Sheriff of Rothing Shire

And so it was that I continued east until I happened upon a small settlement. I hid in a copse close to the road that led into town until a pleasant looking young woman about my own age came along, carrying a rough basket filled with what appeared to be scabby crab apples. The late morning sun cast her short shadow across the dirt and cobbles.

I stowed my sword, bedroll and two goatskins under the late fall’s brown leaves. I wheeled out from behind a tree, perhaps a little too hastily, because she jumped back a step or two, perchance mistaking me for a man. I oft times forget how tall I am for a girl. In addition, my hair still had not grown in and looked, I knew, like it had been trimmed with a couple of rocks.

I at once feigned innocence and ignorance both, asking if the village was awfully far.

She looked me up and down and her sudden ease led me to believe that she assessed from my figure—albeit slender—that I was indeed female. She grinned; taking me for the floundering traveler I was hoping she would. “It’s only just down the road a farlong or two. Can’t miss it, really.” She wasn’t nearly as attractive up close, what with all the missing teeth and small open sores. Looking me over again, she added, “On the run are you? Slavers after you?”

“In a manner.” I rubbed a bug from my cheek. “What is the local authority here about?”

“Sheriff. Sheriff of Rothing Shire. But don’t be counting on that brute for any assistance.”

“And why is that?”

“He’s a corrupt man, as they all are, and taxes us with little mercy. Worse, he exercises the Sheriff’s right of first bedding every spring at the wedding ceremony of his choice. And he’s none too gentle about it. His men—six in all—are ruthless louts who stink of wine and rotten meat and would...

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...y’s ankle with a swift and graceful sweep. I was at the father with my stick and clubbed him across the temple, rendering him unconscious and spilling from his horse.

I gathered the throbbing stallion and led him to the man. The sheriff’s mob was within earshot. And then it happened. I started to become visible. The man, now again on the stallion, looked at the mare, then at the nascent me, his mouth agape.

I looked down at my own shimmering and naked body. The sheriff’s men were nearly upon us now, closing fast.

“Ride, man,” I shouted.

I turned the mare and rode like I had never ridden before. She was a magical mount. I looked over my shoulder to see the beautiful man riding off in the other direction, into the river, to lose their trail.

And then they were in pursuit of me. Just as I had hoped they would. Just as I had planned.

And now I will lead them all to hell.