Victory's Price

Mollen - Wolf (Part Twenty-One)

Chapter 21

The rain pattered soothingly against his window. The sound was a pleasant one and whilst it allayed his anger, it was yet to pacify the other darknesses in his mood. Moll knew that eventually he would have to do the right thing and survey the whole homestead. It was his duty to greet his men.

With a sigh and a shake of the head, he pushed himself up from his empty desk and walked towards the wardrobe. He had dressed in finery for court this morning but silks would not hold up against the rain and, at the very least, he owed Teek a greeting.

It took him a while to chose: clothing seemed such a frivolous issue in relation to his other concerns. But eventually he pulled out something sturdy.

It was a strong linen shirt in the style of the old player’s tunics. He pulled on plain trousers and then dropped the short surcoat over his head. It was fully traditional: the linen was undyed and kept its natural colour, as it always had been. The only difference was on the front.

Where a player usually had stitched his own personal namesake, Moll had only the crest of his family. He wore it with pride, though. It was an honour to wear the crossed swords of the Sante family.

The rain was cold today.

Moll pulled the thick collar of his shirt up round his neck and stepped out into its mercy. In the distant East he swore he heard a peal of thunder.

The stables were steaming and he stepped hesitantly onto land he owned but didn’t rule.

“Teek?” Moll called out along the stalls.

The smell of a well tended stable was not exactly an occurrence nobility were supposed to be able to boast of experiencing. But Moll had always quite liked trawling along the stalls. He’d never really known why. It may have had something to do with the warmth. Or the fact that horses were so much easier to deal with than people. Of course, it helped that Teek was just such a straight-forward, down to earth kind of a person. Moll liked him.

“You alright, sir?”

He caught a flash of Teek’s sandy hair in one of the boxes and Moll went to join him, leaning on the stall door. Inside, Teek brushed down Kae using strong, patient strokes.

Toran had never quite shared Moll’s affinity for animals. Some days his brother decided to be a scholar, others a warrior. The problem with Toran was that he just didn’t know what he wanted to be. Horses could sense that.

They liked a man to be sure of himself, it helped them with their own sense of placement. Toran had never quite understood that. He never quite understood himself, he never quite understood horses and he never quite understood people.

“I’m sorry I left him in the courtyard earlier.”

Moll leant forward and gently stroked Kae’s nose. The horse snorted his expectation but Moll had forgotten to pick him up an apple from the kitchen.

“Oh, it’s no worry, sir. This one’s a good ‘n. He knows where his home is.”

“He found his way back?”

“Just waltzed right in, sir. Gave us a tap on the shoulder, asking to be let back in the box.”

“He’s very clever.”

“Oh that he most certainly is.”

For a while Moll was quiet, relishing the soft sounds of rain on the rooftop and a brush through a horse’s coat.