The Silver Mage - Katharine Kerr [35]
“Those cows?” Rhodorix pointed to them. “What are they doing in here?”
“Oh, they belong to the priests. They’ll be the midwinter sacrifice,” Andariel said, grinning. “We do know the difference between a cow and these new beasts.”
That’s why they’re white, Rhodorix thought. That’s always best for the sacrifices.
Not far from the cows stood the golden warhorse with the silver mane and tail that Rhodorix had seen on his first day at Garangbeltangim.
“Has anyone spoken for that horse?” He gestured at the golden gelding.
“No one’s spoken for any of them,” Andariel said.
“Very well. I’ll take him, then.”
“Um, should each man have a particular horse?”
“He should, truly. And he should be caring for it as well, not leaving it to the servants. It makes a bond, like, twixt horse and rider.”
Andariel looked utterly surprised at the idea.
“How many of your men know how to ride?” Rhodorix said.
“None.” Andariel smiled, a wry twist of his mouth. “We save these beasts when we can, and we have some captured seat-things and some head-strap-things, but riding on their backs—we don’t know what to do or how to climb onto them.”
“I see. Do you know how to feed them? They need grain, not just grass.”
“I’m truly glad you’re here. We didn’t know that, either.”
As they examined the riding stock, Andariel told him more. The People, as they called themselves, lived mostly in the mountains and foothills, where the narrow valley croplands and the terraces cut into the slopes raised barely enough food for themselves. Goats and sheep could graze on mountainsides too steep for terracing. Horses were a luxury better suited to flat ground.
Still, when the Meradan warbands had swept down on them, the People had seen the value of speed. The savages never fought on horseback, but the ability to ride fast from one scrap to another, or to make a quick retreat, had given the Meradan too great an edge in the constant raiding and skirmishing. Rhodorix and Gerontos had arrived like one of Evandar’s best gifts.
With Andariel’s help, Rhodorix chose forty guardsmen to learn riding and some of the menservants in the fortress to help tend the horses, then returned to his chamber to see if Gerontos had need of him. Rhodorix found his brother sitting on the edge of the bed and contemplating a wooden crutch while Hwilli stood nearby, watching him. When Rhodorix walked in, she grabbed the white crystal out of the basket.
“I wish you’d leave them here,” she snapped.
“My apologies, but I had to talk with the captain,” Rhodorix said into the black. “Here, Gerro, I hope that leg is going to heal up fast. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. For starters, these people don’t even know how to build a stall, and if they did, they wouldn’t know how to rake it out.”
“I hope I’ll be up and around soon.” Gerontos looked at Hwilli. Rhodorix repeated the question through the crystal.
“He’s doing well,” Hwilli said, “but I don’t want him walking very far.”
“Out to the courtyard?” Gerontos said.
She shook her head. “Too far. In a few days, maybe.”
“When can I ride again?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anyone ride a horse, so I don’t know how difficult it is.” Hwilli paused, thinking. “Well, you’ll have to get well enough to walk first. We’ll decide about the riding later.”
“It’s probably too soon to start training with the actual horses, anyway.” Rhodorix perched on the end of the bed. “I told some servants how to build a couple of wooden horses. We’ll put them out in the courtyard so the men can learn to vault and mount.”
“It’s always best to start at the beginning.” Gerontos grinned at him. “That’ll keep them busy until I can walk.”
Coming as he did from a warlike and honor-bound people, Rhodorix had seen plenty of broken limbs in his short life, but he’d never seen one as painless as his brother’s leg seemed to be. The cast did bother Gerro’s skin, however, especially in the warm afternoons, when he complained of the way it itched. Hwilli came in