The Return Read Online Free Page B

lightly as he turned to leave.
    I went to my room to strip out of my armor and weapons, and my gear was lying on the floor in my room. I pulled out my cleaning kits and started cleaning my armor, guns and weapons. As I was finishing there was a light knock on my door. “Come in.”
    A young girl of about seventeen years old opened the door. She had a shock of red hair that hung down past her waist and was thick and curly. It looked more like a mane than hair. She was thin, with small breasts about the size of a couple of tangerines. Her eyes were a beautiful emerald green. “Sir, your bath is ready.”
    I followed her to the bathing room to find a steaming tub of water. I placed my clothing and pistols on the table next to the tub, and then stepped into the hot water. Now, that felt good. I dunked my head under the water. When I came up, the girl stepped up behind me and began to wash my hair. As she used a scoop to rinse my hair she stepped around in front of me. She was completely naked. She washed my back and chest, and then had me stand up so she could wash my legs. When she began to wash my private area, I turned red in the face. Likka began to chuckle in my mind.
    
    
    
    
    
    As I stepped out of the bath, Missa began to dry me off, and Likka jumped in the tub. I chuckled, “Missa, will you help me bathe Likka?”
    “Will she bite me, sir?”
    “Not while you are bathing her.”
    Likka stuck her tongue out at me.
     I thought to her.
    After Likka was clean and dried, I got dressed in a clean set of clothes. I reached into my pouch and pulled out two gold coins and handed them to Missa “Thank you, Missa.”
    She took them with wide eyes as she got dressed.
    “Missa, to whom do I give my clothing for cleaning?”
    “I will take them, sir.”
    “Thank you.”
    I headed down to the common room to eat, with a wet, happy Likka following me. As I sat at a table, I could hear whispers of conversation going on around me. Everyone was talking about my personal war that afternoon. I just shook my head.
    The barman Kinal came out of the kitchen with a platter with a roast, a tankard of ale, a loaf of bread and a slab of cheese on it, and brought it to my table. As he sat it down I held out a gold coin “Would you bring out about twenty pounds of raw meat for my friend here.”
    As the coin disappeared into his apron he said, “Certainly, sir.”
    After I had eaten my fill, I sat back to just listen to the crowd. It was the voice saying, “He doesn’t look so tough to me.” That pulled my awareness in his direction. A young street tough was trying to pump him up after a few too many drinks.
    As he stood up, I spoke just loud enough for him and his friends to hear; “Sit down, boy, before you get hurt.”
    He turned red in the face and started walking towards me. He stepped over and stabbed a knife into the table, right next to my hand. “What do you think about that, mighty warrior?”
    “Thank you for the knife. I need a cheap piece of junk to clean shit off my boots.”
    He snapped his hand out to grab up the knife. Then fell to his knees as I twisted his fingers back and outward. As he reached with his other hand for the knife, my right hand shot out and slammed his head into the table. As he fell back, with a bloody nose and busted lip, I said “Go home to your mother, boy, you’re not ready for the big leagues.”
    He screamed as he got up off of the floor. As he lunged at me, I came up from the table, spun him and slammed him down on the table, with his own knife at his throat. “Do you really want to die, boy?” I screamed in his face. “Is this the day you have