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“Outlaws! They’ve got Lord Eodwine? Can we go, too?”
“I don’t think so, Javan,” answered Léof distractedly as he unclipped the general’s horse from the aisle. That was the first thing – to get this tired horse out of the way and into a stall.
“But why?” asked Javan.
“Start pulling horses out,” Léof reminded him first, then added, “It’s not your place, that’s why.” Léof could think of several reasons, the primary one being Javan’s age. Besides, Léof would not feel comfortable permitting Javan to do something like this – he would want Thornden’s approval first.
But what about for himself? Léof wondered if he ought to ride out as well. He was a skilled enough rider, and probably old enough – Gárwine would probably going, now that Léof thought of it, and they were of an age. But he was the ostler, without any skill in weaponry. What use would he be out there in the wilderness, except to bolster the party’s numbers? Of course, these would be brigands, not soldiers; perhaps no real fighting would be required.
Troubled in thought, Léof set about speedily readying several horses for riding, lugging saddles and bridles out from the tack room and cinching them on the horses as quickly as he could. In this, at least, he was of some real use. There was no time for the brushing that he would normally give a horse before it went out riding. Occasionally he threw out a comment to Javan, but for the most part his concentration was dedicated to the horses, and soon the men to ride them began pouring into the stable.
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