Scavengers of the Deadlands

Chapter Four: In which Abigail receives detention and her first warning

It was not, Abigail reflected, that she did not find politics interesting nor think that they were important, but it had been a long night. And Professor Bjornston did rather slur and mispronounce his words, making it extremely difficult to hold her attention for long. She rested her head on her hands and tried vainly to assimilate what he was saying.

“… The dukedom of Kalimere fell under the jurisdiction of one Duke Dariel Almeeda and is a fine case where the ruling class is neither based on that of a large and powerful species but instead a smaller and faster one. It is also true that the Lion-kin do not take kindly do being lead by anyone, least of all a Meerkat, but the large Felids lack in true ambition and certainly do not have the organisation…”

Professor Bjornston was himself of small, carnivorous blood. Small in stature with short pointed ears and a short muzzle, his fur was currently moulting from a pale brown into the pure white of his Kin’s winter coat. There was an intentness to his gaze, which he applied every few seconds to his class, piercing glare being quick to pin anyone who was not paying full attention.

“Miss Galbraith,” he snapped in a quick yap, “are we keeping you up?”

Abigail flushed, scrunching up in her seat as though it might render her invisible to that penetrating glare. “No sir,” she whispered, “I did not sleep well Sir. I’m sorry.”

“And so you should be,” he grumbled, “you will stay after class and tidy it in preparation for the new week. One does not yawn, nor doze, in my lectures. Now, sleepy, can you tell me about the social structure of Kalimere? Where is it?”

She gulped, geography was not her strong suit. “Kalimere is a plains-style kingdom across the Deadlands,” she said, “to the north-east. It was initially ruled by Lion-kin, but under their paws quickly fell into a clumsy state of ruin and economic failure, until the Meerkat commoners rebelled and put Duke Dariel into the seat of power.” She paused, “that’s right, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” the professor sounded quite surprised. “Very good. And that shows us that just because you are large and powerful does not mean you are necessarily going to make a decent ruler. Since Dariel took control Kalimere have become a major player in the import of goods and frequently send airships across the Deadlands to the other kingdoms. They are thus of major import in the world of social politics, not least of all because teknomages are required in the creation and maintenance of airships. Now, this weekend I want you all to write a one thousand word essay on the importance of Kalimere in relation to Magedom. Very well?”

Abigail groaned. She had been hoping to spend the weekend exploring the gardens, but it seemed that were not to be the case. It looked like a visit to the library would be necessary. Then she smiled at the realisation – she could take the time to research the spell on the chest, maybe learn how to open it. Her mind reeled at what she might discover in there. Maybe it was something of her mother’s? A diary perhaps - or some other sort of treasured item. Her mind boggled with delight and apprehension, so much in fact that she failed to notice her classmates departing.

“Daydreaming again?” Professor Bjornston stood before her, leaning casually on the table. “Well, I would suggest you quickly put an end to that.” He handed her a broom. “Sweep up.”

She accepted it, barely managing to stifle another yawn and set about her task. The stone floor was littered with leaves, twigs, dirt and assorted other bits-and-bobs, including a clear opate. She picked up the small object, flat on one side and spherical on the other – like a ball chopped in half. It was small change, nothing more, but it did catch the light in a pretty manner, and thus she pocketed it, glancing across at the Professor, but he was poring over a sheaf of papers.