Louis dreamed. He dreamed of dancing and cheering. He dreamed of golden flames in the darkness. He dreamt of fighting and fucking and wasn’t always sure how to tell the two apart. He awoke with a start, with the taste of mead still on his lips. But how could he recognise the taste, when he'd never had mead in his life?
The dawning sky hung above him. He looked around and saw he was lying on a pile of wool and furs. It took him a moment to remember. He was in Warwick’s cart. After the… excitement last night, Warwick had told him to sleep while they got the rocks cleared. It seemed he had slept the whole night through. There were bandages around his torso, to cover the wound on his back.
Even though he was wide awake, he didn’t move for a while. His body still ached, his back stung and the taste of blood hadn’t quite left his mouth. And there was something else still there. In his head. Restless, like the wolf had been, keen to be free. And Louis was tempted to let it out. But for now, he told it to stay. And, for now, it did.
After a while, he crawled up to the front of the cart and took a seat beside Warwick. ‘Morning,' he said.
‘Morning,’ Warwick returned.
There was a long silence.
‘You did the right thing,’ said Warwick. ‘I’m proud of you.’
‘Hmm…’
They didn’t speak for a good while after that.
Hours passed. The convoy trundled along steadily, following the river across the craggy landscape, until eventually Warwick said, ‘There it is. Stonewater.’
Ahead of them, the river fed into a great, still lake. In the centre, rising out of the water, was a massive walled city, carved of shining white stone. Little square houses and towers piled up towards a tall, white castle in the centre. It looked like everything was made of stone.
The convoy crossed a long, stone bridge that stretched from the edge of the lake right up to the stone gates of the city. As they passed under the huge portcullis, Louis was surprised to find the place was even bigger than it had looked from the lakeside. The marble streets were filled with more people than Louis had ever seen in his life, who parted to allow the convoy through. And they weren’t all people. Amongst the crowd was the odd elf and dwarf, even one sphinx. There were gypsies and beggars, town criers and doomsday preachers, nobles and peasants, all rubbing shoulders.
Eventually, the convoy turned into a small courtyard, which belonged to an inn. Warwick had a word with the owner and then gave the crew the signal to unload.
‘Anything I can do?’ Louis asked one the workers.
The man said nothing, and just handed Louis a box to carry. As he helped, Louis noticed all the men were giving him a wide berth. None of them would even look at him.
A few minutes later, Warwick stopped Louis and took him aside. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to work. You’ve had a busy night. Why don’t you go up to your room and relax?’
‘But I can help,’ said Louis.
‘I know you can. But I think the others are a bit shaken up about you.’
Louis nodded and looked at his shoes.
‘They’ll come around,’ Warwick assured him. ‘You saved the convoy. They’ll understand that. They just need time, okay?’
‘Yeah, okay.’
Warwick handed him the key and Louis went inside. While the building was completely made of stone, Louis was thankful to see the furnishings were not. The place was pretty dead. There was only the innkeeper, cleaning tankards at the bar. Louis gave him a nod before heading upstairs to his room.
And then he was alone. Alone except for the stranger in his head, who was bursting to come out.