Children of the Fountain Read Online Free Page B

up weakly with tears in his eyes. He looked older. He took Matthias’s hand and they found some comfort in the warmth of each other’s touch.
    The gentleman smiled, but sadly. “James, it’s been a long time.”
    “Mr Hardy.”
    “You must be Matthias?” The man regarded him with a fascinated stare before patting his hand softly. “I am Mr Hardy, Master of the Sandstone Castle.”
    “You know each other?” said Matthias.
    “I’ve known James for many years now. I was also a friend of your father’s.”
    “Mr Hardy, this is not the time."
    Father James had raised himself in his seat, his eyes never leaving the gentleman sat across from him.
    “If we are to go to Sandstone Castle, does the boy not need to know who he is?”
    After some thought Father James nodded. Most of the other diners had left now and the room was all but empty. The three men sat around the table; the Spaniard sitting at the bar and the innkeeper were the only others present.
    “Alonso,” said Mr Hardy, “let us have some privacy.”
    The Spaniard said something to the landlord and gave him a coin. The man promptly cast a quick look over his establishment before disappearing into the back rooms. Mr Hardy nodded to the guards at the door and they too left, but Matthias only heard a couple of steps after the door had closed.
    Father James looked at Mr Hardy who nodded his approval before clearing his throat and speaking. “Matthias, you are not the son of a farmer. You’re real name is Matthias Cortés.”
    For a moment Matthias couldn’t make sense of the words; it almost seemed like they had gone in and out of his head and he had only caught the gist. He stared back at his uncle.
    “Your father was Michael Cortés, son of Hernan Cortés and husband of Margaret. He was my brother.”
    Matthias leant back in his seat, the two front legs lifting off the floor. “You’re my uncle?”
    “Please. Can you give us a moment alone?” Father James said to Mr Hardy.
    “Of course,” said Mr Hardy. He led Alonso outside, gently closing the door behind him.
    “My dear boy”, said Father James, holding Matthias’s hand. “I am afraid none of this is how it was supposed to be.” He made an empty gesture at the heavens. “Your father never wanted you to end up involved in all of this.
    “He wanted to protect you. He made me swear to keep you safe and never let you to be touched by this dark world. He wanted you to live a long, happy, but largely ignorant life. And for all these years I kept my promise.”
    “What happened to him?”
    The old monk looked down as he spoke. “Not long after you were born our father, your grandfather, arrived at the abbey. He brought you and your sister with him and he told me that your mother, Margaret, had been murdered. He asked me to look after you both whilst Michael went to avenge her death. He never returned. Shortly afterwards a messenger brought this ring to the duke.”
    Father James extended out his hand to show the sovereign ring on his smallest finger he had worn ever since Matthias had known him. It was intricate gold, with a solitary coin on top.
    “This was your father’s ring. It is our family crest and the seal of Cortés.”
    Matthias sat in contemplation for some time but after a while started to feel restless. He stood up and walked over to the smouldering fireplace. Absentmindedly he played with the poker stirring up the coals. Sparks briefly crackled but were quickly smothered by the ash.
    “What is to happen to me?”
    “I believe Mr Hardy would like us to return with him to the Sandstone Castle, a fortress where the duke trains his young soldiers, some of them children even younger than you.”
    “An army?”
    “A force, called ‘The Guard,’ who serve the duke; your father was a captain.”
    “Who are they fighting?”
    “The Legion. The Guard and the Legion are two groups of vast and powerful families at war with each other. Make no mistake though; the Guard strive to rid