And so it was that I continued east until I came across a small settlement. I hid in a grove near the road into town until a pleasant-looking young woman, about my age, came along, carrying a crude basket full of what looked like crab apples. The late morning sun cast its brief shadow on the dirt and cobblestones. I hid my sword, sleeping bag, and two goat skins under the brown leaves of late autumn. I moved away from behind a tree, perhaps a little too hastily, because she took a step or two back, perhaps mistaking me for a man. I often forget how tall I am for a girl. Plus, my hair hadn't grown out yet and looked, I knew, like it had been cut with a couple of stones. I immediately feigned innocence and ignorance at the same time, asking her if the village was terribly far away. She looked me up and down, and her sudden ease led me to believe that she judged from my figure, though slender, that I was indeed a woman. She smiled; taking me for the traveler in difficulty who I hoped would. “There's only a couple of cases left down the road. Can't miss it, really." Up close he wasn't nearly as attractive, with all his missing teeth and little gaping wounds. Looking at me again, he added, “Are you on the run? Slavers behind you?” "In a way." I picked a bug off my cheek. “What does the local authority do here?” "Sheriff. Sheriff of Rothing Shire. But don't count on that brute for assistance." "And why?" «He is a corrupt man, as everyone is, and he taxes us with little mercy. What's worse, he exercises the Sheriff's right to have the first bedding each spring at the wedding ceremony of his choosing. And he's not nice about it at all. His men, six in all, are ruthless louts who reek of wine and rotten meat and who... middle of paper... would hit your ankle in one swift and graceful motion. I went to the father with my stick and hit him on the temple, causing him to lose consciousness and fall from his horse. I picked up 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 back on the stallion, looked at the mare, then at the nascent me, his mouth open. I looked down at my naked, glistening body. The sheriff's deputies were almost upon us now, closing in quickly. “Ride, man,” I shouted. I turned the mare and rode like I had never ridden before. It was a magical mount. I looked behind me and saw the handsome man walking away in the opposite direction, into the river, to lose their trail. And then they chased me. Just as I had hoped they would. Just as I predicted. And now I will lead them all to hell.