Seeing that the caravan had cleared a path, Lawrence urged the carriage through at once.
Before night fell completely, they finally reached the waystation.
Unlike the filthy, shabby place Bruce had expected, this waystation was reasonably clean, with no loiterers hanging around. After paying in advance for two rooms for the night, Bruce said goodbye to Lawrence, carried his suitcase upstairs, and locked himself in his room.
His room was on the second floor. It was small, with a bed and a table. Beside the table was a window overlooking the road outside the waystation.
The bed was hard, but it would do for one night. The waystation had no hot water either, so he could not bathe tonight.
"Finally, I can move around."
Bruce opened the suitcase and let Fawcett, who had been cramped inside, out to stretch.
"Keep your voice down."
Bruce tapped Fawcett on the head. The rooms were separated by nothing more than wooden boards, so the soundproofing was terrible. He took out the Dark Bible. It was certainly too early to sleep, and he intended to read a little more before bed.
The Dark Bible contained many spells, and Bruce had yet to learn them all by heart. With no one disturbing him, he naturally threw himself into studying magic.
Later that night, a little commotion arose outside the waystation.
Bruce looked out the window and saw the caravan they had encountered on the road.
The caravan was escorting a large shipment of goods, so it traveled slowly to begin with. Arriving at the waystation at this hour was about what he would have expected. Bruce glanced at it once, then paid it no further attention.
"It's getting late. I'm going to sleep."
Bruce shut the window and placed the Dark Bible beneath his pillow.