The Rokkoh Adventures

Rokkoh and the Old Woman, Chapter 4

True to the stablewoman's word, as we round the hill, a cluster of buildings comes into view. The galloping horses slow as we draw near and pass under a great wooden sign declaring the area as Fiona's rest. Small houses line the street, giving way to a strip of commerce. Though most have closed their doors for the night, a tavern remains lively. Opposite it, also still lit up and open for business is a place designated as Fiona's Rest Inn.

Hitching our horses outside, the three of us enter the warmth of the inn. A bar, manned by a suave and well-dressed young man, sits to the left amongst a vacant collection of comfortable seats. To the left is a fireplace, crackling with vibrance and vigor. Ahead waits the innkeeper, a twin to the bartender. A cat, a chubby tabby, watches us as it rests upon a small pillow on the counter. Behind them is an archway leading to, presumably, the rooms.

"Good evening, travelers," the innkeeper greets us with a grin. A thin mustache stretches across his upper lip, brushed neatly like his dark hair. Both look black amongst the pale skin, but a hint of brown in the light gives away the true hue. His brother wears no facial hair, and remains focused on cleaning tankards and mugs.

"Hello," Max and I say to him in tandem. Nana offers a quiet grumble from within the heavy coat. I lower the hood for her to keep her from overheating in the thick furry thing.

"Three of you?" the innkeeper asks, to which we agree. He fingers through a set of thick but small papers, concern on his furrowed brow. "Looks like the best vacancy available is only a two bedroom. Would that be okay, sirs?"

Max and I exchange a look of concern of our own. Either Nana would have to sleep on the floor (or a chaise if the room had one, at best) or one of us would have to share. We could buck up and bunk together, let Nana have a bed to herself. Or one of us could take the floor. The question is which of us will get the sweet solitary, and who will have to concede?

"Not to offend," Max says to the innkeeper, "but is there perhaps another inn in town that we could try?"

"There are some bunkhouses," he explains with a little shrug, "but they only have single bedrooms. The Inn is the only place in town able to accommodate higher capacities. You are more than welcome to seek those out, there are a couple further down the road out of town. Their rates though, for three separate rooms, would be costlier than just one here."

"How much for your room?" I ask, despite Max's hesitance.

"For the two-bedroom, twenty gold," he answers. "Most of the others around here charge upwards of fifteen for a single-bed."

"Fifteen? Better come with a buffet and a lady," Max chuckles.

"Some do, if that's of any interest," the innkeeper admits.

"We'll take your room," I decide. "Pay the man, Max."

Max gives me a pleading look, begging to at least go see the room with the woman. But I will not yield. The more coin we save, the more will be in our till once Nana is back home. He should know this, he is no fool. Max, though, has had a problem with emptying his coin purse too quickly during previous jobs. After a stern discussion, Kym and I had thought the issue had been resolved. Or, at the very least, under control. Perhaps with only me accompanying him, he figures we can let loose before we have the final half of the reward.

Begrudgingly, he digs into the pouch and sets twenty gold coins on the counter. The cat, staying in its spot, sniffs at them. It relaxes back, seemingly approving the payment. The innkeeper hands a small ring to him, two keys attached to it.

"Thank you very much, sir," the innkeeper says with a courteous smile. "You'll be in Room Seven on your left, just through the doorway here. Enjoy your stay."

Max grumbles something under his breath, likely something regarding how certain amenities would enhance the experience. He heads through the doorway, making a quick exit. With a careful touch, I take hold of Nana's hand. She does not seem to oppose the gesture.

"Ready to get some sleep, Nana?" I ask her.

Those milky, blind eyes behind empty spectacles find me. She wears a blank expression, but nods her head slow. Her fingers hold a little tighter on my hand as we follow Max's path. The door sits ajar. Our cohort has already claimed a bed for himself, jacket and boots resting at the end and his back turned to the room. It is a small room, only enough space for the two beds lined against either wall and a dresser between them. A plate holds several lit candles there to illuminate the room. I help Nana out of the coat and onto the bed, setting the spectacles on the dresser top. The floor, I decide, shall be my bed for the night. Extinguishing the tiny flames with a gust of breath, I set into my place. Though uncomfortable, I've had worse. The jail cell comes to mind. Nana's coat becomes my pillow, a warmth retained therein.

A hand like a skeleton's hangs over the edge of Nana's bed. Its fingers curl, beckoning. I sit up, worried that something is the matter. That same blank face watches me as she waves her arms toward herself.

"What's wrong, Nana?" my confusion comes through the dark.

"Sleep," her scratchy voice responds, hushed. "Sleep."

"I'm okay, Nana," I tell her, soft enough to not disturb Max. "But thank you."

Her hand grips my forearm, a cold clasp. Though she has little muscle, she pulls. She tugs for a few seconds before I relent with a sigh and crawl up. She scoots back toward the wall, a faint smile on her face as I lay on my back. She stretches an arm across my chest and cuddles her frail frame against my bulkier one.

"Elbert," she whispers, content. I have neither the heart nor the curiosity to question it.