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She was sitting at the bar dressed like a hooker.The men he was with noticed her first.“Hey,” said one, “would you get a load of what’s sitting at the bar?”“Holy shit – look at the hooters on that!”Jim had turned and there she was.“Guys, I know that woman. You don’t want to go there. Her husband could take any one of you apart,” Jim said.“Yeah, right.”“Trust me. I’m going over to say hello. I’ll catch up with you later.”Jim walked over to where Tiffany was sitting at the bar and the rest is written elsewhere, so I won’t repeat it here, except to say that Jim was very surprised to find that a bar in a Red Roof actually stocked Plymouth Gin. In fact, this was the only Red Roof he’d ever stayed at that even HAD a bar.At any rate, after an extremely pleasurable time spent with Tiff and her handsome (and well hung) hubby, during which Jim had done a little mental nudging to help make one of Tiffany’s fantasies come true, Jim ended up in his own room more than ready to go to sleep.But. Remembering: her mother braiding her waist-length gold hair, bread baking on the hearth. Her father, showing her how to test the edge of her sword, teaching her to lift and fight, amazed at her strength. The passionate depths of the love her parents gave one another. The visions stung her heart. Her mother’s face flew into her mind, hair streaming as she flew through the air. She was lying face down over the withers of a rough-haired pony. Blood dripped from her mouth. ‘Thespa. East, toward Oria.’ Thespa closed her eyes in silent prayer. Then she threw her foot in the stirrup and mounted. ‘Erod! Follow the Aroth devils!’ The black stallion reared, snorting its eagerness, foam dripping from its mouth. In one swift movement, they were gone. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Penoa was roughly taken from the back of the horse and flung down on the snow. She was up on her feet in an instant, scrambling to get away from her captors. She made it a few feet and then fell, the rope around her.
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