Bela's Demise

Saebra extracts herself from Mikael's arm, pulling out a chair for him waving her hand to it with a flourish. Mikael, his warm chuckle makes her heart flutter, takes the proffered seat.

"Now, Mikael. What dost thee wish for?" Saebra asks, standing behind his chair, leaning slightly forward. Her hair tickles the side of his face when turns his head to face her and has a wonderful view of her breasts as their fullness strains her black, laced-up bodice. Quickly turning away, he brings up a hand to cover his mouth as he racked with a fit of coughing, his face reddening with the force.

Straightening up suddenly, the young woman begins to pound him on the back, fearing for his well being. Mikael holds up a hand to get her to stop, shaking his head vigorously, trying to speak. The room goes quiet as all eyes turn to the rucus two young people are making.

Bela is looking on with a scowl that vaguely gives him the appearance of a bulldog. The pompous lord had been watching them from the moment he saw them bing introduced by Shane. He stands up so quickly that the violent motions causes his chair to fall over with a clatter. He stomps across the room, shoving furniture and people alike out of his way, his bulk almost making the floor shake with his passage.

Bela's face twists with a profound rage as he comes up behind the unsuspecting Saebra. Reaching out a fat, greasy hand his sausage like fingers entwine into her thick hair close to her scalp and yanks her back with a mighty force. The young woman screams out with pain and surprise, her hands reaching back to grapple with the unknown hand, attempting to free herself from its grasp. Her feet scrabble on the wood of the oaken floor to maintain her balance, her hip striking the corner of a table, upsetting tankards of ale. The contents spill out onto the table and its occupants, who jump up and away from the fray, their eyes widening with surprise or fear.

Bela swings Saebra by her hair over the now abandoned table, placing his free hand in the middle of her back to shove her face down on the surface. Her chin hits the table with such intense force that it produces flashes of light behind her eyes. Blood trickles out of the corner of her mouth and onto the table in a thin string. Bela's weight crushing her breasts painfully into the table top.

In one sweep of his massive arm, Bela clears the table of the remaining articles that clatter loudly to the floor of the now silent room. All eyes are riveted on the enraged Bela and helpless Saebra, none daring to make a move to aid the woman.

Bela reaches down to grasp the hem of her dress and petticoat, pulling it up and over her back. For such a fat man, he moves quickly when he rips away her undergarment. Saebra's firm, white buttocks are now exposed to his piggish eyes, lust filming them over and he growls with a sickening glee. The object of his attention comes into view as the captive woman struggles. He fumbles with his sash, undoing it, letting it unwind to the floor of its own accord.

He gets no further, for he is now the unsuspecting one when a hand reaches around grabbing him by his throat. Bela releases his grip on the struggling Saebra to grapple with strangling hold on him. Long strands of Saebra's red hair remain wrapped around his pudgy fingers. He is whirled around to face his attacker, the sash wrapping around his legs when he is raised up into the air, leaving his feet dangling.

Bela finds himself looking into the hazel eyes of Mikael, eyes that suddenly turn a fiery crimson above an evil smile curling his tightly drawn lips. Bela's face turns to a mask of fear upon seeing the change in Mikael's eyes, but he is the only one to see the transformation.

"Thee wilst ne'er touch a woman like that again, my fine, fat friend," Mikael calmly says to the fear-ridden Bela.

Effortlessly, Mikael throws the fat tyrant across the room into the cask of beer. The cask shatters from the explosive impact, beer spewing all over like a tidal wave, soaking everything near at hand. Patrons scatter out of the way, some fleeing up the stairs to their room, while others escape the inn completely in a mad rush for the door.

Sheriff Tullock rushes over to Saebra, helping her, with embarassment showing plainly on his face, pulling her dress back down to cover her exposed flesh. Blood was smeared on her chin from a small gash and more was coming from her mouth where her teeth had cut her lip. Ben steadys her in a protective arm hold while she regains her wits.

A scream pierces the air from Deliah, the other serving wench of the inn, horror freezing her face as she beholds a gruesome sight. Ben and Saebra turn as one to see what has caused her scream.

Bela is struggling to sit up, the spigot from the cask protruding from his chest. Blood and small shards of ribs run down to mix with the pool of beer. His face is pale, the eyes staring in disbelief at nothing in particular, before slumps over and goes still.

"By all that is holy!" hisses Ben. He turns and looks at Mikael who is still standing where he was, smiling with satisfaction at the defunct Bela. "Man! What hath ye done?"

Mikael turns his head to Ben, his eyes once again their blue-green color, but his smile has disappeared. "I hath done what none of ye cowards wouldst have done. Thee saw it. That fat bastard attacked Saebra with intent to rape her. That I couldst naught allow," he says with an unnerving calm in his voice.

Sheriff Tullock was up-righted a chair for Saebra to sit upon, helping her gently down into it. Mikael joins them, kneeling before her, heedless of the beer soaking into the oaken floor, taking her left hand into both his own.

"Saebra, art thee all right?" he asks the shaken woman with deep concern etched on his handsome face.

She can only nod as she looks past him to see Shane placing an old tablecloth over the body of Bela. The cloth tinges red and gold from the blood and beer.

"That pig wilst ne'er bother thee again. And," he says out loudly and looks around at the remaining folk, "none wilst e'er bother thee as long as I am about."

Saebra turns her eyes to the man onhis knees before her. This man must be insane, she thinks to herself, still trembling from the assault. Why would any man fight for her? Her question will be answered in the nights to come.