I stepped boldly into the midst of it, plucking the lead from the startled boy’s hand even as I quested soothingly toward the horse. He did not know me as well as he once had, but he calmed at the touch. “What goes on here?” I asked the stable boy.
“They came and took Cliff out of his stall. Without even asking. He’s my horse to take care of each day. But they didn’t even tell me what they were doing.”
“I have orders-” began the man who had been standing by.
“I am speaking to someone,” I informed him, and turned back to the boy. “Has Hands left orders with you about this horse?”
“Only the usual ones.” The boy had been close to tears when I first came on the struggle. Now that he had a potential ally, his voice was firming. He stood up straighter and met my eyes.
“Then it’s simple. We take the horse back to his stall until we have other orders from Hands. No horse moves from the Buckkeep stable without the knowledge of the acting stablemaster.” The boy had never let go his grip on Cliff’s headstall. Now I placed the lead rope in his hands.
“Exactly what I thought, sir,” he told me chippily. He turned on his heel. “Thank you, sir. Come on, Cliffie.” The boy marched off with the big horse lumbering placidly after him.
“I have orders to take that animal. Duke Ram of Tilth wishes him sent up the river immediately.” The man in Tilth colors was breathing through his nose at me.
“He does, does he? And has he cleared that with our stablemaster?” I was sure he had not.
“What goes on here?” This was Hands come running, very pink about the ears and cheeks. On another man it might have looked funny. I knew it meant he was angry.