Chapter 5: "Hat Trick" (part b)

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As soon as the colander was back on Marne's head and he was tucked back safely behind the footstool, both the picture and the sound from the box returned to normal. But an instant later, there were sounds of running footsteps out in the hallway, and the curtain blew in to reveal Madric. Teine recognized him from his regular trips to Solmurry, but had never spoken to him before.


The Aoife magician seemed to be on high alert, looking around with alarm. Ignoring Teine as completely as if he did not exist, Madric went right to his nephew, standing over him protectively. "Are you all right?"


Outside, the wind began to pick up, sounding a low moan through the shutters.


"I just took off my hat," Marne replied peevishly. "Just for a second, I swear."


Madric relaxed, dropping into a fluid crouch so he was down on Marne's level. "You gave me a fright, when the music cut off like that. But you also gave me an excuse to leave the dining hall, so perhaps I won't die of boredom tonight, after all." His grin was genuinely playful, and Teine looked on with amusement. "Are you nearly ready to leave?"


"That depends," replied Marne, a mock-angelic expression on his face. "If you do die of boredom tonight, do I get your greys?"


Madric chuckled. "You and your horses, boy, I swear. Have you ever met a horse you didn't want? No, wait, don't answer that. I don't want to think about how many your father would be feeding if he hadn't set your limit at five. And that means you have six, still?"


"Ponies only count as a half," Marne reminded him. "So, technically, I could have another pony before he'd complain. Besides," he said, changing the subject. "If we wait a bit longer, we'd be traveling in the thick of it."

The boy's voice was soft, but Teine could hear the anticipation, the excitement. He glanced at Madric, to try and figure out what Marne was talking about, and saw the magician pale visibly. It was then that Teine realized Marne had been encouraging a delay of their departure so they could travel while the storm was at its strongest. Unconsciously, Teine wrapped his arms around himself, picturing the horror of such a scene. Once, the year before, he'd delayed going back to the Commons after a storm had come on suddenly, and he'd seen the gales take the form of a giant man made of wind and rip a hundred year old oak out of the ground, crumpling it into toothpicks. During that same storm, lightning had struck the Demesne and four of the serving staff had run screaming back to the Commons after a suit of armor that everyone thought had been strictly ornamental had come to life and run amok through the dining room. Teine's own Amagi, a couple of enterprising junior butlers, and "V" the Aoife docent had managed to trap the suit in a closet until the enchantment had worn itself back out. Prior Vihah had been notified, and the suit had been taken the very next day, "for study."


Madric blinked, then laughed a nervous laugh. "Well, then. I think I've made enough pleasantries for one evening. I believe we can safely take our leave without ruffling any feathers." He raised this voice and called for Phoebe. When she arrived, slightly out of breath and wiping her hands on her apron, he caught her by the arm. "You know the drill, my dear," he said, looking up at the Human woman with a sparkle in his eye.


"Indeed." she confirmed. Turning to Teine, she pointed at the box. "Would you be a dear and turn that off?" Teine stared blankly at her. "Oh, never mind. Look- here's how it works." She strode over and turned a knob on the side. There was a satisfying click as the picture folded up and disappeared like a book closing. Then, she returned to Madric. "I'll wait a few minutes, then make the usual apologies for both of you." Madric nodded his approval.


Marne rose to his feet, rolled the colander down his arm like a gentleman doing a hat trick, then handed it to Phoebe. "Thanks."


"I'll keep it on the low shelf, in case you need it when you get back," she promised.


Once Marne was standing, the wolfhound also stood and began dancing around, his paws making muted thuds on the dense carpet. "No, Stinky," the boy chided. "You can't go this time. There's not enough room in the carriage with Teine along." Teine watched as the dog's excitement evaporated and he sat on his haunches, watching the boy with mournful eyes. With a sympathetic expression on his face, Marne padded across the room, his footfalls almost silent compared to those of his lumbering hound. "I'm sorry," he said. The dog was so tall and the boy so small that they were very nearly eye to eye, as Marne gently stroked the hound's grizzled grey face and rubbed his ears. When he hugged the dog around the neck, it was almost as if the dog hugged him back, leaning his entire body into Marne's embrace.


Madric smiled, and Teine noticed his expression was kind and almost paternal. "Come on, now. Stinky will live without you for a day or two."


Marne pulled the dog close again, and Stinky responding by leaning hard enough to nearly knock him over. "He's had a bath today." he explained, scratching the dog on the sensitive skin under his collar. Stinky looked as though he'd been transported directly to heaven, stretching his neck and raising his head to facilitate Marne's attention. "He doesn't smell as bad as usual."


Nodding, Madric replied, "Well, you take advantage of that. I'll go get your hood."


Within moments, Phoebe had herded Teine out the set of doors near the carriage house, where Madric's carriage was sitting under the awning. The greys waited more or less patiently, with only an occasional snort or stomped foot, under the care of the Solmurry grooms. He went around back and placed his bag in the compartment under the seat while watching Marne stand quietly on the threshold, his arm companionably around his dog's withers. As Teine slowly approached the seating of the carriage, delaying the inevitable as long as possible, he could see the whites of the horses eyes. The greys were hyper-alert, their heads held unnaturally high. He was about to ask one of the grooms for some assurance that the horses were ready to travel when he noticed Madric had arrived at his nephew's side. Madric nudged the dog away in order to pick Marne up. Together, they maneuvered the boy's feet into some sort of sack, which Marne pulled up to his armpits and held in place. Then, Madric produced another cloth sack, identical to the first one, except this one had some type of writing, some unreadable symbols around its edge. While Teine looked on, staring blankly, Madric put the other sack around and over Marne's head and arms, pulling it down to overlap the other sack by about a foot and a half. "Are your arms tucked in?" Madric asked. Teine couldn't hear Marne's reply, muffled as it was by all that fabric, but Madric seemed satisfied with his nephew completely covered like a giant laundry duffel. Suddenly, one of the greys nickered, and Teine jumped, badly startled.


"Look at that," one of the grooms muttered, after they were done chuckling at Teine's reaction. They pointed westward toward the storm. Teine was almost afraid to look. Although the quiet part of this storm had yet to pass and was still overhead, Teine could see barely see the remnants of the setting sun behind the low, dense swirling front that was positively thick with flickers of lightning. There was an oncoming mass of clouds that had the fuzzy straight lines that heralded heavy rain, and it looked as though it was traveling nearly as fast as a horse could gallop. It was so still and quiet, Teine thought he could hear the sky itself groan. His mouth went dry, but he wasn't certain if it was excitement or fear.


A loud peal of thunder close enough to make the horses dance brought Teine back to the moment. Glancing over to see what was taking Madric so long, he blinked twice at what he saw. The Aoife magician had produced a metallic cord that he bound Marne's sack with while murmuring something that sounded like a cross between a rhythmic poem or a church hymn. As Madric chanted and gestured with his hands, it occurred to Teine he was probably casting a spell on the bag. His suspicious were confirmed when the strange runes around the edge of the outer sack began glowing with a bright green light. Huge, wet drops of rain began to fall. First one, then several, within seconds expanding into a downpour that obscured buildings just a few feet away.

It didn't take long for the runes to fade, but when they did, Madric stooped to pick Marne up and sling him gently over his shoulder. Phoebe stood at the ready with Madric's traveling hat, which he donned, his cape, which he threw over his other shoulder, and a magnificent wooden staff that seemed to be carved all over with vines. Speaking a few words of reassurance to the maid, Madric then stepped out over the threshold and strode toward the carriage.


The horses, seeing their Master, fidgeted in their anticipation. "Good evening, Madric." The chief groom greeted the wizard pleasantly, as if this was no unusual occurrence. "Your horses are fit and ready. Is there anything else you wish before you depart?"


Madric looked up, admiring the bricked arch that protected all of them from the rain. A mere ten feet away was sheeting downpour. "Do you have a really big umbrella?" he asked. As the grooms laughed at his humor, the Aoife magician turned to Teine. "Hop in... Teine, is it?" Wordlessly, Teine nodded, then clambered into the carriage. "You'll be sitting in front with me, but get into the back and I'll hand Marne to you." Teine did as he was asked. Marne, even swaddled in heavy layers of cloth, weighed hardly anything.


"I won't drop you," Teine told the boy as he eased him onto the nest of blankets and canvas cushions behind the bench seat.


"I know," Marne replied. If it was possible, his voice sounded even smaller, more vulnerable than it had in the room. "Don't be afraid."


"I'm not." It was a lie, and Teine suspected that Marne probably knew the truth, but he had to try and save face if he could. Meanwhile, the air had grown so thick, so pregnant with anticipation and curbed power, that Teine had the impression of sitting in a boat that was paused in mid-air, the instant before falling down a massive waterfall. As Madric climbed into the front bench and settled himself on the red leather seat, Teine couldn't help but ask the one question that had been nagging at him for the last few minutes.


"Hey Marne." he whispered, getting down low next to the bag. "Why are you all wrapped up like that? Are you hiding from someone?"


"Sort of," Marne answered. "It's so the storm won't see me."


All the hair on Teine's arms and the back of his neck stood up at once, and he startled as Madric turned around to lay his staff gently behind the seat with Marne. "Come on up here Teine," Madric said. "It's going to be a bit bumpy. You'll be more comfortable on the seat." Teine scrambled to comply, trying hard not to think about what the Aoife boy could have possibly meant.


Suddenly, Madric stood, tossed his hat casually in the back, and unchecked the cart brake. "Let's roll," he whispered. The horses surged forward as if they were one, their momentum shoving Teine back into his seat as he clutched blindly for the railing. Lightning flashed and the wind shrieked while Madric stood laughing, his expert hand on the reins. They careened down the Solmurry driveway, heading hellbent for the little dirt road that led to his Tower, with the maelstrom raging like a hungry animal hot on their heels.


To read Chapter 6, "The Shepherd" (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.

To read the whole story, starting at the beginning, click HERE!