"I really should be getting back!" said Dak, for what she knew was the fifth time. "Father will be wondering where I have got to."
She peered out from the shadow of the lower chain-carriage station, at the red band of the sun's final light.
"Just tell him that you met a friend after the contests, and stopped with them to eat. It is pretty much the truth."
Tahlia had managed to get hold of a plate of roasted karabok meat and a jug of flowered hive water from the kitchens beneath the observation tower, though most of it was now gone.
"But if he knows that I have been spending time with you, he will be fearfully angry."
"So do not tell him you have been with me."
"But he will be asking."
"So lie."
"To my father! You know that I cannot."
"We will go soon. All right?"
"All right," said Dak, but she became more and more nervous as the sun slowly set, and the shadows thickened into the darkness of night. Only when the last light from the sun was an impression on the horizon did Tahlia allow them to leave.
Dak sighed with relief, calculating that she could still be back at her father's workshop before the night was full dark, if she were to hurry and there were no delays. But as they rounded the base of the station tower, Dak saw four figures being herded along by the fuming form of Klinberg's High Madriel-master. Master Sprak carried a hand-light, and in its rippling luminescence she could see the faces of the four squires that were being pushed along in his wake. One of them was Tasker.
"What is going on with them?" asked Tahlia from where she had gone to crouch in the tower's shadow.
"Who could be knowing?" replied Dak.
"Come on. Let us go and see."
"But, Tahlia..!"
Tahlia, staying in the night's shadows, followed the five figures, ignoring her whispered protests.
Master Sprak marched the boys up the steps of the terrace and yelled for the attention of the squires seated at the tables there. His voice was so loud, Dak could hear every word as she blundered after Tahlia. The Madriel-master began to recount the events that had taken place beneath the stands at the riding-grounds, and the parts the squires had played in them. He also began an explanation of the punishments the boys would receive, starting with them clearing the tables of their fellow squires, but Dak did not hear the rest of what was said. Before she had even reached the stairs up to the terrace, Tahlia hurtled out of the darkness and dashed across the band of light being cast from the terrace above.
Without a word, she disappeared into the near darkness again, heading for the riding-grounds and the Enclosures beyond. Dak turned and followed, but she was no match for Tahlia's speed. She knew that she should go straight home, but Master Sprak had mentioned a Field-hand as being the cause of the squires' dispute; the one who had cost Tasker the contests. Though he was not named, Dak knew that it could only be one person, so she ran on, though Tahlia was soon lost to sight.
* * * * *
The glow-lights, set high in the walls, filled the cloister with a soft radiance, and cast long shadows across the Infirmary garden in its centre. The night breeze coming off the plains caused the shadows to dip and shift, and filled the place with a gentle murmur. The calm of the garden did nothing to still Grifford's anger as he sat hunched in a chair set upon one of its verandas. He scowled into the darkness and focused on the pain that throbbed about his bruised face and body. Doctor Fos had offered him a cup of some bitter smelling liquid, but he had refused it; he did not want the pain taken away as though his wounds had not happened.
Doctor Fos had not insisted. She had simply shrugged, put the cup down, and picked up a cloth from a bowl of some other bitter medicine, then proceeded to clean his bloodied wounds. The pain had been unimaginable; like needles being pushed deep into his skin, but he'd clenched his fists and closed his eyes, determined not to let his agony show.
"Stop fidgeting!" Doctor Fos had snapped.
Grifford had opened his eyes and glared at her.
"Have you done?"
"Soon."
She had then taken a thick white cloth, folded it into a tight square, and pressed it over the wound above his eye. The needle-like pain had returned, and the medicinal smell with it. Doctor Fos had bandaged the cloth tightly in place.
"Now I have done. Go and wait in the gardens and send your friend in."
"He is not my friend," Grifford had replied.
"Send him in anyway."
Grifford had done as he had been asked and now he sat in silence, brooding on the emotive turns that the day had made. First there had been his joy at witnessing Tasker's defeat at the riding-grounds, followed by the strange excitement as he had followed him from the pavilion. Then came the indecision as he had stood in the darkness beneath the stands and watched as Tasker began his merciless beating of the captured Field-hand. His uncertainty had been followed by anger at the unwelcome feeling that made him hesitate, but then the indecisiveness had been replaced with anticipation as he crept up on Gefry's turned back, his fists clenched and ready to strike. Then all other thought had fled him as he grabbed the young squire's shoulder and spun him round before landing the first blow.
The exhilaration of the rescue, and his rage during the fight with Tasker, had gone now, replaced instead with both shame and anger at his defeat. He stared across the Infirmary cloister at the closed door of one of its side rooms, which had scented narcali growing around its window. Unconsciously, he raised his hand to the front of his tunic and pressed his fingers against the smooth curved shape of the demon tooth pendant lying beneath. What would his grandfather have said concerning his actions that evening? Especially given that they had been carried out in the rescue of a common Field-hand.
Buried in his thoughts, he barely noticed the quick footsteps from the corridor leading to the cloister, and only broke from his brooding reverie when Tahlia burst into the garden.
"Grifford!"
He turned his beaten face to her, and saw her eyes widen and her hands fly to her cheeks.
"Look at the state of you!"
"It is not so bad!" said Grifford through thick lips. "Do not make such a fuss."
But he guessed from the look on his sister's face that his injuries must have looked as bad as they felt.
"What happened?" she asked as she scrambled onto a chair across from him.
"I followed your stupid advice. That is what happened!"
"What do you mean?"
"I saw Tasker slipping off during the feast, so I followed him like a fool. He was not doing anything. Only looking to get even with that ruteia of a Field-hand."
"Well you did not have to join in! That was not very clever."
"I had no choice."
Tahlia threw her arms in the air and fell back into the chair. Grifford returned to his silence and went back to staring into the darkness of the garden.
"He will really be after you now," his sister said eventually. "He hated you enough as it was. Now you have doubled his anger."
Grifford chose not to reply and silence fell between them again, broken only by the quiet sighing of the plants in the darkness.
"Oh we have to do something about that boy before he causes you some real trouble. He is a bully and a spite filled ghat!"
There was a noise from the corridor behind them, and a shadow spread across the veranda. Grifford looked up to see his sister's oafish Engineer friend half stagger through the doorway, breathing heavily and holding her side.
"You took your time," said Tahlia as the girl stumbled from the doorway, into the dark gardens, before falling into one of the empty chairs.
"It is a long way to run from there to here," she panted. "And it takes an age to get your boots off when you have had to be running. Where is Maddock?"
"How should I know, Dak!" said Tahlia.
"I'm right here," came a voice from behind them.
Grifford turned to see Maddock step through the doorway. His head was bandaged and his face was swollen and grazed.
"Maddock!" gasped Dak, sitting up. "What has been done to you?"
The Field-hand did not answer. He went to sit in the remaining empty chair, limping on a bandaged foot.
"The doctor said she'd come and get us in a bit," he said to Grifford. "So we can go home."
Grifford simply nodded.
Tahlia made a small indignant snort through her nose, though Grifford could not be bothered to speculate on what had caused her irritation.
Dak stood and went to Maddock, bending down and looking at his injuries, her face full of idiotic wonder.
"Are you all right?" she said.
Maddock looked up at the Engineer girl. He smiled at her, but then he winced, his hand going to his swollen lips.
"Been better," he said.
"So what are we going to do about him?" said Tahlia.
"Do about who?" asked Dak.
"Tasker, of course."
"What do you mean, do about him?" said Maddock.
"I was not talking to you," snapped Tahlia. "I do not think Tasker is any of your business."
"Well he is now," said Grifford, looking pointedly at his sister. Then he looked over at Maddock. "Whether you like it or not."
"I was only doing what I was told. It's not my fault he can't control his beast."
"You did a very fine job," said Dak, with a voice of sickening loyalty.
"I didn't do so much. Master Sprak said it was Tasker let himself down..."
"It does not matter what Sprak said," interrupted Grifford. "As far as Tasker cares, it is you who cost him the competition. He will be after your blood now."
"It is not the spilling of this boy's blood that bothers me," said Tahlia. "It is yours, brother. I told you, we need to find out what he has been up to at the Encampment. We need to watch him."
"It was watching him and sneaking around that got me into this pointless mess."
"But do you not want to know what he is doing creeping around there dressed as a Farm-boy?"
"Right now, I do not care much for anything," said Grifford.
Somewhere out on the plains, a female madriel called sombrely, and was joined by a second, and then a third from far off across the great-bailey. Then there was silence again, apart from the sighing of the breeze through the garden.
"Did you say Farm-boy?" asked Maddock.
"Yes!" snapped Tahlia. "What of it?"
"Well, it's probably none of my business, so maybe I'd best not say."
Tahlia turned on him.
"What are you talking about?"
Maddock stared at Tahlia with a look of belligerence that was almost a match for hers.
"Well?" said Tahlia again. "What do you know?"
Grifford transferred his gaze from Tahlia to Maddock.
It seemed the boy had no energy to spare for trading glares with his sister. He rolled his eyes, sighed, and sat up.
"It was the day Commander Galder's troops came back from the north," he said. Tahlia simply raised an eyebrow. "The day your brother was born, in fact," said Maddock, suddenly remembering. "Late on, it was. We were at the betting tent; the big one on the main path."
"The one with the southern hawkers guarding the door?" asked Tahlia.
"No, the one with the big critter with two heads; Xerekus."
"Oh, that one!" said Tahlia. "That is certainly an impertinent beast; it would not let me go in!"
"No children are allowed in the betting tents," replied Maddock. "So my brothers and me thought it odd when we saw a boy go up to Xerekus and walk right in."
"Who?" said Grifford, sitting up and suddenly paying him close attention.
"Don't know right enough. He were wearing farmer's clothes and a farmer's hat so we couldn't see his face."
"Tasker?" said Tahlia eagerly.
"Don't know. Could have been. He was the same size."
"I bet it was him!"
"You do not know that," said Grifford.
"I bet it was though."
"What would he be doing at the betting tents?" said Dak.
Tahlia rolled her eyes and gave the Engineer girl a withering look.
"Clearly something that he should not be doing, and I think we should find out what it is."
"Why are you not going to your father? That is what I would be doing."
"And say what, Engineer?" growled Grifford. "All we have is the word of a Field-hand who did not even see anything."
The girl blushed a bright red, and looked quickly down at the floor.
Tahlia was frowning in thought.
"For once, you are right," she said. "We have no proof. We will just have to watch him and see if he goes back again. You can help as well, Field-hand."
"I don't fancy another beating," said Maddock. "I'll not go looking for trouble."
"Are you a coward?" said Tahlia, clear scorn in her voice.
"Tahlia!" gasped Dak, before blushing again, and quickly looking back down at the floor.
"The boy is no coward," said Grifford, glancing up to catch Maddock's surprised look. "But you are no fighter either .You will do best to get back to your madriel pens and keep out of his way."
Just then there were footsteps in the passage behind them, and Doctor Fos' long shadow fell across the veranda.
"I see you have company," she said, peering down at them. "Young Tahlia and, ah, Dakskansia, daughter of Engineer Tomova."
Tahlia stood and gave a poised curtsy. Dak stood to attempt a bow and almost knocked her chair over.
"High Lance-master Tzarren is here to escort you back to the fortress," said Doctor Fos to Grifford. "And your sister as well, I expect. He refuses to take those shabby boots of his off so he is waiting outside."
"Why has he come to get us?" asked Tahlia.
"I do not know," replied the doctor. "Maybe you can ask him yourself on your way back. On your feet and off you go!"
Grifford stood and felt the sudden pulse of blood through his split lip, though his legs seemed stable enough.
"You are to come back here in the morning. I want to re-dress those wounds," said Doctor Fos, standing aside for him.
Grifford gave Maddock one, final look.
"Stay out of Tasker's way," he said.
"Can't promise that," the boy replied.
Grifford turned away.
"Goodbye, Dak," he heard Tahlia say behind him.
"Come on, sister," he said, and left the garden.