Laoise’s patience had nearly run out by the time Miriana emerged with Adrian in tow.  When she laid eyes on the man she felt a sense of disappointment and shame. The slender figure with his swollen face and bound hands was a far cry from the monster that had sent her fleeing into the night. She wondered for a moment if it might even be a trick until she met the man’s cool gaze. That night she hadn’t been able to see the man’s eyes but she knew the expression of a predator and even now, with all the advantage on her side, the man regarded her as prey. 

“Don’t look like much with your toys and armor stripped away,” she said, her blood boiling at how vulnerable she still felt. 

“And you look about the same,” Adrian said in a hollow tone.

Laoise ground her teeth somehow finding the resolve to not to strike the man down right then and there. Meanwhile Adrian seemed relatively unbothered by the lioness’s piercing gaze. His own eyes moved absently over the woman and her comrades before coming to rest on the pistol shoved into her belt. 

“That’s Seron Salvaty’s work isn’t it?” he asked after inspecting it for a moment. 

The woman sneered and slid the tips of her fingers over the ornate carved grip. “That it is. I’m told he’s the finest powder smith in the empire,” she said, tracing the engraving in the handle.

“His work certainly suits you,” Adrian said.“Salvaty was always form above function, pretty on the outside but built like shit on the inside.”

Laoise's hand suddenly tightened around the handle of the pistol. The gathered crowd tensed then relaxed as the lioness thought better of the action and left the weapon secured. 

“We’ll see how dangerous it is soon enough,” she said as calmly as she was able, her attention turning back to the dragoness. “The woman and the gold, present them, now.” 

“We have no intention of denying you your comrade,” Megra answered. “The girl was injured in the fray and we are taking care to make sure she is not further damaged before her return. As for the payment we don’t have those kinds of funds on hand. We could maybe scrape together a portion but we would need to negotiate terms of our girls' release.”

“This isn’t a negotiation you cunt peddling bitch,” Laoise hissed under her breath before taking a moment to collect herself and contemplate. “Alright,” she said after a long tense moment. “You can start scraping. We’ll return in two days to collect. In the meantime we’ll be taking our girl, this sod and anything you collected from him.” 

While Laoise would have taken great satisfaction in razing the place it seemed a better play to avoid further conflict, at least for the moment. The appearance of the gunman showed they weren’t as far ahead of the bounty as they had thought and burning the brothel would only draw more attention. As it was they were stuck, at least until their passage across the Plains sea was assured and that would only happen if they could pay that fat prick Carvel. To that end Laoise determined it was best to give the madam and her whores time to try and raise what funds they could. With that skinny thing back at camp as leverage it was doubtful they would cause much trouble.

Megra for her part was relieved for the ultimatum. While it would have been ideal to work out Ressa’s return then and there the fact they were given time to think and regroup was welcomed.

Miriana however disagreed and expressed her displeasure loudly, “We’re just going to let this bitch come in here and run over us?” She shouted pushing her way to the front of the porch. “When have we ever run scared? That man came in here and defiled the inn, took one of our own and disrespected our home. No you’re gonna let his little pet come and piss all over the rug.”

“I’m not anyone's pet and I won’t take that insult from some two bit whore,” Laoise said.

If Megra had been human the color would have drained from her face as Miriana set her sights on the woman and shoved her way through the crowd, ducking Boran’s attempt to restrain her only stopping when Adrian stepped in front to block her path. 

“I am no two bit anything,” she shouted her focus so on Laoise she seemed to not even notice the gunman. “I am Miriana Shorebrooke, only child of Merin Shorebrook, duke of the stoneway and general of the eastern arm. I fought alongside him as captain and earned my name through battle and blood. You meanwhile stole the name of a dead traitor and dare to call yourself a warrior.”

As she finished Boran finally reached her to pull her back while a couple of the mercenaries guided Adrian back toward the stairs. Neither of them noticed when the gunman slipped one of their daggers from their belt.

“I use no one's name but my own,” Laoise said coldly trying to mask the rage that burned inside her. “As for yours I have heard it before. You were a fine captain and soldier though far from a dutiful daughter. Running off rather than face marriage and the reality you would never be his heir.” Miriana was surprisingly struck by the words and relaxed a bit allowing Boran to guide her back onto the porch. 

“I can understand the feeling of that betrayal, however, I could never abide such cowardice in myself,” As she spoke Laoise reached up to take hold of her high collar pulling it down to reveal a thick gray scar that wrapped around her neck just below her chin. “

At the sight Miriana’s cursing and resistance ceased entirely, her expression dropping as her skepticism was shattered.

“Now, I’ve indulged you all long enough, if you won’t produce the girl or the weapons we will retrieve them ourselves.” The last part was spoken from behind the helm as the lioness stepped forward her devoted soldiers drawing their swords as they moved. 

“Wait wait!” Megra shouted looking back to the door, a wave of relief washing over her to see the injured woman being escorted out.

“She’s right here,” Megra shouted, ushering the woman to the front. The injured woman hobbled carefully down the stairs, her remaining eye looking at Laoise with both relief and fear. 

Laoise regarded the woman for a moment before speaking, “This won’t do. We will need a replacement,” she said, ignoring the woman as she began to plead and beg. In her desperation she tried to run and ended up collapsing into the dirt. Her wound tore open and her bandages began to seep red as she crawled toward the golden woman.

“What do you mean by replacement? You asked for your companion, there she is, wounds bound and well cared for,” Megra said, her voice becoming indignant.

“This thing is useless to us now, unable to keep up or earn its keep,” Laoise countered. “Missing that eye it can’t earn a decent wage off its back. It’s not even fit to warn the beds of our men.”

“No Laoise” the woman cried.  “Please, I can keep up! I can earn my keep once I’m healed. I can please the men, wash your clothes, your feet, anything you desire please don’t forsake me!” 

The woman continued to drag herself through the dirt, a streak of red trailing behind her until Cas could no longer stand to watch. Hopping over the railing they rushed to the woman. Kneeling down they took her arm and spoke softly to try and comfort her. The woman continued to plead and weep even as several hands joined to carry her back to the inn.

Megra watched the scene with disgust as the pitiful thing was carried past.

“How can you so easily discard one of your own?” She hissed her eyes beginning to burn. “I could expect this cruelty from your master but not from one chained woman to another.”

“I would not accept the burden of a lame horse and I won’t accept the burden of a disfigured whore,” Laoise spat back her face red with rage behind her helm. “And I have no master.” 

 Megra’s own rage was now at a boiling point “Just because a dog bites a stranger doesn’t mean it cowers any less to its master,” the Zmeu responded. “Unlike you our people are not expendable and you will not be taking any more from us tonight.”

Laoise and her men had readied their swords before Megra finished the sentence. They approached in a loose formation each step confident and unwavering, as the defenders gathered on the deck forced Megra to the back and drew their own weapons. In the windows above crossbows were made ready and a call was given to prepare for battle. The time for diplomacy had passed. All that was left now was force of violence and from the crowd a lumbering figure stepped forward to meet it