off her feet and over his shoulder, as any good husbandman would a haunch of venison. Her strawberry blonde locks tumbled down around her face and down his back; her kicking feet beat an insync tatoo with her fists that were pounding his back relentlessly.

"Let me down, if you know what's good for you," she yelled. "I mean it now, Let me down... you, you..."

The hulking man continued his nonchalant stride across the room, taking a second to liberate a great horn of lager from a serving wench's tray.

When he reached the table, he lowered Amalasuntha to the floor, keeping carefully away from her flying fists...