Hakon woke up for the third time just after dawn.
On each of the other two occasions, he'd needed to wake up to empty himself: first his stomach, and then his bowels. He had a painful head injury that throbbed in his temples, and his mouth felt he'd washed it out with liquid from the midden before he'd vomited up an acidic slurry of chicken, dumplings, and mead. He felt like warmed over death.
Ajax, by contrast, seemed fine. Or at least, the lad slept through it when Hakon woke up. When he returned to bed the second time, he deposited the blankets on top of the lad and got into bed with him. He would not wake up with stiff muscles on Hakon's account. He was perfectly capable of restraining himself and he felt too lousy to think about anything carnal, besides.
On the third time he woke up, he groaned softly, got up to use the privy again, and with shaky steps realized that they would be staying over at the inn longer than anticipated. If not one more day than at least through midday before riding out in the afternoon. He was in no shape to ride, and on the off-chance that anything untoward happened to them on the road, he did not trust his reflexes to keep Ajax safe. By all rights they should be safe on the roads here, as they were not so far from Oxentide yet that he was overly worried, but why take the chance?
Besides, he thought, after drinking half a pitcher of water from a ewer left on the bar counter, he'd promised Andros he would train Ajax to fight anyway. He could spar in worse conditions than he could ride in, especially since he would be overseeing the training of someone else.
So it was that he asked the innkeeper for a light, bland breakfast and some cold water, then roused Ajax with the news.
"We stay here this morning, lad," Hakon said, still looking a bit green despite the hydration. "We are closing in the last known whereabouts of our quarry anyhow, so I think it best that I make good on my promise to train you in self-defense."