THE RIGHT TURN OF THE ROAD
Chapter 12
The first thing Gabriel noticed when he woke up was the terrible headache. He groaned and clenched his eyes shut, doing his best to ignore the pain that was all over his body and fall back asleep. When that failed, he was slowly forced to start thinking and trying to make sense of what was going on.
He tried to open his eyes, but the light that was pouring in from the window made him wince and bury his face against the pillow. It didn't feel or smell right. It certainly wasn't his pillow. He frowned and tried to recall where he was and why.
The last thing he could remember was being invited to Raymond's office. The commander had been terribly angry with him, as always when something went wrong and he could blame him for it. Everything after that was a blur, and Gabriel felt his head ache even more when he tried to think about it. Just what the hell had happened? Why had he been drinking this much?
After some more moments, he decided that he would never get any answers if he kept lying down. Ignoring the wave of nausea that hit him, he forced himself into a sitting position and shielded his eyes from the sunlight. What little he could see through his slit eyes told him that he appeared to be in a room in some tavern somewhere. He had fallen asleep in his uniform, and he felt unkempt. There was a terrible, dry taste in his mouth. He could only imagine what he looked like.
The events of the previous day started coming back slowly. He felt cold despair creep up his spine as he remembered what Raymond had said to him. Oh, dammit. No. The throbbing ache in his head suddenly seemed to disappear as he realised that it was the least of his problems at the moment.
He had to do something! Gabriel jumped up to his feet but lost his balance and fell on the floor with a mighty crash. He didn't bother to keep his voice down as he let out a string of profanities and got up again, rubbing his head. What the hell had he been drinking? And why had he wasted his time doing that when he should have been trying to convince Raymond to take back his words? He tried to remember what had been going through his head the previous day, but he was drawing an almost complete blank.
Just when he was starting to think that things couldn't get any worse, there was a knock on the door.
"What?" he snapped before he could stop himself.
"Sir, may I come in?"
Gabriel groaned at Gonzales' voice. Not that idiot, not now. He realised he could vaguely remember Gonzales being there the previous day, and he felt his face flush at the thought. What had he let that fool see and hear? The sergeant probably thought he was pathetic. Gabriel directed his anger at this thought, if only because it let him forget about Raymond for a moment.
"Go away!" he yelled.
He had assumed that this would be the end of it, so he was both shocked and furious when Gonzales did the exact opposite of his orders and opened the door enough for him to take a look inside. He spotted Gabriel sitting on the floor and immediately stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
"Are you alright?" Gonzales asked.
"What does it look like?" Gabriel asked, running his fingers through his hair and refusing to look at the sergeant.
Gonzales said nothing, so Gabriel guessed he looked just as terrible as he was feeling. He grimaced and tried to ignore the humiliation of having his subordinate – no, not anymore. Gonzales was the one with a job and a rank while he had nothing. The mere thought made him want to go back to bed and forget about the injustice of the world. No wonder he had turned to drink.
"I brought you some things from the barracks," Gonzales said. He returned to the hall and came back with a bag that he threw on the bed. "There are some clothes and other things from your room."
Gabriel ignored the fact that Gonzales had been to his room without permission and concentrated on the important matter. If the sergeant was bringing his things to him, he probably wasn't supposed to go back to the barracks any time soon.
"The commander hasn't taken his words back?" he asked, knowing that it was a futile hope. The only time he had seen Raymond do that was when he had had Zorro's sword at his throat. He snorted at the thought. That was exactly what he wanted to do to the commander at the moment.
"No, I'm afraid not," Gonzales said with a sigh. "This morning, he called all the men to the yard and told them the news."
Gabriel closed his eyes. "Dammit," he muttered. So, that was it. He was officially out of the army. Just like that. His whole life had just come to a halt, and he realised that he had absolutely no reason to ever step through that door and leave this room. What would have been the point? The whole city was probably talking about his shameful failure. Everyone was laughing at him and feeling confident because of the rebels' victory.
He heard Gonzales draw a deep breath. "If it matters at all, I think the commander is in the wrong. He shouldn't treat you like this-"
"Damn right he shouldn't!" Gabriel snapped. It occurred to him that it probably wasn't a good idea to yell at the only person who was even trying to be friendly with him, but he didn't care. He was upset and angry, and as long as he couldn't punch Raymond, the only way to feel better was to take it all out on someone else.
"And what are you even doing here? Do you think I need you?" he continued.
"Of course not. I -" Gonzales started.
"Then get out!"
"But Lieutenant-"
"And don't call me that! Or are you so stupid that you already forgot what happened?"
Gonzales winced and drew a sharp breath at these words. "Maybe I'll go and come back when you aren't feeling so angry," he muttered. Gabriel saw the hurt in his eyes, but he didn't care one bit. All that mattered to him was how terrible he was feeling and how he could do nothing about it. He didn't even bother saying anything as Gonzales opened the door and left, casting one last look at him over his shoulder.
Gabriel sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. His headache hadn't gone anywhere, and now he felt even more miserable than before. He supposed he should at least get back on the bed where he could be a bit more comfortable.
As he staggered back on his feet, he realised that something felt a little off. It took him a moment to understand what was wrong, but then he it occurred to him that the sheath hanging on his belt was empty. He blinked as he gazed down at it. He had forgotten to pick up his sword when he had been called to Raymond's office. Apart from his recent leave, he didn't even remember the last time he had walked around without a sword.
But it's not like it mattered, he reminded himself. His arm was ruined. He'd never be able to handle a sword like he had used to. The fact chilled him more than losing his rank. His skills with the sword had been his biggest pride all through his life. It was the one thing he had always been good at. He'd never forget the thrill of defeating his older brother for the first time when they had been children. Now he would never do that that again.
He collapsed on the bed and closed his eyes. He wanted to fall asleep so that he could forget about everything that had happened for a little bit longer, but he found he was too angry to do that. His heart was beating in his ears, and the mere thought of Raymond made hot fury go through him until his hands were trembling. He fantasized what it would feel like to hurt the commander - truly hurt him and make him beg for mercy and apologize for what he had done to him. It was a soothing idea. It was too bad he knew it was unlikely to ever come true.
It was another hot day, so Sergeant Gonzales was more than happy to spend his lunch break in the shade with a glass of wine. The day had barely started, but he already felt like he had worked two shifts in a row. He closed his eyes and leaned back on his seat, trying to find a comfortable position and relax before he had to return to the barracks.
He didn't like the idea of getting up and going back. A small chaos was on the loose among the men, and Commander Raymond had had to come down from his office to yell at them to get a hold of themselves. Gonzales couldn't blame the soldiers. Lieutenant Gabriel wasn't a very liked man among them, but they all respected him as an officer. Many looked up to him as one of them despite his rank and were insulted that Raymond would toss him aside like that. They were also afraid. If it happened to Gabriel, it could happen to any of them. Everyone was asking the same question. Who would be next?
Gonzales couldn't understand what Raymond was doing. Removing a perfectly competent officer form service was insanity. The incident with the rebels was unfortunate, but things like that happened. Gonzales was just glad none of their men had been hurt. But maybe matters like that weren't important to Raymond. He hated doubting his commander, but sometimes he felt that Raymond was too distant to the men. It was like he didn't care about any of them the slightest.
He shook his head. Who was he to think like that? He was just a sergeant, and his duty was to follow all orders even if he disagreed with them.
"Hello there, Sergeant. How are you doing?"
Gonzales turned to look when he heard Diego's voice. He saw the young man approaching him with a wide smile on his face. He was accompanied by Lolita and Bernard. Seeing their friendly faces immediately brightened Gonzales' mood somewhat.
"Oh, hello! It's nice to see you," he said and corrected his position a little so that he was sitting straighter. He lifted his glass of wine and invited the others to join him at the table. Diego ordered them something to drink after putting down the bags that he was carrying. It looked like he was getting some groceries for Maria.
"It sure is hot today," Diego said and wiped his brow.
"I think it's a lovely day," Lolita remarked.
"Easy for you to say. You aren't carrying all these bags," Bernard said.
"Don't complain. I'd be happy to do shopping for someone if I didn't have to go back to work today," Gonzales said.
"Oh, that reminds me. We heard an interesting rumour in town today. Is it really true that Raymond fired Gabriel?" Diego asked.
Gonzales grimaced. The news had travelled faster than he had thought. Some soldier had probably told someone in town, and now everybody knew.
"Yes, it's true," he admitted.
"Why would he do something like that? I don't get it," Lolita said.
"Nobody understands what's going on in the commander's head right now. Some rebels stole all the wheat that we were going to send to Spain, but that's not a reason enough to do all this," Gonzales said with a sad shake of his head.
"Huh, I guess the commander got really angry," Diego said.
Gonzales nodded. "You should have seen him this morning. He made us stand at the yard for an hour while he yelled at us. He said that if anyone ever makes mistakes like that again, he's going to have them lashed in public."
Lolita's frown deepened and she crossed her arms on her chest. "Not that I want to take Gabriel's side, but isn't Raymond being a little too harsh?"
"We all think so, but you can't make the commander change his mind."
"Oh, well," Lolita said with a shrug, "I guess this is a good thing. At least now there is one less soldier terrorising the people."
"We're just following orders," Gonzales said, though he did see her point. Even if Gabriel was just doing what he had been ordered to do, he had always seemed to get a sense of enjoyment out of kicking the poor around and making their lives difficult. The day they had collected the wheat from the farmers was still fresh in his mind. He suddenly felt a little guilty about having so much sympathy for the lieutenant.
"I didn't mean you. I know you're a good man," Lolita said quickly, flashing him an apologetic smile.
"I agree. Only good things will follow when Gabriel leaves the army," Bernard said.
"Maybe so, but I can't help but feel sorry for him. It's not his fault that this happened. If his arm had been alright, he could have easily defeated the rebels," Gonzales said.
"The rebels only took back what belongs to the people," Lolita pointed out. Sudden fire flashed in her eyes, and Gonzales wished he hadn't said anything. That woman had a fiery temper, and he didn't want to get her mad at him. Arguing about politics with his friends was never fun.
Diego seemed to agree with him because he turned to Lolita with a disarming smile. "Let's not fight about that," he said. "I'm more interested in how Gabriel is doing and what he plans to do now. Have you spoken with him?"
"I don't think I have the right to talk about his matters. There are no doubt enough rumours going around already," Gonzales said. It wasn't like he even knew anything. Gabriel hadn't said much before throwing him out.
"He probably won't stay here. I mean, what could he possibly do here now?" Lolita asked.
"Maybe buy some land and become a farmer?" Bernard suggested. Gonzales didn't like the cheeky smile on his face.
Lolita snorted in amusement. "I'd like to see the day when he does any honest work."
"Oh, stop it, you two. I don't like him either, but I think we should at least try to show some sympathy," Diego said all of a sudden, causing everyone to turn to look at him.
"You can't be serious. Have you already forgotten everything he has done?" Lolita asked.
"Of course not. I just don't think it's very civil to be so gleeful about someone else's misery. I mean, he lost his position. From what I've heard, it could be that his shoulder isn't ever going to heal," Diego said.
Gonzales noticed how Bernard's smile immediately disappeared at these words and how the boy turned his eyes down to his hands. He felt a little sorry for him. It probably wasn't easy to be in the middle of such grave matters at his young age.
"Maybe you have a point," Lolita admitted. "I won't say another malicious word, but you can't expect me to feel sorry for him. I know he's probably feeling miserable, but that doesn't change all the pain he has caused to others. Maybe this will be a lesson to him."
"I hope you're right," Diego said thoughtfully.
It occurred to Gonzales that there probably wasn't anyone in all of San Tasco who was truly feeling sorry for Gabriel. Whether the army's actions were justified or not, they had caused a lot of pain to the people. They wouldn't be sad to see the army's loudest and most visible officer take the fall. He didn't know if Gabriel had any friends in town – if he did, they hadn't shown up when he had been recovering – and most of his family was far away in Monterey.
He frowned as he realised that he was probably the closest thing Gabriel had to a friend in San Tasco. Gonzales wouldn't have described their relationship as such, but there was no changing the fact that nobody else had even thought about bringing Gabriel any of his things or finding out if he was alright. The thought made him feel determined and apprehensive at the same time. He knew what it was like to be alone, like the whole world had abandoned you. At the same time, he wasn't sure if he wanted to get any closer to Gabriel when he was feeling like this.
"Let's talk about something more pleasant," he suggested, deciding that he wasn't in the mood to think about that after the way Gabriel had treated him. He nodded at the bags Diego and Bernard had been carrying. "Is Maria restocking?"
"She wants to try out some new recipes. She'll be doing most of the cooking for the welcome party, and she wants to do her best," Diego explained.
"Maria's cooking is always excellent," Gonzales said. He never missed an opportunity to dine with the de la Vegas. Just the thought was making him hungry again, and he had just eaten.
Bernard chuckled. "We tried to tell her that, but you know what she's like when she gets something into her head."
"What's this party that you're talking about?" Gonzales asked.
"A Spanish landowner has purchased some land here. He's arriving with his son in about two weeks. My father thinks it's a good idea to throw them a party to properly welcome them into our community," Diego explained.
"That sounds great. I'm sure they'll be happy," Gonzales said.
"You're of course invited as well," Lolita said.
"Thank you! And here I was thinking there wouldn't be anything good about this day," Gonzales said. He supposed the landowner the others were talking about had to be Don Augusto. The army had recently started patrolling more in the south of San Tasco because Augusto Alvarez had bought most of the wine fields there.
Lolita smiled, and the delight on her face soothed Gonzales' worried mood better than anything else could have. "You're always welcome with us, Sergeant."
"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that," Gonzales said, glad that he had such good friends. He stood up and picked up his hat. "But I'm afraid I have to get going. There's a lot of work today."
"I'm sorry if we kept you," Diego said.
"Oh, no. Not at all. Believe me, it was nice to see a few pleasant faces," Gonzales said. He waved goodbye to his friends and went to get his horse. As he got up on the saddle and started the way back to the barracks, he couldn't help but glance towards the direction of the shady tavern.
Gabriel managed to get a few hours of sleep. When he woke up, his head no longer felt like someone was hammering it from the inside, and he could think a little more clearly. Unfortunately, this made him aware of just how disgusting he was feeling and how much more vivid his memories of the previous day were.
He ran his fingers through his hair and down the side of his face. He felt greasy and hadn't shaved. He was still wearing the uniform he had had on in the woods, and the combination of sweat, dirt and alcohol was enough to make him grimace at himself. No matter how desperate his situation was, he was vain enough to consider this unacceptable. He had to look more presentable.
The bag Gonzales had brought him was on the floor. Gabriel picked it up to see what was inside and pulled out a white shirt and brown trousers. He started to unbutton the jacket of his uniform, but he stopped after only three buttons.
Once he took off his uniform, he probably wouldn't be putting it on again. His fingers suddenly refused to keep going. For the longest time, he sat there with a hard lump in his throat. He had been so happy to return to duty and get his uniform back, and now it was taken from him again. This time for good.
Gabriel's face twisted in abrupt fury. That Raymond! He would show him! It didn't matter what the commander would do to him, but somehow he would have his revenge. He forced his hands to continue unbuttoning the uniform, but he was too angry for such precise work. When he failed to do it as fast as he wanted, he grew impatient and simply tore the jacket open with a frustrated growl. Buttons scattered all over the floor.
He changed clothes and tried shaving with the straight razor Gonzales had brought him. He wasn't entirely happy with the result and would have liked to get properly washed, but he supposed this had to do for now. He was all ready to go out and… do what?
Gabriel sat back down on the bed. What should he do next? He felt despair clutch at his heart as he kept thinking about it but couldn't come up with anything productive. He didn't have much of a life outside the army. He didn't know where to go and what to do once he stepped outside through that door, and he was certain that nobody would care. He felt a pang of regret at having yelled at Gonzales to leave. The sergeant was annoying, but at least he cared enough to drop by.
Gabriel grimaced at how pitiful he was feeling. This was not the end, so there was no reason to wallow in self-pity. He didn't need anyone. He could get his life back together in no time. He just needed to think about it first.
He got up on his feet and marched to the door before he'd change his mind. He had to get out to get some fresh air. When he opened the door and stepped outside, he stopped at the sound of laughter and conversation coming from downstairs. There were customers in the tavern. He suddenly felt awkward about going downstairs. What if everyone had already heard about how shamefully he had been removed from service? Would they laugh at him and look at him with smug malice, knowing that their heroic rebels had defeated him?
Gabriel gritted his teeth in anger. He didn't have to care about what the damn peasants thought. Let them laugh if they wanted. He was above them, and he'd show them. Somehow, he'd get his position back and then everyone who made fun of him would pay.
With this thought firmly in his mind, he walked downstairs. The conversation died when the others noticed him, but he didn't even turn to look. He marched straight to the door, opened it and then slammed it shut behind him before anyone had the time to say anything.
The sunlight felt brighter than up in his room, and he had to stop for a moment to shield his eyes. When he could see properly again, he started going down the street that would take him to the town square. He wasn't hungry, but he wanted to buy some fruit to get rid of the terrible taste in his mouth.
He kept glaring at the people who passed him, but only a few of them paid him any attention. He was a little surprised at how many of them didn't recognise him.
The town square was filled with people when he arrived there. It was like half of San Tasco had decided to do their shopping at that hour. He had to push his way through the crowd to get to the stand that sold apples. The man selling them started to give him a happy greeting but almost choked on his words when he realised who he was talking to.
"Can I have them or not?" Gabriel asked in irritation.
"Oh, of course! Here!" the man said and shoved the apples into his hands. He almost dropped the money that Gabriel gave him in return. Gabriel was about to turn and leave, but then a familiar voice reached his ears.
"If you ask me, I think the commander did the right thing. Something is wrong here when we keep failing all the time. Maybe we'll get a better lieutenant now," someone was saying.
"Don't say such things in public, you idiot," someone else said at once.
"Why not? What could happen? You think these peasants will run to the commander?" the first man said.
"It's never a good idea to badmouth your superiors behind their back," his companion said. "Even if they're no longer your superiors. And yes, I know you hate him for busting you for drinking on duty, so don't even start with that."
Gabriel scanned the crowd until he spotted two solders who were standing by the fountain and watching the mass of people. He immediately recognised both of them. The one who had spoken first was Claudio Pastrana and the other one Carlos Francia. Gabriel didn't know either one of them beyond their names, but now he wished he did.
His first reaction was to march over there and let that idiot know just what happened to those who talked about him in such a way, but then he thought better of it. He was still feeling sick, and he didn't want to start a scene.
Pastrana's laughter made him stop as he was about to leave. "Alright, alright. Don't be like that. What could happen? I mean, I hear the lieutenant was even defeated by Sergea -"
The man never got to finish that because Gabriel's fist effectively silenced him and sent him flying into the fountain. Francia jumped to his feet with a startled cry and started to pull out his sword, but he froze when he noticed Gabriel. Gabriel, on the other hand, didn't even see Francia.
"Just try to say that again!" he growled at Pastrana, who was sitting in the fountain with a bewildered look on his face. He wiped at his lip and brought his hand before his face, blinking as he noticed that it had blood on it. Next, he turned his eyes to Gabriel, and fear momentarily flashed in them. It was quickly replaced by sauciness.
"Why, was I not telling the truth?" he asked.
"Claudio…" Carlos hushed, glancing around nervously. Everyone else had stopped what they had been doing and were staring at them.
"Shut up and get on your feet!" Gabriel barked. When Pastrana made no move and only continued sitting in the water with a cheeky grin, Gabriel stepped into the fountain and grabbed the soldier by the front of his uniform.
"Careful, or we're going to have to arrest you for assaulting a soldier," Pastrana said.
Gabriel felt something snap in his head, and he suddenly saw red. With a growl, he drew back his fist and gave Pastrana another punch. The man fell back into the fountain with a splash. When he emerged, he was no longer smiling.
"Go ahead and hit me as much as you want. It's not going to change the fact that you're an incompetent cripple and not fit to serve in the army," he said.
"Shut up!" Gabriel snapped.
"Claudio!" Francia snarled at the same time. He grabbed Gabriel's arm when it looked like he was going to charge at Pastrana again, but Gabriel only shoved him aside.
"You stay out of this!" he yelled.
"Let's end this now. There's no point in any of this," Francia said.
"What's going on here?"
They all turned to look as more soldiers made their way through the crowd to the fountain. They were being led by a soldier who stopped to frown at them in confusion and anger. His expression grew sourer when he recognised Gabriel, but he didn't acknowledge him in any way.
"Alright, everyone, get back to your business!" he yelled at the people. The arrival of more soldiers had made everyone a little nervous, so most of the people didn't have to be told twice. They shot wary glances at them as they departed and returned to their tasks.
"Well?" the newcomer asked, lifting a brow as he turned to Francia.
"It's nothing. We're just having a bit of friendly fun with the ex-lieutenant," Pastrana said as he got up from the fountain and poured some water from his hat. He put it back on his head and flashed a charming grin at Gabriel.
"You -" Gabriel growled and took a step forward, but he stopped when the leading suddenly addressed him.
"Is there a problem?" he asked sharply.
Gabriel stopped to look at the faces of the soldiers he was facing. Some of them weren't looking properly at him, only staring at the ground or somewhere behind him. Others looked as hostile as Pastrana. He supposed they thought he had treated them unfairly somehow. However, it was neither of these facts that mattered to him. All he cared about was the almost painful realisation that he was standing before his own men as their enemy. No, not even as an enemy. He was nothing but a civilian troublemaker they had every right to subdue and arrest.
"Let's go," Francia said to the others. He was avoiding Gabriel's eyes, and for some reason he found that far more difficult to deal with than the open hatred some of the others were displaying.
Pastrana brushed some blood off his lips. "I suppose we can let him go since it's his first offence," he said. For that, he earned a sharp blow to his side from Francia, but it only made him chuckle.
"I'm going to kill you when we get back to the barracks," Francia said to him.
Gabriel wished he had something to say. Anything to make him more than just a passive onlooker. He willed himself to at least feel angry, but all his fury had disappeared with the realisation that he had been leading these men the previous day. Now they were all above him. It… it just couldn't be real.
He watched how the soldiers turned and left. For a while, he only stared after them with a constricting tightness in his throat, willing it to be just a dream. Then, as he was forced to accept that he wasn't going to wake up, he realised that the town square had grown eerily quiet and that everyone was staring at him.
"What are you all looking at?" he snarled. "Does someone want to -"
He was cut off when he felt something hit him in the back of his head. He stumbled forward from the impact and rubbed his head with his hand. It was wet and sticky, and he realised that someone had just thrown a tomato at him.
"Who was that?" he asked and whirled around, but nobody came forward. Another vegetable struck him in the back.
Everyone started laughing and insulting him. Gabriel froze where he was, only able to stare and feeling his face burn in mortification. These pitiful peasants, these… these lowlifes who had cowered before him only a day before were laughing at him! This was ten times worse than having to face the soldiers; this was like his whole life had just been ground to dust and scattered to the wind.
His breath caught in his throat, he started making his way through the crowd. He could barely make sense of their faces or the sound of their laughter. He almost stumbled as he finally made it to an empty alley. Nobody tried to come after him, but he could hear all their mocking words as he fled the square.
Gabriel leaned against the wall and tried to steady his breathing. His knuckles hurt from punching Pastrana, and the harsh movement had reawakened the ache in his shoulder. He closed his eyes and relished the pain because it allowed him a moment of rest from all that had just happened.
He couldn't remember ever feeling as miserable as this. He sank to the ground with a groan and buried his face in his hands. His life was over. He was nobody.
Dammit, it wasn't fair that it had to go like this! He was supposed to have a glorious future and be promoted! He was meant to get rich and marry Lolita and have many wonderful children with her. He clenched his eyes shut in anguish at how all of that had been taken from him. He wanted to be angry at Raymond and Zorro, but the despair clutching at his heart made it impossible to feel anything else.
It couldn't be like this. It just couldn't. He –
"Oh, hello there!"
Gabriel lifted his head when he heard a familiar voice call out to him. He had to blink a few times to make sure he was seeing right, but he was. There was no changing the fact that Dr. Timothy was leaning on the wall across the street, waving at him with a goofy grin on his face.
"Hey, Lieutenant! How are you today?" he asked and hiccupped. His face was flushed and he could barely stand. He was holding a large bottle in his hand, and it appeared that it was still half full.
"I'm no longer a lieutenant," Gabriel remarked.
"Oh?" Timothy said and frowned like he was thinking really hard about something. "I had no idea. I've been busy today, so I haven't heard any… any news. Hehe," he said.
"I can see that," Gabriel said, watching the doctor sway on his feet.
"No, really. I had three patients this morning. I deserve a break," Timothy said. He pulled off the cork of his bottle and took a long gulp.
"Say, what happened to you anyway?" he asked then.
Gabriel clenched his jaws and didn't reply. Timothy kept staring at him for a while before he started a daring venture from the other side of the street towards him. Somehow, he made it without falling and came to stand right before Gabriel.
"Now, now, you can't keep things from… hic… your doctor. Let me guess!" Timothy collapsed to the ground beside him and crossed his legs under him.
"Go away," Gabriel snarled.
"Haha, no, no. I have to make sure my patients are well, and I see you're not well."
"Just leave me – ow!" Gabriel let out a pained yelp when Timothy suddenly gave him a sharp poke to the shoulder.
"Just as I thought," Timothy said, nodding to himself. "You didn't heal well, and then you never came to see me. That's why you're in trouble, huh?"
"That's none of your business," Gabriel growled. How dare that man suggest that any of this was his fault? Even if he had come to see him, it would have changed nothing. His shoulder would have still been useless!
"But don't worry. Things have a way of working out in this town. You'll see," Timothy said philosophically. He shoved his bottle at Gabriel's face. "Here, have a drink while we wait."
Gabriel stared at the bottle, then glanced at Timothy. Here he was, sitting in some dark back alley with a drunken excuse of a doctor and with no future ahead of him. His career was ruined. He could no longer handle a sword. His own men looked down on him. The people who were supposed to fear and respect him thought he was a joke. It was hopeless.
"Give me that!" he snapped and snatched the bottle from Timothy. He took a long gulp and coughed, feeling the liquid burn as it went down his throat.
"There we go," Timothy said cheerfully.
"Don't patronize me, you quack doctor," Gabriel muttered and took another swig.
"Hey, you can't have all of it! Give it back!" Timothy said and reached for the bottle. They spent a moment struggling over it, but eventually decided that neither one of them was in the mood to fight. They settled with passing the bottle back and forth between them.
They were still going at it some half an hour later. Timothy wrenched the bottle from Gabriel's hand and brought it to his lips. He let out a disappointed sound when he realised that the bottle was empty.
"Hic! Haha, I guess that was that," he said. He struggled up to his feet, swaying twice more than before but still managing to stay up. "I should probably get back to my… my medical office, you know."
Gabriel vaguely marvelled at how much the doctor could drink without losing his ability to think. The former lieutenant was a big man and could take more than most other men he had met, but this little, scrawny old man was far better than him.
"Hey, you know what?" Timothy said as he had taken a few staggering steps away. He turned around and flashed Gabriel a goofy grin. "Drop by my office some time. Let's take a look at that shoulder and see if we can do anything about that."
Gabriel felt his stomach clench in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn't eaten anything the whole day. Maybe he was drunk, but after all the despair and anger he had been through that day, it felt good to see a friendly face.
"Fine," he rasped, and tried not to care about the way Timothy's grin widened at that.
"Great! See you later then!" he hollered as he turned around and continued down the street. Gabriel watched him go. Once the doctor was out of sight, he leaned his head against the wall and sighed.