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From: "Elf M. Sternberg" <elf@drizzle.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Bloody Beth, Chapter 3 (FF)
Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2003 20:10:05 -0400
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                         Bloody Beth, Chapter 3

Beth looked over at Spike, who said nothing but grinned insanely.
"You're sure about this?"

"As sure as I am about anything, Captain," Spike said. The house was
as fine as one could see anywhere on Jamaica-- the outer walls
whitewashed, three floors tall, with a roof clean enough than one
could eat a meal off it. Which, Beth understood, was the point, as
clean roofs were the only way to collect clean water. Few put so much
effort into maintaining their house in such order. Somehow, this was
not what she had expected when she'd asked Spike to take her to the
finest bordello on the island.

She was ashamed to admit that she'd expected less.

She used the knocker twice, hoping to hit the correct balance between
request and demand.

A woman opened the door, an attractive European with the sort of blond
hair found only in the Netherlands and eyes as blue as a quiet sea
over white sand. She glanced at Spike, and then back at Beth. "Can I
help you?" she asked, her accent confirming her heritage.

"I... I understand what your business is, and I'd..." Beth tried to
find words for what she wanted, but they failed her.

The woman gave Beth an almost pitying smile and said, "We have
recently acquired more than we really need, and-- are you sure you
would want to get into this line of work?"

Beth blinked. It had never occurred to her that they might think she
was looking for hire. She laughed aloud, taking the other woman aback.
"No, I mean, I'm here as a, a customer."

It was the blond woman's turn to be taken aback. "You're not from the
town," she mused as she gestured for them both to come inside. She
closed the door behind them. She looked them up and down, her eyes
lighting on Spike's clothing and Beth's twin pistols. "You have been
here before," she said to Spike before giving Beth another look. "Wait
a moment. I know you. You're Bloody Beth."

Beth sighed inwardly. She hated the moniker storytellers had hung
about her neck like a millstone, a nickname that she hardly warranted.
She had rarely killed anyone herself; the men who drowned after their
ships had been shot out from underneath their feet were not just her
doing. She decided to deal with it as she always did. "Do you have a
problem with privateers?"

"No, not at all. I'm Lofn." The woman gave an almost imperceptible
bow.

"Beth, then. And you know Spike."

"Not by name," Lofn said. "But I take it he has a favorite."

Spike nodded, the gaps in his teeth clearly visible in his
open-mouthed grin. "I'm especially fond o' Melina. Is she about?"

"I'm sure she can be made available for the usual price." She turned
to Beth. "I'll have you know that my house is the cleanest on the isle
and we like to keep it that way. At night, the nobles, governor's men,
merchants, and the few privateers who've made their booty mingle here
without concern for their safety. Even with the price on your head,
you could spend the night without fear, Beth. I would hope. See to it
that you honor my establishment with respect to other visitors." Beth
nodded. Lofn continued, "I take it that it is your sex and your...
interest that have sent you here in the heat of the afternoon?"

Beth nodded, shame creeping into her warming cheeks. "It is something
I'm new at, but not in my, my... not in my dreams."

"I see," Lofn said. "Well, I'll tell you this: you aren't the first or
the last invert that I'll ever see here."

Her use of the word 'invert' sent a chill down Beth's spine. She was
no invert! She was just... curious.

Lofn continued, "We have two ladies from town who would much rather
spend their afternoons with us than with their husbands or any of the
fine young men that they have available to them. Their husbands have
no suspicions. Oh, they don't come here; we send one or two of our
girls to their plantations as friends. Someone might hear, but it's
just the giggling of feminine company, not a thing of which to be
suspicious, right?"

"In any event, I have just the thing for you. I assume you can pay?"
Beth showed some coins and Lofn nodded. "That is more than enough."
She reached into a bag she wore over her shoulder and pulled out a
small bell. Within seconds a young woman wearing little more than a
frock and a man's shirt came out. "Yes, Mother?" she asked. Her age
and tone made it clear that 'Mother' was a title and not the literal
truth.

"Elva, see if Amalynn is awake, would you? If she is, tell her that
she is released from her duties for the day; a favorite of hers has
come calling." Lofn looked up. "Amalynn has many qualities you will
appreciate. She is good with women. She is good with new people come
calling. And she dreams of being a pirate someday. The last, we hope,
never happens, for she is too beautiful to let wander away."

They waited in silence for a few minutes. The oppressive heat of the
Jamaica summer seeped into every corner of the building, making Beth
feel drowsy. The sound of solid, well-shod footsteps echoed across the
wooden floor. Beth opened her eyes to find herself looking at a woman
clearly from southern Spain, the Moorish Country. She had the dark
skin and eyes of those people, a defiant smile, and the most lovely
gown Beth had seen since the night her father's house had been burned
by the governor's men. Beth felt a blush glow back into her cheeks
immediately as she felt herself grow wet between her legs. Her sex
yearned to be explored by this woman, and that might happen if all
went well.

Lofn spoke to Amalynn in a language that Beth did not recognize-- the
tongue of the Moors, perhaps. Amalynn looked puzzled, then resigned to
some instruction, but when she looked over at Beth her expression was
one of immediate pleasure. She replied to Lofn in what must have been
the same tongue, and Lofn placed her hand on Amalynn's shoulder with a
final word. "Come," she said.

They walked over to where Beth and Spike were waiting for them. "I
would like to introduce you to our newest customer, and to introduce
her to you. With your help, she might yet become a regular of our
humble establishment. Beth, this is the woman I feel is most capable
of lightening your heart. Her name is Amalynn. Amalynn, this is your
customer for the day. You might know of her. She is Bloody Beth."

Beth almost protested at the hated nickname, but the look of wonder
and open-faced desire on Amalynn's face told her not to make the
protest now, or too strongly later. For the kind of attention she was
seeking, she could put up with the name for a couple of hours. Amalynn
held out her hand, offering it to Beth. Beth took the hand and
watched, amazed, as Amalynn did a perfect curtsey, the kind of thing
Beth's nanny had once done in front of her father. "I am honored to
meet so fine a warrior as yourself," Amalynn said, her voice smooth
and rich with an accent mixed in equal parts Jamaica and Spain.

It was suddenly clear to Beth that there would be a division of duties
between the two of them that would be somewhat like what men and women
did. Amalynn, being the one doing the selling, expected to play the
part of the woman, leaving the acts of masculinity to Beth. She wanted
to protest yet again: she had no idea what to do! She was sure that
Lofn had told Amalynn of her newness to inversion. She just hoped that
it all would make sense when they got behind closed doors. She found
her voice again to respond. "And I am delighted to meet a woman as
lovely as yourself, Amalynn."

Amalynn smiled, apparently delighted. "Come, My lady Beth. I will show
you to our special rooms. We shall treat you as no less than we would
treat the Governor himself."

The thought that this beautiful woman had ever treated that villain
threatened to churn Beth's stomach. She fought the urge to scowl.

Amalynn recognized Beth's ill-concealed discomfort. She said, "I will
not speak of him again. I know how much trouble he has been to you and
your men."

"I thank you for that," Beth replied.

Amalynn led her down a hallway and through a door. The room was
appointed in the manner of a boudoir of leisure and pleasure. A
four-poster bed, of the kind pirates dreamed and no gentleman or lady
of Jamaica could live without, occupied one corner of the room; from
it hung the mosquito netting that served many a night. A chair and
dressing table were set next to it. A chifferobe occupied another
corner of the room. Double doors with inset panes of leaded glass led
out into a rear courtyard. From where she stood Beth could see two
women working in the garden, their hands covered in cloth gloves,
their heads covered with bonnets to keep out the noonday sun. The
sense of luxuriant wealth seeped into Beth and threatened to make her
sick for a home she could barely remember and knew no longer existed.

Amalynn turned to her and took her hand. The warmth of that touch
turned Beth's thoughts in the direction of satisfying her strange
curiosity. She looked into the sweet eyes of the woman who was here to
help her with that satisfaction.

Amalynn then released Beth's hand, reached behind her own back, and
tugged at something. She then presented her hands. "Undress me, my
lady Beth?"

Beth took the cuffs of Amalynn's dress and pulled on them. The fabric
of the dark girl's white dress flowed over her shoulders like a stream
from the mountain, pouring down over her body and falling to the
floor. "Do you like what you see?"

Beth nodded, unsure if she should say anything else.

Amalynn turned around and presented her back. "Unlace my waist?"

Beth's fingers trembled as she reached for the thin cord that held the
girl's dress cinched. She pulled the lace free and then parted the
reinforced fabric of her cinch, pushing it apart, exposing Amalynn's
dark skin to her eyes. The rounded curvature of Amalynn's full
buttocks came into view with excruciating delay. She was clearly
taking her time to let Beth's desire build.

And building it was. Her heart thudded against her chest with lust and
alarm. Was she really going to closs over and discover the shame
within her? Were the forbidden lusts of women away from men to be made
hers? She feared for her immortal soul, already so threatened by what
she had had to do to stay alive.

But there was no denying the beauty of Amalynn's flesh. The dress
dropped to the ground and Amalynn stepped out of it, the whole of her
body before Beth's eyes. The piratess's eyes swallowed the feast
before her even as Amalynn turned round. Her breasts were of no
remarkable size and with a tendency to lay down flat against her
chest. Her belly was smooth and flat and dark as coffee, and between
her legs lay a dark thatch of promise that Beth already yearned to
touch and explore. She felt her own sex begin to weep with joy at the
prospect.

"I am at your leisure," Amalynn said.

"You will make my knees buckle with that voice of yours, Amalynn,"
Beth sighed. "I do not know what to do. I am new to this. If you are
at my leisure, then show me what we do next. My heart is there,
Amalynn, but I cannot imagine what two insides do with one another."

"That is the easy part, my lady Beth," Amalynn said, stepping forward.
She reached out for Beth's blouse, a true pirate's blouse, nothing a
woman had ever worn before, and began undoing the frogged buttons that
held it closed. Beth's mind reeled as she understood that this woman
wanted her to become as vulnerable as she was, naked. To put aside her
guns and her leathers and her chain and just be a woman, exposed to
the world. She rarely did that on the Jacob's Ladder. Now she was
being asked to do it here, on the island ruled by the man who had
destroyed her family and sought her life.

She resigned herself to it. Her desires were too strong to resist, and
she just hoped that she and Spike had made the right choice in coming
here. She allowed Amalynn to continue.

Amalynn undid each button with deliberation, teasing Beth with each
moment that passed. Beth could not take her eyes off the Moorish
girl's face, and the other gave her an insouciant smile. "All is well,
my lady." As the button at Beth's navel came loose, Amalynn reached
into Beth's shirt, parting it as little as necessary, her open palms
revealing themselves to be cooler than Beth's skin as they pressed
down onto the piratess's belly. Beth's soul reacted with fire, a
warmth growing from her feet and licking within her thighs and womb.

Amalynn leaned forward, her head bent down to kiss Beth's skin just
below the neck, just at the top of her chest. "My lady?" Amalynn
asked. "May I... may I stray outside my duties for a moment and ask
what may be a rude question?"

Beth found the question perplexing. "Of course, Amalynn," she said
anyway.

"When was the last time you had a bath?"

Beth laughed. "Oh, Amalynn! It has been years since I washed in
anything but the rain. Why, have you an idea?"

"I do!" Amalynn said with a smile. "Elva! Elva!"

"I am coming, Amalynn!" said a cheerful voice tripping down the
hallway.

"Elva, how soon can we draw a bath for Lady Beth here?"

"The coals kept through the night so the pot is hot. I can probably
make one in a short while. Make your way to the room; I will bring
water shortly." The slip of a house servant disappeared again.

"Come, Beth. Let us pretend we are civilized ladies."

"You more than I," Beth said. "A bath would be most welcome."

Amalynn led her across the hallway and through two more rooms, each
decorated in a different royal style. Their destination had a brick
floor with two depressions in it, each large enough to hold a
full-grown man, each sloped at one end. She opened a sluice and
allowed water to flow into one of the tubs until it was half-full. A
moment later, Elva entered with a pot almost as large as she was on a
wheeled trolley. "You began without me," she objected.

"I thought to save you effort," Amalynn said.

Elva grinned. Using a cloth to protect her hands, she pushed the pot
on the trolley over, allowing the water to pour into the tub. Steam
billowed forth until Amalynn said, "Wait. Beth, is this to your
liking?"

Beth tested the water and found it delightful. Not so warm as to
oppress further in the summer's heat but not so cool as to be
uncomfortable. "It's perfect."

"Good."

"I'll leave the pot, then," Elva said, "and go put on another for your
sisters." She disappeared through another door. Beth and Amalynn were
again alone.

Amalynn sat down on the stone. "Come here, Beth." Beth shifted closer.
Amalynn continued as she had begun, undoing Beth's boots and putting
them aside, then placing Beth's belt and guns at the top of tub, near
the slope. "You can reach them if you need them," Amalynn said. She
helped Beth out of her blouse and finally her pants. Beth sniffed
herself delicately and decided that Amalynn was correct; she could use
this bath, although its blessings might well be short-lived. "Into the
water, my lady."

Beth sighed with pleasure as the water surrounded her. Fresh water,
hot and clean, the like of which was never to be found on a pirate
ship, and although every man on Jacob's Ladder was a near and true
compatriot they were all filthy, ragged men to be sure, men who
thought baths were the work of the Devil and the province of Jews. She
closed her eyes.

"My lady," Amalynn's voice cooed in her ear. "Be still." A hand
touched her chest, a cloth in that hand, and Beth smelled the scent of
lavender and coconut-- a liquid combining two cleansing oils, one
native, one not. She recognized it instantly; her father had given her
some many years ago. The cloth was neither loving nor demanding but
efficient, and she felt Amalynn's hands scrubbing what must have been
years' worth of dirt from her flesh. Amalynn deliberately avoided
Beth's sex as she worked off the sweat from legs, knees, feet. When
her hands abandoned the cloth to just rub Beth's feet insistently,
Beth feared she had drowned in the tub and gone to Heaven instead. It
was only the gentle caress of small hands on her breasts that made her
warm with more than just the weather and the bath.

"I'm going to water your hair," Amalynn said. And warm water coursed
through her hair, poured over her and soaked into her. Amalynn's hands
worked the cleansing oils into her hair, massaging her head. Beth
drowsed in an unknown ecstasy. She could live this way forever.

Then, delicate fingers were in the hair of her sex. She startled
momentarily, but did not open her eyes. They stroked her pudenda, and
two hands on her thighs told her to part her legs. She did as she was
asked. One finger, a woman's gentle finger, probed between the lips of
her sex, pushing them apart as the hand had her thighs. She felt the
rush of water as it reached into her inner core. A softer cloth this
time touched within her most private places. Her head began to spin
and she realized that she had been holding her breath. With one
explosive gasp she let it out, taking in that needed air.

The cloth drifted away in the water and now it was just Amalynn's skin
caressing her sex, the palm of the girl's slim hand covering her
secrets. Beth remembered to breathe even as one finger slipped into
her body. Amalynn's touch explored her with a gentleness that might
have come from an angel. Beth did not know how much more she could
take. But here she lay, naked in a bath, with another woman's hands in
places no man had seen or touched with such attention.

A finger-- no, a thumb-- pressed against Beth's pudenda and a powerful
wave rolled through her belly. Amalynn slipped another finger into
Beth's sex even as her grip became stronger and more insistent. That
thumb, that accursedly talented thumb, was touching some place Beth
had never explored or seen herself, somewhere so shockingly powerful
that it must have been invented by the Devil himself as a temptation
to women. Beth was losing her mind in the pleasuring heights Amalynn
teased from her. Her sex felt so full and heavy she feared it could
pull her down into the bathtub, were the water any deeper. Amalynn's
hand was so strong, so irresistible.

And then the young, soft-voiced creature that held a scourge of the
Spanish main in her hand leaned over and kissed Beth's mouth with her
own. Beth's passion unleashed itself in a volley of kisses like a line
of riflemen. Amalynn's fingers plunged deep into her body, her thumb
and palm caressing the outsides with heated demand.

Beth could not contain herself any longer. Her body exploded like a
bag of powder put to the fuse. The force of a broadside slammed into
her soul and a scream of sorcerous origin filled her ears before she
realized the voice was her own.

The waters subsided before she understood that it was the thrashing of
her own body that had whipped them near to froth. The weight of a warm
body against her own reminded her of the source of such pleasure, of
the dark girl who had shown her a truth she hadn't anticipated.
"Amalynn?"

"You survived la petit mort?" Amalynn grinned, apparently enjoying her
own little pun. "I am glad. I have brought pleasure to many women, but
never to one who is as lusty as you, my lady Beth."

Beth kissed the other girl's forehead. "I think I am clean now. Is it
time for me to go?"

"Only if you wish. I have not heard the first bell of evening, so we
have much time. You are a customer, my lady, and I would not think of
rushing you."

Beth rose from the tub, choosing a towel with which to dry off. "You
have one thing to teach me, Amalynn: how you did that."

Amalynn's smile widened. "Of course, my lady. Although now that we are
bathed, perhaps I shall have a chance to show you more."

"There is more than that?" Beth asked, unbelieving.

"There is much more," Amalynn replied. "Come. Dry. We shall retire to
my room."

Beth, refreshed from her nap yet worn from the demands Amalynn had
placed on her, followed Amalynn back to the room where they had begun.
There, Amalynn turned, reached out, and plucked the towel off Beth's
naked body. They stood there, the two of them, naked before each
other. Beth had never seen another woman's whole, unclothed body
before and had nothing with which to compare the experience. She had
seen Lady Speer in little more than her underthings, but that had been
under circumstances that would not have permitted more. She knew that
her own body was the kind men admired, a bit thick in the thighs and
waist, a bit small up top, but at least the kind of body that healthy
men desired. Amalynn was now examining her in the same way she had
earlier eyed the Amalynn.

"Beth," Amalynn whispered, "You must touch me."

Beth could think of few things she would do, but she did not know
where to start. Her hand, seemingly of its own will, found Amalynn's
arm, then traced the line of her shoulder and throat. Beth was
reminded of the few times she had killed men by running them through,
and the one she had killed this way, at the throat; today she had her
fingers, not a sword, she was touching flesh and bone and delighting
in the pleasure of it. Her sex still flowed with desire for this
beautiful girl, this gem plucked from the sky to please her. She
closed the distance between them and, this time, she chose to kiss
Amalynn. Her hands closed on Amalynn's small breasts, and the feel of
those soft, small globes threatened to cause Beth to swoon. She could
not have had a stronger confirmation of her inversion than that.

Amalynn's tongue taught hers its secrets as they kissed. "The bed,"
Amalynn whispered when she had the chance.

"Aye," Beth agreed.

For the first time, undiluted by water and undistracted by the passion
she had reached earlier, Beth had an opportunity to really feel
Amalynn's body against her own. A profusion of curves and caresses
even when she was not moving, her body a soft pillow where a man's
body held rough metal, Amalynn delighted her senses and awoke her
desires in ways she could not begin to express. She allowed her
fingers to sail over Amalynn's body and explore the dark places she
had never seen even on herself. Amalynn turned over onto her back.
"Come here," she whispered.

Beth sat up on the bed as Amalynn parted her legs. "Touch me, Beth. As
I did to you."

Beth looked down between the girl's legs; under the tangle of hair she
could see a line of bright, lovely pink. Moisture not entirely from
the bath clung to Amalynn's pubes and gave her sex a celestial,
magical appearance.

Beth's voice caught in her throat as she started to protest that she
didn't know where to begin. She used both hands to part Amalynn's fur,
exposing two lips surrounding another, smaller pair. She touched the
outer lips and they parted easily under her caress, revealing a
confusing wriggle of flesh underneath, an opening into Amalynn's body
that Beth had never imagined. An inch above it sat a tiny, glistening
pearl.

"My pirate," Amalynn gasped as Beth's fingers touched that spot of
white gently, "kiss me. There." Amalynn touched Beth's fingers to make
clear exactly what she meant.

Beth would never have thought to apply her mouth but the suggestion
was undeniable in its attraction. She bent down, kissing Amalynn's
thigh, tasting the Moorish girl's skin even as she reached down to
that secret place. The strong scent of her washed through Beth like
the scent of a cleansing storm and finally, completely, she knew that
this was what she desired. She kissed Amalynn's sex, allowed the
wetness of it to roll onto her tongue. Amalynn reacted with a soft
moan. Beth could see the girl's fingers clenching at the bedsheets.
"Aye, my pirate. Kiss me again."

Beth kissed Amalynn's sex again.

"Right above," Amalynn moaned. "The pearl. Kiss me there. Tongue me
there."

Beth followed Amalynn's instructions. She had little knowledge of what
she was trying to accomplish, except that she wanted to drive Amalynn
to the kind of ecstasy she had felt earlier that day. She seemed to be
succeeding, for as her tongue encircled Amalynn's pearl of pleasure
the dark girl's back arched and her sweet voice clashed with guttural
words coming in it.

Her hands clasped at Amalynn's thighs, her soul thrilled to the power
in her mouth as Amalynn demanded more from her kisses, more from her
tongue. Beth gave as much as she could, wishing she had more
understanding of what she was doing. It didn't seem to matter.
Amalynn's body surged, trembled forcefully, her throat trapped between
a shriek of joy and a sigh of amazement, and then she collapsed onto
the bed, seemingly exhausted.

Beth lay down beside Amalynn, convinced her duty had been done, and
cupped one breast in her hand, stroking the still-erect nipple with
fascination.

Amalynn turned her head weakly. "I have been conquered."

Beth giggled. "Impossible. You have not been unmasted."

Amalynn smiled at the joke. "I never put up my mast."

"You don't have a mast," Beth said, puzzled at the direction her
banter had suddenly taken.

"Oh, but I do!" Amalynn said. "It is amazing what supple leather and
sweet oils can be shaped into, my lady Beth. It is something to
fulfill us on those nights when the memory of a man filling us is
strong and hard to resist."

Beth found the suggestion incredible. "Show me," she said.

Amalynn reached under the bed and pulled out a small, leather harness
to which a dingus of some sort had been sewn.

It was, thought Beth, a close travesty of the male member, but she
could not imagine herself using it. "On those days, Amalynn, on those
days I think I would still prefer a man."

The dark girl pouted. "So, you are not an invert after all?" she asked
as she dropped it back whence it had come.

Beth seized Amalynn, threw her down onto the bed and pinned her with
the weight of her body. "I am, and it shames me not, you tease, you!"
She kissed Amalynn hard, and tiny noises from the other girl told her
of the magic in her kisses. "Some old memories are just worth
revisiting."

"Oh, Pirate Beth!" Amalynn gasped. "You are such a joy I am almost
pained to ask for my fee."

"You have earned it. It is your due. You are allowed to enjoy it, much
as I enjoy my life as a pirate, even as it is what I must do to
survive." She leaned over the edge of the bed and spotted the chest
from which Amalynn's dubious toy had emerged. "My clothes. They are in
the room with the baths."

"I shall fetch them." Amalynn rose and walked out, leaving Beth to lie
on clean sheets.

Beth enjoyed one last eyeful of Amalynn's sound, rounded buttocks as
she left the room. The heat of their lovemaking and the day had taken
their toll and she listened in a relaxed torpor to the sounds of the
house. A large, deep gong of a bell rang outside, and she heard the
sounds of running feet and the giggling of girls. That must have been
the bell Amalynn had spoken of, the one that awakened the girls who
had duty for the night and told them to prepare for the evening.

Amalynn returned with the clothes. She had a puzzled look on her face.
"There is a very young man in the front room. He says he is from your
ship and has come with a message that you must have immediately."

"Does he wear a white shirt with a yellow sash?"

Amalynn nodded.

"That would be William, my steward." Beth accepted her clothing from
Amalynn and dressed. She did so with reluctance, even as Amalynn
pulled on her own clothing. Before Beth was half-finished, the dark
girl was again a vision of clothed beauty, her hair brushed into
gentle waves down her back. She supposed that was a necessary skill
for a fille de joie. "You are beautiful, Amalynn."

"And you are magnificent, Beth. I would beg of you to come back soon."

Beth smiled. "A steady customer?"

"And a favored one!" Amalynn said, even before Beth began counting out
the coins. She left a healthy addition.

They walked out into the front room, where William stood, trembling at
the sight of so many women. "Mr. William!" Beth said in a voice so
familiar with command that the room came to a halt even as she said
it. She leaned down and whispered. "What have you come for?"

He whispered in kind. "Mr. Bart sent me, captain, ma'am, to tell you
that a new ship is come into harbor. A frigate from England. He said
to tell you that it s being captained by Sir Joseph Defoe, and it
comes with a noble carriage on board, ma'am, one Jacob Alexander
Harcourt."

Beth felt a chill run down her back, one completely out of place with
the desperately hot tropical sun outside. "Oh, God in Heaven," she
whispered.

"Is there something wrong, Captain?" William asked, even as Amalynn
looked on nervously.

"That depends, young William, on what you mean by 'wrong'. We must
return to the Jacob's Ladder. Immediately." She turned to Amalynn and
bowed. "Thank you so much for your kind service, M'Lady Amalynn. I
look forward to seeing you again very soon."

"And I you. Good fortune, my lady Beth. Give the good governor and his
men the thrashing they deserve. And come back to me."

"I shall do my best," she said, giving Amalynn's hand a gentle
squeeze. "Come, William. Let us collect old Spike. We must be gone."
As they left, they did not notice a dark, bald man watching them all
with intense interest. He left shortly after they did, going up
Capitol Hill.
  _________________________________________________________________

Bloody Beth, Chapter 3

Bloody Beth is Copyright (C) 2002 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Distribution
limited to electronic media not-for-profit use only. All other rights
are reserved to the author.

--
Elf M. Sternberg, Proud to be an Extinctionist
http://www.drizzle.com/~elf/  

With the advance of biogenetics, it is not so much that we are losing
our dignity and freedom but that we realise we never had them in the
first place. - Slavoj Zizek

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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