21 Saun 716
Godric leaned over his breakfast bowl and spooned another mountain of porridge into his mouth, warm milk trickling down through his rough, unkept beard only to fall from his chin into the bowl again. Malcolm sat in silence, staring at the man who ate in a style akin to that of a starved animal. "What?" Godric put his elbow down on the table and looked across at Malcolm. "You try being shipwrecked and clinging to a part of your boat until someone finds you, then we'll see how hungry you are."
Malcolm smirked. "That's your third bowl."
"And?" Godric mumbled with a mouthful of food.
"And I'd like to get on the road soon."
"Don't worry, knight, I won't slow you down."
Malcolm finished his breakfast and left the bowl on the table for one of the inn staff to clear away while they were gone from the room. The knight wore a pair of worn leather pants, a black tunic with blue trim, and strapped his leather belt around his midsection, making sure his throwing knives and sword were equipped securely. In the sixty-three days Malcolm had spent at sea, his hair had grown in messy curls down the back of his neck, and he slicked them back with water to straighten them into tamed waves. He kept his stubble short, and had managed to put on some weight since his stay as a slave in the fighting arena.
"Will the two of you be needing horses?" The young stable boy inquired as they walked towards the gate.
"No thank you, lad, our business is within the city walls," Malcolm smiled.
Godric held his belly as they made their way down the road towards the city centre. "I could have done with a horse."
"You eat like one," Malcolm quipped.
Godric chuckled. "Where to first?"
"I checked with the booking office upon arrival in Ne'haer and there was record of Black arriving in the city with his wife and son. A closer look revealed that, if the records are correct, he should still be in Ne'haer."
"No record of him leaving?"
"Not unless it was under a different name or he took a private vessel."
Godric stopped in the road. "So we check in with the citizens office or the housing office?"
"Those two as well as the library, which I suspect would have record of his name change, if he indeed got one."
"Perhaps we should split up then? I'll go to the library and check the records, you go to the housing office and see if he registered for housing and we can meet at that tasty little pastry shop I saw on the way to the inn last night?"
"I'll meet you at the housing office when you're done at the library," Malcolm grinned.
"Spoil sport."