Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 17ii

Maddock looked at Grifford.

"We have to collect all the dung into our buckets and put it in this here cart," he said. "When the cart is full, we take it to the gardens. To the compost pits."

"I am not doing it."

"What?"

The squire didn't move from his position on the fence.

"I said that I am not shovelling dung. You will do it. When that bad tempered fool comes back, you can tell him that we both did it. You can do my share."

"Right," said Maddock.

He took up his shovel and bucket, and crossed to the far fence of the pen. When he turned to look back at the squire, he was still leaning on the fence, a smile of victory on his face.

Maddock stuck his shovel in the muddy earth and then dragged it, walking backwards along the pen's centre, scraping a rough line in the grass.

"What are you doing, boy?" growled the boy from behind him.

Maddock finished drawing the line and straightened up.

"I'm going to clear this side," he said, pointing with his shovel. "That side's yours. When Master Sprak comes back, you can tell him why the job's half done."

The squire came quickly off the fence, his fists in two tight balls.

"You will do as I tell you, Field-hand!"

"Or else what?"

Grifford advanced on him, across the muddy pen.

"Or I will put you in the Infirmary, you idiot whelp!"

Maddock remembered the advice Cirric had given him regarding the temperament of squires, and the best way to avoid their aggressive attention.

He chose to ignore it.

"Ah, now that would be just stupid," he said, unflinching before the squire's anger. "Already in trouble with Master Sprak aren't you? He'll punish you good for beating one of his Field-hands."

Grifford stopped in front of him, one fist half raised, a frown on his face.

"That man has no authority to punish me!" he said.

Maddock simply shrugged, turned, and went towards a group of large boulders where dung littered the ground.

"Suit yourself."

Maddock set to shovelling dung into his bucket.

"What!" demanded Grifford.

Maddock ignored him.

The boy stepped over the line that Maddock had drawn, and marched towards him.

Maddock straightened up as he drew close. He took in the dire look in the squire's eyes, and the white knuckles of his clenched fists.

"Aye," he said. "Your sister told me you weren't so clever."

"What?" Grifford demanded. "When have you been speaking to my sister?"

"Few times. Last was on the day the rains came. Ain't she told you what happened?"

"No."

Maddock shrugged.

"Well, it's not for me to say if she ain't told you herself."

He bent back to his work.

"I could beat it out of you."

"Aye. That you could."

Grifford took a step towards him, but Maddock ignored the squire and carried on shovelling dung.