They rode as long and as hard as the big black horse could tolerate, but eventually it tired, especially since it carried two grown men on its back. They were reduced to walking and leading the horse alongside when they came to a small inn. "I'm so hungry," Emilian complained. "Let's stop here for the night."
"Do you have money?" Master Long asked flatly.
"Don't you?" Emilian frowned at the white-haired man. "I heard you paid three silver taels to the men who came to fetch me from the tent."
Master Long gave him a bland look. "Those weren't real. They were just stones I picked up along the road."
"But how…" Emilian shook his head, "never mind." He really didn't want to hear the explanation of how Long had managed to convince three grown men that the stones in his hand were taels. He shook his head and rubbed his empty and aching belly. He would just survive. It wasn't like he had never known hunger before, he could bear it again.
