Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Kedrin looked at Tirro. "Do you agree so far?"

Tirro gave one long nod. "I do, sir."

Saviar's mind raced. He forced himself to focus on every word and tried to ignore the pounding of his heart, the worry that turned his mouth dry as cotton. He had no time to consider his grandfather's motives, only to concentrate on the details coming at him at galloping-horse speed.

Eshwin continued, "My neighbor had recently lost his elderly plow horse and asked where he could find a replacement. My mare seemed worthless to me, so I sold her to him at a pittance…"

Tirro frowned and shook his head.

Apparently catching his neighbor's reaction from the corner of his eye, Eshwin amended. "Well, a pittance compared to her initial price, anyway. A quality broodmare is worth so much more than a plow horse, but nothing if she can't conceive."

A pause ensued, and Kedrin filled it. "You were both content with this initial agreement?"

"Yes, sir." Tirro bobbed his head dutifully.

Eshwin's lips twisted. "Not exactly thrilled, Captain, but resigned. A horse breeder is nothing without foals, and it would take me years of odd-jobbing to raise the money for a new broodmare. At least, this gave me a start."

"So," Kedrin clarified. "Not a happy contract, but a legitimate one."

This time, they both shrugged, nodded.

Saviar clung to each word, nuance, and demonstrated emotion. Thus far, he had heard nothing that required judging. He hoped his silence made him look wise and pensive rather than terrified.

"Until the birth of the filly," Eshwin said.

"Ah." Apparently, it all became clear in that moment to Kedrin.

Saviar needed more. "So she was not barren after all."

"No, sir." Eshwin glanced sidelong at his neighbor. "I feel the foal should be mine. Without my stallion, she would not exist; and I sold the mare for the price of a barren horse."

"She's mine," Tirro said. "I bought her mother for a fair price we agreed upon. I owned the mare at the time of the birth, and the filly was born on my farm."

"At the least," Eshwin added, "he should pay a studding fee."

"Should I pay a studding fee when I never contracted for a foal? I didn't want her."

"Then give her to me."

The neighbors glared at one another as they veered onto old ground. They had clearly argued these same points, without acceptable compromise.

Replacing his hat, Kedrin turned his attention to his grandson. "It would seem, Saviar, that the time for judgment has arrived."

Saviar swallowed hard and dismounted. He executed both gestures as delay, but they gave him too little time to think. His legs ached from the long ride. He wanted to make a just decision, to please his father and grandfather; yet he also worried that he might thwart the law or make a grave mistake. "I…" he started, pacing to avoid looking anyone in the eye. "… believe the law sides with Tirro. With ownership of the mare goes possession of every internal working part of her." He stopped to glance at Eshwin. "One does not sell a chicken and expect to get back the eggs."

"But…" Eshwin started, forestalled by Kedrin's frown and Saviar's raised hand.

"However…" Saviar felt sweat trickle down the front of his tunic. "Laws are constructed to handle general cases and cannot consider every specific to which they might apply." He finally dared to look at Ra-khir who showed him nothing. At least, he did not look aghast. Saviar stopped in front of Tirro. "You care for your neighbor, don't you?"

Tirro's eyes widened, and he nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, sir."

"You know Eshwin sold you the mare only because he believed her barren. Can you not forgive him his mistake?"

"Forgive?" Tirro blinked, clearly befuddled by the wording. "It is not a matter of-"

Saviar did not allow him to finish, turning instead to Eshwin. "And can you understand why your friend claims the foal as his?"

"Of course." Unlike the farmer, Eshwin showed no confusion or hesitancy. "She's valuable. An unexpected windfall."

Saviar turned his back for a moment to consult the knights. Both watched with expressions of mild curiosity and nothing more. Apparently, they wanted him to handle the judgment on his own; and they would not interfere, even with subtle hints.

As Saviar expected, the farmer defended himself from the suggestion of a selfish motivation. "No. He has it wrong. It's not the money I'm after, not really."

Like Saviar, Eshwin turned his full attention to the farmer. Clearly, the breeder had either never heard the upcoming explanation or had never truly listened.

"It's just that giving birth puts my plow horse out of commission for at least six weeks. I'll need the money I get selling the filly to rent another plow horse."

Saviar started to speak, but Eshwin interrupted. "Is that what's bothering you?"

Tirro stiffened, clearly startled by the question. He turned toward the horse breeder. "Of course."

Saviar glanced at the broken wagon, then at the horse, grazing placidly on roadside brush. Sunlight sheened red highlights from well-groomed chestnut fur, and its long tail and clipped mane looked combed and clean despite the journey. It had a thick chest and muscled legs. "Whose horse is this?"

The two men's gazes followed Saviar's.

"That's my stallion," Eshwin said with clear pride. "Beautiful, isn't he?"

"Yes," Saviar agreed, an idea coming to him suddenly. "Handsome. And mannered, too."

Eshwin fairly beamed.

"Can he… pull a plow?"

Eshwin made a dismissive noise. "Of course he can pull a plow. He can do anything." Suddenly realizing where Saviar was going, he smiled at Tirro. "Would you…? Would you like… to borrow him?"

Tirro continued to study the stallion. "You… would let me? He's your pride and joy."

"I can spare him for six weeks or so. He's a good, calm horse who will do as you ask."

Saviar glanced at Ra-khir and thought he saw a slight smile playing at the corners of his father's lips. Is it a grin or a grimace? Doubt assailed Saviar, but he refused to show it to the strangers. "It seems we have found an equitable solution, then. The filly belongs to Eshwin at the moment of its weaning, and he will provide for any upkeep beyond mother's milk prior to that time. In exchange, Tirro will get full use of the stallion for his farm until the mare can return to work. In the future, you may wish to make mutually agreeable arrangements for breeding the stallion and mare again."

Saviar waited in a tense silence that seemed to stretch into an eternity. The solution appeared fair to him, but he might not truly understand enough details of farming or breeding to see a glaring problem.

"Thank you, young knight-in-training!" Eshwin said with clear enthusiasm.

Tirro took a bit longer to decide whether or not he liked the compromise, then finally smiled crookedly. "Supremely fair, young man. You'll make a fine knight some day."

Saviar's cheeks reddened at the compliment. "You're welcome, kind sirs." Uncertain what to do next, he half-walked, half-backed to his father and accepted a hand up to the charger's rump.

The knights' horses took off at a gentle lope, soon leaving the farmer and breeder behind. Saviar cringed, awaiting his father's assessment. The neighbors were happy with his ruling, but he had no way of knowing whether or not he had found the right solution by the rigid moral code of the Knights of Erythane.

Ra-khir gave his son nothing. They traveled in a silence broken only by hoofbeats, birdsong, and the occasional animal snort. Finally, Saviar could stand it no longer. "Did I handle that… well enough?"

"You did fine, Saviar," Ra-khir said without zeal. "You did very well."

Kedrin cut in, his tone filled with all the excitement Ra-khir's lacked. "What your father means, Saviar, is you did a magnificent job."