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She snorted a little huff of derision. "Barely. Much less so than they could be, given their opportunities."
Trying to sound calm, mature and worldly, Teine sighed. "I feel for them, I suppose. Not everyone is fortunate enough to be born at Solmurry."
"You do make it sound so nice. But tell me, how much schooling to they make you take?"
Teine had a good laugh at that. The only other person he'd ever known who talked about schooling as though it were an unhappy obligation was his friend Vosh. "You make it sound so... dull." he chuckled. "No, all of us get at least ten years. Then when we're fifteen or thereabouts, we become adults and get assigned to our apprenticeships, get sold or go on for more specialized training. Sometimes all three."
"What did you want to study?" Hamoni, like the boys before her, leaned both elbows on the table and looked up at Teine with a dreamy expression in her eyes. "I mean, did you get any choice in what you studied before now? Did you always know you'd end up belonging to Marne?"
Under normal circumstances, any beautiful female looking at him in that way, all sweet and attentive, would have sent Teine into a flurry of dialog in an to attempt to charm her. But she'd mentioned Marne. And not just in context with Teine's newfound position, either. She's asked what he'd given up. Broaching the subject sent a wave of sudden anger and sadness coursing through him, dashing up against his emotions like the storm that still battered the outside of the tower. It took him a second to realize he hadn't answered and she was still waiting for a reply. "No, it was a complete surprise," he admitted. "Although if I'd been paying better attention, I would have realized that Marne seems to like my line. Four generations of Amagis have worked as his nanny. My own Amagi just retired, and my full sibling Leis just took up the mantle."
Hamoni whistled her appreciation. "Yes, I do think that you might have suspected."
"But I didn't want to think about it," he replied, lowering his voice to be more appropriate to an intimate conversation. "My best friend Vosh went on to play Fabal. He's eligible for the draft this year and he's only a year older than me. He could be playing pro by next spring, and he said he'd had a few scouts asking around and he'd always mentioned me." He could tell he'd hit home by the surprised expression on her face, but that wasn't the half of it, so he continued. "Of course I'd love to play pro 'ball! Who wouldn't? But I had a back up plan, too."
"What?" Hamoni asked.
"I've already taken the first two drafting courses for ship design by correspondence." he said. "And I'm not bragging- I got good marks. I always thought I'd be there. Not just building the ships, but designing them too." As the words crossed his lips, Teine suddenly felt what seemed like a great weight lifting off his shoulders, a cloud of tension just breaking up and floating away, and realization suddenly struck him. He'd really wanted to build ships. It wasn't his "fall-back" plan, like he'd told all his cohort. It wasn't a "just in case." It had been his big dream. His one lifelong goal.
And now it was gone. And for what?
The chance to trade on his looks alone, his brain packed in mothballs like an outgrown sweater.
"Are you all right?" Hamoni asked when he didn't speak for a moment. "You look like you've been slapped across the face with a rotting fish."
Teine blinked. "Rotting fish?"
"Yes." Hamoni nodded solemnly. "I think I see the impressions from some of the scales..." Grinning wickedly, she pointed towards his cheek where he'd lain on his notebook earlier.
Teine jumped up, pulling over the pitcher to see his reflection. "Faugh! Is that still there?"
"No!" Hamoni roared, her laughter infecting the old woman in the corner scrubbing pans. "But I made you look!"
Teine, still not ready to give in to joviality, smiled his amusement. Then he dabbed at his face one more time before folding the napkin across his empty plate. "You know, I should probably get to work. But thank you for the pleasant conversation."
"My pleasure as well," she replied. "Come on, then. I'll show you the furniture room and get you some supplies lined up."
A few minutes later the two of them were standing on the threshold of a set of double doors. Teine was loaded to the eyes with cleaning supplies, with a extendable feather duster tucked under one arm that kept poking Hamoni in the back of the head. "Ow!" she said, pushing it away for the fifth time. "You know, before I open this, I think I'd better mention that Madric does not expect you to finish this project today," Hamoni warned him. "He said he thought it would take one person about a week to do right."
"Just open the door." Teine urged. "Put me in, Coach. I'm ready to play!"
She giggled, ducked the feather duster once more and swung both doors wide. "See? Horrific!"
Teine's eyes widened. The rooms, from what he could see of them, were packed nearly floor to high, lofty ceiling with dusty, cobwebby furniture of all kinds. Even the chandelier had been raised. It seemed someone had had the good sense to cover the upholstered goods with canvas sheeting, but still the sight was enough to make Teine wince and he was reluctantly forced to agree with Madric's assessment. "Where in the world did all of this come from?" he asked.
"Well, fashions come and go," Hamoni supplied, as if that explained everything. "I'd expect that this is the last hundred plus years of everything that's been discarded from Solmurry's Demense and the other-"
"Hey!" Teine interrupted, dropping the supplies in his enthusiasm. "I know those desks!" He shouldered his way into the room, pushing past a heavy oaken wardrobe and entangling himself in a standing coat rack. Finally he settled on a pile of carelessly stacked, child size desks. "These were in our nursery school, before they remodeled it."
"Happy hunting." Hamoni said, pulling the doors closed behind her.
"Wait, wait!" Teine called, retracing his steps as best as he could. "Anything in particular I'm supposed to do?"
"Clean them up. Carry them down. If you see furnishings you think you might like for these three rooms for you and Marne, set them aside. Now, I have to go, or I'll start..." Hamoni sneezed so hard she nearly knocked herself off her own feet.
Teine saluted. "Yes Ma'am. I'll get it done."
"Oh, Teine... because I like you..." she added, sniffling onto her sleeve. "I'll haul up a console radio to keep you company and drown out the storm."
Grinning, Teine nodded, then turned back to the enormous task ahead of him. He didn't mind the weather at all now, even though it was loud. Instead of feeling burdened by the assignment, it was kind of comforting. It was a job, with a beginning, middle and end. No sitting around waiting for orders. No guessing what he was supposed to do. In the absence of a Master or chore boss to guide him, he'd get to do his thing, his own way. Teine found himself kind of liking the idea. "All right, you," he said, pointing his finger at the coat rack. "You're about to be put in your place. And here's a hint. It's not here." He grabbed the waxy, lime-scented block of furniture polish and the first clean rag off the pile, and descended upon his hapless victim with an evil laugh.
To go to Chapter 10, "Tested" (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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