But he supposed it was better than no exercise at all. At least the sun was shining, what sun made its way through the skeins of smoke scudding across the sky. And at least they were with other horses in small herds, of sorts.
But his heart ached for his poor horses, used to green meadows and free gallops.
A Doll approached him—of course, because Star had surely told the Dolls what he wanted. “Would my Lord wish to see the Golds or the Sweetfoot palfreys first?” the Doll asked. “The palfreys are on the carousels for exercise at the moment.”
He decided that he did not want to see his Sweetfoots. Not like this. “The Golds,” he said, and the Doll turned and led the way into one of the stable buildings.
Though his heart was misgiving him, it seemed that whoever had set up these stables had at least done so with the maximum good care for the horses in mind. Rather than straw—which probably would have been a great pain to deal with here in the middle of the Capital, what with being bulky and hard to transport from the country—the stalls were deep sawdust over sandy dirt—good for drainage and easy to clean and rake level. The pathways between the stalls were stone slabs. Most of the horses were in loose-boxes—and he could see his two false Golds from where he stood.
They had been given simply enormous stalls, four times the size of the rest of the loose-boxes, and their posture told him almost everything he needed to know. They weren’t stressed, they weren’t annoyed by their neighbors, and they approved of their surroundings.
He strode toward them eagerly, the Doll with him trotting to keep up.
The breeze was in his favor, and they scented him before they saw him. Both their heads came up, and they whickered a greeting, alerting all the rest of the horses in the building, who lifted their heads and turned in his direction to see what the newcomers were excited about.
“Hello, my lads!” he said as they made their ponderous way toward the sides of the stalls on the pathway. One of them whickered again and the other snorted as he came to the corner where the two stalls met, and they put their heads over the wall to have their noses rubbed.
He checked them over as best he could without getting into the stalls with them—he didn’t see any way to unfasten the doors, and he didn’t want to disturb them any further. They seemed happy to see him, but the kind of happiness that suggested that they were happy to see someone familiar, not that there was anything wrong.
“What are you feeding them?” he asked the Doll.
The Doll recited exactly the diet they’d been getting at home—minus the grass, which was being substituted for with hay in the right amount.
“That’s all right, then. What does the Emperor plan to do with them?” he asked.
“Oh, the most high Emperor, Lord of us all, has great plans now that he has seen them,” the Doll said.
“He’s seen them in person?” Kordas was a bit surprised.
“He has. They were brought to him in his privy garden. He was most pleased.” The Doll’s tone suddenly changed, became deeper—and in fact, sounded like a human man speaking. “These are good,” came the voice, and it struck Kordas in that moment that the Doll must actually be somehow reproducing what the Emperor had said, down to imitating his voice. “Wonderful beasts, wonderful. Big! Bigger is better. Bigger is always better. And gold, like real gold. We thought it was all bragging, but no, they look like gold. They’re going to look great in a parade.”
“Did he say anything else?” Kordas asked.
“My Lord might not want to hear it,” the Doll said hesitantly.
Kordas snorted. “I have a thick skin.”
“That dumb farmer knows horses, all right,” came the Emperor’s voice. “Dumb as dirt, but knows horses. Thought it was all an accident, maybe lucky, but he brought Us exactly what We wanted, and that’s no accident. Valdemar Golds! Big, beautiful, bigger and more beautiful than any other horse anyone else has. Perfect for Us.”
Kordas just nodded, and rubbed the horse’s cheeks with each hand. “What does he plan to do with them?” he asked.
“He’s having a special gold chariot made, with a copy of the Conquest Throne on it,” said the Doll, which seemed relieved that he hadn’t taken offense. “They’ll pull it in a parade that takes him to the Regatta, then he’ll sit in it during the Regatta.”
Well, that wasn’t ideal, but the two stallions were used to being out in the sun all day. At least they weren’t grays, which were prone to sunburn.
“Make sure they have water available while they’re standing there,” he cautioned. “And food, from time to time. Make sure where they’re standing, the piss can run away from their feet. Make sure someone scoops up their shit and carries it away immediately, and don’t let anyone but a Doll give them anything to eat. Especially don’t let them get apples.” That would be a disaster. He rather doubted the Emperor wanted to be assailed by horse farts.
“Yes, my Lord,” the Doll said. “It will be done.”
He couldn’t tell from that response if they’d already been given orders along the same lines or not, but this way he was certain his boys would be treated properly—and wouldn’t do anything to annoy the Emperor.
“My Lord—” the Doll said then, hesitantly.
“Yes?”
“These horses are not inclined to . . . chew on . . . things. Like a Doll. Are they?” It paused. “Some horses here are.”
“No. I trained bad habits out of them,” he replied. And it was true. He hadn’t known about the Dolls, of course, but he’d trained them early not to mouth cloth or, worse, chew on it or play with it. Too many horses that got into bad habits like that ended up dead, with guts full of inedible things they could not get out of their stomachs.
“This is good to know,” the Doll said, then ventured closer to the stallions and put up a tentative hand to touch the cheek of the nearest. The horse snorted at the unfamiliar object, but when Kordas said, “Steady,” it relaxed and let the Doll touch it, then rub it, then leaned into the scratch.
“This one enjoys working with horses,” the Doll said. “They are kindly natured.”
“More kind than humans,” Kordas replied, and sighed. “And I would be happier if I could spend the rest of my visit here.” Reluctantly, he gave the huge necks a final pat, and straightened his shoulders. “But I can’t. So it’s back to my duty. And—I’m glad that you enjoy your time with the horses.”
“Good fortune, my Lord,” said the Doll as he walked away.
I’m going to need it, was his parting thought.