The wood panelled chamber was not overly large, maybe the size of Sara ’s tavern, despite that a single man and table dominated everything. The carefully carved wood-panelled walls, and the large bay windows, which let in an impressive amount of light even though you couldn’t see or hear what was going on beyond them, were vastly overshadowed by that man and the table.

Sitting on an ornate chair, which towered over the man, yet seemed insignificant compared to the distinguished presence of the man himself, was Gomes ’ father.

He had a noble bearing, and wore such ornate and high-class clothing—even if it seemed slightly odd compared to the high-class clothing which I ’d seen in the streets outside and to what Gomes himself wore—I would’ve fully believed he was royalty rather than a simple noble. His slicked back black hair greying at the roots and his neatly trimmed beard, which had distinguished streaks of grey in it, framed an aged butterscotch face which was what I could see Gomes growing up to having.

I was in cheap clothing, especially compared to what was being worn by those within this room. Not only that, my clothes were stained with blood, mud, rubbish, shit, and torn open in various unflattering ways. It made me feel uncomfortable and self-aware. I tugged at the neck of my tunic.

‘Impressive,’ Gomes’ father said in a slightly stilted accent. ‘I am heard about your duel with peque ña demonia . ’

Not wanting to embarrass myself, I nodded.

‘My boy is friend, right?’

I nodded again.

‘You caused him to hurt, yes?’

Gomes started saying something in his native language in a rapid and angry tone.

‘My boy say you been hurt more than him. Me no believe it.’

Courtesy be damned, especially when I saw Gomes ’ annoyed face. I took off my tunic. I let the hand holding the tunic hang to my side so he could see the many crisscrossed scars across my body. The bruises I had gained from knocking into the cobbled road after jumping through the third-story window were purpling up and looked painful. Not that I paid any attention to the slight pain they caused.

‘My boy, not walk again proper.’ He said, leaning forward, doing his best to intimidate me. Yet no longer did I see him as an imposing figure, but a father upset about his son.

Somehow that made the intimidation factor reduce.

‘My first child never had a chance to live.’ I said in a quiet voice.

‘You father?’

‘My first… Wife died with our child.’

Gomes ’ father made the sign of the Trio on his chest and bowed his head for a moment of silent prayer.

‘You no follow teaching of Temple? You Temple Hero.’

‘Too many clergy acted ill against me and my people.’

‘They no saved you? Brought you to better place to live?’

I shook my head. ‘I saw children separated from their parents. Children were sent away. Mothers used in brothels. Fathers used as slaves.’

‘Me no heard this. Heard only of schools to teach how to live life in society.’

Before I could help myself, I started laughing.

‘Society?’ I walked closer to him.

He shrunk away from me.

‘We are an old people.’ I said, much louder than I wanted. ‘We are descended from those who settled these isles during The Collapse. We lived mostly in peace with each other. We lived in harmony with our beloved forest.’

I turned my back on him and looked up at the molded plaster celling.

‘This room is nice. But compared to the treasures of living under a living green celling? It. Is. Nothing . Our people can no longer live like that. Why? Not because of the Night of Destruction. No. Not that. Because you people think that just because we don ’t live packed together in cramped buildings with little free light and air and very little plants, we are not civilised.

‘Tell me who is uncivilised. When we had a neighbour who needed help; we aided them. Sometimes took them in. Sometimes gave without any desire of a return. When our people needed help? What did our neighbours do? They stole from us. Stole our children. Stole our goods. Stole our women.’ Quietly, almost to myself I carried on. ‘Stole my wife and child.’

I heard Gomes ’ cane thud on the floor as he walked closer to me.

‘My father didn’t mean anything by it. He just wants to know—’

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‘Me want to know why my son hurts so, yet still refuses to come home with me.’

I turned round to look at Gomes ’ father. No longer did he look proud and regal. His shoulders were slumped and I could see the pain on his face as he watched Gomes as he walked painfully across the chamber to comfort me.

‘I want to support Berwyn—’

‘Gomes, you are a good friend. But I have those who would help.’

He came to a stop a little way away from me. He was leaning on his cane with both hands, his body painfully twisted. And though he was trying his best, I could see the pain on his face in his clenched teeth and squinting eyes.

‘This is a big step, Ber, are you sure you can do it?’

‘I have Tan-bei, An-chau, Gannis, Mo—Castor, and I’m certain that even Stalwart Eclipse would be willing to help.’

‘Not Sara, then,’ Gomes said with a wincing laugh.

He gave me a complicated look. I was sure he knew I knew he had slept with her. I shook my head. I wasn ’t sure that not trusting Sara to help me was a sad or positive thing. ‘She is carrying our child.’

Strange, though I didn ’t fully trust her, I knew somehow she wasn’t lying about that. And not only because Nolicia hadn’t told me she was lying; there was also that strange outburst she gave when talking about herbs.

I really did need to find time to speak to Nolicia. But things had been progressing so fast that I ’d not really had much time to do anything but to speak a few words in passing to her as I traversed through Brook Bridge.

‘Son,’ Gomes’ father started speaking in Berician, but he stopped and carried on speaking in his native language. He was slow to speak and sounded hesitant.

Quietly in the background, I brought the chair that had been left for Gomes and brought it back to him. On the way back to him, I saw his eyes welling up with tears and streaks of tears running down his cheeks.

I placed the chair behind him and helped him lower himself to sit on it. He took a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped his eyes, cheeks, and nose.

Gomes ’ father stopped speaking for a while. So I interrupted the conversation. ‘There is a special someone Gomes does not want to lose. That is one reason he wants to remain here.’

‘Yes, the…’ he then said a few words in his native language.

‘I love her, father. And… We were… Somewhat…’ Then he started speaking slowly and hesitantly in his native language.

The two of them started conversing, but I couldn ’t understand what they were talking about, so I just stood there looking around at the grand wood panelled chamber we were in. I noticed on the celling that some of the plaster moldings were of mythical beasts that weren’t on the colourful and gilt coat of arms from outside. But the fact they were in here must mean they were important in some respect.

Sea serpents, I could understand, being a trading house. But the almost ubiquitous flying beasts I didn ’t recognise were surprising.

‘They be from family we brought house from.’ Gomes’ father said. ‘We are guest here, not rulers, not owners. Guest. The family was ruined in second war. Their men were master soldier and sailor. Solid family.’

‘He’s not just saying that, Ber, he means it. Like Castor, or the peque ña demonia : the little demon. He respects those who fight for their country. When he heard that the Amulan family was having to sell off their Lundein house and retreat to their country estates, he forced me to set sail to Lundein to do everything in my power to buy this house.

‘There were plenty of better places for us to buy near the pools, but despite the difficult situation he might put our family in, he brought up this house. And for more than they were asking for. Other than the coat-of-arms on the front of the house, he’s restored this house as close to the original as is possible. Hoping that one day he’d be able to sell this house back to the descendants of that family.’

I wasn ’t expecting that. From a few old soldiers and retired sailors who occasionally came into Sara’s tavern, I heard stories about the war when they were drunk. They only spoke of things to me, never the others, they knew that I was one of them. A true soldier who lived through war and didn’t idolise it.

‘You were soldier. Yes.’ Gomes’ father said. ‘You fought for your people.’

I nodded.

‘Son, you stay here.’

Gomes looked up at me from his seat on the chair. He was so confused and upset. I knelt down next to him and put my tunic on the floor next to me.

‘You are my best friend. It’ll hurt to say bye to you so soon. But Lucia is your… Lover… Family… I know the importance of a loving family and the pain of losing what’s important to you. So, please, be selfish now. Take her and flee from here.’

I looked at Gomes. His eyes were puffy with tears. I placed my hand on his leg and gave it a slight squeeze. He winced, as I must ’ve squeezed somewhere where it hurt.

‘I will miss you, but you have a chance to start a somewhat strange family. Two families. I hope that you fare better than Bercilan, Evaine, and Yvana.’

‘Was that Evaine’s lover’s name: Bercilan?’

I nodded.

Gomes looked at me a while longer before looking up at his father. ‘Father, I’ll go home: as long as you’ll accept Lucia to be my mistress and our child to be your illegitimate but beloved grandchild. There’s no future here for her or our child. I will also marry and provide an heir to carry on our family name.’

Gomes ’ father looked slightly confused, so Gomes spoke in his native language. I watched as his father’s face slid from confusion to joy. The two had a brief discussion. Gomes’ father gave a troubled, but happy smile. I expected the two of them to hug or something, but they both looked at each other with looks of love from their seats. His father said something and Gomes started crying again, joyful tears this time.

Gomes then looked up at me, his face bright with happiness and with tears streaking down his cheek.

‘Sorry, Ber, I’ll be unable to see the kind of hero you’re destined to become. I’m going home.’