Chapter Nineteen #3
“Max,” Tiberius said. “It does not matter what he said. It does not matter if you have de Winter blood or de Shera blood because we are brothers, do you hear? We are brothers in the heart and in the mind and in the soul, and the words of a dying old man cannot take that away from us. I look at you and I see a man I have admired my entire life. You are The Thunder Warrior, the fighter that all men hope to be. I was born five years after you, enough of an age gap that I was just far enough behind you to be an annoying little brother who worshiped you. I still do. Whatever Grayson said in there can never take that away. Regardless of who your real father is, you are my brother. You are a de Shera and our bond, our brotherhood, is unbreakable. That will never change.”
By this time, Maximus was looking at Tiberius, digesting his words, letting them stop the bleeding of the wound that Grayson had so recently inflicted upon him. Gazing at Gallus and Tiberius as the rain poured and the lightning flashed, he struggled to calm himself.
“Nay,” he finally said. “It will never change. I do not want a dying man’s words to destroy my entire life but I cannot un-hear what I have heard. I cannot erase those words from my head.”
Tiberius still had his hands on him. “If you discovered that I had another father, would it make you feel differently towards me?” he asked. “Would you cease to think of me as your brother?”
Maximus shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “We are bound by our bonds of love and loyalty. Nothing can ever change that.”
Tiberius shook him gently. “Exactly,” he said quietly. “Nothing can ever change our brotherhood, Max. We are bound for eternity by the de Shera name and our love for one another. As long as we have that, we are invincible.”
Maximus took a deep breath, laboring for calm, laboring to settle Grayson’s words in his mind and the words of Tiberius.
His younger brother, the man who was at times so glib and so annoying, was also infinitely wise in his view of the world.
His words made so much sense, quenching the sorrow that had filled Maximus.
There was still a shadow of sorrow there, a phantom of grief, but Tiberius had managed to tame them.
At least, somewhat. Maximus was grateful for that. After a moment, he smiled weakly.
“I have never given you much credit for being so wise,” he said to Tiberius. “You surprise me sometimes.”
Tiberius grinned. “That is a good thing, is it not?” he said. Then, he grasped Maximus’ hand and lifted it up, glove against glove. He held Maximus hand tightly. “We are unbreakable. You are a de Shera, Max, no matter what. Say it with me – I am a de Shera.”
Maximus grunted, reluctantly, but he did as he was asked. “I am a de Shera.”
“Say it louder.”
Maximus grunted again. “I am a de Shera.”
“Louder!”
Maximus lifted his face to the heavens, shouting it into the storm. “I am a de Shera!”
The words were drowned out by the storm but it didn’t matter. Maximus felt better for having said them. He looked at Tiberius again, seeing the man through different eyes.
“You have grown up, Ty,” he muttered, putting a big hand on Tiberius’ cheek. “Somewhere in the past few weeks, you have grown up. I rather like this man you have become.”
Tiberius chuckled, looking between Maximus and Gallus.
“I have had the best examples in the world set for me,” he said.
Then, he sobered. “What Uncle Grayson said in there about father… mayhap the man had his unsavory traits. I think we all do at some point in our lives. But he is still my father and I still miss him every day.”
Gallus nodded strongly, with feeling. “As do I,” he said.
“Nothing Grayson said has changed my mind about Father, or Honey for that matter. Sometimes… well, sometimes we do things in moments of weakness that we never do again. I would like to think that Honey was not a weak woman, at any point in her life. Whatever happened… it does not truly matter.”
As they stood in the rain, pondering their mother’s relationship with Grayson de Winter, they caught movement out of the corner of their eye and saw Davyss standing a few feet away. The knight appeared uneasy, nervous even, as he eyed the de Shera brothers.
“Maximus,” he said, rain dripping off his dark lashes. “I just wanted to say that I am sorry for what my father said. I hope that does not change how you view the House of de Winter. I still view you all as my family. I would be shattered if that is now ruined.”
Gallus shook his head. “It does not change anything,” he said. “We are still strong, Davyss, mayhap now more than ever.”
Davyss was visibly relieved. “Then I am grateful,” he said. “Truly… thank you for your graciousness. But you must forgive me now, as I have also come at the request of my father. He has asked me to ask you if you will grant him a favor.”
Gallus glanced at Maximus before replying. His brother had no discernable reaction so Gallus continued.
“What is it?” he asked.
Davyss appeared uncomfortable again but he responded. “My father wishes to be buried near your mother when he finally passes,” he said. “He has asked if you will consider his request.”
Gallus sighed heavily and looked at Maximus and Tiberius. His brothers were visibly dubious, a reflection of Gallus’ own feelings on the request. It was clear what they all thought about it. Gallus returned his attention to Davyss.
“Although I understand that your father had feelings for my mother, I think it would be disrespectful to my father and your mother to allow it,” Gallus said quietly.
“Tell your father I will consider it, but know that, when the time comes, he will be buried in the de Winter crypt and your mother, when she passes, will be buried alongside him. I think you will agree that is the best thing to do.”
Davyss nodded, rather ashamed that deep family secrets had come out this night.
“I do,” he said. Then, he hesitated a moment before continuing.
“My mother and father have always been cordial to one another but it was not a true love match. Max, I am so sorry about all of this. I had no idea he was going to say what he did. To all of you, again, I am very sorry.”
Gallus held out a hand to the man and he came close, taking the outstretched hand and holding it tightly.
“Davyss, you are not to blame for the passions and indiscretions of our parents in their youth,” Gallus said.
“What matters now is that we stay true and honorable to our family names. No matter what your father has said, Maximus is still a de Shera and you are still very close in our hearts. We will fight alongside you now that the winds of loyalty seem to be shifting and we are proud to do so. Now, if you will excuse us, we need to find de Montfort and tell him what de Moray told us. We will continue on to Erith and we will continue to fight to keep England for the English. That is all we can do.”
With that, Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius turned and headed for their horses as Garran, Bose, and finally Hugh wandered out of the haphazardly-pitched tent, watching as the de Shera brothers mounted their mighty steeds and rode off into the night, off to find de Montfort and off to plan the course of England’s future.
For them, family loyalty and the bonds of men who called themselves brothers were stronger than bloodlines.
For them, nothing – not even the words of dying men or the mention of past infidelities – could break that bond.
For the men who tamed the lightning, the Lords of Thunder, their bond and their strength would live on into legend.
With wives acquired, children to be born, and new children discovered, the House of de Shera was guaranteed to live on from generation to generation, but the greatest generation of the family came in the form of three brothers with an unbreakable connection to one another.
Their lives, and their loves, were deeply entrenched in one another and would be forever more.
The de Shera Brotherhood would live on.