Sentries Box Set

Chapter 1-1

Chapter 1Nick tucked the last of his possessions into a leather bag. After setting it carefully beside the other two bags on top of a heavy wooden trunk, he straightened and stared out the window.

This small room had been his home for as long as he could remember.

It wasn’t so much that he’d miss this room or this village; it was that he was leaving everything he knew.

Nick was being remanded into the hands of a family in the only large city for nearly a thousand miles. This village, his village, Eldrid, was similar to the serfdoms of the past and existed for the exclusive reason of raising slave children to adulthood. Nick, like the other children in this village, spent their lives being educated and trained to become an asset to a master or mistress in their endeavors. He’d be leaving the mild, temperate area in the southern part of the protectorate and moving farther north and west, nearer the mountains. Nick’s path had been chosen for him when he was very young. He’d been trained and educated to be given into servitude to strangers. All because he was special.

Nick didn’t want to be special.

There had been words spoken in hushed tones so many years ago Nick didn’t even remember how old he was when he’d heard them—four, five maybe? Two of the tutors huddled with the village elders and later outsiders who would visit the village regularly. Nick only recalled bits and pieces, but it’d been enough to set the course of his life and label him distinct among the other slave children.

“The boy can describe in detail people who died here twenty years ago,” one tutor had said.

“He knew those merchants who came through last week were actually thieves by just looking at them. There are people who seek out slave children like him,” another tutor had pointed out.

Nick sighed. As he’d grown, he’d learned to keep observations like that to himself. People didn’t like it, particularly his tutors.

In a few hours what his tutors liked or didn’t like wouldn’t matter anymore. He’d be leaving Eldrid, Nick hoped it would be forever.

He took out the ornately carved wooden box, opened it, and fingered the soft leather contained within. The final gift he’d received a few short months ago from the man he’d been betrothed—given—to years ago.

The man he’d call Master.

He’d seen the man a few times a year from a distance but never met or spoken to him. They’d watched each other grow from children to teens and finally adults, their only communications being letters. Nick wondered if the same small group of men and women who’d dictated he’d be trained to fight and use weapons, required the same of his master as he grew up. It was his future master who’d sent him books to study and occasionally works of fiction to read just for fun. Sometimes Nick received food or an ornate knife or other small gift. Everything came with a note. Every four or five months there were longer letters. It was all he knew of the man and the family he’d been promised to. He’d always written back and it seemed the man cared about his words. Nick hoped the man, Todd, was as interested in him as his letters led Nick to believe. Whenever Nick saw another letter his mood soared, even if many of the other children—and some tutors—resented the attention bestowed on Nick.

Todd sometimes addressed Nick as Nicky in his letters. Nick had never heard his name spoken aloud in any way other than Nick, and then it was mostly with harshness, never with care. He wondered what it would sound like, hearing Nicky.

The letters were kind and almost affectionate, or at least Nick wanted to think them so. He’d grown up here. His training and tutoring had taken place here. There was no affection shown to Nick by anyone here—he was property, pure and simple. Maybe he read too much into the letters and gifts, but they were bright spots in Nick’s lonely life. He had dared to hope maybe the boy who became the man sending the letters might, someday, have feelings for him. Nick certainly had feelings for Todd, though he had to keep them hidden away as long as he lived in this village.

Wondering about why he’d been trained in the way he had, Nick sighed. “Hope to hell I haven’t been sold to a family of assassins.” He couldn’t see any other reason why he’d have to learn to use so many weapons. The books he’d been given to read by the village tutors ranged from history and religion to what had to have been flights of bizarre fantasy and offered him no more clues. He studied other things, of course, the sciences, mathematics, and the arts, like all the children raised here. The choice of books and Nick’s specialized education was dictated by the needs of his future master.

When the small train of wagons pulled into the village center, two of the elders bustled out to greet them. Nick recognized his master, who was riding a horse. An older man, who years ago Nick had learned was his new master’s father, climbed down from the lead wagon and strode forward to greet the elders. He was a gruff-looking man, and Nick had always been slightly afraid of him, though had never had any interaction with him.

He watched his master, Todd Ruger, as he’d done so many times over the years when Todd and his father passed through Nick’s village. He’d never once seen any gesture of kindness or affection between Todd and his father. Nick wondered if this was what his life was destined to be like. Life with a man who was cold, uncaring, and perhaps didn’t even like him?

Then Nick remembered the many letters he’d received over the years. There was nothing cold or uncaring about those letters, and for the first time Nick felt a thread of excitement coil in his belly. He was curious about his master. What was he really like? Would they be friends? More?

His insides fluttered when one of the aides serving the elders came for him. Nick shouldered his bags, but there were others to carry the trunk. The box containing his leather collar was gripped in both hands. He obediently followed the aides to the wagons. It would take two or three days, depending on the weather, to reach New Colorado City. There were trains, but they didn’t run anywhere near Nick’s small village.

“This him?” The elder Ruger stepped closer to Nick and peered at him. “What’s your name, boy?”

Nick’s eyes darted to the man’s face, well aware that the man knew Nick’s name. He finally pulled a name out of his head. John Ruger. The look of sheer anger crossing John’s features when Nick’s eyes met his for that second made Nick’s insides tremble. He dropped his eyes to the ground at once, horrified with himself for committing such a crime. “N-Nick, sir.”

“Huh. You got anything in that head?” John snapped at him.

Nick had no idea how to even begin to respond to that without getting his head removed from his shoulders, so he stood quietly, staring at the ground. He wanted to crawl away and die.

Barely paying attention to Todd swinging off his horse and tying its lead to the front wagon, Nick heard Todd’s long strides coming at him. A warm, gentle hand rested on Nick’s shoulder and pushed him back a step as Todd eased between Nick and John.

“You’re being an ass, Dad. Cut it out. He’s just a kid. We’ve had this discussion. You wanted me to do this. I’m doing it. But I’m doing it my way. Let’s not forget Nick belongs to me, not you.” Todd glanced around, not taking his hand from Nick’s shoulder. “Can we just get things finalized and get on our way?”

John nodded and took a thin leather-bound book from the only female aide. He motioned to the young woman to get on with it.

“I’m sorry,” Nick whispered when the others stepped away from him and Todd and moved closer to the first wagon. His knuckles were white around the wooden box containing his collar.

Todd turned and looked him up and down. He smiled, making his intense green eyes soften and crinkle at the edges. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Nick felt some of the tension drift out of him. He raised his head slightly and offered Todd a shy smile. The fingers on his shoulder pressed down more, filling Nick with an unexpected warmth and reassurance.

“C’mon,” Todd said in a hushed, gentle tone. “Let’s get this done. Then you and I can be left alone in our wagon.”

Nick nodded and followed Todd to the small group gathered around a table set up for the final step to complete their bonding—transfer of ownership. Somehow, being alone with Todd in their wagon didn’t sound so scary. He stood quietly behind Todd, taking in every detail. The elders, then John Ruger and another older man signed the papers in the book. Finally, they were handed to Todd, who signed without hesitation. A seal was applied on the final page before the book was closed and formally presented to Todd by the village elders.

There were a few words of congratulations, and it’s been our honor to provide this slave, and so on, exchanged between them. Except for Todd, he stood in the midst of the group, quiet, offering only a polite nod here and there.

That was what Nick’s life amounted to. Some papers were signed, and his ownership transferred from this small village, where he was simply Nick, to Todd Ruger. Though he’d have none of the rights, it did give him a surname. He was now Nick Ruger.

Next one of the older slave children rang a gong three times. Nick held the wooden box out to Todd and began to kneel as he’d been taught since he could walk.

Todd shook his head and grabbed Nick’s arm, stopping him. “No kneeling.”

A wave of hushed exclamations skimmed through the group and John Ruger gave a warning grumble, “Todd—”

To which Todd immediately snapped, “My way.” Without taking the box from Nick, Todd opened it and took the collar out, holding it in both hands. He very gently and carefully fastened it around Nick’s neck and whispered, “Nicky.”

Nick would wear his collar whenever they were out in public. Most slaves didn’t wear their collars in private unless they’d become mates to their owners. Then it symbolized their union and often accompanied exchanging vows, frequently done in private.

After following Todd to their wagon, Nick waited patiently while Todd removed his horse’s saddle and tucked it into a side compartment in the back of the covered wagon. He stuck his head inside and pulled it back out a second later. “Is that all your stuff? You get to bring everything you own, or didn’t anyone bother to tell you that?”

Nick nodded, a bit awestruck. No one had ever cared about him or his possessions in his entire twenty-two years. “Yes, sir…Master.”

Todd sighed and stepped completely behind the wagon, tugging on Nick’s sleeve for him to follow. When they were out of sight of everyone else, Todd’s hand rested on the side of Nick’s neck. “You know my name is Todd. You call me Todd, unless we’re somewhere the law says you’re required to call me otherwise. That’s rule number one. Rule two is you stay away from my father and his pack of asshole hunting buddies. You don’t go anywhere near them without me, ever.”

“Yes, sir…Todd.” Hunters. These men were hunters. That couldn’t be so bad. It gave Nick visions of spending warm summer nights under the stars, in the wilderness, tracking buffalo or deer or moose or whatever one hunted on warm summer nights.

Todd’s finger hooked under Nick’s chin, lifting until Nick was looking him in the eye. “And you look at me when you talk to me, Nicky.”

Nick’s face split into a smile. He couldn’t help it. For some reason, when Todd said Nicky, for the first time in Nick’s young life, it seemed like home. Todd grinned right back at him, and Nick’s heart fluttered; Todd was an amazingly handsome man.

“I could stand to see that smile a few times a day, too.” Todd’s hand was back on his neck again, giving it a squeeze.

When John barked that it was time to leave, Todd rolled his eyes and tipped his head to the front of the wagon. He took the box from Nick’s hands and stored that in the back of the wagon, too. After dropping the canvas cover over the opening, he headed to the front of the wagon and stepped to one side while Nick climbed into the seat. Settled beside Nick, Todd took up the team’s reins and guided them from the village and onto the open road.