by Guy Antibes
“It’s your life to live.”
“Are you going to be a servant when your contract ends? Wouldn’t you like to live your life with your spouse?”
Tobia smiled. “That is our plan. We have both saved our salaries and tip money as best we can.”
“If I go to the capital, will you be able to see her?” Ricky said.
“Most likely,” Tobia said.
“Then I will try to repay you myself, for your lessons. Will that be acceptable?”
“Lords generally give tips to borrowed servants. If you consider such a thing a tip, then I am all for it.”
~~~
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
~
J AC GAVE HIS GUESTS A TOUR OF THE MANOR AND THE OUTBUILDINGS. Ricky hadn’t realized the extent of the activities on the estate. They took a tour of a village that lay half-an-hour’s walk from the manor. He had had the idea that the manor was a playground for Jac’s family, but he couldn’t have been more surprised to see mills for grain and lumber. There were two slaughterhouses for sheep and three spinning factories.
“Most of the lumber heads south to the largest city in our domain. There are furniture factories that produce for Dimani use, but mostly for export.”
“To Paranty?” Benno asked.
Jac shook his head. “We use a little sorcery in some of the manufacturing, and I suppose King Leon doesn’t care for that or, I suppose, Dimani styles. We ship furniture to Vorria, who buys all we can make.”
That certainly fit with everything Ricky knew. “Does Dimani produce many sorcerers?”
Ricky’s question made Jac laugh. “Another export,” Jac said. “There are sorcerers enough, but Dimani sorcerers aren’t particularly strong, as a rule. If they are, the money paid to performance sorcerers lures them to Sealio.”
“Ah, so the offer the impresario in the capital made me was probably legitimate. He would have expected a bargain hiring someone so young,” Ricky said.
“That makes sense,” Jac said.
They toured a goat cheese factory. A sea of goats extended out from the back of the building in pens.
Ubbo made a sour face. “I don’t like goat cheese,” he said. “I’ve seen this before. I think I’ll head back.”
“I’ll join you,” Benno said. “Maybe we can do some sparring.” He looked at Jac. “We can ask our servant to get us swords?”
Jac nodded. “We have a gymnasium for such things. Ticco and I used it for all kinds of activities. There are practice swords available.”
“I know the way,” Ubbo said, as the pair left them and headed back.
“You practiced swordsmanship all your life?” Ricky asked.
Jac blushed a bit. “Ticco was always more interested in that kind of thing,” Jac said. “I like team sports better, so I grew up playing broomball with the other boys in this village. Ticco was always much bigger than me, and I didn’t like losing all the time.”
“You are big enough now,” Mara said. “Why don’t you practice with swords harder? You might be surprised.”
Jac turned red again. Ricky wondered how his friend took to counsel delivered by Mara.
“Perhaps I shall.” He looked at Ricky. “Is your shoulder healed?”
Ricky worked his arm and still felt a twinge of pain. “I could go slow. Tobia and I could work with you together.”
“Tobia?” Mara said.
“My servant is an ex-bodyguard of the Dimanian ambassador to Paranty. I asked him to spar with me. Slowly, of course.”
“Is that so? I didn’t know we had a Tobia,” Jac said.
“He knows you well enough. Your parents bought his contract from Lord Wamia. He worked in your townhouse in the capital until your brother wanted younger men. I don’t know how long he’s been on the estate.”
“My mother assigned him to you?”
Ricky nodded.
Jac softly snorted. “That sounds like something Mother would do. I told her that you were always looking over your shoulder for attackers.”
“He seems nice enough,” Ricky said.
“If Mother can do one thing, it is judge people. She doesn’t get out often enough, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t the smartest person in the family. Let’s have an early lunch, and then walk back,” Jac said.
~
Ricky needed to change his muddy trousers and clean his shoes before doing anything else. Tobia wasn’t around but arrived shortly after Ricky pulled the summoning cord, a thick rope woven with green and orange strands.
“I’d clean these myself, but I don’t know where the scrapers and brushes are.”
Tobia smiled. “I do. Isn’t that fortunate?”
“It is. I’ll have a bath and change into other clothes. I can heat up my tub.”
“You get your clothes, and I’ll fetch the water,” Tobia said. Ricky liked his attitude. He expected Tobia to either resent doing anything or wanting Ricky not to lift a finger. It appeared that his servant operated somewhere in between.
By the time Ricky exited the bath, a newly-lit fire warmed his shoes on the stone hearth.
“Your shoes will be dry before dinner,” Tobia said. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
“A fruity drink of some kind?”
“I’ll have to go to the manor kitchen unless you prefer watered wine.”
“I can wait,” Ricky said.
He sat on a couch in the living area, thinking he was too young to get this spoiled. Looking around the room, he could understand how nobles lived quite different lives than commoners. The difference wasn’t as apparent at the academy, but a noble youth’s home life would be much different and something Ricky hadn’t experienced until he arrived in this room, having a servant tend to his needs.
Ricky wondered how different his life might have been if his parents hadn’t died. He knew he would have grown into a different person.
He turned his head at the sound of a knock.
Tobia entered bearing a tray with a carafe of something reddish-orange and a glass. He took it to the pantry and returned with the glass, filled with the juice.
“The cook said you should like this,” Tobia said.
Ricky had never tasted anything so perfectly sweet. “What is it?”
“A blend of fresh fruit mixed with secret ingredients,” Tobia said, smiling.
Ricky took another sip. “Can this recipe be exported?”
Tobia’s smile hadn’t stopped. “I imagine so.”
“I’d like to send it to Doubli Academy. They don’t serve anything like this in the commissary,” Ricky said.
“An easy task,” Tobia said. “Did you want to spar this afternoon?”
“I’m not sure my shoulder is up to it, but we can work on forms,” Ricky said. He drained the glass and stood.
Ricky followed Tobia to the gymnasium, clutching the sword from Saganet.
“Is that a Vorrian weapon?” Tobia said.
Ricky looked at the sheathed sword. “I don’t know. The note that came with it said the blade was once owned by a Naparran nobleman.”
“Naparra borders Vorria. Perhaps the design originally came from there.”
They reached the gymnasium. It was much smaller than the gymnasium at Doubli but larger than one of Saganet’s private studios. The windows filled the walls, making the interior bright.
Ricky expected to see Ubbo and Benno, but they arrived at an empty hall. He drew his sword and worked on a few forms.
“Definitely a sword with Vorrian influence. Yours has a more subtle curve, though. It is a lord’s weapon, that is plain to see. It was restored in Vorria, I would guess, especially with that sharkskin grip.”
Ricky looked at the grip. “Is that what it is?”
“Vorrians will use that material, but Parantians prefer other materials for the grip.”
“A friend of mine runs a trading company and has a string of shops in Tossa. He found it.”
Tobia held out his hand. “May I?”
&nbs
p; Ricky gave him the sword. Tobia showed off his skill. The man’s fluid moves told Ricky that he still practiced with a weapon. He looked to be a worthy practicing partner. Maybe more than worthy, Ricky thought.
“I injured my shoulder not long ago, and it hasn’t fully healed,” Ricky said. “So let’s just do some forms together first.”
“We don’t have to work out together,” Tobia said. “I am a servant, after all.”
“You are an ex-bodyguard and well-trained in using a sword. I am well-trained, for my age,” Ricky said. “We can spar on an equal level, just slowly.”
“Not with that.” Tobia pointed to Ricky’s sword.
“I didn’t intend to spar with my sword, but I wanted to get a feel for it in a place where I don’t have to worry about cutting into fine furniture.”
Tobia smiled. “Ah, I see your point.”
“Not with this,” Ricky said, waggling the sword. “Jac said there are practice swords here.”
“In that cabinet.” Tobia pointed across the floor.
Ricky opened the door and saw wooden practice swords and other blunted weapons. He took out a wooden sword.
“Something a little lighter,” he said.
They both warmed up next to each other. Ricky wondered if Saganet’s bad leg had damaged the fluidity that Tobia displayed. It probably had.
Tobia ran Ricky through a sparring regimen. It was a combination of executing a form and sparring. The exercise had a pace to it, and Ricky found it gave him the ability to workout, but not make his left shoulder ache. When the inevitable pain came, Ricky lowered his sword.
“Enough?” Tobia said. “You are indeed well-trained. I can show you new techniques if you share some with me.”
Ricky laughed. “Me show you something?”
Tobia nodded. “I’ll point out your moves when I see them, again.” The servant looked outside at the changing color of the light. “It is time to prepare for dinner. We will both need to bathe.”
Ricky didn’t understand what Tobia said, but then he remembered the servants standing at attention behind the diners. “Then, thank you for the workout. The next time, we will start out with a short run.”
Tobia smiled. “I would like that.”
Ricky held onto his sword as they walked back to the guest house in companionable silence. Tobia seemed to be more than he appeared, although Ricky didn’t detect any hidden motives. But then, Ricky remembered his encounter with Duke Noacci and hadn’t found anything objectionable about the duke except for his comment about claiming to be an imperfect man.
~
“This is Prince Ticco,” Lady Amira said, “his title since the king formally decreed him as first heir to the Dimani throne.”
Ricky bowed to Jac’s brother, who stood looking off in a different direction. The man didn’t even acknowledge Ricky or any of Jac’s friends, except for Mara.
“Mother, you should have introduced them to me first as befits my position as heir.”
Lady Amira turned red. Ricky didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or rage. Maybe both, since her back stiffened up. “Ticco, this is Lord Hendrico Valian, heir to the duchy of Naparra. This is Borial Vesteria, and he likes to be called Benno. He comes from a noble family in Tossa. This is Mara Torris, a sorceress, and a former agent for King Leon. You know Ubbo.” She looked at her eldest son. “Does that suit a prince of the realm?”
Ricky nearly winced at the reproof, but Ticco tugged down on the vest that he wore and nodded, lifting his chin a little higher. “No real titles, eh?”
“May I remind you that you have no real title, my son. You are as much an heir as Hendrico and Jac, since when you rise to King, he will be your father’s heir.”
Ticco sniffed. “So you say.”
Ricky guessed that was Ticco’s way of acknowledging his mother's correct assumption of the situation. The prince led the way into the dining room. The servants had already taken their places, signifying where everyone should sit. Ricky sat on Lady Amira’s right, Jac on his mother’s left. Mara sat next to Jac. No one sat on either side of Ticco, who sat at the other end of the table. Ubbo moved from next to Mara to sit at Ticco’s right hand. The heir deigned to give his fellow Dimanian a condescending nod.
Benno leaned over to Ricky and whispered in his ear while the servants served each diner their first course. “Insufferable bore,” he said.
Ricky agreed. “Thank you for that information,” Ricky said when he looked at Ticco and endured the heir’s stern gaze. He turned to Lady Amira. “Having spent my whole life in the city, I was impressed by all the industry taking place on your lands.”
Ticco waved his hand. “I am sure it is nothing compared to your lands.”
“I have no lands, uh, Prince. I’ve never been to Naparra, at least that I can remember, and that would have been when I was an infant before my parents died. After today, I have a greater understanding of what goes on inside a domain,” Ricky said.
“Paranty’s lands are without peer on the Kerrothian continent,” Ticco said. He sniffed and raised his chin.
Lady Amira shook her head. “At least this time you didn’t include Dimani in that tired statement.”
“Not since the discovery of gold,” Ticco said.
“Gold?” Jac said. “I didn’t know that.”
Ticco blushed. The revelation must have been a blunder. “Unfortunately for you, the mines aren’t on our land, but the king’s.” Ticco gave them all a snide smile. “When I take the throne, Dimani will be infinitely richer.”
“Infinitely is a large number,” Jac said.
Ticco’s blush turned into a black look directed at his brother. “Perhaps Dimani doesn’t deserve such wealth.”
“And if it doesn’t, do you know who does? Paranty? Have you made a deal with King Leon…yet?” Jac said.
“I resent that!” Ticco said.
Lady Amira pushed her chair back and stood. “No more politics or sibling arguments. Am I clear?”
Ricky enjoyed listening to the steel in her voice. He counted it a loss for Dimani that Ticco didn’t have Jac’s intelligence and his manners. That this idiot would step into King Courer’s role as monarch seemed to be a road to certain disaster.
Ticco filled his mouth with food and slammed his napkin down on the table. He left in a huff. Somehow the room felt lighter.
“Excuse my son. He has lived too long knowing he is to be the next king, something his father has always drilled into him. Some would take the time to learn the right kind of skills.” Lady Amira sighed. “Alas, only Jac has done so.” She grabbed her youngest’s hand.
Ricky thought that it was a tragedy in that family to have the youngest son be the mother’s favorite, but then, what did he know?
The conversation changed direction, and Lady Amira asked them all questions about academy life. Mara had obviously mentioned Ricky’s time at the Applia Juvenile Home, forcing Ricky to reveal much too much about himself. He looked back at Tobia, who shot him an approving smile.
Dinner ended, and they retired to a gaming room, finding Ticco finishing a plate of food that his servant must have loaded up in the kitchen.
“If you will excuse me,” Ticco said, barely bowing to his mother before he fled.
The man was a coward, as well. Poor Jac. Ricky could see why Ticco was the kind of person not to give Jac a chance at anything. Ubbo, Jac, Benno, and Lady Amira sat at a card table. Ricky didn’t know the game and wasn’t interested in learning, and his shoulder still ached from sword practice earlier. He sat next to Mara, flipping through a book.
“You told her you worked for King Leon?”
A cold expression moved across her face and disappeared. “I told her I was asked to pass on some information. I didn’t tell her I was an agent.” Her eyes locked on the chair where Ticco had sat. “I think she said it for his benefit. I pity Jac,” Mara said. “I certainly didn’t mean to get you involved telling your story at the Home.”
“My intended au
dience wasn’t Lady Amira,” Ricky said, thinking of Tobia. “You don’t need to worry anymore about it,” he said, smiling at his friend. “Interesting family dynamics.”
“Until we meet the father,” Mara said. “I wouldn’t be so complacent to have my husband gone for so much of the time.”
Ricky nodded. “I’m going to bed early. Good night.”
He went to the table and said the same thing, but the players hardly noticed, even Lady Amira. Perhaps Ricky would have to learn the game if it made the player lose contact with what happened around them. He smiled at the thought. Tobia sat along a row of chairs in the hall, along with the other servants. Ricky did not want to be a servant, ever.
Tobia walked behind Ricky, but as soon as they left the manor, Ricky motioned for him to walk at his side. “There is more to my story,” Ricky said. He heard a sound of protest. “I’d like you to know.”
Ricky spent the next hour telling Tobia his story after the constables caught him stealing for Gobble.
“I had no idea you came from such humble circumstances. I lived the life of a lord compared to you,” Tobia said, giving Ricky a much-abbreviated version of his adventures, but only since becoming a servant.
Tobia’s life was about what Ricky imagined: years of being a bodyguard in Sealio and then…now.
“Why did you sign a contract?”
“Ah, that is the curse of Dimani. If there is famine on the Kerrothian continent and in Dimani, only the nobles and their retainers eat, and many of us starve. I hadn’t been married long when such a famine occurred, probably just before you were born. We chose to serve and eat rather than be independent and starve.”
“I don’t think it is very fair,” Ricky said.
“I don’t think it is fair to subjugate sorcerers in Paranty, but it happens,” Tobia said. “We make decisions based on the constraints everyone and everything put on us.”
Ricky nodded and agreed. He yawned. “It’s bed for me.”
“Do you want me to lay out your bedclothes?”
Ricky laughed. “Lay out your own. I can get myself ready tonight.”
He walked up the stairs to his bedroom. The day had taken its toll. Ricky had learned a lot, worked some exercise in, and hadn’t expected to be in the middle of a family fight. He hoped Ticco would be off to the capital before Ricky made it to the manor in the morning. Unfortunately, summer would be much better if Ticco stayed away.
