Chapter 237 - 235: Bad Horse.

Chapter 237: Chapter 235: Bad Horse.

So while Montrel seems happy enough that Khobi can keep his horse some company while he skives off down in the city, Gandy’s right in that swordsman or not, the grooms will absolutely not let him do anything that might harm a hair on any horse’s head.

​An insistent nose presses up into his chest and Khobi absentmindedly offers the mare a pat, wondering how long they’ll be.

Since there was no official training for the next couple of days on account of so many soldiers gearing up for trips out across the field, the ones he kept company with had arranged to head down into the city proper to spend some gold.

On proper things like fresh armour, winter cloaks, and new gear for their horses this time instead of booze and women.

It had seemed like it would be right up Rogard’s alley, but apparently he ’already had plans’, which had been kinda confusing since the only people he made plans with were them.

​" I have other friends ," was what he’d huffed, when Montrel had pointed that out over dinner the night before.

​He’d been most offended with Khobi had asked who ?

​It had sounded like they’d be out for most of the morning, if not most of the day so Khobi’s not sure what he’ll do until they get back, particularly if Rogard’s out, too.

If there’s no one keen to spar –and most of them aren’t, on their off days –then he might make his own lunch.

Something different, that he doesn’t usually have the time to make for himself.

​It’s a cheerful thought, and as Montrel’s horse munches merrily on her breakfast, he daydreams of all the recipes he still hasn’t gotten a chance to flex.

Maybe something to share? A lot of the soldiers he spends his time with know that he cooks, but most of them haven’t ever tried anything he’s made.

In fact, he’s pretty sure that asides from Binny and the other servants, the only person he’s ever cooked for is Loac.

​I should cook for them all one day , he thinks, and while he’s a little embarrassed by the thought, it does sound nice.

​Montrel’s horse is just finishing off her bucket when Khobi hears a commotion from deeper into the stable.

A couple of grooms scatter at the sound, and when Khobi looks over he’s startled to see the enormous head of a giant black stallion swing over the stall gate and into view.

​Loac’s horse .

​Strange that it’s here actually; that stall’s usually empty. In all the times Khobi’s been down here with Montrel, he’s only seen a handful of times –he just figured that the prince’s horse usually hung out in a fancier stable somewhere else within the castle.

​The stallion stamps, impatient, and the grooms nearest eye it warily. A couple of the servants make themselves look particularly small as they scuttle on past, laden under all sorts of equipment Khobi doesn’t recognise.

​"Hey, hey what are you making a fuss about?" a familiar voice complains from the shadows beyond, and Khobi balks as Loac’s shape appears in the gloom, footsteps muffled on the straw and a bucket not unlike the empty one at Khobi’s feet swinging from one hand.

He doesn’t seem to have spotted him. "I’ve got your breakfast right here."

​The horse whickers, tossing his mane at the sight of the bucket, but as Loac draws close he quietens, and when his hand reaches out to stroke the beast’s long nose, he’s as docile and gentle as a lamb.

​"See, what’s the problem?" Loac chuckles, and Khobi has to be imagining the small smile that plays at the edges of his lips, because the Loac he’s familiar with just doesn’t wear expressions like that.

The horse leans down to butt his nose against his chest, and Loac runs a hand down the side of the horse’s face and chuckles, eyes uncharacteristically soft.

"What’s this?" he hums, voice touched with something that Khobi can only call affection .

It’s a jarring contrast to the Loac he sees on the daily and he’s not quite sure what to make of it. "Did you miss me?"

​The horse whickers gently, nuzzling into his master’s touch, and Khobi feels the strangest need to avert his eyes; like he’s intruding on something private.

He figures it’d probably be best if he got out of here; he’s starting to get hungry, too. But Montrel’s mare seems to have a mischievous streak of her own because as he bends to pick up her empty bucket and make a hasty exit, she butts him and sending him staggering with a clatter.

​Loac’s eyes immediately snap to him.

​"Wow, what was that for?" Khobi complains, grateful that he managed to catch himself before he spilled onto the floor.

Being covered in straw and horse dung wasn’t exactly how he’d planned on starting his day.

The mare conveniently ignores his ire and whinnies in delight, prancing in place like they’re playing some sort of game. One that she seems convinced she’s just won.

​"What are you doing with Montrel’s horse?" Loac demands coolly, expression instantly hardening back to one that Khobi recognises.

He’s a little relieved; he’s not sure he could’ve handled Loac looking at him with that that other kind of face.

​"Giving her breakfast," he huffs defensively, and gives the mare a betrayed look for trying to knock him flat. And after all the treats he’s given her! "Or I was ."

​"Do you know what you’re doing?" Loac snorts, apprehensive.

​"I do!" Khobi splutters back, "...Mostly." Loac makes a skeptical noise that instinctively gets Khobi’s hackles up, but the jabs he was expecting don’t come.

​"Eh, she’ll tell you if you’re doin’ something wrong. She’s a good girl," Loac comments offhandedly, then addresses his own horse with a chuckle as he offers him the bucket, "Unlike you . Heard you scared some of Gurdet’s men."

He says it like it’s a compliment, and the horse tosses his mane like he’s pleased with the praise and then tucks into his breakfast.

Now that he’s occupied, the grooms unclench, breathing a sigh of relief as one. They don’t entirely relax, though.

From the way Binny and Montrel describe him, this horse was as changeable as the seasons.