The Red Hair Should Have Been a Warning
A light snow began falling as they brought me on board, bloody and beaten. Trussed with a gross piece of fish netting like a wild beast, I was beyond help. They had taken my weapons, but in my present state, the rifle and shield wouldn’t do me any good; any more than complaining would.
The delicious aroma of fried frog legs coming from the galley was an overwhelming test of my willpower, but I wasn’t sure they would feed me—the captain was a cruel vixen. I was lucky she even let me live.
We'd met in the tavern last night, and had quickly become lovers. This morning however, things had gotten awkward.
I tried to explain we were from different worlds, but that only touched off the powder-keg of her temper, and she’d called for her guards.
Maybe she will keep me as slave…
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