by Guy Antibes
~~~
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
~
J AC SAID THEY HAD SPENT THE LAST THREE HOURS WATCHING his father’s estate roll by. Ricky looked out at rolling fields. Some were cultivated along the road, but beyond he could see sheep dot the grassy countryside.
“Not many trees in Dimani?” Ricky asked.
Jac nodded. “My father’s estate goes from forests in the south up into the central plains. Dimani has a mountainous region on the northwestern edge. He has mines, along with most other nobles, but no estate there. We will ride through the forests enough times during the summer. I’ll show you a map when we reach the manor.” Jac looked out the window. “We are nearly there.”
Ricky looked forward to a place to stay for more than a night or two and smiled when they passed the large gate to the Griama manor, leaving the cobbled road that ran to a port farther south. The manor itself stood on a rise.
They could look north over the rolling plains, dotted from time to time by small woods sprouting from depressions between the gentle rounded peaks. Trees began on the south side of the manor grounds, and Jac said the hardwood forests continued all the way to the sea.
Once inside the large manor house, Jac proudly pointed out features of the estate from the Map Room. The ancestor that built the manor crafted the map after surveying the entire estate. Over the centuries, a few sections had been added and removed, reflecting border changes.
“Is it true that nobles control all the land on Dimani?” Ricky asked.
“The citizens can own property,” Jac explained, “but they pay taxes to the nobles in whose domain they live, and the noble is responsible for royal taxes, not the owner.”
“Do the nobles pay less to the king than the people to their lord?” Mara said.
“They do,” Jac said, “but if the difference is too great, the citizen has a right to petition the king for relief. Tax laws are open for all to review, so the taxation scheme works for the most part.”
Ricky figured that the citizens and the nobles would find ways to cheat on their taxes. Shantyboat residents used to pay taxes to the Duke of Tossa long before Duke Bariani came to power. It was common knowledge that so much cheating occurred, that the duke at the time cut off services to the town because he couldn’t control the residents.
He wondered what taxation scheme Duke Noacci employed in Naparra. Ricky would have to visit his rightful domain someday. He was the heir, after all.
“I’ll take you to your rooms, so you can rest up for dinner,” Jac said.
They all followed Jac as he showed them Mara’s room in the main manor house. It consisted of a good-sized sitting room and a modest-sized bedroom. She could have stayed in her room to unpack since their trunks had made the journey before they did, but she chose to follow. Jac led them outside along a stone-paved covered walkway towards a smaller building.
“This is the guest house. We can put up five families in here,” Jac said as he led them through a set of carved doors, not as ornate as the manor. Benno and Ubbo shared a two-bedroom apartment. It had a small pantry, a washroom with bath, along with a sitting room and two bedrooms. Everything looked very elegant, but a little worn. The guest house was by no means a new building.
Ricky’s suite was toward the back. It consisted of a living room, another small pantry and washroom on the main floor, and two bedrooms on a second level. A balcony fronted the bedrooms, looking down to the living room.
“This suite has a large bedroom and a small bedroom, smaller than Benno’s or Ubbo’s. If Father has a high ranking noble come for any length of time, this is where they stay. Since Ricky is the heir to the duchy of Naparra, mother assigned him this room.”
Each floor was larger than Saganet’s cottage.
“I don’t need all this,” Ricky said.
Jac ignored Ricky’s comments and showed them a large reading room on the main floor opposite the two boys’ suite. “You can share this. Spend time in here. This room has the largest library on the grounds, except for Father’s private library in the manor,” Jac said. “Servants stock the pantry during the day and staff the house in the evenings. They are available should you wish something hot that you don’t want to fix yourselves. Mara will use the manor servants should she need anything.”
Ricky felt he would be spoiled living in such splendor for a summer. His lodgings were quite different from the cell he had occupied at the Applia Juvenile Home. Did his parents ever live in a house as nice as this?
“I’ll take Mara back to the main house,” Jac said. “Unpack. We don’t dress formally for dinner, but wear something nice. I’ll have a couple of servants fetch you when we eat. That is typically seven hours after noon.”
The three boys looked at each other in the reading room. “Is your house in the capital as nice as this?” Benno asked Ubbo.
“No. My father is a landless noble and must work for a salary. This guest house was built on the Griama’s tax surplus and the earnings from timber and the sheep and crops we saw today. Our house is considered presentable for a noble’s townhouse, but the Griama’s also have a very nice residence in the capital.”
“Why didn’t we stay there?” Benno said.
“Ticco, Jac’s older brother, isn’t the nicest of people. He probably didn’t want Jac’s friends to violate his space. Anyway, Lord Griama spends as much time in the capital as he does at his estate, so…” Ubbo shrugged, but Ricky didn’t know why.
“I enjoyed the inn and the day at the capital,” Ricky said. “I’m sure I’ll appreciate Jac’s hospitality.”
Ubbo grinned, finally, “I will, too. I’ll enjoy being away from my family for the summer.”
“Don’t you miss them?” Benno asked.
Ubbo shook his head. “My father will come here in the next few days to see how I am, but I’m not on good terms with Mother,” he said, “or my siblings.”
Jac’s Dimani friend wasn’t the warmest person Ricky had met, and perhaps his personality didn’t mesh with his family. Such things often happened in Shantyboat Town. Ricky never had a good relationship with Gobble his entire life.
“I’m unpacking,” Ricky said.
He returned to his apartment. Servants had lugged his trunk upstairs. Ricky emptied everything as best he could. He hadn’t opened the thing since he had left the academy, carrying all his needs in two much smaller bags.
He laid his metal switch, enclosed in its wooden cover, on a desk in his large bedroom and figured out where to put his clothes. After opening the trunk, he found an antique sword on the bottom. Saganet must have slipped it in when he spent his last night at the cottage.
Ricky had never seen this weapon before. It was of exceptional quality. Someone recently wrapped the grip in some animal skin. He ran his hands along the glossy sheen of the wooden scabbard edged in the same silver and gold as the modest guard and pommel. The polished steel of the single-sided antique blade was chased in silver with slivers of gold that followed the slight curve of the blade.
The edge showed recent sharpening. Ricky admired the sheen and the sharpness of the blade. He didn’t think he deserved to own such a weapon, but here it was. Jac had said there were no restrictions on carrying a sword for young people, not that Ricky would wear such a thing around Jac’s estate.
He found a new wooden box with a note inside from Saganet.
Ricky,
I hope you made it to Dimani before opening your trunk. Rules are a bit more relaxed there regarding minors using sorcery and weapons. Karian found this sword from his sources. It was rumored to once belong to a Duke of Naparra generations ago. Nobles own many swords. This one is a fine weapon with excellent balance and beauty.
You are growing into a man, and your last sword was for a younger Ricky. Enjoy it and think of Effie and me while you parade around Dimani wearing it.
Have a wonderful summer!
Saganet.
Sharpening stones and other items for caring for the sword filled
the box. No wonder the trunk seemed so heavy. Ricky tested the balance of the sword. It was still a bit heavy for him, but not so much he couldn’t use it.
He put the sword back in the sheath and put it next to his metal switch, staring at the sword for a few moments before he finished finding places for everything in the room. Ricky pulled back the lining of the top of the trunk and pulled out all his transcriptions. He had completed four sorcery books, including the hardest, the one on mind alignment.
Ricky wondered if he shouldn’t leave the thick portfolios in the trunk, but after some searching, he found a dresser drawer with a false bottom. Probably all the servants and Lord Griama knew about the secret place, but Ricky would chance it. The transcripts barely fit, but Ricky found two other drawers that were the same size, so he switched them.
He heard a bell ring in his bedroom.
“My lord?” a male voice from below called.
Ricky hurried out to the balcony and looked down, finding a servant standing by the door, his hands folded in front of him. The servant smiled and bowed his head before looking up at Ricky.
“I am Tobia, your servant, my lord.” The man appeared older, but Ricky figured it was because he was balding. Ricky estimated Tobia’s age to be in his early to mid-thirties. He looked extraordinarily fit.
Ricky noticed a satchel at his feet.
“Lady Griama changed her mind and assigned a servant to the other masters and me to you. There is a servant’s room on this floor. Is there anything I can get you?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t need a personal servant,” Ricky said.
“Young Jac said you have recently been elevated to noble status. Lady Griama thought you might want to learn how to behave in Dimani. I spent ten years in Sealio as part of the Dimani ambassador’s staff, so I have an excellent understanding of the differences between the two countries. If I might be so bold to say, you might need a bit of schooling in both Parantian customs and Dimani deportment.”
Ricky sighed. If Lady Griama, who Ricky had never met, thought he needed help, then he probably needed help.
“You can be my servant if you call me Ricky when we are alone. I’m not very used to being a lord.”
“I can help you with that. I have one other capability that is a little unique to the Griama estate staff. I am a sorcerer of modest capability and might be of assistance along those lines, should you need it. Since your reputation preceded your arrival, I requested to be your servant.”
Ricky peered at his new companion, for that was the only way Ricky could think of him that would allow him to live with the man. He was probably a bit younger than Sippa’s, although taller and built better.
Ricky descended the stairs to the main level. “Do you know how to use a sword?”
A corner of Tobia’s mouth twitched into a hint of a smile. “I am proficient. I was called upon to act as a bodyguard for the ambassador from time to time and served the same purpose for Lord Griama, but he has recently hired a few younger men for city duty.”
“You are here as my bodyguard, then?”
“Young Jac claimed that trouble has followed you in the past.”
“It has, Tobia.” Ricky tapped his toe on the stone tile. “Can you draw a hot bath?”
Tobia grinned. “I am proficient enough in the sorcerous arts not to have to light the boiler behind the washroom. I will get right to it.”
Ricky let the man go. He strolled to the pantry and grabbed a few berries in a small bowl and sat to eat. How could he use Tobia’s talents? Surely, if the man had served as a bodyguard, he would give Ricky a chance to spar responsibly, since his shoulder hadn’t healed. Jac was a wonderful friend, but even Benno was better with a sword than either Dimanian.
He would have to spend some time with Tobia before he shared any of his secrets, except he would ask about Tirio Estippia, the performance producer in the capital, and what his proposal had meant.
~
The manor house sported two dining rooms. One for formal occasions, doubling as a ballroom, and a more modest dining room that still sat over twenty, to Ricky’s estimation. Tobia said there would be no uses for the ballroom, as Lady Griama called it, during the summer.
Tobia stood behind Ricky. Dimani custom had servants lining the walls while everyone ate. It made Ricky a bit uneasy. They reminded him of guards or nannies or maybe a combination of the two. Food wasn’t set on the table to be served by the eater, but the diner asked their servant to retrieve what they wanted. Ricky didn’t know if he would be eating too much or too little with the arrangement and found that he ate less, at least for his first encounter with the custom.
The food reminded Ricky of a refined version of what they had eaten at the restaurant where Ricky ran into Sippa and Ducri Wamia, that strange minister. Perhaps he’d have to ask Tobia about him, too.
Lady Griama turned to Ricky. “Do you find our cuisine to your taste, young Valian?”
Ricky smiled. “I do. We had something similar in the capital, but I like this better.”
“Our cooks are from other Kerrothian countries, so you’ll have the opportunity to taste other styles,” Lady Griama said.
She was blonde, like Jac, and well put together for her age. He guessed she was a bit older than Saganet. Even now, Ricky would call her attractive and very cultivated. She spoke well, acted impeccably, to Ricky’s view, and seemed to be intelligent.
“Are you where Jac gets his sorcery?” Ricky asked.
She stared at him and then nodded. “I am. The talent completely missed my eldest son, young Valian.”
“If you’d like, you can call me Ricky,” he said.
Lady Griama looked pleased. “I just might do that…Ricky.”
At dinner’s end, she stood up. “I am glad you are with us this summer. With Lord Griama spending most of his time in the capital, I was afraid I’d be alone, but that isn’t the case. Let me or your servants know if you need anything.” She smiled and left the room.
Jac got up. “Time for bed,” he said, yawning. “We go to bed early and rise early at the estate…just like the academy, but maybe not this early all the time.”
Ricky wandered around the manor for a bit, asking Tobia questions about the house. On the way to the guest house, he asked. “Why doesn’t Lady Griama join her husband at their townhouse?”
“There are probably a few reasons for that,” Tobia said. “She likes the peace of the estate. Master Ticco is not an easy child, even at twenty-four years. Lord Griama is likely pre-occupied with the current state of affairs in Dimani, and Lady Griama might find herself as alone in the capital as out here at the estate.”
“I’m not entitled to pry, am I?” Ricky said.
“Not entitled, but it is a fair question to ask, and I am inclined to answer it,” Tobia said.
“Are you married?” Ricky said. He laughed. “I’m not.”
“Yes, I am, but we are separated. Our contracts are with different nobles, and they don’t end for a few years.”
Ricky didn’t like the sound of that. “Is that like temporary slavery?”
Tobia chuckled but stopped abruptly. “A bit, actually, but it is voluntary. In Dimani, servants sign contracts for their services. Sometimes the contracts get sold. We both worked for an ambassador, and when he was recalled back to Dimani, my contract was purchased by Lord Griama.”
“Who was the ambassador?”
“Lord Ducri Wamia,” Tobia said.
“I was going to ask you about him,” Ricky said as they entered his apartment. “I met him in the capital talking in the restaurant’s private room. He was with Sippa Baldico, our broomball coach last year. Is Lord Wamia interested in broomball?”
Tobia shook his head. “Not particularly. He never went to a game in Sealio as far as I know, and that applies to the capital, as well.”
Ricky didn’t think so either, by the way the two men talked. “Is Lord Wamia a supporter of King Leon Crespi?”
“In Dimanian terms, he i
s ambivalent. Sometimes he supported the Parantian king’s side, and sometimes he didn’t.”
Ricky sat down. “Sit. I’d like you to tell me more.”
“I will answer your questions, Lord Valian.”
“Ricky. Call me Ricky when we are alone. I’ve never been a lord.” Ricky shivered and rubbed his arms. “I’m uncomfortable with the thought.”
Tobia smiled. “I am here to make you less uncomfortable, Ricky.”
“Do you know a man named Tirio Estippia?”
“The impresario?”
Ricky frowned. “What is an impresario?”
“He produces sorcery performances, among other things.”
“Estippia offered me a job as a performance sorcerer when we toured the Royal Theater. Do you think the offer was real, or is he the kind of man who misleads people?”
“Can you demonstrate?”
Ricky sang and then pushed off and flew over the balcony. “Is that good enough?”
“It is for me. I didn’t think young men your age could become so proficient.”
Ricky hummed and stopped time. He slipped down the stairs and stood in front of Tobia.
The servant’s eyes grew wide when he noticed Ricky standing in front of him. He quickly took a step back and looked up at the balcony and then stared at Ricky. “How did you do that?”
“My original trick,” Ricky said. “It is a secret of sorts, so please don’t tell anyone I can do that.”
Tobia nearly snorted. “No one would believe me. I can see why Master Estippia would be interested in you. I would say an offer from him would be genuine. But why would you perform when you are an heir?”
“My father was the Duke of Naparra,” Ricky said. “He and my mother were excellent—”
“I might have heard of them. They were no longer performing when we arrived in Sealio,” Tobia said. “I suppose they loved the applause.”
“I don’t,” Ricky said. “I mean it is fun to be appreciated, but performance sorcery is not for me.”
