So, this one goes to MissBookNut, for all her recent reads and comments, despite the crowded nature of her Reading Lists.If you haven't done so already, check out her work; Constantine: Daughter of war. Her characters have a certain depth to them, which makes them truly arresting. My favourite aspect so far has to be the emotionally complex relationship that Constantine shares with her father. 

And it's a story with a twist in the end. See if you can figure out what it is.

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Dak followed Maddock back round the square, and the two of them carefully skirted the four madriel that were dozing beneath the shade of the cherossa tree. The largest of them, lying in the deepest shade, was Sacsensa, Pride-commander Galder's steed. Dak had seen him many times before, when her father had been fitting him for his armour. As she passed, she again noted the scary scimitar-like curve of his horns and the paleness of his hide, with its network of old scars. The riding saddle that crowned his back was a fine piece of work, constructed by Engineer Brovich. It was made of the best karabok hide and decorated with precious scarab thread, though she noted that it was coated in the dust of travel.

The other large male, which must have been Sir Nathalle's steed, was younger, its hide still with its deep gloss, the pattern so symmetrical as to be near perfect. The other two were younger still, and had laid themselves furthest from the cherossa's trunk.

As she and Maddock rounded the tree, two boys, dressed in squire's livery of Vikas burgundy, crossed the square in front of them. One of the boys, thick set and wearing a sour expression, slowed when he saw them, changed direction, and with a casual deliberateness, barged his weight into Maddock's shoulder, causing him to stumble in a half circle.

"Watch where you are going, borak dung!" the boy spat over his shoulder.

The other squire sniggered.

Dak saw Maddock scowl, but the squires ignored him and continued on their way.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"Commander Galder's new squire," replied Maddock, flexing his shoulder. "Tasker."

He spat on the floor and then turned away, giving her no further comment. Dak, seeing her friend's angry features, had no wish to pry.

"Let's go see the hamabirds," he said.

As they passed Commander Galder and the farm's Superintendent, they were discussing jepsil roots. The sound of the superintendent's ineffectual objections grew quieter as they climbed the narrow lane next to the tavern, which curved uphill between the dwelling houses. The houses were simply built, with a stone lower floor that burrowed into the hillside, and a wooden upper. They were sparsely made and had no adornment or outward sign of prosperity, no ostentatious decoration of metalwork on the doors or curtains in the windows. Still, they had been built by Engineers, and Dak was happy to see that no quality had been spared in their construction.

The lane wound its way up the slope above the oast houses. Maddock climbed quickly, so by the time they reached the first bridge that crossed over the northern water stair, Dak was already puffing with the exertion of the climb. She leant on the bridge's parapet with both hands and stared down into the stone faced trench below the bridge, so that she could catch her breath. As she watched the square wooden buckets pass beneath her, with their cargo of water from the orchard, she wished she could be carried up the slope so easily.

Instead, she had to rely on her legs, and so she carried on, Maddock climbing effortlessly ahead of her. By the time the land levelled out, they had crossed the water stair three more times before its straight channel ended above the irrigation pool at the top of the slope. The constant splashing of water as the buckets tipped and emptied their contents gave Dak a wild thirst.

Maddock was waiting for her, leaning on the pool's low wall.

"I am having less labour in the forge," said Dak when she finally reached him.

"You should get out from that place more. Out in the air, y'know."

"Yes," said Dak as she drew in deep breaths and looked about herself.

"Come on," said Maddock, jumping down from the wall.

Past the irrigation pool, the lane forked east and west, passing through the narrow strip of fields that edged the valley. A short way along the eastern lane they came to the hamabird pen, made of fresh cut wood built around an area that was probably too rocky to cultivate anything useful. Standing by the fence nearby was an old farmer. She had the same strong wiry frame as the other people of the farm, and skin grown dark and stiff like bark from long days of labouring under the plain's scorching sun, but her back was stooped. She stood, resting her arms heavily on the new fence where her walking stick was leaning.

"Hello, young Maddock," she said when she saw them. "And your little Engineer friend. Ain't seen you in a while."

"Hello Sadi," said Maddock as he climbed onto the fence to look over its top at the hamabirds.

Sadi took up her stick and limped over to him.

"I've been given the duty of looking after 'em. Feldor says to me 'You're good with birds, Sadi,' he says. 'See what the new hamabirds will need to be fed on.'"

Dak looked over the fence at the new flock. They were very odd looking creatures; as tall as her waist, with large lumpen bodies covered in a thick down of grey feathers, and disproportionately small wings. They had big feet, and oddest of all, was the large beak for which they had been named, because it was strangely round and bulbous. They were scattered around the pen, scratching at the earth with their feet with a confused comical air.

From her position at the fence, Sadi regarded the birds with her wrinkle crested eyes before spitting onto the dusty earth.

"Bought 'em on their last trip to Trehlsvale. Merchant there says they make good eating and lay eggs the size of your hand. 'From the land south of Naddaran,' he says. 'The Admiral used to eat 'em back in his day,' he says. Different country down there, though. Different eating for 'em"

"What do they eat?" asked Maddock.

"Terra only knows. Maybe we should ask her. Away to her shrine and pray for the answer, that's what we needs do. Foul things can't eat grain. Look at them beaks. Good for nothing but hammering nails."

"They haven't eaten anything!"

"Oh they've eaten all right. Watch. Hand us that sack"

Dak took hold of the large sack that Sadi was pointing at and dragged it over.

"Lift it up, child. I can't bend like what I used to."

Dak lifted it easily, and Sadi pulled a thick sheaf of green leaves out of it. At the sight of them, the hamabirds lifted their heads and began letting out a strange croaking chirp. They ran, their small wings flapping and their heads jerking, over to the fence where Sadi held out the leaves.

"Maylard shoots," she explained. "Animals can't get enough of 'em."

The first bird that reached the fence grabbed the shoots in its strange beak and pulled savagely, ripping the soft leaves from the tougher stalks. It used its thick tongue to pull the leaves into its beak.

"So what is the problem?" asked Dak.

"The problem is they don't stop eating 'em. We get good coin for maylard shoots and these ugly fiends'd eat a whole field given a chance, and for what? Creatures haven't even laid a single egg yet. Best just eat 'em now before they wreck our whole maylard profit." She gave the birds a long scowl and spat on the floor again. "Feldor's a fool."

Dak and Maddock watched the hamabirds for a while, occasionally feeding them handfuls of maylard shoots, while Sadi continued to grumble about the uselessness of the birds and the foolishness of the farm's superintendent.

Despite their obviously comical appearance, the birds were not quite as interesting as Dak had expected. Maddock also seemed similarly unimpressed by them, so after a while they made their farewells to the still grumbling Sadi. Dak followed Maddock as he pushed his way through the maylard crop, along the course of an irrigation ditch, and they soon came out onto the plains.

Nearby stood two of the farm's tall watchtowers, the wooden platforms high on their spindly legs seemingly empty. Mid-way between the towers was a stone ringed fire pit, the earth inside black and hardened.

Maddock walked a few metres into the long grass.

"We could go up there," he said, pointing to a sharp ridge of hill a little way to the north that jutted out from the planes, with a long shallow slope leading up to its narrow summit. At its peak was the ruin of one of Klinberg's old signal towers.

"I am not sure, Maddock," said Dak, still standing in the shadow of the maylard field. "Father says that it is dangerous on the plains."

"All that's out there is the karabok herds," said Maddock, waving casually with his hand. "And tragasaur, of course, but they ain't dangerous and they're big enough to spot from a kilometre away."

Dak looked doubtfully out at the distant hill. She had accompanied her mother to Trehlsvale a few times, but that had been on the well-travelled road and from the safety of a juddra. She had never been alone on the open planes before and found their vast emptiness unsettling.

"What about things from the west?" she asked. "Herredna and khlith and the like? Father says..."

Maddock threw his arms up in exasperation.

"Ah come on Dak! Are you going to listen to your father for the rest of your life?"

"Until the day he dies," said Dak gravely.

Maddock's face looked suddenly troubled and his arms fell back to his sides. Dak turned quickly away to look back towards the farm.

"Sorry, Dak. I only meant... I mean, I know, with your mother dying and all, well..."

"It is all right," said Dak, turning back to see the unhappy look on Maddock's face. She did not want to upset him further. "Really. It is all right."

"We can go back if you want. We'll go see the borak pit. I haven't been for ages, and I promised Yohef I'd look in on them regular."

"No, this is all right," said Dak, but she still made no move away from the field.

"Tell you what," said Maddock, pushing his way back through the grass towards her. "We'll walk along the field. Just as far as the bridge, then we can come back down the other side."

"That would be a nice walk," said Dak, and she smiled at her friend.

So they followed the field's edge, and Maddock stopped after a while to dig into the ground at the roots of a patch of green brazen grass. With some effort, he pulled out one of its thick green tubular roots and bit the end off. He spat out soil and tipped the root to his mouth. Then he handed it to Dak, who looked at it suspiciously.

"Won't kill you, Dak."

Dak took a cautious sip of the liquid held inside the root.

"That is quite amazing!" she said when she had emptied it.

"It's only water," said Maddock.

"No, I mean how you acquired it, not the water itself. Father has shown me how Engineers get water. It involves a lot of pipes and valves and pumps and the like, but here you just dig into the ground and there it is. Amazing!"

"It's only water," said Maddock again.

Dak made a sweeping gesture with the brazen grass tuber, indicating the rolling plains around them.

"It is looking nice out here though, I must be admitting. Maybe there are fewer walls and more sky than I am used to, but I am sure that you will be missing this place. Are you not enjoying life here?"

"I used to."

"Why so not now?"

"You know why. You saw Sir Galder back there."

"But, Maddock, the tithe must be paid," said Dak. "It is how things work."

"The Engineers don't pay any tithe."

"Of course we do not! We are Engineers."

"But it isn't fair. No matter how much we work we never have enough, while the Order takes half our stuff and never work a day."

"I still do not understand why you want to be a knight when you are hating them so much," said Dak.

Maddock was silent for a moment.

"You'll think it's stupid."

"I have never thought that anything that you have ever told me before is stupid."

Maddock looked at her, studying her face closely. Then his frown cleared.

"If I'm a knight I can enter the tourney, and I can challenge Sir Galder for the farm. Then my brothers wouldn't have to go to be soldiers, and I could tell the Order where it can stick its tithe."

Dak felt her cheeks flush suddenly red.

"Maddock, you cannot be saying things like that!"

"Yes I can. I can do it too!" said Maddock defensively. "I'll learn to ride a madriel better than any knight in the fortress, and you'll make me armour won't you? Like you said?"

"I have indeed said that I will, but even with that and a madriel that you are well able to ride, and a sword that it is possible for you to fight with, it will not be making you a knight, which is something you have to be born to."

"Ah, you're no help!"

"Well it is a very practical point to be considering."

"I'll find a way."

"And knights can read and write, and they have had lessons in heraldry and history and other such things of importance."

"Oh Dak, shut up!"

"And manners and politeness, which is something that you could well be doing with."

"Dak!"

"I am merely pointing out the obstacles that you will be facing. I am only trying to be of help."

"Okay," sighed Maddock. "Sorry."

Maddock turned away from her and looked out across the yellow grass that rolled away to the distant horizon, his face dark and brooding.

"I do not wish to be discouraging you, Maddock," said Dak. "But have you considered what you will be doing after?"

"What do you mean, after?"

"After you have become a knight and won the farm of Dredar. I mean, what will you be doing with yourself after that?"

Maddock shrugged.

"Don't know. Not really thought. Probably just ride off somewhere and see a bit of things. Help people like knights used to."

Dak smiled, but then frowned deeply.

"It must be good to be having such dreams."

They were nearing the end of the fields, and the noise of the falls that tumbled down the valley's head was growing louder.

"Don't you have hopes of what you want to be?" asked Maddock. "Don't you want to go and see places?"

"I have never been far from home. Mother was going to take me on a journey from Trehlsvale this year. We were to take a rail-steamer, maybe as far as the Mines of Kassagrad. I was not looking forward to it."

"You weren't?"

"No. I will have to make a long journey that way in some years when I do my tour, but the world sounds to me like a dangerous place. I will be happy to be staying here and become an armourer like my father, or maybe some other thing. My teachers tell me that I have many skills, but I do not know what I will be choosing to do."

They rounded the last field of maylard, and before them the land fell to a tumble of rocks that marked the edge of the falls and the beginning of the valley. Before it reached the falls, the river ran straight as a lance from the east before its smooth waters were broken, first by the piers of the stone bridge that spanned it, and then by the falls themselves.

"When I'm a knight, I'll be able to do anything I like," said Maddock.

"Anything within reason, I am thinking."

"Well, of course, but I'll tell you one thing. Whatever I do, and wherever I go, and whoever I meet, I won't be like those that live in the fortress. I won't take what's not mine and talk to people like I own them. I'll treat people fair."

As they stood together at the head of the valley, looking down at the farm that Maddock hoped one day to reclaim, Dak could not help but smile at her friend. She had always known his character to be generous, and now she could see his optimism for the future etched in his features. Looking at his face made her sad because her friend's hopes were so obviously improbable.

She would hate to be around when they fell apart.