The Reformation Wars: The Trump of Ibis

Chapter 3

Paulo's boots sunk into sand with every step. Here and there, the ocean's tide lapped over the weathered leather, washing off granules in the process. A cool breeze came by way of the sea and brought a salty tang to his nose. His scarlet cape billowed to one side like a flag. More pleasant than all these sensations, however, was the fact he currently strode alongside his long-lost mother.

"I tell you no lie," Scaraleten was saying, "You resemble your father in more ways than I can count."

Paulo grinned. "You must be exaggerating."

"Not so! Even the way you tilt your head listening to me...he did exactly the same thing."

"And yet I have no recollection of him. What was he like, I wonder? He must have been quite a man."

"Oh, believe me, I have never met a man quite like him in all my days." Scaraleten's eyes grew dreamy. "My love Andre regarded honor and virtue very highly. He refused to succumb to the baser instincts of mankind—refused to stoop to the level of the brutes who served under him. He wielded his sword with ferocity and fought like no other, yet he could be so gentle and compassionate when needed. Everything a man should be, Andre was."

"If I could be half what he was, I'd be content. One thing is weighing on my mind, though."

"What is it?"

"I have no memory of my father, nor of you. The only caretaker I've known all my life was Lord Tanuk, and he always told me you both were dead, so he'd been forced to—"

"That's a damned lie." she growled, "The very night you were weaned, Tanuk stole you from me. I should have known he had ill intent, lingering around so long after your father's passing, but...I failed you. I'm so sorry."

Paulo placed a comforting hand on his mother's shoulder, though the gesture felt rather foreign to him. "You shouldn't blame yourself."

"I can't help it. My instincts were right all along, but I didn't trust them. Tanuk never inspired any confidence in me, even when Andre had him on a leash. He always seemed too crafty for his own good. I should have known his intention wasn't to comfort and assist a widow. He only stuck around to steal you."

"And then he lied to me all my life, claiming you were dead and the only person in this world to care for me was him. Mark my words, I won't allow such treachery to go unaddressed. He will know my sore displeasure."

"Keeping a child from his mother for twenty years is a grievous crime, most definitely. The way I see it, his head is unworthy to remain on his shoulders."

Paulo glanced over sharply. "My wrath toward him is great, but he has done much for me over the years."

"Nothing a mother couldn't have done better."

"You aren't a swordsman, are you?"

"Of course not, but learning to wield a sword doesn't require being stolen from your mother and raised by your instructor. Do you realize all he stole from you, Paulo?"

"What do you mean, 'do I realize'?" Paulo scoffed, "Two decades I could have spent caring for you and deepening my relationship with the one who brought me into the world, he stole from me. Every day, I regret not having my father, despite Tanuk filling that role as well as he could. You, on the other hand...he could never replace a mother, even if he'd tried."

"Your father showed Tanuk nothing but compassion, and yet look what he did in return. Did you know your father took Tanuk off the streets as a boy, kept him fed, and then taught him swordsmanship to give him some direction in life? He found a homeless, hungry lad with no purpose, and he turned his whole life around."