MINDY
Copyright©2003 by Ed Howdershelt
ISBN 1-932693-15-7
Caution: Some Erotic Content
A Quick Introduction
I had work-related reasons -- an understatement of the situation -- to leave Germany for a while. While we were working on a drug bust that spanned three countries, I was a witness to a murder. The Turkish "suspect" had escaped arrest, so I was ordered back to the U.S. for safekeeping.
My employers had placed me on indefinite standby due to the politics involved, so I visited family near Dallas, Texas, to wait until I was summoned to testify or work elsewhere.
In Germany, I had been involved with a group of people who camp out and play in the woods with homemade armor, swords, and shields. When I discovered a similar group in the Dallas/Ft.Worth area, I was happy to get reinvolved.
At one of this group's events in Grapevine, Texas, I met a lady -- renamed Mindy for the purposes of this story -- and her best friend, renamed Diane.
These ladies were not shy little flowers; they appropriated me for the weekend and we managed to blend our own events into those already in progress.
Chapter One
A Midsummer Renaissance-Reenactment Event in Texas is a hot and dusty affair, but most everybody manages to have a good time while trying to dress and act as they believe people would have in the middle ages and related times.
It should probably also be noted that many of us use such events as excuses to get out and party at a campground on long weekends.
After a few hours of trading techniques with some of the other "knights" at just such an event, I put down my sword and shield near the tavern booth and started peeling off my homemade armor as the "tavern wench" filled my mug with "ale" (probably Lone Star beer) from a concealed tap.
By three in the afternoon I'd had enough pummeling and pounding in the heat. I was off the lists, anyway; these had been personal-challenge matches that could get you noticed, but weren't worth real brownie points toward rank.
A pleasant feminine voice from behind me asked, "Need some help with those straps?" I noted that she wasn't using the archaic, 'thee & thou' form of English and figured she was taking a break from it all, too.
I turned to see a rather tall blonde in a green dress standing with hands clasped behind her, a questioning look in her lovely green eyes that were nearly level with my own. What I could see of her arms and shoulders told me she was neither skinny or fat under that heavy, Elizabethan-style costume.
"No, thank you, milady," I said, yanking two wide, noisy straps to release my chest armor and let it fall off. "I use Velcro."
Damn, it felt good to be rid of the extra weight.
I stretched and reached for my beer as I said, "But I'd be happy to help you with your armor, ma'am. How do women spend all day in those outfits in this heat? May I get you something?" I waved at the tavern booth.
"We don't stay in them all day, of course," she said, and nodding at my beer, added, "One of those would be nice. Your armor isn't made of steel, is it?"
"Nope. Aluminum. More precisely, old road signs, personally recycled."
I lifted a piece of shoulder plate to show her the underside of what once was a 'one-way' sign, then ordered her a beer.
"Interesting," she said. Her left eyebrow arched slightly as she continued, "What we do in the name of fun, that is."
She made a point of noticing that her bodice needed re-tied and busied herself with performing that task while awaiting my next comment. As expected, I watched her tie it as I answered her.
"If you mean making armor to wear while performing strenuous combative exercises or wearing heavy, Elizabethan-style costumes in the middle of a Texas summer, then, yes, it is. If what you really meant was, 'did I steal a bunch of road signs', then the answer is no, I didn't. They were all damaged and replaced."
She smiled slightly, tightened and patted her new bow knot into place between her breasts, and then, as if slightly shocked by her own suspicions, said, "Well, far be it from me to question the honor of a knight, sir. How might I make it up to you?"
I pretended to have to think about that for a moment, then said, "Well, milady, if you truly wish to atone, you could accompany me to the feast tonight. I could then focus on your loveliness and ignore the banality and bravado so common to such events. Even the king would have to forgive my inattention if a woman as lovely as you were to be my companion at the feast table."
She assimilated my answer for a moment, then grinned and said softly, "Oooo, that came out very well indeed. And with a straight face, too."
"Aha, you think it's a line. Well, consider; the king has a brand-new girlfriend, so I'm not too worried about incurring much of his attention, anyway, and since you truly are very lovely and people can definitely be very banal at feasts, I can't think that even one word was misspoken."
The lady regarded me in silence for a moment, then said, "It was still a line of fluff, milord, but I liked it. Certainly, sir, I'd be happy to accompany you to the feast. If I may bring a lady friend, that is." She made a small curtsey.
With a look of doubt, I asked, "A chaperone?"
Smiling slightly, she said, "No, just a friend."
I took her hand as it was offered for a kiss and felt a familiar mental nudge as her name came to me during our touching.
"Mindy," I said. "A lovely name. I'm Ed."
Some people don't react well to being identified by touch, but Mindy handled it well enough. She didn't try to break contact by jerking away, but she tensed and her eyes narrowed a bit.
"That's a cute trick," she said, "But you could have overheard it or asked someone about me."
"Absolutely possible," I said, "I'd imagine that many have asked about you. Green eyes, blonde hair, vastly beautiful... Yeah, I'm pretty sure they have."
Her skepticism remained unabated.
After a moment's hard gaze, she said, "That approach probably scares some people, you know."
I smiled and said, "No problem. I didn't approach you, you approached me, and it only scares the uninteresting people. Those who can think have to question unusual things. Fearful people -- and those who don't think or question -- are generally rather dull company."
Mindy digested this bit of opinion for a moment.
"Well, I'm not afraid of you and I'm questioning. Are you going to tell me how you got my name?"
Shrugging, I said, "You saw it happen. Test me on someone you know I've never met."
Mindy regarded me carefully for a moment or two as she sipped her beer.
"I'll do that. Bet on it. Got any other tricks?"
"Tricks? Well, no... But would you settle for a treat, instead?"
I saw an 'Oh, no, here comes the REAL bullshit' look cross her face and grinned.
She sighed and asked, "A treat? Dare I ask what that might be?"
"No need. I'll tell. You also sort of told me you like gin and bitter lemon or lime. I know who has some gin I can trade for and we can liberate a lime from the feast table." Shouldering my armor, I added, "Let's dump this stuff at my tent and wander around a bit."
Mindy didn't bat an eye. She simply picked up my sword and said, "We can get some clean ice and cups at my tent."
She gave me an 'I'll see your bet and raise you' look. I smiled in return, then we started walking toward my tent.
Did I mention it was hot? It had to be a hundred degrees in the shade, but there were a couple of "knights" battling with swords and shields as we passed the field. Mindy didn't seem at all interested, which made me wonder what about me had caught her attention.
I'm not one of those overly-muscled hunks at 6'2" and 178 pounds, and since my day had largely been spent on the battlefield, she couldn't have noticed either my sparkling personality or incisive intellect. Or even my gracious modesty, I suppose.
We didn't talk much as we made our way to my tent, but as I was changing my shirt she asked, "What else do you think you pick up about me?"
Taking a moment to douse my head and chest with cool water before answering, I said, "You're 34, single, have no kids, and I saw a half-finished painting that seemed to belong to you, so I think you're an artist."
I saw her eyes widen in my shaving mirror as I dried myself, but when I turned, she pretended skepticism and fanned herself with an events-program.
"You're saying you saw a painting when you touched me?"
"Yup, something Egyptian-looking, with bright colors. On a stand."
"An easel," she said, "Don't you have any doubts? That maybe you might be just a little bit wrong about some small thing along the line?"
"Not this sort of thing, and I really would like to see that painting."
"Why?" she asked skeptically, "Just to see if there really is one?"
Shaking my head, I said, "Nope."
I could see she was having trouble adding things up.
"So you're into Egyptian art?" she asked.
I grinned slightly. "No, not particularly."
"Then why do you want to see it?"
As I buttoned my shirt, I smiled and said, "Because it's in your apartment, milady, and seeing it would mean being there with you, and that would mean you think well of me."
Mindy laughed aloud.
"Think well of you?" She laughed again and asked, "Think well of you? You think I'd take you home with me because I think well of you?"
When her laughter abated, I said, "Well, you certainly wouldn't if you didn't, would you?"
"Oh, well, no, I guess not. That's a good point, Ed."
"You'll consider letting me see that painting, then?"
She laughed again.
At my questioning look she said, "Oh, it's just that you seem to be trying to con ME into asking YOU to come up and see MY etchings."
I summoned up my most innocent, thoughtful look and said, "Yes, well, I suppose it could appear that way, couldn't it?"
If anything, Mindy's laughter increased. She grabbed my towel to dry her face and sat with her face buried in the towel as she laughed some more.
A rather portly woman passing by saw her apparently sobbing into a towel and stormed over with a couple of similarly-indignant friends to ask in a rather accusatory tone if everything was alright.
I grinned innocently and shrugged. Mindy looked up, saw them apparently prepared to draw and quarter me for supposed offenses of word or deed, and howled with laughter, falling backwards off the cooler.
She wound up wedged between the tent screening and the cooler. I moved to help her up, but she caught sight of the three women looking pretty damned confused, and the gales of laughter started all over again. I settled for helping her to lie on her side behind the cooler for the moment.
The three women drifted slowly away with the kind of glances normally reserved for people of dubious sanity.
As her laughter began to fade, I handed Mindy a freshly dampened towel and asked, "Are you gonna survive this?"
She rolled flat on her back and breathed deeply. Elizabethan costumes tend to lend themselves well to deep-breathing, I noted with appreciation.
Mindy noted my appreciation. "What? Am I untied or something?"
"Ah, no. I was just, um..., entranced by your costume."
"Entranced, huh? Oh, well, you're supposed to be. These outfits do show a lot of cleavage, don't they?" She glanced down her front.
"Well, now that you call my attention to it..."
"Oh, shut up," she said, "You'll get me started laughing again." I helped her back up onto the cooler, where she sat recovering for a few moments, then asked, "Now, what about those drinks?"
"We'll go see Lodnar and see what he has in stock."
"Lodnar? He's one of the knights, isn't he?"
"Yup. He's also the guy to talk to if you run out of booze during an event. Kind of a sideline business."
People were staring at us as we wandered in search of Lodnar's tent. Some of the ladies giggled as we passed, so it seemed reasonable that a tale had not only been told, it had likely been embellished a bit in each telling.
"What do you think they heard?" I asked Mindy.
"Something more than the truth, from the sound of them."
"Seems likely. Do we want to do anything about it?"
"What's to do? They'll believe what they want, right or wrong."
Lodnar was in his tent with two other 'knights', discussing something to do with the evening's festivities. I made a deal with him for a bottle of gin - all he had that was smaller than a quart - and then we dropped by Mindy's tent for ice.
A husky guy still half-dressed in armor was standing just inside the tentflap, facing the interior. I glanced at Mindy. Was this guy an old, or a current, boyfriend?
Mindy reached through the tentflap and slapped his armored leg to secure his attention.
Her action reminded me of someone handling a horse in a stall, and her tone was demanding as she asked, "Bryce, why the hell are you in our tent? Where's Diane?"
"Diane told me that somebody told her you were in trouble in some guy's tent. Is this the guy?"
He sounded eager to do something, anything, on her behalf as he started toward us.
"Bryce, stay," commanded Mindy sharply.
Bryce's eyes narrowed, but he froze in place.
Mindy said, "I wasn't in trouble and it obviously wasn't this tent in any case. This guy's a friend. Now, where's Diane?"
"She's a feast volunteer," he replied sullenly, "She's busy at the tables." After a slight pause, he added, "She's too good for that kind of work."
"We all take a turn at the tables, Bryce. Why don't you go tell her I don't need rescued? Ed and I'll go over there a little later."
The guy glared at me as he pushed past me and left the tent, fairly stomping down the trail. I looked at Mindy, but she waved me off.
"Before you say anything, I wasn't too hard on him. He's been after Diane and/or me for a year or so, and he has a talent for being a real ass. And he was about to try to heroically impress me just now, using you."
"I gathered that. Mind telling me why you can order him around the way you did? He didn't like it, but he followed orders."
"He knows I can take him, for one thing. He'd love for me to take him, in another sense. Or Diane; he'd be happy with either of us. It'll never happen, though. I hate the way Diane uses him as a choreboy at events, which just keeps his hopes up. That can make people mean when they've had enough of it. I don't encourage him at all."
"But could be he's just an adoring fan because you and Diane are both beautiful. Can't fault him too much for admiring you, can you?"
Mindy studied me for a moment as if wondering if I were fishing for information, then said, "Yes. Diane's very good looking. Did you pull that out of my head, too?"
Cold and sharp, the first slug of gin-laced Coke raced to the bottom. It wasn't what I usually drink, but wasn't too bad, surprisingly enough. I reminded myself to be careful.
"No," I said, "It was a real, live guess. You're beautiful, but you aren't the kind of woman who'd run around with someone less beautiful just for the sake of comparison. That didn't necessarily add up to Diane being beautiful, too, but if she weren't, I doubt Bryce would be too concerned about where she was working."
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