CHAPTER 4 –(RE)CONNECT

Exhausted, Gregor lay in his old room, staring at the ceiling. Dinner had been disappointing. The food was fantastic, but everyone at the table had been so cold. They did not normally eat together as a family, so he had been surprised when his steward informed him of his father’s wishes. Gregor had been skeptical at first, dinners with family tended to be awkward, not that this had been an exception. Well, it had not been that awkward thanks to Lania. Regardless, he had appreciated it, and he wished they could spend more time together. But how, what would they do? The question stumped Gregor, so he let it go and his mind began to wander. His thoughts wandered to the nights spent on the road, and while comfortable in his bed, he recounted the journey.

Finally, now that he had time to think about it, he realized that it had been two and a half years of rigorous activity. The long days of riding had been broken up by lessons, some done in the carriage, others in the saddle. At times, the enduring slow pace would be hastened to a gallop or sprint while he raced his fencing master Jerand. Every once in a while they would stop to eat, and when they were done with riding for the day, they would set up camp. More accurately, everyone else would set up camp while he began his second hour of fencing for the day. Occasionally they would release the falcons and hunt, but it was always for sport, and Gregor never had any luck. Despite how tiring it had been, Gregor felt included for the first time. He rode with the rest of the men. He was not a child anymore. His father spent time with him. The experience had been much more enjoyable than he had expected.

And the ending! The ending had been remarkable. The cheering as they returned to Letalona was unbelievably deafening. Other provinces and cities had cheered as the emperor rode through, but none compared to the populace of Letalona. Then there was his father’s speech. Gregor turned over on to his side, looking at the wall but only seeing his father as he had stood atop the terrace earlier that day. Gregor found it strange that he had never heard the full story recounted before. It must have been because everyone already knew of it, so there was no need to discuss it. Although he had heard snippets in the past, he had not known just how terrible the Tyrant had been. He rode all the way from Tell. Now that Gregor had made the journey himself, he had perspective on just how far that really was.

As he considered the logistics of supplying and marching an army over those lands -before the construction of roads- another realization dawned on him. That was my father’s uncle. That was grandpa’s brother and grandma’s brother-in-law. We came from Tell. That is where our home was. How did grandpa deal with that betrayal? His own brother…? Now that I know, how will I talk to him? Is that why he never told me any stories? Every time I pestered him, did he remember his brother chasing after him, hungry for his blood and his pain?

Despite the mess of questions that pestered Gregor, he did not stay awake for long, and was taken by his soft bed and comfortable pillow.

A week passed, but Gregor did not visit his grandfather. He was afraid of what the interaction might entail. On the one hand, he wanted to ask him about what it had been like to have the Tyrant of Tell as his brother. But on the other hand, he did not want to make things awkward by forcing him to remember what must have been terrible memories. Gods! Gregor did not even have any lessons to distract him. His tutors had two weeks to spend with their families. They had given him books to read, and in the case of Jerand, exercises to do, but Gregor could not bring himself to do any of them. Consequences be damned. He wanted to talk to his grandfather, describe his journey and tell him what it had been like.

He should go see him anyway, grandfather would probably not mind even if Gregor asked questions. Would he? Gregor was unsure, but he had not seen the old man in over two and a half years, and now there was this awkwardness, this guilt that he felt. Why should he get to go and visit his grandfather’s place of childhood in what had been the Queendom of Tell when his grandfather could not leave his rooms? For that matter, why was his grandfather essentially locked up while his grandmother was not... It did not make sense. He was practically pulling his hairs out in frustration. I’ll just go. I need to see him sooner or later. He probably misses me just as much as I miss him, if not more. I don’t need to talk to him about anything else. Maybe we can play a game of draughts and have some tea. Yes, that is what I will do. I will make tea for the both of us. Clutching those thoughts in mind, Gregor walked to the kitchens with his steward close behind. Half-way there he reconsidered and turned to Thery, asking him to see that tea was brought to his grandfather’s quarters. Thery nodded slowly, as though he wanted to say something, but Gregor had already changed course for his grandfather’s room.

Several minutes later he was walking down the hallway with growing excitement and apprehension before he realized, where are the guards? His grandfather’s room was right there. Why were there no guards stationed outside? In a panic he began to run for his grandmother.

--

“Where is he?” Gregor asked, running into his grandmother’s room, but she was not there either. Where else could she be? Gardens. She must be in the gardens. He exited her rooms, closing the door behind him and was going to head down to the gardens when he saw Thery running towards him. His steward slowed down when he saw Gregor and began to speak, trying to hide his labored breathing, “I’m sorry your highness, I was not sure if you had known or not, however you began to walk before I had the chance to say anything. Your grandfather is ill, and his room has been changed.”

“Take me to him.”

“At once my prince.”

The two began to walk hurriedly through the halls, climbing the stairs and heading one floor up until they reached a longer, wider corridor with glass along the left side, letting in a stream of sun light. At the end of the corridor there was a tall door with familiar guards stationed outside. Leaving Thery behind, Gregor ran for the door, slowing for barely a second as he nodded to the guard. Fearing what he may find, he stormed into the room.

“Gregor, you came!” His grandfather exclaimed as he lay in bed, with his wife Zana by his side. The old couple were holding hands. In fact, it was the first time Gregor had ever seen them together. Sunlight streamed in through the open balcony, as did fresh air. His grandfather was smiling, and he looked well. A little sharper around the cheekbones and jaw than Gregor remembered, but he did not seem like a man on his death bed. He walked to where he was resting and bent down to hug him, feeling how thin the old man had gotten. Garent was still far from frail, but his arms were a fraction of their previous size. Gregor’s eyes filled, on the verge of tears as he remembered the man who would challenge him to bouts of arm wrestling only to win with ease. It was only two years, how had he lost so much in only two years?

“I’m here, I’m sorry I did not come sooner.” Gregor apologized, “I hope I was not interrupting.”

“Nonsense, you came, and that is what matters. I missed you, how was the trip? Did you get to see new lands and foreign beauties?” his grandfather teasing him just as he had before Gregor had left.

Gregor’s face flushed red with embarrassment, and he became extremely, uncomfortably, aware of his grandmother sitting to the side. The embarrassment only amplified with shock when his grandmother spoke up, “What happened? Cat got your tongue? Or was it perhaps someone else that stole it from between your lips?” The old couple grinned mercilessly at his discomfort for a few moments, then Garent looked at Zana, silently asking for privacy. She nodded and replied, “While you figure that out, my flowers need tending to, so I will be in the garden if you need me.”

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As she left Garent asked, “Will you be coming back tonight?”

She thought for a moment before replying, “perhaps not tonight, Garshik wished for me to spend some time with Lania, but tomorrow morning we can have breakfast together?”

Garent nodded and sunk back into his pillows, watching the door close behind her. Gregor was still speechless. When he noticed the look on his grandson’s face, he explained, “sometime after you all left, she came to see me. Perhaps she felt alone, or missed home, but whatever it was I am grateful for it. At first it was once a week, then she began coming more regularly -twice, three, four- soon it was daily. She arranged for me to move to these rooms, said she could not stand how stuffy the old ones were. I had forgotten how much I missed her…”

He chuckled then continued speaking, almost apologetically, “She has been spending too much time with me, and in her old age she does not seem to care for manners as much as she used to. Never did think I would have been that bad of an influence though. Not that it matters, I find it amusing and you should have seen the look on your face. I doubt any of the flowers in the Garden of Kingdoms reach such a vibrant shade of red. Incredible.”

“Now, tell me what it was like traveling through the extensive Felian Empire.”

They sat for the rest of the day, talking about the places Gregor had passed through, the architecture of the cities and unique goods that everywhere had to offer. The further south, the more unique and interesting things got. Dialects changed and foods bore a greater difference. It was a testament to the greatness of the empire that four different languages were thought of as common, and Gregor had learned a great deal of Sebane, the most popular language after Belnar. He reluctantly admitted that he did see many distinct beauties, but he changed the subject twice as fast as he had brought it up. He boasted, speaking of how great he had gotten at fencing, even winning bouts against other kings’ sons, sometimes losing but becoming friends in the process. His skill with riding and horses had improved and he was able to steer without holding the reins, even while at a slow gallop, but he was still too afraid to try it while racing -especially because there was no benefit to doing so. He spoke of the time spent with his father, learning various aspects of ruling from the emperor himself instead of a tutor who got all of their knowledge from books as opposed to experience. He compared Katentin to Letalona and spoke of their surprising similarities, and even more of their stark differences. Through it all his grandfather watched him with admiring eyes. Once the sun set and Gregor finished relating numerous facets of the trip, his grandfather softly spoke up, “My how you’ve grown.”

They continued to speak of the different provinces and cities for a short time, but soon both were yawning, and they called it a night. Gregor returned to his room with a lighter heart, and his grandfather fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The two met again the next day, and the day after that. On the fourth day, Gregor had a late lunch brought up to his grandfather’s quarters. After the quick meal, they talked for a while longer. Then, as had been their tradition, they played a game of draughts which, to no-one’s surprise Garent won. Still abiding to old habits, they decided to follow it up with a bout of arm-wrestling.

While they arranged the table and chairs for arm-wrestling Gregor jokingly taunted his grandfather, “How much of my strength should I use? Half?” To which his grandfather replied, “Go easy on me, I’m an old man and you are ten times and strong as you had been. We can’t have you sending me to the infirmary, imagine how it would look. The young prince breaks his grandfather’s arm in revenge after his grandfather tanned his backside in draughts. What a disgrace that would be!”

“You did not ‘tan my backside’!”

“I admit, you have improved, but I still smoked you.”

“I had a chance to play while we were traveling, but people played differently. Jerand is quite good at the game, but in his version of it, the pieces move diagonally, and instead of soldiers and cavalry he referred to the pieces as men and kings. He was confused when I showed him the version we play.”

“I would not be surprised, we play the version common to Orid-narr, my hometown. It’s the one I had played with my family when we were younger.”

Gregor was gripped by unease as he remembered his grandfather’s relationship to the Tyrant, but curiosity overcame his hesitance, for it was the first time his grandfather had talked about his family or where he had come from. “Where is Orid-narr?” he asked his grandfather as nonchalantly as he could manage.

His grandfather looked disappointed for a moment, “You did not pass by it? No, I suppose you did not…” he sighed before continuing, “It’s further south than Katentin. Just a small town we had moved to when we were younger.”

“Does the name come from Kurjen? The way you pronounce it sounds Kurjen, and the geography matches.”

Garent’s disappointment was abated, now the old man seemed impressed as he looked up at his grandson, “Yes, it is Kurjen, Orid-narr roughly means two rivers. Although that helped with trade in the town, it always served as move of a middle area on the way to larger destinations, very little of what went through the town ever stayed as no one with resources wanted anything to do with the backwater location. It’s a shame really, the place had so much potential.”

“Why did you move there though?”

“Well, to be completely honest, I’m not entirely certain. We had lived in Navitrag before then, and my father was a sailor, but after one expedition where the winds had blown their ship off course and through the Sea of Cyclones, he retired. Or at least that is my guess. He never really spoke about it, but after that day he never returned to open waters. But still, ships were all he knew, so he took up a job carting goods up and down the rivers. I remember accompanying him on some of those voyages. We would take turns, sometimes it would be me, other times it would be my brother, occasionally it would be my mother. My sister never got to go, she had always been too ill…”

He trailed off then, lost in memory, and Gregor did not ask any more of the past. Instead, he brought the conversation back to languages, “I did not know that you spoke Kurjen.”

“I used to, still can probably, but the only people around here that speak it are your grandmother and your father, but we’ve all gotten used to speaking Belnar, and it’s not like we need to speak any other tongue. I actually had quite the gift with languages, always found them easy to pick up.”

Gregor looked at his grandfather in wonder, Why is it that I know so little about you? You are the person I talk to most, yet I learned more from you in this conversation than I ever had before.

A servant came by to take the empty plates away from the table, while another brought tea for the pair. With others, Gregor might have had wine brought up, but his grandfather did not drink. A strange habit. Everyone else that Gregor met drank something or the other. Mainly in the case of Jerand, the man drank everything.

“One thing that never fails to impress me in this City of Ocean Shells, is the tea.”

“Really?” Gregor asked in surprise.

“Yes, it’s quite good.” His grandfather replied sincerely.

“Out of everything in this palace, the tea is what never fails to impress you?”

Garent shrugged and moved away from the table, carrying his tea with him as he walked over to the embroidered couches. He put the tea down first, then slowly lowered himself into the soft cushions using his arms for support, groaning as his did so.

Gregor followed his grandfather’s lead and sat down across from him. The two sunk into their respective chairs and enjoyed the sunlight coming in from the window. His grandfather was the first to break the silence, “So, you have no lessons?”

“No, not for the next week.”

“Then will it be back to meeting once a week?”

“I’m not sure, it depends on how much I have to do and what my advisor recommends. I should think that I can manage more than once a week, but as I mentioned, it depends. I am sure that if I talk to my father I can get him to understand that our time together does not impede on my studies. If need be, I can have meals with you once a day. After-all, I need to eat anyway, might as well eat with you.”

He heard no response and looked back from the window to his grandfather. The old man had fallen asleep with warm tea cradled in his lap. He looked peaceful sitting there with the sunlight illuminating him and likely warming his bones. Gregor smiled sadly, you truly have gotten old haven’t you….

Gregor got up and removed the tea from his hand, placing it on the side table next to the couch. He lightly touched his grandfather’s shoulder and softly spoke to him, “Grandfather, come to bed. Let me help you over.”

“Come on, you’ve fallen asleep.”

“Grandpa?”