Title; In a Tavern in Barcelona
Author; Snowballjane
Rating; G
**
He drinks here more than is good for him, frittering away his hard won treasure on golden beer that tastes of puddle water on the better days, of cat's piss the rest of the time. But he doesn't come here for the beer.
He certainly doesn't come here for the company, although there are plenty who are more than willing to listen to his stories of flying machines and sun-powered cities with varying levels of credulity. Even the drunks mock him, claiming he has been driven mad by the sun in those distant lands. And perhaps he has, though no-one can argue with the gold he brought back.
No, he comes here for one reason only. A promise.
"The tavern where we met for the very first time -- that's where we'll meet again!"
So he waits for them here, in this place where he first saw the boy hidden away amid the barrels, listening wide-eyed to sailors' strange tales of a new world. What other new worlds has that boy seen by now? Is he safe? Happy? Has he yet realised the truth about his father?
He doesn't see a great deal of Sancho and Pedro these days, but he knows they are glad to be home and have no intentions of leaving again. They have spent their gains more wisely than he might have predicted -- on solid, sensible things like property and wives. He is happy for them.
But for Mendoza the return to Europe has always felt like an ending. Five years ago they made the passage back to Spain, the vessel seeming crowded, noisome and filled with smells after the metal wonder that was the Solaris. Still, the fragile timbers had survived the dangers of the cape and by the time the Spanish shores were in sight everything that had happened in the Americas seemed like a crazy dream.
He has had no real joy of the gold he snatched from the city before it was taken back by the angry earth. He has tasted high society and found nothing there to attract him. He lives alone and has need of few luxuries other than a well cut cloak and a well balanced sword. His waking hours are spent watching the docks or sitting in this inn, waiting. There have been other voyages in need of a navigator, but what could ever compare with what he has already seen?
His quest is over. He has proved the existence of the Cities and come back alive and richer, but to his surprise there is no real satisfaction in it.
He knows that he misses them -- the children -- the absence of the urgent need to protect them is like a gap in his soul. Not that they will be children anymore. Indeed, even by the end of the adventure it was hard to think of Esteban as a mere boy. The child who was frozen stiff by his fear of heights was already gone forever, grown into a young man confident in his own abilities. Sometimes a little too confident, but then with the Sun God watching over you, you could probably afford to be an optimist.
Another gulp of the lukewarm beer and the flagon is empty. They will not come today and he wonders if he is a fool to think they will ever come. Evening is coming on, he will walk down to the harbour and watch the sunset.
As he is about to stand, the door opens, and daylight spills into the dingy room. He glances upwards, shading his eyes. A tall young man is silhouetted against the brightness, holding open the door while still gazing out into the street calling to his friend. "This is the place. I remember that window."
The laughter of the two men is joined by a carefree girlish giggle, quite unlike the coquettish tittering of Spanish maidens, followed by a loud squawk and the beating of wings.
Sunlight has returned, brighter than any gold. He gets up to greet them.
The End