The Latigo

After finishing my final year of el Instituto I returned home with my graduation certificate. With a C1 level, able to take me to University.

Dad had renovated the outside of our homestead over the past year. It now had on three sides a large balcony, covered by equally large awnings to keep the Spanish sun at bay. A regal front entrance stairway leading to the main entry door. A fresh coat of paint applied inside and out made all the difference. In addition, dad had made repairs to the outbuildings. There was also a new steel three-car garage. Dad had extended the machinery shed to allow a new olive harvester, tractor and a quad bike.

I was looking forward to this year's Harvest festival. The Count paraded around the festival, showing off Ranaldo, his twelve-month old mijo. However, according to gossip throughout the village, the bambino appeared to have a fierce temper. The Countess has had to stop breastfeeding him because he continually bites her nipples, making them bleed. Again the highlight of the festival was the Latigo competition. This time Count Ramon presented the trophy.

I had decided to enrol at the University of Madrid to become a Civil Engineer. To celebrate entry to University, dad presented me with access to a bank account he had established when I was born. He explained, "I don't want you bothering me, asking, for spending money." He would still pay my university fees and cost of living. The first thing I did was buy a car, in this case, an excellent second hand Renault 16 TX to get me around. It went like a rocket.

********

I had six months to go on my Civil Engineering degree, and Mary had two years left on her Archaeology degree. Mary and I had met over a year earlier, and she had moved into my small one-bedroom flat six months ago when we became exclusive. I had met her parents, we all got along well.

This Christmas holiday was Mary's first visit to meet my mum and dad. Mary was immediately accepted by mum like the daughter she never had. Dad just went along with the flow. On St. Stephen's Day, I saddled up a pair of horses to show Mary around the farm. While on our ride I mentioned that over the preceding years, I had become very interested in agriculture and farming. Mary responded saying she found the open air of the farm much more appealing than the heavy air, noise and traffic of the city. While we rode around, I realised the farm was in bad shape - neglected grapevines, many weed's, and a drip watering system were virtually non-existent.

Six months later, Mary and I were back at the farm for the summer break. I decided, while waiting for Mary to finish her degree, I would do a two-year Agricultural degree. That way, Mary would complete her degree when I did, and we would be able to stay together.

With this thought, I made up my mind to ask Mary to marry me. Mum had given me her grandmother's family engagement ring - she said, "give it to the love of your life when the time comes." So we became betrothed and decided to wait another two years before getting married.

During that summer, my mother had taken a liking to Italian Prosecco sparkling wine - she suggested perhaps we could grow Prosecco grapevines on the farm. I said, "I would look into it."

Mary and I spent the last weeks of summer surveying the property together, using my theodolite, with Mary acting as my chainy*. We surveyed the waterways, gullies, hillsides, slopes and ridges. Took soil samples from every location to find the best place to grow grapevines. I came to the realisation the farm needed much work.

While Mary and I undertook this survey, we discovered a hidden valley some ten kilometres from the homestead. The entrance to the valley looked like any other - however, as we entered, the floor narrowed to two metres, then turned sharply to the left after ten metres. Straight ahead, some three hundred metres, was a solid rock wall forming a dead end. Both sides sloped steeply to create a deep 'V' of bare clay, no sign of vegetation. I estimated the ridge top to be some one-hundred meters from the valley floor and rising higher as we headed for the dead end.

Upon reaching the rock wall, we found a large crater some four metres across, perhaps two metres deep with a small pool of water at the bottom, fed by what may have been a waterfall. Obviously, at some time in the past a great deal of water must have flowed over the falls, but not for a very long time. Large jagged rocks of various sizes were spread in and around the crater, which appears to have fallen from above.

We didn't have time to do any further exploration, leaving that for another time. We did manage to survey the valley floor including the crater. Both, agreeing to keep this fine to ourselves for the time being. I promised myself that when I had time, I would follow the waterfall back to its source.

I wrote a report for dad outlining the various requirements to put the farm back into olive and wine production. Then, using a Computer-Aided Design program, I entered all the survey points and printed a topical graphical map for dad. Finally, I selected the best locations to grow grapevines.

Expecting dad to disregard my report, he took to it with much enthusiasm, especially with me continuing my education towards an Agriculture degree. Dad was willing to put up all the cash to improve the farm and was considering hiring a farm manager from the village. I think he liked the idea of being a gentleman farmer.

We visited the following Christmas. By now, I was halfway through my Agricultural degree, and Mary was in her last year.

Dad wanted to try to improve the lives of the local farmers and the village. There was no sewerage system in the town, each house had a small outhouse with a big pit. House water came from water tanks attached to their roofs. During drought time, water was brought in by truck to the township. In discussions with Count Ramon, they formed a plan - it so happened that, unknown to me, I was at the centre part of their design, being a Civil Engineer.

Again, Mary and I spent a few days doing a preliminary survey of the river bed for possible locations to build a dam across the Rio Alama. After completing the ground survey, I loaded all the details into a CAD program and printed topical graphical maps of the area for the village, dam sights. I left two maps with Dad, one for the Count. Then Mary and I headed back to University to finish our mutual degrees.

Before leaving, I complained to dad about the lack of mobile and internet coverage in the area. He said he had already discussed this with the Count, who had government connections. The Count would partition the federal Government for mobile phone coverage in the area, offering free land for the transmitting/receiving tower.

********

During the summer semester break, Mary and her class were off on an archaeology dig in Greece. So I decided to purchase some hundred Glera grafted vines used for the making of Prosecco wine.

I arrived at Prescott Estate, as we now call it. Dad preferred Estate to Hacienda. Manuel (the farm manager) and I spent a week planting out the vines on the sunniest side of the hill with drip irrigation fed by the water tank on top of our hill, which in turn filled by pumping water from the river. Dad has installed three, twenty-two thousand-litre plastic tanks only filled when the river was in flood once a year. The small weir held back enough water to pump into the local farmer's storage tanks for irrigation purposes.

After receiving our degrees, we got married in the University Chapel. It was a small ceremony with just a few of our uni friends, Mary's and my parents. We planned to spend our honeymoon on the French Riviera, visiting the usual tourist sites amongst other things for two weeks.

Mary

We arrived at Nice airport late in the evening and took a taxi to Westminster Hotel facing the Mediterranean Sea. Ordering from room service - a lite dinner with two bottles of Prosecco sparkling wine, we toasted our union, getting light-headed quickly.

I walked out onto the suite's private balcony overlooking the Promenade des Anglais. People were strolling, running, rollerblading, up and down just four floors below our room.

Switching off the room light, I was flooded with the illumination of the city. John came up behind me and held my waist, his fingers gently massaged my breasts, tweaking my nipples, making them hard as stone. I can feel my wetness quickly spread through my vagina.

His hands slipped to my waist, caressing my buttocks, then under my skirt and pulling down my knickers. I struggled and quietly protested, but he leant on my back, pushing me against the balustrade holding me in place as my panties dropped to the tiled floor. I stepped out of them. John used his knee to spread my legs. I can feel John maneuvering and his pants also join mine on the floor.

My heart is beating a mile a minute - I can't believe that my husband is taking me while we stand on the balcony overlooking the Prom. I was being introduced to the illicit thrill of public sex. Luckily it's night-time, but still, the people below could see us; all they had to do was just look up!

I can feel John's penis pushing against my bottom with no chance of entry. He shuffled back, pulling me with him. I bend at the waist, elbows resting on the balustrade. After a bit of wiggling, he finds my now very wet entrance, and his cock slowly slips down my love tunnel, coming to rest at my cervix. John quickly starts a back and forth tempo, and I find myself beginning to enjoy the sensation and arching my back, spreading my legs wider to get more of his cock inside me. Long forgotten are the people below - I close my eyes and enjoy John's lovemaking.

His finger finds my engorged clitoris and caresses it quickly, bringing me toward our mutual fulfilment. I put my hand over my mouth so as not to scream out my orgasm for all to hear. I felt John join me as he filled me with his liquid love.

Unfortunately, the two-week-long, sex-filled honeymoon came to an end, and we headed for Prescott Estate.

********

John

Dad and Count Ramon had worked together with the local Government to finalise plans and finance to construct a substantial dam across Rio Alama. Count de Bayona's family would supply one-third of the funding. The Prescott family was donating another third. Local Government budgeting for the final third. The villagers would provide the workforce for the project. However, a year slipped by with the local Government to-ing and fro-ing about funding.

Being the Civil Engineer in charge, I chose to design an Earth Dam as a cheaper alternative than concrete. In addition, making the top of the dam wide enough for a one-way road crossing would save fifteen minutes via the old wooden bridge crossing.

The advantage of an all earth dam is that it would allow water to seep from the downside dam wall to establish a reed bed, which would attract wild birds and many other water creatures making it environmentally friendly.

A sewerage recycling and dam drinking water filtering plant would be built near the main road and cleaned sewerage water fed into the reed bed. The dam would also have a concrete spillway to stop soil erosion in times of flood.

The Count allowed me to use a small shop facing the village square where I set up an office. Mary's help was indispensable as we trudge over the landscape surveying the area for dam and sewerage piping.

Mary also made drawings of the finished project. Including the main street mall square proposed by the Mayor. I printed copies and stuck them to the office front window for the villagers to see. Helping keep everyone focused on the challenge for the following year.

Count Ramon offered the assistance of his youngest daughter Francesca, who had recently acquired her bachelor's degree in accounting and is now a certified public accountant (CPA). She was seconded to do all the costing of the project and pay the bills as they came in.

Organising construction contractors for the Earth dam was both mine and Francesca's domain. She contacted the subcontractors as needed to build the dam wall and spillway. She also paid the bills as they came in, leaving me with the survey groundworks during construction. As a result, we developed a close working relationship over the year.

********

There was much merriment and celebration eleven months later in early summer as water built up behind the dam a wall with a small amount going over the spillway. Then, the Local Government officials finally arrived to cut the ribbon and announce the dam a success.

The project didn't stop there; the next phase was the sewerage pipeline connecting up all village homes and piping it to the newly established reed bed. The Mayor also petitioned Count Ramon to have the town square renovated, laying pavers and several bench seats. Willow and olive trees planted to provide shelter from the Spanish summer sun. A future project was the curbing and gutter of the village allowing gutter water to empty into the reed bed.

Mary and I had our own success story when she announced she was pregnant with our first. Mary's parents came to stay for a weekend at the Prescott Estate to celebrate our happy event.

In late summer, the harvesting season began, requiring all hands to complete, which usually takes a month. At the beginning of autumn, after harvesting, the village held a three-day holiday. The main event was the judging of the Harvest Festival Queen and then a parade down to the soccer oval where the festival took place every year. The usual activities are wine and olive tasting events, with judges picking out the winners. Hot and cold food, ice-cream stalls abound. Sideshow rides for the children.

Finally, judging of The Latigo competition. Rodriguez is the current champion.

Being my first year of entering the competition, I chose to use a single blade on my Latigo. Unfortunately, I finished tenth, second last. But it was fun. Running close behind me on points was the Counts youngest nine-year-old, Ranaldo. Rodriguez remained undefeated.

The day was one of those false summer days, warm, dry and sunny with a light soft breeze blowing. I saddled up a couple of horses. Mary packed a picnic lunch, and we set out for our hidden valley. We had found it while surveying the property a few summers back. It took about an hour to get to the entrance of the valley.

We rode in following the narrow pathway to arrive at the pool of water with a small carpet of grass on the water's edge. The remains of a waterfall could be seen in the rock face. There was only a tiny trickle now. Most likely, a seasonal waterfall is active in spring and summer when the snow melted, causing water flow over the fall.

Removing the horses' saddles, we left them to drink and graze. Then, we laid out our blanket and the grass and set out for the picnic. After a light lunch, we fell asleep on the blanket next to the pool.

Mary woke before me and started wandering around the area. She was some twenty metres away when I awoke, standing very still, staring blankly ahead towards the valley entrance. I walked carefully up to her, trying not to disturb her concentration, gently putting my hand on her shoulder to let her know I was there.

Suddenly she said, "Do you hear them screaming?"

Looking around the desolate valley, I couldn't hear a whisper of wind. It was eerily quiet and completely still. Finally, Mary said, "the screaming is all around us now." My eyes searched the hillsides, but nothing was obvious. Then, in her next breath, she said, "it's gone now." I noticed a light breeze had popped up.

Looking at me, Mary said, "it was like a recording playing back the sounds of a massacre which happened many years ago. We were in the right place, at the right time. It may never happen again."

I was still looking around, searching for some type of explanation. Then, I noticed a small shiny object on the ground a metre away. Picking it up, I rubbed the surface to appear to be a brass arrowhead. I spat on it and started scratching the surface.

Handing her the arrow, I said, "look what I found in the dirt".

She exclaimed, "you wonderful man. I'll give you a big surprise tonight." Then, kissing me on the cheek, turning it over in her hands, examining it.

We search for the next hour finding small scraps of metal, perhaps from helmets, shields or body armour. Finally, I suggest we purchase metal detectors and sweep the area for other items. With that, we packed up and headed home.

On the way, I asked if she had ever had another experience like the one today. Mary confessed when on that archaeology trip in Greece, the team were searching an old site of a major battle between the Greeks and Persians. At Thermopylae in ancient times, on the coastline. The battle took place over three days during the second Persian invasion of Greece.

Mary said, "The screaming and battle noise was so loud I freaked, asking the others if they could hear it. The other students looked at me like I was crazy. The loudness of the battle was overwhelming, and I realised I had to get away. Jumping a car, I drove a few kilometres down the road until I could no longer hear the cries of pain. After fifteen minutes, I drove back slowly, arriving at the site. I could no longer hear the battle sounds. All the other students asked me what was wrong? I realised it would be a mistake to try and explain, so I made out it was a practical joke. They all laughed, saying, 'you got us good!' However, the Professor looked like he didn't believe me."

As we neared the homestead, I asked Mary what her next step would be in discovering what happened in the hidden valley. First, she would search the Granada library history records to find out if there was any mention of battles in the area.

********

An incident happened a month later, which I was to regret for the rest of my life.

I was driving the farm truck to visit Count Ramon on business, deciding to start up a Civil Engineering firm. Unfortunately, the nearest other Civil Engineer was some two hundred kilometres away and never interested in travelling to the area.

I was 2km from the Count's villa when I came upon Ronaldo on the side of the road attacking a wild dog caught by one leg in a trap. Ten-year-old Ranaldo had a large knife with which he was stabbing the dog.

All the farmers hate wild dogs - they attack sheep, poultry and even farm dogs. But when trapped, they are put down quickly with a bullet, not stabbed to death with a knife, left to bleed out, enduring a slow, painful death.

The dog was all but dead when I got out of the truck. Ranaldo looked pleased with what he had done. I was so enraged I grabbed the knife, breaking the blade using the steel side of the truck. He was surprised by my action and started blaspheming. I responded with a clip around his ear. He then yelled, "I'm going to tell my father the Count what you have done." He took off running toward his father's villa, cursing me loudly.

I remove the now dead dog from the trap, covered with multiple stab wounds. I tossed the carcass into the back of the truck and proceeded to drive to the Count's villa to explain my actions. Damn the consequences.

The Count was waiting for me on the front steps of his villa when I pulled into the parking area. He had a stern look upon his face. I was still angry and pulled the dog from the truck, dropping it at his feet. I was about to explain my actions when he waved away my words, saying, "you do not need to explain, Juan."

I could see the rest of the family looking out the front windows. Francesca stood under the portico.

Speaking surprisingly quietly, the Count carried on, "the boy has overstepped his bounds, and he will be suitably disciplined."

I then went on to explain my visit. "With the success of the village Earth dam, I have had several farmers enquiring if I could design small dams for irrigation purposes. So I aim to establish a Civil Engineering firm."