Living Ink Books
Matterhorn landed like a sack of dirt.
His stomach arrived a few seconds later.
He sat up and rubbed his neck. In the noonday sun he saw they were near the edge of a sloping meadow. The velvet grass was dotted with purple and yellow flowers. Sweet smelling azaleas bloomed in rainbows around the green expanse. The black-faced sheep mowing the far end of the field paid no attention to the new arrivals.
“Are you okay?” the Baron asked. “We’ll have to work on your landing technique.”
“How about warning me when we’re going somewhere,” Matterhorn grumbled.
The Baron helped him up and checked his pack to make sure nothing was damaged. He scanned the landscape in all directions from beneath the brim of his red corduroy baseball cap. “It makes no difference which way we go,” he said at last. “The horses will find us.”
“The horses that will take us to the one we came to see.”
“Are you always this vague or do you just not know what you’re doing?”
“I don’t know much, but I suspect this is somebody’s field. We don’t want to be caught trespassing. Let’s go.”