Kith Unto Kin
Pedro was sitting by the fire, nursing a cup of strong tea. Gavião paused and stared at the older man for a while. His craggy features reminiscent of his own. His world-weary expression was looking back at Gavião more and more from the silver looking glass these days. "No judgments, no pre-conceived ideas." Gavião continued the mantra he'd always repeated to himself regarding the man who was his birth father. There is no way to know what pressures or choices took him from your life, try not to forgive or condemn or love or hate him when you don't know the story. He had always cautioned himself. Now, perhaps, he would know the story, and then what?
"Greetings, I trust this accommodation is a bit more comfortable than the lab, at least?" inquired Gavião politely.
"Quite so, quite so." Pedro mumbled, looking up at his tall son. "Sit down and share some of this marvelous tea." he invited.
Gavião joined him on the ground, removed the tankard from the thong at his belt, and poured tea in to it slowly and carefully. They sat in silence for several minutes, seemingly contemplating the brew.
Pedro began "It was my fault, yes. I would be wondering that if I were you. Did I leave of my own free will? The answer is yes, I take responsibility for it."
"I see." said Gavião, noncommittally.
Apparently satisfied that he was not being heard with open hostility, Pedro continued. "I wanted to be a Knight Templar. It was my passion. I don't know if you remember the stories I told you when you were a boy? Yes, it was all I wanted to be. This damned club foot was quite a setback in trying to get in. I went to Lisbon though, and I practiced as a novice. I spent 3 years as a novice, when most either quit or got through it in 1-2 years. I finally did graduate. As soon as my class was knighted, we went to war. It was bloody, and many of my cohort were slain. I was riding, so my foot did not hinder me. In the battle I lost three fingers from my left hand, and many friends.
"My mentor at Knight's training was Quitor. Yes, you knew him later, I will come to that. He supported me, kicked me in the ass when I needed it, and was generally the reason I stayed in and made it as far as I did. He was given the task of telling me I could no longer be a active Knight Templar with this disfigurement on top of my other problem. I was devastated. He tried to tell me that I could still be a stable master, a great honor among the order of Epona but I would not listen. I was a fool and I wanted shiny armor, and glory and rescuing maidens in distress, not mending saddles and shoveling horseshit for my entire life. I worked in the stables for a time, but I began to spend my coppers on wine and was rather ashamed of my self-pity. I didn't want to get "the look" from Quitor anymore, so I left Lisbon.
"That's when I met your mother. Indra was a nice girl, she liked the wood carvings I did, and respected me then as a "war hero". She encouraged me to become an artisan. For a time I crawled out of the bottle, and we had about five good years. You were about 3-4 when my self-pity returned. I saw the Knights ride by, and felt the brush of the glory pass me by. I could not make myself be happy with the good life I had. I see now I was a brash fool. I started drinking again, and your mother grew angrier and angrier at my self absorbed behavior. Quitor came to me when you about 8. He told me that the oracles had proclaimed that you would be a mighty Knight, and help shape the future in some drastic way. He told me to shape up or ship out, basically. He also told me that Indra was the lover of a nearby nobleman, Neeron, and if I didn't shape up soon, I would have no hope of winning her back. I didn't even try. I just said fine, she deserves more, and let her go.
"Quitor followed you and your mother to Neeron's and became his stable master, hiding his true identity from the Lord of the Manor. He wanted to make sure you were not harmed or turned to some evil purpose by the shallowly evil nobleman. I got on the next ship, and have been sailing mostly ever since. Sometimes sober for years at a time, sometimes drunk for years at a time. I never really could pull myself out of my dark moods for good. The only deviations were the times I tried to visit you, but was turned away by Neeron and his servants. Also, I sent you the rod, as you know, and there was the adventure around that. That is how I began working for this shipping company, to see if there was anything I might do that would aid you in your quest. I have always had a spark of hope in knowing you would do great things. I see you are doing those things now, even if no thanks to me. I am very proud of you. Perhaps my life was not a complete waste, since you were born from it."
Silence fell between them again.
"Did you have to rehearse that?" Gavião asked quietly, quirking one corner of his mouth up as he looked at the old man.
"YES! For months while I was in that damned lab!" exploded Pedro.
Both men laughed, their bellies heaving with the force of their merriment and relief. The hard part was over.
Gavião finally replied "Well, I appreciate your honesty. I'm a man now, and as such I have long since stopped blaming in character flaws I possess on my childhood. I don't really think about it often anymore. What I do think about, and need to know about is how you got in the lab, and what you know that might help us, if you could."
"Indeed!" declared Pedro, sitting up a little taller. "Here are the main things I can tell you:
- I was on a ship, transferring many casks of liquid. I don't really know exactly what was in the casks. It sailed from Lisbon to a point on the northern coast of England or Scotland. Inverness was my guess, but we never made it and the Captain was somewhat vague about the exact port-of-call.
- When the ship wrecked, the 6 of us you see here were in the hold. I believe the other sailors were all killed. We were doused in the contents of the casks during the crash. It smelled sweet, like flowers and honey.
- We were snatched from the wreckage by the talons of a dragon. We were brought back to this lab. Dushela exposed us to the plague many times, but could not seem to make any of us contract it. This puzzled her greatly, and she asked us lots of questions about the cargo. I could not tell her any more than I have told you.
- The shipwreck, as far as I know is located off the coast of Ireland.
- The crew that I sailed with were made up of humans from Portugal. The Captain was known as Sanchez and the ship La Victoria. It sailed under a Spanish Flag. I don't know who we worked for."
"That is all." concluded Pedro.
Gavião slowly rose to his feet. He crossed the ground and touched his father on the top of the head. "Thank you, Father." he said very quietly, and walked away.
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