Melly noticed him the minute he entered the bar. A tall man, at least two inches over six feet, with light brown hair, a plaid kilt, and a broad sword slung across his back in a flexible harness. He stood in the doorway, his muscular shoulders thrown back and head thrust slightly forward, grinning as he appraised the bar’s interior. On impulse, she swung into a rousing Celtic drinking song, urging the tavern’s patrons to join in the bawdy chorus. It seemed to decide him, for he strode into the bar and joined the chorus in a strong, enthusiastic baritone.

She was disappointed that he wasn’t a bass, then mentally shook herself and concentrated on the music. After exhausting the song’s rather lengthy verses, she brought it to a wild conclusion and answered cries of "More!" with pleas of a dry throat. Leaning the lute against the side of the small platform that served as a stage, she made her way to the bar, where a goblet of wine appeared before her. She winked at the one-eyed gnome tending bar as she downed it in one long gulp. He refilled it without comment.

Sensing someone closer than she liked, Melly turned to face the stranger.

"Why would ye be abusin’ fine wine at that rate, missy?" he asked with a smile.

An impish grin crossed her face, and she shook her long, red-gold hair behind her shoulders, her delicately pointed ears revealing her elven heritage.

"I was thirsty," she replied carelessly, finishing the second goblet as well. Again, the gnome refilled it silently. "And Alaskah figures the business I bring in far outweighs the Borellian I drink."

His dark blue eyes widened slightly. "You have expensive taste."

"And an amazing capacity," she agreed blandly. "I’ve put bigger men than you under the table." A shadow crossed her eyes briefly, then disappeared. "But that was a statement, not a challenge, she added briskly. "I’m working tonight, even if it is only for drinks."

"Why here?" he asked curiously, gesturing towards the room full of mercenaries and adventurers.

"Why not?" she answered with an airy gesture, instinctively returning to the old habit or revealing as little as possible. "Swordsmen appreciate good music as much as aristos, even if their taste is less sophisticated. And my music is good."

"Then let’s hear more of it," the gnome, Alaskah, interrupted.

She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and shrugged, but returned to the stage. Rhodry ordered another Scotch, listened to the music, and watched the intriguing songbird.

She was good, no question about that. Her fingers danced over the strings of the old rosewood lute, and her clear, high voice held the power denoting extensive training. Something simply didn’t seem to fit.

It was well after midnight when a group of inebriated young dandies entered the tavern and took a table near the stage. Rhodry’s eyebrow quirked with amusement over their colorful silk and satin attire, complete with plumed hats. He also noted their rapiers and sabers. The redhead played two more songs, then announced a break. This time, however, she put the lute in its case and placed it on a shelf at the back of the platform.

Melly seriously debated quitting for the night rather than merely taking a break. The new arrivals were very drunk, and her keen hearing had caught several ribald suggestions about her "true talents." She shrugged mentally. She could afford repairing the tavern, and it would be interesting to see how her new acquaintance responded to an insult or brawl.

A slender blonde youth rose as she passed the table. Sweeping his plumed hat from his head, he bowed elaborately and asked her to join them.

"Thank you, but no. My companion awaits," she stated calmly, gesturing towards the bar.

The erstwhile gallant cast a disdainful look towards the bar. "I assure you, we could make it much more worth your time," he replied, significantly indicating his heavy purse.

She smiled ironically. "I doubt it, milord. I am paid only for my music, not my companionship. Your offer was made in ignorance, so I take no offense, but I will not be as patient a second time." She smiled sweetly and turned to leave.

The youth placed his hand on her upper arm to detain her. "Perhaps we could discuss using my influence to gain you entree to more prestigious establishments, better settings for your … talent. Or lessons with one of the city’s music masters …" his voice trailed off suggestively, but his fingers tightened and he tugged her towards the table.

Melly’s smile froze, and her eyes became blue diamond. Rhodry heard the gnome mutter "Shit," and the clink of metal behind the bar. In one smooth gesture, Melly grasped the man’s forearm and sent him flying over her shoulder to land flat on his back behind her.

"I think not," she said calmly, joining Rhodry at the bar.

"Neat trick," he commented, handing her a goblet of wine. "How intimate a companion should I appear to be?" he asked with a smile that didn’t reach his frosty blue-grey eyes.

"That was a polite refusal, not an appeal for rescue," she snapped, showing the temper her hair suggested. "Don’t feel obligated, because you’re not."

"No, but you may be," he replied, glancing over her shoulder at the angry young man.

"Excuse me," the young man said stiffly, regaining his feet and moving towards them, "I believe we have some unfinished business -"

"No we don’t. You made an offer, and I refused. I suggest you drop the subject and finish your drink before our host decides to avoid trouble by closing for the night."

"Trouble? Six of us against your kilted friend?" he sneered.

"No, six of you against me."

"And what will you do? Sing a lullaby to put us to sleep?"

Her smile was neither pretty nor pleasant, but she remained calm, speaking in an icy tone. "I don’t want to fight with you. I don’t want to go with you. I don’t even want to talk with you. Surely a courtier such as yourself was taught to respect a lady’s wishes?

"Indeed, and if you would be kind enough to show me a lady, I’d be happy to fulfill any request she made."

Melly’s right hand caught him square in the face, knocking him back a step even as Rhodry surged to his feet. The dandy tried to draw his rapier, but Rhodry tackled him, sending them both flying into a table. From there, the battle was truly engaged. Roddy caught intriguing glimpses of Melly slamming a jeweled dagger into the back of one head, and a chair into someone else’s back as they tried to stop him from breaking their friend’s nose and turning his face into a bloody pulp. He backhanded a final adversary into the bar just in time to see her drop kick another and end the brief altercation.

"I told you I could handle them," she grinned from her landing place on the floor.

"So ye did, missy, so ye did," he replied with a matching grin.

"And the name’s Melly, not missy!" she snapped, raising her right hand to him.

"Rhodry," he answered, drawing her to her feet in a smooth gesture.

She turned to the gnome, who was rising from his vantage point under one of the tables near the bar. "Alaskah, would you like us to dispose of the garbage before we leave?" she asked.

"No, just get your gear and get out. And don’t come back for a long time. Half of the City Council has relatives on the floor, and I don’t want any more trouble. Hell, it’ll take months to pay off the fines and repairs as it is."

She laughed as she pegged a small pouch at him. "Keep the change."

The gnome caught the pouch in one hand and undid the drawstring with the other.

"Too much," he growled as two fat pearls and some blue and green stones dropped into his palm. By this time, she had retrieved her lute and was rummaging behind the bar. Roddy watched in bemusement as she secured an elaborately tooled leather scabbard and a short sword around her waist and grabbed a wine bottle.

"Then take what’s coming to you. It’s only money," she said carelessly.

"And probably not yours anyway," Alaskah commented as he took a blue stone and threw the pouch back. She caught the pouch and was gone before Rhodry could move. By the time he’d reached the door, she had disappeared down the dark street.

The gnome grinned at his surprise. "Some things never change. Melly always could disappear faster than a dwarf drinks mead."

"Do you know where she’s staying?"

"Hell, no. She didn’t volunteer it, and I didn’t ask. She takes care of herself; always has".

A groan from the floor distracted him, and he nodded towards the bodies.

"You’d better do the same. They’re gonna want your ass with ribbons on it, and you’re pretty hard to miss in that getup."

Rhodry dropped a silver piece on the bar and left. As he walked towards the livery stable he alternately scanned the streets for the beautiful redhead and cursed the luck that separated them. Getting to know her better would have been interesting.