Penitent

Chapter 251 Book 4 Ch 32: Storge

Later that day Michael walked with the rest of the mediators toward the Burndan camp. While the Swandian camp hadn't come across as undisciplined, it was a far cry from the organization he saw there. The Burndan camp was laid out like Stent's. A small trench had been dug out and filled with stakes, with the dirt piled around the camp to create a barrier to attack. Gabriel greeted them at the entrance and began walking them toward the center of the camp. The soldiers and knights were all moving with purpose, only taking a moment to bow or salute to Gabriel who acknowledged them with quick salutes or even the occasional personal word. There was admiration in his men's eyes, idolization. They would die for him.

Michael felt an odd kind of pride at that. He'd looked at his son's Titles and Deeds, as well as his sins. His Titles and Deeds had been impressive, far greater than any of the other kings he'd observed so far. Not only did he have five separate kingly titles, he also had a number of titles related to conquering those kingdoms, personal combat, and even duels. His deeds weren't the fluffed up type from tourneys and safe scenarios like the king of Stent's had been, but rather they were from real accomplishments in dangerous situations and were all the more powerful because of it. He was the most powerful individual he'd ever encountered. He likely didn't compare with the Emperor of Hume that Michael had seen in his visions, but as of that moment he was the closest thing to him.

His sins were… heavy. Murders, plots, and betrayals featured heavily. The amount of blood on his hands was tremendous. Thinking of what he'd done, even if he'd been forced to, was enough to make Michael's eyes begin to tear up. The boy he'd helped with his homework, taught how to ride a bike, and tucked in every night had enough blood on his hands to drown a village.

They reached a central officer's tent that was serving as a dining tent and sat to eat. Unlike Swandia and Old Hume, there wasn't the same etiquette restriction when it came to talking business during a meal.

"And what is it that Old Hume is getting out of this mediation?" asked Gabriel as he cut through a thick piece of meat.

Michael was having difficulty speaking, but Lance was across from him and took the lead.

"With the growing problem of the rifts and potential armageddon on our doorstep, we wish for conflict to be focused on our true enemies. The battle you're beginning here will only make us all weaker when facing them."

"And do you truly think you can succeed?" asked Gabriel casually. "You think that you can stop a conflict both sides see as inevitable?"

"We feel we must try everything we can to succeed."

"Admirable," said Gabriel, washing down his food with a sip of wine. He still had a bad habit of drinking through the side of his mouth, noted Michael. Overly sensitive front teeth as a child.

"And why are you so set on this conflict?" asked Michael. "You have no claim to Swandia. You attack purely out of a desire for conquest."

Gabriel sighed. "Sometimes conquest is the only way to save something."

"What are you saving it from?" asked Lance.

"Many things, but mostly itself."

"Oh?"

"Are you aware of how land is distributed in Swandia?"

They shook their heads.

"Almost all land is owned by the nobility and the merchants. The common man in Swandia owns nothing. Right now the landowners are keeping leasing cheap and available, but it's only a matter of time before they begin to squeeze them. If your mediation succeeds, there will be such a stark divide between those with land and those without that the suffering will be immeasurable. Land reform is the only solution, but with titles and deeds making the nobility and the king as strong as they are, natural revolution can never occur to solve the problem. The people will just be ground to dust."

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Michael was having flashbacks of his son excitedly talking about Central-American history at the dinnertable. It seemed he'd taken a lot of lessons from what he'd learned back on Earth.

There was some back and forth between everyone, some arguments about justifying war with a neighbor when greater threats were incoming, but it all amounted to little more than a thought exercise. As dinner was completed and wine was being brought out, Gabriel waited for a glass to be poured and stood, gesturing to Michael.

"Michael, please join me for a glass in private. I'd love the hear of the salvation of Lataxia first hand."

Michael picked up his own glass and stood, following Gabriel out of the dinner tent and into a smaller meeting one. He muttered some orders to the guards and then walked inside.

Gabriel took a sip of wine, and Michael did the same.

"So. It seems that Pyotr got my message to you?"

Michael nodded.

"Good. I suppose we should go over the details of the transaction. You heal my brand, and I can offer gold, a title, material support to Hume. I would prefer not to spend too much time on details, but I'd understand if you don't find trusting me to honor anything I say appealing. One thing I can tell you for certain, is that healing me will damn many rift creatures."

Michael stood there silently for a moment, a soft smile on his face.

"You know, this isn't how I pictured our first drink together."

Gabriel looked at him in confusion.

"I guess you could count that time I let you have a sip of my beer while we watched Predator together, but that's not exactly the same thing. You were only nine. I treasure that memory of course. I still remember the face you made after you took the sip. I don't think I'd even seen a face scrunched up quite like that." He smiled a bit, small tears at the corners of his eyes.

Gabriel went completely still.

"I always thought it would be during a week you were visiting from college. Like Spring Break or something. I'd help you unload your things and we'd sit on the porch. I'd slide you a beer and we'd just sit together in the quiet for a bit. Vick actually had a glass of wine with me and your mother at a wedding. Laura shared some of a fruity drink with me when I took her to dinner." He laughed. "I sound like some kind of a lush, don't I? Putting all that importance on something like a first drink." He shook his head. "I missed out on so many things with you, but I was grateful too, for all I'd gotten to see you do and do with you. Smelling your head when you were born, watching you pull yourself up onto your feet for the first time using the coffee table, calming you down when Vick hit you for taking one of his toys."

Gabriel didn't move, but his breathing quickened and he began to sweat.

"Of course, you probably don't remember that. But I'm sure you remember that time I helped you with your history project on the Coliseum? Took you into the office with me so we could steal some prints on the nice printer? Or when I was teaching you to drive and we almost died swerving around that armadillo?" He laughed. "Remember when you took Laura to McDonalds? You were so proud that you were able to drive her yourself and pay for it. You acted like it was no big deal, but you were beaming the whole afternoon. I was so proud of you. I was probably smiling all afternoon too. I brought that story up with your mother dozens of times after you died."

Gabriel was shaking now, tears in his eyes.

"You can't be him. You can't be. What are the chances of that? Of all the millions of people that die every day? Of the few that make it here? No. I thought the name was an odd coincidence, but it's not like there aren't a lot of people named Michael. If it is you… that's not fair! You would only be in your sixties! You should've had time! You should be with Mom right now. You should be playing with Vick's kids, or fussing over Laura when she visits. You can't be dead. You're supposed to be happy right now. Supposed to be-"

"I missed you so much Gabe," said Michael, tears flowing freely down his face. "I am so sorry I wasn't here sooner. I'm sorry I couldn't help you, couldn't help you with some of your burdens. I-"

Gabriel embraced him and Michael returned the embrace, squeezing him hard. They shook as they sobbed. Michael patted his back, remembering doing the same thing whenever Gabriel had been upset or crying as a child. They'd been separated by death, been worlds apart for decades, and even found them on opposite sides of a new world, but they'd still found one another. After all these years Gabriel had his father back, and Michael had his son.