Although the barracks for Mastiff cohort were close, Teine broke into an easy jog the instant he got out from under the porch of the commons. He had a lot to think about, but the sky was absolutely spectacular, with the wild colors of the storm and the late afternoon sun settling in behind it.
“Breathtaking,” he muttered, pausing for an instant to admire the view. The sky was filled with colors, textural interest, and the feeling of depth and hugeness, and Teine desperately desired to stop everything to paint it right then, using the good oil paints and canvas he’d been hoarding in his locker. The old oaks creaked and danced in the freshening wind. It was raining in patches, and Teine didn’t want to get caught in one of the erratic downpours and turn up back at the Demesne with his paperwork soaked and looking like a wet dog, so he pried his eyes away from the sky and continued onward.
Teine, along with Seymour, Marcus, and the others from the infirmary, had all been members of their cohort for four years, since leaving the large group housing of the nursery building. Like many cohort mates, the boys of Mastiff were close, like brothers. Living together, going to school together, and playing on sports teams together forged relationships between boys of the same cohort that were often longer lasting and more durable than those with their own flesh and blood siblings. By this time next week, Mastiff cohort would be gone, its boys- now young men- scattered like chaff in the wind. The stern but friendly mastiff on the door would be painted over with white, and either the Boar cohort or the Falcon cohort would be moving into their spot, inheriting the duties of their age, and being the next link in the chain.
Teine hoped they’d do a good job decorating their door.
The instant Teine had entered the dormitory building, something had seemed out of place to him, but he hadn't been able to pinpoint it until just then. It was simply too quiet! With most of the cohorts empty, the whole floor was as silent as a funeral parlor. Mastiff and Holidocrith, Peregrine and Ponar… most of their agemates had either moved on to advanced schooling, apprenticeships, new jobs, or were still in the infirmary after their surgeries. Only a scattered few remained in each cohort, all IMs who had been released from the hospital but not assigned yet.
As Teine pushed past the sentry Mastiff on the door, his uneasy feelings lifted. So did the silence. Marcus was playing a game of cards with a couple of the boys from Ponar, one from Peregrine and, a younger lad he didn’t recognize, until he realized it wasn’t a lad at all! The girl had curly dark hair and startling blue eyes, and was dressed in trousers and had a cap on her head, like a newspaper boy from the big city. “Uh, hey…” he said, somewhat alarmed. “What’s that girl doing here?”
“She’s my cousin,” muttered Billy, from Peregrine. “She’s from Mahoney. We pen pal it, and she got to come up and see me."
Teine grinned meekly, the numerous conversations he’d had with Billy about his cousin all coming back to him. Billy had originally come from Mahoney himself, and like Seymour, had been purchased as a stud prospect a few years ago. Over the years, Billy had gone Solmurry all the way but, like Teine, cherished his blood relations. He'd stayed in touch faithfully, and Billy always had found Teine a willing ear for his commentary on the girl’s entertaining antics. “Hi, Alice,” Teine offered, to make up for his blunder. The girl seemed to be examining him, as he’d looked her over. Although she dressed in the clothing of a boy, she had the subtle start of womanly curves under those baggy trousers and tunic. “N-nice to meet you, finally,” he added, hoping he didn’t sound like a complete twit.
Marcus chuckled. “Ah, Teine. Be nice to her- but not too nice. Little wench deals from the bottom of the deck.”
Uproarious laughter echoed around the barren room, and Alice herself chimed in, laughing long and loud with her open mouth full of chewed peanuts. Teine winced and looked away, moving toward his bunk and his ambry to retrieve some of his things and be on his way. Although Teine would have liked to speak with Marcus some, he didn’t want to interrupt their game. But before he got far enough down the row to see his own bed, he heard the turn the conversation had taken at the card table.
“Has he seen it yet?” Alice asked. Her higher voice carried across the mostly empty room effortlessly.
The rest of the boys all shushed her, in unison, and Teine turned to look. “Seen what?”
The girl cackled and the boys all shushed her again. “Don’t say anything.” Billy admonished her under his breath. Even though he spoke very softly, Teine could still hear him. “It’s his surprise. Don’t spoil it.”
Teine sighed and turned back toward his little area of the room, a feeling of pleasant anticipation distracting him from the unpleasant girl. Alice was a little off-putting, and Teine was not impressed by her. She was very un-ladylike, a far cry from the polite, cultured girls of Solmurry. Teine was certain that Solmurry girls would never chew with their mouths open and would rather be caught dead than playing cards in the barracks with a bunch of strange boys!
As irritated as he was, Teine might have kept on muttering about her for a while- but when he turned the corner by his bed, all thoughts of Alice evaporated like water droplets on a hot griddle. Sitting on the small rug by his bed was a large, rectangular shape, covered from top to floor by one of the blankets off Teine’s bed. His eyes widened reflexively and he looked over his shoulder to see all the card players were either standing up or craning their necks to see what would happen next.
“Have you seen this?” Teine asked them.
“Oh, yes!” called Marcus. “But I think we’d really like to see you see it!”
Teine shrugged. “Well, come on over then.” He tossed the folder that contained his transfer paperwork on the bed and sat down.
Moving his book satchel and letters that Marcus had carried up for him out of the way, Teine feigned indifference to the large parcel while he wanted for the others to join him. After all, he did know exactly what it was. It was a trunk. A monogrammed trunk was the traditional gift from any holding to a young adult about to take their place in the world. Solmurry made them on-site, making enough to cover their own crop of youngsters each year, but also for resale to the other holdings that produced Humans.
Teine had seen many kinds of trunks over the years, as every adult on Solmurry had one of their own, and many had inherited others from their kin and friends as they passed on. He’d eagerly awaited the day he could unceremoniously dump his old footlocker, decorated carelessly in the childish artwork he’d painted years ago, in the refuse bin to be picked apart for recycling. Now, it seemed that moment was close at hand.
The card players dropped everything; cards flew this way and that, and at least one beverage was spilled and ignored in their mad dash to see Teine’s reaction to his trunk.
“Open it!” urged Alice, launching herself onto the bed next to Teine. “It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen!"
"At least Seymour's not here." Teine thought, with relief. There was no way his friend could have let that comment lie without turning it into a crass joke. But he said nothing himself, only waited for his audience to get in place. Then, Teine pulled the blanket off the trunk with only the slightest amount of flourish.
Stripped bare of its covering, the trunk looked even larger and more imposing. It was made of rich, honey-colored wood, with a subtle engraved pattern along the border where the lid opened. Teine had never seen a trunk designed like this before. It had a handle on one end and a sliding wooden rack that pulled out from the other end toward the bottom that had a set of rolling wheels on it.
"What's with those wheels?" asked Alice. "Is it trying to be a carriage, or a sled-cart?"
“It needs those wheels, it’s so big,” muttered Marcus.
“Wow!” breathed Alice, leaning in for a closer look. Her earlier skepticism was melting away as she had a chance to see the trunk up close. She stole a quick glance at Teine before looking back at the trunk and demanding, “Who bought you?”
“No-one bought him,” Marcus told her. “The young Master’s centennial was last week, and since he’s going to show in the Displays, he chose Teine.” Turning to Teine, he added, "When the guys brought in up from the workshop, they mentioned that the young Master had designed the whole thing from scratch and even gave them the plans!"
"Bullpuckey." Billy sniffed. "I heard it too, but I don't believe it."
Teine pried his eyes away from the trunk to look at Marcus. “I’m sorry about steering you wrong- I thought you were going to Display instead of me,” he confessed. “It was just what I'd heard. I hope you didn’t get your hopes up…”
Marcus grinned. “I can’t believe you fell for it so completely. I was doing everything in my power to not blow the surprise.”
“You knew?” Teine was amazed. He’d known Marcus since they were infants, and until that moment he’d have sworn that Marcus could sooner fly away than lie convincingly or deceive anyone about anything. He grinned lopsidedly at his cohort-mate, and chortled, "You dog! Really, I’m impressed.”
Looking uncharacteristically smug and not a little pleased by Teine’s praise, Marcus gestured to the trunk. “Now, quit flattering me and open that thing up. The key’s on your desk. We’re all dying to see how it’s put together inside.”
Eagerly Teine fumbled for the two keys that were tied together with a red ribbon. They jingled together musically in his grasp as he fitted one to the lock and turned it. There was a subtle pop when a hidden catch inside the trunk was released, and the lid opened just a crack. All the others crowded close around Teine to see what was inside.
“You got clothes, too?” Marcus exclaimed, looking in at the small assortment of neatly folded garments, the sturdy canvas and gum walking shoes for everyday wear, and a pair of leather ankle boots. “All right, now I am officially jealous.”
Not an inch of space inside the miraculous trunk was wasted, and even the interior was lined in more of the same blonde wood and rich golden velvet. The clothes were a very nice surprise, Teine thought, but he just couldn't get past the sheer craftsmanship of the trunk itself. The way it was laid out inside was nothing short of brilliant. No details were spared. There were compartments laid into the inside of the lid that closed tight but had glass lids so the contents could be easily seen. There was also a section of the trunk that was divided off, as if to carry books. The ankle boots weren’t just thrown in haphazardly, instead they were resting on cylinders that looked as if they were made for storing riding boots. And as if that weren't enough, all the organization accessories had been designed so they could be completely removed and left behind, if Teine needed the space to carry something big.
“Are you going to try those clothes on?” asked Alice.
The girl's teasing voice cut through Teine's reverie and startled him back to the present. “Oh, damn!” he exclaimed as he suddenly remembered he was in a hurry. “I was so surprised, I almost forgot!” He began frantically emptying his satchel onto the bed and repacking only the items he needed. “I have to get back to the Demesne- now!”
“Why?” Marcus asked, picking up on his friend’s sudden distress. “Are you leaving?”
“No,” Teine answered, sniffing an old tunic before stuffing it into his satchel. Then he immediately contradicted himself. “Well, yes, but not for long. I think they want me to go to with the boy and his Uncle back to the Tower, but I can’t swear to it. No one's told me what’s going on, I’ve just been guessing,” With a shrug, he snatched the folder that contained his transfer paperwork and slid it between his sketchbook and notebook for safekeeping. “But I know I’m supposed to move all my things to the Demesne. They have a room for me there, now.”
Quickly, Teine pawed through the new clothes in the bottom of the trunk. All of them looked magnificent enough to wear to any function at the Demesne proper, so he grabbed a few of the new items and added them to his bag as well.
“Lucky,” Alice muttered again. “I really mean it, too. I’ve never even been in our Demesne, much less ever dreamed of living there.”
“Don’t panic, Teine,” Marcus advised. “Just get what you need for tonight, and I’ll get you packed and see your things make it to the big house safely.”
Marcus’s calm, generous offer stopped Teine cold in his tracks and he felt a great weight slide off his shoulders. “You really mean it?” he asked, trying not to squeak as his voice cracked.
“Sure,” Marcus shrugged. “I have the time. You’d do the same for me. Don’t worry about it.”
If there hadn’t been so many other people there, Teine might have hugged him. Instead, he busied himself by stuffing a complete change of clothes, a night shirt to sleep in, and some other essentials into his bag. “Thanks, Marcus. I owe you big.”
Marcus simply grinned. “No problem.” He turned back to the card players and waved them off. “Well, now I have things to do. You can just…”
“Start over!” Alice interjected gleefully. “We’ll just start a new game.”
“Hey! But, I was winning!”
“Too bad!” The throng retreated, heading back toward the card table to resume their entertainment.
Once they were gone, Teine grabbed Marcus’s shoulder in solidarity. “I really mean it. Thanks.”
“Hey, do you want all this stuff from your footlocker packed into the new trunk?” Marcus asked. “Oh, you'd better leave me one of those keys.”
“Good idea.” Teine reached under his bunk and grabbed out his old pair of workout shoes. They were worn and filthy, but at least the laces were salvageable. He tossed one to Marcus to unlace, and he worked on the other one until both shoes were picked clean, and each key was threaded on one.
“What do you want to do with your old footlocker?” Marcus gestured to the offending piece of furniture. “Is that going, too?”
“Oh yeah, it’s going- straight to the dump!” Teine ordered, making the hand gesture the Doyan Prince would make to send a fallen gladiator to his grave. “My god, but that thing is ugly.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Marcus promised. “Anything else?”
Teine hesitated. There was nothing of his that he was shy of Marcus seeing. “Just fit it all in the trunk, and I’ll sort it out later?” he suggested.
“All right.” Marcus nodded agreeably. “Are you ready?” he asked, as Teine threw his bag over his shoulder.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Teine found himself glancing around the room, trying to embed it permanently in his memory, knowing that this was his last look at his own childhood. From Seymour’s perpetually unmade bed, to the tired-looking goldfish bowl on the nightstand next to his, Teine didn’t want to miss a thing.
“Good luck! You'd better get going,” Marcus urged. “I’ll leave your spare key with Leis.”
Not trusting himself to say anything else past the huge lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat, Teine simply nodded, then headed for the door. As the card players all called their well-wishes, Teine paused in the open doorway and waved. Then, impulsively, he kissed his own palm, and slapped the painted Mastiff on the door. “So long, friend,” he muttered. As he pounded his way down the stairs, Teine heard the door swing shut and latched behind him.
To read Chapter 5, "Hat Trick" (part a) click HERE!
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The Gilded Shackle is the first book in The Evermancer Saga, a series of online serial novels. Go go right to the most recent chapter, go to www.evermancer.com.
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