The prodigal grandson

Jerome tied the horse at the foot of the mountain and looked up at the last house perched on the cliff. He sighed, feeling the weariness of his fast ride.He cursed the old man who made them walked up the mountain as there punishment.

Jerome sat on the ground for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He has walked this road countless times but now it's seems harder.

As he stood up, he dragged his feet slowly, trying to steady his wobbling legs. Panting he walked cursing the old man inside his head all the way. Suddenly, he had the old man's voice.

"Don't sit first help me carry the water." Jerome turned and found the old man carrying two containers of water and handed one to Jerome.

"How could I not hear your footsteps?" He asked, seemingly surprised. He wondered if he could have heightened hearing like the old man when he grew old.

"I was once a soldier Rome, before I become the king after my father," the old man said, settling himself comfortable.

The old man raised his head and looked at Jerome, who was breathing loudly after carrying the one container of water. He pick the glass of water and stretch it to him.

Jerome took the glass and gulped it down in one go. "Don't use that name again."

The old man shrugged, and nodded he understood Jerome's temper since his little uses to call him "Rome" and she is no more.

The old man's face turned sad, "will you ever for give our family Rome?" He asked.

"Maybe, since I'm leaving with them, just maybe." He repeated looking away.

The old man smiled, that little assurance was an achievement than him walking out without answering. Jerome was still attached to them, despite his harsh exterior.

"Won't you offered this prodigal grandson a plate of food," Jerome faced him with a small pout on his mouth.

"Of course, how can I forget the prodigal grandson whom I have to use dirty ways for him to pay me visit," the old man said, stood and walked to the kitchen.

"You sure admit you used dirty tricks," Jerome greeted his teeth as he muttered and his breath.

"Why would I not, when you refuse to visit?" Old Winger placed the plate of food on the table before Jerome.

Jerome lips curled upwards when he saw the old nan had prepared his favorite food. The old man watched him ate with a satisfactory look. Jerome asked for more, enjoying the old man's cooking.

The old man watched him intently, making Jerome feel a bit uncomfortable.

"What is with that gaze?" Jerome asked, when he couldn't take it anymore.

"Just curious, did you find a wife?" the old man replied.

'So those two did deliver the message?' Jerome asked, himself inwardly. "Damn them!" This time he cursed them earning a chuckled from the old man.

Until he finished the second plate he didn't batted his eyelids from the plate.

Remembering something he removed the envelope from his pocket and handed it to Old Winger.

Jerome showed him the enveloped from Drey. He was inquisitive about the letter."What does the letter contained?" he asked, placing the plate in the table.

The old man didn't answer, instead he placed it aside and stare at Jerome. After a while he shifted his gaze and looked at the playing letter at the seat. "You could have asked Drey, or just opened it on your way here," he replied feeling content with Jerome's discerning face.

Jerome shrugged. Drey will killed him if he ever do so.

Feeling energetic, he smirked and looked upstairs. Wanting to annoyed the old man he walked up to his bedroom and threw himself at his bed.

"Call me when you felt like old man," Jerome shouted looking at the well made bed.

Despite the humble of the house, it was well-equipped. Feeling content with his mischief, Jerome closed his eyes.

Old Winger looked up at the closed door where Jerome was a moment ago. The way he said it lazily, it was as if he was warned out. He looked at the stairs and sighed deeply.

Jerome was not like this back in Rosario. But the circumstances he faced traumatized him. Jerome would stayed in brothels until Rico or Drey dragged him back drunken.

It wasn't like Drey and Rico we're better, he couldn't help but question if Jerome found something interesting. Was there someone agreeable with him?

Old Winger grey eyes wondered around where he sat. He remembered when the two brothers and Drey would sneaked in his carriage, even the coachman would be unable to noticed them.

He will only found about them when he reached his destination. Old Winger will reprimanded them and they would promised him not to repeat, but the next journey they will did the same thing.

Old Winger smiled at the fondly attachment the three boys had with him. He got used to their mischievous deeds and have to take them wherever he went.

'We will be protecting grandfather, Papa.' Drey will always hide behind his grandfather when his father would denied him to accompany the old man.

"Yes Your Highness, we are going to be the great soldiers of Rosario," Jerome would add, he never feared King Regan Drey's father. Rico would be watching hands on his pocket without saying anything.

'You heard the young soldiers Regan,' Old Winger had always denied Regan's ways of raising Drey. This made Drey to be separated with the outside world until Rico and Jerome parents shifted to the city.

A soft sigh escaped from his lips, he closed his eyes. Slowly the happy memories faded and were replaced with sad ones, worry and fear clouded his mind.

Gazing at the white envelop he picked it up and stood, the letter seems a bit heavy compared to normal letters.He gave one last look at the closed bedroom door before murmuring to himself,

"It seems Drey had the results already."