by L. S. O'Dea
CHAPTER 2
HIGH HUGH TRUENT stumbled out of his carriage at his mother’s house, brushing lint off the sleeve of his jacket. He ran his hand through his thick, black hair. He was as presentable as he was going to be. He drew in a deep breath, inhaling the crisp morning air and clearing the cobwebs from his sleepy brain.
“Sue and Reese, secure the carriage and then meet us in the house,” said Buddy, his eldest and most trusted Guard, to his other two Guards.
“I can’t believe I had to leave my bed in the middle of the night in order to rein in Mother’s House Servant,” he said as he strode toward the door, Buddy right behind him.
“It’s dawn, sir,” corrected Buddy.
He looked down his nose at Buddy. The Guard was a good foot shorter than his five-foot eleven-inch frame, but whereas he was lean muscle Buddy was as solid as a concrete block, bred for protection not speed. Buddy’s hair was grayer than black these days, especially his beard but the Guard was still an early riser. He, on the other hand, was not a morning person. To him dawn might as well be the middle of the night.
They entered the house. The foyer was large and mostly unadorned. His mother had already given away many of her possessions to various charities, to Little Sarah’s dismay. Mom was dying and Little Sarah had already been counting her riches but what she’d forgotten to count was their mother’s love of irritating her daughter.
“If this is one of Little Sarah’s over exaggerations, I’ll strangle her.” He and his sister were not the best of friends. They were too different. He found it hard to believe that they’d grown up in the same household. She even liked the ‘Little’ before her name. He had especially hated that family tradition of naming the first born son and daughter after the parents and adding “Little” to their names. He’d dropped the moniker in high school. He’d considered doing it when he was eight, but at that age he’d still hoped that he could please his father.
“Your sister was quite insistent that it was an emergency,” said Buddy.
“Save me from Little Sarah’s emergencies. She thinks it’s an emergency when she runs out of butter,” he muttered.
“Your emergency is a stained jacket.”
“Tell me again, why I keep you around?” he asked, glancing at the Guard out of the corner of his eye.
“To keep you humble.”
He chuckled and slapped Buddy on the shoulder. The old Guard always knew just what to say to brighten his mood. “That’s true, but what you’ll never understand is that with certain jackets a stain is an emergency.”
“Hugh, thank Araldo you’re here,” said Little Sarah as she hurried across the foyer, her brown hair tied back in a neat bun and her slight frame almost lost in her long, flowing robe. He’d never understand her. Most Almightys only wore the robes for ceremonial occasions, but his sister dressed in them daily. She grabbed his arm, leading him to the library.
It was nice to see that his mother had not gotten rid of the books yet. This had been one of his favorite rooms, a place to while away the hours when hiding from his father. She directed him to the desk where she had the tracking program up and running.
“See, see the dot. That’s Tim.” She pointed to the screen.
“It says he’s upstairs.” He was going to kill her. For this, he’d left the comfort and warmth of his bed and Viola. A small smile played about his lips. He couldn’t wait to go back home and wake her, slowly.
“What? No. He is not here. I looked everywhere for him and even asked Mother. She said that he went out during the night. He is not supposed to do that, especially that late.”
Poor Tim. The House Servant was going to live with Little Sarah when Mom passed. That was going to be difficult. Mom let Tim do whatever he wanted, whereas Little Sarah was strict with the other classes just like their father had been.
“I’m telling you. He was not here a few minutes ago,” she said.
He sighed. “And why is that an emergency? A wandering House Servant is not that uncommon.”
“They’re not supposed to be out alone, you know that.”
“Really? You woke me for this? I’m leaving.”
“It is illegal,” she whispered. “What would happen to your career if Mother’s House Servant was up to something that he shouldn’t be? They would not look kindly on you for that. You, the rising star, the youngest ever to be bestowed with the title of ‘High.’”
He scratched his chin. She did have a point. He’d developed the new tracking device so that Almightys did not have this issue. House Servants, Guards, Stockers, and Grunts were not allowed to wander about, especially at night. It was dangerous. He gently pushed Little Sarah to the side and sat at the desk. He keyed in a few codes and the screen changed. There was a map and many small dots.
She peered over his shoulder. “How’d you do that?”
This couldn’t be right. He verified that the dot he was looking at was Tim’s number. “Buddy, take a look at this.”
The Guard walked over and stood behind him. He whistled. “Our Tim has been busy.”
“Are all those dots Tim?” she asked. “How can that be?”
“Go and check this out.” He tapped a section on the screen.
“On my way,” said Buddy. “Do you want me to take—”
“Alone,” he said. “And keep it quiet. Hurry and report back to me.”
“I was right, wasn’t I?” she asked, a hint of smugness in her tone.
He leaned back, staring at the screen. He’d never hear the end of how she’d been right. It went against years of sibling rivalry to admit it, but he was nothing if not fair. “Yes, you were...correct. Tim has been up to no good.”
“I told you. I told Mother, too. As a matter of fact, I am going to go and speak—”
“No. This stays between us for now. I have to find out exactly what Tim has been up to.”
“Why not ask him?”
He looked into her soft green eyes, so like their mother’s. She was a pain but she was kind-hearted and more than a bit naïve. “He’ll lie.”
“Tim wouldn’t lie to us.”
He closed his eyes for a second and prayed for patience. “If he doesn’t want us to find out what he’s been doing, he will. Go and make me some breakfast.” He leaned forward to study the screen again. “And send Sue and Reese in here.”
She stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot. She was fifteen years older than him and sometimes acted more like a mother than a sister.
“Please,” he added to get her to leave.
She huffed and walked out the door.
He typed in the date from a month ago and studied the new dots on the screen. Tim had been a steady visitor to the East Side Producer Camp, but had only traveled to the garage once.
There was a knock and his other two Guards stepped into the library. Sue was built for speed and endurance like all hunting Guards and her long legs ate up the ground as she strode into the room. Reese walked quickly to keep up with the older Guard, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, swinging with each step. She was a cross between some type of hunting Guard and Araldo only knew what else. She was short and thin. Not much use for protection or hunting, but he was fond of her.
“I need you to guard Tim,” he said. “If possible, don’t let him know, but no matter what don’t let him out of this house.”
“Yes, sir, absolutely,” said Reese.
He smiled at his youngest Guard. She’d only been with him a couple of years. Her previous master had not wanted her. At eleven-years old, she was a nice addition, adding some youth and frivolity to his team. She was still a bit nervous, but in time, she’d learn to fully trust him.
“Tim will not suspect that he’s being watched.” Sue placed her hand on Reese’s shoulder.
He nodded. Sue had also been with him for only a few years, but she was much older and more settled. He’d found her one winter evening, starving and lame. She’d been used for hunting but after long days on the trail an
d little food took its toll on her body, she was dumped. She was a kind, gentle Guard whose gratitude and loyalty toward him knew no bounds.
The two turned to leave.
“Oh, and watch my mother too. If she thinks you’re guarding Tim or that he’s in any kind of trouble, she’ll do whatever she can to help him.”
Sue frowned.
“I know you like her, Sue. I love her, but I don’t trust her. If she starts sending you on errands, get me or better yet, Little Sarah. My sister will keep her in line.”
Sue nodded, still frowning and the two left the room.
He turned back to the computer and typed in dates. “Let’s see where you’ve been going these past few months.”
An hour later, he poured himself a drink and ran his hand through his hair. It was going to be a long day. Timothy had been sneaking into the Producer encampment for at least the past six months. That was as long as he had data. What was Tim doing there? He snorted. Well, he knew what he was doing. House Servants were notoriously randy, but mating with a Producer was disgusting even for a House Servant. Interclass relations were illegal but not uncommon. Shit, even Almightys had flings with House Servants or Guards, but he’d never heard of any class dabbling with Producers.
Buddy stepped into the library, his face red from the cold.
“What did you discover at the garage?” He needed to know exactly what Tim had been doing.
“Luckily, no one was there but an elderly Guard and he was sleeping. I searched the area and found that one of the carriages was overrun with burrowing wasps.”
“That’s suspicious,” he said, “but not impossible.” He’d heard of wasp infestation happening between the bi-annual spraying.
“I also found a log book,” said Buddy. “The garage was inspected last week.”
“So, Tim turned burrowing wasps loose on a carriage.” He took a small sip of whiskey. This was serious. “Who’s carriage?”
“Benedictine Remore’s,” answered Buddy.
“He’s in charge of the Producer encampment on the east side, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” said Buddy.
“Take a look at the screen. It’s the data from the last six months.” He pushed away from the desk. The pieces were coming together but the picture was still not clear. He needed more information.
Buddy walked over to the desk. “Tim has been spending a lot of time in Benedictine’s encampment.”
He stood and began to pace. “This doesn’t make sense. Why would Tim risk everything for a Producer?”
Buddy shrugged. “He’s an idiot?”
“Tim’s not an idiot. He’s frustrating and annoying, but not stupid. There is more to this. He wouldn’t destroy an Almighty’s carriage over a fling with a Producer.” He stopped pacing and tapped his fingers on the desk. “I need you to go to the encampment and poke around. According to the records, Tim has been visiting a hut where a Millie and Remy live. Find out which one Tim has been seeing. My money is on Millie since Tim is only there at night and he doesn’t seem the type to take up with a male. Meet these Producers and if you can, find out how long Tim has been visiting.”
Buddy nodded and turned to leave.
“This could ruin me. It’s bad enough to have a House Servant in the family who roams the streets at night, unaltered as the day he was born, but to have one who lies in wait and vandalizes Almighty property.” He ran his hand through his hair again. “Who’ll buy my tracking equipment when I can’t control my own Servants?”
“He’s not your Servant,” said Buddy.
“It doesn’t matter. You know that. He’s my mother’s and my father is dead. So, as the only son he’s my problem.”
“As of right now, no one knows anything. We’ll keep it that way,” said Buddy.
He took a deep breath. “You’re right. No need to panic.” He smirked and shook his head as he sat and pulled paper and pen from the desk. “Burrowing wasps. That Tim is a real joker. Those are nasty little creatures.” He scribbled a note and then looked at Buddy. “How did he even catch them? It’s not like they sell them at the store.”
“I would have paid to see that. I bet he has quite a few stings,” said Buddy.
“Before you go to the encampment, take my carriage to Benedictine with this letter.” He slid the paper into an envelope, sealed it and handed it to Buddy. “But first, take a couple of Grunts along and cart away the wasp infected carriage.”
“What do you want me to do with it?” asked Buddy.
“Burn it, of course.” If he destroyed the evidence, no one could find out what Tim had done.
“The Grunts are going to love that job,” said Buddy as he walked to the door and stopped. “What if Benedictine wants his old carriage?”
“Don’t worry. It’s in the note. It seems that one of our Grunts accidentally rammed his carriage.”
Buddy raised his eyebrows. “Who was driving, may I ask?”
“Reese,” he said, trying to suppress a smile.
“She’s going to love that.” Buddy chuckled.
“Oh, before you leave, send Reese to buy me a new carriage.”
CHAPTER 3
THE LATE MORNING SUN beat through the window, warming Hugh’s shoulders as he sat, tapping a pen on the desk. Buddy should have been back by now. Time was very important in this situation. If Tim had done something else, he needed to get in front of it before it ruined his career, his life.
His mother burst into the library, her small, frail frame tense with anger. “Hugh Matthew Truent, what do you think you’re doing keeping my House Servant under guard?”
Little Sarah, Tim and Sue followed her into the room.
“Lovely to see you too, Mom.” The time for confrontation was now. He stood and held a chair for her. “Please, have a seat.”
“It would be nice to see you, if you weren’t torturing my Tim,” she said as she sat.
He rolled his eyes. Her Tim. It had always been that way. Tim had been treated like a member of the family instead of a Servant, except when his father was home. He’d quickly learned that lesson. His father had been fast to dole out punishment for what he deemed behavior not becoming an Almighty.
Tim stood behind Mom’s chair. As with most House Servants, his frame was still lean and fit even though he was in his forties. His dark brown hair fell below his collar and had yet to be visited by gray. He was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, probably to cover the welts from the wasps. There were only a few small, red marks on his hands. He must have worn gloves while capturing the insects.
Hugh walked to the liquor cabinet, staring at Tim as he spoke. “Anyone care for a drink. You’ll probably need it before we’re done.”
Little Sarah harrumphed. “It isn’t even lunch yet.”
“Still prim and proper. I thought life would have tarnished you up a bit, like it has to the rest of us.” He could only stand so much of his sister’s better-than-thou attitude.
“I don’t use alcohol as a crutch,” said Little Sarah. “That’s something that only the males in our family do.”
“Are you comparing me to Father?” His voice was low with anger. He strived every day to be as little like his father as possible.
“Make mine a double,” said Mom.
“Really, Mother, do you think you should?” Little Sarah straightened in her chair.
He grinned at Little Sarah as he poured a drink for their mother. Mom was a source of great annoyance to his sister, always had been.
“Yes, I do. And don’t go on about my health. I’m dying and rather quickly too, so a glass of whiskey is not going to make any difference.” Mom accepted the drink and took a sip. “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about. So what if Tim visits a friend now and again.”
“Are you also aware of his other nighttime activities?” His mother probably knew everything about Tim’s life but he had to ask.
“What are you talking about?” Mom patted Tim’s hand.
“Why doesn’t Tim te
ll us?” He took a long swallow of his drink.
Tim remained silent, staring straight ahead.
He mentally counted to ten. The House Servant’s ability to completely ignore him pricked his temper like nothing else. That was probably why Tim did it so often. “Do you have anything that you wish to explain? Give your side of the events.”
Tim still did not speak.
“Okay. If you won’t talk, I will.” He held up a finger. “First, I know that you’ve been visiting a hut in the East Side Producers’ encampment.” He held up another finger. “Second, I know that you’ve been visiting either a Producer called Millie or one called Remy. I’ll know which one when Buddy returns.”
Tim didn’t even blink.
Was it only an odd attraction between a Producer and a House Servant? He held up another finger. “Third, I know that this has been going on for quite some time. Months.”
Tim glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.
He suppressed a smile. Tim didn’t realize that his body housed the latest in tracking software. During initial testing he’d needed more subjects. So, unknown to his mother, he’d installed the new system in her Servants as well as his own. It had worked out more advantageous than he’d imagined. He held up another finger. “Fourth, I know that you visited the Lake of Sins Parking Garage last night.”
Tim stood a little straighter.
That got his attention. “Coincidentally, a carriage there was found to have been overrun with burrowing wasps.”
Little Sarah gasped.
“That can happen naturally,” said Mom.
He walked toward Tim. “The problem with working with those creatures is that they will burrow into anything even flesh.” He grabbed Tim’s wrist, pushing up his sleeve.
