The sun beat down relentlessly over the golden fields.
Sam fanned his coarse linen shirt to keep himself cool as he approached the green haven that was the raspberry patch. Near the tall hedges bordering the patch, the grass turned from long dry stalks to an uneven short green carpet, fading to bare dirt under the rows of canes. The hedges protected from the wind but offered no protection from the harsh midday sun. Sam wished he could finish off this job later when it was cooler, but it was his last day and Old Mac wanted the rest of the harvest in before dark. Besides, he had plans for tonight after he collected the last of his money.
He started down the first row, searching under the bright green leaves for the deep red shade that only the ripest berries attained. It was near the end of the season and there weren't many young berries still coming through, few enough that Old Mac could pick them himself when he wanted. The bulk of the crop had been picked by Sam over the previous months and sold by the old farmer to the villagers. It wasn't great money, but Sam had managed to save enough to buy a ring from the travelling merchant. A ring he would give to his beloved tonight, as a promise of their future together.
Sam's basket got heavier as he picked. Three rows down, only five to go. The sun still glared directly overhead, alone in a bright blue sky. The ruby ring, he had decided. The merchant had several rings in different colours and designs, each telling its own story. The diamond was well out of his price range, the onyx too bulky, the sapphire too scratched. But the ruby ring was perfect, a deep blood red stone set in delicate twists of gold. He could just imagine it on his beloved's hand, matching her dark hair and eyes perfectly. She may not be the village beauty like her sister, but she was beautiful to him. And smart. She liked to tease him, but it was true – he just didn't have the head for sums and tricky things like she did.
What he did know was the land, and how to work it, which is all he needed to know for when he inherited the family farm. He also knew that his basket was nearly full, and he only had two more rows to go. He stretched his back, sore from bending under the canes, and shifted his basket to his other arm. He should get extra raspberries for his beloved tonight. He had it all planned out: after he picked up the ring he would take her for a walk out in the fields, as they often did when it got cooler and darkness fell. They would go to their usual spot, hidden behind a thick clump of bushes by the stream. But he would make it extra special tonight. He could picture her lying bare in the cool grass, taste her, creamy skin under his tongue as he kissed around the raspberries he had placed in the hollow of her throat, the tips of her breasts, the flat of her stomach, the –
A sudden eerie cry and a gust of hot wind shattered his pleasant reverie, making him stumble and drop his basket. The air seemed to suffocate him as it battered his face and the dirt scorched his bare feet as he struggled to turn away from the source of the noise. Over the wind he heard other cries coming from all directions, seeming to grow nearer as his heart raced. Whatever that cry was, it couldn't be good. He raised his head to make sure he was headed towards the old farm house when a female figure caught his eye through the dust. He didn't mean to look, just turn around and run away, but he couldn't get the message to his feet as she glided towards him. His father's words came back to him from all those years ago – "watch out for the noonwraiths, boy. If you're working alone in summer, you watch out for them. But you won't hear 'em coming, they're silent as an elf. Kill you slower, too. You watch out for them." But he never had found out how to watch out for them, and there hadn't been any sighted around their village for many years. Sam had certainly never seen one. If it definitely was a wraith, and if he escaped, he had to tell the ealdorman.
As the woman drew nearer the wind quietened to a gentle, swirling breeze and allowed him to see clearly. The woman was certainly not human – she was shrunken and burnt as brown as a nut, long wispy hair flying, bloodstains on her dirty white dress. Her face was sunken like a skull but her eyes shone bright as she called to him in a musical voice that echoed all around.
"Come away with me, young one... come away with the noonwraith!"
Too late, he tried to turn and run, but found that his feet were stuck and he couldn't seem to avert his gaze from those clear eyes that reached out to his soul and held it in thrall. He had one last desperate thought of his beloved and the ring he was meant to buy her before the wraith touched down gently in front of him. She tilted her head and reached out a long, clawed hand to his face.
He took a shaky breath. It was so hot, he couldn't think straight. The world seemed to glow brighter as he raised his hand in return for her to take. How had he ever thought her inhuman? Her face was smooth and unlined, sunlight sparkled from her hair. He wanted to run his hands over her silky dress that barely covered her lean form. His heart was now racing for a completely different reason.
"Come dance with us, handsome!"
She led him away, seeming to his eyes a youthful maiden, laughing with joy. He stumbled eagerly after her, still not in full control of his traitorous limbs. As they emerged from the raspberry canes he looked past his guide to see the many more beautiful young women gathering beyond in the bare field, all singing sweetly in angelic harmony.
As he entered their midst, one of the shining maidens skipped forward and took his other hand with a smile that made his heart rate increase further. He didn't know what this group of ladies were doing here, or how or why, and found he didn't care. He was floating blissfully in the sunlight and warmth. The figures moved smoothly into a large ring and started circling, slowly at first then increasing in pace. Sam was pulled around and around, growing more and more dizzy with each revolution. His heart was still hammering in his chest but he was unsure now if it was the beauties beside him or the exertion.
Faster and faster they spun, singing spiraling to and from dizzying registers. Sam was breathing hard and struggling to keep up with the rest when the group broke apart, snapping like a whip and sending Sam flying into a new figure, who grabbed his hands in an iron grip and swung him around, voice rising even higher. Feet barely touching the ground, vision blurred as the field spun around him, ears filled with the eeire wails of the wildly dancing group.
Sam lost all sense of direction as he was released and recaught by another dancer, or was it the same one? The only thing he could see beyond the yellow blur of field was his maiden partner's bright eyes, keeping him upright. Except she was no longer a maiden but the old, burnt, creature with brown skin strtched across her grinning, open-mouthed skull, emitting a ghostly wail from between pointed teeth. He was gasping for breath now, skin on fire, not knowing what was up or down or if he was still moving. Hands grasped his and slipped away, nails raking his palms leaving streams of blood. His vision dimmed as his heart raced to its limit, his ears filled with screeching cries of joy and ecstasy.
Then the sun burst and he was consumed by heat.
Gradually the cries from the wraiths faded away to echoes as they reluctantly slowed their mad dance and touched back down to the hard, sun-baked ground. One by one they silently drifted off, leaving the cold body of Sam lying in the middle of the cracked, scorched earth.