Paksworld

Part VII

The horse walked over calmly as Kieri led it.  At the Crown Prince’s prompt, he pointed to the curb chain, which they agreed was correct, and then put it in the position he’d found it.  They nodded, then put it back.

“The saddle?”

“May I take it off completely?”

“Of course.”

Kieri showed the underside of the saddle, to all appearances, ordinary for a Tsaian war saddle.  But Duke Marrakai frowned and turned to his son.  “That’s not his saddle, is it?”

“No, sir.  His was being re-flocked and the groom said this one, Blink’s saddle, would fit well enough.”

Kieri laid the saddle on the horse’s bare back and felt under it.  “It’s wide enough and not too wide…this side has contact, no lumps.”  He went to the off side.  “It’s…my lord Duke, would you feel this?”

The Duke ran his hand between horse and saddle.  “Well.  Take it off; I’ll feel his back.”  Kieri took the saddle down, then moved behind the horse to look along the spine.  He could see what he’d felt. Uneven muscle development meant the saddle would pinch here where it did not on the near side.  “That’s why his own saddle was being restuffed,” the Duke said.  “And that–and the curb–is why he started bucking.”

“If there is a saddler with the army,” Kieri said, “He should be able to restuff this today, and then adjust after a ride.”

The Crown Prince looked at him.  “My saddler is with us.  But you, could you ride him without that?”

“I could, but it would be uncomfortable for the horse.  I can sit differently, take some of the pressure off, but not all.”

“Try.  A few minutes only; I want to see and so does the Duke.”  A sharp glance aimed at the Duke, who nodded.

Kieri saddled, accepted a leg up from his sergeant, and picked up the reins.  The stallion came up into his hand, flexing correctly; he could feel the horse react to a different seat.  Walk, easy.  Trot, no shaking head, no hollow back. Turn this way, turn that, halt, back.

“A short canter only, heart lead, I think,” said the Duke.  Kieri nodded, asked for it from walk, and the horse bent to it and bounded off correctly in the first stride, bent away from the side that needed a little more room. “Who taught you riding?”

“Aliam Halveric’s horsemaster and Aliam himself, when I was his squire,” Kieri said.  “And then, in Falk’s Hall, we learned saddle fitting and bitting as well as advanced riding.”

“Such as?”

Kieri named the figures they’d been taught.  “But this fellow needs more training before he’s ready.”

“Agreed.” Duke Marrakai turned to the Prince.  “I yield to your judgment, my lord prince.”

“Well, Kirgan,” the Prince said, turning to the boy, standing pale and miserable before them.  “This man you do not respect rode your horse better than you do, and with more concern for the horse.  What do you say for yourself?”

“I was wrong.”  The voice sounded even younger, choked even. “I–I trusted others and should have trusted my father first, to know I needed an older, quieter horse.”

“Well, then, I have a plan for you, so you do not waste your opportunity to learn.  You will not ride your horse for five days, during which its saddle will be restuffed and adjusted until the saddler’s satisfied, and during which you will walk with Captain Phelan’s cohort. You will watch the saddler do the restuffing, and he and Captain Phelan will instruct you in saddle fitting.  You will observe how Captain Phelan handles the horse, how he tacks it up, how he cares for it, and you will take over from him when he permits.  You will then–until we are within a league of the Pargunese border–listen and learn from him, what you may be doing as a rider that makes the horse uneasy.  It is my command that Captain Phelan report to me and to your father any errors you make that may injure this or other horses, and by the time we reach Pargun, you should be far advanced in your horsemanship.  Do you agree?”

What was there for a boy to say but what he said?  “Yes, my lord Prince.”