Two things that made me laugh in last chapter's reviews: The hate everyone always feels for my upperclassmen and putting the blame on the greasy beards xD Should my next meanie have a hitler-stashe? I don't remember if Salvin had a beard though, I know he didn't when younger in Matters, but the future segments... ... ...Crap, now -I- have to backread, meanies D:

Creep factor for the author: At Chapter 6 Matters had 29700 words (give or take) at Time's Pseudo-Chapter 6 it's already at 32600 (and some)... Booo!


Chapter Six

Taming Thunder

The sky stretched so high overhead shouldn't have had the impression on him that it did. He could deal with crowds, always had, but this was different. The dirt scattered around on the ground was familiar to him, the loud noises and yells of the people were something he knew. But the stink of animals was difficult to adjust too however, as were the clouds of dust kicked up by so many leather-bound feet. And the sky...

Like folded lengths of soiled cloth, he shouldn't have marveled at it, but he couldn't help himself. It was like walking through the laundering rooms in the depths of the castles, but near the kitchens so as to feed off of the warmth of the ovens. Thick bundles of wool and linens all hung to dry in the damp underground, if one hid under them all like he so often had as a small child, then that was what the sky looked like out here. Only instead of being just an arm's reach away, and reeking of threatening mold, the sky was untouchable, the air so clear it was cold in his lungs.

His serving socks were little better than the wraps around some people's feet as they shuffled down the boulevards and through the crowded thoroughfare. The variety of people was another odd shock to him; tall men in long coats would limber past them, the sort who looked to have sticks for legs as their knees gangling around them. Men dressed in dirty rags much too large for them would haul heavy bundles on their backs, following somber possessions of women in familiar castle livery. Children only a few years younger than they were bounded through the crowd with reckless abandon, occasionally a woman of fair nature coming across them and shrieking for them to return to their studying.

There were more soldiers like those they'd seen at the gates, just occasionally skulking through the crowded streets. No marches or flourishes, simply there and going about their business as quickly and quietly as they could. More than one would take to darting down allies however.

The dust was enough to blind, and he watched for a moment as Pegleg was forced to double down and hack violently as a particularly large gust caught him in the throat. Sneak had no wish to know what it was that was flung up at them from the wheels of a fast moving wagon.

Filthy pillars were caked with grime near four feet up their lengths, chipped and cracked along their tops as the boys passed under the crumbling vanities of the Empire. They had moved away from the checkpoints which led up the hill towards the castle- the monolith still looming ominously over them in the distance, a startling thought. It reminded Sneak of being stared down at by a nobleman unfortunate enough to catch him on one of the upper levels.

The markets were sparse for foodstuffs, but where there was plenty they had little trouble. A half dozen turnips, three potatoes, strip of dried meat, pat of hard cheese, a scarf, a whet stone for Sneak's knife, water-skin. Two cloaks that were much too long, so a handful of pins to hem them, a second rucksack, a roll of cloth for sleeping, flint stone for lighting, three candle sticks, and almost a second knife. He got caught and a swift knock over the head at the knife booth, otherwise, he managed to gather them up a goodly sum for their journey, all without spending another Rupee.

"A horse." They were sitting on the edge of a raised platform, an outdoor café with rickety tables and weather-worn banners. They were sharing a loaf of bread Sneak'd pilfered from a baker, the old man'd been shrieking with a customer so he'd made off with two. The larger, fresher one was in the pack over Whimper's back.

"Whaddya mean a horse?" Pegleg cooed, looking up at them from where he was sticking the pins into the rough brown wool of one of the cloaks. Whimpers had given it a go before and had gotten fed up; the Scribe had more patience for the handy work anyways.

"I mean we need a horse." He replied sharply, taking a swig from their new leather water-skin, and frustrating himself as he couldn't keep from dribbling some of it down his front like a baby. There had to be a trick to it… "Unless we want to go carryin' all this stuff; an' you're too slow to keep up anyways." Pegleg's back straightened visibly for a moment, but he thought better of whatever he had to say and knuckled back down to his work.

"We could… we could check Malo Mart…" Turning to look at Whimpers as he spoke up, it was mid-day already as he handed over the water for the other boy to take a drink from. He was grudging too admit it, but he'd only been able to pinch so much stuff because Whimpers not only knew the Market, but had distracted more than a few venders. Not that the boy'd known Sneak'd been going around behind him to make a grab the first few times, but he hadn't put up much of a fuss afterwards.

"What's Malo Mart?" He asked shrewdly, it was a name he'd heard before, but couldn't put his thumb on now.

"It's been around since forever." Sliding off the platform, Whimpers handed the skin to Pegleg before pointing across the crowded square where they were taking their break. There was a fountain several yards away from them, a broken symbol of the Kingdom spluttering water which they'd filled their skin from.

"That building with the baby posters?" Pegleg offered weakly, and surprisingly not to anyone's irritation. Sneak couldn't very well continue referring to Whimpers as the 'new boy' anymore, he clearly knew more about the city than they did, but it was hard to drop the habit so soon. Still, he turned to the cripple and nodded shortly.

"They sell horses?" Sneak cut in sharply, not wanting them to get to far off track. But Whimpers just kept on knocking.

"Slaves mainly, tha's why they 'ave tha' roundy-baby fer' a mascot." He felt cold to hear that bit of information, but swallowed any apprehension. If they sold horses, then they needed to go there.

"So we go..?"

"East, that way towards the other thoroughfare." Whimpers would point off across the square, one of the main boulevards funneling people down. There were more awnings over in that direction, stretching out from the buildings all the way up and along them.

"But it's right there." Pegleg argued weakly, but Sneak had expected him to. There was a building with baby-faced posters a lot closer than down that dusty lane, people actively dropping in and out with purses jangling and goods in hand.

"Tha's jus' their store front, don't keep no livestock in there." Whimpers answered moodily, Sneak was amused to hear the irritation in the other boy's voice. On his own turf, he didn't seem to like being questioned by the lame roundy. "Gotta go t' th' East Thoroughfare."

It took only a few more minutes of rest before Pegleg stopped his whining and picked up his stick. Their cloaks were still too long, but Sneak was more keen on eyeing the crowd for another peddler flaunting fire sticks than an old biddy with pins. If there was one thing they were going to need half as much as a horse it would be those spluttering little flames.

It was a long walk to reach the other thoroughfare. They passed down winding streets and tight alleys, Pegleg huffing and puffing along as though he were going to keel over dead from the exertion. Occasionally Sneak or Whimpers would have to stop and wait for the lame scribe, allowing him to catch up with them, or take a gulp of water before continuing on. They passed other fountains, less ornate than the one they'd lunched beside. Some spouted from building's bases with thin trickles of water, one or two were ornately made with women spiting the water from their mouths, or pouring it from jars. Always seats for washing women, and always old women and children running around or playing with it, ladies washing, gossiping, spitting at the ground or at the three grubby boys who wandered too close to them.

There were men with clothes of rags sitting under awnings of raw wool or thin cloth, protecting them from sun or rain or snow as the seasons passed. Whimpers looked at none of them, if anything he seemed to be smiling and at ease, but Sneak couldn't feel the same way. Had these people nothing better to do than sleep in the gutters? What was the point of their freedom if they weren't even going to work to better their own lives?

At one point, walking down one thinner ally, the three of them jumped suddenly when they heard a loud bang and scream from an upper window. It was a near-miss for Whimpers, who gave a yelp as Sneak grabbed his cloak and yanked him back. A pot shattered across the ground and spilt foul-smelling water across the dirt and tiles. There was a woman screaming and sobbing, a man's voice yelling loudly at her from up above. Pegleg had a poor look across his face, but the three of them simply hurried past the building and the rest of its block much faster than they had other lengths of ally.

It wasn't until Sneak's feet were beginning to ache and Whimpers had lost all colour that the awnings overhead made more sense than to simply provide cover for the jobless and infirm. Occasionally throughout the whole afternoon, the lull of a passing breeze would carry a foul stink if it came from between the awnings just right. Caked in grime and blackness, Sneak had noticed a sticky-sweet smell across each oiled stretch of fabric; they were there to keep down the dust and the stink. The tiling of the boulevards had faded in places, and now was gone completely. The relative quiet of the city was burned away with a drone like that of insects, or the Servant's wing at the height of activity.

Stone buildings gave way to wooden shacks and cloth roofs, the men became thinner, the women sharper and bitter, and the children seemed almost wild. Not a drop of water from any passed fountain was anything but yellowed and brown; the roads stank of decay and rotted food. Whimpers covered his nose with one sleeve sometimes, but otherwise wore through it, Sneak could feel himself gagging as he was more accustomed to the smells of burnt fat than festering flesh, and every few feet Pegleg would give a hoarse, worrying hack which would shake him from head to twisted toes.

The braying of animals and clod of hooves reached them as a deep undertone, the sun starting to redden in the sky as it was beginning its fall. The daylight would be gone in only and hour or two more.

"We'll get a good deal maybe," Whimpers choked at one point, and Sneak found himself copying the other boy, drawing his hood around backwards to hook it over his nose and chin. It was a poor substitute, the stench worse than the castle stables and the boys who cleared them. Like tiny hooks, the reek stabbed up his nose and made his eyes water. The sun was behind them was shining through awnings and casting ruddy golden panes through the dusty air. People's eyes seemed to glow, and if not for the sound of Pegleg's walking stick, it would've been impossible to keep tabs on him so far behind them. Sneak slowed just enough so that the lame boy wouldn't have to start calling out for them in the crowd.

"There, in here. Let's look here." He wasn't in the mood to argue, and reached out a hand waving for Pegleg to follow him as Whimpers darted on ahead. Warm light was spilling from an open building- out of place as it was of stone with a thatch roof, unlike its shack and shabby neighbors. Had dusk fallen so soon? Was the city truly so large as to take a day to cross?

Sneak didn't worry on it any farther than that, hadn't the time. He waited just long enough for Pegleg to catch up, grabbing the Scribe's arm and shouldering him roughly through the open door before following.

Inside it was warm, something Sneak was surprised to find, before he lifted one hand up to his own face and felt his cold skin. He knew he was reddening, but hadn't counted on winter's chill still holding true. There had been no clouds in the sky all day, he hadn't thought the brisk winds to be so cold, but clearly they were, since there was little more than two candles and a small fire to warm the room they stepped into. A long table- like Thuma's desk in the palace- was stretched along most of the room, dividing it into two parts, and Sneak felt his temper flare up a bit as the table was almost too high for him to see over. There were horse-shoes hanging from nails between the stone mortar on the walls, and enough space at the end of the table to walk around behind it. There was a heavy wooden door and a window of bubbled greasy glass behind the table.

"Well, well, lookit what we 'ave 'ere…" The man who was standing before them was a great beast as far as Sneak was concerned. His arms were wide as logs and covered in a sheer layer of black hair; a heavy mustache covered his lips and spilled into an unkempt beard. Black locks hung about his face as he turned his head around to them, ears hidden and leaving Sneak to guess at his lineage, though with colouring like that, he was most definitely foreign. And if he was foreign, those hidden ears were likely rounded along the tops. Poor soul.

"Master Lachlan!" Sneak blinked.

"Why, Authur! Is that you?!" The face under the mass of tangled black broke into a wide grin, and Sneak stood dumbfounded for a moment as Whimpers rushed forwards, planting his hands firmly on the table and vaulting himself up so as to stand atop it. Either Whimpers had shrunken, or the roof was much higher than Sneak had originally thought. He was so used to the low ceilings of the Servant's Wing and crawl spaces…

"Aye, Sir!" Whimpers wasn't… whimpering... In fact, he seemed downright chipper; speaking to the heavy-set man as though they were good and old friends. Smiling and laughing a little, it was obvious to a blind mute that the pair knew of one another, Whimpers had dropped himself down so as to sit on the high table, kicking his legs back and forth with his back to the other two boys. Sneak didn't know how he felt about all of this, but glancing back at Pegleg, the Scribe was just happy to be given a chance to rest against the doorway.

"Master Lachlan, y' wouldn't happen t' know how m' dad's been doin', would ya?" The large man seemed to give a bit of a start at that, and Sneak knew he was giving him a funny look. The man brought on soot-black hand up and twisted at sections of his matted facial hair, he looked troubled as he spoke.

"Now, now; Arthur. Lad, y'know better than that…"

"My mum then? She upstairs now? I can't smell any bakin' goin' on up there."

"Arthur…" This smelt funny… "This be a business, boy, not a half-way house… I thought you'd understand that…" Something wasn't adding up. He felt a shiver run up and down his spine, like one of the brisk winds from outside had found its way through his cloths and run across his skin. It was a creepy sensation, like feeling death at his neck, it was alike to the feeling he'd been having throughout the Master Scribe's funeral, that weak sense of dread. But this was stronger…

"Oi!" He snapped, unable to keep it in. Whimpers gave a start to hear his voice, the man's eyes snapping over towards Sneak as he could tell Pegleg was staring up at him dumbly. Fools…

"Keep yer focus you ninny." He said in a scathing tone. He didn't like where that conversation had been going. No, he wasn't going to keep the damned fool away from his darling mum if he wanted to go home that bad, but he wasn't gonna have that be the topic of discussion while the daylight faded and died around them.

Whimpers didn't seem to clue in on what exactly he meant, so Sneak gave a slight growl and stepped up.

"We're lookin' fer a ride." He stated clearly, watching as there was a strange look in the heavy man's eyes. "Y' wouldn' 'appen 'ave any horses for sale, would ya?"

"H-Horses?" He replied dumbly, and had there not been a table between them, Sneak would've given him a nasty boot to the shin.

"This be a stable, ain't it? We gots money; we wants a horse." That dumb look didn't fade, not completely anyways. "Well?" Fading… fading… almost gone and-

"Oh! A horse!" The dope, what, did he want a pat on the head now that he'd figured it out? "Right this way then, lads!" Sneak didn't hesitate to move through the gap between table and wall as the man ushered for them to come around. Pegleg gave a weak cry of exhaustion behind him, but lumbered on. Whimpers jumped down off the table on their side anyways.

"Finest horses in all Castle Town I 'ave 'ere!" Lachlan proclaimed loudly, leading them through the heavy back door with a harsh shriek of old iron. Beyond the doorway were several steps of tiled walkway, then a fence with a large pact-dirt courtyard. There was the ripe smell of animals back here, but Sneak forced himself not to gag as they were walked along towards the stables. Whimpers had mentioned an upstairs, but that must've been built somewhere out of sight. The courtyard wasn't empty, there was a second heavy-set man working in one of the stables, and that was the direction in which they were heading.

"What breed you be lookin' for then, lads?" The older man seemed to be enjoying himself greatly, but there was a coy air to his words that made Sneak scowl darkly. Did he think to mock them?

"Somethin' strong, Master Lachlan, it needs t' carry Pegleg here..." They were led down the far side of the courtyard towards the swinging doors of one wing of stables. There were a few muted curses coming from inside, hay strewn about as there were several stalls along both sides of the hall. The stable-hand had vanished, but Sneak paid it little mind, he was trying to scrounge up any knowledge he already had of horse-flesh. Considering how often Boss'd always talked about horses, he ought to've been able to remember something

"Strong, lots of endurance. Hardy, we'll be travelin' far." Sneak added, looking into the occasional stall as they passed. Half of them were empty, probably having died throughout the winter.

"Travelin'? Where to now?" Lachlan stopped and turned to look back at them as Sneak spoke up, and there seemed to be an air of suspicion about him again, that irritated Sneak… "You boys ain't goin' off inta trouble now, are ye? Arthur." He'd turn away from him and Pegleg again, looking towards Whimpers with a rather stern tone. "Arthur, lad. Your mum did say she put you t'work in the Castle. What're you doin' down in the city again? I would'a rather taken' ye' in as an apprentice a mine, but she said no t' that. Why you runnin' from the castle then?"

"W-we're not runnin'…" Too weak, he said it in a voice that was far too weak. Sneak couldn't help the rush of irritation at how guilty he sounded. Damn it all, his purse was still aching from paying the extra rupees for the miserable runt.

"Look, Old Man, we need a horse." He cut in again, growing tired of the guilty banter. "A good, strong horse that'll carry our bags an' our lame friend here all the way north. We got money, now show us somethin' t' buy." As if to put emphasis on what he was saying, Sneak reached for his pouch, tucked away in the bottom of his trousers, and jangled it appealingly. He knew the value of his money, he knew there was enough there for what they wanted.

The horse merchant didn't seem to agree with him however, his face clouding over darkly. "Now see here, Lad, you'd better be watchin' your mouth in another man's shop or I'll be-"

"Din's Blaze!!" The cry was difficult to hear, the terrified shriek of a horse cutting through the air as the clatter of metal rung out. Sneak didn't even think before reaching out for Pegleg behind him, and shoving the crippled boy out of the way even before the danger was upon them.

Wood splintered down the line of stalls, a pair of heavy white hooves shattering through the barricade as a beast of silver and gray barreled wildly down towards them and out into the enclosed courtyard.

"You! You be the Dark King's man, Hal! Catch 'er!" Sneak sat up, a wave of revulsion coming over him as he spat hay from his mouth -having no wish to know what that salty bitter taste was across his tongue!- he didn't remember being thrown down, but he had been, clearly.

"Din's Flaming, Flaming Blaze!!" A man came stumbling out of the shattered stall holding his head, but Sneak had no eye for him, watching as the white horse was stampeding across the courtyard, coming up to the fences around it with furious snorts and screams. It was a heavy-footed animal, tufts of hair around its hooves, it was nearly twice as tall as Sneak, and the ground seemed to shake as it continued its panic.

All three of them, Whimpers, Lachlan, and the other man- Hal- were shouting, but nothing was being done. He felt himself smiling, and noticed Pegleg giving him a shocked and very pale look.

"How much for that one!?" He shouted; getting their attention as Whimpers was staring white faced at the other man- built heavy and dark like Lachlan. The man had a splatter of red blood across his face from an ugly gash across his brow. He was lucky to have just that however; hooves like that looked like they could crush or cleave a skull with nary a thought.

"What!?" Why were they all shouting? The sound of the gate cracking had long since faded, Sneak was all but ready to holler back before realizing this, and spoke in a more proper tone. He couldn't keep back his excitement though…

"That horse, right there! How much?" All three of them looked at him as though he were… well, completely lost! A total loon he probably looked…

"What!? She's not broke yet, lad! You can't 'ave-"

"How do I break her?"

"What!?" Silence… Whimpers was just staring at him as though he really had gone loony.

"Sneak…" Coming up right close to him, Whimpers took him by the arm and spoke huskily to him, "T' break a horse means t' ride it till they ain't gonna throw you no more. Even I know that beast, let her be, let Hal catch her again an' us look at a different-"

"Chit." If possible, Whimpers' thin lips vanished entirely into a straight bitter line.

"Sneak-"

"Chit."

"Sneak, stop it-"

"Chit! Chit! Chit!" The other boy's eye was starting to get an amusing little twi-

"Alright, fine! That one!" Pegleg was whimpering.

"If you boys think you can tame that thunder-struck beast, ye can 'ave her!" The two men were standing there, mirrored in hair and build, perhaps they were brothers or cousins maybe. The one was still holding his head, blood drying across his face and sealing one eye shut with it, but aside from that they were twinned to one another completely. "Feed and strappings all included!"

Now that was a deal if ever there was one! Sneak could've clicked his heels in the air, his purse vanishing back into his britches as he grabbed Whimper's arm and yanked the other boy with him.

"Can't be that hard!"

"S-S-Sneak!!"

Despite his protests, Whimpers came with him with little enough fuss. He undid the pin keeping his cloak around his shoulders and tossed it across the fence, only to be mimicked by the other boy.

"H-have you got a plan..?" Thunder-struck he'd called the horse, well, he didn't know if that was accurate or not, but the beast was still snorting angrily at the dirt, pawing at it with her massive hooves. She was all silver and gray, mane and hoof-socks a silvery white colour that shone gold in the swiftly fading daylight. They were going to have to find some lodging for tonight, or spend it under one of those greased awnings.

"Get her attention; I'll get on her back." He answered shortly, giving the other boy an incredulous look.

"And then?" Whimpers was licking at his lips, white faced, but walking with him as they started coming up on the beast. They didn't have to gesture to one another, the two separating so as to move about to flank her.

"And then we break her."

"Sneak…" By the King's beard, he hated that whiny tone!

"Chit!" He hissed, and Whimpers' eye took on that irritated twitch he seemed to be getting a lot of.

All of it… was difficult to keep tabs of. Whimpers did as told though, the larger boy ducking forwards and around, and startling the white beast so as to kick up her front hooves and flail them dangerously. He hadn't any time to follow where Whimpers went to after that.

There was no saddle on the mare, something he hadn't taken into proper account before making this wager. He had almost no experience with the animals either, he'd spent more time beating on the Stable Boys than admiring the creatures they looked after in the Castle. Bucking and rearing as she was however, he'd seen it done in the courtyard during spring festivals. She went up, and he sprinted in as fast as he could, throwing himself at her back, trying to get his arms around her thick neck.

"Woah!!" He couldn't tell if it was Whimpers or Pegleg who gave a sluggish yell, or if they were all calling out at the same time. Not that the Scribe was involved at all, but still, he seemed the type to shriek out at the slightest sign of something gone awry.

His arms locked around the corded muscles of the mare's neck, and his face was smashed right into the spiny bristles of her sweaty hair. The stink made his nose wrinkle up in distaste, but he had hardly the time to worry about such a small detail. His legs were flying uselessly behind him, and he felt a yelp claw itself up his throat as his world seemed to be lashing back and forth without sense or signs of stopping.

"You'll kill us both!" The air rushed out of his lungs as speed overcame his senses, Sneak tried opening his eyes, but nothing but shimmers of golden sunlight and the creamy dun of the dirt courtyard came to him, the gray of stones and sheer white of the horse's mane. A pair of arms with a good deal more meat on them than his own locked around his mid-section, and his legs were pinned against the back of the panicking beast. They were both on her now, why wasn't she calming down!?

"Shut up, Chit!"


The horse was a Shire by the way. I wikied for a while to find the right 'look'. xD This was a very odd chapter to write, so sorry for the slips in the Narrative. Lachlan was like… an Anti-Muse for me.