An Act of Kindness

An Act of Kindness

February 5th, 1823-Mordred’s Castle, Whitfield, Paradise

The carriage sloshed through the muddy road towards the old and ghostly castle. The streets in the village and its villagers were washed away and in desperate need of repair. The lampposts swung in the sharp winds and the tiny flames flickered and sputtered in the lashing rain and wind. The buildings were wooden and some were falling apart, their geometrical faces frowned in despair as the rain lent their stained glass windows tears. The harsh angles and the sharp spires of the holy churches and official buildings sneered with disdain at Paradise’s fallen condition. Every house had the face of Death carved over their black doorways and even she seemed to bemoan the Shadow’s predicament. Shop owners were frantically doing all they could to keep their shops open, while helping others avoid starvation and eviction. Police officers ran up and down the muddy, broken streets in an attempt to catch troublemakers and the desperate, while street urchins laughed at them as they sprinted down the roads and women begged for help and change. The carriage raced down the poor road, splashing mud over Paradise’s citizens, and its occupant sighed as the great and indomitable castle grew closer and closer. It had been built by the Shadow’s most famous of kings, Mordred the Magnificent, and his mistress, Death herself, and it stood in the middle of the city. No matter how the wind howled and the rain lashed, the castle would not bend. The castle itself was in the shape of a hexagon and at each corner was a tower. In the center of the castle was the tallest tower, also in the shape of a hexagon, and on top of this tower stood the limp Shadow flag. It was deep blue and in the center was a flaming circle, Mordred’s symbol. This particular flag was ripped and torn, as it had been the last flag standing during the Battle of Cryspin-the last battle of the last war. The rest of the castle was connected to this tower by a series of walkways and on each side of the walkway was a blooming courtyard. The walls were made of a white stone found in the Kanas Mountains and were stained by the continuous rain and mud and the stone decorations groaned as the walls breathed with lost whispers.

The occupant’s cold brown eyes watched as raindrops rolled down his window and he tried to ignore the pit that was growing in his stomach. Every time he visited this place it felt as if he was betraying his son, but it was necessary. Surely Isaac would understand that. The occupant of the carriage, Lord Abraham Hotchkiss, adjusted his gloves as they reached the castle gates. His dark and long fingers wrapped themselves around the silver Minotaur head on his cane as he tried to prepare himself for the ordeal. “But is it necessary,” he thought wryly, “Oh, yes, very necessary.”
His carriage halted and his Minotaur driver opened the door.
“We are here, Lord Hotchkiss,” he said, bowing.
Abraham looked through the door, at the long walkways and vast gardens and frowned. His worn and beaten face was as hard as granite and as black as the darkest pits of Hell. Like all Shadows, his dark skin caused many of the other races to think his face was two-dimensional. Often times they were right, although it all depended on the angle his face were seen from. Sometimes it was two dimensional-his noses and lips disappearing into his ink like skin, and sometimes it was three dimensional. Abraham gracefully stepped out of the carriage and his long cane clicked against the stone walkway. He blinked as the rain poured onto his head. The Minotaur closed the carriage door while a female Shadow, holding an umbrella, walked towards him. His two dimensional face twitched as he recognized the viper-Noelle Glasgow.
“Noelle, it is a surprise,” he said, with a simple bow.
Her long black hair blew behind her as the wind swept past them, drenching them in ice cold rain. A cruel glint crossed her silver blue eyes.
“I thought it would have been poor manners to have you cross in the rain without any form of cover” she purred as she shared her umbrella with him.
“How thoughtful of you,” he sniffed.
“Come now, Abraham, there is no need to be rude.”
He stiffened as she stood next to him under the umbrella, the large raindrops drummed against the tight fabric.
“Please, forgive me, but the stench of a second tier leech always puts me in a foul mood.”
Noelle frowned, “It is good to see that you have not lost any of your wit or charm. We were worried that your son’s death had pushed you over the edge.”
Abraham tightened and his face darkened.
“If it is all the same to you, I would rather walk in the rain.”
He was prepared to take a step out from under the umbrella when she placed a hand on his chest and said, “And present you to our king looking like a drenched rat? I would never dream of such an insult.”
He fought back a groan and simply sighed, “Very well then. Let us get this over with.”
Together, they walked down the drenched walkways and huddled against the teeming rain and howling wind.
“I assume you are here because of the business with Eleanor,” Noelle said.
“It is a tragic affair,” said Abraham.
“You would know.”
Abraham looked at her and hid a smile.
“It was not like you yourself did not take part in her fall.”
“I do not know what you are talking about. I was simply looking out for my brother.”
“Such a dutiful sister.”
“But tell me, Abraham, what is your role today? You never liked to get your hands dirty, so, it surely is not to take care of Eleanor.”
They reached the main entrance and the great oak doors covered in geometric designs were opened by Shadow guards.
“Thank you for the pleasant company and for your thoughtfulness,” he said, gently kissing her hand, “But this is where our journey together ends.”
“That charm will get you into trouble someday, Abraham.”

Hotchkiss smiled as he walked down the cold and damp stone hallways. The flickering of the small flames casted dark shadows across his form as the rain caused the floor length stained glass windows to vibrate and rattle. The great, wooden doors that led to the throne room were thrown open, revealing a large two level room. The top level was full of chairs and it was where the various lords sat during times of business. As of now, only the Farin family, as well as Damon and Aaron Glasgow, were in the throne room. Philip, the foolish Shadow King, sat on his throne, his grey eyes fixating on the door. Philip was already starting to hunch over from the stress of wearing the crown and his once striking black hair was starting to grey. His crown, a single band of gold, sat firmly on his head, weighing him down, and added a pressure that none could see and only he could feel. Standing next to the throne was Philip’s youngest son-David-his large grey eyes looking at his father in awe. He was only five years old and Philip had already started to fill his head with lies of glory and the sins of the world. That poor boy was doomed to a life of misery, filled with the futility of trying to make up for a fool’s wounded pride, and the worst part was that his end would be long and slow. To the right side of the ornate throne was a long table, often reserved for maps or snacks for the long sessions. At this table, sat Eleanor with her son, Geoffrey. Abraham’s eyes rested on the boy as he hovered in the doorway, wondering if he truly wanted to go through with this. Geoffrey was small compared to most other nine year olds. His large blues eyes widened in joy as Eleanor helped him solve a simple puzzle and he would clap and laugh every time they put a piece in the right place. Each time he fiddled with a piece, Eleanor would either kiss his head or stroke his hair, whispering hints and suggestions. Geoffrey’s squeals that echoed throughout the hall seemed misplaced and unnatural.
“Ah, Abraham!” exclaimed Philip, rising from his throne, “Why are you hiding? Come here, come here!”
Eleanor looked up, aghast, as Abraham obeyed his king. He slowly strode down the throne room and noticed the Glasgows slinking in the corner. Damon, the Glasgow’s son, was the same age as Geoffrey, but Abraham could already see the wear of politics in Paradise in his brown eyes. Another one that was marked for life.
“Forgive me for being late, my Lord, but I was kept by the lovely Noelle,” he said, nodding his head towards Aaron, “Who I must say is a true lady.”
“I can hardly fault you for being distracted,” said Philip, walking towards Abraham and giving him a hug.
Eleanor wrapped her arms around Geoffrey, whose eyes widened as he stared at Abraham.
“I did not realize you were visiting, Hotchkiss,” she trembled.
“I am sorry, Eleanor,” said Philip, pulling away from Abraham, “I forgot to tell you.”
Eleanor stared at him, her eyes the size of saucers as she swallowed and tightened her grip on Geoffrey.
“Come, Abraham, sit down,” said Philip leading him towards the table, “Aaron, tell the servants we want some wine.”
Aaron nodded his head as he left Damon alone. The young boy stayed put, but his dark searching eyes were locked onto everyone at the table.
“Here, Abraham, sit here,” said Philip, placing him next to Geoffrey.
Eleanor kissed Geoffrey’s head and said, “Go upstairs-”
“No, I want him to stay,” said Philip, pulling out a seat for David, who climbed on top of the seat.
Eleanor whitened as she stared at the Shadow king and Abraham had to admit that he almost felt sorry for her.
“Tell me, Philip, where is Luke?”
“He is out riding his horse,” sniffed Philip, sitting down himself.
“He is an excellent rider,” said Eleanor proudly, “You should go out with him sometime, Abraham. You would be impressed.”
“I am sure I would, but I no longer go anywhere near horses,” said Abraham, smiling as Geoffrey looked up at him curiously.
“Oh, yes, I am sorry,” she said, looking down at her son.
“Luke is lucky if he does not fall off one of those damn things,” grumbled Philip, “It is a miracle he can tell the difference between its ass and its head.”
Aaron returned with the wine, “Here you are, my Lord.”
“Thank you, Aaron, sit down. Damon, come sit.”
Eleanor tightened as she realized she was being surrounded. She stared at Philip and, for a second, Abraham thought he was going to witness a murder. He looked down when he noticed Geoffrey running his small fingers over the Minotaur head on his cane. He smiled and adjusted it so Geoffrey could get a better look at it. The young boy gasped and looked at him fearfully.
“It is all right,” he chuckled, “You can look at it.”
“Geoffrey, put that away!” snapped Eleanor.
“No, it is all right. I do not mind,” Abraham reassured as Geoffrey studied it.
“I must say, Philip, that Luke and David are progressing nicely, but what of Geoffrey’s education?” asked Aaron.
Eleanor whitened and nearly collapsed as she stared at a smiling Philip.
“Actually I was talking to Abraham about that,” he drawled, “And we decided it would be best if Geoffrey stayed with him for a time.”
“For how long?” mouthed Eleanor, tightening her grip on Geoffrey who was holding the cane and smiling.
“We have not decided yet, but we determined a year would be a good starting point,” said Abraham, watching Geoffrey closely.
“A year?!” said Eleanor, close to tears, “Would I…would I be able to see him?”
“No,” said Philip sharply, “You would distract him from his education.”
David looked at his father, knowing that something important was being decided from the tone of his voice, but unsure what that important thing was.
“No,” said Eleanor, holding Geoffrey’s arms in a pincer like grip, causing Geoffrey to cry out.
He dropped the cane and looked at his mother surprised.
“You are hurting me,” he said, trying to pry her fingers off of his arm.
“You cannot take him,” said Eleanor, ignoring her son, “I will not let you.”
“You have no say in the matter,” said Philip coldly, looking at Aaron and Abraham.
Aaron rose, placed a hand on Eleanor’s shoulder, and said, “It is for the best, Eleanor.”
She fought back tears as she threw Aaron a deadly glare.
“Step away, Aaron.”
“Damon,” said Abraham, prying Eleanor’s fingers off of Geoffrey’s arms, “help your cousin pack his things.”
Damon stared at him and Abraham could have sworn the young boy knew what they were doing and he would have bet big money that Damon’s lips were curled in a twisted smirk. The young boy rose and took Geoffrey’s hand.
“Come, Geoffrey, let us go pack.”
Geoffrey looked at his mother, who was being held in place by Aaron and struggling to fight back tears, and slowly rose. He looked at his father, who nodded his head, before following Damon out of the throne room. David furrowed his eyebrows and watched as his mother snarled at his father, tears streaming down her cheeks, “I hope you burn in Hell.”
“You brought this upon yourself, Eleanor,” Philip snapped, rising.
“Then why punish the child?!” said Eleanor, attempting to rise, but kept in place by Aaron.
“I will take good care of the boy, Eleanor, do not worry,” said Abraham, taking a sip from his wine.
“Go to Hell, Abraham! I know you are behind this! Just as you are the reason my Lord no longer trusts me.”
“Do not blame him for your own deception!” Philip screamed, “You were the one who whored yourself all over town!”
Eleanor’s retort was caught in her throat as Geoffrey and Damon returned to the throne room. Damon was carrying one suitcase while Geoffrey was struggling with a large suitcase that was ten times too big for him. Abraham rose and took it from him. The young boy looked up at him breathlessly as he realized how tall Abraham was.
“Geoffrey!” Eleanor called, struggling to escape Aaron’s grasp.
The young boy turned his head to look at his mother and made a move towards her when Abraham, shifted his cane to the hand holding the suitcase, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Geoffrey looked up at him and Abraham shook his head. The young boy’s eyes widened and tears threatened to fall as his mouth dropped open and he started to realize what was going on.
“Take him, Abraham,” said Philip, “There is no reason to stay.”
“Geoffrey!” fought Eleanor.
Geoffrey looked at her and shook his head.
“Come,” said Abraham, taking his small hand.
The feeling of Geoffrey’s hand in his reminded him of Isaac. He frowned and shook his head to cleanse the thought.
“Geoffrey!” cried David, jumping off the chair.
Abraham and Geoffrey paused as David ran to his older brother and hugged him. Geoffrey let go of Abraham’s hand and returned the hug as David cried.
“It is all right,” Geoffrey told him, “We will see each other again.”
David looked at him and nodded his head, before squeezing him one more time. Philip walked up and pulled him away.
“He must go, David,” he said, as Eleanor screamed Geoffrey’s name, “It is necessary.”
David held onto Philip’s arm and watched Abraham take Geoffrey away. Eleanor broke from Aaron’s grasp and ran in front of Abraham. She fell onto her knees and threw herself around Geoffrey-pulling him into a hug even though Abraham kept a pincer grip on his hand.
“Please, Abraham, I beg you. Do not take him away!”
“Abraham is doing him a favor by taking him away from a whore like you!” sneered Philip, as Aaron grabbed Eleanor around the waist and pulled her away. She started to scream as Philip urged Abraham to leave. He looked down at Geoffrey and frowned at the horror on his young face and he felt the boy’s grip slipping.
“Eleanor,” said Abraham, his clear and powerful voice echoed throughout the hall, somehow penetrating her hysteria, “Stop it. You are upsetting Geoffrey.”
Eleanor gave a start and stared at him-ready to unleash another storm of cries and screams when Abraham cut her off.
“I will keep him safe,” he said, his dark brown eyes locking onto hers, “I swear I will protect him.”
She swallowed and slumped into Aaron’s arms.
“Now, we must be going,” said Abraham, as Philip shot him a narrowed glance, “Good bye, my Lord. Eleanor. Aaron. Come, Geoffrey.”
The young boy looked up at him as Damon, carrying the other suitcase, followed them out of the throne room-the great door booming shut behind them. They walked into the pouring rain as Noelle was no longer waiting for them.
“Give me a minute, my Lord, and I could find an umbrella,” offered Damon.
“No, that will not be necessary,” said Abraham, eager to leave these damned and haunted walls.
They walked out into the rain, Geoffrey blinking every time a raindrop fell on his head. Abraham and Damon raised their shoulders as the wind blew rain into their dark faces and down their necks as Geoffrey hid his face into Abraham’s leg. When they reached the carriage the Minotaur opened the doors and took the bags. Abraham let go of Geoffrey’s hand and said, “You go in first, Geoffrey.”
The young boy stared at him with large blue eyes before turning to face Damon who nodded his head. Geoffrey frowned and looked down before hugging his cousin. Damon’s sharp eyes met Abraham’s as he returned the hug.
“Come, Geoffrey, enough with this sentimental nonsense. You will see him again,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from Damon.
There was a sharp click as the Minotaur finishing loading the baggage. Geoffrey threw Damon one last glance before climbing into the carriage. Abraham watched the young Glasgow give Geoffrey an encouraging smile.
“Thank you for your help, Damon,” said Abraham, climbing into the carriage, “And tell your mother she has trained you well.”
The Minotaur closed the door as Geoffrey peered around Abraham at his young cousin standing in the rain and shooting the carriage an amused glare. There was a creak as the carriage took off. Geoffrey craned his neck and watched the castle disappear through the raindrop covered back window. Abraham let out a sigh of relief as they rode through the castle gates. Thank God. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the carriage wall while Geoffrey watched his home disappear. The young boy let out a squeak as the carriage thundered down the muddy road. Abraham smiled.
“The potholes get worse with each passing day.”
Geoffrey gave a start before he turned around and slumped into his chair, dejectedly, as the castle disappeared from view. He knitted his eyebrows when he realized that the background was unfamiliar. The young boy glued his nose to the side window and watched as the great and dying city turned into large and ancient evergreens. He smiled as he watched squirrels dance across the trees and gasped when he saw a deer run alongside them before turning right and disappearing into the deep forest greens. The rain was letting up and the sun wrestled with the dark clouds. Abraham hid a smile as he watched the young Shadow.
“Have you never seen the forest?” he asked.
Geoffrey slowly turned around and his large blue eyes shook.
“Mom said it was not safe for someone like me, sir,” he muttered.
“Like you?”
“You know, sir…stupid,” he blushed looking down at the chair floor.
Abraham’s two dimensional face softened and he said, “You are not stupid, Geoffrey. You are innocent.”
Geoffrey looked up at him and from this angle Abraham could have sworn it was Isaac sitting next to him. Abraham gasped and his dark skin drained of its color. Dear God, all he needs is the silver blonde hair and he could be Isaac’s identical twin.
“I am never going to see my family again, am I, sir?”
Abraham blinked.
“What?”
“You are taking me away forever, sir…are you not?”
“No,” said Abraham shaking his head, “I will not keep you from them unless your father wishes it.”
“But you are going to keep me from mother, sir, aren’t you?” said Geoffrey, his blue eyes staring at him like a lost puppy.
Abraham frowned, “Those were your father’s direct orders.”
Geoffrey’s practically invisible lips quivered as they tumbled into a frown and he crumbled into his seat.
“Why does he hate her, sir?”
“She broke his heart.”
Geoffrey gasped as the carriage halted. He jumped to the window and looked at the tall and ancient manor. The rain had stopped and the sun was filtering through the dark clouds, highlighting the dark manor.
“Come, Geoffrey,” said Abraham as the Minotaur opened the door.
Geoffrey scurried after Abraham and grabbed his hand as he was overcome by the very size of his new home. It was an ancient piece of Shadow history built by Abraham’s ancestors, built from stones that had seen the birth of the world, and worn down by rain that had witnessed Mordred’s and Death’s great love affair and the birth of the Shadows. The windows were dark and stared down at them as Geoffrey marveled at how the house breathed. Abraham led him to the great, black, oak doors as the Minotaur brought in their bags. Geoffrey flinched at Death’s carved dark and mournful face guarding the doorway and tore his eyes away from her sad eyes and studied the grounds. The house was surrounded by tall and vibrant trees and down a small path, Geoffrey saw a smaller house made out of river rocks. He tightened his grip on Abraham’s hand as they walked up the stone steps and Abraham opened the creaking door. He gently pushed Geoffrey inside and he took the suitcases from the Minotaur. He placed them in the cool and dark foyer before taking a few coins out of his pocket and handed them to the Minotaur.
“Thank you, Master Hotchkiss, the wife will be up later tonight to cook dinner for you and the young one,” said the Minotaur, nodding his head before walking back to the carriage.
Abraham closed the front door and saw Geoffrey standing in the middle of the hallway, his mouth open as he studied the foyer. The entire first floor of the mansion had marble floors and the walls were held up by marble columns. The house stretched for eternity and rose as high as the clouds. It breathed of Shadow history and Geoffrey could have sworn it was studying him.
“Come, Geoffrey,” said Abraham, handing one suitcase to Geoffrey and taking the other, “I will show you your room.”
As Abraham led Geoffrey towards the spiraling staircase, Geoffrey noticed a painting of a young male Shadow, in his military dress blues, with sharp brown eyes and silver blonde hair. Geoffrey stopped and stared at him as Abraham walked up the steps.
“Sir, is that going to be my new brother?”
Abraham turned around with furrowed eyebrows and nearly dropped the suitcase when he realized that Geoffrey was looking at Isaac’s portrait. His two-dimensional face softened as his partially visible lips quivered and a lump formed in his throat. Geoffrey watched Abraham and slowly realized he had said something wrong.
He bowed his head and muttered, “Please forgive me, my Lord.”
“It is all right,” Abraham gulped to clear his throat, “It is all right. Come.”
Geoffrey, dragging the suitcase behind him, followed Abraham up the marble stairs. They walked up to the third floor, down a long hallway, took a right, and walked up another staircase, until Abraham opened the door to a grand corner room. Geoffrey dropped his suitcase and gasped when he entered the room. It was as big as their library back at Mordred’s Castle! It was round and had floor length windows that overlooked the vast forest. Geoffrey ran to the window, put his hands and nose on the glass, and watched as birds floated in the air, squirrels danced, and the branches swayed. Abraham smiled and moved Geoffrey’s suitcases closer to the large dresser.
“Make yourself at home, Geoffrey.”
The young boy turned around and stared at him.
“I will be downstairs.”
“Sir, wait!”
Abraham paused and stared at him expectantly.
“Do we live alone here, sir?”
“For the most part,” nodded Abraham, “Mr. and Mrs. Mumford come up to cook and clean and I have a number of servants, but I am mostly left alone.”
Geoffrey frowned, “You must have been so lonely, sir.”
Abraham’s eyes widened in shock.
“There were times.”
Geoffrey nodded his head and went back to looking out the window. Abraham stood and watched, amazed at how much he looked like Isaac.

Weeks went by and, if truth be told, Abraham hardly remembered taking Geoffrey away from Eleanor and Philip. The young boy spent all day in his room, coming down only to eat, and never said anything at the dinner table unless directly spoken to. Abraham tried to entertain him with the baby grand piano, the library, playing chess, and walking around the grounds, but the boy would not open up. He was concerned, but figured that it was simply the boy missing his family. He would grow out of it. One night, during a horrible lightning storm, Abraham found it impossible to sleep. He had tried reading, but that had proved to be more frustrating than relaxing, so he rose, slipped on his robe, and wandered the halls of the lonely manor. He absentmindedly traced old, familiar steps as his mind flirted through the past, remembering the beautiful and the profane, the meaningless and the meaningful. The lightning flew across the sky, striking trees, and highlighting the dark skies as earthquakes of thunder pounded against the manor’s walls. Abraham wandered up the stairs and groaned as his joints started to ache. It was ridiculous how he could not even walk around his own home without his cane. Deep in thought, he walked passed Geoffrey’s room and would have kept walking if he had not heard someone crying. He paused and turned around, surprised, honestly forgetting that Geoffrey was living with him now. He pushed the door open and called, “Isaac?”
The crying stopped abruptly and he watched something dive under the covers.
“Isaac?” he laughed as he entered the room, “What is wrong?”
A crop of rich black hair and two wide blue eyes peered over the covers and stared at him. Abraham gave a start and paused halfway across the room.
“Geoffrey?!” he exclaimed, kicking himself for his stupidity.
“You foolish sentimental old man. Isaac is dead.”
He walked to the foot of Geoffrey’s bed as the young boy disappeared under the covers again. Abraham smiled and sat down.
“What is wrong, Geoffrey?”
“Nothing, sir,” spoke the shaking blanket.
“Why were you crying?”
Geoffrey peered over the blankets once more and said, “I wasn’t.”
Abraham stared at him knowingly.
Geoffrey looked down ashamed and admitted, “I was sniffy, that’s all, sir.”
He chuckled, “All right, why were you sniffy?”
Geoffrey jumped under the covers and squealed as a flash of lightning streaked across the sky. Abraham looked out the window and smiled.
“Are you afraid of the lightning?”
“No,” mumbled the shaking blankets.
“Geoffrey.”
“Well…” said the blob crawling towards Abraham. Geoffrey poked his head out of the blanket, on the side closest to Abraham, “It is not just the lightning, sir. It is the thunder and I think there is a monster in the corner over there.”
Abraham raised a practically invisible eyebrow and turned. He rose and walked towards the corner.
“No!” cried Geoffrey, reaching out to him and nearly falling off the bed, “It will get you!”
“This monster,” said Abraham, pointing at one of his jackets thrown over the chair that sat in the corner of the room.
Geoffrey sheepishly nodded his head and hid again as lightning flashed across the sky. Abraham shook his head and returned to the end of the bed.
“How about this,” he told the shaking mound, “I will stay here until the storm ends and I will scare all of the monsters away.”
Geoffrey peered from under the covers once more and said, “Really?”
“Really.”
Geoffrey climbed out from under the covers and nodded his head.
“That would be nice, sir.”
“Good, now come here and stop calling me sir,” said Abraham, walking to the head of the bed, “Call me…Abraham.”
“Yes, si-Abraham,” said Geoffrey, following him to the pillows.
Abraham pulled the covers back and climbed into bed. Geoffrey sat next to him awkwardly as thunder shook the house. He jumped and grabbed onto Abraham’s arm, causing the old Lord to laugh.
“Come here,” he said, wrapping an arm around the young boy.
Geoffrey nestled into his arm and hid his face into Abraham’s chest. The lord smiled and gently rubbed Geoffrey’s arm.
“It is all right. It is just a storm. It will pass.”
Geoffrey tightened his grip on Abraham’s shirt and buried his face deeper into his chest.
“It is all right, Isaac,” he said, absentmindedly watching the magnificent storm, “It cannot hurt us.”
Geoffrey looked up as Abraham continued to watch the storm.
“Si-Abraham, who is Isaac?”
Abraham gave a start and looked down at Geoffrey, locking onto his large blue eyes.
“What?”
“Who is Isaac?”
Abraham’s eyes widened as he gasped, “Did I call you that again?”
Geoffrey nodded his head.
“I am sorry,” Abraham moaned, resting his head against the headboard.
“Who is he?” pressed Geoffrey.
“He was my son,” Abraham choked, fighting the lump and tears that were threatening to fall.
Geoffrey furrowed his dark eyebrows.
“What happened to him?”
“He died during the last war,” said Abraham, facing the window so Geoffrey would not see his tears.
Geoffrey snuggled closer to Abraham and gave him a small hug. The old lord looked down and smiled bitter sweetly as he stroked Geoffrey’s soft hair.
“You should get some sleep, Geoffrey. It is late and you need to rest.”
Geoffrey nodded his head and made himself comfortable, snuggling closer to Abraham. He closed his eyes and sighed contently as Abraham leant his head against the wall, thinking about his son and the war and everything that had been destroyed because of one man’s pride. Hours later, he jumped as Geoffrey shifted. He had forgotten about the young boy. Abraham smiled at Geoffrey’s sleeping form and did not have the heart to move even though the storm had passed and he needed to go to bed. Instead, he shifted and rested his head against one of Geoffrey’s pillows. He held the young boy close, smiled, and fell asleep.