Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 4i

This chapter is dedicated to the very wonderful Cinilla, who I think must spend as much time writing her comments as she does reading the chapters themselves. Her feedback is always encouraging and insightful, and her keen eye for clarity has already helped to improve this work in so many ways.

If you are not already familiar with her work, I would heartily encourage you to pay her a visit. Go and follow in the footsteps of Claudius, as he leads you down the road to scandal. 

What can I say about Claudius Pulcher?

A man with aspirations of political greatness, to be purchased by the profits of war.

A gambler, a liar, a charmer, and the originator of the notorious eel scam.

A man entwined in an incestuous relationship with his sister. Lover of fine wine, deep fried doormice, orgies, and other people's wives.

The list goes on.

Many of these qualities he can be forgiven for, because he's a Roman. The others? Well, you'll just have to decide for yourselves.

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"High Lance-master Tzarren."

The man's voice was formal, but his face held a wicked grin.

"High Madriel-master Sprak," replied Master Tzarren, with equal formality.

The short, stocky Madriel-master leant against the wood of a thick beam tree pen, his rough trousers and vest reinforced and patched with thicker hide. His grey hair had been cut close to his scalp, revealing its disfiguring old scars, and his arms, folded above his expanse of stomach, bore similar mended wounds. The heavy stick hanging from a loop at his belt was as deeply scarred from teeth and claw as the Madriel-master was himself.

"And this must be Kraf's boy!"

"I am Grifford," said Grifford indignantly. "Pride-commander Kralaford's son."

Madriel-master Sprak scratched at some small irritant behind his ear.

"Who your father is has no importance here, boy," he said as he scratched.

Grifford opened his mouth to reply, but Master Tzarren placed a hand on his shoulder.

"These are the Enclosures, Grifford. This is Master Sprak's territory."

"Yes," said Grifford, but he continued to scowl at the short, scarred Madriel-master.

Master Sprak came off the pen's side, took two steps forward and stopped with his face a few scant centimetres away from Grifford's, his brutal eyes piercing and his breath stinking.

"Do you challenge me, boy?"

Grifford continued to meet the glare of the Madriel-master's small hostile eyes.

"Grifford!" warned Master Tzarren.

Grifford lowered his eyes deliberately, staring instead at the front of Master Sprak's patched tunic. He would not give the man the satisfaction of seeing him lower them any further than that.

"Good enough," said the High Madriel-master, the grin returning to his face.

He stepped back and resumed his position on the side of the empty pen.

"Where are you holding the litters?" asked Master Tzarren.

"The nursing block. I've put them all together to let them fight out their place. We'll get a good steed for the boy out of them."