My heart smote me. Unfaithful.
Unfaithful to whom?
Horse. I am sorry. I did not mean to start this. This is not a good bond for me.
I am not “horse.” I am Fleeter.
I held stillness. She did not.
I have waited for you for a long time. Five humans have claimed to own me, but none did. And all of them, I think, knew that. Why else would they sell me for money, as perfect a mount as I am? They could not buy my heart and so they sold me again and again. And then you saw me and in that moment, you knew I was for you. In two strides you claimed me and we both know that was right and is right. Do not say to me that you can undo what is done.
I guarded my thoughts. I did not want this attachment. There could not be this attachment. I groped within me for my wolf, for Nighteyes, but nothing stirred. I sat on her back as still as if I were a sack of grain. I thought of everything else. How far I would travel before I pushed her into a gallop. I reviewed my mental map of where I would leave the king’s highway and go cross-country to Salter’s Deep. I’d memorized that bit of the map and hoped it was accurate. I was fairly certain the roan could handle a long cross-country gallop. If I was wrong—
I can. For a time, I was used as a hunter’s mount.
I began a meticulous catalog of the weapons I had selected. I had tried to provide for every exigency. Sword and knife. A dust poison that could be flung. One suitable for poisoning food if the opportunity presented itself. Six tiny darts tipped with a very potent poison. A sling. I wondered if I could hit anything with it; I hadn’t practiced in years.
I am your best weapon. The man who trained me was like you. He refused me. I was young then, and did not know there were three other horses he spent just as much time with. They were all stallions. His friends mocked him for training me, saying I would never learn the kicks and jumps. That only stallions know how to fight. He proved them wrong. And he collected the wagers and before the summer was over, he sold me.
How does a horse know of such things as wagers? The thought escaped me before I could quell it.
She tossed her head, taking a bit more of the reins. I gave it to her. What do you think stable boys do when they are waiting for their orders? They roll bones and shout and pass coins. And that was what I was to the man who trained me to fight. Bones to roll.
I felt a pang of sympathy for her. Horse, we can be—
Fleeter. I am not “horse” nor “roan.” I am Fleeter.
Fleeter. I accepted the name reluctantly, felt the binding go tighter as I did so. We can be friendly with each other. But I am not seeking—
What is your name?
I breathed out slowly.
I feel the shape of it in how you think. Must I guess it?
I heard the sound of galloping hoofbeats behind us. Horses. More than two. Move to the side of the road and be unworthy of notice. Even before I tugged the reins, Fleeter had moved to the side of the road and slowed. She was too swiftly becoming attuned to me. Setting her aside from me was like trying to be rid of a feather with honey-sticky fingers.
So you are Changer?
No. This can’t be allowed. I blocked myself from her.
I thought the riders would be messengers or lads out for a gallop. When I glanced back furtively and saw Perseverance bearing down on me, leading a saddled and riderless horse, my heart sank. Priss. Bee’s horse. I did not recognize the second rider until they drew closer. Then I was shocked and almost angry to see Lant. As he reined in his mount beside me, he was pale, his face drawn with pain. Could there possibly be any more problems for me today? “You should be recovering, not taking a horse for a gallop,” I greeted him. I tried to keep my words bland before Perseverance.
Lant’s expression went sour. “And should not you be at Buckkeep, preparing to ride out tomorrow with your guard?”
There were a hundred possible lies to answer that question. The most believable would be to say that I was limbering my horse and myself for tomorrow’s long ride.
“I’m going after my daughter,” I said. “Now.”
He stared at me, then gave a tight nod. “And Lady Shine,” he added.
I looked at Perseverance. He met my glare calmly. “Lady Bee will wish to ride her own horse home.”
Fleeter resumed her pace, and the others fell in on either side of us. I itched to ask but waited.
Lant gave in first. “I went to visit Lord Chade, to let him know I’d be leaving tomorrow morning. It is my habit to visit him at least once every day, even when he is incapable of reasoned conversation, and I did not wish him to think that I was abandoning that courtesy. Today, he was rational for a short time. He asked me to recount our conversation. When I did, he told me I’d best make my way to the stables right away if I was to catch up with you.”
