Black Horses for the King
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Black Horses for the King». Краткое содержание книги:
After his father's death, young Galwyn Varianus is apprenticed to his uncle, who puts the boy to work on the high seas. But horses, not ships, are Galwyn's passion. Luckily, a passenger aboard, Lord Artos (later to rule as the legendary King Arthur), is bound for the great horse fair at Septimania. Risking his life, Galwyn abandons his uncle to serve the gallant leader. Galywn's calming way with horses quickly impresses Lord Artos and his men. But what no one expects is how crucial Galwyn will be to their upcoming battles--as he masters the secrets of the iron shoes that will protect the exotic horses' delicate hooves. . . .
Occasionally another rider would pass close enough to the cart to hear these lessons, and he'd roll his eyes sympathetically. But I did not for a moment consider Canyd Bawn's words boring.
That first evening, Canyd drew sketches in the dirt near the firelight, delineating the bones and tendons of a horse's leg.
"That's all they is, bone and tendon. For all it's the most important part of a horse, there's little flesh. Lose the foot and you've lost the horse."
I grinned at his repetition. He had a variety of phrases expressing the same truism. But I was also impressed by the masterful way his knifepoint depicted each separate part of the whole.
"When we get to the farm, I can show you. I've saved a leg and a hoof to illustrate what I mean." And now he laid a finger alongside his nose. "Like I thought, big horses like them 'uns are going to need special care. For their hooves. No hoof, no horse."
I grinned again but said I looked forward to seeing a leg and a hoof-though I didn't then realize what he meant.
We would all be glad to reach the end of this journey, for the weather had turned raw, with sleet showers more frequent, as well as frost liming the grass in the mornings.
Then, coming out of a fold of the hills, we could see the road running straight to the walled city of Deva.
"About a thousand souls or so," Bericus replied when I asked him how many lived there. I caught my breath at the thought of so many people living in one place, fortified against raiders as it was. "But we go east, to the farm"-and he pointed with his riding stick. "No need to go into the city at all."
I was disappointed not to have a chance to wander through a place of that size. I knew it had been a legionary fortress and its stout walls had been repaired many times.
"Don't worry, lad, you'll have a chance to see the city later," Bericus said to console my obvious chagrin. "If only to hear mass."
The Devan group among us now stretched their mounts' stride in an effort to reach home by darkness. Spadix could trot with the best of them, and all the Libyans seemed infected by the excitement of their riders.
WE ARRIVED AS DUSK was settling, but we had been seen on our approach through the lush pastures where cattle, ponies, and horses grazed. The geese who were penned during the day by the main gate honked and flapped their wings, telling all who hadn't heard that there were visitors. Mylather had also used those birds as nightly watchguards: I had scars on the calves of my legs to prove their diligence. Here there were also three big mastiffs, chained to the wall by day. These were let loose at night but knew who should and should not be about the enclosure at odd hours.
I was surprised by the extent of the farm, for the main buildings, like the city, were stoutly walled against intruders. But then an establishment of its prestige would have to be secure from all but the most insistent attacks. Inside the thick walls there were many buildings, including a long low range of stables and barns, as well as cots for the farmworkers. The villa that would house Comes Artos on his visits was extensive, and it was several weeks before there was any occasion for me to enter it. On those rare occasions when I did enter, it reminded me too much of the home I had lost. My uncle had taught me well the humility required by my reduced state, and I would never forget those lessons.
THERE WERE HAPPY REUNIONS for the Devan riders, much time spent examining the fine Libyans by torchlight and lantern. I thought I was seeing double, for a man as like Canyd Bawn as two leaves of the same tree-save for having two sound shoulders-was weaving in and out, stroking each of the Libyans in turn, as if introducing himself to them. Having done so, he gave orders that the horses must be immediately settled. Then there would be time enough to exchange news and have the evening meal, which our coming had interrupted.
"Is he kin to you?" I had the chance to ask Canyd as I led Cornix and Spadix into the great barn.
"Own brother," Canyd said, his tone hovering between pride and irritation. "Rliodri. He trains the horses, while I keep them sound for him to do so."
I remembered then that Lord Artos had spoken of this Rhodri.
Cornix and the other three stallions were housed in their own barn, with the three pony stallions already standing at the stud.
"The stalls are big enough, lad," Canyd said, waving me to lead both stallion and pony inside. "Take whichever one on the left is free."
I had no sooner swatted Spadix on the rump to enter the stable-for where the pony led, the stallion would easily follow-then I heard a shout.
"What are you doing, idiot?" A dour-faced man rushed down the aisle toward me, brandishing his pronged wooden hay fork. "Such a spavined, ring-boned, misbegotten-"
"Not so fast, Teldys," Canyd said from the entrance. "Unless of course you want this fine new stall in splinters."
Teldys grounded his hay fork with a thump, looking from me to Cornix, who was now trying to pull free to join the pony in the stable.
"Ah! Like that, is it? And this is that so-special stallion Lord Artos bade me take extra care of?" His eyes wandered appraisingly over the black Libyan. "Well, I suppose we can see our way clear. Good job we made it larger'n usual. In you go with him, lad … What'dyou say your name was?"
"He's Galwyn, pledged to be Artos's man," Canyd replied before I could open my mouth.
"Is he good enough for this black demon," Teldys asked, "since he and his pony know the beast so well?"
"Aye. You don't have to watch him to be sure he does what you tell him," Canyd said, nodding his head approvingly. "But see for yourself. Don't take my word for it."
"As if I'd ever argue with you, you old coper." And a smile lit the man's solemn features.
I came to learn that Teldys, who was Lord Artos's stallion man, actually had a merry temperament; it was just that the bones of his face were long and the flesh on them seemed to be pulled down to his jawline, giving him such a dour look. He had a quick infectious laugh that you couldn't help grinning at. And he listened. An admirable quality in anyone, as I discovered. I was quick to notice that no one argued with him and every one of the men moved hastily to perform the duties he assigned them.
"So, Galwyn, bed your charges down for the night, now we've finally got us all home where we belong." Canyd winked at me before he turned away to settle Paphin.
When all the horses had been properly bedded, we were taken into the farm kitchen and fed an excellent hot stew with fresh bread, which, I must say, I had missed on the road. And there were pears as well as apples to eat. Not much fresh fruit had come my way since my father had died.
I didn't mind that I was assigned a cot with the other unmarried men of the farm, and a peg for my scant clothing. The bedstead had a pallet of fresh straw and a good woolen blanket, and I could have slept anywhere that night and not heard the snores around me.
Thus began my service on Lord Artos's farm near Deva.
Part Three
THOSE FIRST FEW WEEKS I COULDN'T HAVE been happier in my new home. Though I was a stranger and this a closeknit group, I felt far more comfortable than I ever had on the Corellia. There were, of course, horses to talk about, and at our evening meal that first night Teldys wanted to hear all about our journey to Sep-timania and the horse fair. He seemed determined to draw every last word of description out of me: of the fair itself, the people and horses at it-every variety, including the black Libyans that Lord Artos had settled on as the proper steed. Teldys's wife, Daphne, wanted to know more about the outlandish things we had been given to eat. I talked myself hoarse and then realized that I had, and desperately hoped I hadn't made a bad impression on my very first day. But almost everyone had questions and certainly they listened without fidgeting. On our way to our quarters, I was teased, but not in a mean fashion-more as if they envied me the sights and marvels I had seen.