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Gomez’s arrival to Kilwa took a very long time.
Ever since the destruction of Tseila, he had been adrift for a while. He managed to drift along slowly on whatever was left of that tiny little rowboat to Brazil, where the Portuguese settlers already were.
With what little gold he carried from the city, he bought his way onto a caravel, claiming that both he and the Portuguese had a common enemy: the Spanish Kingdom he had deserted. This was the only way, he thought. Surely the King would have him executed for treason, insubordination, desertion… Whatever charges he pleased if Gomez ever returned to Spain.
So he conceded, let himself have the mercy of the Portuguese Empire, who took him first to Lisbon and then eventually to the settlement of Kilwa, in East Africa.
Now Gomez had it all: wealth, servants, slaves, he had power over a whole settlement. It was surely an upgrade from being a navy commander.
However, Gomez had been purposefully omitting a very important detail from his memory.
Gaspard.
‘Where had the bastard been?’ he thought. All he recalled was a fateful evening in Brazil, in the settlement of São Vicente, where they had fallen out.
Yes, Gaspard had gone with him from Tseila to São Vicente, but things went awry when the two got slightly hot-headed and Gomez, as always, blinded by greed.
That same evening, Gomez and Gaspard had stopped by an inn to rest so that in the morning they could board to Lisbon. In their tiny room — the place was still halfway in construction — they settled in and placed their heavy bags of gold chunks down near the dresser.
Gaspard, ever curious, turned to Gomez with a light yet exhausted smile on his face while he sat on the wide mattress. “Commander, what do you think we’ll do with all this gold?”
“It isn’t much,” Gomez noted, looking out of the window before closing the shutters and moving to the bed, sitting on the other side and taking off his boots with a small pained hiss. “But we could do a few things. Such as…” He trailed off, slowly swinging his legs over the mattress, “I’m not sure. Maybe we could buy a house.”
“Where?”
Gomez hummed. “In Lisbon, why not? We could have a nice view of the Tagus. Or perhaps one by the sea.”
Gaspard grinned and copied his actions, also sliding his boots off and laying his legs straight on the bed beside Gomez. “A house just for you and me?”
“Why not?” The commander grinned, looking at the ceiling for a moment before turning on his side to look at Gaspard. The two had gotten so used to life in the wilderness, that laying on a bed together wasn’t a big deal anymore. “And we could buy horses. Go horse riding every afternoon.”
He knew how much Gaspard loved horses, despite being a sea-farer. “We could surely do that.” Gaspard agreed.
“Oh, but I’m not so sure the little chunks of gold we managed to save will add up to that much.” Gomez laughed a little and then sighed, eyeing his friend — his partner — with a light air to his expression.
“Hm. True.”
The two fell into silence and Gomez rolled over so he was laying on his back, looking at the ceiling. The dim light of the candle on the bedside table near him was slowly burning out, gently shrouding the room in darkness.
“Maybe we cannot have much together.” Gomez mused quietly. In the dark, Gaspard could no longer see his commander’s face, but the warmth beside him was undeniable.
“I don’t need much,” Gaspard admitted slowly. A change of heart wasn’t something Gomez expected from him. “We scraped by in the Amazon, just the two of us. If we live in Portugal together, even if the house is small, I wouldn’t mind.”
Gomez furrowed his brows a tiny bit upon hearing this. “What, so are you telling me you’re no longer hungry for wealth?”
“Well, I… I’m not sure anymore.”
“Why not, Gaspard?”
“Because maybe it’s not so important anymore.”
Gomez tensed up a little and turned his head to the side, in vain, to try and look Gaspard in the eye. However, in the darkness, it was futile.
“So what have you been doing for the past year and a half we were stranded on this blasted continent? Taking a stroll? I thought you had a goal like I did.”
“I wanted the gold, Gomez,” Gaspard defended himself, “but as time went on, I… I dunno! I got cold feet!”
Gomez let out an incredulous scoff as Gaspard went on with his argument. “Did you not see what that city did when we tried taking from it? It destroyed itself and we nearly died! This is not the answer, Gomez, I don’t want to die rich and unhappy.”
“The riches can make you happy, you fool.” Gomez seethed slightly.
“I doubt they can.”
The room fell into cold silence before Gomez shifted and turned, laying with his back facing Gaspard. The captain, letting out a sigh, then tried speaking to his friend again.
“Come on, Gomez. We could have a nice life without all of this.”
Gomez did not answer him that night. He had made up his mind — if Gaspard was going to get in the way of his pursuit of wealth, then he might as well abandon him while he still could.
And that was the final nail in the coffin for Gaspard. In the morning, Gomez was gone on that galleon, he hadn’t woken up Gaspard. Not even a note saying goodbye, nothing to remember him by. Gaspard was left to fend off for himself, so he decided to head to Japan with the Portuguese, carrying a sack of gold and a broken heart.
But of course, Gomez did not know this. He did not truly know anything, and that was the unfortunate realisation that appeared in his head when he saw his governor’s office in Kilwa for the first time. Much to his dismay, his first thought was “I wish Gaspard would’ve seen this” and he hated that. He hated the fact he abandoned the only person who valued him and who loved him, all for his lust for gold.
He slowly closed the door of the office behind him after the guards had left him, and he inched towards the oakwood desk slowly. It was a beautiful office, with maps and charts, tools and weapons on display. The windows brought in some lovely light.
He spotted a small couch in the corner of the room and he nearly pictured Gaspard sitting there.
No matter what he did, he wouldn’t escape the memory of Gaspard, and he could only hope he’d meet him again.
For now, all he could do was wipe the hint of tears that threatened to well up in his eyes with his knuckles, clear his throat, and then get to work.
He had earned this, he thought, he lied.