In Signum
When Justin awoke the next morning his mind was calm with resolve. After washing and dressing he sat stoically and ate almost twice as many of the corn cakes as he usually did at breakfast. “Whatever is occupying you so has had no effect on your appetite,” his mother commented. He gave her a benign smile but did not volunteer an explanation. His father just watched him quietly until he rose to leave, then followed him outside.
“Is it Kegan and Gareth that you are mulling over?” he asked. Justin’s lips tightened, but when he did not answer his father continued. “It is none of your concern, you know. Besides, there are only a few who disagree with Gareth’s father, and they are not known for their reason.”
“I am going to go and talk to Gareth.”
“Will you be back for the midday meal? I will tell your mother.”
“No, but I will be back early in the evening.”
“Justin…” his father sighed heavily.
“I will be back this evening, father,” Justin repeated and turned to leave. His father watched him go with a sad and slightly grim expression.
The midmorning sun shone brightly all around as Justin walked the familiar road that took him to the house of his best friend. His earliest, hazy, memories were of the two of them playing together. The sound of their mothers’ voices and laughter was like joyful music in the back ground. Gareth was the closest friend Justin had ever had. Justin’s older brother had always seemed barely present to him, and had married and left home early when Justin had been only seven. The distance between them hadn’t lessened even as Justin had grown, and visits from him and his wife had, for Justin, always seemed a bit formal, sometimes even strained. But time with Gareth, in either home, had always been naturally easy. Thinking of this still filled him with momentary peace.
Why did things have to get so confusing as they became men? It was because of men like Kegan, who didn’t care what was fair or right. One had to deal with his kind in ways they understood. This time it would require Gareth to meet him in combat. Justin would have to make Gareth see that even if his father never did. Again he thought of when he was young, when his mother would walk him along this same road to spend the day with Gareth while the women worked together. If the work took longer than expected he and Gareth would fall asleep in the floor by the fire and Justin would be carried home by his father who would come to see him and his mother home. He could remember rousing as his father shifted him from one shoulder to another and seeing the brilliant stars in the pitch black sky. He would then drift quickly back to sleep listening to the sound of his mother’s voice telling his father of her day. He knew that by the time he returned home on this day his mother would have heard from Gareth’s mother, or someone else, about the events yesterday in the pasture, and he would have to face her sad, reproachful gaze; for she would have also talked to his father about it, and would have guessed Justin’s view of the matter just as quickly as he had. She wouldn’t say a lot. She would stand and look at him and try and think how to convince him to take a peaceful path. But sixteen years of living with him had taught her how stubborn he was, and how nearly impossible it was to make him see from a different angle anything he felt strongly about. While these thoughts nagged at him, they had no true bearing on him. He never doubted that Kegan must be put in his place. It wasn’t an enviable task, but justice demanded it. Justin shook these thoughts from his head as he turned his feet from the road and onto the lane that led only to Gareth’s home. He instead forced himself to relive the poaching in his head. He wanted to have all the facts fresh in his mind when he made his arguments to Gareth.
