Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 33

The day's excitement was beginning to thin for Grifford.

That evening's rituals had lasted an eternity, and had turned out to be a fine example of distilled boredom. They had started well enough, with his father receiving Fortak's blessing from Chief-communicant Vennar. He had felt supreme pride and elation as he sat with the other squires and watched the old man anoint, first the helmet, and then the chest-plate, of his father's armour. But his father's blessing had been followed by the other Pride-commanders, and they had been followed by those of the knights of the third Echelon, and then the fourth.

Hours crawled by as knight after knight passed up the hall's aisle, and the High Communicant's repeated blessing echoed again and again around the white vaulted ceiling above.

Late afternoon had turned to early evening.

As the ceremony drew on and on, he glanced down at his mother, where she sat among the other ladies and their daughters on the stepped strip-seats that filled the sloping chamber below, all dressed in their splendid finery. He scowled at his sister's absence, and wondered again what tale or excuse she would concoct as a reason for it.

He also wondered briefly at Tasker's absence.

The squire's little cohort of friends were there; he could see them high up near the back of one of the opposite tiers. Gefry sat in their centre with his usual haughty expression. Brefoir kept looking around at the assembled squires and whispering things to his two colleagues, making them either smirk or, in the case of Marcin, laugh thuggishly. Not one of them looked over to where he sat, or met his gaze. They seemed to have been steadfastly avoiding him since their run in at the riding-contests, and their subsequent humiliation at the hands of Master Sprak. That was fine by him. For now at least.

He put Tasker's absence from his mind. The boys in the sloping tiers had come to honour their fathers and witness their blessing. Tasker had no good reason to be there.

The procession of knights finally came to an end, and Chief-communicant Vennar ascended the spiralling stair to the railed pulpit.

Grifford gave an inward sigh of relief. The evening would soon be done.

Then the singing began.

The Communicants' voices rose from the darkness behind the high dais, echoing up into the chamber's heights in overlapping waves of supposedly beautiful melody. Grifford gave another sigh, not so inward and definitely not one of relief.

After the singing, Chief-communicant Vennar began an intolerably long sermon, which Grifford could only half concentrate on. It seemed to be about the founding of the Order, which then lapsed into the reading of the long register of all the Grand-commanders that there had ever been and then, after another long bout of celestial singing, the ceremony was over.

Even then, he had to wait another half hour while the ladies filed out from the floor below, before the upper tiers began to empty and he could finally leave. The sky was almost full dark outside, and he groaned in frustration when he saw the lines of glow-lights that lit the vast column of people snaking its slow way up the roadway to the access-keep. The knights had been reunited with their ladies, and were returning to the fortress.

Only his father and Commander Galder would remain at the battle-grounds that night.

With a sigh, he joined the back of the column and started his slow ascent. It had been a long day, and he would be happy to get to his bed.

* * * * *

Tahlessa settled herself thankfully beside the window of her bedroom chamber. Though she had grown used to the protracted temple ceremonies over the years, it had still been a very long evening. When she was a girl, she had always found them tedious, but she had still attended every single one of her father's blessings. The memory of her daughter's disobedience brought a frown back to her face, but then Kralmir began to cry.