Calyanni's Heir, by Josh

From the balcony, Ernesto Calyanni looked down on the courtyard. In it, there was one of his less flamboyant, but no less sturdy carriages. Several servants were loading various items into it. His son was also present below, playing with his dog. The large animal was nearly double the preteen’s weight, but it was never overly aggressive. Even when the kid was teasing him as such: the dog was mesmerized by something in the boy’s hand, and his son was waving it to and fro, jumping and running just out of the dog’s reach.

Ernesto shook his head, smiling a little to himself. The servants that were loading the coach watched the dog warily. The son was not as nearly protective of the dog than it was of him, and it was notorious among the servants.

"Talen, stop teasing the dog!" A woman exclaimed, just coming in view of Ernesto. The woman looked without searching to the balcony, and waved to Ernesto. He blew an extravagant kiss towards his wife.

The momentary distraction provided by his mother provided a window of opportunity for Talen’s dog. The dog bounded on his master playfully, knocking him to the ground. It had done so many times before, but always on the lawn or in the house, never on something as unyielding as the cobblestone in the courtyard.

The mother ran to the scene quickly, only to hear a peal of laughter from the boy from underneath his pet. The dog released the boy with a treasure in his mouth. The mother made an aggressive step at the pet, making it scurry away. She helped her son up, admonishing him to his ear. The expression on the son’s face quickly changed to disagreement with his mother, but it was not something he voiced. He just nodded emphatically. With his pet gone, and stung by his mother’s rebuke, the son left the courtyard.

The wife watched her son leave and then exchanged a look of exasperation with her husband.

"It wasn’t my idea to get him that dog, Luisa…" Ernesto protested.

"I don’t seem to recall you arguing very much, either, Ernesto…" She yelled back. Ernesto laughed and turned back toward his study. He caught sight of a mysterious silhouette inside. Ernesto glanced back toward his wife, who began to direct the servants below. He stepped away into the house closing the glass-paneled double doors behind him.

With the exception of the balcony doors very little natural light permeated the study. The silhouette had taken to his desk not far from him. There was a pattern of repetitive tapping on the hardwood desk.

"You’re doing well, my lord." The shadow spoke.

Ernesto knew from the sound and contrived content whose voice it was. And when he paced around his own desk, he confirmed it. From that point, he could see the feminine form behind it. He leaned across and noticed a veil across its face. He gently displaced it.

"But I see the years have been kinder to you in appearance than in mine." He leaned back and rubbed the top of his balding head, a playful smile upon his lips.

"It is kind of you to say so, sir."

The smile dropped from his lips.

"Indeed."

The woman stopped her tapping. A few minutes of silence passed.

"It’s been more than a few years, Elena. What brings you to my home?" ‘Elena’ stood from behind the desk, walking comfortably across to the balcony doors. She looked out from the shadows, revealing her pale complexion, and into the courtyard. Satisfied at the glance, she loosened the bindings on the drapes.

The heavy fabric was impenetrable to sunlight and left the study in nearly complete darkness. The carpeted floor would have absorbed the sound of her footsteps should she have moved. And she did. She was at his ear.

"It may now be your home, but it’s far from your care. You and it have always been under my care. Well, not so much you, in that I have been remiss… Your bride, for example…"

Ernesto’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. The only source of light came from the door that led into the study from inside the house. He turned to face her, "And what about her? She’s the same woman that you met before your latest sojourn. Said that she would provide me with a heir, I recall…"

"And she has, hasn’t she. A boy. With an interesting name no less. Talen. What kind of name is that?"

"A name. No more, no less."

"Untrue. So very untrue, a name should convey so much more than an address. It should possess the power and strength continued from the title that precedes it… I find his lacking."

"It’s a little late to change it."

"It is, unfortunately. Isn’t it?"

"What do you what?" Ernesto demanded.

"To look after you, like always. Like when you were younger. You remember, don’t you?"

No response.

"I seem to recall that you were the jealous type, Ernesto; not only Jealous, but vengeful, as well. Hardly sterling qualities, but all us have our flaws, don’t we?"

"Yes. I also recall some manipulation issues one of us possess, and its not the one who’s jealous and vengeful…"

She ignored that. "Her name was Lia, wasn’t it?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Really? What about his name? I’m sure you’d remember that."

Silence.

"Now it was an interesting name… Was it Erik?" She walked around him, he avoided her gaze, "No, that wasn’t it. How about Enrique? No. That’s not it. Wasn’t it Avalonian?"

"Richard." He stared the word into her eyes.

"Are you sure? I mean it was only the man that you murdered. Perhaps the name slipped your mind… "But then it’s only a name. No more, no less…"

"You’re vile." He spat.

She ignored that as well.

"You lusted after her. Lia, that is. And she was such a pretty thing. Didn’t give you a second glance, though, did she? But that was because of Richard, wasn’t it. That was why she didn’t give you that glance. He was too handsome, too charming, too something… Wasn’t he? "Not that that helped him. Well, not against you. He wasn’t too strong was he?

I wouldn’t know. It wasn’t my hands that were wrapped his throat in the alley. It was the alley that was behind the bar that Lia was waiting for him in. But then she was waiting for you instead, wasn’t she? In the hour that she was waiting though, you dragged his unconscious body here to the house, tied him up and then, only then, did you

go back to the bar.

"You had a marvelous time, but you couldn’t tell when you returned to the house. He squealed quite a bit, didn’t he? All the way up until he died, at least. He wasn’t very handsome or charming then, was he?"

"I suppose not, Elena."

"You suppose not? He was…" Ernesto seized her, "That’s enough, Elena."

She smiled, "That’s not guilt, is it? I raised you too well for that, didn’t I? I am surprised at the dog; Ernesto, I didn’t think you much adored animals…"

He smiled back, "I find it amusing. It consistently bites the servants…"

"Indeed." She made no move to release herself.

"What do you want, Elena? If you came to remind me of the flaws in my character, flaws that you fed with your own maliciousness, then you can leave. I now stand reminded."

He let her go, but she made no move for either door. "Your wife, Luisa, how much do you know of her?"

"She’s a beautiful woman and a wonderful mother, why?"

"Your son has her eyes, you know…"

"I’ve noticed." He said flatly.

"And the Castillian?"

Calyanni was thrown a minute by the change in subject. "Luisa’s bodyguard?"

"The same."

Ernesto should have anticipated this, especially considering the previous conversation. Luisa’s personal bodyguard, Andre, had been a suspicious area in his wife’s life. Andre had not only earned his respect, but also his trust and friendship. Andre had never been anything but cordial and unthreatening to the marriage between his charge and Ernesto.

But it was an established fact that he practically raised Luisa after the death of her father even though he was just short of a decade older than she was. That made him privy to things that Ernesto didn’t know. But the Castillian was perceptive and anticipated Ernesto’s flaw, keeping his jealously in check by reporting on his wife’s daily happenings on request with no hesitation. He also was often the go-between when the husband and wife had their disagreements.

Disagreements indeed. Both of the two were equally strong-willed and rarely compromised anything by themselves. Their ‘disagreements’ were always

wing-to-wing arguments that caused the servants to vanish to their quarters and close their doors. But Andre was intimidated by neither, calling both out when he felt that either was being grossly unfair or pig-headed. Doing such often put him in charge of the house and its servants.

As for the son, Andre was more involved in raising Talen than either of the parents, and more protective than either as well. The dog had been his idea, citing responsibility and compassion as lessons for the boy to learn.

Still, Ernesto would, on occasion, suspect the Castillian of nothing whatsoever. Nothing whatsoever consisted of the following facts: the Castillian’s younger age, his handsome features, or his inability to court women. But at any rate, Ernesto would not grant any satisfaction to the woman in front of him.

"You object to the teacher of my son? Again, you weren’t here, perhaps if you were, you could have picked up on that responsibility. Then again, I’m not sure that the lessons that you taught me have been all that applicable in life."

Elena slit her eyes at him. He sat down calmly at his desk.

"And what if I told you that some of your suspicions were true?"

"So what?" He said nonchalantly, even though the witch’s accusation grated on his nerves.

"So what?"

"So what if some of my suspicions are proven true? I am the happiest I have ever been and I’m not going to ruin that by murdering another. Especially when that other is my friend and confidant. What do you want, Elena, other than to water my suspicions with your spiteful tongue? Make it quick, before I grow cross and do something you might regret."

She swept her hands to either side of the desk, knocking some fragile trinket to the floor. "I want you to listen to this ‘spiteful tongue’ and hear the bitter truth…

"I commented before on the eyes and the name of your son. The eyes came from his mother. The name was the Castillian’s idea. I want you to close your eyes and picture your ‘son’ in your mind…"

She knocked something else to the floor.

"Do you have it?!!?"

Ernesto was startled by her venomousness, and did what she said. "Yes."

"Then I’ll ask you this: If the eyes are the mother’s and the name is the Castillian’s, what Ernesto, is yours?"

And Ernesto Calyanni was frightened by the fact that he could not push the witch’s suggestion from his mind. He looked back to the point when his son had been born to them. He reviewed the years up to the present. He had never felt any attachment to his son, but had always disregarded that as a byproduct of his own cold heart. Even then, his son’s physical features had never taken on any traits of Ernesto or any of his line.

"No." He stated. But his mind was full of fire.

The fate witch stepped back and turned toward the door. As she opened the door, she blinded Ernesto with its sudden light. "I told you that marrying that woman would give you a heir. I was right. I never lied to you."

"Talen is your heir. He is just not your son…"