When he woke, bright sunlight was spilling in through dusty, blurry panes of cheap glass. All seemed normal outside, to judge from the level of noise and what little of the words he could make out. Pulling on his boots and weapons, he crept downstairs and stood where he could see out the shop window without anyone seeing him.
A great many guards filled the streets, so they must still be looking for him. Not that it would do much good, given he'd been masked the whole time, but they would definitely take notice of a heavily armed, wounded man.
He'd just have to keep waiting it out. Hopefully the innkeeper wouldn't sell him out. But then, nearly everyone in this city seemed to despise King Mercen and the foreign soldiers harassing and overtaking them, so he wasn't too worried about the innkeeper. On the other hand, if they had reason to suspect he was hiding something, threats and money went a long way toward loosening tongues.