The Amazon is sick, Achilles thought, listening to her hack. She was sitting by herself off in a corner, eating her supper and trying to be discreet about her coughing, but Achilles could tell that she was either already ill or becoming ill. That tough, annoying woman was mortal and becoming ill. For a brief moment, he thought to gloat about it. She wasn’t so tough, after all.
Then, he didn’t feel much like gloating.
He didn’t dare look at her for fear she would see him and think that, somehow, he was concerned for her. Why, the verythought was ludicrous. He was no more concerned for her than he was for a fly or a roasted bird. Both were inconsequential to him, unless, of course, he was hungry. The roast bird would come in very handy in that case.
Nay, he wasn’t concerned for her in the least. He was focused on his meal.
The pork pie he’d been devouring was quite delicious. In fact, he’d asked for another helping and one of the serving wenches was happy to bring it. She was also a little too solicitous, lingering at the table and making sure he had an ample view of her bosom. Achilles had eyed her as a potential conquest for the evening because she was pretty, but she smelled like compost and he couldn’t stomach that from a woman in his bed. He sent her away, unhappy.
More coughing from over his shoulder. It sounded wetter now, like she was growing congested. Having devoured two big helpings of the pork pie, and now starting in on fresh bread and butter, with fruit and honey slathered all over it, Achilles was acutely aware of the coughing. It irritated him.
It concerned him.
Nay, you idiot, it does not concern you!He told himself. Mouth full, he could see the innkeeper’s daughter moving around back in the steamy kitchen and, soon, she emerged with a big mug of something hot. He could see the steam rising from it. As the woman walked past him, he got her attention and crooked a finger at her. She came to him, smiling pleasantly.
“May I be of service, m’lord?” she asked.
Achilles swallowed the bite in his mouth. “Aye,” he said, turning his head in Susanna’s direction but still not looking at her. He refused. “Do you have something for a cough?”
Jude nodded, her fat jowls wriggling. “Easily,” she said, lifting the steaming mug. “I was just taking this up tae the lady.”
“What is it?”
Jude held it out to him so he could sniff it. “Pressed juice from apples with mint and rose hep and honey,” she said, watching him smell it. “’Tis quite good for a cough.”
It smelled very minty. Achilles threw his thumb over his shoulder, in Susanna’s general direction. “The lady over there needs it,” he said. “Take her some, also.”
Jude spied the lady dressed in warrior’s clothing over in the corner. “Aye, m’lord.”
As the woman hustled up the stairs with her hot drink in hand, the door to the inn lurched open, spilling forth rain and wind and two knights. Bric and Alexander finally entered the inn after having bedded down the entire escort in any warm places they could find throughout the village. Pulling off gloves and wet cloaks, they headed straight for the hearth to dry out.
Achilles watched them put cloaks on pegs and lay out their gloves. They also spoke to the wounded laying near the fire, speaking to each man and discussing his condition. Once they had finished speaking to the men, they made their way over to Achilles.
“Well?” Alexander said as he straddled the bench and sat down. “How is the food?”
Achilles was still stuffing his face with the warm bread and butter. “Delicious,” he said. “They serve good fare here. We shall have to remember that.”
Alexander looked around. “Good food or not, the place seems rather empty to me,” he said. “Does it not seem strange that in this weather, the common room is nearly devoid of travelers other than us and a few others?”
Achilles shook his head as the serving wench approached the table to take the food order from Bric and Alexander. “Nay,” he said to Alexander as Bric spoke to the wench about the menu. “The food is rich and it is expensive, as is the ale. It is all stuff of quality and we will pay handsomely for it. I suspect othertravelers have sought out less expensive accommodations this night.”
It seemed as good an explanation as any. When the food quickly came, Bric and Alexander dug in with gusto.
“Where is Kress?” Alexander asked, his mouth full.
Achilles didn’t answer right away. “You are not going to like the answer.”
Alexander looked at him, curious. “Why not?”
Achilles pointed up the stairs. “Because he is with Lady Cadelyn.”
Alexander swallowed the bite in his mouth, looking at Achilles with more of a suspicious expression. “In her chamber?”
“Aye.”
“How long has he been there?”
“For at least a half-hour. He took food up to her.”
