CHAPTER ONE: SOMEDAY OUT OF THE BLUE
SPAIN, 1521
Miguel lead Altivo along the cobble-stone streets of Madrid, his rapier dangling at his side. He hadn't changed much in the past two years, perhaps a little thinner, a little wiser, and an ocean sadder. Since he had left Tulio and Chel after returning to Spain from El Dorado, he hadn't done much except wander the world, just himself, his horse, and his sword.
His sword had become his best friend in those dark days on the road alone. Miguel, though intelligent, was never as sharp as Tulio when it came to planning. He was a follower, he needed direction. If you told him what to do, he could do it better than anyone, but other than that, he was more or less useless and pathetic. His sword, as anyone who knew him now, was his life-line now. It was what kept him alive now, what gave him direction, what kept him going from day to day. There was no one in all of Spain better than Miguel at fencing. No one.
His first month alone wasn't all that discouraging. Miguel criss-crossed Spain and Portugal. The second month he moved to France and spent most of the year there. After that he went to Italy, and then came Germany and the whole of Switzerland. By then he had seen all of the Balkans and most of Scandinavia and had visited his birth place in London, England before heading to Mother Russia and down step by step into the Mediterranean.
Miguel, at age twenty-seven, began having a few extra glasses of wine at night, to help him get to sleep. At twenty-eight, he was having a few extra glasses to help him digest his lunch. At twenty-nine, now, the wine was essential to wake him up in the morning. His world was collapsing around him. Not only was he a man with no home, no ties, but something almost as dreadful was beginning to happen:
Fencing was beginning to bore him. He was simply too good. He would make his living during his travels by finding the local champion, wherever he happened to be, and they would duel and Miguel would disarm him and accept whatever they happened to bet. And with his winnings he would pay for he and Altivo's food, their lodgings, and his wine.
But the local champions were nothing. Even in the big cities, the local experts were nothing. Even in the capital cities, the local masters were nothing. The was no competition, nothing to help him keep an edge, to excite him. His life began to seem pointless, everything, everything, without reason.
Without Tulio, he simply had nothing to live for. You'd most likely find him with his horse Altivo, and a bottle of wine sitting outside some stables, drunk and muttering to himself about the city of gold, and how he was a God, and how he'd given it all up for love, only to have it thrown in his face. The truth was, Miguel was probably one of the most unhappiest men in all of Spain, which was why he had returned there.
The two companions had fallen upon some particularly hard times as of late. Miguel's health was fading him. In his depression he usually forgot to eat, and slept only a little, keeping only his sword, a bottle of wine, and Altivo for company. That was all he needed.
Beside him Altivo's stomach rumbled loudly. Miguel smiled and patted his muzzle. "You're hungry too, eh old boy? Come on, I'm sure there's some one around here where I can fight for some food, eh?" he said. Altivo whined and nodded, gladly following the golden-haired Spaniard anywhere. Perhaps Miguel wasn't the brightest human in the world, but he cared for him, and loved him, and Altivo was forever grateful for that day he and his friend has saved him from drowning out at sea. Horses, like all animals you see, could sense a person's heart, and Miguel's was nothing less than pure gold, even if it was broken.
They wandered through the square, Miguel's bright green eyes aimlessly searching for around for a tavern or a good sized idiot to fight, when someone brushed his shoulder. A spark, like the fuse on a powder keg ignited in him then and he turned, looking to see the person who had brushed against him.
Tall, blade-thin, unshaven, raven-haired, and staring back at him with the same amazed expression…was Tulio.