East of the Sun

Chapter 6

The beast-man lifted himself from on top of the woman, half afraid he crushed her in his hurry to protect her from the insects. If even one of the wasps lodged its stinger into her...

She pushed at him again. Since the danger was mollified he rose, shuffling back into the mill. He watched as she followed, thankful for his form for once; it allowed him to see what a more natural man might not have.

She walked oddly, stomping every crack and dark spot on the floor. For a moment he considered explaining that he sent the wasps back to their native country, but decided against it. Magic was not welcome in this new world. The less she knew the better.

She nearly tripped over the first corpse, flailing backward, horror pasted across her features at the sight of the bloated, seeping priest.

"The insects did that?" she asked after a moment.

"The venom wasps, yes."

She ran her fingers through the mess of blond hair. It had been braided at one point, but so much fell loose that only a small bit at the crown remained bound. It stood, lopsided at the top of her head.

His eyes followed the motion of her hands, and for one strange, sanity free moment, he longed to replaced them with his own.

Right. His paws would make a great impression, almost as good as making a romantic move in a mill filled with corpses. What was wrong with him?

"I guess I should have picked a different phial," she muttered.

"You threw that?" He assumed that someone from the market, perhaps one of the remaining pirates had lodged the insects. But this...

"I didn't know what was in it," she defended. He said nothing, still processing how close she came to causing her own demise. Even now, at least seven priests lay dead at her hands. She seemed to take offense to his silence. "What was I supposed to do? Pickled herring didn't work."

Pickled herring? The beast-man bit back a groan. Why did he have a feeling this woman was more trouble than she was worth? It would undoubtedly be wise to see her home and be free of her before she got him killed.

Oddly, a small part of him protested the idea. Trouble though she might be, something about her called to him. And it didn't hurt that her lack of caution extended to himself. She was the first woman since he returned to Alviora who hadn't run screaming after glimpsing his features.

"Are you always so much trouble?" he demanded.

She blinked at him, then looked down at the dead priest, nudging the crossbow that had fallen from his hands with her toe.

"Somehow I don't think this trouble sought me," she eyed him suspiciously. Her knowing gaze traveled the mill floor.

"No," he sighed, she was correct there.

"Are you going to explain why armed priests are hunting you?"

"No," he wasn't, so he turned from her and exited the mill.

***

Bryn looked at the empty doorway cautiously. Somehow the pirate captain survived the commotion. At least she thought he did, his chest still rose and fell, and she didn't see any swelling or seeping like the other corpses. She frowned, corpses of priests. She was in so much trouble. Why couldn't she have accidentally killed bandits, or... chickens? Why did it have to be priests?

Of course chickens couldn't attack the beast man with crossbows. So why were the priests? What evil could he have done to bring holy men after him?