Chapter 7. Ahhh! It's been way too long. Sorry, no excuses, here's the next chapter.
Disclaimer: The people and places in this story belong to Tamora Pierce. Some of the events come from the first book of her Lioness series, Alanna: The First Adventure.
Francis was sure of himself for the first few steps. He knew what he needed to do and it was as simple as that. It was his duty to tell the Duke about the girl masquerading as a page; just as it was his duty to explain that this was why he had managed to spill soup all over the Training Master's wife.
However, as he made his way through the stables the voice of doubt whispered in his mind. Was he sure he really wanted to be around Duke Gareth at the moment? Was he sure he wanted to betray his friend?
"He's not my friend! He betrayed me, he's a liar. He's not even a he!" Francis exclaimed out loud in response to the part of himself that hesitated. Horses whinnied sleepily at the sound of his voice.
But had Alan really ever lied to him, besides omitting the fact that he was a girl? Alan had been a good friend to him during these weeks of training. And he'd more than proven himself hadn't he? Alan, girl or not, worked harder in training and studies than most of the other boys there. What right did Francis have to take away his, her, chance at knighthood?
Confused, and angry at his confusion, Francis kicked a nearby sack of feed with an anguished cry. He shouldn't have to be worrying about this!
"I supposed that bag of feed had wronged you somehow. I've been told they can be down right quarrelsome."
Francis spun around and found that his teacher Sir Myles lay strewn in a pile of hay, examining the sky above him through a hole in the roof.
"Sir Myles!" he stammered, "I didn't know anyone else was here. Forgive me."
"Nothing to be forgiven, Francis, we all have our moments, we merely try to avoid having them in front of others."
Francis nodded, but couldn't help noticing the way he slurred his words together. Sir Myles was known for his love of good wine and he wondered if perhaps he had consumed too much.
"Sir," he asked uncertainly, "Uh, what are you doing here?"
His teacher laughed contently, "I had hoped to visit with Stephan, but he seems to be elsewhere." He stood up clumsily. "Francis, would you mind walking an old man back to his rooms?"
Francis bowed, "Of course sir. As a page it is my duty, there's really no need to ask."
As they began to walk, Myles replied, "I've found I make more friends with requests than orders."
They crunched across the straw-covered floor of the stables for a time in silence, Francis still brooding about what to do about Alan. He had been rash in planning to tell the Duke right away. The best idea was to let time tell how he should react.
Francis jumped slightly when he heard Sir Myles' voice beside him.
"I'm sorry, what did you say sir?"
"I asked you what you are upset about tonight, first the incident with the duchess, and then with your tussle with the feed bag." Myles said. Francis couldn't help but notice that Myles did not seem as drunk as he had first assumed. His eyes were bright and his stride was steady.
Francis ducked his head, acutely aware that his teacher was asking him about his personal life. "Just problems with my friends."
"May I ask which one? Your group always seemed very close. It isn't Raoul is it?"
For the court drunk, Sir Myles always seemed to know a lot about what went on in the palace. He hesitated, and then said, "Not, not Raoul sir, it's Alan."
Sir Myles chuckled. "Interesting lad. Not like everyone else, is he? Well I hope you work it out. He seems to be of the good sort."
They had come to the far end of the stables. This was where the sick, old, and dying horses were kept. It was also where the head holster, Stephan kept his room. He said that these horses needed extra attention and he preferred to keep them near him. When they reached the last stall before the stable door, Sir Myles stopped.
"I've heard you know a great deal about horses. Perhaps you could answer a question for me. I've walked by this stall for a couple of weeks now, and my curiosity has finally gotten the better of me. Why is a fine horse like this kept apart from the others?" He pointed to a brilliant black mare with white speckles across her stomach.
Francis opened the door to her stall and entered, beckoning Sir Myles to follow.
"It isn't her, sir, it's her foal." He answered.
Hiding behind its mother was a smaller version of her. The foal was a thing of beauty, with a sleek black coat and bright eyes. She was perfect, except for one oddity. The little foal had five legs; four where you would expect and a limp fifth one growing out of the left side of her back.
"Would you look at that." Sir Myles said in wonder. "A horse with five legs."
Francis nodded, "It only happens once in a million births. Stephan says he'll have to put her down. No one'll want a horse like that. You can't put a saddle on her, or hitch a plow because of her extra leg." He stoked the young horse's neck.
"It's a shame." Sir Myles said, his eyes staring at Francis intently. "It's a shame that she doesn't even get a chance to prove herself. She's survived for weeks, but no one will give her a chance because she's different. She might have become the greatest war horse to ever live, or the fastest creature on five legs to ever fly across the earth, but I suppose we'll never know." He clapped a hand onto Francis' shoulder. "Now that I've walked about a little, I think I can make it back to my rooms on my own. Good night." Myles left quietly, not a hint of uneasiness in his step, or slurring in his speech.
Francis continued to stroke the doomed foal's mane as her mother dozed nearby. Somehow, he didn't think Sir Myles had been just talking about the young horse. Maybe Francis wasn't the only one who had guessed Alan's secret.
He smiled for the first time that night. Suddenly he didn't feel so burdened. Sir Myles seemed content to let things be and now so was he. Perhaps little Alan just might become the greatest 'war horse' to ever live. Perhaps not. Either way, she deserved the chance.
I know Francis seemed a bit too angry in the last chapter, but see his character as a lot like Raoul's, except much quieter: He trusts and has undying loyalty to those he befriends and takes the betrayal of that trust very seriously. At least, that's kind of how I see Raoul. Well, leave me a review and let me know what you think!
