Cavall's Three Days of Giving

     The Cybunny let out a breath that formed a misty white cloud in front of his face.

     “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while, Theodosia,” he mumbled. “I was supposed to visit, sometime after I became a squire, but I got really busy, and so much happened between that time, and now. So, I better start from the beginning.”

     He shifted from foot to foot.

     “I’m sorry I never got to tell you my secret. I told you my name was Cavall, when we first met. You thought I was a poor orphan. And for a long time, I didn’t know whether to tell you the truth or not. Because my real name is – no, was Cathton Wincott, and I’m the heir to the Wincott family. Well, now I’m the lord, a lord-in-waiting since I’m not yet of age…but before that, I ran away from home, I thought my parents were dead for a while, and our mansion burned down. Then, Sir Rohane took me in as his squire, he taught me so many things, and I finally decided…decided to tell everyone who I really am.

     “We found my parents, and after everything they’ve done to the kingdom, to others, and to me, they’re in the dungeon. The magistrates immediately started trying their cases and of course, I had to be the main witness for all of it.” Cavall paused to laugh hollowly. “It all sounds like a crazy story, I know.” He cleared his throat, his ears drooping. “I wish I could’ve told you about me, the real me, before you passed, but…”

     A tear traced its way down his cheek. He scrubbed it away quickly.

     “But that’s in the past. I also wish I could’ve had one more Day of Giving with you before you got sick,” he said, before adjusting his hat against the suddenly more hostile breeze. “I’m glad I got to say thank you, and goodbye, at least.”

     Cavall turned away before looking over his shoulder, breathing in, and smiling slightly.

     “I’ll bring you flowers when it’s spring. And…and thank you, again. For everything. I love you.”

     * * *

     “What is this?” asked Lotham, staring down at the tray and the folded blanket pushed into his cell. The tray had a covered dish, a set of thick wooden utensils, and a mug made out of the same wood and filled with hot tea.

     “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back,” the Blue Draik guard said, reaching out for the items. But the Royal Usul gave him a venomous glare before pulling the tray and the blanket into his space. Whipping the lid from the pan, he was greeted by a cloud of steam before he saw the mix of meat and vegetables all under a cheesy, crunchy crust. The Draik shut the door immediately with a decisive clang, but lingered next to it, halberd at the ready.

     Taking his wooden spoon, he dug into the dish and shoved the food into his mouth. He gasped.

     “Elesia!” he cried. “Did you – “

     “Yes,” came the voice of the royal Cybunny. Lotham looked through the bars at her in the cell across from his. She had a similar tray and blanket, and her eyes were wide as she ate. “It’s…it’s almost like the Day of Giving casserole I used to make.”

     Lotham rounded on the Draik, gripping his door. He also saw the Green Kacheek who was similarly guarding Elesia.

     “It was him, wasn’t it?”

     “What are you talking about?” The Blue Draik fluttered his mechanical wings irritably.

     “No one else would know what’s in Elesia’s casserole,” Lotham hissed. “Is he mocking us after throwing us into the dungeon? Suddenly he’s giving us…he’s sending us food and blankets, for the Day of Giving?”

     The Green Kacheek guard shrugged. “All we got were instructions to make a batch of this casserole for you two, to last for a few days, and to make sure you were warm this winter. We don’t know who gave the order.”

     “Oh, we know,” said Elesia darkly, waving her spoon. “You don’t have to tell us anything. Hmph, what a pathetic boy. He comes looking for us, brings the knights with him, strips us of all our power and fortune, and then thinks he can play the nice son again? Especially after he changed the name we gave him?” She threw down her dish – though by this time, it was completely empty, and the Kacheek moved to take it away.

     “Like my buddy said, if you don’t want it – “

     “We never said we didn’t want it!” shouted Lotham hoarsely, before taking a swig of his tea and realizing that it was still too hot.

     * * *

     Cavall held his breath as he watched Rohane unwrap his present. The simple brown paper wrapping and the gilded string fell away to reveal a box measuring about a foot square. Stamped over the box lid, in bold black lettering, was “Armoury Essentials”, and engraved into the side was the White Blumaroo’s name.

     Rohane gasped – and Cavall jumped in his seat.

     “Different polishing rags, three tins of their finest sword and armour polish, brushes for dusting, oil and cleaning fluid, whetstones…what is this tucked in between the stones? It feels like velvet…”

     “They told me it’s a pouch that lets you carry some of that with you,” said Cavall as Rohane unfolded the pouch and examined its texture and the little pockets sewn into it. “So you’re not lugging the box around. Oh, um, look into the pouch. I asked them to put something in it.”

     Inside the pouch was a card – as simple as the wrapping, with only a stylized and curling ink border. Written on the card, in Cavall’s neat script, were the words, “Dear Sir, thank you for everything that you’ve done for Meridell, and for me. Happy Day of Giving. – Cavall Wincott.”

     “Cavall, I…” Rohane smiled as he replaced the pouch and covered the box, setting it down next to him. “Thank you, Cavall. I did say I needed new polishing materials, but…I didn’t expect you to go out and buy them for me as a Day of Giving present.”

     “You’re welcome, sir.”

     “I hope you don’t mind that Reuben and I pitched in for your Day of Giving present. He doesn’t want me to give you any hints, but you’ll see soon enough.”

     The Blue Cybunny shifted awkwardly in his chair.

     “You, you really don’t have to give me anything, though. You, or Master Reuben.”

     Rohane shook his head and chuckled softly. “Don’t call him that or he’ll make me call him that. And don’t worry about it. Now, the reason why I called you was to ask if you’re doing anything for the Day of Giving. Did Will, or Mulligan, or anyone else invite you to their place?”

     Cavall shook his head. “Will’s on vacation with his family in Shenkuu, Mulligan and Philip’s families have other guests with them, Joanna said their manor is in need of repair…”

     “Then, would you like to come with me when I spend the rest of the winter holidays in Trestin?”

     “M-Me?” Cavall gaped at him and pointed at himself. “Sir, I-I couldn’t, that’s your time with your family, I couldn’t intrude or anything like that…”

     “Reuben, Andrea, Mother, and the others would be happy to see you. You wouldn’t be intruding at all. Besides, it would be easier for Reuben and I to give you your present there…and you’re good as part of the family.” Rohane patted his squire’s shoulder.

     Slowly but surely Cavall’s face brightened up like the sun rising on a clear morning. “Thank you, Sir Rohane, thank you so much! Um, when do I start packing? No, when do you want to start packing so I can have your things ready?”

     * * *

     “Andrea’s getting her second poetry collection published next year,” a heavyset White Blumaroo said as he passed a large bowl of curry stew to the Red Kyrii two seats from him and beamed. “I knew she would be publishing a sequel to her first compilation soon enough!”

     The Kyrii grinned sheepishly and helped herself to the curry, adding more to the plate of the little Kyrii sitting between them.

     “’Soon enough’? It took years, Reuben!”

     “Well, the time just flies by whenever I’m with you.” Reuben winked, prompting Andrea to reach over Darel’s head to punch his shoulder.

     “When you’re done hitting Reuben, can I have more of that curry, Andrea?” a Brown Lupe asked.

     “Sure, here you go, Omar. Where did you get the recipe for the curry again, Miss Melissa?”

     An aged White Blumaroo with grey curls chuckled softly. “It was Marvis from next door, dear. And she said she got it from some friends in Shenkuu.”

     “Shenkuu, huh,” said Reuben. “Remember the time we went to Shenkuu for vacation, Rohane?”

     “How could I forget? We wound up causing so much trouble for the locals.”

     “But you still got to train with that amazing martial arts master, at least? Wonder if we’ll see her again.”

     A Purple Lupe in a star-spangled robe and wearing golden crescent moon earrings had a faraway look in her eyes when she said, “Many diverging paths cross again someday. You are sure to meet her again.”

     Rohane made a face. “Why do I feel like if we see her again, she’s going to put me through a lot of training again?”

     “Isn’t that your kind of vacation though? Time off and the opportunity to keep learning new ways to kick other folks’ – “

     Andrea narrowed her eyes. “Not here, and especially not in front of Darel.”

     A Green Kacheek laughed as he tipped potatoes and carrots onto his plate. “Some things just never change, Andrea!”

     “Well, you know what they say about how the more things change, Devin.”

     “Dear Fyora, the years really just fly by, don’t they?” a White Kyrii commented. “Miss Melissa, can I have more bread? And the butter, please.”

     “It’s ‘may I’, Ben,” said Andrea with the straightest face she could muster. But Melissa passed the breadbasket to Ben anyway.

     “No matter how many Days of Giving we spend here, there’s always good food, and good company.” Devin grabbed a bread roll from the basket before it reached Ben. “Can we have curry again next time we’re here?”

     “I can’t believe Reuben actually helped make it. I thought for sure he was going to mess it up somehow.”

     Reuben feigned offense, a hand flying to his chest. “Rohane, how dare you. You know I know my way around the kitchen.”

     “But didn’t you say you never made curry before? I really hope you didn’t give Mother too hard a time.”

     “One more word and I’m taking back your Day of Giving gift, little brother.”

     “If you do, can I have it?” Omar chimed in.

     Meanwhile, Rohane turned to Cavall, who was sitting next to him. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You’ve been very quiet since we sat down to eat.”

     Cavall looked up from where he had dipped his bread into the curry and glanced all around the table. He met Rohane’s gaze and saw Reuben offering them the breadbasket. He saw Andrea top up Darel’s cup with juice, saw Ben stand up to bring the Sparkleberry Pie over to the spread for dessert, heard Olivia – the Purple Lupe – and Melissa start a conversation about family.

     And the Blue Cybunny could not help but smile. It was not a smile that hurt the corners of his mouth, or a smile that concealed a large secret.

     “I’m okay,” he said. “Thank you for inviting me, Sir Rohane. But, um, if it’s all right with you and everyone…well, the next Day of Giving…”

     “Of course, Cavall. You’re always welcome at Trestin, whether on the Day of Giving, or on any other day.”

     The End.