Trajan stepped forward, bent a knee before Quidest, and took her hand and kissed it. “I shall miss your meals almost as much as your companionship, milady.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She raised him up to standing and pulled him in close. “Give me proper hug.”
“Take care of him,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ve grown quite fond of that curmudgeonly old pirate of yours.”
She whispered back. “He loves you, you know.” Quidest let go and looked at him. “We all do.” She put her hand to his cheek for the last time. “Now, off with you. You don’t want to keep Humperdink waiting.”
Inigo rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, go and collect your reward. And should you venture this way again, do stop by to spar with a fat old man.” He grinned and hugged Trajan.
“I can never repay you for what you’ve done.” Trajan looked around. “Any of you.”
“There is no need,” Inigo said. He shook Mastan’s hand, then turned to Westley. “Thank you for bringing him, my friend. It was the most fun I’ve had in years.”
“Yes, well, let us not make a habit of such endeavors.”
Trajan turned to Westley. “If things work out like we hope, I will certainly repay you for this ship you’ve provided, with interest.”
“Consider it a homecoming gift,” Westley said.
“Your generosity is befitting a king, sir.” Mastan bowed.
Westley raised an eyebrow. “I wonder how many kings you’ve known?”
“I wish you could escort us to Florin,” Trajan said. “However, I understand how you must be ready to return to your family.”
“Yes. Once you get settled back in Guilder I hope to meet the rest of this amazing family of yours. Bring them out to our little hideaway anytime. Bring old Pilbrick as well, though perhaps leave the potion at home next time…we have finer drinks.”
Mastan and Trajan moved to board the ship. Before they were more than a few feet away, Inigo called after them.
“Ah…Trajan?”
Trajan turned and walked back to Inigo.
“Since you’re not exactly in the revenge business anymore…”
“Yes?”
“Well, I was wondering…”
Trajan stared, waiting.
“Can I have my sword back?”
“Oh, Inigo, really?” Quidest said.
“What? He’s not going to need it.”
Trajan smiled and unsheathed the sword of Domingo Montoya.
“I could not live in peace knowing you were parted with it,” he said, and handed it over.
Inigo took it, then made to speak, but could only smile and nod.
Trajan put a hand on his shoulder, then turned and walked onto the ship.
From the shore, Inigo, Westley, and Quidest watched them sail off.
“Okay,” Inigo said to Quidest. “I will marry you now.”
Quidest shook her head and walked away.
“What? Why do you look at me like that? Why do you walk away? Don’t you want to marry?”
Westley put a hand on Inigo’s shoulder and they watched her march off.
“Westley, what’s wrong with her?”
“Let’s go for a walk, friend. You know so much of swordplay…and so little else.”
It’s not known whether Trajan and Inigo ever adventured together again. Trajan’s personal records consist mainly of financial matters, and Inigo never wrote anything. The extensive volumes penned by Westley never mention Roberts at all, as himself or any other, and are almost entirely dedicated to the history and scientific discoveries pertaining to farming and animal husbandry. Many consider him to be the founding father of modern agriculture, and his innovations remain in wide use even to this day.
Regarding the demise of the Dread Pirate Roberts, the journals of Quidest (as noted previously) are the definitive work on the subject; they make no mention of another meeting between any of the former Dread Pirate Robertses.
We do know, however, that a correspondence of sorts must have taken place between Trajan and Inigo at some point, as no less than three of Trajan’s twelve children are listed among the student rolls as having trained under Inigo Montoya at his fencing academy, of which Quidest recorded the following entry:
After we wed, there was of course no talk of children, us being far too old. But I believe his time with Trajan awakened him to the joys of fatherhood he had so long denied himself. It wasn’t long before he was searching out young ruffians among town to, as he put it, “test the mettle of this one,” and whenever they showed promise, he would take them under his wing to instruct.
It was in this manner that his fencing school began and, quickly earning notoriety, was deemed one of the finest in all the world. We were inundated with rich, pompous applicants that Inigo would more often than not send scurrying home in tears and generally with a scar or two for their trouble. Those who impressed him were trained and are now counted among the finest fencers alive.
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