1.8: Being Excused

Back in the dining hall, now that her side of the table was mostly empty, Fox blithely moved her plate up several seats and encouraged Stephen to do the same. Once she was seated across from Elisa, she told them, "I talked to David earlier, and he already held that TV interview he told you about last night. Sure enough, as soon as they were in the castle a WVRN cameraman snuck out to get pictures of the clan sleeping, but found the roof empty. And when the interviewer, Travis Marshall, flat-out asked David what was up with the clan, David told him and all the world that you people had left the castle because you liked your privacy as much as the next guy, and you were tired of being harassed by Quarrymen in helicopters."

"Which we definitely were," Goliath rumbled. "And did he give any 'hints' as to where our supposed new home is located?"

"He mentioned your preferring 'sea air', so hopefully the Quarrymen will start scouting the docks instead of buzzing the castle. Anyway, the interview is supposed to be on the news tonight, but I'm sure we wouldn't be able to get the signal for a New York station down here," Fox added airily.

For which Elisa was silently very glad. She was sure that the interviewer had mentioned, if not outright hounded Xanatos, on the subject of the battle that had happened between the Quarrymen and supposed gargoyles last Monday night. The clan still didn't know about that battle, since it had occurred while Broadway was in surgery, and the clan's human allies had done their best to not mention it afterwards. Elisa knew that they'd have to find out about it sooner or later… but preferably later; not at a formal dinner!

A few seats down, Broadway was still eating with gusto, while Angela was eyeing him with concern. She whispered, "Dear heart, didn't the doctor say that you need to lose weight?"

Broadway guiltily set down his fork, but protested, "But it's all so good! And… and wouldn't it be an insult to the cooks if we didn't at least try everything?"

"You have tried everything. I'm sure they won't be insulted if you don't go for second helpings… Why don't we go for a gli—a walk together?"

Broadway slumped in his seat and said with a sigh, "Yeah. A walk. You were about to say 'a glide together'," as he glanced back at his crippled wing.

"Well, a walk is still a good idea! Come on," as she tugged at him while rising out of her own seat. "Father, Adam, please excuse us…"

"Of course," Goliath said with an indulgent smile, while Adam nodded his consent.

As the pair stood up, Hudson said to them quietly, "Remember those wing exercises the doctor recommended."

"We'll do those as soon as dinner has settled," Angela promised the elder as she led Broadway away.

Stephen was next to excuse himself. He picked up his plate and went to go join his mate, a rookery keeper who was fully occupied at the hatchlings' table, a rambunctious group three tables away. He said with a grin that he hoped his authoritative presence there would get the hatchlings to quiet down a little, but he doubted it.

Then Fox took one last bite of her pie and excused herself, after asking if the mansion had a workout room that she could use in a few hours, once her own dinner had settled; she had far more than the usual number of calories to work off! And Hudson also stood up to leave, saying he was going to check on the courting youngsters.

"Do you really think they need a chaperone?" Elisa asked Hudson dubiously.

"Emotions tend to run high, this close to a breeding season," Hudson informed her with a wry smile. "Back in the old days, we elders sometimes had to intervene to prevent the young males from coming to blows." He paused then, and added, "Mind you, I've never seen quite this sort of situation, with so many females competing for a few males…"

"Trust me, they can be far worse than fighting males in their own fashion," Elizabeth informed him dryly. "Before most of the males in this rookery clutch chose their mates, the fighting became absolutely vicious for a while. They didn't come to blows often, but their verbal battles and maneuverings turned into guerilla warfare. And the two times that it came to blows… females may not draw blood as often, but when we do, we claw in deep."

Adam heartily agreed, and added, "Honored elder, I would greatly appreciate your discreetly monitoring them, and providing a voice of reason and wisdom from time to time." Hudson humbly accepted the accolade and said he would do his best, and departed the table.

Bronx had been lying down on a cushion at the far end of the table, having been given his share and more of turkey and other meats by the clan's wide-eyed hatchlings. When Hudson left the table he grunted and slowly got to his feet, to follow Hudson out of the room. But the hatchlings at their table began calling to him excitedly, "Here, doggie!" ("It's not a doggie, it's a watchbeast!") "Here, watchbeast!" "Got some ham for you!" "I got a whole turkey leg for you!" "C'mere, boy!" Their rookery keepers chided them, but Bronx looked in their direction, then turned and sauntered over there, to enjoy their attentions (and offered food) to the fullest.

That left only the clan leaders and their mates at the head table, and now that they were more-or-less alone with each other, what little formality that gargoyles bothered with went by the wayside. Adam turned to Elisa and asked with interest, "So, how did you two meet? The story Goliath told us while we were in your castle ended with the clan's awakening in modern-day New York."

"You left out the best part!" Elisa lovingly chided her husband, before turning to Adam and saying, "Short story, I fell off a building and he caught me. I'll tell you the long story, too… if you'll reciprocate by telling us your story. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but… how did you happen? What little I know of biology…"

"Biology dictates that gargoyles and humans are not naturally interfertile," Adam said with a wry look. "That's quite true, I assure you. But in my case, or rather, my parents' case… when I hatched so early and my human characteristics became obvious, I was termed 'the Third Miracle', since there have been two prior miracles that have affected the entire clan. But in truth," as he lowered his voice, "magic was involved, not divine intervention. But please keep that to yourselves; officially, every gargoyle member of this clan is a devout Catholic who would never dream of using magic."

The light dawned on her, and Elisa exclaimed, "That's why the names! I wondered why the names of your people weren't consistently French, and included such odd and archaic names here and there. It seemed like they were from a list I'd read once, and they are; they're the names of Catholic saints!"

"Saints and martyrs," Adam corrected her. "The tradition was started hundreds of years ago, back when the clan lived in Notre Dame; the old clan decided that naming themselves after the saints and martyrs was another way to keep on good terms with the local priests. As I understand it, the first names chosen were all of French or ancient Gallic saints and martyrs, but after some English gargoyles crossed the channel to Paris and joined the clan back in the 15th century, the list expanded considerably to include all known saints. And the tradition continues to this day, even now that we no longer live in a cathedral."

"So was there a Saint Adam, too?"

"As a matter of fact, there was; he was a Benedictine abbot back in medieval Italy. But as I'm sure you've already guessed, I was really named after Adam of the Garden of Eden; everyone agreed that it was most appropriate for being the first of my kind. So, magic was involved… and that is the short story." He glanced around them, at the dining hall still full of people at the other tables, and though no one else was apparently looking in their direction he continued quietly, "The long one had best wait until we have more privacy…"

To Be Continued…