Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 20i

The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon as Maddock crossed the riding-grounds, but the heat of the day still smothered the land. Master Dramut had released him and the other Field-hands only once the masdon cart had been hauled to the gardens, and its stinking contents transferred to the pits. The other Field-hands had filed into the bath-house complaining of aching backs and limbs, but he had no time to join in with their gripes. He had scrubbed and rinsed himself down quickly, then pulled on clean clothes. He'd called a quick farewell to the other boys as they still soaked in the hot water of the first bath, which was slowly turning mud brown.

His body was still hot from his day's labours, his hasty bath had done little to cool it, and his fresh clothes were soon plastered to his back again. He was beginning to regret not having spent some time in the bath-house's cool levelling pool. He stopped at one of the riding-grounds' troughs, took some gulps of water, and then doused his head in its icy cold before he set off again towards the battle-grounds.

When he reached them, they were uncommonly quiet. The construction of the new arenas around the five jousting rings was almost done. Most of the Engineers had left, though he could see, high on the new structure, two of them still working at the base of one of the banner-poles that ringed the outer wall.

He ran along the open ended avenue that skirted the new arenas, past its rows of closed up stalls. In the morning, the new thoroughfare would be packed as the crowds waited for the gates in the rear of the stands to open and admit them to the spectacle that was the tourney. Maddock felt a justified envy for those rich enough to be able to afford entry, and for those lucky few hundred common folk who would be allowed to enter for free.

Larrad, the youngest of his three brothers, had once told him that, a few years before, their father had been one of the lucky recipients of an entry token, but rather than attend, he had sold it to buy maylard grain for the farm. Even though he did not completely believe his brother, it would not have surprised Maddock that his father would do such a thing. Still, he knew many people who had witnessed previous tourneys, and they sounded thrilling. Even though his soul ached to see them for himself, he had resigned himself to the fact that he would be witnessing that year's critical events third hand, in the crowded arena-field.

That was where the avenue led. When he reached it, the place was as quiet as the rest of the battle-grounds. It was a vast expanse of flat land whose eastern edge was bordered by the slope of the fortress hill, which rose to a cliff that curved sickle like around the field's northern edge. The fortress-bailey's curtain wall, built along the height of the cliff, with the tall sentinel tower in its centre, enclosed the space still further.

In the mornings, the arena-field was a place covered in the fortress' shadow, but as Maddock crossed the deserted expanse, the sun was slowly sinking and the field was a bowl of light. As he ran, he inspecting the bright banners that flew over the pavilions arrayed along the field's western border. He was looking for the banner of Pride-commander Galder. Even though he knew he was too late to see his brothers' return, he was hoping they were still somewhere within the battle-grounds, and thought the enclave of Sir Galder was the best place to start looking.

After his last meeting with Dak's friend, the Order brat, he was more than familiar with the banners of the six Pride-commanders. First he passed the grey tents of Bannoc Chapter, then the yellow and red of Dolphus. Beyond the green and black tents of Katchewan stood the white ones of Jacob, and in their centre stood the pavilion of Lord Morath, which stuck out from the others because it was draped in dull grey-brown cloth, the colour of the fallows plain. The dead Grand-commander's banner, with its cherossa tree and rearing madriel, still flew proudly in front of its secured door and was ringed by a detachment of his guard, even though the tent stood empty.