Everyone sighed with welcomed relief when they emerged from the woods and onto a road that led to a small village. By then, the royals were looking less posh and more common, which Galahad said was important.

  Arthur was amazed by San's zest for life. Everything was a new fascination to the man, even if he had seen it a thousand times before.

  San led Chifton's reins. They paused when San stopped to take a look at something on the side of the road.

  "This plant has a unique look." San crouched low to examine a furled fern sapling.

  "It's another fern. Like all the other ferns in this forest and edging the roads." Galahad added his common sense.

  "Is it? But if you look closely, you'll see that no two ferns are the same. Each has its own shape and pattern. This one is unique because its curl has kinks."

  Arthur's mind zoomed in on San's words. His heart raced with longing. This expressed perspective had summed up his entire belief system. He understood why someone like Meaty Mike held him in high esteem. The man was a treasure.

  Galahad crouched next to San to join in with his observations, and nodded when he finally saw what San was pointing out. He smiled and patted his back. "Let's carry on."

  Their travels continued, reaching the first human settlement since leaving Chancealot. Although, Arthur had been glimpsing moving shadows along the way, which clung to the mud huts and large stone mill nearby. The commoners passing them didn't pay any heed, so whatever he was sensing might have been from the bandit attack in the forest or perhaps back at the city.

  "This is the inn we can stay at." San pointed to the largest building in the area.

  Again, no one paid them heed as they stepped into the noisy inn. A fire was roaring in the generous hearth at one end, and various tables filled most of the space. Naturally, the innkeeper was behind a small bar counter, wiping metal mugs clean with a dirty rag.

  "Hello, San, didn't think you'd come this way so soon." The burly innkeeper greeted San.

  "Well, my chances at the showdown didn't go so well." San sighed.

  The burly innkeeper patted his good shoulder and frowned when he saw the man's other one was in a sling.

  "I had an accident, which is why I was eliminated," San answered before the question could be asked.

  The innkeeper shook his head. "Well, if that's the case, first night's on the house. If you sing tonight, there's a chance you could earn some good coin."

  San's eyes lit up. "Really? I'd happily do so."

  Arthur frowned, thinking that the man was being too generous. But it was Galahad that spoke up.

  "So you're letting San stay in lieu of his bard services?" Galahad summed up the deal.

  The innkeeper frowned. "In loo? If you have issues with our loo's spit it out! I've the cleanest lavvies for miles around."

  "Huh?" Galahad stared at the burly man.

  They both blinked in their understandings of one another and relaxed with a chuckle.

  Arthur and San scratched their heads, not getting it.

  Seeing as the mood had relaxed, Arthur moved to take a seat at one of the tables near the hearth; leaving Galahad behind to have a hearty conversation with the innkeeper.

  San followed to take the seat opposite him.

  The sight of a fire behind San warmed Arthur's expression. His eyes reflected the delicate glow surrounding the man.

  "Thank you," Arthur said with awkward modesty. "I mean, for the room and helping us with the horse. Although, the nag didn't end up being much help, but still."

  He internally cursed at his fumbling that was making him look like an idiot. It wasn't like him at all. Something about San was drawing out odd sides of himself. Whether that was a good or bad thing was yet to be determined.

  San chuckled and eased his tensions with a smile. "I heard some people say that you were selfish, heartless and a bit narcissistic, but I was right to think that you were nothing of the sort."

  "Oh? Do you have names, so I can chop off their heads later?" Arthur frowned.

  "No chopping off heads." San pursed his lips in a scolding moue.

  Arthur found the man's expression cute rather than rude. If anything, the man wasn't afraid to speak his mind in front of him, and he admired that.

  His expression relaxed. "Fine. No head-chopping, for now."

  Galahad soon joined them with three full mugs that he dumped on the table. The three of them felt their aches ease through sips of their dark ale. A while later, the inn was bustling with local patrons.

  Arthur was pleasantly amused at the way people greeted San like he was an old friend. His guilt surfaced when some people made comments about his slung arm. He downed his feelings with hearty gulps of his ale.

  "Sing us a song, San!" An elderly lady cried out from the din.

  San grinned and rose to his feet. He stood before the fires and began to stomp his feet to a beat and sing a merry song. Soon he had everyone chinking their mugs to the rhythm and singing along. It seemed the song was a local favorite.

  Arthur's eyes sparkled the whole time he silently watched the man glow before the crowd. He had seen many bards perform at court, but none captivated audiences the way San did. He was the real deal.

  "Eh?" Galahad's lips twitched with a chuckle at the sight of Arthur's mellow expression as he watched San. "The ale going to your head?"

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  Arthur broke his gaze away from the performance. "You can talk. How's your new friend?"

  Galahad sighed. "He said tough times are ahead. There's talk of dark magic spreading out from the Witch Heart Kingdom. People fleeing the Northern Lands tell the tale."

  "We should send word."

  "Already have a raven flying. Let our fathers deal with the threat, we have other matters to tick off." He reassured Arthur.

  San rejoined them. The men finished off the ale and headed upstairs for their room to sleep.

  Arthur was about to complain about how the room was the same size as his closet, but held back his thoughts. San had gone through the trouble and used his good relations with the innkeeper to get a roof over their heads for the night. He didn't want to insult his good gesture.

  Galahad was surprised to see Arthur enter the cramp and almost clean space without back talk. Even more so when the prince gave up rights to the lone bed to San.

  "I'll sleep on the chair." Arthur took the alternative.

  "But it doesn't feel right for you to sleep in the chair. You're a prince," San said, looking uncomfortable by the decision.

  "Yes, a selfish, heartless man who only cares for his hairstyle." Arthur teased him and slammed a fist to his chest when the sight of San's blushing cheeks sent his heart racing.

  "You've earned this, San. Now sleep." He sternly ordered the man.

  Galahad eyed Arthur carefully, but then he saw the chair's position near the window and nodded. "I'll stay outside with Chifton a bit longer. Want to savor the fresh air."

  San felt awkward as he laid down on the bed, but soon he was snoring soundly. Unlike Arthur, who was keeping watch from the window. He kept his guard up. Fortunately, an uneventful night came and went. The three men reunited out front of the inn.

  San mentioned that he was going to buy some nuts from the stand ahead. Arthur gave him extra coins to buy six bags.

  "An extra one for you, since, well." Arthur diffidently coughed behind his hand.

  Galahad frowned. Seeing all these different sides to his friend made him wonder if being let out of Chancealot was making him more expressive. Well, whatever, Arthur was being a better person either way. He was glad that San had tagged along. The man was good for them.

  They waited at a distance near the eaves of a shack, keeping watch of the quiet movements around the village. Locals went about their business and nothing seemed untoward until they saw concerned people with their attention on a specific direction. Some hastily scurried away.

  They shared a glance when they saw four beefy and nasty-looking fellows, in well-worn and shoddy patched leather armor, holey boots, and scars on their dirt streaked faces, extorting San, who was hugging bags of peanuts before the peanut stand.

  "You can afford a coin or two, right?" One nasty fellow sniggered.

  "Yeah, be a charitable sod and help a man out." Another smirked as he inched closer to the man.

  "Charity? Are you poor too?" San innocently answered.

  "I can help you." Arthur stepped in between the men and San.

  The prince's show of bravery sent San's heart racing. Truly a shining knight.

  "Get to Chifton," he whispered to San.

  Galahad grabbed the bags from San's arm and nudged him toward the white stallion at their rear. He was soon shoving them in one of the saddlebags.

  "Stay at my side." Chifton huffed to San, who obeyed.

  "You took our prey!" A nasty fellow let out his outburst at Arthur, when San was out of his sight.

  Arthur grinned and drew his sword. "Prey? I don't think you qualify as a hunter."

  "Quala what?" The nasty fellow questioned.

  "Ko-a-la." The other nasty fellow explained to his mate. "He's saying you're not like a koala hunter."

  "What's that?" the nasty fellow asked his mate.

  "A hunter?" another of the four asked.

  "No, no, a ko-a-la." the other reconfirmed.

  The other scratched his head and replied. "Dunno, a kind of bear, I think."

  "A bear? How big is it?" the nasty fellow continued to ask into the matter.

  "Um, like a cat, maybe," the other responded.

  "A bear the size of a cat?! That ain't no bear! Bear cub, maybe, since they can be born at eight ounces. But certainly not a full adult bear."

  "What about a snow bear?" One of them chimed in. "Dem cubs can be sixteen ounces."

  Soon the four thugs were having a healthy argument about bears before the peanut stand. At which time, Arthur and the others had given them the slip.

  They had managed to get a good mile between them and the village when they were blocked by masked bandits.

  "Get the blondie. Kill the others." One of the bandits pointed at Arthur.

  "Blimey. Is there a day when some bandit doesn't want to kill us?" Galahad groaned.