front door flew off its hinges. A squad of booted soldiers charged inside. Sherri shot to her feet and glared at the red-shirted captain. “Can’t you use a door handle like all the rest of these people!” Her poor tavern was going to need major reconstruction.
The mustachioed captain sneered as he gazed hot-eyed around the room. “I’m looking for the red-tressed, sword-slinging she-devil called Beer-Sheba, who is reported to be seen sometimes around this dubious establishment.” He glanced toward the hole in the roof. “And I hereby levy a fine of one hundred copper klarks for conducting business in a structurally unsafe building.”
Bud held out his roach toward the captain, and the roach hissed.
“The bug is a good judge of character,” the barbarian laughed, his arm still around the sailor.
The captain turned as red as his shirt. “Kill him!” he ordered his men with a snap of his fingers. Then he snapped his fingers at Bud. “Then kill that one and his little bug, too.” He shot another look around the room. Then, with three more snaps, he drew his sword. “Oh, just kill everybody!”
The fallen guardsman still on the floor flailed again. “Rabid weasels!” he cried. Sherri put her foot on his chest. For a fine winter night, things were not going well at all. If word spread around town about this kind of excitement, it could triple her business, and the Rampant Rooster really couldn’t handle the overflow.
Throughout the tavern, steel suddenly glittered. Even Sweet Tansy produced a blade as her customers prepared to square off with the captain and his guards. Sherri knew she had to act. “Wait, wait, wait!” she appealed as she moved to the center of the room. “Can’t we all just get along? I’ve been to the mountain, and I have a dream . . . ”
Lord Pompey put on a look of boredom and waved his hand. “Whatever,” he said.
Sherri frowned at the pompously plump nobleman as she held a staying hand toward the captain. “Well what about free beer for everybody!”
The crowd surged past her, even the captain’s men, as they pushed up against the bar where the dwarf, perched upon a stool, began to set up mugs as fast as his short arms could draw the brews. Sherri leaned toward the captain and whispered in a deepening voice, “If you really want to find the legendary warrior, the Queen of Steel, and the Scourge of Patriarchies Everywhere, then gird up your shriveled loins and be in the alley in ten minutes.” She put out a surreptitious hand and brushed her palm over his crotch. “A piece of advice as well. If I were you, I’d forget about the fine of one hundred klarks.”
Suddenly nervous, he blinked. “What fine?”
Sherri put her nose right up against the captain’s, staring into his eyes, controlling him now as a snake-charmer would a snake. “Fine,” she answered.
A scream sounded in the street beyond the shattered door, and a barely glimpsed body went flying past. Lady Gravelot, turning pale, set down her beverage and covered her white diaphanous gown with a heavy cloak as she edged toward the tavern’s back door with Lord Pompey in tow.
The captain of the guard fell back a step. “Did you hear that snarl?” he said. “Rabid weasels! They’re running amok!”
Except for the scream and the drunken muttering throughout the room, Sherri heard nothing, no snarling or any other animal noises, but she couldn’t deny that a man had dropped through her roof and another had just flown past her door. Her green eyes narrowed to slits. “The alley,” she reminded the captain. “Ten minutes.” Then, she called to the dwarf, “Bud, a last drink for everybody, then close it down!
Sherri pressed through the crowd to a staircase that led to upper rooms. The Rampant Rooster had been a brothel before she bought it and converted the upstairs for her own use. As she climbed the stairs, she glanced back and noted that her customers were already beginning to slink away, aware that something strange was happening. Or maybe the hole in the roof was just putting a chill on their good spirits. It certainly chilled hers.
At least her bedroom with its own fireplace was warm. Sherri began shedding her skirts and throwing them upon the bed. In her undergarments, she crossed the room and opened an old chest. As she did so, Bud walked into the bedroom. “Does this mean we’re saddling up, boss?” he said
Sherri nodded as she bent