116 Lodging For The Night

---Aaron---

It took us two days to find a way out of the valley. We kept to the trees and the cliffs, always looking over our shoulders and praying that Lord Victor's soldiers hadn't found our trail. Charles and Christina were oddly quiet and docile; I had expected them to show fear or complain of aches like normal children, but they matched our paces and never whined. Charles stuck close to Katherine, perhaps because she seemed to be a motherly figure, but Christina often chose to walk alone. Her calmness disturbed me; there was a steeliness in her eyes and a mature aura that shouldn't be there for a child who was seven years old.

After Lord Victor sent a surprise raid on the Wymonds' cottage and killed both Matthew and Martha that night, I had not seen Christina cry. Unlike Charles, who sometimes cried for his grandparents at night, Christina didn't shed a single tear over her grandparents' deaths. Katherine told me quietly that she sometimes saw Christina rocking herself at night with her pendant in hand, but she didn't cry. It made me wonder—did she experience this situation before? If so, what terrible thing happened that could make a child remain stoic at a time of extreme distress and grief?

Both Katherine and I wondered, but we didn't press Christina for details. It must have been a very traumatic experience, and we didn't want her to experience more grief than she already did. But I worried for her and wanted to show support if she ever broke her shell, so I often dropped back to walk side by side with her in silence.

Since the maps were all in Katherine's and Rachel's bags—all lost when our camp was destroyed—we had to figure out directions by looking at the sun. No one knew where Ravenstone was, so our best chance was to head towards the Northern Mountains and ask for directions along the way.

Traveling by foot with two children in tow was slow and hard. We got lost several times, and spent our nights camping at the edge of forests. We didn't meet a single soul on our way. When we finally saw a village in the distance one afternoon, I was so happy I felt that I could sprint all the way there.

As we approached the village, I spotted a young shepherd boy who was watching over his flock of sheep in a nearby pasture. "What village is this?" I asked him.

"Our village is called Summerlake, sir," the boy replied. "If you're wondering where the lake is, it dried up a long time ago according to my grandma."

"Is there a place for us to stay for the night?" Katherine asked. The shepherd boy tilted his head and thought for a bit.

"We don't have an inn or anything, but you can go in and ask around. Maybe someone will let you spend the night at their house."

We thanked the boy and continued to the village. It was a medium-sized community, with perhaps fifty houses, along with a general store, a couple of restaurants, and acres of farmland surrounding it. Men were tending to the crops in the surrounding fields, while women and children were washing and hanging up laundry, cleaning their houses, or cooking. Some of the elderly citizens were lounging on their front porches as we arrived, and they watched us as a lazy cat would eye a mouse scurrying by.

There was a platform in the village square, perhaps for performances or celebrations. Charles and Christina sat down to rest while Katherine and I assessed the situation.

"There doesn't seem to be an inn," Katherine said, "so I guess we'll have to ask someone for their hospitality. But who would let four strangers spend the night in their house?"

"I don't know," I admitted, looking around. Several people walking by had already cast curious glances towards us. Their gazes always fell to Christina and Charles, and then to the swords Katherine and I were carrying. "I've never asked someone to stay at their house before. I don't know how to ask."

"Do we have money? If we offer them payment, they'll be more likely to accept us," Katherine suggested.

I opened my bag and looked inside. "We have a pouch of gold coins. One or two should be sufficient as 'rent'."

"If we really have to, we can split up. I can take Charles, and you can take Christina. It might be easier to find lodging with two people instead of four." Katherine stated. "Although, I don't like the idea of us splitting up."

"Are you looking for somebody?" An unfamiliar voice asked. I looked up to see a pretty young woman not much older than us watching us with concern. She had to be the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, with cherry red lips and a full S-figure that was only accentuated by the red body-fitting dress she wore. I hastily averted my eyes from the lace decorating the front of her low square collar and bosom. The afternoon sun glinted off her chestnut hair, making her fair skin look even more flawless.

Her almond-shaped eyes were locked onto me. "You aren't from around here."

"Actually, we're looking for a place to spend the night," Katherine explained. "We were just passing by."

"Summerlake doesn't have an inn, I'm afraid," the young woman said, her brows creasing. Her clear brown eyes studied me, and her gaze reminded me of ripples across a pond. There was something that flashed in her eyes which I did not understand.

Katherine cast a glance at Christina and Charles, who leaned against each other, tired from all the walking. "We really don't want to bother anyone, but the children are so worn out from travel. We won't make it to the next village before nightfall. Do you know anyone who might have a spare room or two? We have money; we can pay them."

The young woman looked at the children, and her expression softened. "Poor children. It's okay, you can spend the night at my house. I have enough space to accommodate some guests."