Corambis
“The stagecoach had not been good for him. When he let me help him down in the stable yard of the Gull and Gringolet, I knew he was in a bad way.
“We’ll stay here to night,” I said. It was already past sundown; the last hour of the journey was an experience I would go well out of my way to avoid having ever again.
“Be ’spensive,” Mildmay said thickly. He was shivering, and I hoped he wasn’t developing an ague.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said— and nearly stumbled over my own feet when he said, “Okay,” and actually leaned on me for support.
We should have stayed in Arbalest, I thought— but he’d been impatient to keep going, and he’d truly seemed better. Even last night in the Blue Ox, I hadn’t noticed anything wrong. I wondered now, helping him up the stairs into the long, narrow foyer of the hotel, how much of that had been due to his honestly appalling skill at hiding any sign of illness.
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