to be carrying around weapons in our inn, store it in your room or get rid of it, but I won’t serve dinner to an armed man” -She said as her eyes stared at the silvery tip of his scabbard poke out of his cloak at ankle length.

He just nodded and kept walking as if her words were nothing more than a distant cry he couldn’t bring himself to listen to. And well, he honestly was too damn tired to give a fiddler’s string about her words.

He sighed and finally reached his room, rapidly unpacking his belongings and drying them off just about as well as a man can when he is dead tired and hungry, and wet, and thirsty. Soon he had changed to the only clothes that had kept themselves dry inside his backpack. It was a deep green cloak that a merchant had told him years ago that matched his eyes over traveling brown trousers and a red tunic that had lost some of its colors with time and use.

Then he took his most prized possession in his hands and unsheathed his sword halfway through, the blade reflecting the warm light of the candles that illuminated the room. It was a thing of beauty, its curved length was rich in engravings detailing his greatest deeds, his blood, and his vows. He had been gifted his sword by a very special person a long time ago, back when he was younger, braver and kinder.

His sword was his life, and it was usually concealed under his cloak, but he had made a mistake in his tiredness from the journey and now he would have to hide it better if he wanted a hot dinner before a night’s sleep. He took a look at his reflection in the windows and ensured the sword was properly hidden before leaving his room for the common room on the first floor.

“May I get my first meal, “Jakie”?” -Said the traveler to the innkeeper as he grinned and the man still rubbed his cheek where his wife had pinched him when he saw the traveler.

“Sure, my wife will take it to you in no time” -The innkeeper rolled his eyes and motioned him to find a sit in one of the many tables around the room.

He found himself a comfortable place in the back of the room, he had always liked to not draw too much attention and wasn’t in the mood for banter with the various clients, composed of the usual merchants and traveling minstrels. A musician tuning his lute caught his attention, the woman was in her twenties and had a long mane of blond hair that matched her dark eyes and fair skin, she was carefully removing a string from her instrument as she hummed an unfamiliar melody.

The arrival of the innkeeper’s wife snapped him out of his thoughts as his plate of hot stew all but materialized in front of him, the woman simply left without any conversation as she handed beverages and various dishes to other clients in what was most probably her usual routine.

The stew was glorious, well, it doesn’t take a lot to make a man that has only eaten road food for over a week happy, but the traveler started frantically spooning stew in his mouth with a hunger born from exhaustion.

And then the door of the inn opened and a pair of armored shapes entered the room, mail armor shining under the surcoats and heavy cloaks wearing the black and red of the Blind King. And the traveler saw that William and her wife pointed at him as the soldiers started unsheathing their weapons and walked towards his table, one soldier standing in the way of the door while the other stood right next to him.

The traveler kept his eyes low, staring at his stew as he sighed, some days were just awful, no matter how much a man tried. Or so the man muttered to himself as he knew what was about to happen.

“Oi, rise your face so we can take a look” -Shouted the first soldier as he went to grab him by his long, black hair.

“I was enjoying this stew, you know?” -The traveler simply whispered just loud enough to be heard by the soldier, as he rose his own eyes to meet the soldier.

“It is William the Betrayer”-Shouted the soldier, his eyes opening wildly as he swung his sword, panicking as he had seen one of the other ones.

The soldier was too slow, William moved fast as quicksilver easily dodging his swing as he smashed his stew plate into the face of the soldier, now bloodied and with a few teeth missing as he fell unconscious to the ground.

The second soldier however wouldn’t be caught by surprise and readily took on a low stance, slowly pacing out of William’s range as the clients fled as fast as their legs could take them. William unsheathed his sword and the soldier went pale as he recognized the blade that had conquered lands spanning almost a whole continent in the hands of William’s ancestors.

William took on a high stance as he paced closer to the soldier with the swiftness of a snow tiger, the curved blade reflecting the orange fire burning in the room’s hearth as it fell, too fast for the red-clad soldier to react to even as it was brought down upon his neck, instantly killing him in a decapitating strike, slashing mail armor as easily as flesh.

William looked around as the innkeeper's wife screamed in horror at the decapitated body of the soldier and her husband was pale as a god, staring at William straight in the eye. The traveler ran upstairs and grabbed his backpack before sliding three more crowns on the counter.

“Sorry for the inconvenience” -William whispered to the innkeeper before leaving for the forest, the rain enveloping him once again as mud splashed under his boots. His eyes were sad under his cowl, the eyes of a man fated to die.

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Thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do writing, I am new to this world so be sure to leave feedback so I can improve and post writing of a higher quality.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

The Fish