CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED and THIRTY-ONE
“Your soul longs to be free, Nelson,” Blane said. “You deserve to set this burden down.”
Nelson didn’t respond. After a moment, he cleared his throat.
“You’re right,” Nelson said. “I will tell you. Everything.”
“We’ll see what happens next,” Blane said. “There’s water in a bottle under your seat. Take a drink.”
Spent from his strong emotions, Nelson took a long drink. He held the water bottle out to Blane, but Blane gestured to his soda. Nelson finished the bottle and stuck it next to the two others under his seat.
“Start at the beginning,” Blane said and immediately added, “For you. The beginning for you.”
Nelson thought for a moment.
“Tell me about Pierre,” Blane said. “What is his family like?”
“I’ve never met them,” Nelson said. “That’s a part of all of this. I’ve never met any of them, except my mother’s grandmother. My father said that she is no longer living.”
“I see,” Blane said. “No wonder you don’t know how to tell all of this.”
“Why?” Nelson asked.
“It’s not formulated into a story yet,” Blane said. “That’s how it was for Heather too. I was like that before Celia got me, well, and AA. Why don’t I ask you questions? That might get you started.”
“How is Pierre’s family connected to the Templars?” Blane asked.
“My father’s family were the Templar’s Weapon’s masters,” Nelson said. “You see, most of the Templars were killed outright for their land. There was this idea that the Templars had a lot of gold. Once they were no longer in power, people came for their gold or what they thought was their gold. Well, maybe it’s really what was gold at that time — land, homes, possessions.”
“But not your father’s family?” Blane asked.
“No one knew they were involved,” Nelson said. “My father says that no one really cared. Their skill was unique and necessary so no one really cared. ‘If they had sold weapons to the Templars, who could blame them? The Templars had cash so why not?’ That kind of thing.”
“Did the Templars have a lot of gold?” Blane asked. “Have a lot of gold?”
“That’s the question,” Nelson said. “I don’t know. I don’t think my father knows either.”
Nelson looked out at the scenery passing outside. They’d left the Denver suburbs and were now traveling up into the mountains.
“But …” Nelson said. He took a breath and let it out. “The money, the gold, that’s a part of all of this, too.”
“How so?” Blane asked.
Nelson shook his head.
“Too much?” Blane asked.
“Let’s go back to the story,” Blane said. “Your father’s family were weapons makers. Blacksmiths?”
“Yes,” Nelson said. “Smithies.”
“Can your father make a sword?” Blane asked.
“Yes,” Nelson said. “I can as well.”
“Really?” Blane said.
“I’ve made a few,” Nelson nodded. “I have one that I made in college. I think my father has the others.”
Nelson looked at Blane.
“I gave one to Enrique,” Nelson said.
“That’s where that came from,” Blane said with a slow shake of his head. “What did he do to deserve such a gift?”
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…
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