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Léof
Finally freed of people seeking his attention, Léof headed off for the baker where everyone had gathered in hopes of learning in more detail just what was going on that day and what events there might be and who was entered. He had not crossed but half the distance, however, when a large contingent of the Hall broke off and started heading towards him, and the stables. “What is going on around here?” he asked aloud to no one in particular.
“The horse race, Léof! It is the first event!” cried Javan, who was nearby.
“The first event! But I have had no time to prepare any of the horses save my own, and that only by chance!” Léof replied in exasperation, forgetting for the moment that he still had not entirely forgiven Javan and no longer talked much with him. “They are all no doubt thoroughly dusty, and there is only so much space in the stables such as they are for people to be saddling up horses…” But Javan had already hurried off to find his own mount. Shaking his head, Léof turned to follow. Most of the riders had better be willing to prepare and saddle up their own mounts, if this was how much warning they wanted to give him. Honestly. He didn’t even know who all was riding in the race and on which horses.
Well, he would focus on Æthel and if someone needed him for something, they would know where to find him. He reminded himself that he was far from the only able horseman in the Hall, and most of the others would have no troubles with saddling up their own horses. Even so… he could have done with some warning. He liked to be prepared. Focus, he told himself again. If he wanted to win this race, and he did, he needed to have his mind on it alone. “Well, Æthel baby,” he addressed the horse as he pulled her out, “ready to run?”
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