Red Rowan: Book 4: The Dwarf Moot

by Helen Gosney

  “Which ones are…?”

  “Sold? ‘Tis easier to show you those that aren’t. In fact, that’s this afternoon’s job, to separate them out. But that dark bay colt there, with the star and white near hind foot, he’s still available. So are any chestnuts, light bays, or roans that you might see and a couple of the greys.”

  “He’s a lovely colt,” Pell said as it lipped carefully at his hands, “Why wouldn’t the Guard want him?”

  “He’s a bit small for them. They like their horses to be sixteen hands or a bit more. Bark there’s only fifteen and a bit.”

  “They’re well grown, though,” Stannel ventured as another handsome and muscular bay colt pushed at him with its nose.

  “Aye, they are, but they’re also older than some of the others that you’ll see here at the Fair. We don’t sell any of our horses until they’re four, or near as dammit four. A few are rising five because we felt they weren’t quite ready last year.”

  “They’re four? So they’re broken in, then?” Pell said.

  Rowan and Griff glanced at each other and grimaced at the term.

  “No, they’re not ‘broken in’, lad,” Griff said softly, “They’ve been treated gently and respectfully all their lives. We don’t ‘break’ horses. We do train them though, and with all modesty you’ll not find better mannered horses anywhere. But they’re not children’s ponies. They’re bred to be troop horses, mostly, so they have a bit of spirit to them. Some can even be said to be a bit feisty. Mind you, they do make fine saddle horses too, but they’re not for inexperienced riders, with all respect to you.”

  “I’ve been riding for a long time. My present horse is a quiet old thing now, but he used to be fairly feisty, and I’ve ridden Stannel’s mare and not had any trouble with her. He…”

  Griff looked at Stannel more closely and nodded.

  “… he bought her from us, didn’t he? I thought he looked familiar. Oh, your pardon for interrupting, but he bought Mist from us… what? Three years ago? I hope you’ve been happy with her?” he said.

  “Aye. She’s a lovely mare. I could have sold her a dozen times over, but I’d never part with her,” Stannel said proudly.

  “Good. ‘Tis what we always hope for,” Rowan turned back to Pell, “Now, tell us about your horse, please, while you look at ours.”

  “Rusty? You want me to tell you about Rusty? Why?”

  “We’d have to see him before we’d sell a horse to you,” Griff said, “Well, not you personally, I didn’t put that well, did I? But we like to be sure that our horses will be well looked after when they leave us.”

  “Aye, we do the same with everyone who’s interested in them, even if they’re Guardsmen,” Rowan said, “It can really upset some of the more arrogant bastards too, especially when we tell them we won’t sell to their garrison until they raise their standards a bit.”

  “You… you’d say that to them?” Stannel was shocked at the thought.

  “Why not, if ‘tis the truth?” Rowan shrugged, “We’ve raised these horses since they were born, and they mean a lot to us. It breaks our hearts to part with them, truly, but… well, we simply can’t keep them all. We knew that when we started this. But we won’t sell them to anyone who just walks up with a bag of gold and a nice smile and asks for them. We want them to go to somebody who’ll look after them properly, respect them and treat them with honour and kindness. ‘Tisn’t a lot to ask, is it?”

  “No. No, it isn’t…”

  Perhaps a novel idea, in some ways, but not really a big ask when one thought about it.

  “So, tell us about Rusty, if you would, please.”

  “Well… he’s, um, he’s chestnut, with a narrow blaze and four white socks. He’s about fifteen and a half hands, and he’s er, nearly nineteen. I’ve had him for a long time, but he’s getting a bit slow now and I… I thought I’d like a better horse. He’s been a good horse, but…”

  “He’s a gelding?”

  “Aye.”

  “What will you do with him when you have a new horse?”

  “Stannel’s daughter’s going to have him. Lyra’s only fourteen, so he’ll be a bit big for her, but he’s such a quiet old thing that she’ll be all right.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’re not going to sell him on.”

  “Gods! I couldn’t do that!” Pell said, and Rowan and Griff were heartened by the genuine shock on his face, “He’s like a part of the family!”

  “’Tis how it should be, laddie,” Griff said, “Shall we go and see him now?”

  “Now?”

  Rowan nodded.

  “Aye, why not? Is he far from here?”

  “No. No, he’s in the, er, visitors’ barn.”

  “’Tisn’t far at all. Let’s go, then.”

  Pell and Stannel found themselves following Rowan and Griff as they strode off. This time the stallions stayed behind in a yard with Griff’s horse, Raven, and Umber and Boof trotted at Rowan’s heels.

  **********

  28. “We call her Rain”

  The visitors’ barn was fairly full and some of the horses weren’t happy about being there. They were letting everyone know about it too, but there was instant calm as Rowan and Griff followed the brothers inside.

  “Why do they do that?” Stannel asked curiously as horse after horse came to the front of its stall to watch Rowan and Griff walk by.

  They shrugged.

  “They say that you’re both Horse Masters, don’t they? Is that why they’re all…?” Pell said, his burning curiosity suddenly getting the better of him.

  “Aye, ‘tis. Don’t ask us to explain it, because we simply can’t, but a lot of our clan would be considered Horse Masters here in Wirran. Horse Whisperer, we call it at home,” Rowan said as he patted a handsome chestnut stallion that’d been trying to kick its way out of its stall for the last hour or so, but was now standing quietly.

  “Bugger me! I always thought it was just a story,” Pell said.

  “No. As I say, a lot of our clan can do this. Some more than others, but there’s not many who can’t do it at all. ‘Tis handy at times.”

  “It would be. Um… Rusty is just along here…”

  An old chestnut gelding with a narrow blaze down its face was looking at them expectantly. Rowan and Griff stood back so that Pell could bring it out to them. It nuzzled his hand in a distracted sort of way, obviously much more interested in seeing Rowan and Griff.

  “Sorry, lad. ‘Tis just the way of it,” Griff said softly as he saw the surprised and rather hurt look on Pell’s face, “Don’t blame your horse, now.”

  “Right, Rusty, old lad, let’s have a bit of a look at you…” Rowan said as he stroked the old horse’s nose. It leaned happily against him and sighed.

  “He doesn’t like folk looking at his mouth…” Pell’s voice faded as Rowan opened the horse’s mouth with no trouble at all and peered inside.

  “Mmm… looks pretty good though,” Rowan said.

  Griff ran his hands down the horse’s legs and body and checked its hooves as Rowan patted it and then watched carefully as it ate some oats from his hands.

  “Ah, this off hind shoe’s coming loose,” Griff said, “Do they have a farrier here, do you know?”

  “I think so,” Pell thought about it a bit more, “Yes, they do, I saw him reshoeing a horse this morning.”

  “Good. Can you see if you can find him, please, and borrow a hammer from him? Rusty’s just got a nail that needs a bit of a whack, and I’d better not use the head of my axe.”

  Shortly after, the farrier bustled up with a couple of hammers in his hands.

  “Is this the ‘orse that’s got a loose shoe?” he said, looking at Rowan and Griff in surprise.

  “Yes. Well, ‘tisn’t that loose really. The nail just needs a bit of a thump,” Griff said.

  “I, um, should tell you that Rusty’s a bugger to shoe. Always has been,” Pell said hesitantly.

  “Ha! Shouldn’t be a bother with
these two around, should it? Do you want to do the deed, or shall I?” the farrier said with a grin.

  “I don’t mind if you don’t,” Griff grinned back at the farrier.

  “’Course not. Saves my back a bit, and I can watch you at the same time,” the farrier said, then added hastily, “No disrespect intended, mind. Here, you might as well replace the damned nail while you’re at it.”

  He handed over a new nail. It looked tiny in Griff’s huge hand, but he nodded and bent down to take the horse’s hoof in his hand again. Rowan stroked the gelding’s nose and it stood like a rock as Griff quickly replaced the offending nail.

  “He’s a fine horse, for all that he’s getting on a bit. I can see that you’re taking good care of him. So, shall we put him back in his box and go back to the business of looking at horses?” Griff said with a smile as he straightened to his full height.

  “But what about his shoe? And is his hoof all right?” Pell said worriedly, “I… I had no idea he…”

  “Don’t fret yourself, Pell. Happens to all of us,” Rowan said as he gave Rusty a last pat and a peppermint, “Especially if he’s a bit funny about having his feet checked.”

  “He always has been, a bit. More so lately though.”

  “He’s just exercising his right to be a bit of a grumpy old bugger sometimes, that’s all. Don’t worry, he’s fine. He’s moving well and he’s eating well, too. He’s crunched up that peppermint with no trouble, and he ate up the oats I gave him too. I think he’s got quite a few more years in him yet,” Rowan said, then looked around, “Is Mist here too?”

  Stannel nodded.

  “Aye, she’s just…”

  “… down there. Aye, I see her. Do you mind if we have a quick visit with her too? ‘Tis always good to see our horses again.”

  Mist was a pretty dappled grey mare, and she was very excited to see Griff and Rowan again. She nosed Stannel aside so that they might pat her better, and she leaned happily against Rowan, just as Rusty had. She didn’t get the full examination that the chestnut had, but Stannel had the feeling that nothing was missed as both men patted the mare and made much of her. She nuzzled at Rowan’s pocket and he laughed and gave her a peppermint too.

  Finally they left to go back to the horseyards.

  “That little grey filly that was flirting with you before is a full sister to Mist, Pell. We call her Rain,” Rowan said quietly, “Maybe you’d like to try her, as well as some of the colts. She’s not quite as feisty as them, even though she’s one of Mica’s daughters.”

  “Mica’s foals do tend to be a bit feistier than Soot’s,” Griff added helpfully, “But, as we said before, they’re none of them children’s ponies. They’re all fairly spirited.”

  “If you don’t mind waiting for a bit, we’ll separate out the ones that’ve been sold, so you can see the others properly. It won’t take us long,” Rowan said.

  “Can we help you with it?” Stannel asked.

  Rowan smiled at him.

  “Aye, thank you. You can manage the gates for us, if you will.”

  **********

  29. “what we’ve come here to do”

  It took no time at all for Rowan and Griff to separate the sold and unsold horses. Stannel had thought that they’d use the dogs, but Umber and Boof sat by the gate, tails wagging gently as Rowan walked out of the colts’ yard and headed to a vacant one with the horses he wanted following him, while Griff stayed behind to make sure that the rest didn’t do the same. A couple of minutes later and they’d separated the sold and unsold fillies as well.

  “Bloody Hells! I can see why they say it’s a handy talent to have,” Pell said softly.

  Stannel nodded, not really believing what his eyes were seeing.

  “There we are, lads. Now you can see them better. Is there any of them in particular you’d like us to show off for you?”

  “Aye. That bay colt we saw before… and the grey filly too, if it’s not too much bother,” Pell said, uncertain which he’d choose if both turned out to be equally suitable.

  “’Tis no bother at all, Pell. ‘Tis what we’ve come here to do,” Rowan said. He glanced in at the half a dozen unsold colts, then climbed the fence and walked up to the dark bay colt, Bark. It nuzzled him happily as he stroked its nose and then quickly looked it over.

  “Come on, my fine lad, let’s show you off for these nice gents,” he said softly. He vaulted onto the colt’s bare back and rode it out of the yard and over to the larger grassy area nearby.

  Bark trotted and cantered in circles and neat figures-of-eight, and the Wirrans were surprised at the smoothness of his paces and his good manners. There was certainly no trace of undue feistiness. Then Rowan put him over a series of hurdles and the colt jumped them eagerly and looked around for more. It seemed almost disappointed as Rowan slid from its back, handed it over to Griff, then repeated the whole business with the grey filly, Rain.

  Rain performed just as well as Bark had. Griff smiled to himself as he saw the brothers look at each other in surprise. Rowan could make a damned cow look good, let alone any of these horses, he thought, but all the same, they ARE bloody good.

  “Now it’s your turn, Pell. I’ll just get a saddle and bridle for you,” Rowan said, and hurried off to a nearby shed.

  Pell and Stannel stared at him. They’d forgotten he was riding bareback, and hadn’t realised that he’d not had a bridle on the horses either. They should have, of course, but they’d been so mesmerised by the young horses’ display that they simply hadn’t.

  “Now, I don’t want to offend you, Pell,” Griff said quietly, “But… well, you’ve been used to riding a quiet old gelding, with all respect to Rusty. These two are a lot different to him, especially young Bark. They’ll respond to just a light touch, so just be, er, how can I put it? A bit careful.”

  “Don’t kick them in the ribs, is what he’s trying to say,” Rowan said as he came back with the saddle and bridle, “Just a gentle nudge will do the job. But you said you’ve ridden Mist, so I’m sure you’ll be fine. Now, which one first? Bark or Rain? Bark can be a bit feisty.”

  All the same, Pell had been wanting a fine, spirited colt, and this one was not only very attractive, but exactly what he’d had in mind.

  “Er, I’ll start with Bark, I think, thanks,” he said.

  The colt was certainly a very different proposition from Rusty, Pell thought. About the same size, but he had a completely different air about him. A bold, lively and perhaps slightly cheeky look to him. Of course he was a young horse, and a colt, not a quiet old gelding. The bay stood well as Pell mounted. It tossed its head and sidled sideways for a bit and half reared, but then it seemed to remember its manners and it trotted and cantered beautifully, just as it’d done before. Bark’s paces were very smooth and comfortable and Pell was very impressed with him.

  “Is it all right if I jump him too?” he asked.

  “Of course it is. He loves to jump,” Griff said.

  Bark did indeed love to jump and Pell found that he was very good at it and seemed fearless into the bargain.

  “He’s wonderful,” he said as he slowly dismounted.

  “Aye, he’s a good colt, and truly, ‘tis the Guard’s loss that they didn’t take him. Do you want to try Rain now?”

  Pell looked uncertain for a moment, then he looked at the pretty young mare and nodded.

  Rain was about the same height as Bark, not quite as muscular as the strapping young colt, and not as frisky either; but she performed equally well, and Pell found himself in a quandary. Both horses were superb, and he’d be happy with either of them. He said as much.

  Griff and Rowan laughed.

  “’Tis good of you to say so, Pell. But you should try a lot of horses, not just ours, before you decide,” Griff said.

  “Have I said something daft?” he added as he saw Stannel roll his eyes and heard him mutter “Oh, Gods! Not more!”

  “No, no! I’m sorry, I meant no offence,” Stannel said hast
ily, mindful of the foresters’ reputation for good manners, and certainly these two had been politeness itself, if blunt. “It’s just that this is the third day we’ve come here, and I truly think we’ve seen every damned horse in the entire place, and tried a good percentage of them too.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, ‘tis good to look at a few, but don’t let yourselves be talked into anything either. Go away and think about it if you’re not absolutely certain that you’ve found the horse that’s right for you. You should really go away and think about it even if you’re utterly sure that you have.”

  “You’re not like any of the other breeders here…” Pell said, surprised.

  Griff and Rowan looked at each other and laughed again

  “Thank you. I’d bloody hope we’re not like some of them, anyway,” Rowan said, “We want you to be happy with your horse, whoever you buy it from, because then you’ll treat it as well as you’ve treated Rusty. And, well, we want our horses to be happy too. ‘Tis why we always ask to see the buyers’ own horses.”

  “Well, I… I’m truly not sure which one I want. No, I want them both, but I can’t have them both, unfortunately,” Pell said.

  “You need to go away for a day or so and think about it a bit more, truly. Don’t fret, Bark and Rain will both still be here. Just let us know if you find a horse somewhere else that suits you better, and then we’ll show them to others again. I promise you that we won’t be offended,” Griff said.

  “You’d do that?”

  “Why not? We don’t expect you to decide right this moment, lad. Oh, and I should warn you. We don’t bargain with our prices, so let me tell you what you’d be up for if you do decide on one of them…” Griff named the prices, a bit more for the colt of course; even so, while certainly not cheap, they were surprisingly reasonable for such superb animals.

  “You look surprised. I’m truly sorry if ‘tis too much for you, but… well, we think that’s a fair and reasonable price,” Rowan said.