The saloon rumbles with the raucous laughter and shouting of the drunken locals. The piano in the corner plays a familiar tune as one of the saloon's women drapes across it gesturing to anyone who looks to have coin.  

The barkeep shakes his head laughing to himself as he pours another drink. He has small beady eyes sunk into his skull, his greasy hair pulled tight into a scruffy ponytail, he just misses touching either side of the bar as he turns the mass he calls a body round to the till. He looks at himself in the mirror and wonders where it all went wrong. He drops his head instantly hitting his chin on the multiple rolls of his neck, "damn this wretch'id place. Ahhhh!" With a shout, he hits out at a glass, it skids across the bar, hits another and smashes. The sound is barely heard over the clamour, he shrugs his shoulders, turns around and pours another drink from a musty bottle he was already holding. 

^^^

Lettie leaves her room feeling the last ten minutes work all through her legs. She shakes them off sending her skirts aloft as she walks along the balcony. Heading for the stairs, she catches Ernie from the corner of her eye hit a glass, she sees it tumble and smash and chuckles to herself. "There goes anotha. Good old Ernie, making more mess for us all to clean up lader." 

She heads down the creaky stairs, taking each step carefully in her expensive-looking heels. The first step on the ancient floor creaks like a dying rat as she steps off heading for the bar. She walks elegantly, with her skirts flowing from side to side with the sway of her hips. She doesn't look but can sense she is being watched by every eye in the room. The patrons love to stare, but most cannot even dream, let alone afford her.  

She is the wanted one, the madam in this town. Her looks still undiminished compared to the younger girls. Her hair the colour of a deep sunrise, her eyes light up the room with their green reflection, her body is perfect and ever so slightly toned. With reasonably sized breasts still round and perk, she manages with the higher clientele, if there is such a thing in riband. 

Sauntering over, she reaches the bar and nods to Ernie, who shuffles over dragging his bad foot behind him. "Madam Lettie," he says, a beaming grin reaching from ear to ear showing his black and broken teeth.

"Ernie?" she drawls. "Close your mouth will ya?" she says with a smirk.

The smile fades only slightly. "Ah yes. Sorry." He looks down at his dirty apron. "A drink?" he asks with a twinkle in his eye and optimism in his voice. 

Lettie nods and turns to face the cramped saloon. She scans the room and picks out the high rollers sitting with their top hats on, they play a game of chance at the table to her left. Then the street rats in their tattered clothes, hanging around the saloon doors just waiting to pounce on the next unfortunate victim. Finally, there's the grand piano in the corner with the not so young rudy, he's slamming out a rowdy tune with a pretty bell in frilly whites draped across the top. Her jiggling to the tune slowly helping her out of her already revealing blouse. 

"Well, it's about time to have a dance I think, Ernie." She gets a grunt of approval as she saunters out amongst the tables. The pretty bell nods her way and makes herself scarce. 

She's a good one, that daisy she is. Now, another night to perform like a monkey that daddy used to have. 

Lettie takes the final step with a slight leap, making her entrance with a round of applause from the watching crowd. She stands in the middle of the saloon in the small space left between tables. Throwing out her arm, Lettie poses for them all, her eyes bright and a wide smile plastered across her face. She drops into a curtsy and rises with a grace rarely seen in the town of Baron. She looks around at Rudy, his bushy brows arching as his face beams out a toothless smile. Lettie nods to the old man and gets a deeper grin in return. He swivels on his stool, his hands lift then slam down onto the keys of the piano. The sound radiates throughout the room bringing it to life. And Lettie goes with it, her feet move first in a jump, stops and spins around, her frilly dresses fanning out brushing the legs of the patrons close by. 

As Rudy jingle jangles the keys with his fingers, Lettie spins around and around letting out bouts of laughter as she goes. Her arms out wide her head thrown back with joy staring at the rickety ceiling above. She giggles like a little girl, the light trills of her voice carrying across the entire saloon bringing smiles and laughter from the whole room. 

Oh, how I love to dance and swirl and spin. I feel so free. This is what I was made for, this and the other thing. But this is what I would do for the rest of my life.

The creek of the saloon doors breaks her from her thoughts. She looks ahead to the double swinging doors on their creaky hinges as a tanned hand let's one go and it flaps back on itself rebounding against the other, halting old Rudy's playing mid-note. 

The whole room turns Lottie stares at the lone figure as he walks in, her eyes wide at the prospect of someone new to meet. 

"Why, aren't ya somin to look at? Mmm, yes ya are," she whispers to herself. She licks her lips at the thought of running her hands across his body. 

"Who is you, to come in ere walkin like ya ow the place?" says Burt from atop one of the stools at the bar. His thin hair is grey on top and he has a smooth white handlebar moustache that wobbles after every word he speaks. Dressed in a stained checkered shirt and dusty brown slacks, his feet fitted comfortably in his best shoes; high black worker boots shined to within an inch of their life. He sits back leaning against the bar, one foot cocked on the base of the stool, the other led out straight for all to trip on. He eyes the newcomer with bloodshot eyes, his face scrunching up like a dried prune as he puffs out a plume of smoke that rises to the ceiling. "Well? Who is you?" he asks again. 

"Uh oh, this could go all wrong, fast," Lettie says under her breath. She moves her feet, making her way towards Burt and the handsome newcomer walking towards him. She quickens her strides almost running across the sticky floor, her heels clopping along the wooden decks like the hoofs of a cantering horse. 

She reaches Burt first, her dresses brushing against the stool as she eyes him. "Burt!" she hisses. She turns her head seeing the newcomer a few paces away, his face blank and expressionless. Lettie turns back to Burt before speaking again, "Look at his hands. He's missing a finger, and do you see that, what's beneath his—"

"Excuse me," says the newcomer, cutting her off. 

Lettie turns and is stunned as she meets the man's eyes. Standing almost a head taller than her she has to look up into his vibrant green orbs, transfixed by them. 

"We don't see many with your colour eyes, ah. What do we call you?" She says, her body tingles at the thought. Stop it, woman, she chides herself. 

"Hmm, I'm just a Nomad passing through is all. Don't want no trouble. Just a meal and a bed." 

"Well, I'm sure we can sort ya out with that, darling. Come, I'll take ya—" 

"Jus wait a minute, I say. What's someone like you doing ere in Baron, eh?" says Burt, both feet on the wooden planks, his body half-standing ready to move. 

The newcomer turns away from Lettie now, his steely green eyes fixing on Burt's dark blue orbs. His face remains blank but his eyes, his eyes burn with a deep fire that sends Burt down onto his stool without a word. His lip quivers with a slight smirk that disappears as quick as it appeared. "Just passing through is all. Like I said, I want no trouble... Sir."

Burt baulks at the term as if the newcomer spoke an alien language. "Hmm, we'll see, eh? Sir, ha!" he laughs. "Sir, you say? Did you all ere that, he called me Sir. Ha! We'll see. We'll see..." Burt trails off into whisperings of the drunk he is, unintelligible to anyone else's ears. 

The newcomer turns back to Lettie now, his shoulder-length hair as dark as the night itself swinging free, whipping around covering his chin before falling straight once again. He gives her a quick smile as he brushes it back before taking a step closer. "You can help with the room?" he asks, his voice smooth.

Lettie stutters before finding her voice, "Ah, yes. Yes, I can. I can help with the room." She tears herself away from his gaze reluctantly. Oh, how I could stare at those eyes. Maybe forever. Stop it, woman!  "Ernie?" she shouts with more anger than she meant. "Ernie?" she calls again. 

The fat bartender saunters over dragging his feet like a scolded child. "Yes, Madam Lettie. What can I do for ya?" he says, wiping greasy hands against his apron. 

She gives him a look of pure hatred, "Is this how we treat guests?" she says, focusing on Ernie now, but wanting to stare at the nomad again. "Eh?" 

"Yes, yes. I hear ya." 

"Get the key for eight, Ernie. And be quick about it."

"Right away, Madam Lettie. Right away, I say." Ernie turns around rummaging through a back drawer and pulls out a black key the length of a man's hand. He fingers the end checking the number then hands it over to Lettie. "That the right one, Madam Lettie. That the right one." 

"Thank ya, Ernie. Now be about your business."

He nods, "Yes, yes." Turns and off he goes to the other end of the bar looking for something to wipe down. 

Lettie swivels around and is face to face with the nomad once again. She inhales at the closeness but breathes and manages to get a word out. "This way, ah, ya got a name, handsome?"

"Nomad is fine," he says, his voice a monotone without a single hint of emotion. It stops Lettie, her body tensing at the coldness of it. 

"Right, this way then." She grabs his hand and he lets her. She turns to lead him away to the room but is faced with another problem as soon as she turns. Blocking her way stands three men, Gain, Merl and Danny. All drunk and looking for a fight. "Don't even think about it Gain. He wants no trouble, from you or anyone else." 

"Well," Gain slurs. "Trouble he has." He laughs and the other two join him, their raucous noise filling the saloon. 

"Yer, trouble he has, Lettie," says Danny. "Trouble's found him now." 

"Just drop it, boys. You don't want no part of this. Go and get yourselves a drink why don't ya?" 

"I think we do, Lettie. I think we do, specially if he's taking you too," Gain says, his body swaying slightly. 

The Nomad squeezes her hand making her turn, he nods to her, "It's alright," he whispers. "Move aside." 

Lettie does as he says and moves to the side. She peers around at the saloon seeing every eye on the exchange. She turns back and watches as the nomad steps forward, his hands at his sides, his remaining fingers flexing as if being still for too long. His cool eyes stare down the three drunks as they amble towards him. His face remains blank as they move to within a pace of him, their sour breath permeating a stink all over him. 

Keeping his voice low so only they and Lettie could hear him, "You really want to do this? In front of all these people. People, that you know, eh?" He looks at each of them in turn, his face swivelling from one to the next. He gives them time for it to sink in. let the thought of being humiliated in front of most of the town reach through to their little drink-addled brains. 

Merl and Danny exchange a look and turn to the watching patrons, their eyes wide waiting for blood. They mumble something to Gain but he shrugs it off, never taking his eyes from the nomad. "Don't mind them two," slurs Gain. "It's me ya have to worry bout, I'll tell ya that now, stranger."

"Hmm, is that so?" says the nomad matter of factly, without emotion as if he was talking to the wind or the sand. With his main focus on Gain, he lets his subconscious worry about the other two. "I'll ask once more. Are you sure you want to do this in front of all these lovely people?" 

"Stop ya questions, boy. You're not welcome ere," Gain slurs again. 

Lettie blinks as she attempts to take everything in. The exchange between them and the speed of everything that happens after. Gain swings a meaty fist at the nomad and her eyes go wide as she watches the nomad's movement. She looks on at the scene in front of her, as Gain's arm comes within distance the nomad stays rooted to the spot, his head shifts backwards then back to its original position as the fist moves through empty air. Gain stumbles with the momentum of his swing and catches himself on one of the stools. 

"Filthy son of a whore," Gain spits. 

He swings again with the other two drunks egging him on from behind. And the same thing happens. The nomad moves just out of range and this time Gain topples into an occupied table knocking drinks everywhere. The sound of smashing glass making Lettie wince. 

"Damn you to hell," Gain says, untangling himself from a broken chair. He stands and brushes off splinter's of wood from his shirt. "You will pay for that!" he shouts. 

"Get im, Gain. Make im bloody," says Merl, sniggering with Danny.

The nomad just stares, his face still blank to his situation. The only thing moving are his green eyes, watching how Gain makes his way towards him once again. Gain steps closer, his face twitching more than before but with the drink still in him, his mind only wants to fight. He hunches slightly then brings a fist overhand aiming for the nose and finds empty air again as this time the nomad takes a step back, then another as Gain swings a hook around. Gain swears aloud as his fist clunks into the brim of the bar, the crack of knuckles on wood rings out bringing a quick smirk to the nomad's lips. 

"Ahh! Fight me, stranger!" Gain bellows, cradling a quickly swelling hand. 

Gain swings again, his fist aimed at the nomad's right eye, but this time is different. This time the nomad shifts his head back and catches Gain's arm with his left hand and with his right he cradles his skull turning him then slams his face against the edge of the bar. The sound of his face connecting with the wooden surface sends out an audible crack signalling some form of breaking bone. The nomad holds Gain there for a few seconds then lets the man go and watches as he slumps to the floor unconscious and with a slack jaw that seems to fall away from his skull.  

The nomad looks at him broken on the wooden floor then his eyes shift to the two drunks waiting behind. He doesn't have to say a word, the look and what they just witnessed in front of their eyes tells them. 'Go' his eyes say, and they scamper off around the tables knocking drinks flying and leaving their friend. 

Lettie watches the newcomer step over Gains unmoving body and around a broken chair to where she stands. His face blank once again, showing no emotion. 

He nods to her, "About that room?" 

"Sure, sure. Em, right. Here's the key, did you want me to show ya where it is?" Lettie asks.

"No, I think I'll find it." He turns to go before looking back at her. "It's been a long walk. Some food would be nice?" 

"Of course, I'll get right on it..." she pauses. "Nomad."

He nods again, turns and makes his way towards the stairs. 

Flustered, Lettie lets out a breath she'd been holding. "That was... I really don't know." She shakes her head and turns to find Ernie. "There you are, get the man some food ready, eh?" 

All Ernie does is nod. No words, only a nod.

"Good. Get to it then," she shoo's him with a hand then turns to see every eye on her now. "What you looking at? I did tell Gain. But no, he wouldn't listen, would he?" She fixes her dresses, pulling them down how she liked it. "Rudy! A tune will ya!"

"Right ya are, Lettie," he shouts back and starts up a rowdy tune bringing back some sound to the saloon. 

Thanks for reading.