11 Brothers

Before the others had finished stretching, Kakzail and I left the room and went down to the tavern. The room was already busy with early risers coming in to have breakfast and chat before going to work. Whether it was because she didn’t remember me or because she couldn’t even imagine that the gwak she had kicked out of her place was the same one who sat at a table that day, the huge innkeeper didn’t recognize me. She smiled broadly at the bearded man and brought us a hearty breakfast.

“Thank you, ma’am!” I said, very politely. And I snatched a generous bite of a large doughnut. I laughed with my mouth full. “Good mother, this is damn good!”

I had seldom swallowed so much and so well as I had that morning. I think I even frightened Kakzail a little, and betting that it would be the last time he would invite me to eat, I made the most of the occasion. After gazing at me for a moment in silence with a half-amused, half-baffled pout, he said:

“You see. Actually, it’s about the pendant. Swallow, you don’t want to choke because of the surprise, do you…”

He paused slightly, and taking advantage of the fact that he turned his head for a moment, as if to put his thoughts in order, I put a bun in my pocket.

“I’ve already swallowed,” I informed. “What pendant are you talking about?”

“The one you wear around your neck.”

I looked down, picked up the oak Daglat star, then the small metal plate.

“This one? Ah. What about it?”

“Well, the thing is…” Kakzail clasped his hands together on the table and lowered his voice. “It turns out that it has the name ‘Ashig’ written in the ancient writing of the valley wizards and that… about eleven years ago, a family in the valley gave a very similar pendant to a newborn. Tell me… where did you get the pendant?”

This left me stunned for a moment. I had never thought that this little plate would matter to anyone but me… I stiffened.

“Look, I didn’t steal it, okay? This pendant, I’ve had it forever.”

“That may be,” Kakzail conceded. “Yalet Ferpades, your companion from yesterday, confirmed to me that you came from the valley.”

Seeing that the bearded man was not accusing me of theft, I thought about it and laughed.

“Thunders. You mean this pendant…? I mean… that this family in the valley is mine?”

Kakzail nodded calmly.

“If your name is Ashig.”

I bit my lip.

“Yeah, well, I’m not Ashig, actually. I’m Draen. I don’t remember anything from before,” I admitted.

“Nothing at all?” He shook his head thoughtfully. “Doesn’t the name Skrindwar mean anything to you? Samfen? Xella? Skelrog, perhaps?”

I looked at him, puzzled, and fidgeted in my chair.

“Are you kidding? Who are these people?”

“Your older brothers. You have nine siblings in total,” Kakzail clarified. “If you really are Ashig. Personally, I’d bet a siato it’s you. Listen. If you could just remember one detail about… the house you lived in or how you got lost…”

I squinted and shook my head in bewilderment.

“How did I get lost?” I repeated.

“You got lost,” Kakzail asserted. “And in the stupidest way possible. That is, I had already left home by that time, but Skrindwar told me. About five or six years ago, your parents decided to leave the village for Estergat, to help your uncles and try their luck… A few days before you left, your brother Samfen got sick, so your mother sent you to the next village for a jar of syrup. And you must have found something interesting on your way because you went off the path. And you got lost. They looked for you for days.”

I frowned. Six years… That matched up. But I couldn’t remember any of those names.

“Was it winter?” I inquired.

“Uh… Yes, yes, it was indeed winter,” Kakzail confirmed, and he looked at me with a slight puzzled smile. “Do you remember anything?”

“No,” I admitted quite frankly.

For a moment, I thought that the bearded man was telling me all this story to gain my trust and to get me to tell him where the alchemist was. Then I thought better of it and said to myself that making up something like that didn’t make sense. It just seemed that this family had lost a child of my own age in the valley six years ago, wearing a pendant with the same name… I made a face, muttered an imprecation, took my remaining doughnut, and continued to eat.

“If you could remember anything,” Kakzail resumed, “I could prove without a doubt who you are. And you could go meet them.”

That troubled me, but I continued to chew.

“Meet who?” I asked.

“Your parents, of course. They live in Estergat. I’ve already told them about all this, but at the moment, they seem skeptical. I showed them the pendant, and Mother admitted that it was most likely her son Ashig’s. Perhaps, if they see you, they will recognize you.”

I stared at him for a few seconds, motionless, then continued to chew, swallowed, took the last remaining bun, and, without thinking of hiding it, put it in my other pocket.

“What funny things,” I opined. “You’re telling me that I have parents and nine siblings here in Estergat, and that you’re… my older brother?”

I laughed incredulously at the thought. Kakzail cleared his throat, smiling.

“Stranger things happen in life,” he assured. “But… it’s not all wonderful. I must warn you. Your parents, as I was saying, are… unwilling, at the moment, to… well…” He cleared his throat again and launched into: “Yesterday afternoon, I wanted to be frank with them, and I showed them your prison release file with the annexes, the guards’ impressions of you, and everything… You shouldn’t be surprised if they are, as I said, reluctant to open their door to you.”

At first I didn’t understand what he meant by “reluctant to open their door to you”. Then I remembered what a family meant to those who had one with parents, brothers, and grandparents, and I understood. Kakzail meant that my supposed parents were reluctant to accept back a son who had been lost six years ago and had just been released from prison on charges of being an antisocial, violent person and had been on the verge of ending up in the charity house for vagrants. Who knows, maybe the guards had even reported my karuja addiction. Things could only get worse if Kakzail had told them about Warok’s murder, and with such a record, I would win the prize for being the most desirable son in Estergat.

I rolled my eyes, and guessing that this was going nowhere, I decided to move on.

“It doesn’t matter if they don’t open the door to me, I don’t care, don’t worry. I already have a family. By the way, thanks for lunch. It was delicious. And now… I can go, right?” The bearded man arched his eyebrows as I stood up, and I explained, “I’ve got some business, actually. Ah, I won’t forget I owe you one, you know. I’m an honest gwak. Anything you want, just ask.” As he didn’t say anything, I hesitated and said, “I’m leaving.”

“Wait a second,” Kakzail said then. “Sit down.”

I sighed and sat down obediently.

“I didn’t mean to scare you…”

“I’m not scared,” I assured, amused.

“Yes, but perhaps I didn’t put it quite right, frankly, I’m not at all the best person to talk about such matters,” Kakzail admitted, with an embarrassed pout. “All things considered, I too am a stray son, but—”

“What happened?” I interrupted him curiously. “Why did the Tassians make you a slave?”

Kakzail grimaced, and for a moment, he did not seem very willing to say anything. However, after taking a smograss leaf out of a small box and putting it in his mouth, he said:

“Because I was an idiot.” He shook his head, smiling. “You were barely two or three years old when Father sent me to Onkada as an apprentice. My master was… insufferable. So, after a year, I listened to some… friends of bad influence. And I ran away with them. I went wrong. When I was sixteen, I fell in with the Tassians, became a gladiator, met Sarpas… then I met Zoria,” he added with a small smile.

I grinned, dumbfounded.

“So Zoria is your lady?”

Gosh. I could imagine him liking the Blonde, but… the Blue One? Kakzail coughed softly.

“Well… My ‘lady’ is maybe a bit too early. Anyway, getting back to the topic at hand, when we escaped, we looked for Zoria and Zalen’s foster father. We arrived in Estergat just two moons ago. And I was quite surprised when I heard from Uncle Markyr that the whole family had moved here, with four new little siblings and all. They’re a wonderful family, really. They don’t have an easy life, and Father and Mother have their tempers, but… well… let’s just say that, as far as I’m concerned, they have their life, and I have mine. But for you it may be different. I just ask you not to give up on something so important… before you’ve even tried. If you find a steady and honest job and you can prove that you can be a ‘straight’ person as Father likes to say… they might accept you and help you. Anyway, a worker at Carnation explained to me that ideally, I would either pay for you to go to school or you’d have to get a job with a contract and everything, for reintegration and that sort of thing. I’m trying to help you, but my savings have already been cut to the bone this moon, I work all day, and… I can’t take care of you alone, you know? So… you have to make an effort.”

I blinked and nodded, lost in thought.

“Yes, yes. I understand. Natural. You have your stuff too. So… I have to get a job with a contract? And… what exactly is that?”

Kakzail rolled his eyes, pulled a paper from his pocket, and placed it on the table.

“You show this form to the people who want to hire you, they sign it, and you take it to the central police station. That’s all.”

I arched an eyebrow and was reaching for the form when the door opened and I suddenly saw a familiar face. He was wearing a top hat, was barefoot, and his eyes darted around the tables as if he were looking for something. He seemed to find what he was looking for: the innkeeper, on the other side of the room. He grimaced and was about to back away when I stood up and shouted:

“Prieeeest!”

I rushed over to him and reached him in a flash. Carried away by the emotion of seeing him like this again, up and about, I laughed as I gave him a strong hug and we did a full circle on ourselves before I let go and exclaimed:

“Good mother, I see you’re in good shape!”

Rogan laughed at my enthusiastic welcome.

“I see that you do too. I heard from Slaryn that you were released from the inn. And that those strange fellows had taken you away, to boot.” He glanced curiously at Kakzail, still sitting at the table with a meditative expression, then turned to the patroness, grinned, and took me by the shoulders to lead me out of the tavern, saying, “Manras and Dil are outside. Thunders!” he laughed. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve been praying for you, Sharpy! By the way!” he said, stopping dead in his tracks before the door. “I brought you a present too. Since you brought me so many in the summer… Look, look, what do you think?” He handed me a necklace of shells and small colored stones. I accepted it, dumbfounded, as he explained, “I picked them on the Shell Beach and tied them together with a string. Do you like it? Gee… I didn’t think you’d already have two necklaces,” he said, disappointed.

I smiled up to my ears and put it on immediately, still admiring it.

“Even if I had twenty, this one would be the best! So cool! Thank you, Priest.”

We exchanged merry smiles, and Rogan was about to open the door when I remembered Kakzail and said:

“Wait a sec. Wait for me outside. I’ll be right out.”

I returned to the bearded man’s table and declared proudly, gesturing vaguely towards the door:

“It’s the Priest, a great mate of mine. Did you see what he gave me? He made it himself. That guy’s amazing.” Still smiling, I took the form and added, “I’ll get a job. I swear by my ancestors. And, whenever you want, you show me this family and let it be according to the Spirits’ will. I’m off.”

Kakzail raised a hand to stop me.

“Uh… Wait. Take this: it’s the prison release booklet. Maybe you’ll need to show it. Most importantly, don’t do anything stupid, okay?” I rolled my eyes as I put the booklet in my pocket, and he added, “Yalet asked me to give you his new address. Here you go.” He handed me a small piece of paper where it said: Fairbank Pension, eight, Moon Street. I opened my mouth to thank him, but before I did, he stood up, clearing his throat, and asked, “I’d like you to come back here tonight.”

“Natural, it runs,” I agreed. “At seven o’clock on the dot I’ll be back here. Is that okay?”

Kakzail nodded slowly, looking overwhelmed.

“It’s okay. That’s good. One more thing. Couldn’t you… at least tell me where you’re going?”

I looked surprised.

“Where am I going? Well, I don’t know. How should I know? I’m going to see my cronies. Then we’ll see. In general, I’m going, that’s the main thing!” I laughed. “Thanks for the paper. And for the lunch. And for everything else. It’s been a pleasure, ayo!”

I walked out of there under the frown of the innkeeper, and once outside, the cold wind hit me, and I whistled.

“Good mother, so cold.” But I immediately forgot about the cold when, on the other side of the Avenue, I saw Manras and Dil. Rogan had already joined them. I trotted across the street and waved, “Ayo, ayo! The missing gwak is back. You don’t know how much I’ve learned in a moon and a half. Free market stuff, gravediggers, heretics, journalists, artists, master divers… I’ve even talked with foreigners. And a priest! Can you believe it, Rogan? He taught me some prayers. And I taught the companions some of the ones you taught me.”

“For real?” the Priest laughed.

“Yes, yes, for real and in Drionsan! I’ve blown them all away with everything I know. And they also amazed me. Let’s just say that even at the Conservatory you don’t learn that much in one moon,” I assured them. “And you, shyurs? By the way, have you had breakfast?” I added, taking the two small bread rolls out of my pockets.

As they accepted the bread with enthusiasm, they began to tell me what they had done during the fifty days I had spent at Carnation. Well, Dil nodded and smiled and grimaced more than he spoke, but Manras, as a good student of mine, talked like a patterer. Apparently, Rogan had stumbled upon them barely a day after the flies had nabbed me, he had taken it upon himself to warn Zoria and Zalen, and they had been meeting every night since then at a shelter in the Cat Quarter. Manras confessed that he had joined forces with the Diver, but that everything had changed two weeks ago.

“They pinched him?” I said, surprised and saddened.

“Yes and no, they nabbed him, he legged it and left the Rock,” Rogan explained.

“He said he was going to seek his fortune in Raiwania,” Manras added. “He asked me if I wanted to go with him. But I said no, that if I did, I might never come back. So he went off by himself.”

As they continued to tell me of various events, I thought how hectic the life of the gwak was. From town to town, from prison to prison, from street to street, from gang to gang, and from adventure to adventure… But when I came to think of it, so far everything had gone fairly well for me, and, to tell the truth, even if I did have parents and brothers, this was not going to change my life in the main: that as long as the flies did not force me behind bars again, I was not going to get away from my cronies or the Priest. That much was clear to me.

“Sharpy,” Rogan threw out then. “What’s that?”

He pointed to the form with his chin.

“Oh. A paper I have to get signed,” I explained. “Which reminds me, I have to go get a contract job. Didn’t you have to do the same thing when you got out of Carnation?”

Rogan rolled his eyes.

“Well, no. They sent me to the poorhouse, and there the ancestors opened a window and told me: go and fly. I beat my wings, and those exploiters haven’t seen me since. Let me see, let me see,” he added, taking my wounded left hand. “Hey, seems they haven’t changed the chores of the jail-bird.”

For fear that he would take my other hand, I shoved my hands into my pockets with the folded form. I said:

“Yeah, well, my hand’s a lot better now, believe me.” At his curious look, I added: “Where did you get that hat from?”

“Oh. It’s a long story,” Rogan admitted with a small smile. “It belonged to my grandmother, who gave it to her brother, who gave it to a friend, who lost it, a beggar picked it up, one day the wind blew it away, and the Patron Spirit gave it back to me.”

I laughed.

“Well, this hat has quite a history! Can I try it on?”

“No way!” Rogan gasped. I looked pleading, but he refused, while running a loving hand over the brim of his hat. “No, no, no. Who knows what dangers you’d be putting it through. If you take good care of the necklace for, say, two moons, maybe I’ll let you put the hat on for two seconds.”

“Stingy nail-pincher,” I said, giving him a friendly shove. His reaction reminded me a little of Yerris’ whenever I asked him to lend me his harmonica, and this made me think that I had nothing of real importance to me… except my cronies. The truth is, I felt relieved that, despite my absence, they both continued to treat me, I don’t know, like an older brother, maybe?

I nudged Dil’s head to brighten him up and threw:

“Guys! I’m freezing, let’s go up the street. What do you propose?”

Rogan pouted.

“Well… Actually, Sla asked us to tell you that, as soon as you can, you need to go to… the place you know. That’s all she said.”

I rolled my eyes. I was already imagining Korther waiting for me in the office with his purple stone and his surely very complimentary comments… I scratched my neck and gave a forced smile.

“Yeah… I’m taking note. Well, I’m sure it’s nothing urgent, eh, besides, one day more, one day less, who cares…” I cleared my throat. “Apart from that, what do you propose?”