"Why couldn't I speak?" I demanded of Canyd. "He'll think it was my fault."

"Bericus won't. He knows ponies. He can also figger things out hisself, you know." And Canyd chuckled.

"How would he know it was Iswy did this?"

"How do you?" Canyd asked, his eyebrows reaching up his forehead into his thick white hair.

"I heard him. In the woods, asking Bericus to ride Cornix. But Bericus refused him. I heard Iswy cursing and promising that he'd get to ride the stallion one way or another. So he has lamed Spadix on purpose, so I can't lead Cornix. And no one can lead him from a mare. Nor the other stallions. Not Cornix."

"Aye, lad, you've the answer."

"And what about Spadix?" A sudden fear coursed through me. I almost wailed as I said, "We can't leave him behind."

"True."

"It'll be days before Spadix can walk! And Bericus won't wait on a pony!" I had never been so afraid for another living creature, not even during the roughest days crossing the Narrow Sea, when I had worried so about the foals.

"Now, lad"-and Canyd took my hand in a firm grip of gnarled fingers, waving the index finger of his other hand in my face-"how do you know what a great lord like Bericus will or will not do?" He straightened up. "There, an' I've never knowed the bran to fail me."

By the time Canyd and I had returned to the fire, Bericus had come to a decision.

"How long before the pony'll be sound, Canyd?" he asked.

"Two, three days. Ponies is tough."

Bericus sighed again. "Much as I hate to leave you, lad, we've got to move on today," he said, and I nodded, feeling a numbness; but I really did understand. "We'll leave you provisions and you can follow at your own pace. It's a good road all the way to Glevum from here. And you're sure to catch up with us before Bravonium, or by Virconium at the very latest." He put one hand on my shoulder and gave me an encouraging shake. "We must make good time while we have the weather."

"I understand, Lord Bericus."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Iswy's smug expression, and I drew in a deep breath to steady myself against the hatred I felt for him.

And so I had to watch as the camp was cleared, packs secured to the ponies, the mares and stallions bridled or haltered. I stood holding Spadix's lead rope. I tried not to look in Iswy's direction, not to see the triumph on his face when he was given the stallion to ride.

But it was Bericus himself who stood at the stallion's side for a leg up.

I held my breath, for although I knew that the Companion was a very good horseman, he was not the master that Comes Artos was. The stallion jibed under him, bucking in place at the unaccustomed weight on his back, snorting and arching his neck, trying to pull against the reins. Finally he moved out, still snorting and sidling. I really shouldn't have taken note of the apprehension on Bericus's face. Nor noticed the way Bericus tucked his long legs as tightly to the stallion's sides as he could. I think that was part of the trouble; the rider was saying "go" when he meant "no."

They had no sooner got to the head of the column than Cornix squealed, got his head down, and bucked. Three mighty heaves of his big frame, and Bericus was sprawled on the ground.

Someone t.i.ttered. Both Canyd and I looked in Iswy's direction but he had his head turned away.

Cornix did not run off, as everyone seemed to have expected; for immediately they had spread out to catch him. He trotted back the way he had just come, ears p.r.i.c.ked, and then stopped to stretch his neck toward Spa-dix, beside me. He whuffled as if asking why Spadix was not moving out. I quietly caught the trailing reins.

Bericus was shaken by his fall; dusty but not hurt. There was a rueful expression on his face as he brushed himself off and came back for the stallion.

"Iswy!" he called, taking the stallion's reins from my hand, and I shivered with the unfairness by which Iswy had got the ride. "Let's see if you can stay astride. Unless anyone else wants to try?" And he grinned as he glanced about the circle of men.

"He won't stay up either," Canyd said in a low voice meant only for my hearing.

"He won't?"

Canyd chuckled and folded his arms across his chest. "Watch."

Boldly, and with a very smug smile on his face, Iswy ignored the helpful hand Bericus held out and, gathering the reins in one hand, vaulted neatly to the stallion's back. The stallion flicked his fine ears and shifted his feet, but he stood there. I groaned softly, disappointed in Cornix's loyalties. Decius brought up Bericus's customary mount and gave the Companion a leg up. I heard what could only have been a sigh of relief from the man, and then he gave the order to move out.

Iswy guided Cornix in behind Bericus's horse. As he did so, he shot a self-satisfied glance over his shoulder at me, standing by my poor lame pony.

He got no more than a few lengths from us when Cornix abruptly twisted, dropped his shoulder, and sent Iswy plowing his length in the dust. Canyd contented himself with a snort but I had to turn away so Iswy couldn't see the breadth of my smile.

The look on the Cornovian's face as he sprang up from the roadway was vicious. As he followed the stallion back to Spadix, I saw his hand go briefly to the slingshot looped over his belt.

"Easy now, lad," Canyd said to him in an urgent low tone, for Iswy had tried to grab the stallion's reins in a vindictive manner.

But Cornix could take care of himself, and he moved sideways-just as Iswy lunged for his reins a second time. Swift as a serpent, Iswy put his hand on a f.a.ggot of wood left for me by the fire, and he brandished it at the stallion, who merely flung up his head and backed.

Bericus caught the upheld wood from Iswy's hand and then flung it far away.

"If I ever see you ..." Bericus's face tightened with anger. "Take the sack by Galwyn's feet and get on your way. You are dismissed from service."

"But-but-" Iswy protested, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his face up and dropping to one knee.

Canyd reached down for the sack and tossed it deftly to Iswy's bent figure.

Bericus swung his right leg over his stallion's back, dropping to the ground in a fluid movement. Grabbing Iswy up from the dust, he pushed the sack into his hands and spun him about, shoving him off in the direction we had come.

We all watched silently as Iswy, head bowed in dejection, walked slowly down the road. Once he turned, hand raised toward Bericus, hoping for a last-minute reprieve; but even Decius and Egdyl regarded him with hostility.

When the small figure had reached the roadway and disappeared from view, Bericus turned to the others.

"Set up the camp again," he said, heaving a gusty sigh.

I felt worse than ever and hung my head, but Canyd gave me a shake.

" 'Tis not you, lad, but that black devil who's called the turn of the die. I've seen it afore with highstrung animals." And he walked away, shaking his head at such whimsical behavior.

WE CHANGED THE POULTICE twice that day in the hopes of extracting the poisonous humors from Spadix's leg. I brought him the best gra.s.s I could find, and some clover for Cornix, which he liked especially. When no one was looking or in hearing distance, I stroked the stallion's neck and told him what a very clever, loyal friend he was.

Midafternoon, Bwlch burst back into camp, just ahead of a farmer and a heavy two-wheeled cart drawn by two stout ponies.

"We've only to get the pony into the cart-he'll fit, I know!" Bwlch exclaimed, his face flushed with delight in his solution. "And the farmer has agreed to take us down the road until Spadix can walk out himself."

The farmer seemed overwhelmed by all the excitement, open mouthed, digging the toes of his worn sandals into the dust. But when it came time to bargain for his services and the use of his cart and the ponies to draw it, he miraculously recovered his wits.

"For all I've to do at m'farm, an' none but me to do it, good lord..."

Bericus attempted not to look so pleased at this encouraging answer, and the bargaining lasted a long time, with me holding my breath for fear that the farmer would be too greedy, and for fear that any price would cost Comes Artos more than my pony was worth, even if Cornix would not move out of his company. Then hand smacked hand and the deal was concluded.

Fortunately the back of the cart could be removed and now formed a ramp, which Spadix gamely hobbled up in response to my ardent encouragement. He then looked around from his vantage point, hi mild surprise to find himself on a level with the bigger horses. I had to perch on an uncomfortable corner of the cart, but Cornix led like a lamb, just as long as Spadix was nearby. We proceeded in this fashion for three days, until the swelling had subsided and Spadix was able to put his foot to the ground.

I don't know who was happier to see the last of the farmer and his heavy cart: myself, Bericus, or Spadix.

THE BEST PART OF those three days was Canyd's company, for the old hostler decided to ride with me. I believed I'd asked a simple question, like why Spadix's leg had swollen only to the knee, and I was suddenly being taught the construction of the leg and the hoof.

"Without a hoof, you've no horse, lad."

There was no longer any doubt in my mind that Lord Artos had been quoting old Canyd that night on the way to Burtigala.

"Care for then- feet," he went on, "an' ease the tiredness of their legs, an' you've a horse to carry you. 'Tis the foot that carries the pony an' you."

I got interested, as much because it was a way of pa.s.sing the slow hours of our marching as because I found that I wanted to know more. Old SolvLn had said that horses would teach you something new every day of your life and you'd never get to know all there was to learn of them. If any came close to such total knowledge, it was surely Canyd.

Occasionally another rider would pa.s.s 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 repet.i.tion. 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 ill.u.s.trate 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 gra.s.s 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 ma.s.s."

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 p.r.o.nged 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 a.s.signed 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 a.s.signed 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

DEVA.

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 hoa.r.s.e 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.

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.