It was fall. The leaves had turned and their dead scent permeated the air. William had awakened early, alone in the morning darkness. Garrick had passed away only months before, leaving the new master with an increasingly indignant Stephen. The servant leeched off of what little was left of the Tavington income and William hated him for it. Still, he found solace in training Asmodeus, which was no easy trick. The stallion still refused the bridle and grooming was risky on its own. Countless times, he had thought of moving out on his own, maybe to a cottage or flat, far away from Liverpool; as it was, finances wouldn't allow it, so, in short, William was stuck.
Getting up out of bed, William planted bare feet hard on something sharp and jumped, looking down to see that he had trod on one of his toy soldiers from boyhood.
"Dammit!" He cursed, picking up the tiny British Regular in his hand, giving it an indignant stare. Just the night before, he had been twiddling the thing idly in his hands, watching Asmodeus munch away on a small bale of hay.
Tossing the toy carelessly on his bed, William ordered walked down the hall to Stephen's quarters, where he found the old servant dusting his father's old, empty bookcase.
"Move the bookcase."
"Where to, Master," Stephen asked, a tone of remorse in his voice.
"To my quarters. Touch nothing else."
Stephen nodded gravely and shuffled over to the bookcase.
"Master Garrick would have wanted it to stay put." He mumbled.
"Stephen! Master Garrick is not here!" William snapped. "Now, do as I say!"
Garrick's bookcase was the only thing of his that William had any attachment to.
The bookcase was heavy and Stephen just barely managed to move it into William's room, placing it on the wall next to his door. William followed and took the toy soldier from his bed, placing it on the bottommost shelf, and looked it over approvingly after Stephen had returned to his quarters.
"Stephen, draw me a bath."
The servant nodded wordlessly and started off to the washroom.
"Master," Stephen's voice called twenty minutes later, "Your bath awaits."
William left his room, closing the door authoritatively behind him and went to the washroom, where a basin of lukewarm water, soap, and a sponge awaited him. Stripping down, he allowed his clothes to fall around his feet as he stepped out of them and into the basin. Stooping down, he gathered water in his hands and splashed it over his body. Slowly, William knelt down in the basin, rubbing a knot in the back of his left shoulder, nimble fingers gracing childhood scars. Picking up the sponge, he rubbed the soap on it and began to wash himself with ritualistic strokes. First, he began with the back of his neck, then his shoulders and chest; after that his belly and legs before finishing with the rest of his body. He took time with his hair, for it was thick, and tangled easily. Once William was finished wringing it with his hands, it hung in loose curls just past his shoulders.
"Stephen!" The master called, "Bring me my razor and looking glass."
"Yes, Master Tavington..." Stephen's muffled voice came from down the hall. Moments later, the servant returned, razor and mirror in hand, setting them on a stool next to the washbasin and left the room. William picked up the razor in his right hand, dipping it into the water and rubbed soap on it. Then, he grabbed the mirror in his other hand and held it out before him, shaving with the grain of his skin. Switching the position of his razor, he momentarily lost concentration and winced as the razor cut into the skin of his cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood. William set the razor aside, wiping the blood off with the back of his hand and called Stephen once more for a towel. Wrapping it around his midsection, he stepped out of the washbasin and made his way back to his room. William dropped the towel around him and walked naked to his chest of drawers. There, he pulled out a linen shirt, cravat, brown breeches, and a pair of old stockings that needed to be darned.
"Runty things." He said softly, tossing them on his bed before pulling the shirt on, tying the cravat before starting with the breeches. Once he had those on, he returned to his chest of drawers and pulled out a needle and thread to start work on his stockings. His mother's teaching had done him well and within a minute, he was finished. Slipping on his stockings, William reached for his riding boots and pulled them on.
William made his way to a table next to his bed where a brush lay. He picked it up and carefully worked the snarls out of his hair before tying it back. Glancing sideways to a couple of vests hanging in his closet, he chose a navy blue one, neatly pressed, and put it on over his linen shirt before striding out of the room.
Not surprisingly, the Master found his way to the broken-down stables. Only one stall functioned properly, which was fine for him. It was just enough for Asmodeus. He found the horse munching on an apple he had left for him the night before. The Thoroughbred looked up and whinnied, backing up in his stall.
"Easy, Asmodeus," William spoke softly, reaching out a hand for the horse to sniff. Asmodeus snorted but resigned to hesitantly sniffing his master's hand, lipping it curiously. William smiled. "There's a good boy," He looked deeper into the stall and found that the horse had made a mess of manure in on one of the corners. Stepping into the stall, William coaxed Asmodeus into a calm mood before he attached a shank to his halter and led him out to a small patch of pasture to graze. Then, he grabbed a pitchfork and returned to the horse's stall, where he cleaned out the manure and laid down fresh bedding and some oats. Asmodeus could eat those after the morning ride. William fetched a bridle, saddle and blanket, carrying them out to the pasture and whistled several times for the Thoroughbred. Asmodeus looked up blithely and continued to munch on grass, pausing to take a few steps in between eating each mouthful.
"Asmodeus…" William slowly took a step toward him with the saddle blanket. The stallion stiffened. "Easy now," The master reached the mount and gently stroked his nose before walking over to his left side and throwing the blanket over his back. Asmodeus tossed his head, but William grabbed his halter and held him still. "We've made it this far; let's try for the saddle."
William backed away and fetched the saddle. Once more, he approached the stallion and stroked his nose before moving to the left side and hoisting the saddle on Asmodeus, tightened the cinch and straps; then, he adjusted the stirrups. Next came the bridle. Asmodeus tried to dance around but William held on to his shank for a moment before fetching the contraption. The horse's eyes rolled, revealing white. William remained calm and slowly slipped the horse's bridle down, past his nose, keeping it buckled behind his ears.
"Calm down, Asmodeus," He said softly, lifting the bit to the stallion's mouth. Asmodeus lifted his head up, closing his mouth, eyes flickering.
William lowered the bridle and grabbed hold of the halter, pulling the horse's head down and tried again. Reluctantly, Asmodeus opened his mouth and accepted the bit, chewing on it while the master moved the bridle over his head and removed the halter. William gave a rare, broad smile of approval as everything fell into place.
"Well that's a first. Good boy," He patted the stallion's neck before checking the cinch. Then, with certain quickness, he mounted and clucked encouragingly to his mount. Asmodeus danced in circles and then started into a trot. His gate was wild and strong; William would need to temper it. Pulling on the reins and digging his heels into the horse's sides, he commanded Asmodeus to slow his trot ever so slightly and turned him in a circle. The horse obeyed and within minutes, his gate became more acceptable. William patted him on the neck and chirped again, this time urging his mount into a gallop. Asmodeus was given his head and rushed forward, the muscles of his hind legs expanding and contracting with the speed and power of a heathen. The horse's nostrils flared as he flew across the pasture with William astride each listening to the other's rhythm.
William took him twice hard around the pasture and then slowed him to a walk back to the stables where he dismounted and removed the saddle, blanket and bridle, shutting Asmodeus in his stall while he retrieved the halter and shank from the pasture. Then he returned, placed the halter and lead rope on the horse, and led him out for brushing, working his coat to a shine.
Once he was finished, he led Asmodeus back to pasture, pocketing an apple slice for the horse on the way out. Asmodeus mouthed William's left pocket, searching for the hidden treat. The master smirked and took it out, hiding it behind his back.
"Where is it?" He asked teasingly.
Asmodeus' ears pricked and he stepped forward, sniffing William's face, shoulders, and pockets. Finding those places to be empty, he stepped behind his master and found the apple slice, shoving William forward with his face.
"Naughty boy!" William chuckled, his icy eyes glinting playfully in the sunlight. "You have done well this morning, Asmodeus."