William

"Whoa, Anir! Steady now!" called William as the horse he rode cantered to a stop. He dismounted and fondly stroked the horse's nose.  

Jacob, one of William's fellow grooms, wagged his head in wonder. "Only one week, and you turn a dangerous animal into a fine riding horse.  You truly have a gift for horse training, Will."  

He looked down at his body resignedly. "I'll never ride a horse, much less tame a wild stallion."

William suppressed a laugh. Jacob’s apelike frame was a stark contrast to his own lean, muscled body. He raked damp brown hair off of his forehead. “Remind me why you’re working with horses again?” he teased, grinning broadly.

“Beats working with pigs, I guess,” Jacob returned dryly, watching Anir graze contentedly.

Their good-natured banter ceased as they saw two men approaching. Jacob groaned when he recognized Crenshaw, the head stable master, but the other man was far more imposing.

"William! It seems you have tamed Anir exceedingly well. I'm sure Lady Della will be pleased."  

William bowed his head deferentially. “Thank you, my lord,” he murmured.

"Jacob, rub that horse down immediately! You've loitered about long enough!" Crenshaw snapped.

Crenshaw’s temper was legendary and Jacob often found himself on the receiving end of it, much to his chagrin. He quickly led the horse away, Crenshaw on his heels.

Lord Samuel turned his attention back to William. "King Percival has graciously invited us to Nirennen for the celebration of his son’s coming of age. I need a groom for the trip, and your skill with Anir tells me you’re just the man for the job."  

William was surprised by the unexpected honor. "Of course, sir," he replied, bowing again.

Lord Samuel grinned broadly. "Good! We’re leaving in three days. I've informed Crenshaw, and he’s grudgingly consented to spare you. This is a grand opportunity; don’t let it go to waste." He winked at William and strode off in the direction of the great house.

The manor stood on a rise just beyond the stableyard, huge and red and shimmering slightly in the heat. The glass windows - worth a fortune! - reflected the afternoon sun like mirrors, bright and pristine. A well-watered lawn halved by a dusty lane ran before it like a herald announcing the arrival of a king. Great trees grew close to the mansion, casting swathes of shade onto it and enveloping the servants’ quarters some way behind it, hiding the common inhabitants from noble eyes.

William sighed and reluctantly returned to the stables. After finishing his duties he decided to take a shortcut through the dense grove of trees surrounding the house. It was cool and dim compared to the dazzling sunshine without, and he could see servant children peeking out at him from the branches, swinging their bare legs carelessly.

As he approached the far side, he heard the chattering of female voices.  When he emerged from the trees, he saw four women by the sparkling pond that lay at the bottom of the rise. Lady Della and her daughters, Catherine and Rachel, were sitting on luxurious cushions near the water’s edge. The fourth was Luciana, Catherine’s maid. She stood a respectful distance away, her hands folded gracefully in front of her. William raised a hand in greeting and she smiled at him, her long red hair blowing gently in the breeze.

Catherine caught sight of William and groaned loudly. “Luciana,” she called over her shoulder, “gather my things. I’ve no wish to endure the sight of a stable boy traipsing about.”

Luciana gave William an apologetic look and obeyed, following the ladies back up to the house. William watched them go, the breeze cooling the sweat on his back.

According to Orrimman law, a man might pay off his debt by indenturing himself or his children to his debtor until the debt was paid. If the man died before the debt was settled, his children must work until it is paid. Many servants, including William and Luciana, were in that exact situation, forced to work off debt handed down by their parents. Though they were paid a paltry sum, they were still little better than slaves.

Sometimes William couldn’t help thinking poorly of his father and tried not to blame him. His reasons must have been good for him to send his son into such a desperate situation, he told himself for the thousandth time, entering the stables. Anir poked his head out of his stall, nickering softly. William patted him absently, wondering if he would ever have a life of his own choosing.