Grinning broadly, Pahtuhr clapped a horny palm onto Alexandros’ shoulder. “Ever’thin’ I’ve heard about you is true, boy; you got balls, an’ no mistakin’. Me an’ Feelos, here, we done had many’s the high-mucketymuck Ehleenee a-screamin’ his head off and a-bawlin’ his eyes out afore we come to the milestone. You sure you ain’t got no Horseclans blood, Alex? You’re built like it, though you’re some taller.”
The Sea Lord shook his dusty head. “No, Lord Djeree, I am a Kath’akrdhs— pure Ehleea—according to my late father.”
The old man scratched his scarred, sun-browned scalp. “Well, with your guts and your build and strength, and your mindspeak, you’ll be a fine rider in record time.”
Milo’s herd was one of his experiments. The plains horses, on which the Horseclans had trekked to the east, were brave, intelligent for their species, and possessed a well-developed capacity for mindspeak; but they were slight, wiry, and small, like the race who had bred them. A large plains-horse stallion might be expected to stand fifteen hands at the withers, but the breed averaged considerably less.
The eastern breeds, especially those of the Middle Kingdoms, were all rolling muscle and tremendous power, some weighing twice as much as a plains horse. Pitzburk, Harzburk, Szunburk, and most of the other northern states would not even give war training to an animal of less than seventeen hands. Such horses easily bowled over the mounts of Horseclansmen, who quickly discovered that the only way they could stop a charge of Kahtahfraktoee or dragoons was by a concentrated arrow-rain at a distance, breaking up aad slowing the formation before it reached them.
But the clansmen considered the majority of the eastern horses stupid, and not without some justification; furthermore, few possessed more than rudimentary mind-speak. Although larger, eastern horses were far less hardy and self-sufficient than plains horses and were subject to a plethora of diseases and infirmities without a maximum of human care.
During the conquest of Kehnooryos Ehlahs and in the ten years following, a certain amount of uncontrolled interbreeding had taken place as captured eastern animals were introduced into plains horse herds. Then, thirty years of controlled interbreeding was instituted by Milo at a number of farms scattered about the Confederation. The herd from which Alexandros was to be mounted was small, less than two hundred horses; but they were the best of the best—combining the finest qualities of eastern charger and plains horse.
Lord Djeree, using only mindspeak, introduced Alexandros to the king stallion, informing the big, glossy bloodbay that Alexandros, too, was a king as well as a seasoned warrior. The king stallion and the two men then strolled through the herd, mindspeaking those of their host’s choosing. Finally, they selected a young, war-trained stallion, solid black with three white stockings. The three-year-old and Alexandros stumbled into immediate rapport and, when the man had given the horse a mental picture of the speed, ferocity, and awesome power of the huge, shiny-black Orcas, the black happily accepted the name “Ork.”
Lord Djeree’s predictions were well proven. Alexandros spent most of the next two weeks at the farm, at first under the old man’s expert tutelage, then alone with Ork. When he, Feeleepos, and Lord Djeree trotted their, mounts through the west gate, toward the end of the Sea Lord’s third week in Kehnooryos Ehlahs, no onlooker would have thought but that he had been a horseman from boyhood.
Although he had, of course, quartered a sextet of guardsmen at the farm and made occasional visits, Feeleepos had spent most of his time in the palace. Like any palace, Mara’s swarmed with informants, but under his stiffest questioning, none would admit to having heard Vahrohnos Paulos refer to Lord Alexandros in any stronger terms than “a silly, fickle boy.” The two guests Paulos had assaulted after Alexandros’ departure had both armed and ridden south, apparently fearing King Zastros’ army less than the Vahrohnos’ disfavor. Nor could underworld contacts in the city learn of any plot to poison or assassinate the Sea Lord. Paulos’ actions—or, rather, lack of actions—had both Feeleepos and Mara puzzled and deeply worried when the hostage-lord rode back into the city.
After a long, hot soak and bath, Alexandros dined in his suite with Feeleepos and Lord Djeree, then tossed the dice with them for an hour, glad when he lost a dozen gold pieces to the old man, since the horse master had refused any recompense for the long hours of extra labor. After a last goblet of wine, he bade them both good night and retired.