"Sorcerer's Son" - читать интересную книгу автора (Phyllis Eisenstein)

“Careful—you’ll fall off if you lean like that!”

Even as he spoke, she began to slip sideways. Cray called a warning and clutched at her leg as it went over the top of the saddle, but he missed it. He halted Gallant with a tug of the reins, then ducked under the horse’s neck to see what had happened. Sepwin was just setting the child down on the ground. She was gripping his rag bandage in one dirty hand.

“You said it didn’t look nice,” she said in an accusatory tone.

“Don’t you think so?” he muttered, jerking the rag away from her. He kept his left eye tightly closed as he swiftly fastened the rag in place once more.

“No,” she replied. She looked up at Cray. “Thank you for the ride,” she said, making a little curtsey, and then she ran to join her playmates, to whisper and giggle with them.

The brawny man returned with a small brown horse, which he displayed to Cray

proudly. “Not old at all,” he said, prying the animal’s mouth open to show the teeth.

Cray, to whom the horse’s teeth meant nothing, surveyed the animal and found nothing particularly wrong with it. “This looks to be a reasonably good animal.”

Sepwin tugged at his sleeve. “This animal is older than you are, Master Cray.”

“Oh? How can you tell?”

“The teeth. The pattern of the teeth.”

Cray looked at his companion. “So you know horseflesh?”

“A little, sir. My father raised some.”

“Good, then you can pick your own mount. Here comes another offer, if I’m not

mistaken.”

A second man approached, the tallest of the three, leading a horse whose dark coat was flecked with gray. Sepwin walked all around the animal, looked into its mouth, picked up its hooves one at a time and examined them. “Not bad,” he said.

The third animal arrived shortly, a dark one with a white blaze on the forehead. Its back had a distinct slump in the middle. Sepwin looked it over, then looked at the others again. “Take the roan,” he said at last, indicating the second animal.

Cray nodded. “Have you a saddle for it?” he asked its owner.

“This is a plowhorse,” the man told him. “She’s never known a saddle.”

“Has she ever been ridden?” asked Sepwin.

“Oh, the children ride her all the time. And I have, too. She’s gentle as a lamb, you’ll see. She won’t give you any trouble.”

“Give me a blanket to throw over her back and I’ll ride her,” said Sepwin.

“The blanket will cost you extra,” said the man.

Cray laughed. “I’ll give you a copper penny besides the silver, if it’s a good blanket.”

“Oh, the best, my lord, the very best,” he said, and he called a name toward the group of children who were whispering nearby. A small boy answered, whom Cray guessed was his son, ran to him, received orders to fetch a particular gray blanket, and scampered off to obey. The lad returned in a few moments with a heavy woollen bundle which his father unrolled and threw over the horse’s back. In return for a silver coin and a copper one, the man handed the animal’s reins over to Cray, who passed them on to Sepwin.