Anarchist Knight:Apprentice

He sneezed again and a blond girl about two years younger than Tobal came around the corner with a smile, wearing a spring colored dress. She was five feet four inches tall and pretty in a plain sort of way. Her eyes were a warm bright blue and danced with humor.

"Bless you!" She said brightly with a smile. "I thought I heard someone. May I help you, oh!" Her hand went to her face and covered her mouth in a startled manner. She was blushing furiously in embarrassment and backing away.

"I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, I was just startled."

He touched his face, relaxed and tried to grin.

"That's all right," the awkward moment passed.

"How can I help you?" She asked again this time a little nervously.

Tobal eyed her. She was too young to know about the medallion and the faded letter. She was younger than he was. Still his instructions had been to take them to this shop. Slowly and uncertainly he took the medallion off over his head and handed it to the girl.

"I would like to know what you can tell me about this medallion and how old it is," he said.

She looked at it, her eyes widened and her face turned pale. She looked sharply and asked in a snappy voice.

"Are you trying to sell this?"

"No, I'm not. I'm trying to find information about it. It belonged to my parents."

"I have to get father. I can't talk to you about this", she said quickly. "Make yourself at home and look around the shop a little bit more. I'll be right back with father in a few minutes."

Tobal watched as she stepped through a curtain behind the main counter. He heard her running up stairs into the living quarters. Suddenly he wished he had taken the medallion back before she had left. He fought down a rising panic. She seemed honest enough and it would be all right. Still he knew he should have never left it out of his hands. He didn't know her or anyone else in this town. If anything happened it would be her word against his and unlikely that anyone would believe him.

Trying to take his mind off the medallion, Tobal wandered around other areas of the shop looking with renewed amazement at finely crafted armor, ornate weapons, muskets and pistols. Some of the metal still had hammer marks from when it was forged and beaten into shape. Leather boots and woven tapestries competed with rich clothing hand sewn from the finest silks. Oil lamps lit ornate desks covered with hand written books and crude scientific instruments whose purpose he couldn't even begin to fathom.

Close examination of some items showed that not all of them were new. Some of the items were not only real and functional but had also been used. Some of the armor and weapons were sweat stained and scarred or repaired. He studied a Roman helmet and noticed the leather lining was soft and pliable with sweat stains on it as if it had been used recently. The bronze buckles were highly polished.

When he touched these used items he felt memories enter into his mind. Perhaps he was reminded of past lives when he had known, worn and used items such as these. Perhaps that was why they stirred such deep and powerful emotions within him and why they felt so comfortable in his hands.

He heard someone coming slowly down the stairs and headed back to the counter. The tread sounded slower and heavier and he knew it was not the girl returning. Whoever it was walked with a pronounced limp. The curtains parted and a very tall, distinguished looking gentleman with old-fashioned spectacles and long gray hair pulled back in a ponytail entered the room. Tobal stared at the spectacles. They were the kind of thing no one wore any more. Corrective surgery had long made any type of eye glasses a thing of the past.

He wondered at the odd affectation and suppressed a smile. Anyone that owned a shop like this would have to be unusual. The man was holding Tobal’s medallion and staring at it with a peculiar look in his eye. Almost lovingly the old man's fingers traced the outer circle and the two figures.

He looked at Tobal and said softly, "Do you have anything else?"

Tobal pulled the faded letter out of his pocket and handed it over. The old man's face paled as he looked at the broken wax seal. He carefully took the letter out of the envelope and began to read. When he was done he looked at Tobal with a new expression on his face. There was steely determination and something that looked suspiciously like newly forming tears.

The old man asked solemnly, "Do you claim the right of blood?"

Not knowing what to say, Tobal just nodded.

"Yes, I do."

The old man smiled widely and stepping around the corner embraced Tobal in a warm hug.
"Then welcome son, welcome! You've come home at last!"

The old man's name was Adam Gardner and his daughter was named Sarah. She was an only child. Her mother had died when she was an infant. She was only one year younger than Tobal. The way she pinned her hair into twin pony tails made her look younger.

Adam called Sarah down to mind the shop while the two of them went upstairs to talk. Tobal related what he knew while the old man sat quietly and listened. He was particularly interested that Tobal's Uncle Harry had been reactivated and there was new interest in his parent’s research. He was not surprised uncle Harry had discouraged Tobal from coming to Old Seattle.

"He was right," Adam told him. "Most of the people that knew your father and mother are dead. I think your uncle and I might be the only ones left and I never met your uncle. Your parents spoke well of him though and that was always good enough for me. It was a foolish idea coming here but I'm glad you did."

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