(7) Year 6

Gilbert looked in the mirror one morning and saw his first grey hair. I'm thirty years old, he realized. After a moment's deliberation, he decided to pluck the hair out.

Kevin meanwhile, was six-years old and significantly more mature than he'd been even a year ago. It was at the age of six that some people of the era thought that children ceased being children and were ready to leave their family and take on a new role in society.

The white-haired boy had been carrying groceries for a neighbor and had earned enough small change to buy himself a shiny new sword. It was a real sword – not a toy, he insisted – and practiced with it every day.

One day Kevin was outside parrying with a neighbor boy, when a carriage lost a wheel and stopped within view. Gilbert looked up from the steps and put out his cigarette. The boys resumed their swordplay, at first taking no heed as a tall noble stepped out of the carriage to look at the wheel.

"Master Sinclair," said the carriage driver. "We'll have that wheel back on straight away."

Gilbert stood up, thinking the name 'Sinclair' was one he should know. And then he remembered it in a flash of memory that drilled a nervous jolt into his stomach.

The hub that had held the wheel in place rolled out to where the boys were play fighting, and they ceased their duel. Kevin picked up the hub that had come lose from the wheel and handed it to the nobleman.

"Why, you're a helpful lad, and a comely one, too," said Master Sinclair, taking the wheel part from Kevin and handing it to the carriage driver. "And I see you've got some skills with the sword."

"You Sir," said the carriage driver to Gilbert. "Would you be so kind as to help me get this wheel back on?"

In a bit of a daze, Gilbert helped the carriage driver hoist the empty carriage up, so that the footman could put the wheel back in place.

I can't let him go with the Sinclairs, Gilbert thought, sweat drops beading up on his forehead as he watched Master Sinclair speak with Kevin. That man will die, and Kevin will be so upset…he'll make a contract with Albus to try to save him…

"Is this boy yours?" Master Sinclair asked Gilbert just as they finished the task.

Gilbert nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow.

He'll kill so many people, but then lose the whole Sinclair family anyway...

"I'd like to hire him on to work in my household." He put his hand on Kevin's shoulder and the boy looked up at him, eyes shining with an admiration that Gilbert had never seen directed at his own self.

He'll be filled with utter despair…

"U-Uh, ummm," Gilbert stuttered and bit his lip.

"He'll get room and board," Master Sinclair continued, looking fondly at Kevin, "he'll be taught to read and write, ride a horse and be coached in the code of chivalry. And of course we'll help him refine his sword skills."

Gilbert saw a rare twinkle in the boy's two, perfect little red eyes, and a proud smile on his face.

He'll lose his left eye...

A deep feeling of loneliness washed over Gilbert and shook him to the core.

"I'll come for him tomorrow around 9 o'clock in the morning," continued the tall noble. "Can you have his things packed up and ready to go?"

But if I don't let him go, Xerxes Break will never exist.

"C-Certainly." Gilbert ran his fingers through his hair and swallowed the lump in his throat. "We'll s-see you in the morning."

)(

That night they packed up Kevin's things in a trunk: clothing, a few toys, the King Arthur book he loved, and of course, his sword.

"Why are you crying?" Kevin asked Gilbert, whose face was contorted and wet with tears.

"Nothing."

"You're not supposed to cry." Kevin put his hands on his hips. "You're not a baby."

"I-I guess I'll miss you."

Kevin looked up at the ceiling as if he were thinking.

"But I'll see you again, won't I?" he asked.

"Probably not for a long, long time." You'll be older than me next time you see me.

Gilbert flumped down on the sofa and lit a cigarette, his hands shaking. He exhaled a smoke-filled breath, looked at his charge and saw the slightest chink of concern in the boy's expression. Gilbert's expression softened.

"You'll be fine. You're a tough kid."

Kevin let a slight smile cross his face, then bid his foster father good-night.

Gilbert took a deep drag from his cigarette. It's his fault I started smoking in the first place. For a moment, he considered what his life would be like without Kevin around. It will be lonely, but I can sleep whenever I want…I can go out at night…get a job to pass the time… He exhaled and slouched down into the sofa. There's no sense in changing the past, he told himself. It just puts you on an unfamiliar road to the future.

)(

The next morning, Gilbert and the footman lugged Kevin's trunk out to the carriage. Kevin, dressed in his finest, marched proudly over to the carriage and was greeted by one of the servants of the Sinclair house that had been sent to accompany him to his new home.

He clambered into the carriage, and then turned around to wave good-bye. Gilbert raised his hand to wave back and thought he saw a brief flash of terror in Kevin's eyes, but the white-haired youth quickly covered it up with a look of firm resolution. He would be a knight of the Sinclair house, and there was no changing it. The carriage pulled away, down the long familiar road, and Gilbert focused his eyes on the tracks left by the wheels, until his eyes were too filled with tears to see them.

I may not see you again in what's left of my lifetime, thought Gilbert, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. But I'll never forget you.

END