The relayhouse’s keeper tried to deny Medka entry at first, insisting the establishment only welcomed citizens. It took some effort to get him to look at Propraetor Vitilius’s letter. Instantly, the man’s attitude changed, and he couldn’t be deferential enough as he offered Medka the best his relayhouse had to offer, while also sending a slave to look after his horses. He even offered to trade those for fresh ones, which Medka politely refused. First, because he’d been warned relayhouse horses were to be used by men under princely orders and he could get in great trouble for breaking that rule. Second, because those were his horses, which he’d help raise from birth. They were sturdy animals he knew and trusted, his only companions on his journey to Camundis, now that the generals were gone. The keeper accepted his answer without trouble, and left to give orders to his staff. Medka knew by then that it would take some time for a bed to be prepared, so he went to sit at one of the tables in the main room of the relayhouse. He didn’t have problems finding a chair near the chimney, where a weak fire did little to dry his drenched clothes. There were no other guests at the relayhouse, which came at no surprise considering the storm outside. It had looked cloudy that morning when Medka had left the previous relayhouse on that road, but he hadn’t expected it would take such a turn. Back home he would never have been caught by surprise that way. The weather was so different here, and none of the wisdom he’d managed to glean in spite of his step-mother was any use. He would have to learn.
hmm k I'm doing that. Gonna try to share bits of that novel here and there, for shits and giggles.