The Witter

The horses’ hooves beat a steady rhythm against the thick mud, occasionally punctuated by the splash of a shallow puddle. Evander remained huddled as close to her neck as possible, his heavy cloak was pulled close and his wide-brimmed hat kept the steady drizzle from running down his neck. The faint light from the bridle lantern barely illuminated the road immediately around them and he could only hope it would last until they reached civilization.

He hated this time of year for more reasons than he cared to count, though he did try once. Two pitchers of ale and three hours later he woke with a black eye and a few people who still glared at him any time they saw him. Apparently a burden shared by him was not a burden lessened, simply spread. All he could think about at that moment was the spot of light he glimpsed occasionally from between the bare branches of the trees that crowded around the road. Whether a house or an inn, he should be able to get shelter for the rest of the miserably cold and wet night.

The old mare’s gait faltered and she threw her head back, not stopping but attempting to turn in spite of Evander’s protests and tugs on the reins. “You spiteful old nag! Don’t you dare take us back into the thick of the storm!”

Her ears lay flat and she continued backing through the squelching muck the road had become. It was only with a round of cursing, a few threats and a slap on the rump that she leapt forward in a near panic and went from the easy canter of earlier to a frantic gallop. At least it was an attempt at a gallop, her footing was less than stable and the slipping did nothing to calm her.

Only his tight grip on the saddle horn kept him on her back and any attempts to calm or control her flight were futile. He had only seen her act like this twice before but there were no large predators in this area. He held on and continued trying to calm her down without any sign of success.

The light ahead was close enough that it was visible more often than it was hidden behind the trees and he was momentarily relieved, expecting her to head for the safety of other people. Before he could offer her reassurances that it would be alright, the light disappeared and was replaced by a bright flash as his head struck a low limb. This time his grip was not enough and he found himself lying dazed on his back with mud up to his ears.

It took a moment for his mind to clear enough to take in the situation. He sat up, groaning both from the pain and frustration. He began to whistle for the old mare, hoping the familiar summons would be enough to break her out of whatever this mood of hers was, but paused as he heard the clatter and snapping as she pushed through the trees off the road ahead. The sounds of her fright faded as she stumbled blindly away from the road to leave Evander dumbfounded. She may not be the brightest horse in the world but she had always been sensible and leaving the road made no sense at all...

My gear! He thought in dismay as he pulled himself up from the puddle quickly forming around him. She would calm down sooner or later and feel like a silly little colt as she came looking for him... but for now he had no chance of locating her in the dark. She had the only light with her and he saw no hint of it anywhere. He was cold, dirty, aching and without that lantern he would be lucky just to make it to that building ahead without breaking his leg.

He froze as a terrible sound echoed through the dark forest - the scream of a horse in pain. It lasted only a few seconds before it was cut short and silence fell. After a few stunned moments passed he forced himself to resume his march toward the light.

As often as he had threatened to sell her as a plow horse or leave her to the wolves when she misbehaved, she had been his only real companion for many years. The lost gear quickly became a minor annoyance as he realized that he may never again see the only living being he had been able to tolerate.

She must have fallen into one of the caverns that were scattered around this part of the country or maybe run over the edge of a drop-off. He couldn’t imagine what had spooked her that bad - there was nothing out here but mud and the rain. Even the usual wildlife had holed up to wait out the storm.

His back ached and his head throbbed, his heart hurt worse than either of them and the relief as he climbed the steps of the inn was dulled to near insignificance. The rain had washed away most of the heavy mud from his fall but he couldn’t bring himself to care about courtesy as he opened the door and trudged in leaving a trail of streams and puddles across the worn wooden floor.

At this time of night the room was almost empty. An old man was listlessly dropping another log on the low fire as he yawned. “You’re out late, stranger... need a room?”

“Yeah.” He dug in the pouch at his side and cringed - eighteen gold and forty silver with a handful of copper. Most of his money had been hidden away in a pouch on the saddle in case bandits attacked on the road.

“Twenty silver and if you want breakfast it’ll be another five.” He recited as he trudged behind the desk across from the door.

"Twenty silver!?" It was absurd! Even a good room in a nobles inn was only ten! He had been too concerned about the bandits on the road and forgot about this sort of robbery.

“Sorry, sir.” He said with a shrug. “The wife sets the prices. The rooms are nice and there’s no other inn for a full day’s ride.”

“Listen,” Evander carefully controlled his tone and the words. This was exactly why he hated people - a greedy woman and a spineless man taking advantage of travelers. “My horse spooked not far from here. Most of my money went with her when she threw me and took off into the woods. If I can’t find her tomorrow I have only what little is with me to survive on and it’s certainly not enough to buy a new horse. I can’t afford to throw what I’ve got on a room four times the price of any reasonable inn.”

“...Alright...” He said reluctantly with a nervous glance at a door behind the desk. “I can’t lower the price for the rooms but for five silver you can sleep by the fire...”

“Thanks.” He muttered, the words dripping with sarcasm, as he dug out the money. Evander peeled off his wet cloak and draped it over the back of a couple of chairs near the fire to dry. The hat he left on when he got settled but pulled it down to shield his face from the heat while remaining close enough for the rest of his clothes to dry while he slept.