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I hear by swear to never again promise quicker updates. I only ever jinx myself.

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Chapter Nine

When they finally arrived in Oakfield James mood had improved somewhat. However, that improvement only served to cause his absolute hatred of Sparrow to resurface once again. They had walked nonstop for the last thirteen hours and James was about ready to collapse from hunger and exhaustion. Of course it was all Sparrow's fault. Just because he was used to travelling on foot.

The sun was shining merrily in the sky as they traipsed down the road towards the town, both limping badly with their identical leg wounds. Only Pumpkin seemed to be none the worse for wear and he trotted along beside them with his tongue lolling out of one side of his mouth.

As they approached a cottage at the end of the road a very large man with a very non-threatening moustache stepped forward to greet them. James stopped mid step and edged behind Sparrow. Force of habit, he told himself. The journey had left him a nervous wreck and even the sight of a sheriff made him wary.

"Good day!" the sheriff said, tilting his head to them in greeting. For a moment he paused, eyeing the state both boys were in. Thankfully he said nothing about it and continued, "Wasn't expecting to see two new faces in town today."

Pumpkin, who had been exploring the coach house, came bounding over to them once again, perking his ears up at the sight of the sheriff.

"Three new faces even!" the sheriff corrected himself, "Well, I'm Bill and I'm the sheriff around here. Just so you know, I won't tolerate any trouble making in my town, is that clear?"

James shot a wry smirk at Sparrow out of the corner of his eye. "Think you can manage that?" he muttered. Sparrow shot him a similar look but said nothing in return.

"That said," Bill went on, "I hope you enjoy your stay... Er, the inn is just down the road, past the watermill. I don't know but I get the feeling you two could do with some rest."

"Thank you," James said quickly, relieved at the idea of actually being able to crawl under a soft warm blanket and sleep for the next twelve hours. He didn't even care that it was the middle of the day. He just wanted to rest.

"Have a good'n," Bill replied, tipping his hat before turning and making his way back off towards town. James and Sparrow watched him go and then focused their gazes upon one another again.

"I just hope they have two rooms this time," James said stiffly after a moment. Sparrow snorted in apparent muted amusement and they followed after the sheriff towards town.

The inn was obvious enough as they made their way along the little dirt tracks through the fields. Besides the small number of houses dotted around the place it seemed to be the only other building in all of Oakfield. James and Sparrow walked side by side in silence, much like they had ever since they'd escaped from the hobbe cave. They crossed the bridge and finally came to a stop in front of the Sandgoose.

"This is it then," Sparrow said, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops, "I believe this is where yeh said we parted ways?"

James nodded, crossing his arms across his chest uncomfortably. "Yes, I suppose it is." He glanced at the villagers milling about around them before his gaze reluctantly returned to Sparrow. He supposed it made a nice change that Sparrow wasn't leering at him. Perhaps he was more tired than he'd let on. "Well then. Good bye and... well, thank you for helping me."

"Ah, yeh welcome," Sparrow replied, shrugging carelessly. James nodded one, briskly before edging past Sparrow and heading into the inn. "See yeh later, Pumpkin," Sparrow added cheerfully.

"It's James!" he snapped, without even breaking his stride.

- - -

To James' relief, there was a room available for him and he snapped it up in an instant, this time unfazed by the price thanks to his own somewhat unremarkable savings. He'd vanished into the bedroom, kicked off his shoes and crawled beneath the thick, somewhat scratchy sheets. They weren't nearly as nice as what he was used to, but right then he couldn't have cared less. He was asleep in moments.

He only awoke when the sounds of someone thumping about in the room next door caught his attention. Stirring beneath his blankets, James lifted his head groggily and scowled at the open doorway, wondering who could possibly be making such a racket. He supposed it was probably Sparrow and since his dreams had been filled with hobbes and dogs and bloody pumpkins, he had every intention of having it out with the 'hero'.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, James climbed to his feet, only to very nearly topple to the ground the moment he did so. He hissed a breath in through his teeth and closed his eyes tightly as he waited for the pain to fade. Evidently, the potion Sparrow had given him had worn off.

As the pain receded, James got to his feet again, more carefully this time and limped towards the door. He paused to put his shoes back on but then dismissed it. He'd had a pedicure recently and the floors were oddly well polished for such a rural town so there was no need. Instead he simply continued on his way to the next room.

Convinced as he was that the person next door was Sparrow, James was really rather surprised when he hobbled through the doorway only to be greeted with the sight of a very peculiar looking man. The stranger looked up, blinking hugely at him over his large nose.

"Oh," James said and hating himself for sounding almost disappointed, "Terribly sorry. I thought someone else was in here."

The man smiled quirkily and shook his head. "No, no, it's quite alright. A perfectly fathomable bloomer to make." He reached up and fiddled with a pair of goggles he wore strapped to the top of his head, reminding James – rather unnecessarily – that he wasn't quite normal. He thought he should probably leave but there was something frighteningly fascinating about the strange man that kept him rooted to the spot.

Noticing that James didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave, the odd man smiled a bit wider and took a step forward. "The name's Barnum." He held out his hand to James to shake. For a long moment all James did was stare at the hand like it was personally offending to him, but eventually he took it and gave it a tentative little shake.

"James."

"Wondrous to meet you, James!" Barnum burst out loudly, drowning James's little shake with an excited one of his own. "I don't believe I've seen you in town before. Just arrived have you?"

James nodded, carefully extracting his hand from Barnum's. "Yes, I just got here from Rookridge. I'm still rather tired so perhaps I should..."

"Rookridge?" Barnum asked cheerfully. "So you saw the bridge then? Marvellous, isn't it? I acquired the deeds from some shady fellow a few days ago. Barely cost me anything!"

Pausing in his slow backwards retreat from the room, James blinked at Barnum in surprise. "You own the bridge?" he asked. Barnum nodded, his head bobbing up and down like a fishing hook in water. Well, this was awkward. "Um, hate to be the bearer of bad news and all that but... I'm afraid your bridge has been a bit... blown up?"

The cheerful expression faded from Barnum's face to be replaced with a confused frown. "Blown up?"

"As in 'destroyed', yes," James replied, backing up until he was hovering just outside the doorway.

"Oh, but- but this is- this is calamitous!" He fixed James with a worried, droopy eyed stare. "You are sure it was my bridge, aren't you? You couldn't be erroneous?"

"Is your bridge the bridge next to the coach house and the inn?"

Barnum's face fell and his shoulders slumped forward. "Oh."

Now feeling thoroughly awkward, James glanced around and took a single small step back towards his own room. "Well, I'm sorry about your bridge... I'll, er, just leave you now... Bye."

And with that he vanished back into the safety of his bed.

After snuggling down beneath the sheets again, James listened closely to the sound of Barnum's footsteps pacing around in his room, before finally leaving and heading out into the tavern proper. James felt a vague pang of pity for the strange little man, but it was fleeting and before he knew it he drifted off again, lulled to sleep by the steady hum of voices from outside.

- - -

When he woke the second time it was early evening and he felt fully refreshed, if still somewhat sore. Yawning and stretching he pushed back the sheets and sat up. He could hear people talking and laughing outside of his window. It was a pleasant sound and he simply sat there for a few moments listening. It was certainly more peaceful out here than in the city. If it wasn't for his reason for being there, as well as the unfortunate manner of his arrival, James would have almost gone as far as to say he was rather enjoying himself.

As it was though, he had business to attend to.

After getting redressed in his dirty but blessedly dry clothes, James limped out his room and out into the tavern. He hoped the wound in his leg would stop hurting soon.

The tavern was filled with the usual sort of people; men sat at the bar getting blind drunk and swearing emphatically at the bartender about their unfaithful wives and the sheer audacity of that one cow who simply wouldn't be milked; women giggled and danced by the bard who was, quite frankly, terrible. James smiled faintly as he passed them by and headed out into the evening air.

It was quieter outside. A few people sat around talking and one man seemed to be pulling his hair out in quiet frustration at the gambling table. Children ran around in the field to the side of the tavern, playing. And there was Sparrow, perched on the wall of the bridge directly opposite where James was standing, watching him. Pumpkin was lying at his feet with a ball between his paws. When he spotted James he lifted his head and wagged his tail lazily.

For a while, none of them moved. Sparrow continued to stare, the corner of his mouth slowly pulling upwards into a smirk while James became more and more flustered. Eventually though it was Pumpkin who broke the staring match. He picked up his ball and waddled over to James, wagging his tail hard enough to make his entire back end sway back and forth. He stopped directly in front of James and dropped the ball at his feet, looking up at him expectantly.

James gave the ball an awkward sideways glance. It was slimy and covered in bits of grass and mud. There was no way he was even going to consider picking that up. He toed it away and shook his head at Pumpkin. "No. Go away. Go ask him." He nodded venomously in Sparrow's direction.

Sparrow, however, seemed to take that as an invitation to approach. James huffed and stood his ground, glaring at Sparrow half-heartedly. Sparrow shot a wry grin at him before plucking the ball off the ground – slimy grass and all – and tossed it down the road and into the river. Pumpkin yelped in excitement and went tearing off after it.

"So... James," Sparrow started, still watching Pumpkin who had just leapt into the water after his ball. James did not like his tone of voice at all, "I was wonderin' if yeh could do me a favour?"

Bristling with displeasure, James folded his arms and hunched up his shoulders. "What kind of favour?" he asked warily. God help him it was any kind of sexual favour... he remembered what Sparrow had said to him in the inn back in Bowerstone and promptly shut down that train of thought.

Curiously enough, Sparrow actually looked sheepish for a moment before he flattened that expression with a more usual grin. "How well can yeh cook?"

Le Gaspe! The audacity of him. o_o