Bride of War: Battles of Eyenwar, Book 2

Chapter 3- Hold Your Horses

I'm not one to waste time once I decide I want something. I'm finally getting a chance to go somewhere without the fear of being chased down by a power mad king possessed by the ghost of my crazy dead aunt.

Several horse breeders live here in Cantabrar. An entire section of the city has been transformed into stables that different breeders can rent seasonally. On warm days, herds can be seen being corralled in the grasslands outside the city walls. There is one particular breeder I've had my eye on for a while. Although I love my mare, she's been a bit moody lately. I don't think her coat is suitable for the heat of southern Cantabrar. I've been considering the idea of sending her back to Torrain once Garen choses an ambassador.

My usual guard accompanies me through the horse trader's stables. Garen insists they go with me anywhere outside the palace. At first I thought this was burdensome and unnecessary, but I soon noticed the disapproving looks some of the citizens give me. I wouldn't put it past them to be just a little aggressive if I weren't surrounded by men with weapons.

Some of the horse traders look at me with similar hostilities, and I quickly dismiss the thought of talking to them regardless of how impressive their horse stock may be.

I move through the stalls quickly, drawing all kinds of attention. It's unusual to find a woman in this part of the city, let alone one with skin as dark as mine and a train of guards trailing along after them. In an attempt to stand out a little less, I'm wearing a fashionable lady's riding frock that falls bellow my knees, as is considered modest and prudent here in Skevet.

Still, many of the horse traders look offended that I am here. Most have the pale skin and blond hair of native Skevetics, but a few have the flaming red hair of the northern Pyronoi islanders. That is, all but one man who stands out from the rest.

I notice him first because of his jet black hair. He is bent over a workbench covered in horse shoes and nails. I don't know what it is, but so,etching tells me that this is the stable I'm looking for. I signal my guards that I am stopping, and approach the bench. The man looks up, hearing me approach even among the noise of the dozens of stables full of horses.

His face is a pale as mine is dark, eyes like burning sapphires glitter from underneath dark eyebrows.

He's beautiful.

"Good morning." I greet pleasantly.

He dips his head, "Good morning your highness. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I would like to look at the horses in this stall. I'm only interested in your best stallions." I answer.

He appears bemused by my request, "of course my Queen, I'll show you myself."

"Forgive me, who might you be?"

He stands a bows, "Lorens C'thri, the current owner of this stables residents."

I almost blush at the beautiful man, "I would be honored to have you as my guide."

He nods graciously and motions for me to follow him further into the stable. One of my guards stands watch at the entrance while the other two accompany me inside.

"I have several stallions, but the best, in my opinion, is this one here." He stops in front of a stall a little larger than the rest. Inside is a bay stallion so red in hue that it looks as if fire ripples across his flank as he moves.

"He's amazing." I admire.

The closer I look, the more I realize I have never seen a horse quite like this one. He has a powerful chest, clearly built for battle. His legs are long, and his torso sleek. And his muzzle has the same flat, curved bridge as the desert horses.

I look a little closer, "at the risk of sounding a fool, what breed is he exactly?"

The man laughs, "A crossbreed, between the Skevetic warhorses and the wild horses of the Middle Desert. My grandfather was one of the last desert tribesman to migrate out of the desert. He brought a small herd of tamed wildlings with him when he came to Skevet. Our family has been known ever since as the only family to sell the breed anywhere in Eyenwar." He recounts with pride.

Adeline's father often told us stories of the tribes of the middle desert. They lived on the rocky earth at the edge of the narrow strip of waterless land between the southern mountains of Torrain and the green jungles of Kelpis. Starting four generations ago, the tribes started migrating out of the desert under the allure of increasing wealth and technologies in the surrounding countries. Two generations ago, most had been integrated into Torrain, Kelpis, or Skevet.

"How interesting. How many hands is he?" I wonder.

"16."

I nod sharply in approval, "I'll have to have him examined by someone with more experienced than I, but I believe we may have deal. Whatever price you have, we'll pay it."

"I see... Well is there anything else I can do for you?" He asks.

I have this insane desire to find an excuse to stay, to keep listening to this beautiful man. But I must represent several of the horse traders in Cantabrar. To chose one favorite, especially one of mixed blood, would not make me very popular.

"No, I don't believe I have anything more. Thank you, sir C'thri."

I turn to leave, but something holds me back.

"Actually," I turn around again, "could you perhaps recommend another horse trader to me? One you trust."

His bright blue eyes sparkle, "Is my performance not satisfactory my Queen?"

He is teasing me. I find myself both intrigued and annoyed by his forwardness.

"Respectfully, I am in need of some more... Traditional stock."

He raises an eyebrow, "more traditional stock? Or a more traditional trader?"

I elect not to answer such a prying and insinuating question, "I'll send someone by to look over the horse more thoroughly tomorrow."

I spin around, much more determined to leave this time.

"Flame."

The word surprises me. But I am determined not to face him again.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"The horse's name," he clarifies, "it's Flame."

I walk away, but I can't keep a smile from my face.