Then he burst out laughing. He had the most infectious laugh, so I had to grin back at him. “I’ve taken Spadix from you, haven’t I, for that sentimental barbarian of a Libyan. Well, as my messenger, you must naturally have a suitable mount. He awaits you. I shall look forward to our next meeting, Galwyn Varianus. A hundred more like you at my back, and no Saxon army could withstand us!”
Thus, chest swelled with pride, I left his presence and hurried out to the courtyard. I would miss Spadix, though not as much as I might once have done; I’d grown too tall to be very comfortable riding him. But he would always have a special place in my heart. After all, he’d carried me bravely into a completely new life.
I did not, however, anticipate the mount awaiting me-the African gray! And wearing, under the saddle, a pad with Lord Artos’s distinctive device of the bear. Tied to the saddle was a cloak, also in the colors of the man I served, and leathern pouches to protect the scrolls from weather and dust. All would know me for a messenger of the Comes Britannorum and respect me as such.
Master Glebus himself was there, smiling with great pleasure at my astonishment.
“Surely there’s some mistake, Master Glebus!” I exclaimed. “He’s much too-”
“Nonsense, lad, with the new Libyan to amuse the Comes, he is not likely to ride this fellow as much as Ravus needs. He’s also to do his bit with the mares, for we can always use more messenger horses with his turn of hoof and endurance. He’s a good do-er and will keep condition if he only smells oats now and then. Further”-and now Glebus leaned into me with a hand cupping his mouth-“Lord Artos in full regalia is too heavy for his back. The Libyan suits him better in that regard: an animal well up to weight.” He straightened up, winking. “You’re a messenger right now, too, so the gray’s speed is to your advantage. You know your first destination?”
I glanced down at the slip-it was nearly transparent with all the messages that had been inscribed and then scraped off its surface. My first stop would be outside Aqua Sulis at an armorer’s, one Sextus Tertonius’s, a destination which I could make easily on this fine horse by evening-if I started immediately.
“You’ll be fed and bedded on the way, lad. No fear of that as the Comes’s messenger.”
I took the reins from Master Glebus’s hand and vaulted to the stallion’s back. He pranced in place under me until I soothed him with my voice and a hand on the arching crest of his neck.
“Good speed, lad,” the horsemaster said, stepping back. I pressed my knees into the trembling sides of my mount and began my journey back to the farm.
AS SOON AS WE HAD MANAGED to descend from the heights of Camelot, I let the fidgeting Ravus have his head and he went forward at a gallop, his hooves ringing against the paving stones. He was fresh and I honestly did want to test his gaits. He was so agile that we had no difficulty in weaving around those on their way to Camelot. I even heard a few cheers.
I thought I heard an echo of a curse, and looking over my shoulder for fear I had inadvertently caused trouble, I did see another mounted rider some distance behind me. His animal was not as clever footed as mine, and the rider had run right into a team of oxen dragging a sled full of granite.
I stroked Ravus’s neck, well pleased with his dexterity, and let him continue his gallop. He had sense enough himself to drop down to a canter, an easy gait for a rider to relax into.
I reached my first destination, the armorer’s, where Sextus Tertonius himself greeted me, emerging from the smoky interior of his forge, where hah0 a dozen men were busy at anvil and hearth. He called one lad to take my horse away to be unsaddled and refreshed.
“For you will surely need to rinse the travel dust from your throat, Galwyn,” Sextus said, and then wrenched his head around at the sound of Ravus’s shod feet on the bricks of his yard. “Whatever is the matter with him?”