Twisted Tales

The Crossing of Paths, and the Parting of Ways

         We walked another two hours with no sign of Jack or Erik, or our camp, or any sign that they had passed this way at all. It seemed as though the Twelve Huntsmen and I had really come onto the path ahead of where I had first gone into the woods to take an ill-advised pee, but like Samuel had said, it was too late now to backtrack another two hours, probably more, in search of our campsite. It had to be nearing midnight now, and after about twelve hours of hard walking, I just didn't have the energy for that. So ahead we forged, and all I could do was hope that Jack and Erik would come to the inn sometime tomorrow in the hopes that I had found my own way there. I tried not to think too much about the possibility that they had gone into the woods after me, and were even now lost themselves, perhaps attacked themselves by spiders or wolves, or worse.

         Finally, after what seemed like an age, we saw a pale yellow glow breaking through the trees ahead.

         "The inn," Samuel said, sounding audibly relieved, and all thirteen of us put on a burst of speed to hurry down the remainder of the path towards the warm light.

         The yellow light was coming from a lamp that hung from an iron peg on the front of the building, which was a small, two story stone cottage. Samuel hurried on ahead of the rest of the group and pounded on the front door. A few long moments passed, until I started to get worried that no one might answer. But then the door swung open, and a bleary eyed man stood there, blinking groggily at all of us. He looked confused at first, then as his eyes scanned the veritable mob before him, increasingly alarmed. Then his expression settled into one of weary resignation.

         "You all are seeking hospitality?" he said.

         "We are," answered Samuel. "Can you accommodate us all?"

         "If some of you are willing to sleep in the barn I can," replied the man. He sighed, and jerked his head towards the dark interior of the inn. "Come on in. The stables for your horses are around the back."

         About half of Samuel's men led the horses towards the stables, while the rest of us crowded into the compact main room of the halfway house. The owner had to squeeze past us all to disappear into another room, from which he reappeared with bowls of food and mugs of ale. It took him a dozen trips to pass out food and drink to everyone, and when the other six huntsmen came back from stabling the horses, the little room became so crowded that we had to start passing bowls of lukewarm stew over our heads to the people in the back, because the owner could no longer squeeze his ample stomach between us all.

         "I'm afraid it's not warm," he said, "I rarely get visitors this late, so the kitchen fire has been out for hours now. The ale's good though, and the beds are comfortable enough. There are extra blankets I can get for those who will be sleeping in the barn, and the hay will make a decent enough bedding. I'll haven't really the supplies to feed this many mouths, but I'll scrounge something up for you all to break your fast come morning. That's the best I can provide though, I'm afraid."

         "That's more than we expected to find on this night," Samuel replied, and he passed the man a handful of silver and copper coins. "We're grateful for your hospitality."

         Lots were drawn to decide who would get one of the beds upstairs, and who would spend the night in the barn. I declined to participate, insisting that I wanted to stay down here in this main room, where I would know the minute the Erik and Jack showed up—if they did.

         "It'll be less comfortable sleeping down here on the hard floor than it would be even on a pile of fresh hay in the barn," the innkeeper warned me, but my mind was made up.

         He provided me with a couple of thick, itchy wool blankets, and soon everyone was parting ways, half of the huntsmen heading off back outside towards the barn, the rest filing upstairs to fall into warm but lumpy beds. Samuel lingered, offering me a comforting smile and a pat on the back.