The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Woods

"I see," was all the response Able was up to giving.

"Did you need to send it today?"

"I...well, if it's going to be so involved, I should wait until we come back tomorrow, right?"

"Good." Lark looked relieved as he stood with his dishes. "Enjoy your breakfast. I'm going to go talk to Laughter and see if we can amend our deal. Then I'll be back for you."

Able agreed, and Lark took his dishes into the kitchen and then left. Hatling brought breakfast out for Able shortly after.

"Thank you so much," he said as she set the plate before him.

Instead of acknowledging that, she reseated herself and leaned forward on her elbows with mischief twinkling in her eyes. "Sorry for eavesdropping, but who is the letter for?"

"My mother," Able replied around his first bite with a wry smile and swallowed before he continued. "But you probably guessed that, since you were asking."

"Oh, no, I'm not one to assume anyone's family is still intact," she stated. "I am glad you still have your mother."

"As am I." Able was struck by how deeply he meant it. However much her nagging and worrying bothered him, he didn't want to think about life without her. And he didn't have to, because Hatling completely derailed his train of thought.

"I just had been wondering if it was meant for a lady-friend. Or even a wife and children. You seem about the age."

"Oh," Able demurred.

"I see." She nodded and smiled to herself.

Able often wondered why old women cared so much about this sort of thing but had no desire to ask now. Rather, he felt compelled to finish eating and prepare to meet Lark on the street as quickly as possible.

He'd been sitting on the bottom step for ten minutes when Lark trotted up on the broad back of a particularly fat horse. Able stood and consoled himself that the animal's back wasn't higher than his chest. Lark pulled up in front of him, and the horse was probably only too happy to stop.

"You ready to go, then?" Lark's legs stuck out to the sides around the animal's round belly, yet he looked perfectly comfortable.

"I am." Able took a hesitant step forward. "So, uh, do I climb up, or—"

Lark hopped down and took the animal's bridle. "Nope. First, you meet Fox and see she is not scary at all. She's a big sweetie." And now Able had a horse face very near to his person. All she did, though, was languidly blink and blow a long stream of air across him.

"Do I pet her or something? Let her sniff my hand?"

"She'd like to sniff you, yes, and she also likes having her neck scratched." Lark was grinning. He just enjoyed everything, didn't he?

Able put his hand out and, as the horse indeed snuffled it with prickly whiskers and warm mucus, made a presentation of it not bothering him. "Why 'Fox?' Is it because she's red?"

"Ha, practically half of all horses are red. I'm not sure. Probably has something to do with the Fox Star, would be my guess."  The inn had been called the Bear Star, hadn't it?

"What's the Fox Star?" Able asked.

"Brightest star in the fox constellation," Lark gestured towards the overcast, daytime sky, but his point was made. "The Fox is the first to rise during the grain harvest. The grain thrives or withers on her whim. It's a good sign to see foxes in the fields, catching the mice and rats that might otherwise spoil the harvest. No foxes is not a good sign. So...maybe Laughter is cheating a little and naming his field horse Fox." He laughed himself.