Free Death and Honor: Book 1 of 2 by James Wisher Page A

join us later?”
    “Right, oh. I’ll check on the bed situation and be over in a bit.”
    Jeremiah nodded and turned his horse toward the inn. He had no trouble spotting it as it was the biggest building in town. They dismounted in front of the two story structure. Smoke issued form two of the three chimneys. Jeremiah’s back creaked when he bent down to tie his horse to the hitching post. Jeremiah groaned softly when he straightened up. He was getting too old to ride all day.
    He led his men inside. A fat, bald man in a greasy apron approached. “Something to drink, my lord?”
    “Ale all around,” Jeremiah said. “Food as well.”
    “I’m afraid all we have is mutton stew.”
    “That’ll be fine.” Jeremiah sighed as he settled into a chair at the head of the largest table in the place. Only two other tables were occupied, one by a trio of older women chatting and cackling like mad and the other a pair young men deep in their cups, heads drooping, eyes half closed.
    The innkeeper and a pair of servers approached with the food and drink. When everyone had a bowl and frothing mug the innkeeper asked, “Will you be paying, my lord?”
    Jeremiah smiled. As a knight he would be well within his rights to claim the meal in the king’s name and not pay a copper. He dug into his pouch and dropped six gold royals into the innkeeper’s hand. That was at least twice what the meal was worth, but he hoped the coin would buy some goodwill as well as the meal.
    The innkeeper bobbed a little bow and smiled wide enough to display a set of yellow teeth. “Enjoy your meal, sir.”
    They had barely finished their meal when the militia commander stepped through the door. He spotted them and walked over to their table. “I have good news and bad news. The good news is I have bunks for eight of your men, the bad news is we’re three bunks short.”
    “Excuse me,” the innkeeper approached their table. “I couldn’t help overhearing. I have two free rooms if two of your men don’t mind doubling up.”
    “That would be perfect, thank you,” Jeremiah said. “Let’s get some sleep. We start canvassing at first light.”
    Jeremiah closed the door to his room and yawned. Everything hurt after three days of riding and sleeping on the ground. He unbuckled his breastplate, thrilled that he hadn’t bothered with the whole suit of armor. The straw mattress felt unaccountably good when Jeremiah settled down to sleep. Maybe Alexandra was right and he should let the younger officers have more responsibility.
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    L ight streamed through his window when Jeremiah woke. He climbed out of bed and moved around, stretching, trying to work the aches out. When he had his armor in place he turned to the door. On the floor sat a folded strip of parchment, someone must have slipped it under his door in the night. He picked it up and unfolded it. The note said: if you wish to know why they attacked the caravan come to the forest north of town after dark tonight. There was no signature.
    It had to be from the woman. She must have been afraid to come into the village, judging by the guards’ attitude he didn’t blame her. If it was from her Jeremiah wouldn’t find anything in his search today. Perhaps a rest day would do the men good. He shook his head; he’d go through the motions. He’d announced the search last night and someone might notice if he canceled without explanation and he wanted to keep his meeting quiet.
    Jeremiah crumpled up the note and stuck it in his pocket. Downstairs his men sat at the same table as last night. It was good they arrived early but he was embarrassed to be the last to arrive.
    “All right,” Jeremiah said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll divide into two man teams and spread out. You all know who we’re looking for also don’t forget to ask about the caravan and anything strange they may have noticed. We’ll meet back here at noon.”
    They left the inn, Jeremiah having gotten a biscuit