"That depends entirely on the kind of stud." Kora winked at him and held the door into the main room open as the innkeeper was about to push through.
"Where's the food for… Skharr." Ansen grunted when he saw him standing in front of him. A quick look confirmed that he already had his food and he nodded. "I would shoo anyone else out of my kitchens but as it stands, Dame Sera is here for you. She's waited nigh on an hour."
Skharr nodded and held the platter with one hand while he tried one of the small chunks of sausage that had been added to it before the roast. His eyes bulged immediately and it felt as though his mouth was on fire. This was nothing like the spices he was generally used to. It was more of a dry heat, made more interesting by the fact that it was unexpected.
"Good spices, yes?" Ansen asked and gestured for him to follow him into the main room. "They arrived this morning. Our patrons have talked about them all day. I thought DeathEaters were used to spices in their food."
He narrowed his eyes at the man. "You said it is how DeathEaters like their food, yes?"
The proprietor nodded. "I might have implied as much."
"For the future, there is more flavor to match the heat. You'll find more success if you add lemon, lime, or orange to blend the spices and mellow the heat."
Ansen grinned at him. "I might consider having you in our kitchens instead."
"You couldn't afford me." Skharr grinned and turned to where Sera sipped a tall mug of something cool and frothy.
Before he could approach, a young man sat on the chair opposite her and the barbarian paused and narrowed his eyes.
"Should I remove him?" the innkeeper asked.
"Soon, perhaps. I have a feeling you might want to watch this."
The man smirked. "Is she as bad as you are?"
"Honestly? I suspect she might be a good deal worse." The warrior placed his platter on the countertop and took another bite of the spiced sausages while he watched and listened for what would come next.
"And how might I help you?" the blademaster asked after a few moments of silence resulted without the new arrival to her table saying a word.
"You might remain precisely where you are and let me watch you," the man replied with a drunken laugh. "I had hoped to find a beautiful woman with whom I could spend the evening, and damned if you didn't arrive early."
Sera tilted her head and sipped her drink. "Truly?"
"Aye."
"And what do you suppose I'm early for?"
"Heavens know, but the gods sent you to me for a reason and I would see their will done for as long as possible. I say we retire to my room so you can inspect my sword."
"Sword, you say?" she asked and tilted her head as she pushed from her seat.
"Yes!" The man almost couldn’t believe what she had said. He stood quickly and needed to lean on his chair to stop himself from falling over.
"But I think you might have to inspect my sword first."
"Wha—"
Before the word could emerge fully from his mouth, Sera already had her weapon in hand. She swung the pommel across his jaw and he stumbled and fell heavily. He held the side of his face as she settled into her seat again, adjusted her clothes, and shifted the blade slightly to make herself more comfortable.
"She is a little more…direct than you tend to be," Ansen conceded. "Straight to the point. I doubt any of the other would-be suitors will attempt to approach her now."
"Those who have their wits about them haven't approached her because of the medallion hanging from her neck," Skharr told him. The innkeeper leaned a little closer and nodded.
"Men are somewhat intimidated by a woman like that." The man did not look proud to admit that fact. "A blademaster might have most thinking twice, I suppose."
"I think I should see to it that she doesn't murder any of those who have been in their cups for too long," He moved to where the hapless suitor regained his feet slowly.
"You'll…you'll regret that, bitch! I'll rip your—"
The barbarian caught him by the collar and drew his attention away from Sera. The drunk squinted at the broad expanse of his chest for a moment before he realized that a man stood in front of him. He looked up and tried to jump away when he realized the size of the warrior who still held his collar in an iron hand.
"All she'll regret is having to clean your blood from her sword if you persist, little one," Skharr answered and walked the man to the door. He made sure to bump him into any tables they passed before he pulled the door open and flung him out.
The drunken fool couldn't be blamed for approaching a beautiful woman while drunk. He had done the same in his time, and more than once too. The only problem arose when Sera decided he had gone past the line of impropriety and he had gone even beyond that when he threatened to rip something out of her.
That had taken it a step too far and a blademaster was more than within her rights to defend herself from that level of abuse.
"It’s good of you to intercede," she noted as he approached her table again. "But I'm sure you know that I needed no help."
Skharr nodded. "My reasons were entirely selfish. I had been given my meal and I had no intention to have it interrupted by a fight breaking out in the common room."
She laughed. "Since when are you averse to starting a fight?"
"Never. Well, except when I'm hungry and there is a feast to be had. If there was pandemonium and someone spilled my food, I would not be responsible for my actions."
"Are you ever?"
"Have I ever avoided responsibility for my actions?"
Sera considered him while she took a long sip of her drink. "I…don't know. I've never paid attention to that kind of thing, which I suppose means you have never avoided responsibility for your actions. I would possibly have noticed otherwise."
The barbarian grinned as the innkeeper brought the platter to the table, as well as a mug of hard apple cider, likely to help with the heat of the food that was served.
"And here I thought you would need to leave me a gold coin to pay for any damages incurred," Ansen noted with a smirk.
"Not this time," Skharr answered. "More is the pity. I was hoping for a little exercise."
"And I'm sure all the diners would take pleasure in watching your fists beat unwilling flesh,” the proprietor responded briskly. “If you need anything else, milady, tell me." He bowed his head respectfully before he backed away.
The barbarian grinned before he turned his attention to Sera.
"There’s no need to look so smug about it." She shook her head and the amusement faded from her features as she cast a worried look across the room.
"Something is wrong." His tone was sharp as he stated the obvious and leaned forward so none of the other patrons could hear him.
"Not here," she whispered.
They both stood and moved out to the front of the Mermaid, which was considerably less crowded than the common room. He had a feeling there were still ears to listen to what they were saying but she would be able to see them a little better when there were fewer folks about.
"Something is gnawing at you, that much is obvious," he muttered and folded his arms. "I was under the impression that the situation with the undercouncil had been resolved."