The Eastern Woman

Dawn

"I want that one."

Goneril had found a horse farm in the great city of Pelargir, capital of the Pelennin, one of the districts of Gondor.

Ten years before the battle at Helm's Deep, old General Mainard had led his  legionaries to the great realm of men, in search of new jobs.
For weeks they have been allocating in that place, without having concluded anything, given the period of relative peace.  A small army of mercenaries could not easily find work, without impending wars.  Having enough time, the young warrior had had the opportunity to look around and think about her business.  She remembered Amon's advice

(get a good horse)

and the time had come to find one.

There was, in the city, a famous breeder named Ossian, who had founded a prestigious farm.  He said his animals cost a fortune.

One afternoon, on September, she had decided to visit him.

"Are you seriously saying you want to buy one of my horses? Do you have any idea how much they cost?"  the old man had asked: he was not much taller than her, and could have been sixty years old.  He had dedicated his whole life to horses.  Ask me to show you poetry in motion, and I'll show you a horse, he used to say.

"I spent a good part of my life selecting the best stallions and the best mares. I believe, well...I'm sure, that a girl like you can't afford one of my animals. I don't know if you understand me. "  He had said.

"Money is not a problem. I want that one."  it had been Goneril's reply. She had indicated a black foal: the little horse jumped happily in a small enclosure.  It had just been weaned.

"That one is too young. And it is really beyond your possibilities. It descends from the horse of an elven king. I am waiting for it to grow up to start training it, and then I will offer it to some sovereign, or governor. If you really insist, look over there:  we have foals already trained a little, they cost less and I can sell them even now. They are excellent specimens, too. "  Ossian had explained.

"One hundred golden coins."  Goneril had replied dryly. 

Ossian had rolled his eyes for a brief moment.  "I don't think you understood me. That one is not for you. Don't make me repeat what I say."

"One hundred and fifty."  she had continued.  "I don't care that it's not trained. I'll train it by myself."

"How come a girl has so much money?"  Ossian had asked incredulously.

"It's not your business. So what's your answer?"  she had insisted.  "I don't think you would receive a similar offer from others."

"Yes, I would. I sold horses for three hundred golden coins, my dear young lady. These numbers don't impress me. And with that foal, I could get four hundreds coins."  the ineffable breeder had replied.

"Two hundred. They will all be in your hands today." she had offered. Ossian would have accepted, Goneril knew that. Just as she knew he had never sold a horse for three hundred golden coins. In those days, a palace could be built with a similar sum. No king worthy of that title would have wasted so much money on a horse. The merchants were astute and liars, but so was Goneril.

Ossian had hesitated, then his forehead had filled with droplets of sweat. Of course, it was an impressive sum for a foal.

"Are you thinking about it ?! I can hardly believe it. You should accept without saying a word." Goneril had said.

"Alright then." the man had surrendered. "But you won't have this animal before you bring me the bag with the coins. And before the sunset, or you won't get that horse." he had grumbled, a little annoyed at having to accept. But two hundred coins were two hundred coins, and that winter he should have rebuild all the stables and the fences. Yes, he needed her money.