Page 106 of The Truth About Myths
Dio went on speaking, but Henrique ignored the words. One passenger leaned against the railing and opened a newspaper.
As if Henrique had conjured the image, Isabel's picture stared at him from the black and white page. His thoughts scattered.
He grabbed the sheet and barked when the owner objected.
Dio grinned. "I knew you two blockheads were fated to be together. When we arrive in Liverpool, I’ll help you write the perfect love letter to soothe my little surrogate sister's temper. A few of my inspired verses will wipe out your desertion."
Henrique shoved the newspaper on his friend's chest and removed his coat. His shoes came next.
Dio's mouth gaped open. "You can't mean to swim back. It is at least half a mile against the current."
"We've swum longer."
Dio shaded his eyes, glancing at the port. "The river is frigid and fast. The ocean tide is rising, and the Tagus is treacherous in the high tide."
Henrique stood with feet braced apart, eyes focused on the palace. "We've crossed the Hellespont."
"You will lose your position in Oxford. The dean threatened to hire a replacement if you didn't arrive in one week."
"There are chairs in other universities."
"She might never forgive you."
"She shouldn't. You are right. I'm a selfish ass, but I cannot allow her to be ruined."
Dio nodded, his eyes conspicuously humid. "Spoken like a true hero." He leaned over the railings and eyed the Tagus churning beneath them. "There's nothing to it, just water and fish. I'm coming with you."
Henrique shook his head. "You helped me this far. This I'll have to do on my own."
Henrique hugged his friend tightly and pounded his back with hearty slaps. He pulled away from him, holding him at arm's length, and fished inside his pocket. After opening Dio's palm, he placed Isabel's medal atop it. There wasn’t a worthier recipient.
"What's this?"
"A recognition for services rendered to your country and to this ornery mule. Thank you, Diomedes da Veiga. I could not hope for a better friend."
Dio brushed the back of his hand over his eyes. "What will you do?"
"I'm needed at the palace. Duty calls, so to speak."
The sun shone brightly, coloring the Tagus with a brilliant green. What a lovely day to grow up. With a parting glance at Dio, he focused on Mount Olympus and leaped.
Henrique flung the door to the dispatch room and sloshed inside. His clothes had dried up during the Americano tram ride from Belem to the Ajuda Palace. Still, his shoeless feet left wet prints on the parquet.
"Sir, the king is occupied." The secretary placed himself in Henrique's way.
Henrique sidestepped the scrawny sycophant. "He will make time for old friends, won't you, Luis?"
The king sat in his customary chair. A Goliath-sized man faced him, feathers and elaborate shells decorating his head. By his attire, he was a Mozambique chieftain.
The secretary lifted his palms, his face flushed. "Sire, I tried to prevent his excellency from barging in, but—"
"Fine, João, escort the Nkosi outside."
Both men left, the secretary closing the door silently.
Luis chuckled. "Can you believe the chieftain asked me for a cannon and a six-pounder? Shoot crocodiles, he said he wants. Says the nasty animals are a plague in the Zambezi River."
"They are called Crocodylus Niloticus, and they are not a plague. He probably wants the guns to blow up his neighboring tribe. I'm here to talk about Isabel."
