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The resounding ringing of Chester-le-Ford’s bell tower overpowered, for a moment, the many other noises that filled the busy town. From sunrise to sunset, the timekeeper announced the hours which regulated the growing population's activities and, more importantly, announced the curfew so that no one would be surprised by the encroaching dark.
This time, it was announcing the nineteenth hour which meant, for Athelric and his siblings, the end of sword practice. He grinned at his opponent as, on Captain Sorik’s command, he disengaged. “Lucky for you, little brother, I can see you need the rest!”
He was mostly bluffing as he himself was also out of breath. Even though Chesmund was younger by two years, he was keen and fought with ardor. The lad laughed at his taunt, but before he could reply, Captain Sorik’s voice commanded their attention. “Good work today, lads, even you Mister Johen. Mister Chesmund, a word with you if you please. Others, put away your equipment then you are dismissed.”
Athelric winked knowingly at his brother’s quizzical expression. “Seems like you’re in trouble. I wouldn’t make him wait if I were you.” He took both their swords and padded armors, “You go, I’ll put this stuff away for both of us.” Watching his brother dejectedly walk over to the captain, he smiled inwardly knowing the surprise that was about to be revealed. Chesmund had desired to join the garrison for many moons, but their mother had held off giving her permission until now for reasons that he was now in charge of addressing.
Heading back to the practice court’ little armory, he quickly stowed the gear before heading over to lean against the thirty-five-foot-tall diorite sword monument just outside the garrison’s walls. He didn’t have to wait long before Chesmund walked out.
“Hey Esmund, congratul...”
“That’s Constable Esmund to you, Lord Elric, mister! And no loitering around the Garrison’s Monument!”
Chesmund said these words with such pride and elation that Athelric burst out laughing, exclaiming, “Well, what can I say? The situation is getting desperate enough for the garrison to need even the likes of you! So, what are your first orders, Constable O’Kleefe?”
Eagerly, his younger brother shared the details as they walked the short distance to the Villa. “I have the evening to gather my things and enjoy my last few hours as a civilian. At dawn, I have to report - without delay - to the sergeant in service at the garrison for integration.”
“You must be beside yourself with excitement, no?” said Athelric, happy to see his brother’s excitement.
“You could say that… how long have you known about this?” asked Chesmund.
“Not that long, but it was still difficult to hold my tongue around you. I know how much this means to you… But I also understand why Mother made you wait so long… and that’s something we actually need to talk about.”
Chesmund looking at him quizzically, furrowing his brow. “Oh? What is it?”
“We were both raised by Mrs Katea and trained by Captain Sorik and Lieutenant Elandre; you could go as far as to say that they shaped us into who we are today, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, definitely.”
“For this, they deserve our gratitude, respect and perhaps even affection; but you aren’t just some ordinary recruit… You’re a son of the House O’Kleefe. In matters of loyalty and duty, family comes first.”
“Of course it does… but why even bother reminding me of that? Is there some worriment between our House and Casadia?”
“None yet dear brother, except potentially their high level of influence in Chester-le-Ford. We must all be acutely aware of where our loyalties lie; the settlement is young and so is Wysteria. A few generations are not enough to build a true sense of fealty: everybody comes from somewhere else and their ties aren’t always local.”
“I wouldn’t worry much, Elric. With the endermen attacks, the garrison is too busy trying to protect the city to play political games.”
“Times of unrest often present the perfect opportunity for intrigues and trickery. The garrison’s captain and lieutenant are Casadian and members of the Slayers’ Guild. Two of the three sergeants are influential Kairatites dispatched to Chester-le-Ford by the Duke of Kaine. I do not mean to tell you that they shouldn’t be trusted, but as a son of the House O’Kleefe, you need to be vigilant; remember that, while you swear an oath to serve in the garrison, your first duty is to our House.”
Chesmund laughed, at they finally reached the door to his chambers. “You sound like Mother. You needn’t worry about me. I’ll keep your warning in mind; if I ever hear anything, you’ll be the first to know. Now, I’d better get started packing and I’ll see you later tonight at dinner.”
As Athelric walked away, he could hardly shake off the feeling that he was about to lose his one friend, even if he was happy for him. He wasn’t really close to the others; Johen was... well, a bit challenged with most things, such as sword fighting, horseback riding, or even basic social interactions. As for the twins, they were a whole new level of strange. They practically never left each other’s side, they often seemed to communicate without words, and they made every effort to look exactly the same. Despite this, he was never quite sure that they weren’t trying to actually kill each other during sword practice; they both already bore a few scars as a result of their... “mutual enthusiasm.” Then, there was their mother. Out of her five children, he was the closest to her and yet felt little more towards her than careful respect and something like admiration. Their relationship was not based on filial love, but more on obedience and duty.
Reflecting on this, he considered the speech he had just made to his brother, and his brother’s quick, if almost presupposed answer. With a hint of guilt, he wondered just how deeply his own convictions were held...
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As he finished packing the last of his belongings, Chesmund looked around the familiar, comfortable room. It has been his since he was a boy, and he’d never known another; to have to room with others - with much less privacy - was going to take some getting used to. But that was a sacrifice he had looked forward to making, ever since it was decided that he would one day join the garrison. He did regret the fact that he wouldn’t have a chance to spend this last night with his dear brother, but they both knew that their mother had the final say in all affairs.
Crouching down, he scanned beneath his old bed to make sure nothing had accidentally been left beneath. As he peered into the dark crawlspace - a common hiding spot of his when he was a boy - the sound of a creaking floorboard from behind startled him. Rising quickly to his feet, he spun around to meet this unexpected intruder, coming instead face-to-face with his sister.
“You’re dead, Mund! You’ll have to do better than that if you expect to last long as a guard,” taunted Lilian, hands on her hips and staring at him triumphantly.
“What do you mean? I heard you coming!” replied her brother.
“Perhaps, but not soon enough. A creeper would have blown you to bits…” answered the girl, a disturbing smile on her face.
“Sure, whatever sis,” interrupted Chesmund, his frustration growing by the second, “What are you doing here?”
“I want to make sure you leave my room clean. I decided to move in tomorrow. How about you help me haul my things since you seem done with packing?”
Chesmund frowned. “Why don’t you get him to help you?” he said, pointing at her twin who was leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly. “He’s always hanging around you anyway.”
“Jealous, Mund? Come on, it’d be easy for a big, strong guy like you,” teased Lilian, before leaning towards him and cocking her head. “Maybe I’ll kiss you again.”
Clenching his fists, Chesmund glared down at her, “Stop this. You’re lucky Mother hasn’t found out Lily, you never should have done that in the first place, it was wrong.”
“Well, you kissed back, as I recall…”
“No I didn’t, you’re remembering it wrong! I don’t have time for this.” he scolded. In the distance, the sound of the bell tower announcing the twentieth hour could be heard, interrupting the argument.
Lilian grinned at him and offered her arm, “Dinnertime already! Time goes by so quickly when we’re having fun! Will you escort me?”
Grabbing her by the arm, Chesmund firmly hustled her out of the room, growling “I’m not hungry.”
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Lady Liserett of the House O'Kleefe
Countess of Chester-le-Ford, Wysteria
Deputy Minister of Hermertian History
Appointed Minister of Wysterian Architecture
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