Blood Bounty: Chapter 1

  Flame crackled warm and inviting in the Luna Tavern’s fireplace.  The tables were crowded with food and drink as the lively patrons enjoyed the inn’s famous entertainment.  Juggling acrobats were on stage at the moment, twisting and flipping to the uproarious approval of all the tavern guests, too well-amused and jolly to notice that the beer was watered down and the food was bland.  One juggler did a back flip and caught a sword at the same time, causing the audience to boom with applause.
  As the jugglers took their exiting bows and rolled back into the wings of the stage, the audience anxiously awaited the next entertainment.  When the small acting troupe stepped onto the stage, the crowd gave a delighted cheer as they read the sign brought in by two scantily clad young women.  “Grosser Bär Spielst,” letting the patrons know they were about to be shown a play of “Big Bear,” the locally legendary bounty hunter.  As the two young women giggled coyly on stage, they were surprised by a dark figure in a ratty cloak, sending them running around in hysterics.  Then, a big burly character wearing an obviously fake beard stepped into the audience’s view causing a wild applause to erupt as the big actor snatched up the sneaky one by the neck and dragging him offstage.  The young actresses swooned and followed close behind.
  The small play continued on with the audience becoming increasingly enraptured with the scenes so that almost no one noticed the tavern door opening or the two figures that walked in, heavily cloaked against the night’s cold air.  Both moved behind the distracted crowd toward the bar, where the tavern’s owner stood counting his money.  The markedly shorter figure stepped close to the bar and slapped down a few more pieces of gold and whispered so that only the owner heard.
  “Grosser Bär.  Wo ist er?”
  The man looked at the gold coins then the figure’s face and gave a nod.  In a thick accent he replied “Upstairs, last room on left.”
  The figure nodded and motioned for the other to follow.  Their boots clomped heavy up the stairs, barely heard by the entertainment-zealous crowd below.  All the doors were shut, assumingly their occupants downstairs at the festivities, except the destination of the two newcomers.  The door at the very end of the long hall was slightly open, letting a shaft of flickering light strike the dusty worn rug on the floor outside it.  As they approached, the leading shorter figure could hear a small coy female voice giggling inside.
  “My my dear Bear, you are very strong,” the girl teased.  “But perhaps your beard could use a good combing.”
  The lead figure gently pushed the door open, revealing a young blonde girl sitting in the lap of a strong looking, gruff man.  Both looked up in surprise even as the figure pulled back her hood to reveal a mass of free flowing brown hair.  She then leaned against the door frame and laughed hard.  “Sweetheart, dear Bear could use a good bath, I’m sure.”
  “Ursa! You sneaky little witch.”  The man jumped out of his seat with an amused growl, barely giving the blonde enough time to get out of the way.  Then he stocked over and grabbed the brunette up in a huge embrace, picking her up off the floor.  At this the little blonde gave a huff and flipped out of the room, brushing past the other cloaked figure that had entered the room.
  When Bear finally put Ursa down, he grabbed her hips with a sly grin.  “I ought to take you over my knee for this.”
  “Promises promises, meine Grosser Bär,” she returned, twisting out of his grasp.  “Besides, I’m here on business, not pleasure.”
  As Bear tried to hide his disappointment he noticed the other person standing in the room.  With a suspicious glare, he asked “Who is this with you? You haven’t gone off and gotten married, have you Ursa?”
  “Heavens no Bear,” she chuckled, walking over to the other figure.  “No husband of mine would have let you touch me that way.”
  Bear was about to speak when Ursa grabbed the cloak and ripped it off the figure.  A tall, imposing man, turbaned and scowling, looked silently down at Bear as Ursa grinned.
  “A Sikh?” Bear said wide-eyed, then chuckled.  “Where the hell did you get one of these?”
  “The Royal Embassy sends all its liaisons with them these days,” Ursa gloated and gently tapped the Sikh’s chest.  “They are not ones to be trifled with.”
  “Royal liaison,” this time Bear was slower to recover.  “What would the royals want with an unseemly, brute of a woman like you?”
    “To deal with unseemly, brutish men like you,” she retorted with mock indignation.  She stepped closer to him and ran her fingers over his beard with a smirk.  “A few things have changed since last we parted company, dearest Bear.  But as you can see, my mysterious ways remain entirely intact.”
  Ursa backed away and slipped off her cloak, revealing retailored men’s clothing to fit her form and light padded leather.  Turning to hand the cloak to the Sikh, she ushered the tall man outside the door.  Suddenly Bear’s arms were around her waist, holding her close from behind and whispering against her neck.
  “There is a bed here big enough for both of us,” he chuckled warmly across her skin.
  “Well, you can sleep in it alone after I drink you under the table,” she replied coolly, stepping away from his embrace.
  Blowing a coy little kiss over her shoulder at Bear, she walked out of the room back down toward the tavern area.  He shook his head in disbelief with a chagrined expression.  “Mysterious ways aren’t the only things that haven’t changed.”

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  The Sikh stood cross-armed and protective beside the table where Ursa and Bear sat.  His eyes scanned the crowded place for any danger as the acting troupe continued their play of Bear’s exploits.  Ursa snickered as she turned to watch the burly actor save yet another helpless damsel.
  “At least they have your penchant for beautiful women right,” she smiled at him, taking another drink of the owner’s special stock.
  “No, if they had that right, you’d be in half of them my sweet,” Bear replied with a smirk, taking a bite of his food.
  Ursa decided to ignore the compliment as she turned to watch the stage again.  She laughed in sheer disbelief at the play.  “Do they even realize that you were paid to catch the fiend, not to save the girl?”
  “It’s a convenient oversight in such tales, I must say,” he chuckled before he felt Ursa’s foot slide gently up the inside of his lower leg, the way he remembered from years past.  A shiver went up his spine when she turned her face back to him, smiling gently and starting to eat again.
  “So,” Bear coughed, trying to hide his thoughts as he took another sip of beer.  “What kind of business has brought you back to me, Ursa?”
  “One of Her Majesty’s Intelligencers has requested your presence at the Embassy, because of our history, I was chosen to retrieve you,” she answered with a raised eyebrow.  “Aside from that, I know nothing.”
  “I see,” he nodded thoughtfully.  “And what if I refuse to go?”
  “I have been instructed to use any means necessary to ensure your arrival,” Ursa replied smoothly as she took another swig of beer.
  A sly grin crossed Bear’s face as he watched Ursa drink, her eyes glittering with playfulness.  “Anything?”
  “As I said,” she responded quite stiffly.  “If it will get you to the Embassy, I’ll do it.  But for that reason alone.”
  Bear’s smile faded into a scowl as he sighed.  “You’ve always had a way of making me feel like a cad for wanting you so.”
  Ursa stood then and slide backwards onto the bench beside him.  Her fingers traced his beard as she said “Will you come with me? You know British gold is always good, my love.”
  “Say it again,” he asked, taking her fingers in his hand with a grin.
  “What? About the gold?” she replied confused.
  His grin turned sheepish as he answered.  “No, about your love.”
  She shook her head with a slight laugh, blushing badly. “Will you come with me or not?”
  “If you ask it of me,” Bear sighed heavily.  “Then I will go.”
  With a small grin, Ursa brushed her fingers gently across Bear’s cheek like she had done so often in the past.  And like those many times before she leaned in and kissed him sweetly on the lips.  His hand came up to her neck, taking her chin between his finger and thumb to force her mouth open just a bit, letting his tongue slide in to taste what he had missed for so long.
  Suddenly, a loud animal howl sounded over the merriment of the tavern patrons, making the whole inn fall deathly silent.  Ursa pulled away from Bear to look at the crowd’s shocked faces.  Her own face turned sour as she looked back at Bear.  “Wolves.  Such beautiful creatures, yet they always play such havoc on a good night’s sleep.”
  “Wolves are never merely wolves in these parts, my dear,” Bear whispered gruffly in her ear.  “Since we will not be sharing a bed this evening, you would do best to keep one eye open.  There is a reason why the tavern hall is so crowded tonight.”
  “And why is that,” Ursa asked as the tavern maid brought a room key over.
  “The moon is full,” Bear replied nonchalantly, putting a piece of silver in the maid’s hand for her troubles.  “And as you should well remember, the Forest is teeming with all sorts of things that thrive in fullmoon light.”
  He could almost see the chill go up Ursa’s spine as he started to hand over the key.  Once her hand was on it, he grabbed both her hands between his palms and gave her a stern look.  “If you become frightened, you only need to knock on my door…”
  “Darkness and creatures don’t frighten me, miene grosser bär,” she whispered raising her chin.  “You, on the other hand, are a different story entirely.”
  Bear looked away, letting go of her hands so that she could take the room key.  Standing, Ursa gave him a small kiss on the cheek and a reassuring pat on the shoulder.  “Good night, old friend.  We’ll leave tomorrow after breakfast.”
  With that, she was gone toward the stairs and to her room with the Sikh not too far behind her.

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  That night as Bear laid in bed, he heard the door creak open.  At first, he dared to hope that Ursa had taken him up on his offer.  He imagined for a second that she was there at the foot of the bed, barely clothed, dark hair flowing over every curve as beautiful as he remembered.  But the stench of blood and sweat filled the air in the room and he heard a low growl as padded feet and claws moved toward his bed.
  He slowly pulled the dagger from beneath his pillow.  A second later, the deadly blade was lodged deep into the throat of the wolf-creature that had entered his room.  Bear got up quickly and removed the bait that had been hanging from his doorway and quickly locked the bolt.  Making sure the beast on his floor was truly dead, he bundled it up in some canvas.  It gave him a bit of trouble, being heavier than he had expected and the stench of its last breaths were gruesome.
  “Sometimes these villagers don’t pay me enough,” he grumbled as he finally got the dead thing tied up and out of the way.
  When he finally got back to bed he drifted off hoping that his door would crack open again, only this time Ursa would be bringing in little more than her own skin.