Chapter 5 - Look for a Warm Meal

The rough towel chafed against Sarah’s damp skin, but the scrape felt good, a welcome sensation after hours of gritty discomfort. She pulled it tight around her waist, feeling the reassuring weight of the leather jerkin settle on her shoulders as she straightened and gathered up her things.

Her boots thumped softly against the worn earthen floor as she returned to the small hut, finding the woman still hunched over her workbench, a thin plume of smoke curling from her nostrils in rhythmic puffs with each deep breath. She'd finished patching the leather saddlebag she’d been working on and now meticulously smoothed its surface with an oiled rag.

"Good evening," Sarah said, trying for a smile that didn't feel too strained after days of grim determination. "I meant to ask, do you know where one might find lodging here in this...oasis?"

The woman glanced up at her, regarding the knight with an appraising eye. She chewed on a thick strand of twine, eyes narrowed in thought for a moment before she finally grunted a reply.

"There's The Dusty Camel just past the well," she said, gesturing with her chin towards a weathered wooden sign nailed crookedly to the wall beyond Sarah’s head. "Run by old Maeva. She'll feed you and put you up for a few copper pieces if you ain't too fussy."

Sarah nodded eagerly. “I appreciate that,” she said, tucking a stray lock of hair back behind her ear with a weary hand.

"There's talk," the woman added, lowering her voice slightly as if sharing a secret. "That Maeva has a bit of…a way with men.”

Sarah felt a blush creep up her cheeks, quick and warm under the watchful gaze of the old woman.

“Yes, well,” she managed to reply, choosing to ignore the veiled implication and instead focusing on the promise of warmth and sleep. “I am grateful for any place that offers rest." She took another deep breath, feeling a renewed surge of energy as anticipation warmed her from the inside out.

"Perhaps I’ll have a good meal before bed then," she added with a smile that felt brighter than it had in weeks.

"Good riddance to your grime, pilgrim," the woman grumbled, resuming her work on a leather strap. "Maybe Maeva will even manage to scrub some sense into you."

Sarah chuckled as she turned away from the workbench and stepped back into the twilight outside. It wasn't exactly flattering praise, but it was enough. With a last nod of thanks to the old woman, Sarah set off down the narrow path towards the well, her boots crunching happily on the dry earth.

She walked with a lightness she hadn’t known in weeks – light of body and spirit. The promise of hot food and a bed wasn't just a physical comfort; it was a beacon of hope that pierced through the gloom of the wasteland like a starburst against the darkening sky. Maybe, she thought as she went, the Holy City wouldn't be so far away after all.