“All done, and to Canyd’s close satisfaction,” Bericus said. “Tomorrow is soon enough for you to take up your duties. We’ve a feast tonight-the coin I gave the landlord should ensure one-to celebrate the safe arrival-”
“Safe? When we lost the foal…” I began, conscience-stricken.
“Galwyn”-and Bericus put his hand on my shoulder to stem my denial-“he has no idea, has he, Bwlch”- and he grinned at the other Companion-“how well he did to bring so many safely ashore? No, lad, to lose only one is well indeed. Even Prince Cador was amazed at our good fortune. And envious of our fine herd!”
“As well he should be,” Bwlch said, and then we all bustled down to the inn, where rough trestle tables had been set up with a fine meal upon them, roast suckling pig and three capons, as well as mounds of vegetables and loaves of bread.
“Eat hearty, Galwyn,” Bericus urged. “Travel food is not such as this, and we’ve a long journey to Deva.”
I followed his advice and gorged myself until I thought I would burst. I did not, however, eat until my stomach overflowed, as did Decius Gallicanus and the sour-faced Cornovian Egdyl the White; I knew this was the custom at feasts, a remnant of Roman habits.
The two beakers of well-watered wine that Bericus fixed for me probably accounted for the reason I was able to sleep not three hours after rising from a daylong rest. Cheerfully he advised me to sleep as deeply as I could, for I’d be camping out from tomorrow on.
CAMPING OUT WOULD HAVE BEEN no problem to me, had it not been for the attitude of Iswy, Decius, and Egdyl. Very quickly they made it obvious to me that I was
merely a horse boy now, and the lowest of that lowly rank.
“Here, you boy,” Iswy said as if he were my superior. “Shovel up these droppings.”
“He can help me carry water to the footsore,” Decius spoke up, probably thinking that as the older man, he had a better right to dispose of my time.
I shrugged. I was quite willing to do either task, and I looked for guidance from Canyd.
“Give him one job or t’other,” Canyd said. “Tho’ it’s your horse who made the pile, Iswy,” he added, and dismissed me to assist Decius.
Their attitude became even harsher on those days when Bericus took me to help him with errands, as if I weren’t working just as hard with the Companion as I would have under Canyd’s orders. At that, I would have much rather stayed on in the camp to watch Ganyd’s way with horses-for he was uncanny. Every single horse, Cornix included, would come when he called. He would stand by his bucket of lotion and they would approach, waiting patiently while he examined them daily, from poll to tail. And all that after each groom had already checked his charge at morning feed.
The droppings of the newest ones were very loose after they began to graze. Of course, at this time of year grass had not the nutritive value of, say, the first vernal growth, but it was juicier than the dry hay that we supplied them at night. Canyd inspected each pile in the field, checking for worms, the remedy for which was a clove of garlic mashed into their crushed oats.
“It’s the new grass, the new water, as upsets their innards,” Canyd told me. “So far they’ve all come around, even the mares in foal. I’d some worry for them, making such a wild trip an’ all. But they be sturdy. Their feet are good, too.”
“Feet?” I exclaimed, since the conformation of the animals was most notable in their deep chests and barrels, the bones of their legs.
“No foot, no horse,” Canyd said.
I confess that I stared for a moment at the man, suddenly recalling Lord Artos using the same words. So here was the man who wanted to put an iron rim on horses’ feet. I knew, of course, that it was necessary to be sure no stones or thorns were stuck in the frog of the foot, and I’d carved myself a little prod for just that purpose. But a sandal of iron for a horse?