William suspected that Tilly had been preparing to leave Axeby for quite some time - she had exited her house with a pack full of supplies in a shockingly short time, and wore polished, light leather armour over her clothes. He would have questioned the need for the armour, were he not a little envious of it; it put his tattered clothes and ineffective gambeson to shame.

  Her grandfather Peter had been none the wiser about her intent to leave; her farewell turned into more of a shouting match than a tearful goodbye, which appeared to frustrate her immensely. William dared not speak to her in fear of getting an earful: better to stay out of her business.

  They left that same day with plenty of daylight to spare, and soon enough the whitewashed buildings of Axeby were replaced with verdant hills and pastures. Their conversation had been light so far - both of them stewing on personal matters. William was silently preoccupied with the hopes of finding his friends, and Tilly seemed content to mumble angrily as they journeyed.

  Eventually, she seemed to grow bored with the silence, and ripped William from his thoughts and into conversation. "You packed light, didn't you?"

  William gave her a sidelong glance, and answered curtly. "I carry all that I have."

  "Well I hope you've brought some spare clothes, because those ones stink."

  He did not respond, which was answer enough.

  "Disgusting," she said, "at the next inn you're getting those washed, or else." It sounded as though the threat was less of a joke than William would have liked.

  "We're following the River Cass - I can simply wash them in there. Besides, I don't have the coin for an inn."

  Tilly stopped in her tracks. "You're joking? I'm not sleeping outside. What if rains? What if we're attacked?"

  He rolled his eyes, but kept walking. "You don't have to."

  She stood in shock for a few moments, before catching up to him in a half jog and keeping pace once more. She spoke again, sounding genuinely annoyed. "If this is a trick to get me to share a room with you, it's not going to work."

  "What?" William didn't like what she was insinuating, and he made it clear in his voice. "I've said no such thing - you're reading into things that aren't there."

  She raised her hands. "You've got a pattern, is all I'm saying."

  "You mean the church?"

  "Obviously, the church."

  He wiped a palm down his face in frustration. "I'm not going to keep repeating myself - I thought you were someone else! You look very similar. When we get to Casford, you'll see for yourself."

  His explanation seemed to placate her, but he was already mentally exhausted knowing that he'd likely have to repeat it once again in the near future: it fell on deaf ears every time, it seemed.

  The two walked on in awkward silence for quite a while, until Tilly broke it once more. "I can pay for your room," she said, somewhat reluctantly. "It's the least I can do, after what you did for Axeby... and for me."

  "Are- are you sure?" he said with surprise, taken aback at her display of generosity.

  She nodded quickly.

  "Thank you, Tilly. I appreciate it." He truly meant the words. "Are you sure you can afford it?"

  "Don't worry about it." She grinned, and patted her bag firmly: it jingled with each hit. "Saved a fair bit over the years - I'm set all the way to Halbury."

  William doubted that she really had enough for a journey of that size, but he did not press the matter. He'd find some way to make coin along their travels, and pay his own way as soon as he could, no matter what Tilly said - he would be no burden to her, or to anyone else.

  "You worked, then?" he asked.

  "In the alehouse, ever since I was a girl. Think it was just to keep me busy, and away from anything sharp."

  William laughed. "Considering your performance against the beast, I'm not sure that really did keep you away."

  "Maybe I'm just a natural with the sword," she said smugly. "No - my grandfather taught me, really."

  "Peter?" William exclaimed, unable to contain his shock. "There's no way!"

  She giggled at his reaction, "He was skilled, in his day. Even when he couldn't move so good anymore, he'd still give me pointers."

  He was lost for words: it was completely inconceivable for that fragile, grey old man to be anything else in his mind. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to wrap my head around that."

  She spoke again, a little quieter. "If he was ten years younger, The Terror wouldn't have stood a chance. I think he reckons everyone's as weak as him, now. Maybe that's why he didn't believe in me."

  "He can believe in you and still want to keep you safe," William offered.

  Tilly didn't respond, and he took it as a silent call to drop the subject.

  The rest of the day's walk was spent relatively quietly, as the two settled back into their own thoughts - though it was a much more comfortable silence than before. They had continued to follow the main road that ran close to the River Cass, and came across no other travellers. Tilly noted that word would not yet have reached the surrounding area about the demise of The Terror of Axeby; it was certain that they were the first to leave.

  In comparison to East Elwood, Casfordshire seemed quite sparsely populated from what William had seen in his travels, however limited they may have been. He was, perhaps, too accustomed to densely packed forests and having neighbouring villages only a day's walk away. It dawned on him, at some point in the journey, just how far he was from home, and he began to miss his family in Wealdham. He hoped that they were safe.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  As the evening sun set and the air grew cold, they eventually arrived at a large stone building that was wreathed in beautiful ivy. It was built right up against the road, and had ample space for horses and the like to its side. There were no horses present, but light shone from its windows and smoke bellowed from its chimney. Tilly assured him that it was usually a lot busier.

  They entered through its doors and into its warm embrace. William was instantly comforted by its interior; it was everything that the alehouse in Axeby was trying to be: warm and inviting, cluttered but cosy, and with an unquantifiable atmosphere that William found simply charming. Unfortunately, like said alehouse, it was empty. The Terror of Axeby really must have hit their business hard.

  Nobody came to greet them upon their arrival, even as the door slammed shut behind them. William and Tilly shared looks of confusion, then approached a counter over in the corner of the room.

  Tilly shouted a long, loud, and questioning "hello", that echoed in the silence of the inn.

  There were distant sounds of scrambling from somewhere in the inn's depths, and not a moment later they received a response that travelled to them from the farthest point of a nearby corridor. "With you in a minute!"

  The two of them waited patiently, and William admired the establishment's decoration out of idle curiosity: hanging tapestries on the wall, of varying intricate patterns; shelves upon shelves of bottles, presumably filled with all manner of ale; assorted cookware, hanging by a hearth; and the hearth itself, mighty and imposing, carrying a fire that crackled delightfully.

  A door opened and closed, and a short, rotund man waddled quickly down the corridor from which they'd heard the shout. William and Tilly watched awkwardly as he made his way towards them. The whole distance was less than thirty feet, by William's estimation, but the man was sweating by the time he reached them; he was almost doubled over, panting like a thirsty dog.

  "Sorry, sorry! You caught me while I was- err, indisposed," the main said sheepishly, wiping the sweat from his brow with a nearby cloth. William really didn't want to know what he meant.

  "Not to worry," Tilly said politely, "nice to see you again, Thomas."

  The pudgy man looked confused and studied her carefully, as he quite obviously tried his best to remember if he'd ever even met Tilly before. William couldn't help but stare at the obvious sweat stains on the man's otherwise lavish clothes. "I'm afraid I don't recall us having met before," Thomas replied apologetically, "though it's certainly a pleasure to meet you both." He bowed slightly, and introduced himself, "Thomas Whitford, at your service - welcome to The Casket."

  Tilly didn't seem pleased at not being remembered, and was too preoccupied with sulking to continue the conversation.

  "Well met, Thomas. My name is William, and this is Matilda."

  "Tilly," she corrected grumpily.

  Thomas' gaze lingered on William, and the man's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he made no mention of William's mark. "So," the innkeeper said, rubbing sweaty hands together, "I suppose you'll be needing a room?"

  Tilly narrowed her eyes and snapped her head towards William, who answered, "Two rooms, please."

  "Excellent!" the innkeeper exclaimed, "I tell you what - I'll even throw in breakfast. Three pence each."

  "Three? You're having a laugh," Tilly scoffed.

  "It's a fair price," William said, and Tilly punched him in the arm.

  Tilly countered the man's offer coldly. "Two pence each, or we leave."

  Thomas hesitated for a moment, then clicked his tongue. "Two pence each." He extended a hand, and Tilly shook it. The innkeeper laughed, "No girl, the coin."

  "Oh." She fumbled for her coin purse and paid for their stay. "By the way," she added, "any chance you can wash clothes?"

  "Of course," Thomas replied, with a glint in his eye, "it's only a penny each."

  Their stay at The Casket had been wonderful; either the innkeeper had treated them to the best rooms available, or they were all spectacularly luxurious - at least to William's standards. He'd never slept in sheets so soft, and he could still feel their warmth as he sat eating an equally splendid breakfast: wheat bread and cheese, with a sizeable cup of ale. Not what he'd have picked, given the choice, but it was much better than he'd expected, and Tilly devoured it without a second thought.

  The two of them lounged by the inn's hearth, bellies full and bodies warm, ready for the next leg of their journey, as they waited for the last of William's clothes to dry. He'd felt a little embarrassed sitting there topless at first, but quickly got over it.

  "Are all the inns on the way to Casford this nice?" William asked.

  "Not so much, but they're better than the Axeby alehouse, if that's what you mean," Tilly laughed. She had been much less grumpy with him this morning; whether it was due to a good night's sleep, the fancy breakfast, or perhaps their talks the day prior, William didn't know, but he was glad of it regardless.

  "Well, I hope they're a little cheaper to reflect the drop in quality."

  Tilly gave him an incredulous look.

  "What?" he questioned, "Three pence for one night seems like a lot."

  "Two pence, if you didn't stink. Even then, three pence is fuck all for an inn on the main road to Casford - we're getting a heavy discount."

  "Discount? I thought the innkeeper didn't remember you?"

  "He didn't, but we're probably the first people he's had here in a while."

  As if summoned from the ether by the talk of money, Thomas appeared from behind them. William flinched as the man spoke. "I would have thought you two gone, by now! Not that I am complaining - I do enjoy having company."

  "We shall be leaving soon," William said, reaching for his shirt. It had dried through to a pleasant warmth, and smelled faintly of smoke. "Now, in fact."

  The two of them stood, readying themselves and their belongings as Thomas stood patiently at their side, smiling.

  "Thank you for your hospitality," William said, and shook the innkeeper's hand.

  "Yeah, appreciate it," Tilly agreed, and shook the man's hand in turn.

  Thomas's smile grew deeper still. "It was my pleasure!"

  They moved to pass him, and the man coughed expectantly. Tilly turned her head, to see the man shamelessly holding out an open hand. "You're joking. Charge us extra for the washing and then you want a tip?"

  The innkeeper simply held his greedy smile.

  "Fine, here's a tip," Tilly started, and William braced himself for whatever undue insults she was preparing to launch at the man. He moved to get between them, and stop things escalating, but stopped at her next words. "Get your staff back in, because The Terror's been put to sleep."

  Thomas eyed her suspiciously, and he dropped his hand back to his side. "I have received no news of this."

  "We're the ones spreading the word, straight from Axeby," she said nonchalantly, "you're the first to know."

  Thomas held his gaze, studying the girl in front of him for any signs of deception: he was remarkably good at sniffing out liars. After a few heartbeats, he seemed satisfied. "I will take you at your word, Blessed as you are."

  Tilly grinned, happy to get some real recognition for her Blessed status.

  The innkeeper considered something for a moment, looking deep in thought. "Perhaps you could do me a favour, if you are headed to Casford?" he asked.

  "What kind of favour?" William asked, before Tilly could blindly accept. Hang on, how does he know we're headed to Casford?

  "I would simply ask that you deliver a letter," he said, "if the road to Axeby is indeed clear, then it provides me with a perfect opportunity."

  The request seemed innocent enough, but William looked to Tilly for confirmation just to be sure. She shrugged, seemingly convinced it was simple enough too. "Of course," William accepted, "to whom should we deliver it?"

  "Ah; to the merchants' guild, if you don't mind. One moment, please."

  The man waddled away, and came back a few minutes later with an envelope secured by an elegant looking wax seal. "I thank you for this gift of knowledge," he said, before giving the two of them a courteous bow and disappearing into the inn. It didn't seem a particularly valuable gift, to either William or Tilly - but they did not have the cunning mind of a merchant.

  The two of them departed in high spirits, eager to continue their journey.