Years had passed and surely enough, the young master Tavington had seen his family's fortune and prestige change to little more than a heap of rubble. Four years after Katherine's death, Cynric had passed away due to illness. Still, things hardly improved and nearly all of the servants had left their home. All except for one old, balding man named Stephen, whom William had likened to a grumpy old boar and had seen fit to distance himself from, especially since the servant spent a great deal of time looking after his father. Garrick had not aged well. His reckless lifestyle had left him overweight with a number of health problems. Some days, it was even a chore for the master to get out of bed. Secretly, Garrick's pains pleased William greatly, and he would pass by his father's quarters with a shameless smirk upon his countenance if Garrick's complaining grew especially notable.
Today was one of those days. William had awakened early, just before the first rays of light began to turn the still, dark sky to a grey-white color. Always a light sleeper and never one to sleep well or late, the young master took a short amount of time to bathe and dress before looking himself over in a full-length mirror. Staring back at him was a young man who had changed considerably over the years. William, once small and gangly, had grown quite tall, nearly as tall as his father. He had filled out nicely too, for plenty of riding, swordplay and other sports had granted him agility, quick reflexes, and a lean, muscular build. The young master's countenance was nearly devoid of any youthful boyish roundness, and had fine, strong features. His was a commanding face that needed only to look at a man for them to know that he had come from high blood. But there was a coldness about William as well. A look of severity had developed in his glacial blue eyes long ago and had set his lips in a grimace. Yet he never spoke of it, and others knew better than to ask. His rich, thick, dark hair was pulled back tightly from his face, heightening the look of unfriendliness in his appearance, but William did not care to look warm. It was best that people kept to themselves anyway.
Seeing himself as sufficient in appearance for the day, William reached forward and ghosted a finger across the top of the mirror, pulling it away to reveal a thin layer of dust. He frowned. The mirror had been one of his mother's few possessions that he had managed to keep, along with a simple golden ring, before his father had sold off the rest of her belongings. William had ordered Stephen on far more than one occasion to make sure the mirror was cleaned and dusted, but as the servant had more loyalty to Garrick, the young master usually ended up doing the cleaning on his own.
Turning to leave the room and grab a cloth for the mirror, William paused at the grumbles coming from Garrick's room. They weren't clear to be sure, but William could more than guess that his father was complaining once more about his back and possibly something else.
"It was hurting all of last night… I woke up several hours ago and was not able to go back to sleep because of it."
"I am sorry, Master Garrick. I can get you something if you like."
"And William is being far too loud in the morning. I can hear the boy from down the corridor and behind a closed door."
"Ungrateful wretch…And I was hardly loud at all. The rats in the cellar make more of a racket." The young master murmured to himself before leaving the room. Walking down the stairs and through deserted corridors, William passed by the entrance to the servants quarters, now sealed off and deserted collecting sheets of dust and filth, for Stephen was the only one left and he slept in a tiny room in a secluded area of the house.
Arriving at the room where Stephen kept his cleaning things, William grabbed two rags and a bucket of water and hauled them upstairs. Then he returned back to his room and set to work, carefully dampening one the rags and proceeded to clean every inch of the mirror, minding the little groves in the intricate woodwork of its mahogany frame. Once the mirror was dusted and dried off, the young master returned the bucket of water and rags to their rightful place before he made his way out to the stables.
Like the estate, the stables no longer held the grandeur that they once had. The vast amount of stalls were bare save for three, which housed a young Shire mare named Bella, Garrick's chestnut Thoroughbred Ignatius, and a bay colored Thoroughbred gelding named Pip, who also belonged to his father, but was mostly ridden by either Stephen or himself.
Passing by a stall near the end of the stables, William rubbed the dust off of the wooden placard on one of the stall doors and gave a small smile. His beloved Fell pony, King, had once resided here, but like the other empty spaces, the stall had been abandoned, for King had gone blind and grown sickly, and Garrick had ordered him to be done away with while William was in London.
"Now… what to do with myself…" The young master said to no one in particular. The day had barely begun and already, he was beginning to feel restless. "I suppose…"
Spotting an empty bucket and a tattered rag, William gave the rest of the stables a quick look over.
This place really is quite shabby. Work for improvement could take all day. After all, I don't believe it has been given a decent coat of paint since I was about eight. Really, the walls are peeling! Where has the dignity gone in here? Rotting stall doors, moldy hay and insects in empty stalls… Just because we don't use all of the room here does not mean that it has to look half abandoned and decrepit.
Thankfully for his current irritation, William had nothing better to do for the day, for all of his duties that needed to be fulfilled had been taken care of. So, he filled the bucket with water and grabbed a rag, fetching a broom and rake as he went before setting all the supplies in King's empty stall. Further towards the entrance to the stables, the remaining horses nickered, pulling William from his concentration on work with their wishes to be let out of the stables and into the pasture.
"Oh all right," He shook his head, smirking as he grabbed a lead rope and made his way first to the stall of Ignatius, where the Thoroughbred reached out and nipped at his shirtsleeve, ears pricked eagerly.
"Yes, yes you first, you oaf," William smacked the stallion's neck playfully as he slipped the lead rope on him and opened the stall door to let him out. Graciously, Ignatius followed and soon found himself grazing in a small but open section of pasture. After Ignatius, William went back in and retrieved both Bella and Pip to let them out into another small patch of pasture near Ignatius before setting to work, cleaning the stalls and generally making an attempt to restore some semblance of splendor to the stables. It wasn't easy, but the young man found contentment in it, being alone and away from the drab, condescending air that seemed to hang over his father and the house. Perhaps he would take another trip to London once he was finished with the stables. After all, he had finished all necessary work both financially and around the estate. Garrick probably wouldn't even know he was away, and if he did, William would not be missed. But he would wait until his current task was completed before making any decisions.
Hours wore by, slowed by the heat of the midday sun. William continued his work, taking few breaks while he continued scrubbing away at the floor before he found paint to begin coating some of the more faded areas of the stables with. Once that was finished and the three occupied stalls were cleaned to his liking with new beds of fresh straw, the light of the day was beginning to fade into night. Looking up from his completed work, William wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow, a small, satisfied smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Yes, the place certainly looked better than before, with some new paint, dusting, door repairs and a good scrub of the floor. It still looked considerably bare with the open stalls, but that could not be helped. Picking up a broom that he had used, the young master carried it back to King's stall, where he had stored the rest of the supplies and left the stables. The horses could afford to be out in pasture for one night, especially a warm one such as this.
"What have you been up to that you have returned with your shirt sticking to you with sweat? Surely you cannot have toiled so hard on a summer day, young master. Even the best of sportsmen are likely to be relaxing."
"Well I would do the same if the stables did not require some attention. It really is an embarrassment," William's voice was calm, but his blue eyes were like daggers as his gaze swept over the servant.
Stephan frowned stubbornly and replied in an equally even tone, "Your father needed my assistance for the day. Surely that is more important than making sure the stables have a fresh coat of paint upon their walls."
"I suppose so…" William clenched his jaw, giving the elder man a stiff nod before pushing past him to get to his quarters. Once inside, he pulled off his shirt completely tossed it carelessly upon his bed. Looking down at his now bare chest, William frowned. A bath was most definitely a priority at the current moment and because he did not wish to further interact with Stephen than he already had, William took it upon himself to prepare it. As soon as everything was to his liking, William closed and locked the door behind him before stripping down and stepping to sink into the warm water. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, he immediately got his hair wet and began to wash it, enjoying the feel of the warm water upon his skin. On a cooler day, he would have made sure the water was near scalding, but William felt warm enough as it was, so he let the temperature set at just above lukewarm. Yet he still did not take time to be too leisurely and was finished bathing fairly quickly, and dressed in his evening wear in even less time. Making his way from the washroom back to his bedchamber William pulled out a satchel and pulled several outfits from his chest of drawers. It was too late to leave for London right then, but he had decided to leave with Pip at first light the next morning.
"Pip…PIP!" William hissed, gesturing madly at the young bay gelding to come closer. But Pip only snorted in response and pranced about just out of reach. He had been behaving impishly all morning and though the gelding may have thought the situation amusing, William was anything but pleased, for he was nearly an hour behind his schedule.
"Bloody sprite," The young master watched the Thoroughbred prance about the pasture, tossing his mane and tail as if he was somebody important. Then, seizing the opportunity when Pip wasn't paying attention, William reached out and grabbed the horse's halter, making Pip stop suddenly and look over at him with large, surprised eyes.
"Well did you really believe I would allow you to carry on like this," He asked the horse, rolling his eyes as he led him away to the stables to be groomed and saddled. Pip snorted, reaching out to nip at William's shoulder before he planted his hooves firmly to the floor just outside his stall door, determined to make the ordeal as difficult as he possibly could.
William scowled and pulled on Pip's halter, but the Thoroughbred wouldn't budge.
"Nasty git," The young master pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the horse, whose only response was to stare back with laughing brown eyes. "Very well, have it your way then." William let go of Pip's halter and walked a couple steps over to a barrel full of apples, retrieving one in the hopes of persuading Pip into listening. However, no sooner than he had taken a single step than Pip walked calmly into his stall and stood stock-still to be groomed.
"Impossible! That is what you are! Impossible!" William's tone was strained. But the Thoroughbred only stared calmly back, even refusing the apple when it was handed to him.
"Very well then. I will not pack any on the way for you either." William mumbled stubbornly as he began the grooming process, brushing Pip until his coat shined. Then, with a quick check of the horse's hooves, William quickly saddled him, grabbed his satchel, and headed on his way to London, stopping occasionally to rein Pip in from his colt-like antics.
Nearly three days later, William and Pip reached the city of London. It was crowded, bustling with all sorts of activity, and very dirty. Yet there was something William liked about it. Whether it was all of the things to do and see in London, whether it be a public hanging, the Royal Menagerie, various presentations on new technology, or the simple excitement of being in England's capitol, he did not know. But through the entire hubbub, he was still well aware of his first priorities to find lodging for both he and Pip. There were more than enough places to stay, though William was particular about his conditions. He wanted some place at least a little quiet that offered good care for the horses, and good food for supper and breakfast. Not to mention, a comfortable place to sleep. But he was careful not to spend too freely on luxuries and after an hour of searching, he found a place to his liking and gladly handed Pip over to a stable hand. Then he made his way into the inn and up a flight of creaky wooden stairs, down a short narrow corridor and in to a medium sized room with a bed and an old, rickety looking chair inside. Setting his satchel down in the chair, William sat down on the side of the bed, taking a few minutes to decide what he would do to occupy his time next. After about ten minutes of debating, he reluctantly decided upon a stroll about the city surrounding the inn. He had hoped for a more direct agenda, but upon arriving, could not figure out exactly what he wanted to do outside of finding a place to stay.
Pulling his clothing out of his satchel, William laid his outfits out on the bed before stuffing the rest of the contents back in and left the room. Halfway out the front door of the inn, William blinked in the brightness of the overhead sunlight but then suddenly bristled and tensed as a sugary voice called behind him, "Master Tavington, is that you?"
William didn't answer, gripping the doorframe until his knuckles turned white.
"Master Tavington…. Garrick?" The voice asked again, near William's right shoulder.
Slowly, he turned around to face a woman who looked to be only several years older than him, with light brown hair and hazel eyes that had a mischievous glint to them. Yet from the look of her clothing, William could also tell that she was little more than a whore seeking to warm a bed and earn some coin for it, and the fact that she knew his father made him all the more angry. Glaring at her with infuriation, William spoke in a quiet voice, "I believe you have me mistaken for someone else. I hardly know the man you speak of."
"Oh…" The woman spoke slowly, a hint of discomfort creeping into her eyes but she did not avert her gaze from the young man before her. "I'm terribly sorry. You just… you looked like him. I should have looked more carefully."
"Indeed, you should have," William spoke icily, scorning her with his eyes. Then, before more could be said, he stepped out the door and was swallowed into the city crowds that filtered through cobble-stoned streets while buildings with thatched roofs and signs hanging from them to advertise pubs, smith-shops, tailor shops, and other interests of the people, bordered him in both his left and right sides.
"Filthy harlot," He muttered, weaving in and out of the crowds, carefully avoiding bumping into the people closely crowded around him jostling each other in an attempt to get from one place to another. Once he was several blocks away from the inn, William turned to go into the Red Lion pub. It was crowded, dimly lit and smelled of smoke. Even the wooden beams on the ceiling, though dark already, seemed to have turned a shade closer to black from smoke stains.
"Is there anything I might get you, sir?" The barman asked when he walked in.
"Only a pint of ale, and bring it to the table over there." William gestured at a small, lone table in the corner of the pub.
"Very well, it will be a minute or two."
William nodded vaguely and strode over to his seat, rolling his eyes when he saw a couple of women eying him suspiciously, as if they recognized him from some place. To further distract himself from curious eyes, William pulled out an old book and pretended to read while waiting for his drink.
"Here you are, sir." A young man about William's age walked up to him with his pint of ale.
"Thank you." William nodded vaguely and reached for the drink, dismissing the server with a casual wave of his hand, watching the server's retreating back while he went. The pub was growing still more crowded, for people were coming in to take breaks from their work. The Smokey smell in the pub began to grow stronger and the air more stale and stuffy. It was time to leave. Finishing the last of his pint, William set the empty mug down upon the wooden table and stalked out of the pub and back into the streets. Glancing occasionally at the endless rows of shops, he only found mild interest in one with crafts by a blacksmith, yet it looked quite occupied so he only passed by. Further down the street, more shops beckoned him in, though he only entered three, and all for very short amounts of time. He was still restless, and it was beginning to grate on him.
It should not be this way. Good lord, Will, there are plenty of things to do around here. You could look at a new pair of boots. You know your old pair is wearing quickly. Or perhaps take a look at one of the small armoires. After all, how long have you been griping about the fact that your fencing sword is a tad bit off balance? Honestly man, pick a shop and just go inside! How complicated can this be?
Neither the country, nor the city was able to suffice and yet, William needed to keep moving.
After nearly another two hours of wandering, swift strides carried William to the banks of the River Thames, where he stood and watched all manner of ships coming into port to either import or export cargo. Taking a few steps closer to the bank, he noticed a particularly large cargo ship out of the right corner of his eye as it anchored and began to unload its shipments. Thinking it was simply another ship full of silks from the Orient, he was about to walk away when a fierce neighing scream sounded from the gangplank, causing him to look back in surprise. The cargo was hardly any type of silk, but instead, horses. As he watched, two weathered looking men appeared on the gangplank, attempting to lead a dark chestnut Cob onto land. The animal refused to go at first, tossing his head in an effort to pull away, but was soon calmed and went complacently down the gangplank, while a number of other Cobs and a couple of Clydesdales and Shires followed. Then, after the heavy horses had been unloaded, the two men brought out yet another horse, a young, chestnut Thoroughbred colt. He looked sickly, and his ribs were showing due to malnourishment; William stared in confusion as to what a poor animal such as the beast before him was doing in the company of the finer, healthier horses that had been led out earlier. But he didn't have much time to wonder, for one of the men turned to his compatriot and spoke in a gravely voice, "Is this the one that's goin' to the glue fa'ory then, Ralph?"
"Yes, 'e's the one. Apparently a sour one; the master said 'e won' let anyone near 'im," Ralph replied keeping a strong hold on the lead as the young cold was indeed putting up a struggle. William was mildly surprised that such a frail looking animal still had the amount of fight in him that the colt did.
Why on earth do they not just shoot the poor beast? That would at least be merciful…
Yet as the men continued to guide the struggling colt down the gangplank, he gave a violent jerk backward, rearing up on his hind legs and nearly fell into the river below. His handlers gave a yell and moved quickly in an attempt to get him to his feet but he lunged and snapped at them. Without thinking, William himself strode onto the gangplank, stepping in front of one of the men and grabbing a hold of the colt's reins. The colt lunged at him as well, keeping his weight on the gangplank, but William was equally firm, and eventually coaxed the Thoroughbred to a begrudging stand.
"I say, you's a lucky one, boy," The handler, Ralph commented, taking a step closer to William. "'e 'ates everyone. D' you think you can git 'im offa here?"
William shrugged and attempted another pull, but the colt wouldn't budge. Instead, he rushed forward and landed a solid bite on his shoulder.
"I s'pose not then…" Ralph replied as William winced and glared at the colt, whose only response was to stare back, his dark brown eyes pooling with a growing fury. For some reason, it intrigued him, the defiance of an animal so frail and so clearly out of his element.
You want to fight, do you?
"Does this one have a name," William asked.
"Don' fink so," Ralph's partner spoke up. "'e's only gone by Devil 'orse on this ship, an' tha's 'cause 'e's bin a git the entire time."
"Well, I can take him then." William replied.
Ralph's eyes widened.
"You want to take this beast? Sonny, 'e's useless. Starved, untrainable, and 'eaded straight for the factory."
William pursed his lips and persisted, "I can pay you twice as much as what they will give you at the factory. Just let me have him."
"Are you mad? 'e's dangerous!" Ralph cried, dodging a lunge from the colt. "You'll probably jus' en' up takin' 'im to the factory yaself."
William looked at him steadily and pulled out a bag of coins to show to the men.
This is most of my coin for this trip. But if emaciation is the only thing I have to be concerned about apart from his obviously stubborn temper, then that should not be too hard to remedy.
"Here. Take it or leave it; but I am only offering it once."
Ralph considered the young man's words carefully, looking down at the bag of coins and back up at William's face, which expressed a genuine seriousness about the situation before his gaze travelled over to the colt, who looked as if he might lunge once more.
"Wha is it tha' you want with 'im? He'll take a lo' of trainin'. Don' reckon 'e's even broken yet. As I said, you'd probably jus' en' up takin' 'im to the glue factory yaself, an' sellin' 'im for a higher price than us." The man looked at William with a hint of suspicion.
"I only want to use him for riding. And I can train him myself. He will not be going to any factory."
"Well, I 'ave no need for 'im, so take 'im." He spoke with a final, somewhat reluctant nod.
"Thank you." William replied, handing Ralph the coins while he took the reins of the colt, holding him in to keep him from lunging and biting while they started down the gangplank once more and into the crowds.
"Good luck wif' 'im." Ralph called.
"Indeed…" William replied, more to himself, keeping a careful eye on the Thoroughbred, who seemed to be looking for any opening possible to escape and run amok. With that, he left the port area and started back towards the inn, passing by several redcoat infantry soldiers.
"Rotten excuse for a horse, is he not, Tom? Should be shot dead," The soldier nearest to William whispered to his compatriot. Tavington would have hardly noticed them at all, but one of the soldiers smacked the colt hard on the rump with a crop and he gave a piercing neigh, pulling so hard at the lead that it dug into William's hand, cutting his skin so that his palm began to bleed.
"Easy… Easy boy…" William ignored the pain in his hand and quickly brought the colt back under control; meanwhile, the infantrymen had left at first opportunity. When they finally returned to the inn where he was staying, a stablehand came to retrieve the colt, but William waved him off.
"I will see to this one on my own," He spoke in a gruff tone.
"Very well, sir." The stablehand looked relieved and a little confused as to what a young man of obvious aristocratic breeding could possibly want with the pitiful looking animal that he was leading.
Moving past the stablehand, William kept the Thoroughbred on a short lead all the way into the stables, where Pip greeted him from a stall in the back with a high-pitched nicker.
William merely smiled smugly, fingering a couple of horse treats in his pocket. He would wait until after he had the colt settled to move to the other horse.
"Not yet, Pip." He spoke. The gelding snorted and looked away, pawing impatiently at the floor of his stall while William found an empty stall to place the Thoroughbred in, but as he attempted, the colt pulled once more at the lead.
"Come now…" William sighed and tugged at the lead, but he wouldn't budge. Keeping one hand tightly on the lead, William turned and faced the horse. "You really have no room to be difficult with me. Look at yourself…" He gestured at the colt, who merely continued to stare at him with hostile eyes. Shaking his head once more, William pulled harder at the lead, forcing the Thoroughbred to move until he got him into the stall and put him in cross-ties. There, he carefully inspected the colt, looking for any other signs of neglect or abuse aside from the obvious weight loss. Thorough assessment found nothing of concern on the horse's legs, hooves, belly, sides, back, rump, or tail. But when William looked over the colt's chest, he found scars. They were very faint and he almost missed them. And when he did notice them, he didn't think much of them until he found the same faint scars on his muzzle and face.
"Now what is this," He grasped at the cross-ties to keep the colt's head still as he inspected the scars more closely. The Thoroughbred jerked and pulled at the ties, a look of anger and fear in his eyes.
"Calm down, boy…" William attempted to coax the colt while holding tightly to the cross-ties. "Everything is all right…" Slowly stretching out his free hand, William held it out palm-down to the colt's muzzle for him to smell, but the colt positively trembled and screamed in response, looking as if his new master might strike him at any second. Quickly, William dropped his hand, the clarity of the situation dawning on him.
Been beaten have you? And from the looks of it, more than once…
"All right, all right…" William murmured, taking the Thoroughbred out of the cross-ties and closing the stall door. The colt snorted and retreated into a far corner of the stall, pawing at the floor as he went. He still needed to be fed. William went about this carefully, gathering a small amount of food that was neither too rich, nor completely lacking in nutrients. But when he made to place it into the feeding area of the stall, the Thoroughbred turned and snapped at him, biting his forearm.
William pulled back with a yelp, nearly spilling the food, blood seeping through the white sleeve of his shirt.
The colt had his ears pinned back and moving to lunge yet again, but William was prepared and backed out before he could land a second bite.
"Well, they were hardly joshing when they said you refused let anyone near you…" He murmured to the Thoroughbred, who paced restlessly in his stall, eying the food in William's hands, yet he was too wary to make any attempt to move towards it.
Come now, I know you are famished. I know you want food. And I am not about to leave yet.
Waiting until he was quite sure that the colt wasn't watching, William quietly placed the food in a corner of the stall, and backed away slowly, watching from a distance to see if the colt would eat anything. After a moment or so, the Thoroughbred eyed the food and cautiously wandered over to it. Sniffing it hesitantly, he hovered just above it for another moment before the hunger became too much for him and he began to eat.
"Good boy," William continued to watch the colt, grasping at his bitten forearm while he made careful mental notes on how fast and how much the Thoroughbred ate.
The horse wasted hardly any time in finishing his food; once it was completely devoured, he looked expectantly at the corner where it had been placed, as if more would appear, but William knew better than to appease him to the fullest extent.
I know what you want, but you will founder if I give you more…
After a few moments, the expectant look went away and was replaced by a morose expression before the colt let out soft whinny and backed further into his stall, his face hidden from sight.
William watched a few more moments before he continued on to Pip's stall so that the young gelding would not feel too excluded.
"Jealous, are you?" He asked when approaching the bay gelding, who was eying him reproachfully. "Really, Pip, you are hardly being abandoned."
Pip only looked unconvinced before he turned his head away.
"Pip…" William pulled a treat from the pocket of his breeches and held it out for the gelding to take, but he resisted, snorting and turning completely away.
"Very well then; nothing for you." William shrugged and turned to leave, just as Pip turned back to him and nickered. He had decided that perhaps he wanted the treat after all. "No, nothing for you," William replied firmly. "You had your chance. And now you will have to wait until tomorrow to try again."
Without waiting for any further gestures from the gelding, the young master strode out of the stables, leaving Pip to paw at his stall floor and brood.
….
The next morning began early, just as the one before had. Though he was planning on staying a couple more days in London, William's funds were beginning to run low and he thought it best to start back home before he could dig himself into financial trouble.
After gathering his things and putting them back in his satchel, William paid the innkeeper and stepped out to the stables. Pip was easy enough to groom and ready, but William was more concerned about the colt, which was pacing about in his stall anxiously. He had not been fed yet though from the looks of one of the stablehands who was holding his arm and giving the Thoroughbred a nasty look, it had been attempted. So, as he had the day before, William carefully fed the colt, dodging a lunge and bite aimed at his shoulder as he did so before backing away and monitoring the Thoroughbred with a critical gaze until he had finished. Then it was time for grooming and getting the leadrope on him so that they could leave. Thankfully, William had left the halter on the horse, so he would not have to fight harder than was necessary when it came to this. But by the time he had the colt on the lead behind him and Pip, William still had two new bites on his shoulders and a hoof-print from a nasty kick in his side.
"Luck if I ever get us home without something going terribly wrong…" He spoke with a grating tone of pain, sitting atop Pip as straight as he could and tossing the infuriated chestnut colt on the lead behind them a stern glance.
Slowly, he began his way out of the stables, keeping a firm hold on the colt's lead and Pip's reins for the latter was in one of his playful moods yet again, and had attempted to sidestep and prance about the stables before being forced out into the streets.
"Pip, I want none of your antics on the way home. Absolutely none of them," William whispered in the gelding's pricked ear. But Pip only nickered in response and attempted a jerky gate for about five minutes until his less than pleased rider forced him back into line. Meanwhile, William had to contend with Pip's sporadic antics and the Thoroughbred colt's wrath throughout the ride out of London and was constantly having to show his authority to the colt, who attempted to lunge and bite at every turn he came upon. Yet as luck would have it, he made it home in three days with both horses and him intact and not much worse for wear. After unsaddling Pip, William let the delighted gelding out to pasture, but placed the colt in a large stall next to the Shire, Bella. Then, after making sure he had an adequate meal, he turned and started towards the entrance, leaving the colt to be on his own.
"That one new?" The young master paused and looked over his shoulder to see the servant, Stephen, coming in from the back entrance of the stables.
"Yes. I bought him in London," William replied curtly.
"Well I sure hope he wasn't a fortune. He's got death written all over that bony frame of his."
"He will be perfectly healthy soon enough, Stephen," William bristled. "Food and good training are all he needs. Just leave him to me, and do not go near him in the meantime."
Stephen shrugged in response.
"I will do that, sir. Though I would have picked a better specimen to take," He spoke in what might have appeared to be a polite manner, yet his tone was hinged with a condescending note that William did well to ignore.
"Good." William answered. "Then if you are finished up here, you may be on your way."
"I am, sir. Though I have one more question, if I may."
The young master restrained himself from rolling his eyes and instead, fixed the servant with an irritated stare.
"What is it then?" He asked.
"Does that beast have a name?" The servant questioned, gesturing at the colt.
William hesitated and looked down at the floor. He had been so caught up in just making sure that he, Pip and the colt arrived home safely that he hadn't quite thought of a name for the new horse. He had tossed ideas about, but had not concretely decided on any one name.
They did call him Devil Horse while he was on the ship… And I see no reason in taking that away from him; it befits his character well enough.
"He hasn't got a name?" Stephen's voice cut through his thoughts.
"He has a name." William replied firmly. "His name is Asmodeus."