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. . . .
The routine of a horse farm is much the same everywhere, and I don't suppose it will change no matter who is Comes, prince, chieftain, consul, or even emperor. Horses must be fed and watered, their stables cleaned, and their bodies groomed and ridden, or themselves turned out to exercise in the fields. One falls into the rhythm of a pattern, so that day follows day and only the weather seems to change.
Except that roughly five weeks after we arrived at Deva, and for three days in a row, when I went to collect Spadix and Cornix from their field their coats were rough and sticky with sweat, as if they had been run hard. They had been the only two in their pasture, so they hadn't been competing. And besides, horses don't run themselves that hard, not ever. The second day, I spoke to Canyd about it and he checked both animals over, puzzled by their condition. He then discussed the matter with Teldys, and the head man was as bewildered as we were. The next morning I could not take offense when Teldys accompanied me as I walked the two out to their field. Before he let them loose, he went over them carefully, noting with a nod of his head that I had given them a good brushing off, which was my evening duty.
He also went with me at dusk to bring them in. Once again they showed signs of having sweated heavily.
"As if they had been galloped from here to Deva and back," Teldys said, gathering his heavy eyebrows in a frown.
"Or chased," I said, and looked beyond the hedges that separated the fields.
"A point you have there, lad," Teldys said with a heavy sigh, also casting his eyes around. "We shall set a watch, then, and see if we can catch whoever."
We caught no one at that field; I was the eyes that were set to watch, secretly lodged in a tree bordering the field. But that evening, Splendora hobbled back from her pasture and instantly Canyd was called to see what had caused her lameness. I was grooming Cornix when Canyd called me to the door of the box stall. He said nothing as he opened his hand to show me a bloody thorn in his palm.
"Iswy's here?" I cried. My heart pounded so hard I was sure that it was audible to Canyd.
"A nasty streak that Iswy has in him, and he claiming to be a horseman!" Canyd snorted. "Some of those Cor-novian tribesmen are like that. Take a real delight in avenging themselves for the silliest points of honor."
"But where's he staying?"
"Oh"-and Canyd threw up one hand, dismissing that consideration-"that one can live off the land. He's a dead shot with that sling of his. Or he's mixed in with some of those who roam these parts, picking up what they find whether it's theirs or no. Couple or three times, we've had to patrol the roads from Deva against bands of thieves. Like attracts like, you know." Then Canyd slapped my back in a friendly fashion. "The important thing is that your bay pony was too smart to be caught twice … and saved the stallion, too, I warrant."
"But I saw no one. No one in the field, nor in the roadway!" I cried, lest they think I had fallen asleep or been inattentive in my guarding.
"The mares're fields away from where you were, lad. No fault to you." Canyd patted my shoulder reassuringly.
"But Iswy's out there-" I began, distressed at the Cornovian's vindictiveness. Why should he take so against Cornix? No one else had been able to ride the stallion. Was Iswy that vain of his riding ability? But to avenge himself on a mare simply because I had ridden her now and then? Or was he avenging himself on all of us for his dismissal? Surely he had only been hired to journey with the horses to Deva. Had he expected to be taken on to work here? Or had Prince Cador dismissed him when he had returned? Such thoughts galloped about in my mind, but I spoke none of them aloud.
"We shall take precautions, never you fear, lad. Those animals be too valuable. Teldys will spread the word to watch for a lad of Iswy's description. He'll be sent about his business. You'll see."
"Splendora?" I asked as Canyd turned away.
"She's suffered no lasting harm. You're a good lad. Don't worry."
TELDYS SENT A MESSAGE to Bericus concerning the possibility of a band of marauders in the vicinity of the farm. For the next several weeks, we rode out in groups, exercising the Libyans in the fields nearest the buildings. Otherwise they were stablebound, with the mastiffs and geese let loose in the farmyard to warn of intruders at night. And there were men working in every field, mending the hedgerows or doing other "repair" work. Not a meadow that didn't have some eyes on it every hour of the day.
One night the winds blew such a gale that, in the morning, thick frost rimed bare tree, hedge, and grass. The day was bitterly cold and the footing so treacherous we turned no horse out. Three days the cold snap continued, and we had to break ice from the troughs and from the pond so the horses could drink.
Teldys and Canyd were of the opinion that, with cold winter blowing down over the land, we were unlikely to experience any more unwelcome attentions. I was not so sure: Iswy was sneaky as well as mean. The weather might have defeated him for now, but I intended to keep my eyes and ears open. None of Lord Artos's black Libyans would fall victim to his wickedness: this I swore to myself.
BY THE TIME THAT YEAR ended in the winter solstice and we at the farm had properly observed the birth of Jesus Christ, I learned the hard way that Canyd was the best bone setter as well as horse coper.
Rhodri required me to learn to ride well enough to handle any of the horses on the farm. And because the Libyans knew me, I had to ride them. I dislocated my shoulder twice falling off Splendora, who had healed sound after the thorn incident. Then I snapped the two bones in my left forearm when Spadix stumbled while we were rounding up the mares and foals prior to a storm. So that fall did what the now-absent Iswy had not-kept me off horses.
Canyd set the arm. His hands were as gentle on a human as on a horse, but I could-do little with the splinted arm. Teldys assigned me to Canyd to do what I could, helping him prepare his herbs and simple remedies for equine ailments. Even with one hand, I could strip bark from river willows. And did-for days.
Unfortunately the injury also prevented me from attending mass at Christmastide in Deva. I sorely missed the joy of the Nativity mass, but only Teldys, Daphne, and their sons braved the wintry roads to make the journey. Still we made merry with the feast prepared by all the women on the farm. They had been cooking for days, each trying to outdo the others with soups, pies, and special dishes of quail, goose, and duck. There were also roast kid, roast suckling pig, venison, and vegetables, then all sorts of honey-sweet cakes, as well as all the frumenty we could eat. I enjoyed myself, though some of the older men drank too much mead and were very unwell the next day. I was determined to show my reliability in caring for Cornix, so I did not overindulge. Indeed, Canyd and I were the only ones sober enough to do the horses the next morning.
CANYD USED MY CONVALESCENT TIME TO teach me more about The Hoof. From a shelf in his little cot, he brought down the bones of a horse's leg, with the dried tendons yellow against the dark ivory of the bone. He pointed out the small pastern bone, the navicular, which can easily be chipped enough to lame a horse so badly it has to be put down. The larger pastern bone was in place above them. I could actually move the knee and fetlock of this relic. He had dried out a hoof as well, the flesh carved out so I could see into the coronet band and the horny shell that protects the frog, the inside of it striated with fine vertical lines of hoof horn. The hoof wall was actually no thicker than half the nail of my index finger.
"This is like your own finger- and toenails, Galwyn," Canyd explained, watching me examine the relic. "See here, where there are ridges? Bad year for this horse. See here, where there are cracks? He wasn't getting the right feed to keep his bones strong …"