“Without a hoof, you’ve no horse, lad.”
There was no longer any doubt in my mind that Lord Artos had been quoting old Canyd that night on the way to Burtigala.
“Care for then- feet,” he went on, “an’ ease the tiredness of their legs, an’ you’ve a horse to carry you. ‘Tis the foot that carries the pony an’ you.”
I got interested, as much because it was a way of passing the slow hours of our marching as because I found that I wanted to know more. Old SolvLn had said that horses would teach you something new every day of your life and you’d never get to know all there was to learn of them. If any came close to such total knowledge, it was surely Canyd.
Occasionally another rider would pass close enough to the cart to hear these lessons, and he’d roll his eyes sympathetically. But I did not for a moment consider Canyd Bawn’s words boring.
That first evening, Canyd drew sketches in the dirt near the firelight, delineating the bones and tendons of a horse’s leg.
“That’s all they is, bone and tendon. For all it’s the most important part of a horse, there’s little flesh. Lose the foot and you’ve lost the horse.”
I grinned at his repetition. He had a variety of phrases expressing the same truism. But I was also impressed by the masterful way his knifepoint depicted each separate part of the whole.
“When we get to the farm, I can show you. I’ve saved a leg and a hoof to illustrate what I mean.” And now he laid a finger alongside his nose. “Like I thought, big horses like them ‘uns are going to need special care. For their hooves. No hoof, no horse.”
I grinned again but said I looked forward to seeing a leg and a hoof-though I didn’t then realize what he meant.
We would all be glad to reach the end of this journey, for the weather had turned raw, with sleet showers more frequent, as well as frost liming the grass in the mornings.
Then, coming out of a fold of the hills, we could see the road running straight to the walled city of Deva.
“About a thousand souls or so,” Bericus replied when I asked him how many lived there. I caught my breath at the thought of so many people living in one place, fortified against raiders as it was. “But we go east, to the farm”-and he pointed with his riding stick. “No need to go into the city at all.”
I was disappointed not to have a chance to wander through a place of that size. I knew it had been a legionary fortress and its stout walls had been repaired many times.
“Don’t worry, lad, you’ll have a chance to see the city later,” Bericus said to console my obvious chagrin. “If only to hear mass.”
The Devan group among us now stretched their mounts’ stride in an effort to reach home by darkness. Spadix could trot with the best of them, and all the Libyans seemed infected by the excitement of their riders.
WE ARRIVED AS DUSK was settling, but we had been seen on our approach through the lush pastures where cattle, ponies, and horses grazed. The geese who were penned during the day by the main gate honked and flapped their wings, telling all who hadn’t heard that there were visitors. Mylather had also used those birds as nightly watchguards: I had scars on the calves of my legs to prove their diligence. Here there were also three big mastiffs, chained to the wall by day. These were let loose at night but knew who should and should not be about the enclosure at odd hours.
I was surprised by the extent of the farm, for the main buildings, like the city, were stoutly walled against intruders. But then an establishment of its prestige would have to be secure from all but the most insistent attacks. Inside the thick walls there were many buildings, including a long low range of stables and barns, as well as cots for the farmworkers. The villa that would house Comes Artos on his visits was extensive, and it was several weeks before there was any occasion for me to enter it. On those rare occasions when I did enter, it reminded me too much of the home I had lost. My uncle had taught me well the humility required by my reduced state, and I would never forget those lessons.