Retirement, Day 10

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"Vlad, what are you doing?"

 

I looked up from the bottom of the hole I'd been digging to see Lucifer lounging against an unoccupied stake in a virulently colored Hawaiian shirt and his ever-present cargo shorts. Leaning against my shovel, I wiped the sweat streaming down my face with my forearm. Then I straightened my Bork hat--an old gift from Mehmed--and answered the rather obvious question.

 

"Digging a moat."

 

Lucifer blinked. "Digging. A. Moat."

 

I didn't dignify that incredulous statement with a response. I simply stared up at him.

 

"Dare I ask why?" He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his cargo shorts.

 

"Border control. Defense."

 

"You couldn't just install a home security system?"

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I raised an eyebrow. Sometimes the old ways were the best ways. Lucifer held up his hands in surrender.

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"How long have you been at it?"

 

The sun barely crested the roofs of the houses across the street. I shrugged, unwilling to admit just how early I'd woken to get started before the heat of the day began. I blamed all the centuries on the darkness of Hell--my circadian rhythms were shot.

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"Get out of the hole, Vlad," Lucifer said mildly.

 

I clambered out. When I glanced down at my work disappointment filled me. I'd maybe dug out a two by two square to a depth of perhaps six feet. I snagged the towel that Anastasia provided me and wiped my bare torso clean of dirt and sweat. I slung it around my neck and turned back to face Lucifer.

 

"I expected to have made more progress," I told him.

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"Uh huh."

 

"I don't have much personally experience with moat digging."

 

"You don't say."

 

"Disloyal nobles are in rather short supply these days," I told him, defensive.

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"You could just hire people," he offered. 

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I narrowed my eyes. "That sounds complicated." And expensive.

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Lucifer stepped away from the stake to join me at the edge of the hole. The dirt formed a small hill before it, blocking sight of the sidewalk. "Why a moat?"

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"How else am I going to deter solicitors?" And obnoxious neighbors with wretched dogs.

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"Dobermans, trap door, cannon, boiling oil, flaming arrows," Lucifer said, ticking off each option on his fingers.

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"You'd allow that?"

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He shrugged. "If they're trespassing...," Lucifer trailed off with a faint grin.

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