Indian Wife Shared

I’ve never seen anything so fine as the guardsmen that have come to take me safely to Prince Ajan. They are all well muscled men, eight of them. They wear outfits of the finest black silk, loose fitting pants and open black vests that show off their strong chests. Their skin is tanned from the sun and every now and again I detect a faded scar barely marring the perfection of their bodies. Four of them bear a palanquin, a beautiful traveling cart for me to ride in, which they lower enough for me to board. The other four flank the front and back of the cart, and I see they are the ones that bear wicked-looking scimitars at their side. I pull back the curtains of the palanquin, and step inside. The tiny space is adorned with plush silk curtains for me to sit upon during the journey, and there is a small carafe of wine and a goblet for my use. There is a moment’s jostling as the palanquin is hoisted onto the shoulders of the men, and then we start to proceed. I pour myself a glass of. The farm house proved to be small and new-looking with a curl of smoke coming from its stone chimney. The man who came out the front door to meet me carried a shotgun and a mean look."What do you want?" he yelled."Miller?" I asked."Josh Miller," he said as I dismounted."I'm seeking food for the army, the Continental army," I said."Keep moving on. I ain't got none to spare." Been an accident," I said, jerking my thumb over my shoulder, "back yonder; came to tell you."He cocked his head and waited."Women said you were his son. He's dead," I said, "your father. Broke his neck, fell on the back steps."The man leveled his shotgun at me."You kill him?" he asked with unblinking eyes.I shook my head. "He missed a step, cracked his head and died. Did he drink?" None a'your business," the son said, the gun unwavering."Just thought I'd tell you," I said, sticking my toe in the stirrup."Wait," he said, "I'll ride back with you." I waited and we rode back, him behind me, shotgun in his lap,.
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