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Whys, wherefores and plumbing depths.

How could he'd not? The girl's shameful lusty grunts and cries had been heard clearly through the up-stairs hall. Soren inwardly fumed that the whore so willingly gave herself to this outlander when she'd threatened to poison him if he ever tried to touch her again, her own dear father and protector, after an incidence of innocent flirtation.

The stranger might take umbrage to seeing the girl mishandled.

While inclined to deny the sell, just out of spite, still the world was full of sluts but silver was another matter.

"Bring me wine," he growled at Ciara. She hurried to obey. He then in-vited Civilicus to sit with him close to the fire.

Soren cast a calculating eye toward Civilicus. "Silver, eh? Well, I couldn't let her go for less than two pieces."

A silver piece was exactly that, one-forth piece of a silver coin. Two pieces of silver was fairly steep for a simple serving-wench. Even half that amount was considered dear.

Civilicus raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I'll give you one silver piece, for the girl and a week's traveling rations for us both. And a pack animal."

The innkeeper burst out laughing in honest amusement. And the haggling began in earnest.

# # #

Ciara stood atop a hard packed snow bank and screamed with unbri-dled joy.

She wore a fur cloak and cowl like Civilicus' own and rawhide trousers tucked into furred boots. She jumped and frolicked through the snowdrifts, laughing with the exuberant total lack of restraint of a child.

"Free," she screamed, then threw back her head and laughed. Her furred cowl fell back over her shoulders and the wind immediately began to blow her hair out over the cloak as she keened out in exhilaration.

In the face of such deeply felt merriment, Civilicus couldn't help but smile.

The day was cold. The snow was an unending white blanket over the world. It whirled in the currents of the wind. The land was white but the Sky was a hard-edged blue and the light of winter's Sun shone down bright.

"Free of Soren, may he die of cockrot. Free of that miserable tavern."

And then she peeled off into another gale of laughter, her voice loud and musical in the crisp air. The shaggy pony which Civilicus had bought to carry their baggage whinnied in response. They'd been walking for a few hours. Both, for their separate reasons, had wanted to get a good many miles away from Soren's Inn before they stopped for a rest. She turned her clear blue eyes to Civilicus. And smiled. "My liberator and new Master. Make love to me. Please."

"What, in the cold?" He chuckled, liking her high color and spirit, glad he had decided to bring her along. "Out here in the snow?"

"Yes," she laughed. "In the snow, against a tree. I don't care. But I want to celebrate. To show my heartfelt gratitude."

Her flashing eyes narrowed as she looked at Civilicus, seeing his dark face framed by the variegated gray fur hood in contrast to the surrounding white snow. She ran to him, throwing her arms about his neck and mashing her lips to his, letting him suck her tongue deep into his mouth. Knocking him backwards into the thick layer of snow covering the ground. It seemed that their joined mouths smoked as they kissed, the vapor of their breaths white in the chilled air, their exhalations jetting steam through their nostrils.

###

Their trousers and underclothes were pulled down around their ankles, as Civilicus positioned himself between the girl's open thighs.

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