Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me; I am simply borrowing them for the time being and will put them back when I'm done.
Chapter2:
After forty more minutes of limping through the rain and wind Bill finally arrived at the little town. The streets were deserted as he made his way to the nearest pub and hotel, he paused at the door to wipe the blood from his face, using the pouring rain, cleaned his knife before pocketing it and stepped into the warm dry pub. Inside half a dozen people sat about at several tables, few bothered to take notice of Bill as he headed to a table near the fire at the back. A barmaid was with him as soon as he sat down.
"What'll it be?" the woman asked.
"A plate of hot stew and a beer." Bill said, placing his hat on the table. "Do you have any rooms for the night?"
"Aye, will you be needing one?"
"Yea."
"I'll have one readied for you. Your dinner won't be long." She said as she headed to the kitchen.
Bill rubbed a hand across his weary eyes, he decided he wouldn't be scouting any job that night. He was tired, the weather was terrible, and his leg throbbed painfully. Perhaps he would forget the whole thing and try to catch a ride back to London in the morning. Already this simple job had become far too complicated. If the two men he had fought were from around the area, which was more than likely, he could be in for more trouble than it was worth if he stuck around. He was also a bit concerned that he had struck his first attacker too hard in the heat of the moment. Not that it would have been the first time he'd killed a man but the other man could pick him out as the killer. Bill made up his mind to leave first thing in the morning, he would have left straight away had his leg not been injured.
The woman returned with his dinner and beer moments later. She handed Bill a room key. "Number three." She said.
"Thanks." Bill said, he took a long drink of beer and tucked into his meal. As soon as he had finished he paid for his meal and room, then waited for the woman to leave, ashamed of his limp, and headed for the second floor and room three.
Once inside his room he locked and bolted the door, hen leaned his back against it as he did a quick survey of the room. There was a hearth with a fire burning in it to heat the room, an overstuffed chair next to a small table and what looked to Bill like a very comfortable bed. Resting next to the fire place Bill spotted a rack for drying clothing. He pulled it out and hung his wet clothing on it to dry before sliding under the covers of the warm bed. Switching off the lamp beside him, his head sunk into the pillows and he was soon fast asleep.
The next morning Bill awoke later than he would have on a usual morning. The sun had been up for hours by the time he threw back the covers revealing a knee which was stiff, swollen and purple. As much as it hurt he was certain it wasn't broken. He flexed it a several times before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and retrieving his now dry clothes from the rack by the fire. He sat back on the bed as he awkwardly pulled his trousers over his injured knee, then out on his shirt, vest and coat.
Once Bill was dressed he checked out the window to see if the rain had let up. The sun shone down intermittently between the many clouds that filled the sky, it looked as thought the rain had just recently stopped, though he didn't hold out much hope of it remaining that way. Bill decided he should head out before the rain did start again, hoping it wouldn't be too late to catch a ride back to London, not relishing the thought of a long walk on a bad leg.
He checked around the room to ensure he hadn't left anything behind, then unbolted the door and headed down to the pub. Not pausing to speak to a soul, he wordlessly handed the room key to the man at the bar and headed into the street. The housebreaker decided to take the main road out of town, not wanting a repeat of the previous day's events and knowing he would have a better chance of catching a cart heading to London.
The walk was a slow one for the road was wet and muddy; Bill had to make his way around the many puddles and ruts that covered the ground. It was nearly an hour before Bill saw anyone else on the road. An empty cart with a solitary man driving was rumbling up from behind, Bill stood to the side as the cart slowed and stopped next to him.
"Need a lift?" the man asked.
"Aye." Said Bill. "Are you heading to London?"
"I am. Climb in." He motioned to the empty cart.
"Thank you kindly." Bill said. It took him a bit longer than it normally would have but he managed to climb into the cart unassisted.
"No problem, no sense in leaving you to walk when I have no load anyhow." The man said. "You seem to be having a tough go of it besides."
Bill nodded "Hurt it yesterday walking in the blinding rain."
"You weren't the only one, though you were most likely the luckier." The man commented. "They found a man dead on the road yesterday, not this one mind you but one near here. There are always robbers on that road. I don't know why anyone uses it."
Bill looked down at his shoes, he realized that had been a possibility that that man had died, it didn't really bother him but it meant he wouldn't be back up that way for a while. He only hoped that the other robber, David, wouldn't be dumb enough to say anything to the police.
"Did they say how he died?" Bill asked, playing dumb.
"They say it was a botched robbery. The dead man was no stranger to the police; he and his brother were always in trouble. They probably just chose the wrong man to cross." The man answered. "But that's enough of this unpleasantness. What do you do for a living?"
"Carpenter." Bill answered easily. He actually did know a thing or two about the trade considering many of the tools were the same he used in his line of work.
The two men chatted for a while before falling into a comfortable silence. Bill sank down in the cart and watched the trees roll by, he was thankful that there were very few people on the road. Every passing person was just one more person was just one more to be suspicious of; he knew he wouldn't feel safe until he was back in London.