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Everything had happened so fast, the reality of what had happened took a brief moment to register in Erbrand's head. Traveller's neck was bent and his nostrils flared as he struggled to catch his wind. For a moment Erbrand forgot all about the winning and leapt from Traveller's back. He cursed himself as he felt his horses chest heave in and out.
"You're selfish, selfish, Erbrand!" he muttered to himself over and over again. Speed was not the poor beasts purpose in life, it was in strength that Traveller would succeed, and in spite of this Erbrand made his horse do what was not intended of him, the selfish want of winning was on the top of his list and as a consequence had nearly broken his horse. Traveller lifted his head slightly and turned as he felt Erbrand run his fingers through his mane and rub his neck; he knew that touch. It was the touch that his master gave him at the end of a day of pulling wagons and hauling goods to and fro, it was the touch he got just before offered a carrot or a precious lump of sugar. Erbrand lifted his horses sunken head and looked him squarely in the eye as if he were examining him.
"We sure showed them, didn't we boy?" but Traveller payed no attention and instead started biting at Erbrand's sleeves to see if he had some hidden treat. A crooked smile crept across Erbrand's face as Traveller shook his mane and stood up to his full height. It would take more than one race to keep him down.
"Leof," Erbrand cried out as the boy dismounted, "well done, I have never seen a horse run so fast or ridden so admirably. Very well done!" Erbrand smiled and gave a playful wink as he shook Leof's hand.
Back across the Scar he led Traveller, back to the stables where he would be safe from wondering. He noticed that Horse was already put in his stall, though it looked quite refreshed for being in a race. With a farewell pat on the back Erbrand left Traveller to munch on his carrot. Crabannan was just crawling into his tent as Erbrand walked by, he had an urge to taunt his rival after he had lost in the race, but decided against it, Crabannan had a temper to match his own. Instead he raced by with the satisfaction of beating him when it came to handling horses, but the real contest that he anticipated to have with Crabannan was still to come: the quarterstaff fight. Though he was hesitant to enter the contest, he wanted desperately to beat Crabannan at his own game, or at least show his worth in a fight.
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