Pawel watched her from across the smoke filled tavern, slightly drunk
and more than a little curious. Her strumming on the lute was beautiful,
but not nearly as much as her lustrous red hair or her curving ample
bosom, framed deliciously by her daringly open white shirt and simple
woven vest. Pawel knew, right then, that he had to at least talk to her,
to meet her. He continued to drink as she continued to play and sing,
and it was plainly clear that he wasn't the only one in the crowd who
appreciated her for more than just her music. As the evening progressed,
and he went from his second beer to his third, the crowd around him
gradually grew more raucous.
Her voice began to have difficulty
overcoming the generally noise of the crowd, and was thoroughly drowned
out when they shifted to catcalls and cheering at the end of every song.
Finally it was clear she'd had enough, and she stood, yelling "This is
the last song, you dirty rascals!" and began to sing.
"A dragon
has come to our village today," she sang loud and clear, and applause
broke out as the crowd recognized one of their favorite drinking songs.
"We asked him to read but he won't go away," she continued. "He's met
with our king..." she made a rude gesture with her hand, tongue in
cheek, implying certain indiscretions on the part of the King, "And
they've worked out a deal." She began thrusting her hips as the crowd
laughed and hollered. "No homes will be burned, and no crops will he
steal."
She began the next stanza, "Now there's just one catch,
we dislike it so much." Her head shaking, "Twice a year he invites a hot
virgin to lunch!" She laughed and bent slightly, allowing the Pawel and
the crowd an improved perspective down her blouse. "Well," she
straightened again, drawing out the note, "we've no other choice and
we've had to much drink," she drank a long draught of ale, and the crowd
drank with her. "But still this decision has caused me to think."
She
paused again, pondering, as the crowd took up the chorus. "Do virgins
taste better than those who are not? Are they saltier, sweeter, more
juicy or what?" The crowd roared on, most horribly out of tune and
laughing as the girl lewdly depicted eating a virgin. "Do you savor them
slowly, or gulp them down on the spot?" From their reactions to her
dance, the crowd wouldn't particularly complain at either option. "Do
virgins taste better than those who are not?"
The song
continued, but Pawel knew that if he wanted to speak with her, he'd have
to be in just the right place, at just the right time. He slipped from
his perfect spot to watch her and moved away, to the very end of the
bar. Right where she would come out and sit, ready for a drink. He'd buy
her one first, and maybe even buy some time before the crowd surged in
and took all her time. First impressions, and all that.
