Departure: 7

There was a hammer and an anvil, and there was his head caught between them. He heard horses and coaches rumbling like thunder outside his window, and then someone threw open his door in the adjacent room and crushing steps hammered across the floor. The sliding doors crashed open and Harbend peered in.

"Rise, my tired partner. Rise. We have a long day ahead," the voice thundered.

Arthur groaned and staggered to his bathroom. Then he came to think of the small med kit he had brought.

"Give me a few moments," he called weakly. He chose a harsh treatment and pressed the injector to his throat. Almost immediately he started to sweat and his temperature rose. He vomited several times before he felt sure his stomach had calmed down. After a short bath he had his hangover under control. It seemed his earlier boast of being able to cope with poisons had been a bit exaggerated, but then again, the amount of alcohol he'd drunk last evening had indeed been impressive.

Arthur sat down at his breakfast table, and he knew from sidelong glances that Harbend was checking his surprise. Still, the treatment had cost Arthur a lot of energy and he needed the food. Indiscriminately he gulped down everything on the table.

"On our way then?" Arthur asked when he was finished.

"I could have sworn I would have needed to carry you out from here," Harbend said no longer trying to conceal that he was impressed.

"I told you we have some magic of our own," Arthur teased.

Harbend grunted. "Well, there is one thing left before we go. I have seen you carrying that rapier you bought, and it just shall not do. Bring it by all means, but carry this instead to begin with." He showed Arthur the package from the weaponry they passed the day before.

"What is it?"

"Open it and see for yourself."

Arthur did so. He grabbed the handle of a short, lightweight club with a metal head. A mace.

"Why?"

"Hopefully you shall never have to use it, but if you do, this is easier to handle. Waving that rapier of yours without proper training shall only get yourself killed," Harbend explained mercilessly.

Arthur realized the assessment of his skills as a swordsman was correct and kept his silence. He hadn't known what to buy when Harbend's acquisitions had been reported to him, and while trying to wear the weapon he'd soon found out he risked tripping himself. The mace he could hang by his side without fearing it would interfere with his walking.

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

Harbend nodded.

"I have your gear on a wagon outside. Your rooms are paid for and I have given Ramdar what he needs to secure our absence."

"How much?"

"One hundred and seventy gold marks. It should more than cover any expenses he could possibly encounter on our behalf."

Arthur agreed silently and they departed. A wagon waited as promised. As it was covered with cloth Arthur changed his clothes inside while Harbend drove to the eastern gates. Closed in as he was Arthur didn't see anything when they drove through the streets. The ride was less bumpy than he feared, but he had the excellent streets of Verd to thank for that rather than the wagon.

Arthur sat down on a chest and pulled on a pair of leather boots. He couldn't see much of himself in the muted light. Thick, linen trousers, the sleeves of an uncolored silk shirt sticking out from his jacket, some intricate patterns woven into the wool.

He found a leather coat in the chest, but it was still too warm to be used and he let it lie there.

Arthur missed the cotton from Earth, but it didn't seem to be available here. His clothes itched in a way he wasn't used to. He had his own underwear, but they wouldn't last very long without the treatment only available at home. He picked up the soft hat and hung its string around his neck. When he finally could leave the wagon he wanted something to protect him from the sun.

The wagon came to a halt. He knew they were passing the walled in part of the gates where the Inquisition checked travelers for magic. He heard Harbend exchange some bored words with them and they left the city walls behind them.

Loud voices greeted them and Arthur could hear the creaking of wagons getting into motion. Horses shuffled along on both sides of him, the noise of clinking metal telling him the riders were armed. He would get to know them better later, but for now it would have to wait. He'd agreed to Harbend's request that he wait for half a day before he mounted a horse of his own. They didn't want to chance an unlucky encounter before they were well away from the city. Harbend would have to take his farewell of his uncle with Arthur still hiding in the wagon.

Arthur sighed and decided to catch up on some of the sleep he should have gotten last night. Making a bed from his cloak and some spare clothes took but moments, and he soon fell asleep, gently rocked by the moving wagon.