Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 29i

Later that evening, as the sky was stained creamy orange by the sinking sun, Maddock was far from starved. Master Dramut had provided the Field-hands with plates of food as a reward for their day's efforts. Added to the slices of meat, fresh baked bread and grilled vegetables, were several bags of pastries that some of the senior Field-hands had acquired in the days leading up to the contests.

Maddock, being the undisputed hero of the day, had first pick of these, and found them to be delicious and only marginally stale. After telling the tale of his victory over the universally hated Tasker for the sixth time, to the eager Field-hands gathered around the table, he sat back in his chair and let out a deep sigh. His stomach felt so full, he seemed unable to take a complete lung-full of breath. He had never, in the entirety of his life, eaten so much all at once.

Cirric sat beside him, looking equally well stuffed and contented. Not long before, news had come from the Infirmary that the injured Macus was awake, though his wounds were not light. Cirric's face held one of his brooding scowls when the young Field-hand had first arrived, but it quickly vanished when he heard that the news was not dire.

He plucked one of the few remaining pastries from the table and threw it to the Field-hand.

"Go and give him that, so he don't miss out."

The Field-hand smiled, and turned to leave.

"Best tell him not to eat it too fast though, else he might bust another rib."

Laughter rippled around the refectory.

"I'm away to my bed soon," said a Field-hand, sitting on the other side of Maddock. "I'm well full."

"Aye, madriel won't muck themselves," said Cirric. "So an early start again tomorrow."

"Not for me," said Maddock. "Master Dramut says I can have the day off."

"Only fair," said Cirric. "Good old Dramut."

"I heard it was Sprak what suggested it," said one of the Field-hands further down the table.

"Well, well," said Cirric, turning to Maddock. "Looks like you've caught the attention of the High Madriel-master."

"Is that good?"

"Well some might say it is, but most would say not."

"Oh."

"Best not to worry on it. So what will you do with your day tomorrow?"

"Back home. Going tonight."

Maddock looked out of the refectory window, where the colour of the sky was deepening.

"Suppose I'd better get a move on, before the great-bailey gets dark."

"Maddock won't have anything to fear from the Pride tonight, will he lads?" said Cirric to the boys in the refectory, who all gave a raucous cheer.

Maddock smiled.

"Still, I'd best be gone."

He clambered down from his chair, his stomach feeling heavy and bloated with bread and pastries. He made his way through the crowd, who all smiled and called their farewells. Most, like Maddock, looked tired and half asleep. Cirric opened the door for him and gave him a final slap on the back to usher him into the cool evening beyond. There were a few final shouts of farewell, then the door closed behind him.

It might simply have been the contrast to the stuffy warmth of the refectory that made the air outside seem fresher and sweeter than usual, or it might have been the excitement of the day. Whichever it was, he made his way through the Enclosures and on towards the riding-grounds with a light step, despite his stomach's heaviness. The light on the western horizon was now a brilliant band of red, which bled upwards to purple and then arched above his head to clear blue, before fading to black on the far eastern horizon.