TARRAGONA, 1516

It was a slow night.

The weather was chilly with bits of fog and thus the two of them had opted for playing cards in a tavern instead of shell games on the streets, their newest shtick. That would have been fine if there had actually been any card players in the bar. However, there weren't any; their absence forcing Miguel and Tulio to sit at a table in the corner and drinking their wine as slowly as possible lest they wanted to spend money on a new one or be kicked out.

Their mood improved considerably when two women entered the bar.

Tulio and Miguel exchanged knowing glances and smirked at each other. Both sets of eyes had immediately settled on the same ample cleavage, not to mention the luscious chestnut hair and tanned skin. Maybe no card games but otherwise their night had potentially just gotten infinitely better. Not to mention that if things went according to plan at least one of them would have a really nice place to sleep for tonight.

The two men watched the women chatter quietly amongst themselves. The one they had their eyes on was probably a good bit older than Tulio and Miguel and looked stunning, the other was younger and plainer looking. Both wore simple dresses which were nonetheless of of a distinctly better quality than most others here. A wealthy widow or bored wife in search of an adventure and her maid or lady friend. They knew the type. It was the best type.

„Bet you the next round you can't get with her.", said Tulio with a leer and took a sip from his wine.

„Two rounds and I can."

„Three's for me."

„On.", said Miguel and drank up. „So who goes first?"

Tulio pulled a coin out of his vest and balanced it on his thumb. He raised an eyebrow at his partner.

„Heads for me, tails for you?", he asked innocently. Miguel smiled and made a sweeping gesture with his hand for Tulio to throw, which he did.

It came up tails, causing Tulio to take a double-take. How...? That was supposed to be his double-headed coin!

„Guess it's me~!", said Miguel, snatched the coin up with a grin that was way too smug and sauntered off. Halfway to the bar he turned, waggled his eyebrows and mouthed 'I switched the coins' at his partner.

„Oh you...!", Tulio said and pointed an accusing finger at Miguel but there wasn't much he could do except fume silently in a mixture of outrage and admiration while his friend had somehow already naturally inserted himself into the women's conversation and was flirting heavily.

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Things seemed to be going well for Miguel except that 'María', when she wasn't touching his arm or fluttering her eyelashes at him, kept sneaking glances at Tulio over her cheap blue fan who, to Miguel's annoyance, ran his hands through his hair in a very attractive manner and sent flirty looks back. He was getting mixed signals here and he told her so. She had the decency to blush and looked at him apologetically through beautiful dark brown eyes.

„Oh I am so sorry. How terribly rude of me", she said, playing with a loose thread on his neckline. „It is just...", she lowered her gaze in fake modesty.

Miguel inwardly rolled his eyes at the exaggerated acting but let her have her part. If she was trying to make him jealous so he'd try harder or make him feel like he'd 'won' when she'd take him home, so be it. Some men needed the validation and it was probably just her usual spiel.

„Well. I do admit that I find your friend quite attractive. And you two seemed rather...close, so I've wondered if perhaps the two of you would consider...", she trailed off, looking up at him with raised eyebrows and biting her lip in what was supposed to convey embarrassment at making such a scandalous offer.

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Miguel couldn't see his own face but he would have given a lot to be able to do so. He had most certainly not expected this.

He turned his head to look at Tulio, who questioningly raised an eyebrow at his friend's expression but Miguel ignored him. He looked back at María again, who was lightly caressing his arm and hand lying on the bar top.

„We~ll", said Miguel, making a split-second decision and leaned in. „I might be up for it. But I don't think Tulio would be." Miguel shook his head sadly and gestured with his hands in a way that indicated that maybe Tulio wasn't quite as open-minded as he was. Blatant lies were always worth a try.

She sighed.

„Well, I'm afraid my offer is only good for the two of you. I understand if you don't want to, of course. In that case I will just have to find someone else...", she began.

„Wait! Wait.", he said quickly and flashed her a charming smile. „I mean...I haven't even asked him yet, have I?"

„Oh please do, would you.", she said and vigorously fanned herself but he heard the smirk even if he couldn't see it.

Miguel looked at his partner again who had watched them with silent interest over the rim of his mug. He motioned with his head for Tulio to come over. Upon Tulio's confused frown they exchanged raised eyebrows, nodding, cocking of heads, eyebrow waggling and finger pointing for a few seconds until Tulio, with a decidedly smug air about him, drank up and joined them.

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They followed María into a big house in a very nice part of the town, a fact that worried Tulio but María assured them that her husband was out of town until next week. It was good enough as far as Miguel was concerned and the expensive knick-knacks everywhere certainly helped to alleviate Tulio's fears; mostly by squashing them in greed.

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After a night of thorough debauchery they woke the next morning well rested and manically grinning at each other over the satin pillows of an obscenely large bed.

María still asleep between them they were then having a rather heated but silent debate on whether or not they should wake her up and try their luck for a second round (Miguel) or sneak out of the huge bedroom decorated in red and gold and make off with some valuables (Tulio) or possibly both (disagreement on the likelihood of success).

They never did reach a conclusion because just as Miguel was contemplating using The Face the wooden double door flew open with a loud bang and a short, muscular and currently very enraged man with a frighteningly large mustache stormed in, startling María awake and Tulio and Miguel into a high-pitched shriek.

„Eulalia!", he thundered over the girly screams of Tulio and Miguel. He spotted the two young men lying in his wife's bed. „I knew it! I knew it! You lying, cheating bitch!", he shouted and drew an extremely sharp-looking sword.

„Cristóbal!", shouted Eulalia, formerly María, struggled to get off the bed as quickly as she could and ran towards her husband.

„Cristóbal, please! Don't-", she pleaded but he forcefully pushed her aside and focused on Tulio and Miguel who were falling all over themselves in their attempts to get out of the bed and as far away from him as possible. Thankfully they managed to get the bed between them and the raging maniac that was Eulalia's husband.

„Two at once too! You filthy, little whore! And you-!", he pointed his sword at them.

„I am Don Cristóbal Diego José de Rodriguez y Velázquez. You have defiled my wife and dishonoured my name! Prepare for your death!"

Bristling with anger and ignoring his wife's appeals for mercy he was slowly striding around the bed towards them, the two naked men stumbling backwards until they hit the wall on the opposite side.

„Please, Señor!", stammered Miguel as Tulio was too terrified to get out a single word. „We're all civilized here! I understand your anger at this but could we talk about it first, yes?" He fumbled behind him for the window sill that he knew was there and exchanged a quick glance with Tulio, hissing 'window?' through gritted teeth.

„Window!", Tulio hissed back and nodded imperceptibly, never taking his eyes off Don Cristóbal Diego José de Rodriguez y Velázquez who roared: „Silence!" and lifted his sword.

„No! Please!", cried Eulalia and tried to stand in his way again. „It was all my fault!"

„Uh, uh she's right you know!", said Tulio, thinking quickly. „We didn't know she was married! I swear! Please!" He stepped sideways so he covered Miguel and waved his arms imploringly while Miguel unfastened the latches on the window behind his back.

„After all, isn't she the one who made any vows to you? Who promised to be faithful to you until death do you part?", he rambled on.

Eulalia shot him a death glare but it seemed to be working on her husband who had lowered his sword a promising bit and was looking at his wife with narrowed eyes as he considered this for a moment.

„Now!", yelled Miguel, smacking the window open and they turned on their heels as one man and scrambled through it as fast as possible, knocking flower pots off the small balcony in front of it. Miguel hopped on the balustrade and, as agile as a monkey and wearing about as many clothes, jumped up and got hold of the gutter, climbing onto the roof, where he immediately extended a hand to Tulio and pulled him up as well. Tulio had never been more glad about Miguel's past as an artiste than when he felt Don Cristóbal's blade swish the air mere centimeters below his left foot.

Hands and feet slipping on clay tiles wet from the morning dew they scaled the rooftop to the irate shouts of their pursuer and slid down on the other side where Tulio only barely snatched Miguel back from falling off. Their eyes darted around in blind panic for a few seconds as they tried to regain their balance.

„Over there!", shouted Miguel and made a beeline for the clothesline he had just spotted on the next house, Tulio hot on his heels.

„Oh no! No, no, no, no, no Migueeeel!", called Tulio, skidding after his partner, but the blond man was already vaulting over the edge of the roof and clutching a yellowed shirt. The line sagged instantly but didn't tear and Miguel somersaulted himself safely to the ground. He whipped his head around to his friend who was still balancing on the roof, trying not to fall off.

„Tulio! Jump! I'll catch you!", he shouted and extended his arms.

Tulio hesitated for another moment, silently prayed to a God he didn't believe in and took a leap of faith. He managed to grab the line - which predictably tore with a loud ripping sound and Tulio fell with a scream, landing on Miguel and knocking them both to the ground.

Groaning but in one piece they tried to sort out their limbs. The process was sped up astoundingly by the angry cries of „Sánchez! Pérez! García! Get those men!" as Don Cristóbal burst through his house's back door, gesticulating wildly with his sword and being followed by a number of armed men.

Miguel and Tulio didn't waste their breath screaming as they scrambled to their feet and legged it with the speed of mortal fear.

They ran blindly, turning left and right at random, swerving into alleyways and – when they reached a market – climbing over and rolling under tables full of fruit and vegetables to the laughter, gasps and surprised, offended or angry screams of the citizens of Tarragona; leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Twice it was only Tulio's quick reaction saving Miguel; once from getting his head kicked in by a donkey and once from being overrun by a cart.

Panting and clutching their sides, they swung around another corner and this time their luck ran out as they collided with the massive warhorse having it's hooves shoed at a smithy. The blacksmith's boy was holding it and so it might have been alright had the blacksmith himself not been holding a red-hot horseshoe in his tongs at this exact moment.

The horse balked, the blacksmith cursed and Tulio howled when half a horseshoe imprinted itself on his butt in white, agonizing pain.

„Fuck! Tulio!"

Miguel grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him into the water trough next to them, falling in himself the next second when the surprised Tulio grabbed his arm for balance.

Coughing and sputtering they emerged again to the incoherent cursing and yelling of the blacksmith and shouts of „There they are! At the smithy!"

„Run! Run, run, run!", yelped Tulio, leaped out of the trough and started to do just that, survival instinct considerably stronger than the pain and exhaustion he was currently in. He looked back in utter horror when he realized his partner hadn't followed him: Instead he had vaulted on the horse and snatched the reins!

„Miguel, are you crazy?!", he gasped and forgot to run for a moment.

„We need speed!", Miguel yelled back and dug in his heels. The horse reared up and both the blacksmith and his boy decided that getting the hell out of the way was the sensible option right now. „Hand!", he shouted as he was galloping towards Tulio, who stretched out his arm and started to run again. Miguel leaned over the side of the horse, gripped Tulio's wrist in full gallop, pulled him up and threw him over the back of the horse in front of him.

„Miguel you're completely nuuuuuuuuuuts!", screamed Tulio and held on for dear life as the horse, fed up with all the noise, his uneven hooves and the crazy people on top of him, bolted.

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They were way out of the city when they finally stopped. Miguel was a decent rider but having to sit stark naked without a saddle on a bolting horse while also trying to keep an equally naked and screaming Tulio from falling off said horse was challenging even for him.

In other words: that they didn't die was a miracle of a magnitude that made Tulio seriously reconsider his atheism and thinking of donating a lot of money to the church. Once they had some again.

Of course the horse then threw them into a bunch of thistles by the roadside.

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Groaning in pain from being scratched, bruised and – in Tulio's case – burned, not to mention their lungs being at the point of near-collapse they just kept lying there for a good fifteen minutes, unable to do anything other than attempt get their breath back. The horse had trotted off.

„I can't feel my legs", said Tulio finally.

„Really? Because I can feel mine very well. I can feel everything.", moaned Miguel.

Tulio didn't even answer, he just hissed as he started to carefully extract himself from the local flora, several parts of it poking him in the fresh burn on his butt in the process.

Once they had managed to get out of the undergrowth they surveyed the damage, plucking bits of thistles off each other.

Either one of them had bruises, scrapes and lacerations all over their body. Tulio had lost his ribbon and both their hair was sticking in all directions at once, with pieces of mashed fruits and even more thistles stuck in it for good measure. Miguel had twisted his ankle. Tulio had his burn.

„Could you take a look at my butt?", he asked and held his aching back. It hurt like hell.

Miguel did, noisily sucking in air through his teeth when he looked at the blistering red spot. Tulio closed his eyes.

„How bad is it?"

„You don't want to know, partner", said Miguel and shook his head.

„Fuck.", said Tulio and that was really all there was to say.

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Beaten, bloody and bruised they eventually set off towards a village visible in the distance, the nearest place that was Not Tarragona. Arms around each other's shoulders for support they stumbled through the fields, a blazing midday sun burning their skin to a crisp. It was going to be a long walk.

„What do you think will happen to Eulalia?", asked Miguel. Tulio grimaced, then shrugged.

„I hope she doesn't get killed. That's the extent of my sympathy", he said in a miffed voice and stopped to regard his foot. He had just stepped into something squishy.

„On second thought: if her husband doesn't kill her, I might", he added, holding onto Miguel for support as he attempted to wipe the countryside off his feet.

„But for that we'd have to go back into the city.", Miguel pointed out and raised an eyebrow.

„On third thought, maybe I'll let her live."

They limped on in silence.

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"About that bet... Draw?"

"Draw."

Pause.

"And I won't hold the fake coin against you."

"The fake coin I didn't use because you swapped it?"

"That's the one."