I blinked when his words stopped, so engrossed was I with the differing shades of light and dark blue in his gaze.
“The pony will just get worse if we don’t rest him,” I whispered.
“I know, and I got a sadness for the poor beast, but life ain’t always easy and it ain’t always genteel. Now, wrap his hoof, will you, Beiro?”
He had spoken my name. By the goddess, I wished I could read the minds of higher beings! What was he thinking when he spoke to me so kindly, so softly…
“I wish you would let him rest.”
“I wish we could. Now wrap the pony, boy-o. Time ain’t our friend.” With that, he exhaled, his breath rich with strong cheese, dried apple slices, and warm ale they had broken their fast with. The ale had been tart, heavy with the taste of yellow cherries and pink peaches, frothy. Quite good. I had sipped at it and then had a small cup to wash down the dried apple slices and cheese. Now I wanted more ale but from his fat lower lip…
“If he comes up worse, that fault lies with you,” I replied and got a nod of a bushy black head.
“I’ll bear that burden.” With that, he gave my neck a squeeze, released me, and rose. The others were locked in place as if frozen by an evil spell. Asdren turned to look at his underlings as I sat on the ground like a toadstool. “You three, saddle up. We’re going to reach the first southern plateau by midday then break so Chirp can check on the pony’s hoof. No bitching either.”
He strode off. I wet my lips, unsure if my legs would hold me up. Newt gave me a nudge, soft muzzle into the back of my head. Empty head it was, for I had gained nothing from that encounter than a stiffness in my breeches and a sudden craving for more ale. The call of my raven broke the spell I’d been under. Leaping up, I felt the eyes of the three Sable Legion underlings on me. Surely they felt I had failed in standing up to Asdren. And they would be right. Next time I made a demand, I wouldnottumble into blue eyes framed with thick black lashes. I would speak to him with my eyes closed!
