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Nelson didn't bat an eyelid at the fact that Oliver didn't know how to ride. It seed a startling contrast from everyone else who'd learned of it, including Nebular, who'd abruptly looked up, after having spent so much ti lost in thought.
"Oh, aye," Nelson said, nodding. "He'd be glad to, I think, if you ask him kindly. Sure, he's a bit too big for a young lad like our Ser Patrick here, but if we adjust the stirrups, then it's just a matter of getting into the saddle."
"You think?" Verdant looked considerably relieved to have Nelson's approval on the matter, as though Nelson's word was the Gods' very truth.
"I know so. Why don't you go up and ask him? 'Ere, Ser Patrick, and apple for you. I think as an introduction to a horse, few things work better than that," Nelson said, pulling a green apple from a sack dangling from his belt.
Oliver tossed it in his hand. There was sothing about apples that seed to demand that one throw it up and down a couple of tis before really appreciating it for what it was. "Thank you, Nelson," he said.
"Thank you as well, young Ser," Nelson said. "Rare to get treated as a person when you first et a nobleman. I can see that your father raised you right, despite all the muck they talk about him. Rest assured, I don't believe a word of it."
"Thank you," Oliver said again, more quietly this ti.
"Ser Patrick," Nelson said, following after him as he went over to et Casper, "I think it's possible. The beasts though, they're exceptionally strong…"
"Be that as it may, we will tend to them. I have a few n that can pull a sled, will that be sufficient to carry it all back?" Oliver asked.
"It should be," Nebular said. "Though none of them are quite as gold efficient as killing a Hobgoblin, there are fewer usable parts, and more than a few require multiple ingredients for the recipes that they create. But with the gold that we've earned in previous weeks, I should be able to afford to buy those added ingredients."
"Good," Oliver said. "Just to confirm, with a fifty-fifty arrangent, this would net us one hundred gold coins each?"
Nebular hesitated a second, before nodding. "I think so. Barely. As for your earlier question, what makes worthy of a fifty-fifty arrangent? Distribution is again my answer. I will have to put ti again into growing my store.
There will be such a variety of potions from these different ingredients that I will not be able to sell them to one type of custor. I will need a steady stream."
"Very good," Oliver said again. "Then we've got an agreent," he extended his hand for a shake. Nebular took it in his bony fingers and sealed the agreent. "Send a shopping list when you get ti to write it down. It will have to be next weekend that I hunt. This weekend I… have a mission for the High King."
"A mission for the High King?" Nebular's eyes widened. No doubt the news of the trial had spread. "Right. Right, of course. I'll make arrangents. I can't trouble you too much.
You're an important man now, after all."
He bowed as he left. A strange sight. The passing comnt of 'a mission from the High King' seed to have shaken him. Oliver had said it more as an ironic joke, phrasing it as though he was doing the High King a favour, but of course, Nebular and he were not close enough for the boy to have caught on to that.
As Oliver joined Verdant, an idea began to take root in his mind.
…
…
Within half an hour, they'd sequestered themselves a quiet patch of grass, away from the equestrian court and away from the stables. There was a full field – separate from the equestrian court – for running the horses when they needed it. Their little space amongst the trees was only a short distance away from that.
Nelson had explained the dangers of learning to ride when there were trees about, even if there were so few of them, but Oliver had insisted regardless. He didn't want to be seen falling off a horse and struggling madly to control it if he didn't have to.
The beauty of the trees as well was that their upper canopy kept so snow off the ground, and closer to the trunks, there was still so grass sticking through. This was not an area that had been cleared too thoroughly of snow, after all, which all gave it so rit as a training location, provided that the snow offered so sort of cushion.
Oliver had hold of Casper's reigns. The horse was standing calmly, occasionally walking in a circle when he grew bored of their conversation. The black horse's coat shone like a mirror, as did the saddle on its back. It was clear to see that he was a well-tended to animal. Oliver didn't think he'd ever seen a beast healthier.
"Now, those stirrups should be the right height, but you let know if they need adjusting. When you're relaxed, Casper will be relaxed too. Even if it's only a little out of place, you let know," Nelson said. The stablehand had insisted on following them on their riding lesson.
Apparently he'd done all his duties hours before and was solving problems that didn't need solving for fear of the boredom taking over.
"Right," Oliver said. Nelson had already explained this to him, but he appreciated the care that the stablemaster was putting in nonetheless. When one had to contend with an animal the size of Casper, you wanted to be more than sure you were doing things right.
"Now, you jump up with one foot in the stirrups, and you swing your leg over. It's a long way up, but make sure you don't pull on them reins to help yourself. You'll only hurt Casper and make things harder for yourself if you mistreat 'im," Nelson was telling him.
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