BLACK Horses for the KING ANNE MCCAFFREY. Part four

If the would-be horse thief was Iswy, I doubted that-for the Cornovian was as clever as he was sly. We’d not been able to catch him at Deva for all the watching we’d done.

“What did the man look like? Did anyone see his face?”

Geneir beckoned his hostler, who was still red faced and puffing with indignation over the affair. “Did you get a good look at his face?”

“Aye, and a nasty look he had; raging, he was, at being thwarted.”

“Was he bearded?” I asked.

The hostler nodded. “Raggedy-like. Tall as yourself, but skinny. Used to horses, though, the way he vaulted up, bareback and all.”

“D’you know him, Galwyn?” asked Geneir.

Grimly I nodded, unable to speak for the fury that almost consumed me. First Spadix and Cornix, then Splendora, and now Ravus. So Iswy had been at Camelot, and he had doubtless been the rider I had seen behind me on the road. Quite likely, he was also the intruder who had kept the dogs barking in his attempt to get at Ravus in the stable.

“It’s appalling that a messenger of the Comes should be hindered or attacked for any reason.” Then a thought occurred to Geneir. “A Saxon spy?”

“I doubt it,” I said, and then hesitated. A man who would deliberately cause harm to the horses he was supposed to value might grasp at other opportunities to do harm to those he hated. I couldn’t at all be sure that he did not include Lord Artos in the category, but in my estimation Iswy was evil enough to turn treacherous, too. “No, I doubt he would have the opportunity, but he believes himself ill used in the service of Lord Artos,” I said.

Geneir was clearly waiting for more of an explanation.

“He tried to injure one of new Libyan stallions on our way to Deva and was sent off without a character. I believe he was guilty of other attempts to harm the Libyans.”

“Ah, a vindictive type, is he?” Geneir touched his temple, nodding with complete understanding. “Never fear, Galwyn. We’ll find him, and he won’t bother you anymore.”

“While your guards are after him, I should be on my way,” I said with true regret and some honesty. “I am in Lord Artos’s service, and there is another stop I should make to see if there are messages to be carried to Deva.” Not true, but Prince Geneir accepted it.

I would have a good start on Iswy even if the Glevum guards did not catch him. And I’d travel by less well used roads so that no one would see me passing.

That is how I made it safely-and speedily-back to the farm at Deva.

I told Teldys of the incidents, and any time the dogs barked at night or the geese honked, someone went out to investigate.

More than a week later, Prince Geneir sent a regretful message that, despite the most diligent of searches, the culprit had not been caught. However, he had been traveling west and south when last sighted. When next Bericus came, unscathed from his latest skirmish with the Irish raiders, I reported Iswy’s activities to him as well.

“I don’t see Iswy as a spy either,” Bericus said, “but I shall certainly warn Prince Cador and Artos to keep an eye out for him.”

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