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Gavri’il stood patiently, waiting for the door behind him to close so the one before him could open onto freedom. Only his fingertips rasping at his beard as he scratched at the perpetualling itching scar hidden along his jaw revealed his pent up energy. He ignored the strong hand gripping his arm as he imagined sunlight on his face and a breeze rifling through his hair. Officer Li’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly as the half closed door began to cycle open again. Gave tilted his head slightly as he listened to the approaching footsteps. The movement freed a silver-streaked lock of glossy black hair to fall across his useless eyes. His breath tried to catch in his chest, but he managed a smile as he turned.
“Warden? I hope nothing’s wrong…”
“Not at all, Gavri’il… Mr. Makris. I just thought I would come to see you off. I understand that you have a flight to Athens tomorrow?” Gave simply nodded. Jonathan had booked the flight, so he knew very well the whens and wheres of it. He could only assume that the formality was for the other officers’ benefits. They all waited in companionable silence until the door finally closed with a hollow boom that would sound ominous to other ears. To the aging browncoat, it sounded cheerier than church bells on a wedding day. The outer door opened with somewhat more alacrity, and Gave stepped out into freedom for the first time in a year. As he lifted his face to bask in the cool morning air, a bright whinny pulled him to his knees with an inarticulate sound of joy and surprise.
A tiny, grey miniature horse pulled loose of the officer holding him and barreled into Gave, nuzzling his face and chest and wickering softly.
“Marceau!” The Athenian hadn’t expected the meet his little guide again in this life. Emperor Norton and the two horses had been taken when he was arrested and he found it hard to believe that the Alliance would have paid for their upkeep all this time. After a moment’s reunion, he lifted his head, turning it slightly a few times as he listened in hope of Skelton’s hoofbeats or the Emperor’s soft mutterings.
“I’m sorry, Gave.” It took him a moment to put Officer Humbolt’s name to his voice. “We couldn’t hunt down the others… They shipped out together on another carnival.” Gavri’il nodded, letting his joy over Marceau push away the renewed loss of his other friends.
“No need to apologize. Marceau is far more than I ever expected. Thank you, all, so much.” He stood after a moment, opening and closing his left hand for a moment until Marceau turned into position, allowing Gave’s fingers to close around the harness’ handle.
Jonathan’s large hand closed on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “We notified the liner that you’d be travelling with a guide. They’re more than ready to accommodate him.” The warden pressed a soft, suede bundle into Gave’s free hand. “We don’t usually give these back, soldier.” He could hear the smile in the younger man’s voice. He lifted the scarred leather to his face, breathing deeply of its familiar scent and shaking his head, at a loss for words. He dropped the harness and his scant pack to drag his old Independent uniform coat on over his Alliance issued release apparel. With a grin, he turned to pull the man into a hug.
“I’m sure glad I didn’t shoot you back in the Valley, Warden.” Long conversations had revealed they’d fought in several of the same engagements on Hera. Jonathan only laughed and clapped him on the back.
“No. You’re glad I didn’t shoot you, old man. Now try to stay out of trouble, huh? Keep running with your old crowd and your next accommodations might not be five star. Now, I’ve got to stop fraternizing with the enemy and get back to work. Humbolt’s going to take you to the docks.”
Gave let them help him and Marceau into the skiff, though he didn’t need the assistance. After shaking hands with what seemed to be the prison’s entire staff, he sat back as the skiff rose off the ground and sped away from the prison gates.
