Chapter 9
The immense relief of finally being out of the wild storm and being able to breathe normally again made the strange place they were in not feel so completely unnerving. The girl barely noticed as the stable doors swung silently shut behind her and her mount.
For a moment or two they both just stayed there in the cobblestone hall of the stable, in a sort of exhausted daze, blinking rain from their eyes, as the water ran down their bodies in little rivers, pooling on the stone. The storm wasn't so loud from in here. It seemed rather distant.
The girl finally dismounted, slowly. . .grunting slightly in pain as her bruised feet hit the ground, and her horse blew loudly through his nose, scenting the air warily. With one hand on her horse's mane to help hold herself up, she limped down the hall leading him, leaving dark little puddles everywhere.
There was a lantern. . .two, rather. . .hanging from each side of the hall, right beside a large stall that looked like it had been prepared only a few moments ago. The straw on the floor was thick and deep, perfect for taking the strain off her exhausted horse's legs, with a bucket of water in the corner and the hayrack filled to the brim with what looked like perfectly cured grass hay. And judging by the sweet scent hanging in the air, it was wild hay. The type all brush farmers in Prydain (her own family included) used for their stock and arguably the best around. The kind her mount liked best.
Her horse immediately started toward it but she pulled him back, making him blow angrily.
"I'm sorry, boy, but I've got to get you out of that soaking equipment and get you dried off,"
The girl murmured softly to him, making him flick his ears back to listen. With a soft snort he followed her to the hitching post a few feet down the hall, where he stood quietly, ground-tied, as her freezing, stiff fingers fought bitterly with the slippery leather. It took nearly twice as long for her than it usually did to get the saddle and accessories off and lay them on an equipment rack that had seemingly appeared from nowhere in the room beside her. She guessed it was the tackroom, judging by the various leather repairing kits and all types of cleaning solutions lined up on the shelves in neat rows.
The barn was warm, not allowing any harsh wind or rain to come in, but she was still shivering in cold from the wet clothes sticking to her body as she tossed a large towel over her shoulder and grabbed the grooming kit sitting on the tackroom table and went back into the hall. Her horse was still where she'd left him, looking exhausted. But there was something in his eyes that suddenly made her skin crawl.
Her horse's head was up, staring deep into the shadows the lanterns cast in the far ends of the barn, breathing deeply in and out, snorting softly as his ears swiveled everywhere, straining to catch anything that moved. He turned his head briefly to acknowledge her presence as she limped up to him, before returning his attention to the shadows. She had not left him him like this. The girl's chest tightened fearfully and she touched her horse's shoulder for comfort as she gripped the handle of the small grooming chest.
'Someone else is in here!'
She thought, trying to keep her panic to a minimum. Images flashed through her head of monsters hiding in the darkness, just waiting for her to turn her back on them. She fought down a shudder. Her mother always told her never to read scary stories after dark, and now she regretted those late-night reading parties she had held with the animals in the barn with a lantern back at home. Her horse had always been there to comfort her if she got scared of her own imagination, but this was not a book. This was very real, and the girl realized with a jolt that it was almost as if she had been expected here.
The freshly prepared stall, complete with her mount's favorite hay, the equipment racks, grooming equipment. . .the towel. She had been so drugged by exhaustion and relief at finding a dry place for the night she hadn't given any of it a second thought.
'They knew I was coming!' She thought fearfully. 'I was expected!'
The scenario she had found herself in suddenly seemed very familiar. Getting lost at night, coming to a strange place where she was seemingly expected, she remembered this story and she did not like the ending, where the unfortunate traveler got their blood drained from them. . .
'Stop! Its only your imagination, don't panic!'
Her mind told her, and she fought to keep from losing it then and there.
'Your only imagining things, you've been reading too many books, you *must* calm down and think rationally!'
'I *AM* thinking rationally!'
She mentally screamed at herself. Suddenly, the idea of saddling the horse straight back up and heading back out in the storm again to fight her way home in it didn't seem like such a bad idea at all.
A loud boom of thunder outside made she and her horse both jump. Glancing at his face, the girl noticed again how completely exhausted he was. She couldn't ask him to travel anymore, especially not now. It would not be fair, after teasing him with the prospect of rest. She knew he would go for her till he dropped, and he looked to be on the verge of it now. Despite his alertness, there was exhaustion in every move he made.
'I can't treat my friend that way,' she thought. 'He's worn out. I have to stay, for his sake. We'll leave first thing in the morning.'
Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her thoughts. This could easily all be just a big coincidence her own consciousness had made up. For all she knew, whoever owned this place was waiting on someone else to come back, and someone had laid out everything she was now taking advantage of. The servants were probably so startled to see a complete stranger walk in instead of the person they were expecting that they had all hid, fearing the worst. They were probably more afraid of her than anything. Yes, that was a completely logical explanation. Swallowing nervously, she spoke to the shadows.
"Hello?"
She called, wishing her voice didn't sound so loud in the abnormally quiet building. Hearing nothing, but sensing the tension in the room build, she tried again.
"I'm. . .truly sorry to crash in on you like this, but I got lost in the storm and I don't know where I am."
She tried not to cringe at how painfully pathetic her voice sounded.
"My horse is exhausted and can't go on right now. I truly didn't meant to intrude, but I don't have anywhere else to go and I need a place to rest for the night. I hope you didn't mean these things for someone else that will need them. (here she gestured weakly at the stall and things in her hand with her free one) "I-I promise to leave first thing in the morning."
There was still no reply, but for some reason the silence didn't seem so agitated as before. Her horse had relaxed considerably since she started talking, and now he nuzzled the box in her hands. Rubbing his face with her free hand, she carefully set the box down and selected a sweat-scraper.
After staring at the shadows a bit longer, she held her breath and turned her back on them. After a few moments of working the water out of her horse's coat she slowly relaxed, figuring that if they were going to attack her they would have done so already.
Turning her full attention back to her horse, who seemed happier now that she was working on him, she used the flat piece of metal brush to squeeze the excess rain water out of his coat. He had always been a glossy, beautiful horse, but soaking wet in the lantern light made him practically glow with all the radiance of black Cassiterite, the bright silver sheen over his coat reflecting the light even more, making him resemble an earthbound star.
The girl smiled as she tossed the scraper back in the box and used a wide-toothed comb to tackle the rat's nest of thick, lacquer-black mane that fell to the bottom of the horse's wide chest. Starting at the ends she carefully worked the knots loose and combed her way up, working out burrs and twigs that had gotten snagged in it over the course of the night. The horse cocked a hind leg in contentment, enjoying the attention he was getting.
After several long minutes she had combed it all out and squeezed what little excess water remained out of it with the towel. It was already starting to dry and curling back to its original shape.
Pausing a minute to empty the comb of a thick black mustache-looking thing that had accumulated in its teeth, the girl took a moment to glance around the stable some more. It seemed to be intended for an awful lot of horses. ('But then again, what royal stable isn't?' She thought to herself.) The hall was very long and wide, with stalls and other rooms branching off it as far back as the light allowed her to see. There was a ladder a little ways down, no doubt leading to the loft, but other than that, nothing more.
Tossing the matt of hair to the floor, she ran her hand firmly down her horse's back and over his rump, murmuring a soft word to him before scooping up a fistful of his tail and pulling it to the side in standard procedure, before beginning to comb it out too. He had never kicked at her before while she did this, but it paid to be cautious, regardless. Particularly in a strange place in the middle of a thunderstorm in the dead of night with possibly who-knows-who-or-what watching you from every corner.
His tail took much longer than his mane, considering there was a lot more of it, and being long enough to generously brush the ground, was subject to more abuse. She praised him softly as she worked, letting him know she appreciated him behaving so well. She would have turned him in to eat already but he didn't like his mane, tail or legs being messed with while he ate. Frankly she didn't blame him.
The girl hummed softly to herself as she emptied the comb again and sponged and combed the mud, burrs and tangles out the thick black feather her horse sported around his feet. Even for one of his type, the feather was very long and thick and even harder to keep clean than his tail. Starting just below his knee and hock joints and brushing the ground, it required constant attention. She thanked her stars she had finally trained him out of trying to stomp the unlucky person assigned to groom his legs.
The combing finally finished, she used the damp towel to wring as much water as she could out of his tail and feather, although most of it was on the floor now instead of him. Getting the hoofpick she cleaned out his hooves and gave him a quick, thorough wipe-over with the soft brushes, making sure to clean all the places where the equipment sat and eliminate any dirty areas she may have missed. After easing the bridle out of his mouth, she gave a little extra time to his face, letting him close his eyes in contentment and rest his head lightly on her shoulder as she worked. Leaving him for a moment, she went back into the tackroom to dispose of the bridle, grooming box and now-soaked towel, stretching it over a rack to dry, before taking his mane and leading him gently to his stall.
"Alright boy, its supper-time. You've earned every bit of it," she told him.
His eyes lit up at the stall and he eagerly walked past her and into the deep straw, plunging his muzzle deep into the water bucket and taking huge gulps of the delicious liquid. Leaning against the doorframe she watched him, feeling more relaxed than she had all night.
After her horse had nearly emptied the large bucket of its clear contents he turned and found the trough full of oats, complete with apple slices. The girl limped over to him and checked the feed cautiously, but the oats were first rate. The apples were good too, and she popped a piece in her mouth that wasn't covered in horse drool.
That little action reminded her sharply of how hungry she was. Her stomach had been growling all night but she had ignored it, too busy with her horse to pay attention. But it reminded her now and she cringed when it grumbled again.
Something caught the corner of her vision and she jumped, turning quickly to see it. The door at the end of the barn, the same one she had entered through to escape the storm from, was standing wide open.
The girl suddenly felt very chilled. Whether it was the cool, damp night wind, or her wet clothing, her fear, or all three, she wasn't quite sure, but she knew that doors that sturdy didn't just open by themselves. As she stared into the blackness of the doorway, she suddenly realized she couldn't see any rain falling.
Limping cautiously to the door frame, she got just close enough to risk a peek outside. The night was pitch black, and there seemed to be nobody there, but her common sense told her otherwise.
Sure enough, it wasn't raining anymore at the moment, but the wind was hard as ever and she knew this was only a lull in the storm. Again, the urge to saddle up and take off again into the night before the storm hit again was nearly overwhelming, but she told herself that her horse was too tired to go any further tonight and she was too. This lull wouldn't last very long, anyway.
Suddenly, a light flickered in the darkness, way across the courtyard, dipping and bobbing in the wind. The girl cautiously watched it for a moment as the cold wind and her soaked clothing made her shake harder and rub her arms. Sitting next to a fire with a cup of hot tea sounded so good right now. . .she stared at the light, more out of absence than anything else, as it swung back and forth. If it was a servant coming to the barn they were really taking their time. Back and forth, back and forth, it looked almost like it was waving to her.
'Waving. . .'
She straightened up suddenly as a thought came to mind, watching the light more closely now. It wasn't moving in time to the wind gusts. It was actually waving at her. She suddenly felt something, almost like a voice on the wind, calling her. It wasn't exactly audible but she got the same feeling as she had before when she felt someone in the stable with her. They wanted her to follow them. And she wasn't sure it was a good idea.
She uncertainly looked back into the barn, and then back to the light. A light drizzle of rain splashed her arms and face, and she made up her mind. Limping back inside, she grabbed her saddlebags and a lantern, blowing the other one out. Her horse looked up from his oats as she passed his stall and pricked his ears at her. With her free hand she rubbed his muzzle gently.
"Well boy," she said softly, "I really don't want to leave you, but I really need to get warm before I catch a cold. They want me to go to the castle. Hopefully to get warm. If I don't come back in the morning you know what to do."
She brushed his thick forelock out of his eyes and kissed his nose, before reluctantly walking to the door. As she turned to shut it, she saw her horse's head anxiously watching her disappear.
"Its alright, Mitternacht, I'll see you in the morning."
She reassured him, before shutting the door. Trying to fight down the sudden uneasiness she felt at the sensation of a wall between them, she headed toward the swinging light as the thunder rumbled ominously.
