Page 116 of Down and Dirty

“Will we see you sometimes? Can we call?” his mother asked.

He shook his head. “Cold turkey.”

“For how long?” His father’s voice was cold with disapproval.

“As long as it takes.”

“Years?” His mother looked as if she was going to cry.

“I hope not, but yes, maybe it will be a long time.”

“When are you leaving?” Danny’s face was expressionless, but he was clearly upset. He would talk to him later.

He couldn’t tell them that it would be in a mere three days. Otherwise, there would be a flurry of suspicious activity around his house. They wouldn’t be able to stay away.

So he just shrugged.

Later, he told Sammy of his plans.

The boy was frightened, but more frightened of losing him than losing a familiar home. He became more enthused once Zach mentioned all the things they would be able to do together in the downtime till he found a new job… or they were able to return, whichever came first.

Before they went downstairs, though, Sammy tugged on his arm to stop him. “Does… does this mean Britta is dead?”

Zach closed his eyes briefly. “Yes. Yes, she is, Sammy.”

Sammy gulped, probably having already suspected the worst. “Now can I tell you what she said?”

Bracing himself, he said, “Sure.”

“She said, if she didn’t make it back, I should tell you,” he slipped his hand in Zach’s, “that she loves you.”

It was probably the worst moment of Zach’s life.

Who says medieval ladies didn’t have balls?…

Britta and Angelique got along like… well, sisters.

Turns out that their mutual father, whilst on a trip to Frankland some twenty-three years past, went into the Frankish countryside where he raped a number of women, including Angelique’s mother. Like Britta, Angelique had trained to become a warrior, but unlike Britta, she had trained to be a nun as well.

While Britta had reason to want her father dead, Angelique had even more. Not only had he planted his seed in her mother, but he’d also planted a disease in her nether parts… a disease that led to her death at the age of fifteen. Angelique’s life had been hard, to say the least, but Britta loved her already for her wonderful sense of humor despite her travails.

“So, you are like Boudicca?” Britta asked her as they sat on a stone wall surrounding the abbey courtyard. They were both panting and sweating, having just completed some swordplay. “That’s not very nunlike, is it?”

Angelique grinned as she wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her gunna. “We are a different breed of nuns… nuns who enjoy the bedsport.”

Britta’s eyes went wide.

“Do not look so shocked. Are you a virgin?”

“Well, nay, but—”

Angelique wagged a forefinger at her. “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” She grinned as she spoke. “In truth, I am not really a nun. ’Tis a disguise that has worked well for me and my followers.”

Britta laughed and slapped the forefinger out of her face. “I was not judging, and you well know it. I was just surprised. But, believe you me, I know how to wipe that smirk from your face, Sister.”

A short time later, Angelique’s jaw dropped nigh to her bosom. “Multiple orgasms? Clits? You jest with me?”

“’Tis no jest. The women of our time are being cheated.”