It was the reaping season and all the men and everyone else they could grab were out in the fields bringing in the crop. My mother and I were at home in the farm house, preparing meals so that we could feed the hungry horde when they descended. Normally it would be my mother doing it, with a maid to help her, while I sweated it out in the fields, but this year I was officially in mourning and my father thought it would be best if I stayed home.
My fiancé had died the previous week. We were due to be married as soon as the harvest was in, then there was this tragic accident. Bob, my fiancé, owned a bull. It was a very large, incredibly vicious bull with a really savage temper. This bull was the sort of animal that other bulls ran away from. Bob was very proud of his bull. He said that it was really gentle as a lamb. You just needed to know how to handle him.
It seemed to work for Bob. He'd walk up to the bull, put a hand on its nose, and lead it around. The trouble was that Bob was like the bull in one way. He also had a savage temper. He was proudly walking the bull out to the fields one day when the bull stepped on his foot. Bob swore and slapped him. Witnesses say the bull stopped, looked at Bob, swore, and slapped him back. With his hind leg. Then with his front legs. His horns. They say at the end the silly animal was jumping up and down on Bob using all four feet.
To cut a long story short, there wasn't much left of Bob when they scraped him off the ground. It wasn't so much a closed casket funeral as a closed bucket. They came to break the news to me and then my mother made me go to bed. It seems I was hysterical when they told me about the tragic accident.
They assumed hysteria because I was laughing so hard. Bob finally tangled with something more vicious than him. Mourn Bob? Don't make me laugh. He was a cantankerous old buffoon with a vicious temper and a lot of money. He didn't woo me, because he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere. He got his clutches into my father's finances and offered to forgive all debts if I agreed to marry him. Some choice I was given, being only a female and all.
Normally I'd have been married straight away once the dowry was settled. Unfortunately my grandfather died, which was a great blessing to all who knew him, and I was able to enter a year of mourning. I was also able to insist on no sex before we were married, because he might change his mind afterwards.
As it was, after the year of mourning was up I was able to defer things a bit longer because of the upcoming harvest. It was agreed that the wedding would take place as soon as the harvest was in.
"The girl has turned eighteen now," pointed out Bob. "Getting a bit old, you know. Want her young enough for children."
So harvest was on us and I was sweating blood about the thought of marrying the old bastard and then the bull did him in. I love that bull. Still, officially I was in mourning which meant I was doing light work at home and not slaving out in the fields. Another thing I owe to that bull.
It was the middle of the day when a couple of riders arrived at the farm house. They dismounted and called out to let us know they were there. My mother and I came to the door to see what they wanted.
Wow. You should have seen these two guys. They were huge, with big muscles and big weapons and big smiles. One of them was white with the reddest red hair I've ever seen, while the other guy was really strange. He was black, would you believe? I've heard of black people but I'd never actually seen one.
"Ah, if you're looking for work," said my mother, "you'll need to see my husband. He's out in the fields bringing in the crop. Just continue down the lane for another mile and you'll see where they're working."
The guy with the red hair seemed to shudder at the idea.
"Ah, farm work is not really our style, ma'am," he said. "We just stopped on the off-chance that we could get something to eat that we don't have to cook. We don't mind paying."
He was flicking a coin as he spoke and I could see the glint of gold. As far as we were concerned a gold coin would buy them meals for a month or more.
My mother dithered for a moment but she was watching that coin like a hawk. She finally nodded.
"Yes, well I suppose there's no reason why we shouldn't give you a meal. I do have a pot of stew on right now. Ah, I'm Muriel Everglade and this is my daughter, Eva. What sort of work do you do?"
Banditry, was my immediate thought.
"That's very kind of you ma'am," said Red. "Catch."
He flicked the coin and mother caught it.
"Oh, really, there's no need to pay us," she said, but I noticed she wasn't handing it back.
"I insist, ma'am. By the way, the name's Red."
That figured. I looked at the black man, an eyebrow raised. I'm good at that. I lift one brow and it asks all sorts of questions.
"Guess," said the black man, grinning. "He's Red and I'm. . .?"
He left the question hanging.
"Black?" I asked. He had to be kidding me.
"Blake Ashertongowtre, actually, but I'm more generally known as Black Ash, or just plain Black. You can see why he's called Red. I don't know his real given name and his family name is unpronounceable so we just call him Red Fire."
"As for work," said Red, "We're what you would call gentlemen adventurers. We go around looking for excitement and profit, lending a hand to people in trouble."
"Alternatively," said Black, "some people call us barbarians and a scourge let loose on a civilized world, but we ignore them."
"Why are you in this area?" I asked. "There's not much in the way of excitement or profit around here."
"We're just passing through. A bandit gang robbed a temple and got away with a lot of gold and jewels. The priests have asked us to recover it."
"Oh. Rather dangerous I'd have thought."
"They should have thought of that before they robbed the temple," said Black, smiling comfortably.
"Um, I meant for you, actually," I said, feeling embarrassed when they gave me a pitying look. Were they arrogant or confident? Looking at them I had to say confident.
Mother invited them in and showed them into the small room we use for feeding occasional visitors. These weren't the first couple to drop by to scrounge a meal, although normally it would be neighbours passing and feeling hungry.
Red followed my mother into the kitchen and I could hear them talking, while Black talked to me, telling me about some of their adventures. If one were to believe in dragons, then I had the honour of meeting a pair of dragon slayers.
"And if I don't believe in dragons?"
"Then you are a poor under-educated hick with no romance in your soul," Black informed me.
About them Red came back in and sat down at the table.
"Fought many dragons lately?" I asked him.
"No such things," he promptly said.
I looked at Black, who was covering his face with his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter.
OK. I retired to the kitchen, returning shortly with a couple of big bowls of stew and a couple of loaves of bread. I thought men their size would need a full loaf each.
It turned out they could also go through several bowls of stew each. I revised downwards the amount of meals that gold coin would cover. They ate like a couple of horses.
Eventually they finished and I cleared away the dishes while they sat back and relaxed. When I came back in Red rose to his feet and stretched.
"We'll be on our way shortly," he said. "Black, why don't you go back and personally thank Mrs Everglade for the delightful meal?"
Black rose with a grin and departed in the direction of the kitchen.
"There was no need for that," I said. "I'd have passed your thanks on."
Red grinned, grabbed my arm and pushed me so I was bent over the table. That done he was hauling up my skirts, pushing them right up until my bottom was on display. At that point his hand landed on my bottom and started caressing it.
