"Another hot one today, isn't it Coris?"
"Sure is Alpalto, sure is. No good for the potatoes, this weather."
"No, Coris, sure isn't. Gotta be colder for potatoes, you know."
"Yup Alpalto, it better start getting' cooler or we're in for trouble when it's time to harvest the little guys."
"Right you are Coris."
The two men bent to their labors, plucking pesky caterpillars from their precious potatoes and uprooting weeds, in companionable silence, until the sun started to reach its zenith.
"Say Alpalto," said Coris as he stood up to take a breather.
"What is it Coris?" Alpalto replied, taking a break as well.
"What do you think happened with that bloody madman from a few days back?"
Alpalto thought it over carefully, then spat into his potatoes.
"Nothing good Coris, nothing good. Fella like that's bad news no matter where he goes. I'm just glad he didn't stop by us."
"I reckon you're right Alpalto," Coris said.
"Why are you bringing that up anyway, Coris? Little spooked?"
Coris' red face grew a bit more flushed. "Well, maybe just a tad. He was real bad news Alpalto, you know."
"Sure was Coris, sure was. But I don't reckon we'll see him again. That kook's probably well to the west by now, if he survived this heat wave without shelter or help," Alpalto said, then crouched down to his potatoes again.
"Yeah, I guess you're right Alpalto," Coris said, and returned to his crop as well.
The men worked a short time before a noise disturbed their thoughtless labor. It was a sweet noise, the sound of a young lady chattering happily from the east. The men looked up from their work to greet the lovely traveler, but another sound made their flushed cheeks turn ashen grey.
The clanking of heavy armor.
"Oh dear God, Alpalto, it can't be," Coris said, a tremble in his voice.
Alpalto peered east, shading his eyes from the sun. "…I don't know, Coris…this one is not red," he said. "But that stature. And that sword…there's two women with him."
Coris looked as well, and saw that, indeed, there was no crimson knight, but a knight in gleaming armor instead, with washed and long blonde hair and a clean-shaven face, coming up the road from the west. Beside him was a blonde and lovely young lady, wearing bright clothing and a small sword and shield. Behind them both was a serious-faced but equally beautiful woman, black hair tied back in a ponytail, wearing a skin-tight body suit.
The knight carried a massive blade. While he looked almost nothing like that terrible crimson figure, and seemed the picture of nobility, the sword condemned him. It had to be the same man.
But now he traveled with two women, and was cleansed and pure.
As the man and the two women drew closer, Coris noticed one more detail that chilled his heart.
The man's eyes were dead, but for a glimmer of something mad, a mixture of hunger and hope.
Just like the crimson knight that haunted Coris' dreams since he saw him.
The young and pretty girl chattered in a rough tongue Coris did not know, and occasionally the man would nod and make some curt reply. By and by, the party ignored the two farmers and continued on west.
They passed out of sight, the pleasant sounds of the girl and the tell-tale sound of full plate fading away to be replaced with the typical chittering of insects in the late summer of northern Italy.
Coris and Alpalto watched the western horizon for a long time. No figures appeared again.
"I'm worried for those girls, Alpalto," Coris said.
"Me too Coris, me too," Alpalto replied. "That nice young girl shouldn't be hanging around a man like that."
"He's cleaned up, but he's the same man as before Alpalto, sure he is," Coris said.
"Aye, that he is Coris, and no mistake. Those ladies had best be watching themselves after dark if they travel with a man like that," Alpalto said.
"They look tough for ladies though, Alpalto. Maybe they'll be all right."
"Maybe, Coris, maybe. I sure hope so." Alpalto said.
The men did not speak anymore that day. For a few weeks after, Coris had more terrible dreams of a man in full plate, wielding a great sword, bringing great calamity with him. The man in his dreams wore blue armor, however, not red or white. Coris was puzzled for a time, until the dreams faded, and he forgot all about them.