We had some time, I can tell you, getting the horses into this area. As the most placid of the five who were to be loaded in the first ship, Spadix was hoisted in first. During that operation, he whickered nervously, despite my shouts of encouragement from where I stood in the well of the ship.
“Easy, Spadix, that’s fine, I’m here. You’re not in danger!” I shouted, though I felt that/was in some danger. If the belly sling slipped, then Spadix would come crashing down on me. Still I didn’t let that concern color my voice as I kept reassuring him. As soon as I could reach, I got hold of one hind hoof, then quickly I transferred my grasp to his front legs, stroking them as he settled to the deck, wild eyed, ears pricked, and nostrils flaring in his panic.
“There, lad, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I said, stroking his sweaty neck and gentling him out of his fright.
“Let’s not delay, shall we, Galwyn?” Lord Artos called down to me. “We’ve four more to get in there, and then five in the other ship before dark, you know.”
Stepping lively then, I unfastened the sling from Spadix and gestured for it to be hoisted out and away, as I walked the shaky-legged pony to his place against the starboard side of the ship.
The foal came next, and it was paralyzed with fear, so stiff-legged I could barely coax it to walk off the sling. His dam followed, in haste to answer the frightened neighs of her foal. I tied her next to Spadix. The foal pushed in against her, urgently needing to suckle, and she became calmer, although she kept her head up and stared about, wide eyed.
Although the sides of the hold had been cushioned with straw-filled mattresses, the overwhelming odors in this part of the ship were a combination of sea, oil, and the tar with which the sides of the ship were caulked.
Surely the mare had smelled much the same combination when she had been sailed across the Middle Sea. And maybe that’s what was causing her distress.
The second mare was loaded almost without incident, though she snorted with nervousness at her strange new stable. Then I heard a good deal of shouting from the wharf as loud directions were issued by Lord Artos, with Bwlch and Bericus adding suggestions as to how to load Cornix.
“Blindfold!” Lord Artos cried. “He won’t fear what he can’t see. Where’s something to blindfold him? I don’t care if it’s your best tunic, it’ll cover his eyes.”
“Hobble his feet, or he’ll kick the lad to death as soon as he feels solid ground.”
“Solid ground?” That came from Bwlch with a loud bark of laughter. “What’s solid about a deck?”
“Hold him!”
“Watch his teeth! We should have tied his mouth shut, too.”
The men began hauling the stallion on board. Craning my neck, I could see his black bulk, blindfolded and leg-tied, swinging in over the deck. Fortunately he didn’t squirm as the mare had, though his sweat dripped down on my head. The lead chain dangled and I positioned myself to grab it.
“Whatever you do, Galwyn, don’t remove that blindfold,” Lord Artos called over the side.
“What about the hobbles?” I got hold of the long lead and carefully backed away from where Cornix would settle. He was swinging in the hoist and his teeth were bared, nostrils flaring red.
“Rear ones, I guess,” Lord Artos replied, though his tone was dubious.
I got those off as the stallion was still being lowered, and since he was not the brightest horse I had ever met, he didn’t realize his hind feet were free. He was also so confused that I was able to push him against the port side of the ship where he was to be tied. But I guess I didn’t tie him to the ring soon enough. Nor did the sailors manage to get the deck planks down before he realized what was happening. Even I could feel that subtle compression of air above me as the planks were slammed back over the opening. The hammering made him nervous and he flinched with every blow.