The Shining Wyrm

5.5

To try and pass the time Jewel slowed her bounds to match pace with Smithson’s own horse. His steed was another Hackney, although perhaps a bit better tempered than some that the footmen were riding. Her Squire rode the mare with reins looped into the saddle and dangling low with slack at the halter.

Smithson was apparently quite the accomplished rider. Using just the occasional click of his tongue, whistle and shifting of his hips and legs in the saddle to guide his steed alongside the rest.

When he was not letting the mare simply make her own way through no direction at all of his own.

Well, he was a stableboy after all.

Maybe this would be a good way to make inroads to her squire and resolve his undoubtedly numerous complaints against her.

“What’s her name?”

Which caused him to jolt so hard that he squeezed a bit tightly with his legs and jolted the Mare in a brief canter before calming her back to the more manageable plodding pace the party had settled into up to that point.

“Ah uhm apologies, Lady Jewel, who?”

Jewel, having not even lost pace with them despite the erratic little bound raised a brow and then nodded down.

“Your steed. You know her name, don’t you?”

His ears were turning red again. How could Jewel mess up so badly that she managed to insult him with that?

“Ah! Of course, my apologies Lady Jewel!”

Or maybe not? That was not the tone of anger at all. It was closer to fear. Strange she’d never seen someone get flushed from fear before — usually the opposite, in fact.

“Uhm. Her name’s a bit of a poor joke. She used to step on Stablemaster Gizo’s feet when she was still a filly. But instead of stepping off like most horse she would just lean into it and settle all of her weight and just stare at him. Like an Oxen might you see. So she’s named Oxhoof.”

Was that the problem? Did she scare her squire? Oh dear, Jewel had been going about this all wrong and just making it worse.

“She’s mostly broken that habit, at least as long as I’ve known her, but I don’t think he ever forgave her for it.”

Yes, he was rushing through all of his words with a terrible tension to his voice, a flood of words that was definitely fear.

How could she salvage this?

She offered a sweet smile (no teeth!) and nodded to him.

“Ah I see, I think it’s a fitting name. One to be proud of. She’s no draft horse but I’ve read they can match the strength of an Oxen in the field. And a Hackney Mare is judged by her endurance and constitution. Not the delicate lightness of her step, yes?”

He stared at her apparently paralyzed with fear? No, not fear this time. It was in surprise? Maybe?

Oh good he was starting to smile as well so maybe she did something right?

“W-why yes, that is exactly right, Lady Jewel! I didn't know you knew your horsecraft, my Lady. I figured it would not have been interesting given you can’t ride them and all...”

His eyes bulged with sudden terror but Jewel was watching for it and tried to interrupt whatever he was going to say.

“Oh! No offense in speaking your mind, Squire Smithson. And it was naught but what was written in Father’s study. I’ve hardly had a chance to practice much with horses.”

That seemed to bring an entirely different expression of shock.

“They write down in books about horses?”

Jewel nodded along with him.

“Quite a lot actually, at least three of the books in Father’s study have writing on the breeding, care and value of horses. We provide most of the quality of War Horse for a third of Viznove, so it’s important for me and my brother to know of them so as to be proper Stewards of the barony.”

Her squire seemed struck dumb by the prospect of three books that dealt with horses. Which Jewel admitted she embellished a bit, there were only passages on the topic of horses in each of the three books.

Then again she had been told Father’s study was quite a bit larger than most lords of his ranking. Apparently Rochford’s trade in high quality vellum had led to lucrative favors and copies of various books of interest to the Rochford family being made as payments over the centuries.

It was strange to consider the idea that sheep lead to books and quite possibly also lead to the extensive amount of scribe work lessons her and Alexander had been subjected too.

If Father’s demesne had contained fewer sheep would there have been less time studying the histories?

The silence between them as she bounded alongside Ox Hoof’s slow plod continued to grow longer as Smithson failed to offer another topic and Jewel continued to feel even less prepared to provide one.

It was a great relief to all of them when they finally heard word that the way station where they would stop for the night was within sight along the road.

Jewel was getting to the point she was ready to ask the gods to send them a bandit ambush or a monster raid just to escape from the awkwardness of her situation with her Squire.

Father gave her a glance and a nod and as the ever dutiful daughter Jewel shifted her pace to meet up with him and Kraok at the head of their march.

One of the scouts was there as well, his own horse breathing in heavy bellowing gasps and slick in sweat. Pushed a bit too hard Jewel thought to bring news of their lodgings for the night.

“Lord Rochford, the way house is unoccupied but secure. The log slates tell it has not been used since Weed Blight.”

Jewel considered the footman at that, he must have been a farmer born lad. Only field working peasants called the second summer weed blight.

Father meanwhile nodded and then called out to the empty air.

“Tsulogothulan, go on ahead and make room for your own comfort. We will discuss tomorrow's journey over supper.”

There was only a single wet but very distinct croak of a kind not heard their entire journey so far. And then an absence of moisture to the air that Jewel had not fully realized had even been present.

A clear dryness to the wind that had been ever so slightly cloying.

She would have to remember that.

Wizards could be present even when you did not see them.

The ride was quiet but in a jovial mood for everyone after that.

The coolness to the air welcome and refreshing.

Wicking away the scent of man and horse’s exertions into the air and leaving on the slightest hint on their clothing and kit.

Before long they came into sight of the way house and Jewel was to be honest a bit disappointed.

It was at one point probably a stone watchtower, with a cut and a feel to the blocks that reminded her of the Manor Houses’ oldest walls.

But where it had certainly once reached well over the height of the tallest trees it now resembled more of a round stone hut not much bigger than the middle-sized of peasant houses.

One and a half floors, the second mostly serving as a repurposed roof with a conical thatch pattern to it that reminded her greatly of Euryale or Tsulogothulan’s hats. Around the edges on one side the original stone walls reached up like teeth out of the gums of bound straw.

There was a narrow murder hole of a window and a few piles of smaller stone rubble grown over with moss scattered around it.

The hearth was already lit inside and she could smell a stew pot just being brought up to temperature to boil their rations for a heartier meal.

Well, their rations and some of the coneys that were strung up to bleed out off to the side. One of the scouts had apparently snared a few of them.

Probably for Father, Jewel, Kraok and Bromthil.

As soon as they pulled up, and the rest of the footmen began unpacking and stretching out the weariness from their day of riding, Kraok had taken one look at the hanging rabbit carcasses and shook his head.

“I’m going to make a check of the surrounding wood for more game, that’s hardly enough meat to even give Zephyrvam a snack.”

Father considered him then shook his head.

“Nay Boarslayer, your duty is to guard the tithe box. I’ll make a sweep of the woods with Zephyrvam for a bit of exercise. You and Bromthil see to the camp and settle in.”

He turned his gaze to Jewel and there was a twinkle to his eyes that she immediately recognized!

“Jewel get yourself unloaded and join me. Between the two of us we should be able to find something enough to feed the men.”

With speed being of the essence, she almost bit her buckles off right there, but she remembered just as her neck was craning to nip them.

Right, that was unbecoming.

But she did have a Squire.

“Squire Smithson! Attend me and my gear, See it stowed properly, I am going on a hunt with my Lord.”

If every evening she got to fly with Father, Jewel was going to have to see if she could be obligated to attend him on more trips like this!