The rider paused, indecisively, then turned his horse into the field. The near end of the field hadn’t been harvested yet and the horse whickered at him until he paused to let it strip a mouthful of the grain.

“Go ahead, Diablo,” the young man said, humorously. “Mike shouldn’t begrudge it.”

The harvester looked up at a shout from the man driving the wagon and pulled the oxen to a stop. They nuzzled at the grain but since their mouths were covered by feed bags they couldn’t emulate the horse. He said something to the man on the wagon then climbed down off the harvester and walked across the fields towards the rider. At that the rider pulled the horse’s head up with a word and tapped him into an easy trot. When he approached the other man he reined in and smiled.

“ ‘I will feast my horse on the standing grain,’ ” he said, then dismounted, hooking his reins onto the saddle to tell the horse to stay.

“Herzer,” the harvester said with a smile, holding out his hand. “It’s good to see you, man.”

“Good to see you, Mike,” the young man replied, clasping his friend’s forearm and gesturing with his hook at the fields. “Damn, you’ve been working hard.”

“Yeah, but it’s paying off,” Mike said, looking at his friend and shaking his head. “You look tired.”

“I am,” Herzer admitted. “And I’m glad to be home. But I’m due for a tour at the Academy, so maybe I can chill there for a while.”

“What do you have to learn?” Mike asked.

“What do you have to learn about farming?” Herzer replied.

“Lots.”

“Yeah, same here. But Edmund’s talking about an instructor position. I figure I’ll be doing some research at the same time. Time to brush up on my ancient Greek.”