BLACK Horses for the KING ANNE MCCAFFREY. Part four

He was ready to be civil now. “I’m Eoain Albigensis,” he said, giving his formal name, and we clasped each other’s forearms in the fashion of friends. “Are all the Libyans as grandly big as these?”

“Only the best would do Lord Artos,” I said, trying to sound more matter-of-fact than pompous. “And the mares are every bit as fine as the stallions. You should see this year’s foals. Fifteen were born in February, and every one sturdy. Cornix, here”-and the animal whuffled, pricking his ears forward at the sound of his name-“did his duty by every mare he covered. All of the fifty proven in foal.”

“Fifty?” Eoain’s eyes bulged at such a prodigious number.

“Well, we have to mount all the Companions on animals as good as these, don’t we?”

He nodded his head, eyes still wide. “And you’ve to make sandals for ’em all?”

I laughed. “I won’t be the only one, I assure you.”

I was just about to ask him if there was a Cornovian named Iswy working in the stables when the slender young lad Lord Artos had called Arlo appeared in the stableyard, breathless from the speed of his run.

“Eoain, Lord Artos and his Companions will ride out on the Libyans to hunt after mass.” Then he noticed me. “You’re Galwyn?” he asked, not quite disrespectful, more uncertain. When I nodded, he added, “Because Lord Artos wishes you to wait upon Ilfor the smith after mass. About those horse sandals.” Then he pivoted on one heel and raced back the way he had come. Arlo, it seemed, rarely walked anywhere.

“You have a chapel here?” I asked Eoain.

What with my broken arm and then all the work on the sandals with Alun and Canyd, I had not had the opportunity to get to mass at Deva as I had resolved to in the New Year. At the farm, one of the priests-usually an old one who better understood the peculiar attitude toward religion where most of the inhabitants were inclined toward a familiar semipaganism-made the trip to baptize infants or preside at a burial when needed. But they did not hold services. I was, therefore, almost hungry to attend a proper mass in a real church.

“Of course,” Eoain said, obviously surprised that I would ask. He pointed to a high slate roof that could be seen from the stableyard, at the other side of the great hall. “Mass will be said shortly, so you’d better hurry.”

“But if I’m to go to Master Ilfor-”

“You’d best go to mass first, Galwyn,” he said firmly. “Master Glebus does and I will. Lord Artos and his Companions do.”

My indecision lasted no longer than his final sentence. So that morning, and every morning thereafter of my stay at Camelot, I stood with the throng of worshipers in a church that was as perfect for Camelot as everything else about Lord Artos’s castle. The church faced east and west, with high slit windows letting in a morning light that bathed the whitened walls in glorious shades of lemon yellow and pure white.

It was a joy to me to chant the responses, letting my heart savor the beautiful words. For one brief instant as the mass started, I thought I had forgotten the prayers, but then my tongue worked before my mind and the words came from the heart that had not forgotten them. If others merely mouthed the Latin, having learned the British tongue as their first language, I raised my voice- just slightly-to speak the purer sounds that had been drilled into me. The strength of my voice caused Eoain to give me a wondering look, and he sighed as if in relief.

By the Benedictus, I experienced a profound renewal of spirit, for I had not been aware of how much I had needed the benediction of the mass. I vowed to renew my religious duties with vigor, even if, at Deva, I would have to rise before dawn to attend. At least once a month. I promised that to God, if he would further Lord Artos’s cause.

WHEN MASS WAS OVER, the lords made their exit first, passing through the lesser worshipers. Lord Artos cast his eyes to left and right as he proceeded, and he caught sight of me, giving his head a slow nod as if pleased to see me in the congregation. I was all the more glad that I had come this first morning in Camelot. I had been a sorry Christian these past few years and was joyous to have my faith also renewed today: another benefit of my service to Lord Artos.

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