seeking a
breakout to the south and Rap persistently cutting him off. At noon the game
was postponed for some serious grazing and rolling, and Rap was then able to
start thinking about lunch. His viewpoint looked down upon the highway, and it
was then he observed a solitary traveler in obvious trouble. Having confirmed
that Firedragon had temporarily suspended his planned migration-being presently
more interested in one of the mares--Rap pointed Bluebottle down the hill and
went off to assist. On the way he donned his shirt to be respectable for human
company. The highway was a barely visible track through the hills, here
following a winding valley marked at long intervals by the graves of some who
had tried to follow the trail in winter, but otherwise barren of any other sign
of mankind. Plodding upon it was the traveler. Some way ahead of him, a saddled
horse methodically cropped the grass. Every few minutes it would wander a few
steps and return to eating, but those few steps were deceptively effective. The
gap between quarry and pursuer was growing no narrower. It certainly never
would, unless the horse was unlucky enough to catch its reins in a bush. There
were very few bushes. The wayfarer noted Rap’s approach and stopped to
wait for him, undoubtedly with relief. He flinched as the dogs bounded up, but
once they had sniffed him thoroughly and decided that he was not a wolf in
minstrel’s clothing, they wandered off to inspect the scents upon the
road.
Jalon
was garbed in the same brown cloak and oversize doublet he had worn when Rap
challenged him at the palace gate, and the same baggy hose.
“You
are a welcome sight, young man!”
Rap
returned the smile, slid from Bluebottle’s back, and eased his aching
legs. “It is a long walk to Pondague, sir. “
“You
think perhaps I should ride the horse?”
“It
would be quicker.” Obviously Rap had not been recognized, which was not
surprising, for men-at-arms did not wander the hills. He unhooked his grub bag
from his belt. “I was about to eat, sir, if you would care to join me?
Company with lunch would be a rare luxury. “
Jalon
glanced at his mount, which was pretending not to be watching but had noticed
Bluebottle. “I was going to do the same about an hour ago,” he
confessed, “but I forgot that a horse is not a harp, which stays where
you put it. “ Then his smile turned to alarm as he saw Bluebottle also
wandering off in search of lusher nourishment. “Have you not just made
the same mistake?”
Rap
shook his head. “He’ll come if I call. “
Now
Jalon had noticed more and was staring in disbelief. “No saddle? No
bridle? No reins?”
His
surprise was understandable. Rap squirmed slightly. “It was a wager, sir.
Some of the other men bet me that I could not ride herd all day like that.
Usually I use saddle and bit, sir. Except for very short journeys.”
The
minstrel, studied him for a few moments in astonished silence. “You can
control a horse without?”
“Most
of them. “ Rap felt more embarrassed than flattered. It was no great
trick, for the horses had known him all their lives.
Jalon
frowned. “Then can you call mine over? I have some royal provisions that
I shall be happy to share. “
Rap
nodded. “That one I can. Sunbeam! Come here!”
Sunbeam
raised her head and sent him a look of studied insolence.
“Sunbeam!”
She
twisted her ears a few times, bent for a few more mouthfuls to show that she
was pleasing herself, and then began to drift toward the men, nibbling as she
came.
“They
don’t like to be rushed,” Rap explained, but he did not have to
call again. In a few moments Sunbeam arrived and nuzzled his hand. He loosened
the saddle girths and tied the reins back out of harm’s way. Then he
detached the saddlebag and laid it down. He patted Sunbeam’s rump and she
wandered off to join Bluebottle.
“Incredible!”
Jalon said.
“Sir,
the way you sing is incredible. You must allow me a knack for
breakout to the south and Rap persistently cutting him off. At noon the game
was postponed for some serious grazing and rolling, and Rap was then able to
start thinking about lunch. His viewpoint looked down upon the highway, and it
was then he observed a solitary traveler in obvious trouble. Having confirmed
that Firedragon had temporarily suspended his planned migration-being presently
more interested in one of the mares--Rap pointed Bluebottle down the hill and
went off to assist. On the way he donned his shirt to be respectable for human
company. The highway was a barely visible track through the hills, here
following a winding valley marked at long intervals by the graves of some who
had tried to follow the trail in winter, but otherwise barren of any other sign
of mankind. Plodding upon it was the traveler. Some way ahead of him, a saddled
horse methodically cropped the grass. Every few minutes it would wander a few
steps and return to eating, but those few steps were deceptively effective. The
gap between quarry and pursuer was growing no narrower. It certainly never
would, unless the horse was unlucky enough to catch its reins in a bush. There
were very few bushes. The wayfarer noted Rap’s approach and stopped to
wait for him, undoubtedly with relief. He flinched as the dogs bounded up, but
once they had sniffed him thoroughly and decided that he was not a wolf in
minstrel’s clothing, they wandered off to inspect the scents upon the
road.
Jalon
was garbed in the same brown cloak and oversize doublet he had worn when Rap
challenged him at the palace gate, and the same baggy hose.
“You
are a welcome sight, young man!”
Rap
returned the smile, slid from Bluebottle’s back, and eased his aching
legs. “It is a long walk to Pondague, sir. “
“You
think perhaps I should ride the horse?”
“It
would be quicker.” Obviously Rap had not been recognized, which was not
surprising, for men-at-arms did not wander the hills. He unhooked his grub bag
from his belt. “I was about to eat, sir, if you would care to join me?
Company with lunch would be a rare luxury. “
Jalon
glanced at his mount, which was pretending not to be watching but had noticed
Bluebottle. “I was going to do the same about an hour ago,” he
confessed, “but I forgot that a horse is not a harp, which stays where
you put it. “ Then his smile turned to alarm as he saw Bluebottle also
wandering off in search of lusher nourishment. “Have you not just made
the same mistake?”
Rap
shook his head. “He’ll come if I call. “
Now
Jalon had noticed more and was staring in disbelief. “No saddle? No
bridle? No reins?”
His
surprise was understandable. Rap squirmed slightly. “It was a wager, sir.
Some of the other men bet me that I could not ride herd all day like that.
Usually I use saddle and bit, sir. Except for very short journeys.”
The
minstrel, studied him for a few moments in astonished silence. “You can
control a horse without?”
“Most
of them. “ Rap felt more embarrassed than flattered. It was no great
trick, for the horses had known him all their lives.
Jalon
frowned. “Then can you call mine over? I have some royal provisions that
I shall be happy to share. “
Rap
nodded. “That one I can. Sunbeam! Come here!”
Sunbeam
raised her head and sent him a look of studied insolence.
“Sunbeam!”
She
twisted her ears a few times, bent for a few more mouthfuls to show that she
was pleasing herself, and then began to drift toward the men, nibbling as she
came.
“They
don’t like to be rushed,” Rap explained, but he did not have to
call again. In a few moments Sunbeam arrived and nuzzled his hand. He loosened
the saddle girths and tied the reins back out of harm’s way. Then he
detached the saddlebag and laid it down. He patted Sunbeam’s rump and she
wandered off to join Bluebottle.
“Incredible!”
Jalon said.
“Sir,
the way you sing is incredible. You must allow me a knack for
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