Chap. 157 Before the Race

Chap. 157- The Gatha at Ruatha-Before the Race

Despite the opening of the race meeting still an hour away, a crowd was beginning to form. Clumps of people were discussing the horses, arguing the merits of their particular favorite. The punters had their chalk boards up, and were already fending off those bettors who wanted an "inside tip' before placing a bet. Families were already settling around the track, claiming the best spots from which to watch the races. Grooms and handlers were in their Hold designated paddocks, tending to their horses.

K'ndar saw Ruatha's colored pennants floating above the crowd. They made their way to the paddock. In the middle of a small group of horses, a tall liver chestnut stood, looking as if he was contemplating the coming race.

"Remember to listen, now," he said to Glyena, reminding her to listen for the 'unusual accent' she'd heard.

She nodded, then caught sight of the chestnut.

"That's him, it has to be Swiftsure!" Glyena said, excited. "He's beautiful!"

The cable delineating the borders of the paddock was lined with prospective bettors and admiring horsemen.

"Aye, lassie, that liver chestnut out there in the middle, that's Swiftsure, sure as the sunrise, he's the winner," one man said.

"Go on with you, mate, Keroon's horse will leave him in the dust. Mark my words," his friend said.

"Keroon's two paddocks over, let's go look at them," the first said.

K'ndar looked at Glyena, his eyebrows raised in a question.

She'd listened for the accent, and shook her head no.

"There's Ruatha, let's go talk to them. Remember, now, to mind what you say," K'ndar said to Glyena.

"I will."

There were several people in the shade of a canopy, surrounded by tack, grooming kits, saddle pads, hay, and buckets of fresh water. With the exception of a burly man and a tiny woman, the rest kept their eyes on their horses.

K'ndar came up to him and said, "Excuse me, sir, I don't mean to interrupt, but are you Rhian?"

Rhian tore his attention from the tiny woman, and frowning, said, "I am…"

"Sir, I'm K'ndar, Kahrain Steppe Weyr, and this is Glyena, my sister. Glyena is the one who…"

His expression changed to one of welcome.

"Built that beautiful bridle! Aye, the trader was quite impressed with your work, as am I! You do beautiful work! Did your trader pay you?"

Glyena blushed, then said, (she'd been practicing) "Yes sir, he did, thank you for buying it," she said.

"How could I not, it's beautiful!" He turned and picked it off the bridle rack hanging behind him, almost caressing it.

"This is beautiful work, Miss Glyena, I had to have it. But I'm sorry to say, it doesn't fit the horse I bought it for. Can you make another for me? With a name embroidered in the brow? I'll pay you promptly, of course," he said.

"Is it for Swiftsure?"

"You know him?"

"We know he's the favorite, sir."

"Aye, I want one for him, he's the pride of Ruatha. He's thrown us some beautiful babies, he has. You should see him, when he's out with his family, he plays with his foals as if he were still one himself," Rhian said.

Both K'ndar and Glyena were charmed. Stallions could be testy with foals, especially ones that weren't theirs.

One of the staff turned an eye away from her charge. Her look was one of worry, though, not pride. The tiny woman caught it and immediately went to her side, where they began to talk in a low voice.

Glyena looked at K'ndar, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"I'll have to measure him, sir, would it be possible to measure him now? Then when I get home, I can start on it right away."

Rhian thought for a moment, then said, "We can do that. We have plenty of time before the Stakes race. Ursula, would you join us? We're going to measure your horse," he said.

Swiftsure's groom and handler nodded. "Lovely work, that bridle. Glyena, is it?"

"Yes ma'am," she said.

"Mind if I come along? I'd like to get a closer look at Swiftsure," said the tiny woman.

"Certainly, ma'am, you're the best healer I've ever known, never hurts to have you keep an eye on our horses," Rhian said.

They made their way through the horses clumped around the stallion.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh, he's beautiful," Glyena said, and K'ndar was struck speechless. The stallion was virtually perfect.

"By the egg," he sighed, "his legs are perfect."

Rhian puffed up visibly.

"You know horses, obviously?"

"Yes sir," K'ndar said, tearing his eyes from the stallion, "We're from Kahrain Steppe Weyr, but me and Glyena, we grew up on a cothold on the steppe. We have horses, we both were riding before we could walk."

Ursula weaved through the other horses, crooning to the stallion. He lowered his head and whickered affectionately.

K'ndar looked around him. "Sir, may I speak in confidence with you?"

Rhian looked at him curiously. "Whatever you have to say, it's sure to stay right here with us," he said.

"Yes, sir. Glyena has some information for you. We think it's about Swiftsure."

Everyone pricked their ears up.

Glyena cleared her throat and then told him how she'd come to overhear the conversation, and word for word, what the men had said.

The effect was electric on the Ruathans.

"I…I KNEW they were suspicious," Ursula growled, fury in her eyes. "Something told me there was something wrong with those two louts, but…if they've hurt him, I'll never forgive myself."


"You believe me?" Glyena said, gratefully.

"Of course I believe you. Why would you tell me tales?"

"Because sometimes, grownups…don't," she said.

"Well, this one does," she said. She was almost crying in her anger.

"It's okay, Ursula,it's okay, there's a lot of folks around, not all of them honest," Rhian said, trying to comfort her.

"Yes, but if they've hurt him in some way…"

"This wouldn't be the first time someone had done something to a horse, not just ours," Rhian said, visibly controlling himself. "No need to blame yourself."

"I'm not, it's just…it was just a moment, just a moment that I didn't have my eyes on him. One man bumped into the man talking to me, knocking me over. It was just a moment, just a moment…"

"It's okay. They might be watching us right now, so let's be circumspect," Rhian said.

"Did they have any contact with Swiftsure? His legs?" asked the healer.

"No," Ursula gulped, "at least, not his legs, but I had my eyes off him for just those few moments it took to pick myself up. Swift had his head over the cable, the man who knocked the other over was right there, right at his head. The other horses were all crowded alongside him. He couldn't have gotten any lower than his chest, not his legs," she said.

"Let me check him, right now," the healer said.

Rhian looked over their heads to the crowd lining the paddock, watching them. He hated this sort of thing, hated having to be secretive. He hated, too, that men would purposefully injure a horse. Especially one he'd foaled and trained to this level of competition. Shards, ANY horse, no matter if he was a racer or a draft horse. It wasn't right.

"Glyena, you make your measurements. Here, Swiftsure, here lad. Drop your head, sir."

The stallion obliged. Glyena was torn between the urgency of the situation, the need to be seen as measuring the horse's head,and remembering the measurements, and the beauty of this magnificent stallion right here. Forcing herself to concentrate, she began to measure, using her fists, hands and fingers, memorizing the horse's measurements.

"Healer, I'll move some of the horses to shield us, and I want you to check him out." Rhian gestured to the rest of the horses, and they moved…very conveniently in between them and the crowd.

The healer ran her hands quickly over the stallion's neck. Then she crouched, making her tiny form invisible to anyone watching.

"Nothing here," she said, more to herself than the others. She checked every aspect of the horse with the rapidity of long practice and an innate understanding of the horse's mind.

"He's been worried about something all morning," Ursula said.

The stallion snuffled. To the healer's ear, it didn't sound quite right.

"Rhian, sir, move aside. I need some sunlight," the healer said, looking up from her crouch. Rhian obliged, moving to place his back to the crowd watching.

The healer produced a mirror from somewhere on her person, and shone it up the stallion's nostrils.

Glyena moved aside to give her room.

"Those bastards", she swore, "I thought as much. Thank the egg I have such narrow hands," and she quickly inserted her fingers into the stallion's left nostril.

The stallion's eye's whirled, but he held still, knowing she was helping him.

"Got it," she said, withdrawing a sodden mass.

"What is it?" Glyena asked.

Rhian said, "Glyena, continue measuring the horse, I'll move aside so that the crowd can see what you're doing. Healer, Ursula, K'ndar, could you please go back to the canopy, and say something loud enough to be overheard about how the bridle will look, or something, anything. But, quietly, what did they do?"

"The bastards, it's a sponge. They shoved a sponge up his nose. Not enough to hurt him, but high enough to cut off his wind," the healer said, palming the sponge to keep it from view. "I've only heard of people doing this, I've never seen it before. They're always coming up with something new, they are. The bastards," she swore.

Ursula went white with fury, but controlled herself.

"Glyena, if you're finished with Swiftsure, why don't you measure another horse, any one of these here, to make it appear as if he's not the only one you'll be measuring," Rhian said.

"Yes, sir, but…I hope it won't mess up my measurements of Swiftsure," she said. She turned to a bay gelding, who had been insistent that she pay attention to him. She introduced herself and began to measure the bay.

"Oh, you're SWEET!" Glyena said, entranced. The bay was smaller than the stallion and far less imperious-but far more personable. "Who are you?"

Rhian chuckled, feeling better that the sabotage of his stallion had been rectified. "Oh, this is …well, look at the star on his face. What does it look like?"

She stood back and looked at the marking between the horse's eyes. "Ummmmm, it looks like a drum, a message drum," she said, "is he Drummer?"

"Correct! Aye, lassie, this is Drummer, and he's scheduled to run in the three kilometer race, just before the Ruatha Stakes. I think," Rhian said.

"You…think? You don't know?"

"Nay, I'm not sure," he grimaced, "I had a rider for him, but he..well, Drummer can be hot. No, Drummer IS hot, and subject to spooking. He's quick as lightning. He spooked, not an hour ago, dumped my man, now he's hurt. I don't know if the healers will clear him for riding, although he insisted he was okay, I don't want to risk it. I doubt I'll be able to find a jockey on such short notice. If I can't, I'll have to scratch him," he said. "I could put Ursula up on him, but she's riding Swiftsure in the Stakes, won't have time to warm the stallion up, and I don't condone hot saddling."

Glyena gasped. "Sir, I volunteer, please, let me ride Drummer."

"You?" Rhian looked down at her, "You've ridden races?"

"Yes SIR! At Singing Waters Hold Gather last summer, I won with my own horse, Jordan, at the Run What You Brung race, and then I rode two others for my weyr. My weyr's herdmaster, Nyala, can attest for me. I got beat on the weyr's horses, but I DID race."

Drummer said she was being rude, ignoring him, pushing her elbow for more attention. She absently curled her arm around his head, scratching under his jaw.

"I know Nyala, she's a good horseman," Rhian said, thinking furiously as he contemplated the girl before him. She was small but that was never a bad thing, especially when it came to putting a rider up on a racehorse, and she exuded an air of confidence and comfort around strange horses.

"Lass, this Drummer, he might be a charmer on the ground, but once you're in the saddle, he's a fireball. He's the kind of horse that pushes hard, testing his rider, he's always been the type that's asking, what can I get away with? His rider has been on his back for a season, and he still put him on the ground. If he weren't so bloody fast, I'd have given up on him, maybe sold him to the Wanderers as a cart horse," he said.

"No, not him! He's too pretty!" Glyena protested.

"I said "Cart horse" not draft horse, nor a plow horse, lassie. There's a difference. The Wanderers wouldn't harm him, no way. They're bipedal horses, they are."

He thought hard, balancing his desire to run the horse against the possibility of having another rider hurt.

She could see him weighing the matter in his mind.

"I've ridden some pretty green horses," Glyena said, desperate to prove herself.

"I don't want TWO people hurt," he said, beginning to regret even considering her.

"Please, sir. Let me give it a go. Let me warm him up, and if you think he's too hot for me, well, then, I'll go by your wishes. But I'm sure I can handle him," she begged.

He scratched his chin, thinking. "I'll have to ask your brother, he is your guardian, yes?"

"I don't know what a guardian is that isn't a dog, but K'ndar taught me to ride. If anyone can ride better, it's him. He gave me his Jordan, the best horse on all Pern, when he impressed his dragon," she said, hoping, hoping.

Rhian smiled, seeing another true horseman in the young girl in front of him.

"Guardian, in this context, means he's the adult in charge of you, and any man who gives his best horse to his sister must know what he's doing. Still, I'll ask him. You'll go by his decision. THAT is not negotiable. I bet your mum would skin me alive should you get hurt riding without your brother's permission."

Glyena nodded. "My mum would, sir, with a wooden spoon, and my foster mum, too. And they'd skin ME, for 'being presumptuous' first! But…they know me. I'm Very Responsible For My Age," she said.

He laughed, hearing the capitals.

"First, if you would, please, make a quick circuit of the track, listening for that accent, I'd love to know where those men are from. See if you can locate those who sponged my Swiftsure, please? If you hear them, you come to me as quietly as you can, point them out to me. Lord Jaxom has ways of managing cheaters and criminals.

While you're doing that, I'll talk to K'ndar. IF he approves, I'll take you up on your offer," he said.

Drummer looked at them with mild eyes, belying his true nature. Swiftsure had moved away, comfortable now.

"Then I'll put you up on Drummer to warm him up. If you can handle him-and mind you, my lass, he is a handful-then we'll see if you can ride him in the 3K," he continued.

I'll also let the word out that someone's been tampering with horses, he thought. I want my horses to win, but I also want it to be a fair contest. And perhaps we can find the bastards who did this to my stallion.

"If all goes well, I'll let the stewards know of the rider change to Miss Glyena of Singing Waters Hold up on Drummer."

"Thank you, sir, and excuse me, but I'm from Kahrain Steppe Weyr," she said, proudly.