Dangerous Territory

Witlof

Luckily, the rest of that day went without incident. Armin's map took them much farther north than they had anticipated, up steep hills of the Ardennes, avoiding the city of Saint-Hubert.

It was getting dark when the forests opened to farmland, and the sun had already set when Eren rode into a town. He looked at his map again. Armin had marked to stop there for the night. It was not a huge buffer between them and an approaching army, but with any luck, they were slightly ahead of the Americans.

Eren was now glad he was riding ahead, and he was dressed as an average traveler. No one paid much attention to him, other than a glance at seeing two men riding one horse. He rode through the village, hoping to find a tavern, inn, or anything useful. As he reached the end of the village without seeing anything promising, he came to a halt and frowned.

"No hotel," Levi muttered. "Not surprising. Even if a village like this ever had one, it probably closed up when the war began." He saw a man out on his porch smoking and watching the rain. "Monsieur, parlez-vous français?" Sir, do you speak French?

The man muttered, "Assez bien." Well enough.

Eren stayed quiet as they spoke. Finally, Levi whispered, "Turn back around. He told me of a house we can try, a man named Dimo Reeves. He's either the mayor or a really important businessman, it's hard to tell with that accent and using some strange slang. If not him, then the church should at least take us in out of the rain."

They rode back, and Levi told him which house to look for. They saw it, one of the larger houses in town, and it looked cozy as the night got darker. Levi dismounted and went up to the door. Golden light poured out, and Eren could smell something good cooking.

A balding, rotund man answered. To Eren's surprise, he sounded excited to have guests and waved them forward. A freckle-faced redhead young man came out to get the horse. Eren flinched as he slid off the saddle, and he hissed at the pain in his leg. He limped up to the porch, where he and Levi stomped and scraped off as much mud from their boots as they could.

Stepping inside, a jolly middle-aged woman, even wider than her husband, came up to them, speaking in something that almost sounded familiar to Eren.

Dimo warned her, "Spreek Frans, schat."

How close that was to German! Was this Dutch?

Dimo turned to the two of them and seemed to be apologizing for his wife. She gushed in excitement as she took Eren's leather coat, and awkwardly she took the rain-soaked blanket Levi had wrapped up in.

With halting words and a strong accent, she said, "Je vais les mettre près du feu." I'll put them near the fire.

Then Dimo led Levi and Eren upstairs. Eren limped up the steps, really starting to regret thinking he was lucky to have only been shot in the leg. They were shown to a room with two beds, which Levi assured was enough.

Eren walked in without a thanks and collapsed on the bed in exhaustion. Levi shook his head and apologized to Dimo. He was then led on a little tour around the house while Eren refused to move. The bed was soft, the air had a gentle fragrance, and hearing the jolly voices was somehow soothing.

He rolled back into a sitting position and looked down at his leg, worried that blood might have gotten on the nice quilted blanket. Luckily, although there was a tear in the gray trousers and a dark stain from blood, it had not rubbed off. He would have really felt bad if he had ruined some nice family's quilt.

Levi returned and saw Eren flinching as he rubbed out his thigh. "Are you okay?"

"My leg is throbbing," he grumbled.