Thank you to CinnamonC, Da_Undertoad_51, meeeeeeee (again! Yay!), Don'tlookatme (who forgot to sign in :D), polarbear257 (your review made me lawl), Darth revan reborn, Zaivex, and Jett!
meeeeeeee: Thank you for the review! You rock! Deryn was un-knotting knotted ropes. :) She was just bored! DMITRI IS EVIL I HOPE THAT TOO. Thank you! You are an awesome reader/reviewer! :D
Da_Undertoad_51: Volger is being a little stupid. :| I'm glad there were no nightmares! I'm not French, either! :) Thank you for the review! Keep on keepin' on!
Don'tlookatme: :) Thank you ever so much for your thoughtful reviews. :) You're awesome! I'm sorry you almost cried! PLEASE FORGIVE ME. It was a last-minute chapter name. :D This one was, too! I hope you can after this chapter. :D Thank you so much for the compliments! You are just the nicest thing. Thanks!
All original characters and plotline belong to Scott Westerfeld; I own nothing!
:)
Volger stood there, stock still, weighing his options.
He could go after Wolfgang, who was most likely irate beyond what was humanly possible, and try to talk to him. However, there was no guarantee he would listen.
Or he could sit back down and think about what just happened, like he had been doing for twenty years.
He found Wolfgang exactly where he thought he would be: on the deck, fencing.
Wolfgang lunged and advanced on the dummy without acknowledging Volger's presence. Volger made to turn on his heel and leave; he could see clearly that Wolfgang wasn't interested in hearing him plea his case, but he stopped. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It's now or never; I can't draw this out any longer.
He cleared his throat but Wolfgang paid him no mind and continued lunging.
This was getting perfectly annoying, so Volger took out his own sword and just as Wolfgang brought his blade down upon the dummy, the Count's sword crossed his, stopping him.
Wolfgang glared at him as he slid his sword down the Count's; the metal grinding against metal made the most awful sound, like nails on a chalkboard. When it hit Volger's hand-guard, it stopped with a clunk! and Wolfgang held his ground. His face was inches from Volger's, his breath heavy. He looked very determined and angry; eyes were wild with anger. Volger almost felt like he was looking in the mirror.
And then Wolfgang shoved off and jumped away from the Count gracefully. He stood back a moment and glared at him.
"Why didn't you stay with us?" he snapped as he crossed his sword with Volger's again.
"Wolfgang," Volger said as patiently as he could, blocking and advancing. "I made a very bad decision that I thought was right at the time."
Wolfgang rolled his eyes and brought his sword down hard. "You could have found us."
Volger stumbled a bit from the force with which Wolfgang hit his sword. "I looked. I truly did."
"We slept in the streets more times than I can remember!"
Volger jumped back to catch his breath. "Wolfgang, I am sorry. I'm sorry about all of this. If there's anything you want to know, I'll tell you."
They stood still for a long moment, the Count on bated breath. Neither of them uttered a word; Volger because he had no idea what to say and Wolfgang probably didn't want to.
Wolfgang sighed and tossed his sword away carelessly, not bothering to pick it up. He moved to the edge of the deck and plopped down, letting his legs hang in the open air over the side. He sighed again. "I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have acted like that." His tone was flat; Volger suspected he said it more out of propriety than sincerity.
"It's all right. I would have been just as upset. I'm sorry that I disappointed you."
Wolfgang shook his head. "No, you didn't disappoint me. I just wasn't expecting… I thought it would be different."
"'Different'?"
"Well, for one thing, I didn't expect you to be a count. What's your name? Your real name?"
Volger cleared his throat. "Ernst Johannes Volger III." He couldn't remember the last time he'd introduced himself with that name, and it was even more difficult to remember the last time he'd been addressed by it.
"Ernst," Wolfgang repeated, testing it. And then he extended his hand. "Wolfgang Alexandre Tsamporakis, the first, I suppose. Pleased to meet you."
Volger took his hand and shook it firmly. "Likewise."
They were quiet for a moment. "So… What would you like to know?"
"Start at the beginning."
"All right," Volger said, and he tried to think of where would be best.
"Do you remember how you met?" Wolfgang suggested.
Volger nodded. "Yes."
"Then I'd like to know that, please."
The Count didn't even know how his parents had met; he'd never thought to ask. Volger found it odd but humored him nonetheless. "We bumped into each other in Vienna- quite literally and quite by accident.
Ernst took a deep breath. The air smelled sweet like the blossoms on the few trees lining the city. It was his favorite time of year: when it was neither too hot nor too cold. The sky was blue and the sun was shining; it was a perfect day.
In addition to the lovely weather, he'd just had tea with a good friend who'd promised Ernst a secure employment for the next eighteen or so years. He felt accomplished, even proud of himself. Mother and Father were going to be most pleased.
He came around the corner and walked right into someone. He had no idea how he had missed her; it must have been that she was a great deal shorter than he. She was very, very petty first and foremost, in an exotic way. Ernst had never seen anyone with eyes quite so brown nor hair so dark and curly. Her skinned was tanned by the sun and the golden bracelets crowding her wrists jingled when she straightened up. The bright, vibrant colors of the flowing fabrics she was wearing made her look like an enormous butterfly.
Ernst found himself at a loss for words in the presence of such an unearthly creature.
Volger smiled softly to himself as he told Wolfgang the memory. "I remember thinking that she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, until she spoke, that is."
Wolfgang laughed. "What do you mean?"
The Count felt relieved and more relaxed now that he had Wolfgang laughing. "Well, after I'd gathered my wits about me and apologized, she looked me straight into the eye and said,
'You bootlicking, oily, brainless lummox! Mind where you're going!'"
Wolfgang laughed. Volger felt a faint wistful pressure on his chest and shivers down his spine.
"That doesn't surprise me a bit," Wolfgang said after a moment. "I can imagine her doing that quite well."
Volger chuckled. "It was quite an impression."
"What did you say back?"
The lady adjusted her shawl and her skirts and sighed in an annoyed manner. Then, after staring at Ernst for a moment, a look of realization and even more irritation came over her. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere! It's about time you showed up!'"
Ernst blinked: he had never heard such a pretty woman use such cacophonous language. He was in an excellent mood, however, so he didn't let her dampen it. "Excuse me, madam, but I believe you are mistaken."
That only seemed to sour her mood more. "Am I? You're the one mistaken! You promised me yesterday that we would have the permit to stay here! They're throwing us out!"She motioned to the open square behind her, which was full of horses and brightly colored caravans. Throngs of people of all shapes and sizes and just as colorfully dressed were standing near them, arguing with a pair of young guards.
Ah, so she was a gypsy. Though Ernst knew better than to call her one; for some reason, all of the gypsies he'd ever interacted with found the term offensive. "Traveler" they preferred.
Ernst knew just what she was talking about: there was a man than worked in the offices inside the building he was often mistaken for. True, they were both tall and about the same age and had roughly the same looks, but Ernst wasn't able to see the resemblance. They were mixed up at least once every time Ernst came by to see Franz. "I believe you're thinking of Werner," he answered, and then motioned to the entrance. "He's just down the hall, second door on the right."
She adjusted the brightly colored shawl around her shoulders. "Oh. I'm sorry about that," she said half-heartedly. "He promised me yesterday we'd be able to stay here but he hasn't given us the proper permit yet. I think he's been avoiding me. It's just down there, you said?" she asked, peeking around his shoulder, eyeing the two guards standing in front of the entrance.
"Yes, follow the hall and he's second on the right." Though Ernst knew well that they wouldn't let a common gypsy anywhere near the offices.
But it wasn't his problem anymore, nor was it to begin with. If she was going to be rude, perhaps she could use a good lesson. He stepped down the stairs and reached into his pocket to check the time, only to realize that his watch was missing.
He checked the rest of his pockets twice more just to be certain, but found nothing. Ernst cursed himself. He must have taken it out when he had tea with Franz and had forgotten to put it back. He had to go back in and get it. He sighed to himself, irritated, and turned on his heel to go back up to the steps.
This was going to be awkward.
The gypsy must have been a very slow walker, for he almost ran into her again.
"Mind where you're going, nobleman," she said, not bothering to turn around.
Ernst looked behind himself to make sure she was speaking to him. Confused, he asked, "How did you know it was me?"
She answered, "Your shoes squeak. Are you following me?"
"No," he answered. "I forgot something."
She laughed. "Can't an aristocrat like you just replace it?"
"It belonged to my grandfather," he said quite seriously. And it had. It was a family heirloom: one he and his brothers had always fought over who would receive it. More than that, however, he knew Mother would be terribly distraught if he misplaced it so casually.
The gypsy stopped in front of the guards blocking the entrance inside. "I'm here to see the man called Werner," she said matter-of-factly.
The guards looked at each other and laughed. "A likely story. Why, a girl like you would run off with the Kaiser's signet ring if we let you through!"
Ernst tapped his foot impatiently as the guards heckled her. He was late enough already and if they didn't just let her through or send her away he was never going to get to his next appointment.
"She's with me," he said from behind her after deciding he could wait no longer.
The guards stopped laughing and both they and the lady turned to look at him in confused silence.
"What?" the three of them said in unison.
Ernst cleared his throat. He really wanted to get his watch and leave, and if he had to claim her to do so he didn't care. It was better than going home without his grandfather's pocket watch at all. "Yes, he's expecting us."
"On what business?" said one of the guards indignantly.
Ernst shot a glance to her; she looked confused. "We're looking to take care of the gyp-" He stopped when she shot him a glare. "-the travelers in the square."
One of the guards nodded like he understood, though Ernst himself didn't understand what he'd just said. "You can go-"
"Wait!" said the other, looking at them both suspiciously. "If you're together, why didn't she come in with you earlier?"
Ernst searched for the proper words. The bell tower struck eleven, reminding him that he was late; a horse in the square whinnied and reared; and the woman standing before him was staring at him with a very bemused expression. "She was running late," he said finally. "We were meeting here."
The suspicious guard didn't look convinced. "What are your names?"
As she opened her mouth to speak, he added, "No need for you to bother, miss. I'm sure Mr. Volger can give them to us."
Ernst swallowed. She turned around and mouthed something to him. He furrowed his brow and tilted his head, trying to understand.
"There are other people waiting," the guard said impatiently.
Renee, was she French?
He mouthed it to her and she shook her head.
May?
"Mr. Volger, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave-"
She lifted her hand and pointed at a ring wrapped around her pointer finger. It was a golden band with a small, green stone in the center.
"Emerald," he said, sounding it out to her. "Emerald..a?" He'd never heardthat name before; only "Esmeralda!" he said quite victoriously, then cleared his throat. "Esmeralda and I are here to see Werner."
She grinned at him and the guard eyed them both suspiciously. "Go on," he said."But make it quick. I'm not sure Werner will be pleased of half of the company we've just sent in."
Ernst smiled politely and looped the girl's arm through his. "Thank you."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Esmeralda smile cheekily at the guards as they passed.
"They really fell for that?"
"I think they knew," Volger answered. "Or perhaps they just didn't want to bother testing your mother's temper."
Wolfgang laughed. "What happened after? Did you find your watch?"
"No, actually," Volger answered. "I never did. My mother was so upset, too... In the end, Werner went back on his word and wouldn't let the gypsies stay, so they had to move to the countryside."
Wolfgang's face paled and he froze. "Oh, no."
"What?"
He reached into his pocket. "It wasn't this watch, was it?" He produced a small pocketwatch, round and silver. It looked quite like the one that had belonged to Volger years ago.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, looking down at it. Wolfgang held it up in the light to see and sure enough, there was an E engraved on the cover and it was the very watch he had lost the day he met Esmé.
"Mother gave it to me when I turned sixteen! I suppose it belongs to you, though," he said, handing it to the Count.
Volger put up his hand. "Keep it; I would have given it to you anyways."
"You're sure?"
Volger nodded.
Wolfgang put it back in his pocket. "Thank you, then, despite my keeping it for the past four years. So what happened?"
Esmeralda was terribly frustrated when they left the parliament building as was Ernst. To seem convincing that they really had come together, he walked her back in the throng of disgruntled gypsies. Her wagon was green with gold trim and beautiful, intricate detail. Harnessed to the cart was a lovely, stunningly beautiful horse. It was a vanner, specialty Gypsy breed. Her mane was thick and creamy white; her coat almost like that of a paint with fawn and cream coloring.
"That's a beautiful horse you have."
"Her name is Calliope." Esmeralda stroked the horse's lumpy side as she slowly walked towards the cart. "She's expecting. Due in a week."
"Oh?" said Ernst as he reached to touch Calliope's soft muzzle.
Ernst had always loved horses for as long as he could remember.The family mares were getting older and weaker and it would be nice to have a strong horse around the estate when the time came to replace them. Father would roll his eyes, but even he had to admit that there was nothing like a gypsy horse, and the opportunity to obtain one did not come often. It was interesting how sought-after the horses were yet how shunned the people that bred and raised were. "How much?"
"I'm not looking to sell."
"Name your price."
"I don't think I want to separate them."
"But only one can draw the cart."
Esmeralda eyed him. "Perhaps I'll think about it."
"And when will you decide?"
She opened her mouth to speak but paused. A small, mischievous smile came across her lips. "Come back in a day and I'll tell you."
"I went back every day and she told me the same thing," Volger said with a small smile. "I thought she just wanted my money, but I always went home with just as much as I'd brought."
Wolfgang looked at him with a quizzical expression.
"I even went back after Calliope had her colt. I was there when he was born, we called him Zethos."
"Zethos? That old horse?"
Volger nodded. "Did you ever meet him?"
"Of course!" Wolfgang answered. "We rode him all the way to Crete with hardly any breaks in between. He was still around when I left, actually, though he was quite old. But I thought she didn't want to separate them?"
"Calliope died shortly after he was born. Your mother was very sad, but she did stick to her word."
"And that's how you fell in love?"
"No, not quite," Volger answered. "She still wouldn't tell me if she wanted to sell him, but I kept going back. I found that I didn't mind either way, just as long as I was able to see her. One night the gypsies had a fair. It was enormous and the gypsies from other parts came, too. I felt so out of place but your mother insisted I stay, so I did. The people were very kind to me."
Wolfgang smiled a bit. "Most of them are. Either that or they just want your money," he added with a chuckle.
Volger laughed: from his very brief experience with them, he knew that was what they were usually after. "It was such a lovely evening. I remember at one point:
The moon was bright and illuminated the entire area with silver light. Ernst found himself in quite an interesting situation: he couldn't bring himself to stop staring at the lovely person in front of him.
"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, looking up at him.
Ernst felt his face redden and he was glad it was fairly dark. "Sorry."
She smiled and held out her hand. "Cherry?"
Ernst took one out of politeness; he had never especially cared for nor disliked the fruit. "Is this what you always do?" he asked, chewing carefully so as to not hit the pit.
She shrugged and popped one into her mouth. "They do it every year. We usually stay for the summer; it's so terribly nice here, and then move onto someplace else once the leaves start falling. It's nice, I suppose, but…"
"Hmm?" Ernst said, taking another cherry when she offered it to him.
"It just gets a little boring after a while."
Ernst chuckled. "Really?"
"It's always the same thing. Travelling here, travelling there. Sneaking over borders and stealing pigs. I don't know; it just isn't very exciting after a while. I wish something new would happen. Something exciting."
Ernst felt a very strange feeling, a flutter in his chest.
"What was it?"
Volger braced himself for how cliché it was going to sound, but it really was the most appropriate response. "I had fallen in love. It was one of the best nights of my life. We saw each other quite a lot after that. I was always making excuses to go to the city," he said, chuckling softly. "That was the happiest summer of my life. We thought we were indestructible. It was shortly after that…" He stopped.
"That I came about?" Wolfgang finished.
Volger shook his head. "Not just then. Her caravan was leaving. We hadn't discussed what we were going to do at the end of the summer, but I knew I didn't want to ever say goodbye to your mother."
"Then what did you do?"
"Well, I had planned on waking up early that morning to talk to her and see if we could arrange for her to stay. But we were out late the night before and I overslept. The second I woke up I took Zethos and rode to find her. They were just passing over the border when I found her. She was sitting in the back of the cart, downtrodden. She must have thought that I didn't care."
"Did she come back with you?"
"She refused to! I promised her the night before I'd meet her early that morning so we could leave together, but she assumed I changed my mind. It took a bit of convincing, but I asked her to marry me then and there."
"After so short a time?"
"I don't think it would have been different if we had only known each other for a week. I knew I loved your mother, and it was a kind of love I'd never experienced before. I didn't want her to leave."
"So then she left with you?"
Volger nodded. "Yes. And a little while after that, we... Found out about you."
"Do you regret it?"
He didn't answer for a moment, choosing his words wisely. "We were very scared when we found out, I will admit. But once the initial shock wore off, we were very excited."
"..Do you really think I was a mistake?"
"Of course not," the Count answered promptly. "Quite honestly, I never thought that I would be a father, not until I met your mother. Then I couldn't think of having children with anyone but her. But we should have waited. If we had gotten married, we would have been legally bound to each other, and to you, and it would have been much more difficult being separated. I wish we had done things differently."
They sat in silence; the only sound was the soft splash of waves as the hit the hull of the ship as it glided through the water slowly. He had loads of questions he wanted to ask: he wanted to know absolutely everything about Wolfgang; what he liked and disliked, if he went to school, but there was one that had been burning in his mind for years. Volger cleared his throat:
"Is your mother well?"
Wolfgang looked at him. "Mother? Oh, I've no idea. I haven't seen her in ages."
Volger's eyes widened and his heart sank. "You don't mean she's.." He couldn't bring himself to say it.
Wolfgang stared at him for a moment, then a look of realization spread across his face. "Oh, no! Not like that; I just haven't actually seen her in quite some time."
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "I wanted to become a sailor, she likes being a gypsy. I never really had a sense of normalcy when I was growing up because we were always moving, and that's something I've always sought after. Of course," he said, chuckle softly, "working aboard a ship isn't exactly the best for that. When I was old enough, I left for the sea. The last time I saw her she was in Crete."
"Really?"
Wolfgang nodded. "We moved into my grandmother's house. That's how I met Captain Dakkar, actually. I was walking down by the docks and he introduced himself to me. I said goodbye to Mother, boarded the ship, and haven't been on land for more than a week since."
Volger processed the information. "Why sailing?"
He smiled a bit. "Mother has asked me that question so many times. I haven't been able to get enough of the sea since the first time I set foot in it."
"You certainly don't get it from me," Volger muttered.
Wolfgang looked down at the water. "There's just something wonderful about it. I feel safe here."
"You don't find it dangerous at all?"
Wolfgang smiled. "A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for."
"I suppose you're right about that."
And the two of them sat in peaceful silence. Volger stole glances of his son with a feeling of awe that this was really his son. He felt a pressure in his chest, a warm, blissful feeling. Happiness.
They sat for quite an amount of time; not speaking, just sitting. Volger was perfectly happy to.
After a long while of just staring into the water, Wolfgang spoke. "What's this?"
Volger looked to see what Wolfgang was talking about. In the water was a dress floating by. It was bright and the color unmistakable: yellow.
Wolfgang grabbed a longhook and balanced on the railing as he hung the hook down to snag it. He did after a few tries, and he lifted it out of the water. A bemused look came across his face. "Funny, my mother had a dress just like that."
It was soaking wet and made a sploosh! when he dropped it onto the deck. As he looked it over, Wolfgang's expressed became quizzical. "It was torn right there in the collar, too."
After a moment, a barrel went bobbing past the ship. And then pieces of splintered driftwood.
Wolfgang followed the trail with his eyes and then looked up."Hekate and Leto alike," he whispered hoarsely.
Volger raised an eyebrow at the curse, followed his son's gaze, and muttered one of his own.
In the distance there was a large pillar of fire. It floated nearer and Volger saw that it was not a pillar but rather a small ship, completely ablaze. How on earth did another ship end up here?
When he glanced down into the water, even more disbelief came over him. What he saw, clinging to a piece of driftwood and not doing much else, made his heart nearly stop. He was unable to move, like everything happening was a dream. He watched Wolfgang dive into the water immediately and blinked to make sure he was awake.
Wolfgang called to him from the water and Volger tossed a rope down.
A moment later, Wolfgang emerged from the water with his arms full of Esmé.
