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Jun. 3rd, 2007 03:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Alektryon was quite convinced that Prince Hektor had gone mad when the message came at full moon that the bronze stallion was to be set loose at night in the training pen. He would have sought out the Prince and given him an argument over it, if his head had not been pounding from too much wine the night before. Easier by far just to obey the order and turn his attention to other, less unpleasant beasts.
He did have to admit that the horse had given the grooms less trouble of late, but the thought slipped his mind as he went about the rest of his tasks.
The torches guttered in the evening breeze, casting dancing shadows all about the pen. Hektor didn't like it much, but there was no help for it. The Palace noises were going still one by one as darkness fell, and so were the sounds of the rest of the city. He had hoped the moon's light would be enough to work by, but the clouds that came scudding in from the west put paid to that idea. Torches would have to do; he could only pray that jumping shadows would not trouble the horse the way the city's noises did.
He had brought the horse's bowl of grain with him tonight, along with several other things; there had been no other feed for the animal today, save the poor pickings he'd had in the south paddock. The wind was in his favor, even if the clouds were not, and the horse came willingly to the familiar smell. It was no great thing to reach up and stroke the bronze beast's forelock; by now the horse was used to such small touches, at least from Hektor. It was the greater that he hoped to accomplish tonight. He murmured a few soft words to the horse, who slanted an ear at him, but continued to eat.
When the grain was gone the beast nudged at Hektor's shoulder, expecting, as was usual, an apple for his troubles. "Not just yet," Hektor said to the horse. "Be still for me, and we'll see what it gets you, all right?"
The halter Lord Roustam's men had used to lead the horse had been hanging unused in the tack-room. It looked a little bit to Hektor as if it were meant to serve as a bridle, though it had no bit; the nose-band was of stiff rawhide, and the reins attached not to the sides but fastened in a great knot at the bottom. The rest was made of softer, braided rawhide, save for the reins, which looked to have been plaited from the horse's own tail-hairs. He had not seen its like before in Troy, but it seemed to him that the horse's like had not been seen before either; why not put it to use? When he held it up the horse sniffed it a few times, but showed neither fear nor objection, so he slid it over the beast's lowered head. The horse tossed his head once, but once only; when he stilled, Hektor held out the first piece of apple for him. "There, now," he murmured as the horse lipped the fruit away. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? Something you knew?"
The horse snorted, but gave no further trouble. Hektor smiled and took hold of the braided reins. "Now," he said, "let's see about your back, hmm? The blanket first..."
He did have to admit that the horse had given the grooms less trouble of late, but the thought slipped his mind as he went about the rest of his tasks.
The torches guttered in the evening breeze, casting dancing shadows all about the pen. Hektor didn't like it much, but there was no help for it. The Palace noises were going still one by one as darkness fell, and so were the sounds of the rest of the city. He had hoped the moon's light would be enough to work by, but the clouds that came scudding in from the west put paid to that idea. Torches would have to do; he could only pray that jumping shadows would not trouble the horse the way the city's noises did.
He had brought the horse's bowl of grain with him tonight, along with several other things; there had been no other feed for the animal today, save the poor pickings he'd had in the south paddock. The wind was in his favor, even if the clouds were not, and the horse came willingly to the familiar smell. It was no great thing to reach up and stroke the bronze beast's forelock; by now the horse was used to such small touches, at least from Hektor. It was the greater that he hoped to accomplish tonight. He murmured a few soft words to the horse, who slanted an ear at him, but continued to eat.
When the grain was gone the beast nudged at Hektor's shoulder, expecting, as was usual, an apple for his troubles. "Not just yet," Hektor said to the horse. "Be still for me, and we'll see what it gets you, all right?"
The halter Lord Roustam's men had used to lead the horse had been hanging unused in the tack-room. It looked a little bit to Hektor as if it were meant to serve as a bridle, though it had no bit; the nose-band was of stiff rawhide, and the reins attached not to the sides but fastened in a great knot at the bottom. The rest was made of softer, braided rawhide, save for the reins, which looked to have been plaited from the horse's own tail-hairs. He had not seen its like before in Troy, but it seemed to him that the horse's like had not been seen before either; why not put it to use? When he held it up the horse sniffed it a few times, but showed neither fear nor objection, so he slid it over the beast's lowered head. The horse tossed his head once, but once only; when he stilled, Hektor held out the first piece of apple for him. "There, now," he murmured as the horse lipped the fruit away. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? Something you knew?"
The horse snorted, but gave no further trouble. Hektor smiled and took hold of the braided reins. "Now," he said, "let's see about your back, hmm? The blanket first..."