|
As Léof showed Javan around, he was forced to revise his earlier supposition about him. Javan had probably not come back to the stables so much for avoiding his sister and Saeryn’s conversation as for being near the horses and Léof, for his being the ostler. Javan had not grown bored or fidgety as Léof had half-expected, especially when Léof had started telling him about the individual horses; to the contrary, Javan was all wide-eyed curiosity, and Léof welcomed his company.
“Do you have a horse?” Javan asked, apparently out of nowhere, although Léof supposed it was a rather logical question.
“Sure do,” answered Léof. “She’s right down here.” He skipped past a couple occupied stalls and an empty one to stop at Æthel’s stall. She had poked her head out of the stall and whickered a greeting. “This is Æthel,” said Léof, not without some pride. It occurred to him then for the first time that Æthel may not in truth be his, but his father’s – what would happen if he demanded her back? He doubted he could afford to buy her. I’ll never let that happen. Ever. Aloud, he added, “Don’t ever let anyone tell you that a horse can’t be your friend.” That was a comment he had heard often enough from his father. “Æthel is one of the truest.”
|