Horse-Breaking

 

‘Big Cove?’, thought Tanner Hawkwood. ‘Who in their right mind has a horse ranch in farming and fishing country? But if King John says that the Tyson ranch is the place to go, then that’s where we’ll go’.

 

Tanner couldn’t believe his luck, or rather Annah’s, Faolan’s, and his luck. After surviving a Red Leg ambush on the way to Sunshine, The Couriers had been blessed with the acquisition of warhorses. Not mustangs, country nags, quarter-horses, or even palfreys. No, this was the real deal. Bona fide warhorses that could kill a man on their own. Warhorses that could drive a lance through the most powerful plate mail. Aquila, Tanner’s bay, was fast, smart, and loyal. You couldn’t ask for a better horse. But a warhorse….force = mass times acceleration, or so one of his books said, and Comet was bigger and faster than Aquila.

 

 

Tanner picked a gray horse with a cranky disposition. He had seen the horse run hard and fast. ‘Like a comet in the winter’s sky’. And so the horse was named Comet. Tanner had been truly blessed. Or so he thought at the time, and he still felt that way in early January when he arrived back in Brown’s Ferry and went and saw King John. It wasn’t going too stay that way.

 

Faolan and Tanner went to see Miss Macon next. Miss Macon’s house was always a wonderful place to visit. Tanner truly cared about the woman. Not in some kind of romantic way like most men. More like one’s favorite aunt. Miss Macon was one of the few people who could get Tanner to do a job for no money. Considering the fact that Pasha was the only person who loved the acquisition of money more than Tanner did (or so he thought), this was saying a lot. Out of all the rich and powerful people Tanner had met, Miss Macon was the only one who didn’t think he was a loon for trying to build anything and everything. Her acceptance of Tanner for whom he was, with all the faults of greed, peculiarity, and low birth, meant a lot to him.

 

Tanner let Faolan do the talking; this was something Faolan did far more effectively, or at least more, than Tanner did. Besides, there was Miner Water to drink. Miner water far more powerful than wine or Tanner’s favorite brew, Olde Anglia 800. A glass of the water went down. Generously, Faolan gave Tanner his glass, after taking the small sip that good manners required. Life was good. Faolan gave a stirring account of the ambush on the tar stone road and the assault on Fort Necessity, aka Fort Annah. The thought that the Red Legs were out to get Annah gave all parties a moment’s pause. Well, all except Annah, who had slipped into the room.

 

And then Faolan pulled out that dagger. A grim look crossed Tanner’s face. Anything that came from the Underworld was bad enough. Well, maybe not Batar and Arana, but anything else was. A weapon was worse. A weapon from that dark witch who had nearly killed Daren was unspeakable. It even made Miss Macon flinch. Miss Macon said something about the dagger, that is was meant to kill someone else from the Underworld. Whatever. ‘Just put the thing away’ thought Tanner. Fortunately, Faolan did so. And then, as if by magic, Tanner had another glass of miner water. ‘Life is good’….

 

‘Tanner.’, Miss Macon said steadily. Tanner snapped to attention. ‘Ma’am?’

 

‘You know the situation of the Bexar people’.

 

‘I know there aren’t many of them left. Samson said something about packing up the younger ones, including Queen Bexar, off to the Chekot, Chekmix, Chek something or other, and marrying them off to keep the Bexar nation alive, in some shape or another.

 

‘Yes, Tanner, that is a brief, somewhat accurate description of the situation. Bexar has no problem with the young brave and the healers going off to marry. But she won’t stand to be married to someone from what she considers an inferior tribe. There’s previous history there, going generations back that gives the queen’s feelings some merit. The queen may come to you and try to convince you to talk Samson out of this arranged marriage.’

 

‘Ack!’ coughed Tanner. “First Annah, and now you, ma’am? Annah said the queen might do this. But why me? I can barely say my name in a situation which calls for tact! If you want me to talk of war machines, military tactics, building bridges, or good ale, not a problem. But I can’t win an argument with someone. Faolan would be a better choice than me. He’s talked us out of more scraps than I can remember. He’s the one she needs, not me.’

 

Miss Macon spoke calmly. It was almost comical, a slender, elegant woman, talking calmly to a man who had killed and burned his way across the Frontier, but now he looked like a child who had been told he might have to do something he didn’t want to.

 

‘Tanner. There’s a reason Bexar might choose you. Of all the people she can turn to now, you’re unique. In fact, you’re unique in Brown’s Ferry among the men of war. You don’t brag, embellish stories, lie, or twist the truth. You try to tell things as you see them, and not glorify yourself. This is rare. Bexar finds this quality rare in the Frontier Lands. Regrettably, she is correct. Because of your forthrightness, she may ask you to intervene.’

 

‘Aw! Annah said the same thing coming back from Helena yesterday. I told her Faolan was the man for this kind of thing, not me. Good grief, I’m a mercenary, engineer, caravan guard even, but not a diplomat’.

 

‘Tanner, I know this isn’t something you usually do. And it may not be what you are supposed to do. But, you may be asked to do this thing. As her friend, you may have to’.

 

‘Friend? She’s a princess, not a queen. I have served her, but I never thought of her as my friend. I’m the son of poor farmers, not meant to call those better than me ‘friend’.’

 

Faolan rolled his eyes at Tanner's pathetic belief in the notion of 'betters', but he held his silence, particularly since Miss Macon likely held those same notions.

 

‘Tanner, you need to open your eyes and look at what’s out there. Not all things can be reckoned through a ledger book or a scale diagram’. Miss Macon was still calm, but she looked into Tanner’s eyes with a glance that would have brought even the most drunken sell-sword to attention. Any further arguments Tanner had drained away, leaving him to look like a man who had drank too much miner water (which he had).

 

‘Oh just marry the woman off’, said Faolan. ‘Getting married to one of her own people wouldn’t be a bad idea. Hell, she'd probably be running the Checot in no time. Do you think she’d want to hang around here and marry a prosperous merchant? She’d die of boredom. At least she’s familiar with life in The Borderlands’.

 

Miss Macon said that there was truth to this, but not to speak of it anymore. And Faolan and Tanner did as they were told.

 

 

And now Faolan and Tanner were on the way to Tyson’s Ranch. Faolan was complaining about dinner at the Bexar manse the night before. Or rather, Faolan was complaining about getting naked in a sweat lodge with the healer girls and then… nothing. No fooling around at all. It was almost as if they were a distraction from something else.

 

‘They were.’, said Tanner. And Tanner did what he always did. Tell the truth. About how Queen Bexar had talked him to regarding what Annah and Miss Macon said she would. About why the Queen would not marry into the Checot tribe. The history between the Checot and the Bexar. About how marriage would demean the memory of her family and her nation. And that Queen Bexar needed Tanner to talk Faolan into helping him talk Samson out of this arranged marriage.

 

‘There have been four women who could get anything from me in my lifetime.’ said Tanner. ‘One was my mother, but all she asked for was help around the farm. I had no problem with that. Another was my little sister Sheryn. I’d carry her around the farm on my back, and play any number of games with her. Mother was killed by Red Legs at the end of the war. Sheryn... I don't like to think about it. Miss Macon is the third. And I think you know who the fourth woman is’.

 

‘Tanner, you’re a thrice-damned fool. Damned for getting involved with a foreign woman, damned again for getting involved with a noble, and triply-damned for getting involved with one under Samson's protection. You’re a tough ol’ boy, Books. I’ve seen you hack a witch’s head off, gut Red Legs like so many hogs, and cleave an ape man in half. But going up against Samson is crazy.

 

‘I don’t intend to fight him. I am only going to talk to him.’

 

‘Yeah, well, you might not intend to fight, but that doesn’t really matter if Samson chooses to do so’.

 

‘All I ask is that you don’t stand in the way. No more, no less’.

 

Faolan looked at him long and hard. ‘It’s your life. I don’t think you know what you’re getting into. But I'll stand by you, and do my best to keep Samson from killing you. Just try not to bleed on my new cloak’.

 

‘Thanks friend.’, said Tanner. ‘I’ll cross the Samson Bridge when I get to it’.

 

 

Old man Tyson was a mountain of man, but his geniality matched his size. Tanner told him that King John had recommended him, and one couldn’t tell what pleased Tyson more, the recommendation or the fine quality of horse he was going to work with.

 

Faolan and Tanner started to train, and everything was going great…until Samson showed up, riding to race the wind, and leading what had been Annah’s warhorse. Samson had seen Comet, and had been mightily impressed. There was a hint of joy and happiness that Tanner had never seen in Samson, even before the Death of Bexar. Tanner knew some people loved horses, but he had never seen anything like this. Samson had inquired about the availability of such horses, and Tanner told him about the two that had been sold in Helena. Samson must have made a mental note that only Faolan and Tanner were the only ones going to break horses, and that Annah was not going. Samson had beaten Toomsuba into shape to serve as an adequate guard of Queen Bexar, and had jumped at the chance to get away. This was probably his first time 'off duty' in years, if not decades.

 

The training was going to take two weeks, and while the training went well, Tanner was ill at ease. Maybe that was why he drank more than usual. Tanner never drank like this when working. His work didn’t suffer. Tanner learned how to deliver a foal, how to pick out a good horse from a herd, and how to breed horses. But most importantly, Comet and Tanner learned to work well together. By the end of the training, Comet responded well to Tanner. It wasn’t the relationship that Tanner and Aquila had, but it had that potential. All of the training went well, but…

 

He had to speak to Samson. Tanner figured he would do it after the training was done. And so it happened.

 

After the mid-day meal, Tanner approached Samson, and asked to speak to him. Samson leaned up against a fence, while Tanner stood straight. Faolan, Tyson, Tyson’s sons, and a few ranch hands were about 15 yards away.

 

‘Samson, it’s about Queen Bexar and the Checot nation.’

 

‘What about it?’

 

‘She wants no part of an arranged marriage’.

 

Samson stood up, and a look that would bend steel crossed his face. Faolan quickly moved closer to his friend, while the rest jumped up to attention.

 

‘Really?’, said Samson. ‘And why does this concern you?’

 

‘Normally it wouldn’t and I’d mind my own business. But at dinner, while you were off smoking, and Faolan was off in the sweat lodge, Queen Bexar told me the story of the truce between the Checot and the Bexar that was won by her great-grandfather. How he’d pinned the Checot King for ten drumbeats, and so had won peace.’

 

‘If she were to have to take a Checot brave as a husband, what would her life be? Cooking and cleaning to start with. Not something a queen is fit for. But what would the Checot say behind her back? They would mock the memory of her great-grandfather. His victory would count for nothing. It would be as if it never happened.’

 

‘There are worse things than being a housewife’, said Samson. ‘Do you think Bexar would marry a merchant? Not likely. I have seen what happens to frontier women with no husbands and no means of support. They end up working in brothels with no honor. Men such as yourself and Faolan take your pleasure with them.’ Samson’s face became harder, if that was possible. ‘Do you wish to see Bexar working for Lady Blue?’

 

Tanner heart raced, and his palms sweated. Witches, sorcerers, and Red Legs had never caused him fear, but Tanner thought he might actually die.

 

‘No I don’t want to see her in such a place. But think of this. You say you want to keep the Bexar stories alive, so that you will never be forgotten. But if Toomsuba and the healers marry into the Chicot tribe, won’t they be swallowed up? Will not there children be raised as Checot, not Bexar? A Checot marriage won’t keep the nation alive. It is a good thing for the healers to be married; what you say about unsupported frontier women is true. The healers should have the chance to have a good life and raise children.

 

‘But the Queen?’ said Tanner.

 

‘She is Queen no more’, said Samson. Slowly he moved towards Tanner. ‘There is no Queen of the dead’.

 

‘Her nation may almost be extinct. But she is still a Queen. And you would have a queen become a common squaw? Because she will no longer be Queen Bexar. She’ll be just a common squaw, and the victory won by King Bexar might not as well have happened.’

 

Tanner stood his ground as Samson moved closed. Tanner didn’t move, but the sweat poured off his face. For the first time since they met, Tanner would have seen a very worried look on Faolan’s face, if he had been able to see Faolan. They were less than arm’s length apart.

 

‘Samson, I respect your judgment. But her place is in a marriage of equals, and no Checot is her equal. I don’t think she’ll have to worry about support. Something tells me that she won’t be in a brothel, unless she is dragging Faolan or myself out of it. I doubt the Queen will have a problem finding the right path for herself. But I do believe that her path is not a Checot marriage.

 

Samson’s stare bored into Tanner. Tanner’s throat started to get a knot in it.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, Samson turned to Faolan and asked if all this were true.

 

‘Yes’, answered Faolan. ‘I wanted no part of this, but I'm here to try to keep you from killing him. Otherwise, I’d see that he got a decent funeral.’

 

Samson, his face tight, said 'You are a good friend'. Samson's face went from a look that would bend steel to one that would only break wood. A moment later, he stomped off.

 

Tanner relaxed, as did the rest of the group. Tyson's eldest son had a look of ‘I can’t believe anyone stood up to Samson and lived’. The ranch hands and Faolan breathed easier and made themselves tell small jokes. Old man Tyson looked at the group and said, ‘Tanner, you’ve got some cojones. Maybe no sense of self preservation, but you have cojones. I think you may actually live’.

 

Tanner leaned up against the fence and let his heart calm down. His palms had about dried off when Samson came back. Everyone paused, and the tension couldn’t be cut with a battle axe. Samson came up to Tanner. Surprisingly, Samson’s look was calm.

 

‘It shall be as Bexar wants. She will not have to marry a Checot. Bexar is dead’. Samson proceeded to drink heavily, and the rest joined in.

 

Everyone breathed another sigh of relief. Old man Tyson herded everyone into the common room and opened a jar. “This jug has something we call miner water. It’s aged for twenty four years, and you’ve had nothing like it. A toast to the men of this room; “To us and those like us; There's damn few of us left”. Tanner wondered about that, but old man Tyson was right. This was the best stuff. Light yellow color, and it burned going down.

 

‘Smooth’ coughed Tanner. Tanner thought back to Xara’s prophesy about a friend and drink and toasts, but Faolan didn’t say anything, though he was tempted to toast what Samson called the Death of Bexar.

 

The next day, they all rode back to Brown’s Ferry. Aquila had benefited from some extra care at the ranch, and seemed to move better than he had in a year. Maybe a little bit of rest and relaxation did him good. Comet carried himself like he and Tanner had known each other for years. Samson went off to the Bexar manse, and Faolan and tanner went to their lodgings.

 

The next morning Tanner went to Miss Macon. Annah was there. Did she always have to be around? 99 percent of the time was fine, but that other 1 percent was a pain. He gave them the report of all that had conspired. They seemed to already know the results. 99 things might surprise Tanner, but this wasn’t one of them. They seemed pleased. ‘And yet again, I get manipulated, I think’, muttered Tanner to himself.

 

And then he went to the Bexar manse. Toomsuba greeted him with the traditional handshake and big grin. The healers giggled like young girls at the sight of Tanner; he’d never figure them out. And then there was a Samson. They gave each other the handshake. Samson smiled, and almost looked relieved. Tanner then went into a room where Bexar was waiting.

 

Tanner explained he had done the best that he could with Faolan and Samson, and hoped that it met with her approval. ‘Thank you. I will be able to do as I wish’, said Bexar.

 

‘But what it is you want to do?’ said tanner.

 

‘I’ll learn the ways of the frontier, its people and customs. Maybe I’ll go off adventuring with some brave men. To hear Faolan tell it, someone who wields magic is useful’. Bexar shot tanner a sly smile.

 

Tanner would have choked on his ale if he had been drinking. ‘Uhhm, that’s very well. I am sure you’ll do well.’

 

‘I know you are going to train now. Perhaps one day you will teach me some of your skills one day. We can discuss this in the sweat lodge sometime’. Bexar’s smile told tanner that he wasn’t in control of anything, and that she was a cat and he a mouse. Tanner stammered a ‘yes ma’am’ and left the manse.

 

Tags: Side Stories, Tanner Hawkwood