I'll head back to the lair, I want those notes.

"That's enough, for now." I stood, sending the witch tumbling back. She pouted, looking up at me with pale eyes. "I'm going back to your lair, I want you to start ending you corpse-puppets; don't want the townsfolk complaining if they keep getting attacked."

"Okay, Master." She stood, barely reaching my neck, looking lost for a moment. I gave her a kiss, which seemed to satisfy her; somewhat.

Then she sat back down, crossing her legs, and closed her eyes.

I started up the ladder, looking around the empty inn, and walked towards the door. I was nearly at the door before I remembered that I wasn't wearing anything. I gave a sigh and got myself dressed. By the time I finished that Nadia had returned to the front of the inn, clean and little wet. She came quickly up to me, a pretty blush on her black skin, and said, "I'm clean, sir. How else can I serve you?"

"Just do as you've always done, but tell me if any women check-in by themselves." I put a finger to my chin. Then I took her face in hand, resting my thumb on her lips. "And, if you have friend as pretty as you are, then invite her over for dinner tonight. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." She shivered in pleasure.

Then I took my leave, my coin pouch heavy and my cock hard. I looked around the village, at the milling crowds and patrolling guardsmen. Probably not much more than a hundred people, and maybe a hundred more collected in nearby farms. Doubt there's anyone half as pretty as Nadia. Well, I can hope.

As I reached the exit of Barley I was stopped by a pair of militia. "Where you heading off to, Witch-hunter?"

"I'm going to make sure nothing dangerous is left in their lair." I said honestly. "Never know when some nefarious thug will drop in and pick up where she left off."

"Makes sense." the other said in a dull voice.

"Want an escort?" The older one said.

A minder, more like. I sighed, "Sure, I'll take him."

"Me?" The dull one smiled pleasantly. He had a round face and a crossed scar on his forehead.

"I was thinking someone-"

"No," I sized up the one I'd chosen. He was roughly the size of an ox, and didn't seem the type to ask questions. "What's your name, big guy?"

"Varlow." He said, "But people just call me Thug."

"Lovely people." I muttered. "I could use his talents."

"Thug ain't got talents."

"He's big, probably strong." I patted him on the arm; a massive log twice the width of my own. "I could use a lifter."

I overrode all of the older man's objections, reminding him that I'd stopped their witch problems, and mentioning that I didn't enjoy being treated like a suspicious drifter.

I mean, I was, but it was still rude.

So, Varlow and I started towards Kali's lair, making small talk as we wandered from Barley. Unfortunately, my initial assessment was accurate, the man was as dull as a hammer. Good for plotting, bad for conversation.

About twenty minutes out of town I caught sight of something odd, a flash of red in the bushes. I pointed it out, and Varlow sighed mightily. "That's miss Marian."

"Oh?"

"She grabs herbs for the medicine man," He sighed again. "She 'ent a fan of us militia. Don't like how we kept her in the walls while the witch were roamin'."

"Oh?"

"Yep." He sighed again, looking like a puppy. "She got a fi-an-say. They a good couple, people say."

"Oh." I patted him on the shoulder. "You like her, though."

"Yes." He practically deflated. "She the most beautiful person on this earth. She's super kind too, and smart. She 'ent good for a fellow like me."