Tor woke the next morning and immediately moved to check that Eric was still on the pillow beside her. She was relieved to find his slight weight curled against her collarbone. She sighed softly and gently stroked his back. He was safe. She sat up, cupping him to her upper chest, and leaned against the headboard. They needed to be moving on. With her detour to take care of the humans Eric had befriended, not to mention the delay due to training Idiot, it was highly likely her brothers were already setting up their pens and stalls for the fair. She had her own work to set up. Tor knew they weren't going to set up her pens or show any of her horses. They despised the thought of her doing good in her business.

She huffed and tried to pick out from memory which of her yearlings were ready to be sold. She could immediately recall the two year olds that had been started. It was easy to recall which geldings had the best personality. She hummed under her breath as she thought. She knew the big bay she called Dynamo would be a great work horse. He had a head for cows and was absolutely bomb-proof. There was one point where she had lit a small firecracker and let it explode not too far from the gelding. He didn't even flick an ear. She continued humming as she mused over these things.

Eric stirred at the vibrations beneath him. His eyes fluttered open. Daylight, filtered in through the curtains, greeted him. He moaned softly and snuggled a little further into the warm cloth beneath him. It took him a couple minutes before he realized he was held up to Tor's sleeping shirt by her hand. The material was thin and he could feel the heat of her breast beneath him. He grinned and began stroking his perch.

Tor felt this and rolled her eyes. "Good morning to you, too," she muttered as she pulled him away. "It seems your kidnapping experience didn't dampen your enthusiasm for the woman's figure any."

Eric just grinned. "It wasn't women who kidnapped me."

His guardian snorted. "Pity. Why did I retrieve you, again?"

The princeling looked a little crestfallen at that. "Because I'm yours?" he tried.

"Right, right." She slid from bed and set him back on her pillow before stretching. She knew Eric was eyeing the way her breasts made the chemise ride up and her nipples poked through the thin fabric. But, she let him ogle. Looking was fine as long as he didn't dare to touch without permission.

The young man, who was still very much a boy in some ways, let his eyes roam her form. He gulped as he felt an increased tightening in his pants. By the Creator she was a beautiful woman. He didn't take his eyes off her, even as she seemed to sashay to the other side of the small-to-her-room and slip behind the changing screen. She tossed her nightclothes over the screen and the boy so desperately wished to be a fly on the wall on the other side of that screen. When Tor came back out a minute later, fully dressed in her jeans, button-up shirt and boots, Eric sighed.

Tor looked him over and arched a brow. "Aren't you going to dress? I figured you would be ready for breakfast."

"I am!" he protested.

"So you want to go to breakfast in your night-shirt? Odd. But if you want." She reached down to scoop him into her hand.

"Hey hey hey!" he protested, backing up. "I'm going to change. I'll change right now!"

Tor smirked and brought her hand back. "Alright. I'll give you a couple minutes while I pack our things." She set his bag down in front of him. Once he began changing, she packed up what little she owned. It was simply a matter of rolling up her night clothes and slipping them into one of the saddlebags. She ran the brush through her tangled mop of auburn hair before tying it back in a ponytail. Satisfied, she stashed it back in the saddlebag and turned to her human charge. Pet.

"Ready?" she asked. Eric was on his rear, struggling just a bit with getting his boots on over his breeches legs. Her keen eyes noticed that he was having less of a struggle now than when she first got him back from the previous doctor. At this point, she was glad that she had not left that other human doctor to his own devices. And that she had saved some of his people, however inadvertently it may have been. Now she had a boon to hold over his head whenever Eric needed to see a human doctor. She briefly mused about taking them with her once she joined back up with her brothers. But then decided against it. Her brothers' posse would do irreparable harm to the gentle humans and would destroy any boon she had over the doctor.

Eric finally got the boot over his heel and sighed as he flopped backwards. He looked up to Tor and grin. "I am. Thank you for your patience." He rolled to his hands and knees and pushed himself to his feet, wobbling unsteadily. He lost his balance and tumbled backwards, right into Tor's palm.

She smirked as she lifted him up. "Careful, Gimp. I don't want to have to backtrack to the doctor just so he can fix you all over again." She swung her pack onto her shoulder and headed downstairs for breakfast.

The three days between towns were monotonous. To a T Eric felt. He slept most of the time they were riding and pestered Tor for stories and legends from the Elder race in the evenings. She would grudgingly oblige with one that seemed relevant and he would listen, absolutely enraptured. When she finished, he would trade a human story with her. She only seemed half-aware of them.

Tor looked down at Eric when they reached the outskirts of Riverton. "I'm going to buy you a firearm. You need one for self-defense."

Eric looked up at her from where he had draped himself across her thigh. "I do not!" he protested. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"That's the opposite of what your recent track-record shows."

"They jumped me! It wasn't a fair fight."

"Uh-huh." She turned Idiot down the main road and glanced back at the mare who was plodding along without a care in the world. Her violet eyes turned back to her human. "It would have been more fair if you had a pistol to grab and shoot someone with."

He frowned. "Not if my hands were bound."

"Depends on where and how they are bound. You quite possibly still could."

He grumbled. "I don't need one."

"You're getting one. That's final."

The princeling heaved a long-suffering sigh. There was little use in arguing. She had a point. He just didn't like the thought of shooting someone. They rode through the town until they came upon a small shop. Various odds and ends were displayed in the window. The symbol hanging above the door explained the nature of the store.

"A pawn shop?" he asked. "Why are we buying me a firearm at a pawn shop? And I'm still not convinced I need one! It's not like it would do any good against your brothers."

"But it will against their humans," she pointed out.

"They have pet humans, too?" He glanced up at her with a confused expression. "But, shouldn't they, you know, be more welcoming towards me?"

"No. You are a completely different class of human from them." She dismounted and quickly caught him when he stumbled forward off the saddle.

"That didn't stop my peaceful and pleasant interactions with the people we helped," he pointed out.

"The humans my brothers keep are criminals." She lifted him up to her eye-level and watched his face as she spoke. "When we swing down below the Channel they ride into human territory and raid the jails and prisons. They dump the humans in their saddlebags and ride back."

"But, I thought your brothers didn't like humans?"

"They don't. They keep the humans around for their amusement. Or for seasoning the stew-pot." She watched as Eric blanched. "You will be off limits to them. But I cannot be everywhere at once and there will be times you cannot come with me. So you will need to protect yourself. Thus, the firearms."

He slowly nodded. "Alright. I understand." He hugged her thumb.

Tor rolled her eyes and placed the briefest of kisses to the top of his head. "You'll be fine. One way or another. I promise. Now, you need to stay out of sight. This broker is less than loving towards humans."

She unbuttoned the first few buttons of her shirt, revealing her slightly larger than average breasts supported by the top half of a split brassiere. One quick glance downward revealed that she wasn't wearing the bottom half of the corset. He wondered if she wore anything beneath her pants. His train of thought was broken when she lowered him towards her cleavage. He was slipped between the twin mountains and situated against her sternum. He smiled and reveled in the thunder of her heartbeat. Light became shadowed as her fingers deftly buttoned up the shirt.

Tor made sure the mare's reins were secured to the D-ring and Idiot was ground-tied before turning and walking inside the shop. Some of the items that greeted her eyes were rather macabre, even to her. There were a few stuffed humans, forever frozen into different positions. One was running and his face was contorted with fear, glass marble eyes seeming to show his desperation. There was a cowering female and another male with a spear in hand as if he were about to throw it. She made a face at them and turned away in disgust.

She made her way to the front counter and caught the attention of the girl working there. "Is Henry in? I'm an old friend of his."

The young woman smiled as she turned towards the back. "Mr. Hunter!" she called at the top of her lungs, "you've got company!"

Tor winced just a bit at the girl's volume. She wondered if she was going to have permanent ear damage from spending time in the shrieking harpy's company. A moment later, an older man pushed aside the swinging door that led to the back. His slightly balding head boasted a poor comb-over and his thick glasses reflected the afternoon sun that shone through the windows in dusty rays. His belly hung over his pants, pulling the leather work-apron taught around his midsection. The faded blue shirt he wore was stained, giving him an overall unwashed appearance. His teeth were straight but yellowed when she smiled in greeting.

"May I hel—" he cut himself off when he realized to whom he was speaking. His once-friendly smile shifted to a nervous one. He knew this woman. And her brothers. "May I help you?" he finished his original sentence. "Evelyn, go ahead and take your lunch."

The perky young employee bounced away with a chirped "Okay!"

Tor watched her leave before turning back to Henry. "I want to see your collection."

The fat man frowned up at the slightly taller woman. "I have no idea what you mean. Everything I have for sale is on display."

She leaned across the counter, shadowing him as she spoke. "Don't play dumb. I happen to know a bounty hunter or two is after you. And if there isn't, I've got friends in the sheriff's office, as well."

His frown shifted into a scowl. "You are a despicable woman! A disgrace to your gender. Why can't you be more feminine and delightful like Evelyn? She wears skirts and dresses, like a lady. She doesn't threaten people."

Tor grinned, bearing her teeth. "Being a lady isn't fun. Being a woman in a man's world is. Now show me your collection."

"Fine!" he groused. "But you had better have payment this time! No more credit for you until you pay off what you owe."

"Of course, Henry," Tor said as she lifted up the divider and walked to the back room.

Henry nervously glanced around and followed her. The room was small and windowless. The main light came from a series of candle sconces arrayed on the walls around the room. There were cabinets all along the top half of the walls and drawers along the bottom. There were no glass displays in this room and everything was accessed by a key. The walls were a stark white. A hand lantern sat on a pony wall that stretched halfway across the room to display merchandise.

Tor faced the shop owner once more. "Let's see what you've got. And none of the cheap stuff that will break after just one use."

The heavy man grumbled and stepped over to the closest cabinet. He unlocked the door and quickly brought out several large trays worth of human weaponry, placing them with care on the pony wall. Everything the store out front held for Elders was boasted in human size on the cushioned velvet. Small pistols with silver inlay, old rifles with wooden stocks, an array of bows with aboriginal design. There was nothing that couldn't be found here. The young woman looked over everything, fingering the pistols and eyeing the older rifles.

"Listen and listen good, Henry. What I'm going to take out you may not touch, breathe on or even look sideways at. If you say anything to anyone, I won't hesitate in turning you over to the township's authority. Got it?" Her cold violet eyes watched carefully as the man nodded. "Good."

She straightened and undid the first few buttons on her top. The Elder man spluttered and gasped but didn't really protest when her breasts were revealed. He was confused, though, when he saw what appeared to be the top half of a human sticking out of her cleavage. Her long, calloused fingers slipped between her breasts and parted them, wrapping around the human. She carefully lifted him free and brought him into the artificial light of the backroom. She set him down on the counter. Her hands rested on either side of him and ready to move at a moment's notice.

Henry's brown eyes widened incredulously at the little human his best, worst, customer produced. It was a young male, dressed in fine clothing that was rumpled from his time between Tor's breasts. The way the human held himself, sharp green eyes looking down his long nose, broad shoulders back and chest out, spoke of high breeding. The Elder man's hands itched to pick up the little creature, to examine it and make molds from it for display. Or even sell the male itself. No doubt it would fetch a great price at the auctions.

As if sensing his thoughts, Tor scowled and barked at the shopkeeper. "Henry! Eyes on me."

The old man snapped his attention from the human to the Elder woman and feigned an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I just never thought that you of all people would start collecting humans. Much less those of breeding stock." He gulped and decided not to say anything more on that line of thought when her eyes narrowed dangerously and her hands clenched into fists.

"Princeling, is there anything you like? Feel free to pick things up and actually handle them," Tor said, keeping her eyes on Henry at all times.

Eric nodded, quietly walking over to the comparatively massive trays of weapons. His eyes traveled across all items and wondered just how much things like these cost. If he had his father's name here in these lands, he could get anything he wanted and the bill would be sent to the manor. But here, he had nothing to him. Except Tor. He looked up at his protector, hovering over him and staring down the portly shopkeeper. A little smile curled the corners of his lips. He had Tor and, out here, that was all he really needed.

He turned his attention back to the tray and gave it another look. His green eyes fell on a pair of matching pistols. A low whistle left his mouth at the quality of the firearm. They were .45 caliber rifled pieces, stocked up in deep walnut and fitted up with satin finished engraved brass furniture.

"Beautiful," he breathed in awe. Gently, almost reverently, he picked one up, testing its weight and balance. He knew right away he was in love. He put the pistol back on its cushion, picking up its sister and performing the same tests he did with the first one.

"Are those the ones you want?" Eric glanced up when Tor's voice rang out above him. She watched him for a moment before turning her gaze back to Henry smiling pleasantly. "How much for the matching pair?"

"Just a moment." He bent down beneath the counter, rummaging in the cabinets until he found what he was looking for. With a groan and a grunt of effort, he pulled out a thick binder and let it plop down on the opposite end of the counter.

Eric stumbled at the shockwave. He tried to catch his footing but failed and resulted in a hard landing. He winced and rubbed his sore tailbone. That was rougher than Idiot's trotting. He sent a glare Tor's way when he saw her smirk.

Henry turned the tray around, a pair of padded tweezers in hand and a magnifying lens flipped down over his right eye. Slowly, he picked up one of the matching pistols and examined it.

"Matching set of 'C-D' pistols, teardrop lock panels and nicely figured deep walnut, delicate profile and cannon-muzzle barrels. Entire pistol length is only twelve inches, barrels only seven-and-one-quarter inches," he thought aloud, reciting what his book told him about the human pistols. "Human inches, that is."

Tor narrowed her eyes. She wasn't interested in the specifics. "So, what's the price?"

The store owner turned to the thick binder, running his finger down the page until he found his answer. "Three-thousand, two hundred dollars. Without the custom case, that is," the old man said as he put the gun back in its spot. He took off the magnifying lens and replaced the tweezers in the drawer.

Eric blanched. Even if he were at home, that was a lot of money. "Tor, you don't have to do that. It's far too expensive!"

"And with the custom case?" She spoke as if he had never spoken. Eric hated it when she did that. To him, it seemed like a blatant reminder that she ultimately wasn't his friend, but his owner.

"Thirty-five," Henry replied evenly.

"Deal." She worked the wallet from her back jeans pocket, produced thirty-five rifts and handed them over to the old shopkeeper. The man's eyes lit up in delight as he counted and recounted the money. Opening a small compartment on the back of the tray, he pulled out the custom case for the pair of pistols and set it before Eric.

The human reached for the guns only to stop at Tor's voice. "Henry, can you do a favor for an old friend?" She smiled pleasantly, a very alarming thing to both men.

Henry eyed her warily. "What is it you want?"

"Just a simple little thing. On the engraving plates could you put a name for me?"

"I suppose. What do you want?"

"Just his name. 'Princeling.'" Tor picked Eric back up, slid him back into her cleavage and buttoned her shirt. She took the piece of paper Henry slid across the counter and spelled out the name. Below that, she signed her name, put the date and handed the notice of payment back to the old man.

"Alright. I'll get right on it. If you come back in a few hours, it'll be done." He filed away the piece of paper before putting everything but the two guns and their custom case away.

Tor unlocked the door and stepped into the bright, natural light of the front shop. She smiled a bit, loving the feel of the warm sun. The soft din of the customers, dings of the registers and laughter of the children outside the window rang in her ears as she wove through the crowd. Outside, her stallion stood right where she had left him, resting on one hind leg while his ears were relaxed. She picked up the reins and praised him softly as she lifted them over his head. The horse nudged her once then sighed, completely at ease.

She swung into the saddle and urged the stud forward. There were a few more things to take care of in this town before she moved on. Not the least of which was finding out when the next ferry would cross the Channel. If one wasn't crossing soon, she would have to have Idiot and the mare swim across. Which would not be easy. She pursed her lips as she walked her horses down to the livery stable.