"Is it that obvious?"
"When anyone comes into the Cutter's Dip and doesn't belly up to the bar first thing, they've got questions." His pipe switched sides again and smoke drifted out of his mouth with his words. "But you're lucky. I've got nothing to hide, especially from a woman as lovely as you." His eyes began to wander downward again. "Ask away, daughter, ask away."
Feena ground her teeth and crossed her arms over her bosom. The old man puffed smoke in disappointment. Feena drove straight to the point.
"The walkway behind this placeit looks over a courtyard," she said. "I'm trying to find someone who might have seen anything happen there five nights ago."
The man's pipe drooped in his teeth, then snapped up as he clenched his jaw. His fingers made a sign against evil.
"Beshaba's ivory arms," he hissed. "Are you mad? It was a werewolftore a man to bits down there."
"I've heard that," Feena said. "I'm looking for more information. If anyone was back there and looked down or if anyone in here heard anything, I'd like to know."
"Listen for yourself, girl! You can't hear from one side of this place to the other!" The old man reached for a mug of ale with a trembling hand. "I was in here that night. Sat right here while a man was slaughtered not sixty feet away. If I'd gone out to have a splash at the wrong time, that could have been me down there!" He gulped from his mug.
"Here, Noyle, what's wrong?"
The barkeep leaned over sharply. Other patrons standing by the bar turned to look as well. Before she knew it, the old man had become the center of attention, and Feena along with him.
"The wolf of the Stiltways," Noyle moaned. He glared at Feena. "I don't know what a woman like you would be doing looking for a beast like that, daughter, but let me tell youI've a friend and his grandson's wife saw the monster prowling that night." He slammed his mug down. "Aye, she chanced to be awake and look down from her window as it stalked out of the Stiltways, its fur slick and red with blood by the full moon's light, and in its claws" he stuck out his hand, his fingers curled up" it carried the heart of its victim!"
Feena swallowed. The Sharran's flask, of course, and her own russet fur, altered by the sleepless woman's tales She ran her tongue around her lips.
"Actually, the full moon was a tenday ago," she said awkwardly.
All eyes turned to her. Noyle shook his curled fingers under her nose.
"Have some respect for a murdered man, girl!" he said. "By the twin gauntlets of Torm and Helm, I hope that when they catch that monster they stretch its skin over Yhaunn's gates and sink its bloody corpse in the harbor!"
"Here, here!" cheered the spectators around the bar.
A shudder of discomfort ran down Feena's back. As the spectators raised their mugs and drank, she slipped away.
Or tried to. Her back bumped up against a man's firm chest.
"Well, would you look at this, Drik! It's our feisty missus from the other night!" Hands spun her around and Feena found herself staring into Stag's leering face. He bared his teeth in a nasty smile. "Well met, red bird! Going to show us your legs again?"
Feena clenched her jaw, hissed, "With pleasure!" and jabbed her knee up at Stag's groin.
The bandit twisted deftly out of the way.
"Not this time, red bird," he said. "Not so easy to surprise us when we know you've got fight in you."
He shoved her back hard and another pair of hands clutched at herDrik. She slapped at him, but he ducked. Her blow clipped another man across the back of the head.
"Hey!" the bystander snapped, and spun around to glare at her.
"Your pardon, sir," Feena gasped quickly in her most polite high priestess voice.
She tried to duck around the man, but Drik was already there, boxing her in.
"Not going to leave so soon, are you?" he asked.
There was movement behind her as Stag closed again. Feena flung an elbow at him, but once again he just stepped out of the way and she was forced pull back or hit someone else. In the moment that she hesitated, Stag popped up inside her reach. He grabbed her arm and twisted it, bringing her into a close, painful embrace. She snapped at him but he only leaned away and laughed. She tried to wrench free, but his grip was too strong.
"Let me go," Feena spat, "or I'll scream so loud everyone in this bar will hear me!"
"Sing your lungs out, missus," Stag said with a nasty grin. "This isn't a country clearing." He nudged the man Feena had accidentally slapped. "Is it, Kor?"
The man turned and glared again. "Some of us are drinking, Stag," he growled, then looked away as if utterly unconcerned with Feena's captivity. Her eyes widened.
"See, red bird," cooed Stag, "this's our own pretty little clearing right here. No one's going to bother us."
He started to tug her toward the back of the bar, and Drik stepped forward to take her other side.
As the second bandit closed, Feena reared back against Stag and kicked out at Drik with both feet. The blow connected, and Drik stumbled into Kor, who roared in frustration. When he whirled around, beer dripped from his face. He cuffed Drik hard with a meaty fist. Startled, Stag relaxed his hold on Feena. She twisted half free of him and leaned toward the corner of the bar.
"Noyle!" she shouted. "Noyle!"
The old man looked up from his story. His eyebrows rose. Other people swung around as well, just as Stag grabbed for her again, trying to pull her back into his grasp. Drik was rising, too, an ugly look of rage burning on his face. He grabbed her free arm and used it as leverage to drive a punch against her chin. Feena's head snapped back.
"Torm and Helm!" Noyle gasped.
Through a brief wash of bright pain, Feena saw him start up from his chair and turn to face Stag. She started to pull herself away from the bandit
"She's the one who beat you down?" asked Noyle.
Feena froze. Stag's hand tightened on her right arm.
"She's the one," the bandit said. "Fights like a demon and twice as dirty."
"Stag and me were lucky to get away," Drik chimed in, seizing her left arm. "She charmed us like fools with her country girl act, then turned on us faster than you could pick a pocket. That's probably what she had in mind for you too, Noyle."
The old man flinched back. Drik twisted Feena's arm painfully.
She gasped and growled but Stag jabbed her hard under the ribs before she could say anything. The blow left her struggling to suck air into her lungs and would have doubled her over if the two bandits hadn't been holding her up.
"Got to be careful of her," Stag said. "She's got some kind of magic, too."
Noyle pulled away in alarm and said, "She's probably some kind of wild hedge mage." He spat on the floor in her direction. "Beshaba's arms hold you, bitch!"
Feena managed to get her breath back.
Moonmaiden's grace, Feena, she cursed, you picked a fine tavern to start poking around in, didn't you?
She fought back the rising fear that surged in her belly. Selune's magic wasn't going to help her. Drik and Stag would stop her at the first sign of a spell. Anywhere else, she might even have considered changing shapeher hybrid form was strong and fierce enough to take on four men or morebut in this place? If she revealed herself as a werewolf, she'd be facing an angry mob.
Stag and Drik couldn't have the entire tavern on their side, could they? Bright Lady of the Night favor me, she prayed.
She twisted around as best she could and screamed over her shoulder, "Help me! Somebody help me!"
A few people looked up, startled, but friends held them back. Others glanced at her, then laughed.
"Now, didn't I say no one would bother us, red bird?" sneered Stag. "You know, there's a reason people are afraid to come down here after dark." He grinned at his partner. "Hey Drik, let's show missus how alone she really is!"