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 hoarse 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.
“Or chased,” I said, and looked beyond the hedges that separated the fields.
“A point you have there, lad,” Teldys said with a heavy sigh, also casting his eyes around. “We shall set a watch, then, and see if we can catch whoever.”
We caught no one at that field; I was the eyes that were set to watch, secretly lodged in a tree bordering the field. But that evening, Splendora hobbled back from her pasture and instantly Canyd was called to see what had caused her lameness. I was grooming Cornix when Canyd called me to the door of the box stall. He said nothing as he opened his hand to show me a bloody thorn in his palm.
“Iswy’s here?” I cried. My heart pounded so hard I was sure that it was audible to Canyd.
“A nasty streak that Iswy has in him, and he claiming to be a horseman!” Canyd snorted. “Some of those Cor-novian tribesmen are like that. Take a real delight in avenging themselves for the silliest points of honor.”
“But where’s he staying?”
“Oh”-and Canyd threw up one hand, dismissing that consideration-“that one can live off the land. He’s a dead shot with that sling of his. Or he’s mixed in with some of those who roam these parts, picking up what they find whether it’s theirs or no. Couple or three times, we’ve had to patrol the roads from Deva against bands of thieves. Like attracts like, you know.” Then Canyd slapped my back in a friendly fashion. “The important thing is that your bay pony was too smart to be caught twice … and saved the stallion, too, I warrant.”