the entire occupation. Have you never heard of such a creature? But that's not the only reason.” He reached into his saddlebag, retrieved a flask and a small cloth and began cleaning his hands and knife. “I have the creature’s head because it was the only way I could kill it. My blow through its heart served only to enrage the beast. As I pulled my blade loose, it charged in with a ferocity I have never encountered. Again and again it charged. I was only barely able to avoid its blows. I slashed away at every part of it and watched in horror as it had no effect. It wasn't long before I knew I had to either kill it or flee, so I waited for it to charge one last time and brought my blade across its neck. To my great relief my stroke fell true and the creature died.”
“What should we do now?” asked Millet. “If there are more of these things we don't stand a chance.”
Malstisos dried his hands and wiped his knife with oil. “If there are more, then we are in mortal danger.” He checked his pack and sheathed his knife. “I cannot protect everyone at once. Still, I don't see that we have any other choice but to continue with our plan. If we are lucky, there are no more of those things about. If not, then I'll do my best to kill them before they are upon us. Now that I know how to kill it, one will pose me little danger and with only Maybell at my side, I should be able to keep her safe.”
“It's settled.” Millet mounted his horse. “The crossroads, then we will part ways. By then we should know if there are more of these... creatures.”
The party rode on through the rest of the day in silence. It was nearly sunset when they arrived at the hospice. It was little more than a small cabin with a small adjoining stable, but the smoke from the chimney and the aroma of roast pork filled their hearts with joy. Millet dismounted and motioned for the others to wait. “I'll see to our accommodations,” he said. “I won't be but a moment.”
The interior was as he expected. The single room was large enough to hold a dozen beds and a roughly made dining table. A fire crackled in the hearth and was the sole source of light, giving it a comfortable, albeit dim, atmosphere. A thin young man sat at the table carving a piece of roast pork. His blond hair and fine features indicated that he had not seen many winters. He looked up as Millet opened the door and frowned.
“If you're here to rob me, I have nothing to take but some roast pork and a half bottle of wine.”
Millet stopped and bowed low. “I am not here to rob you, young man. My companions and I seek a bed for the night.” He scanned the room for signs of other people but saw none. “Are you master here?”
“I am,” the boy replied. “At least until my uncle returns.” The boy stood, wiping his hands on his trousers. “I'm Gerald. And you are welcome here, though I have little to offer.” He walked to the hearth and stirred the fire. “How many are you?”
“Four,” Millet replied. “And we only ask for a bed and perhaps a bite to eat.” He fished three coppers from his pocket and placed them on the table. “This should cover our expense.”
Gerald’s eyes widened and he retrieved the coins, clutching them tightly. “In that case, you are very welcome.”
Millet smiled warmly. “If you would allow me to stable my horses.”
“Of course,” stammered Gerald. “I'll do it for you, if you'd like.” He headed toward the door still holding the coins.
Millet grabbed the boy gently by the arm. “That won't be necessary. But if you could prepare a meal I would be grateful.”
“Yes, yes,” said Gerald. “It's already prepared. It will be waiting.”
Millet thanked the boy and returned to the party. After they unpacked and stabled the horses, they entered. Four plates and cups had been placed around the table. Malstisos was careful to hide his features beneath his hood.
Gerald whistled merrily as he placed blankets on the beds. The roast pork, though a bit plain, was well received, and soon they were laughing and talking as if they hadn't a care in the world.
“Hostels in this area are usually filled to bursting this