Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 15i

Maddock stood waiting outside the training-arena, tapping the training stick he had been issued with against his boot. The stick, like his tragasaur hide boots, tunic, breeches and arm bracers, was new, its surface smooth and unscarred. He looked around the Enclosures, which were strangely quiet after the commotion of the day before.

The previous afternoon, the Pride had been released back to the great-bailey, and the Field-hands had been ordered to the task of cleaning up the vacated pens. The sun had been closing on the horizon by the time Maddock and the others had finished their labours, and their shadows had been long as they wheeled their empty hand-carts down the hill from the gardens. They'd had little rest all day, and never did get the chance to climb to the fortress and see the remains of the two assassins that were the cause of their pains. They had been discussing the possibility of sneaking up the next day, despite Macus' assertions that there would be very little left of the creatures to be seen, when Cirric had pointed back down towards the Enclosures.

"Oh, shit-balls!"

The other boys had looked and given similar curses.

Another group of knights was riding in, at least twenty of them.

"I thought they were all back from their hunting," one boy had said.

"No, they ain't been hunting," Cirric had put in, his hand held up to shade his eyes from the sinking sun. "That's not riding-armour they're wearing."

Maddock had raised his own hand over his eyes and peered at the approaching knights.

"And that's Vikas' banner. It's Commander Galder!"

"The boy's right you know," Macus had growled.

Cirric had been scratching the back of his neck beneath his mop of dark hair.

"I wonder what he's doing back down here."

Maddock had wondered the same thing. He had heard nothing from his brothers for months, and he was hoping Sir Galder's return to the fortress indicated some significant development in the north that meant they would soon be returning home.

The boys had watched as the knights rode into the Enclosures, followed by a retinue of other riders; the knights' squires, and some Madriel-masters, into whose care their steeds had been handed as they dismounted. A group of the knights, six in all, had immediately set off towards the battle-grounds and the unseen chain-carriage station.

"That's definitely the Commander," Cirric had said, his hand shielding his eyes again. "Must be some big news for him to come himself. We'd best get down there. Sure the beasts'll want some food getting."

Maddock had reluctantly taken up the handles of his hand-cart.

"I hope it won't take too long."

"Don't you worry, none. You get back to the refectory and get some fodder for yourself, then get some nap. Big day tomorrow, remember."

Maddock could hardly forget, and he had gratefully done as Cirric suggested, but despite a full belly and the exhaustion of his labours, sleep had not come quickly. His mind had been wild, not only with the anticipation of the following morning's training, but also with the constant pondering at the meaning of Sir Galder's return. Despite that, he had been asleep when his fellow Field-hands had returned to the bunk-house, and he had woken before them that morning, so he had still heard no news.

The door to the training-arena clicked open behind him.

"Ah, Maddock," said Madriel-master Dramut. "Nice to see you are as prompt as usual. Come on in, boy."