Suffering fools, Ana Belén thought, was one of Royalty's virtues, but for her, it was less about patience and more about lacerations.

War had engrained in her, from an early age, the necessity to never leave a potential enemy behind. A lesson underscored by how her father's initial softness had led to her mother's untimely death.

"Mistress, that's all I know," the bandit stammered, tears carving paths through the dirt on his face.

"I... I... have children, Mistress. We were just going to hand him over—" the man's pleas cut off. They always have children, wives, and mothers; perhaps they needed a better father. The callousness of her thought startled her. In Alcántara, I'll leave all this behind.

Shadows created by the campfire danced on the man's face, indifferent to his fate. Slowly, the forest's normalcy returned; crickets restarted their nightly song, and bats squeaked out on their nocturnal patrol.

Her hand trembled, the weight of decision in her grasp. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Luisa's hand signal—a silent offer that she would carry the burden.

Adrián, hanging from the branch, groaned, but she ignored him and concentrated on her target.

"What you must do. You! Must do!" She whispered Captain Ferraro's words. Years of repeat had turned it into the mantra of the path thrust onto her. She could have used him in this escape.

A real owl hooted this time as if signaling the end of her debate.

She gripped the pistol tighter, declined Luisa's offer with a shake of her head, took a deep, steadying breath, and pulled the trigger—her daily promise of restraint once again unkept.

The forest returned to silence. She sighed. What's done is done!

"We need to finish this!" she anxiously commented to no one. Then, with a deep inhale, she started to move. They were in a hostile camp, surrounded by bodies with a hostage to rescue.

Captain Ferraro barked, "Contemplation kills you!"

"Search their belongings!" She commanded while turning toward the naked hanging figure.

Growing up in the middle of an army had removed any shyness about male bodies long ago. When she was ten, she had snuck and watched the men shower, and at sixteen, she had dabbled with a Duke's son. A damsel in distress, she was not.

As she neared, her eyes widened at the man's Chorizo, and she whistled appreciably at its size.

"Why, Conde Torreblanca, I see why you're so proud of your seductive prowess," she shouted to the figure, her falchion pointing at his midsection, mirth in her voice.

Then, with a swift swing of her falchion, she unceremoniously cut the rope that suspended him from his feet, and he plummeted four feet to land with an audible thud.

She leaned over to his ear.

"Be sure you don't get it cut off!" Her whisper carried an ominous warning. Years around rough men had taught her that a warning now would avoid needless bloodshed later.

So far, she wasn't impressed with her would-be guide across the treacherous border.

His eyes widened in terror as his hands covered his manhood protectively!

You're lucky my aunt sent you, or I would have done more!

The terrified look smoothly blended into a smirk and a wink, and he said, "Oh, lovely rescuer, I assure you that weaving exaggerated tales is my true prowess."

Her glare could peel his skin.

It will be a long ride to Alcántara!

Accompanied travel, Adrián had been told, was much safer. However, in his travels, he learned that it depended on whether the company was friends or slavers.

"Count Diego, I'm famished! Kindly hurry up, gather the wood, and cook supper." The shrilling voice of Mistress Elara announced as she sat leisurely near the brook, sipping the tea he had just brought.

"Indeed, Mistress Elara. The stew shall be ready shortly!"

He had no clue who this Count Diego was, yet the mere mention of his name sparked an irrational annoyance. While he prepared to start cooking, Adrián couldn't help but wonder about the man whose identity he'd accidentally hijacked. He'd play along; traveling with the fierce beasts was safer.

"Count Diego, see to the warming of water for Luisa, for her feet suffer from the day's travels."

He mused about just turning himself in and marrying the Captain's daughter. How much worse could it be?

"Certainly, Mistress Elara." How could the woman's feet be swollen when he was the only one walking?

What had possessed him to tell that story? He implored the heavens for an answer. He now also had to pay restitution for "damaging the honor of gentle Luisa."

Gentle Luisa, Ha! The woman could hit a rabbit at twenty paces without aiming. Gentle!

He had never encountered such shameless women. At every objection, they brought up the rescue, and Mistress Elara would pull out the very sharp falchion. So, he had become their unpaid butler. He now had to set up camp, cook, serve, clean, feed the—yeah, that was the other thing; the she-demon rode a devil-spawned quadruped that loved to bite and kick him at every chance.

He stoked the fire as he plotted his escape. The nightly chorus of the forest followed the waning dusk light.

He faintly heard the she-demon humming a tune, as she often did. He didn't know it, but it seemed familiar. It gnawed at him. If there's time tonight, I'll work it out with the lute.

While setting the stew on the fire and stirring it, his thoughts turned to Mistress Elara. Although she tried to disguise her nobility, she was obviously noble. What was a noblewoman doing traveling alone?

He played with a bobbing potato, distracted. He cocked his head, trying to better hear a faint howl in the distance.

"Is it ready yet?" Luisa asked, startling him. A Montaraz accent. The sudden realization made him pause as a cascade of conjectures fell into place.

"Uh... Yes. Just a few more minutes," he answered quickly, realizing he had been frozen for a few seconds. They were crossing western Valoria to reach Alcántara.

"You may join Mistress Elara. I'll deliver it to the tent when it's ready," he added, trying to sound casual. That's a very roundabout way to get there.

Luisa turned and left. A scowl on her face. He threw an appreciative look at her receding round bottom. Notwithstanding their ferocious characters, the two women were enticing. It was the one redeeming quality of this trip.

The stew started to boil, and he moved it off the fire and served it in two bowls with the last of the bread they carried. The sea route would have been faster and safer. Why would they come this way?

The howling in the distance brought him back to the present task.

A gentle cooling breeze started as he walked with the bowls toward the tigresses' den, spreading the delicious aroma throughout the camp.

The howls grew louder. Both horses neighed and snorted. He paused at the entrance and looked toward the horses. A Silohuet darted at the edge of the camp.

The two women rushed out of the tent, knocking him over. The bowls of stew flew, and their content spilled on him.

"Get up! Untie the horses and stoke up the fire," Ana Belén commanded. His eyes were unfocused.

Then she stopped, turned, and threw a dagger at his feet. He looked at it, his brain trying to piece together the events.

"Take that and protect yourself!" The sharp command broke through the fog.

He picked it up and ran. Threw a couple of large branches into the fire.

The sound of a shot rang. A canine yelped! The horses broke the branch and started to run off.

Luisa's sharp whistle stopped them, and another whistle brought them back to the camp closer to the fire.

"Count, lend aid in our reloading straightaway!" Ana Belén shouted.

"Present, Mistress," he answered as he took a pistol from her hand and pulled the bag of prepared paper cartridges from her waist. For the first time, Adrián saw her smile.

They turned into a killing machine. Ana Belén and Luisa would fire while Adrián kept reloading. Minutes later, six corpses surrounded the camp; sensing there was no easy prey here, the rest of the wild dogs left.

"Bank the fire, gather our encampment. We must depart. This shall draw wolves and other predators," Ana Belén commanded.

While he worked, Adrián looked at the women and mused that he much preferred other types of trios, even the musical type.

Fifteen minutes later, they were ready to leave.

"Count, mount behind me," Ana Belén told him, "clasp your arms around my waist and hold fast. If your hands stray—" she pointed to the falchion with her finger and made a chopping motion.

"I could ride with Luisa, Mistress Elara," Adrián offered.

"I would fear for your well-being, Count."

Adrián gulped, but he did as instructed. He wrapped his arms around her waist with the utmost care, and they started to canter away. His pulse quickened.

He sweated profusely. He pushed away, trying to keep the distance between them, but the horse's natural motion made their hips slide forward. No matter how hard he tried, the movement pushed them together.

Against his will, while he implored to the trinity, every virgin and saint he knew to no avail, he felt himself grow.

"Ware your stirring thoughts; you may not like the entertainment, Count," an elbow hit his ribs just hard enough to bruise. Visions of dismemberment paralyzed him.

The Captain's daughter was such a lovely girl.

***

"Your Count seems to have fallen asleep, Mistress," Luisa quipped as she approached Ana Belén, who was sitting by the fire.

The comforting sounds of the nocturnal forest eased their previous tension.

Ana Belén looked up from her tea and smiled, "I'll take the first watch," she said. Luisa nodded.

Ana Belén stood and paced; the warmth of the cup invited her introspection.

They had only traveled about five miles away from their encounter. She didn't want to push the horses. Perhaps we should have chanced a ship. I would be with my aunt by now.

"How much longer are you going to keep up the charade?" Luisa asked, sitting where she had been.

"I'm just pushing to see who he really is. I'll send him on his way at the next town," Ana Belén answered, lost in her thoughts. They needed to find the real Count and get to Alcántara; by now, the pursuit would have started.

She stopped and gave her a knowing smile.

"He's just another lecherous bard. We should cut him loose; he's slowing us down!"

"Mmmm, I thought you fancied a tryst after you saw his prowess," she said suggestively.

"Ha! The man's terrified. I don't think his prowess would function, even if I tried." They both laughed.

Ana Belén sipped her tea. She missed the tea at the palace. Father, why did you have to agree to such a marriage? No matter, with Aunt Leticia, we'll be safe.

She inhaled deeply, taking in the flowery aroma. Her thoughts shifted to the enigma of the sleeping man.

She resumed her pacing.

"Do you feel something, Luisa? It's like I know him or should know him." She shook her head, "perhaps all this traveling is confusing me." It was strange to feel connected to a type of man she hated: weak, flippant, lecherous, all traits she despised.

"I thought you hated Bards!"

"He could be a merchant, like he said," she answered with a smile. Even she didn't believe her words.

Luisa raised an eyebrow and countered, "Merchant, ha! Seems like just another imbecile bard to me."

How did the bard know the phrase? Well, at least she could use him to scout the next town. Something told her she needed caution over speed during this escape.

"You should get some rest, Luisa. I don't think I'll sleep tonight."

***

Far-off laughter woke him. Whether it was real or in his dream, he wasn't sure. He lay still.

The half-forgotten dream circled in his head. He had been playing his lute. That song she hummed. Then eyes. Deep eyes searching for him. Clear, pure notes coursed through him and memories. Another person's memories.

The faint sound of voices brought him to the present. His tormentors were talking. He strained to hear.

Realization slowly dawned on him of what they were saying.

They knew! The demonesses knew!

And they had toyed with him all along. He had to hold himself back from running and screaming.

No! He would bide his time, but revenge he would have for all the suffering of the past few days. The tea might not be as sweet starting tomorrow.

Do you like fireworks?

If not, don't read the next chapter!