Rodney ap Tyron hated his father and mother, had a permanent dislike of his four brothers and absolutely abhorred his grandparents. Which was a shame as he had a rare and debilitating psycho-neurological ailment that meant he found it impossible to leave the family estate. The only way in which he could tolerate his existence was to spend as much time as possible as far away from the main house and other points of habitation. This was fine in good weather but when it poured, or snowed, or baked hot with a ferocity he usually served for his total disgust at his family’s machinations, he was desperate for somewhere to shelter. He’d stand under the overhanging branches of an ancient oak, staring at the lit windows and scowl, wishing nothing but ill on those who shared his genes and yet made his life hell.

Continue reading at Tangental