1st Summer, 511 A.V.
"Oh, come on," he cajoled, embarrassed and irate that this animal, billed as intelligent, was really just foul-tempered and obstinate. The black Bloodbane would hopefully help him fit in when he arrived in Ravok, as would the new clothes he had purchased for when he arrived in the evil city: black silk doublet, black suede jerkin, and black leather trousers. Because black was the color of evil.
He took a deep breath and looked the horse in the eye, willing his aura to reach out and lull the beast into some sense of docility. When he spoke, his voice throbbed with authority. At least, he hoped it did, and he was willing beams of energy laced with suggestion from his eyes to the horses, the stallion who would have done better as a gelding -- and Hadrian planned to threaten gelding if this didn't work. The beast with the pretentious name of Adrasteios snorted noncommittally, but it seemed less likely that he would take a bite out of Hadrian if he turned his back on the monster.
But whether this was a clever ruse or not, he was not to know. There came a whistle and suddenly Adrasteios was shouldering past him, dragging him by his lead line into his stall. A clever stableboy was dangling a raw steak in the back of the stall and the Bloodbane nearly took his hand off getting at it. But he only laughed and danced out, helping Hadrian shut the black stallion in his box.
"You're crazy, Master Hadrian," the boy said, "if you don't mind me saying." He grinned all the more when the young enchanter flipped a silver miza at him with a rueful smile by way of thanks. His needs were already seen to. The horse would be saddled and ready on the morrow in readiness for his departure.
That done, he readjusted the strap of his satchel over his shoulder and quit the premises, leaving the Windmount Stables behind. |