|Imagine this big enough for seven guys to splash in.|
I only meant to be away for a month, and now that I'm finally back I find the official Six Sentence Sunday has announced that it will soon come to an end. I've not only got all my stuff but moved across the country, so changes are everywhere.
This segment picks up a bit after the last one. The travelers have come to Barbadillo and Lambra is meeting the head of the estate, Ermenegildo Antolínez:
* * *
He kissed her hand deferentially. “You have my fealty, doña Lambra.”
“Thank you, don Ermenegildo. We’ve come all the way from Burgos. Would you be so kind as to show us where we will be eating and sleeping?”
Before she had finished her last sentence, the seven brothers had abandoned all solemnity and darted to the fountain, where, like dogs, they washed the dust from their faces and drank out of their cupped hands, then splashed each other and made such a noise that the hunting hounds emerged from the hills, barking and howling.
“You would never know that the oldest of them is a score and five years old,” Ermenegildo Antolínez said, waving the rest of the travelers toward the farmhouse.
* * *
Not to spoil anything, but this is the calm before the storm.
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