Deerskin - Robin McKinley

The woman turned, startled. Her horses were tall and handsome, both pairs dark bay, wearing glittering harness; the woman was short and drably dressed, and her horses' tails had been more recently combed than her hair, which had been bundled erratically into a braid. "I thought I'd missed one," she said to Ash. "You're almost big enough to be a horse, although you don't drink like one." Ash was lapping noisily. The woman dropped the empty bucket into the well; when she pulled it up again, she offered the dipper, attached to the side of the well by a thin chain in case of accidents, to Lissar.

"I thank you," said Lissar, and drained it, and offered it back to the horse-woman.

"You've come a long way," said the woman. Lissar wondered if she was referring to her accent, her thirst, her dishevelled appearance, or her obvious weariness; and she smiled a little. Her thoughts were tired too, and inclined to wander. "Yes." She looked at the ground, and then down the road, the way they were going, toward the yellow city, which must be very near now. Many of the buildings around them were of yellow brick. Perhaps they were already in it and she had not noticed when they crossed from outlying town to the city itself. Was there a gate? Was there a reason she expected there to be one? So, here they were. Now what? The voice in her head remained obstinately silent.

"I don't mean to be rude," said the woman, "but you look like you might be able to use some advice. I am not very good with the kind of advice my mother used to give out-which is why I don't live at home any more"-the woman grinned-"but I've lived here longer than you have, I think, so maybe I can help."

Lissar looked at her. She was still smiling, and it was a nice smile; and her four horses all looked shiny and content. When she made a quick gesture to wave a wasp away from the nearest horse's head it did not startle away from her.

"I-it's hard to say," Lissar began finally. "I do need-advice, as you say. But I don't know what to ask for." Ash sat down in the middle of the road and began digging at the back of her neck with one hind foot, her lips pulled back in the canine rictus of joy that scratching inspires. Lissar looked up again. "I decided to come to the city-but, oh, I forget! And now that I'm here I don't know what to do."

The woman laughed. "You sound like me-although I did remember why: to get away from my mother. But I was still a farm girl-still am-but I was lucky, and they could use a horsewalker. Indeed they need another one for a few weeks, because Jed fell and broke an ankle, the chump. Usually we pick up the post-horses in pairs.

These four"-she patted a shoulder-"are very good-natured-well, all Cofta's horses are good-natured, just like he is; if you want the kind of idiocy that equally idiotic people like to think of as spirit, the Count Mayagim has 'em. Horses that have been let think rearing is cute ... sorry. I mean, one person for four horses isn't enough.

Would you like to come with me? It's not far now, but it'll get more crowded, particularly once we're in through the gates, and I'd appreciate the help.

"There's a meal at the end of it, and a bed, and you can talk to Redthorn, who hired me; he knows everything that goes on in the city. And, you know; the king offers a meal and one night's bed to anyone who asks, so now that's two days-how can you lose? Something'll turn up. Besides . . ." She paused at last, and looked at Ash, who was whuffling in the road-dust after a beetle. "The prince'll like your dog, and the king and queen like anything Ossin likes."

"The prince likes dogs?"

"You really aren't from anywhere, are you? The prince is almost a dog himself.

You never saw anyone so miserable as him in the reception-hall-he looks so much like a dog about to have a bath you expect to see his ears droop. But then you see him out charging over the landscape with his dogs, or in the kennels covered with puppies-and puppy dung-and you wouldn't know him from the under-shoveller.

Normal people mind getting dog dung on them. I think actually the king and queen wish sometimes that he liked someone other than anyone with a nice dog."

"You know him?" Lissar said, fascinated.

"Nah. I mean, no more than anybody does. I'm kind of one of the under-shovellers in the barn, but horse dung isn't so bad. Bringing post-horses back is a big promotion for me. I've only been here a few months myself. But Ossin is always outdoors except when his parents nail his feet to the floor to do the receiving with 'em. You'll see him too-the price of the king's meal is that you go present yourself to him and ask for work. Sometimes he has some to give you. Usually it's just a formality. Redthorn got to me first--or I found the stables first. You know, the prince's dogs look a lot like yours except they're short-haired.

"So are you lot ready to be off yet?" she addressed her horses. The bridles were looped together in pairs; she twitched one leading rein up and offered it to Lissar.

"Do you know anything about horses?" she said.

I don't know, Lissar wanted to answer; but the supple leather strap felt familiar in her hand, and the great dark eye turned toward her looked familiar as well, as was the warm smell in her nostrils. She raised her other hand to stroke one flat cheek, and then an inquisitive nose as the far horse presented himself for introductions. "A little," she said.

"Not much to this, so long as you're not one of those who're automatically frightened of something bigger'n they are," said the woman. "Follow along behind me; keep close. I'll have an eye back for you. Shout if you get stuck behind a wagon-not that I'll hear you," and she grinned again. "You can't get too lost-stay on the main road, it ends at the Gold House's doors, and then you follow the horse droppings to the barn. That's not true. Redthorn will sweep up himself if there's no one else, but Jed's really missed. If you get to the Gold House doors the horses will take you the rest of the way; they'll be thinking of dinner. That one's Tessa, and the pushy one is Blackear. Oh," she said in an obvious afterthought, "my name's Lilac.

What's yours?" There was a longish pause. "Call me Deerskin. She's Ash."

Blackear had a slight tendency to walk on her heels, but in general the horses were a lot less upset by the city bustle than she was. It was midmorning by the time they passed the city gates, and the traffic was so heavy that they were sometimes jostled by the simple press of too many bodies in too little space. The horses bore it patiently, though. Blackear shook his head up and down and flattened his nostrils and looked fierce; but Lissar found her breath coming hard and her heart beating too fast.

Ash stuck to her so closely it was as if they were tied together; the big dog had often to take a quick leap forward to avoid being stepped on by one horse or another-once directly between Lissar's legs, which was almost a disaster, since she was too tall to fit through. But the horses stopped, and Tessa watched mildly and Blackear interestedly while the two smaller creatures sorted themselves out; and then they had to hurry to avoid being swept too far away from Lilac and her charges, going steadily before them.

Lissar realized eventually that, far from being unduly crowded, most of the other people on the road were giving her and Lilac extra berth; in recognition, she assumed, of the king's horses. She was wryly grateful, and stayed as well between Tessa and Blackear as possible; if they were accustomed to it, let them take the bumps and blunders.

They stopped twice to water the horses and let them rest; once at an inn, where an ostler came out with hay and grain and a girl with a plate of sandwiches. "You're not Jed," she said, accusingly, to Lissar.

"Give that girl a medal," said Lilac. "Jed's got a broken ankle. It'll heal; what about your brain? If she knows which end of a bridle to hang onto, why do you care?" The girl blushed angrily, and disappeared inside. "Jed's already got a girl-friend," said Lilac cheerfully.