The military had commandeered the big table in the corner. Nothing unusual, the Mouse was a soldier's tavern, the closest drinking den to the Cape Carey garrison. But these men were not of the garrison; they had a savage look Shen knew too well, the look of the Wolfpack. Drafted from out of town, they had arrived around midday with a great thirst. They drank heavily all afternoon, growing louder and more obnoxious as time wore on, and Shen approached with caution. The moons she had worked in the Mouse gave her confidence, but also a healthy sense of brewing trouble.

One of the younger guards had eyed her with interest when they arrived, and the ale enhanced his libido. As Shen leant to lay the tray of drinks on the table, he clapped one meaty hand on the top of her breeches. She pushed him off and retreated a step, glancing around for Nomi. It was all part of the job, but something in the young soldier's eyes set her skin crawling. She had seen it before.

"Come here." He gestured for her to sit on his lap, but she hung out of reach.

"I have to work," she said. "Did you want anything else?"

"You've got exactly what I want," the soldier leered. Shen's face grew hot. The others at the table laughed, encouraging him.

"Leave me alone," she told him. "I'm not interested, and I'd advise you not to try it."

"Oh, you'd advise me, would you?" He lunged for her, and with one swift movement pulled her onto his lap, trying to slide one hand up her shirt.

"There's not much of you, is there?" he mocked. Shen shifted position slightly, twisting her wrist, and the colour drained from the young man's ale-reddened cheeks as he glanced downwards in cold fear at the blade in her hand.

"Touch me again," she hissed, "and I'll cut it off. Is that clear?"

He swallowed hard. "Perfectly," he squeaked. Laughter spread around the table, but it died at the expression on her face.

"I'm glad we understand each other," she said, as she stood, feeling waves of hostility roll towards her.

She stalked back toward the bar, but paused mid-stride as the humiliated guard's voice echoed after her. "I'll wait for you after work, witch! I'll deal well with you for that!"

The faint swish of Shen's knife whispered in the silence of the tavern. She swivelled to face him, blade gleaming in her hand, reflecting light from the iron chandelier. "Would you care to repeat what you just called me?" Her tone was sweet; her face was not.

"Witch! Daughter of swine! I'll have you, you..." Whatever further unpleasantness the guard planned to heap on the slim girl were expelled in a breath as she hurled herself across the room and slammed full-tilt into him. The speed of her assault sent the young man sprawling over the table, showering ale up the walls and across the floor. His companions sprang up in alarm and annoyance at the waste of their paid-for drinks, but Shen heard none of it. She struggled to bring her dagger down to the exposed flesh of the man's throat, but he was Wolfpack trained, a killer who hunted with killers. He would not fall easily to her blade.

He threw Shen off him. She stumbled into a table of regulars, who yelled their support. They were used to these altercations. Hardly a week went by without a brawl of some kind in the Mouse, and Shen was usually in the thick of it. But even she had never tried to take on a whole squadron of Wolfpack before, and it was clear she had taken too big a mouthful this time. People looked around anxiously for Nomi as the pack closed in.

All six of the tall, armed soldiers formed a loose circle around her as the more intelligent of the bar's residents scrambled for safety. Shen faced them without visible fear. If they were to send her North, she wouldn't be going alone. She had looked death in the face before and experienced enough of life to know that sometimes death was better. But she wouldn't go without a fight.

"Witch! And daughter of witches!" the young man taunted her again. He regained his poise, but she knew she had made him look a fool, and he would not let it go unpunished. He took a step forward. "I'm going to give you the mercy of killing you here, rather than taking you to the barracks with us. Think of me on your way North, won't you?"

"At least I'll go North," Shen spat. "You're going straight to the Underland, Wolfpack scum!"

As she lunged for him, the pack dived on her, all knives and teeth. The kitchen door crashed against the wall, and the White Giantess strode into the fray. Nomi wielded an iron bar that looked like a toothpick in her great hand, and she slammed it down into the melee as if it weighed no more than a feather. Hardened Wolves scrambled aside before her onslaught, as she picked up a chair one-handed and threw it against the wall. Only Shen and the young guard still grappled in the pools of ale, and Shen was coming off worst. Her knife was kicked away across the floor, and now she fought with limbs and teeth. The young man's dagger opened her arm from shoulder to elbow, and he went for her throat as Nomi seized him from behind, lifted him high in the air, and threw him like a rag doll into one of the wooden pillars supporting the roof. He staggered to his feet, dazed and battered and looked up. And up.

The White Giantess stood almost eight feet tall and nearly as broad. Her skin was the colour of chalk, her eyes blazed red, and the iron bar she slapped into her hand could have killed a man easily. She scanned the room slowly as Shen scrambled to her feet and wiped the blood from her mouth.

"Are you all right?" she asked, in an unexpectedly kind voice.

Shen nodded, as big-hearted regulars helped her to a seat and plied her with ale to stop her trembling. Nomi paused, nodded at her, and turned to the cause of all the trouble.

The guard's eyes rolled wildly, and as Nomi advanced on him he managed to hiss to his companions, "What under the stars is that?"

Nomi's eyes were weak, but there was no faulting her ears. "My name is Nomi," she told him, hefting the iron bar with an ease born of experience. "This is my place, and I don't want you in it. Get out now, all of you!"

"But your girl attacked me!" the terrified guard protested. "She's insane!"

Shen grinned. Her expression held absolutely no humour. "The man who tries to touch me without my permission is either very brave, or very foolish. Which are you?"

"Shen," said Nomi, still in that incongruously gentle voice, "go and join Callum in the kitchen, will you? He can tend to your arm."

Shen stepped away reluctantly, knife hand twitching over empty air. She did not argue, but she hesitated by the kitchen door, determined to see the outcome of the fight.

Nomi turned once more to the hapless guard and raised the crowbar threateningly. "Did you touch her?" she demanded. "Did you?"

"I was just fooling," the man replied. "I didn't mean any harm. She should have more humour about her, the miserable witch."

"If you laid a hand on Shen, you're lucky to be alive at all," Nomi told him, "and if you stay here a moment longer, you're going to be leaving in a canoe. I suggest you go. Now."