“What was that?” Manob asked, bending down to observe my handiwork.
“An old puncture wound grown over,” I said in exactly the same level tone Canyd used when his guesses were correct. I turned to the rider. “Happens frequently, traveling rough country, no matter how careful you are of their feet. No hoof, no horse.”
Canyd cleared his throat but I didn’t look at him.
“Soak the foot for half an hour in warm water with a handful of salts in it. Then come back and we’ll see if it’s all clear.”
‘Tes, but can he be ridden?” The man evidently did not wish to be parted from his troop.
“He’ll be fine. I’ve something to plug the hole with, a tar-soaked flax that’ll keep it clean as well as aid in healing.”
After that, Manob regarded me more favorably. I inspected forty-four hooves that afternoon, and trimmed dead horn from most of them, certain that they would leave the farm sound. Fortunately there was only the one lame pony in the troop.
IT WAS WHEN CORNIX was taken to water that evening that the soldiers discovered the sandals. The sound they made on the flags of the courtyard turned every head. Cornix was accustomed to his sandals by now and no longer lifted his feet or tried to kick the iron off his feet.
“By Mithras, what’s wrong with that horse?” Manob cried.
“He has horse sandals on,” Canyd said. “Made of iron. Needs to be so shod on the wet ground, and the sandals will prove useful in battle as well.”
“Sandals for a horse?” Manob stared, round eyed with amusement. Then he guffawed. His men relaxed and grinned, taking their lead from their captain.
“Aye,” Canyd said, nodding imperturbably. “Can’t get no thorns or punctures through iron.”
The captain’s expression altered to a thoughtful one. Then he dismissed the matter with a shrug. “Doesn’t happen that often.”
“Often enough to leave you short of a man or two, I don’t doubt,” Alun said. “No hoof, no horse.”
“They all done like that?” Manob asked.
Canyd nodded.
“They nailed on?” Manob was quick wilted.
“And placed on the hoof hot, for the best fit,” Canyd admitted blandly.
“Horse lets you?”
“Hmmm. They know what’s good for ’em,” Canyd said, giving the animals more credit for sense than humans.
“What happens if one does come off on the journey?”
“That’s why Galwyn goes with you,” Canyd said, delighting in the expression on the captain’s face.
“He made the horse sandals?” Manob regarded me skeptically.
I knew I looked young, for I hadn’t much in the way of face hair yet, but he didn’t have to regard me as one would a child not yet out of leading strings.
“Indeed, he’s right handy with hammer and tongs,” Canyd said, in a sort of oblique warning.
“Seems to be,” Manob remarked.