Four Horses For Tishtry (3 page)

“I will do everything I can to justify your confidence in me,” she said, a little stiffly. It was correct to address the master with formality, but the proper phrases came badly to her. “I know I am young. I know I have much to learn. My father has reminded me of this every day since I was six. He probably did so before then, but I no longer recall it. I do not need to be reminded again.”

“You will also have to learn to guard your tongue. I am a liberal master, and I do not want my slaves to be silent, but there are others who are less willing to tolerate such conduct. Remember that when you are in Apollonia.” He panted when he was through, as if he had been running instead of talking. “Have Minish make you some new clothes. Leather leggings and tunica if you like, but with a little more ... dash. Have the leather dyed in bright colors, or fringed, or something so that you do not look like a stable hand. Ask Minish what she suggests. She has seen arena performers. She’ll know what’s best to do.”

“As you wish,” Tishtry said, more baffled than ever by this unexpected kindness. “Is there anything else you require of me, or am I free to finish looking after my team? They need currying.”

“Take care of your team,” Barantosz said with the practicality of a man who had worked with horses for a long time. “When they are stabled and you have seen Minish, then come to my study with your father, and I will see you have a copy of the deed to your horses, as well as a proper chest to keep it in. Nothing too large, so that you may carry it with you. I’ll
also provide a blanket authorization that will permit you to decide how you want to perform, so that you will not find yourself having to argue at a later date.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “You will have to learn more tricks, of course, but you know enough for Apollonia. If you intend to go further, you should start now to learn new tricks.”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about that,” Tishtry said, surprised at the generosity that Barantosz was showing her. “I can jump from back to back of the team while they gallop, but I’ve been trying to find a way to do a somersault in the air while I leap, and then land on the next horse. I can do it coming off the back, but not going from one to another. I also want to find some way to get from the chariot onto their backs without just climbing. It seems so ... ordinary, doing that.”

“A good start,” Barantosz agreed. “And you might teach the horses to do more, you know, to change paces together while you’re on them, or to dance while you’re in the chariot. All those things would be interesting.” He tried to smile, but his face was not used to it and he ended up looking as if he had a headache or a sore tooth. “I could ask some of the other horse breeders who have charioteers, if you like, what tricks their bestiarii can do. You might learn something from—”

It was wrong for a slave to interrupt a master, but Tishtry did. “No, not anyone here. Everyone will have seen what they can do, and will compare me to the others, and all that will happen is that I will look like a beginner, which I am. If I am to learn new tricks, I must think of them myself, or wait until I arrive in Apollonia. Nothing else will work.”

“I had not considered that,” Barantosz said, trying to show his approval.

“I have. It’s all I’ve had to think about these evenings. I want to show you that I can improve.”

“And show your worth so that you can earn enough to buy your family’s freedom,” Barantosz finished for her. “A worthy ambition for you. I have already placed the valuation with the court, and the price is fixed. I have also given my word that I will not sell any of them for a period of five years—barring bankruptcy or war, of course—so that you will have time enough to get the money needed.”

Tishtry stopped walking her horses again. “Why are you being so reasonable? There are other masters who would not do this.”

“There are good reasons for Armenians to cooperate with the Romans. The Romans are very strict in their slave laws, and they are not pleased when their laws are abused. I have a license to sell mules and horses to them, and the authority from our King to breed up to five hundred horses. You are a good girl, Tishtry, and your father is a good man, but none of you are worth that government license. So I will do all that I can to uphold the Roman slave laws, and be careful in my conduct. I want to have another license next year, and the year after that. It is my hope that I will have a thousand horses here in ten years, but that will not happen if the Romans do not approve of how I run my business.” He nodded slowly. “So you see, girl, I have no reason to play you false. And you have every reason to do the best that you are able, so that you may free your family at last. It is in both our interests that you perform and improve.” He stroked Shirdas. “Your horses are a testimony to the quality of my animals. Take good care of them.”

“As you have already reminded me, it is in my best interests to do that.” She lifted her chin to stare at him. “And besides, they are mine.”

Barantosz made a growling sound that Tishtry knew was his way of chuckling. “You’re right; they’re yours.”

IT WAS
difficult
for Tishtry to look at Soduz because she was afraid that she would cry, and that would be wrong. The four months since she had received her team had passed too quickly. She took the cup of watered wine he offered and drank the stuff down much more quickly than she usually did. “Then it is set? I leave in three days?”

“Yes. Barantosz was pleased at the report of his neighbors, and so there’s no reason to keep you here. The Games at Apollonia begin in a month, and this way you will have a little time to get used to the larger arena, and the team can, too.” He coughed once to clear his throat. “I said you’d be ready.”

The time had gone by so fast, Tishtry thought. She had assumed it would be much longer—always in the past the months had crept by. Now she was about to leave and it seemed only a few days ago, not four months, that her master had outlined his plans for her. “I ... I’ll
be ready.”

“Good. There will be a group of trainers going to Apollonia for the spring bidding, and Barantosz has said that you will go with him. After you arrive in Apollonia, he will pay the fees to enter you, and from then it is up to the Master of the Bestiarii to decide where you will do the best.”

“Fine.” She wished that they were not alone. Her mother and her father’s other wife would let her have the chance to cry.

“Macon has almost finished the saddles. She might be able to go with you.” He doubted that Barantosz would be willing to stand the cost of taking another slave with him, but he could see how miserable Tishtry was, and he knew he had to make the effort, even if nothing came of it.

“I’ve practiced with the two she has finished,” Tishtry said, hardly knowing what she meant. Being without Macon was unthinkable. She could not face losing all her family so completely.

“Good. You’ll do fine in Apollonia. I have heard that the crowd there has a love of horses. Your four will please them.”

“I hope so,” she muttered, her mind on other things. She wanted to have a word or two with her groom, so that the horses would not be mishandled when they were got ready for the journey. “Immit is ear shy,” she murmured, and let her father give her a little more wine.

“And Dozei does not like to be approached from the rear,” Soduz finished for her. “I have told the grooms that. They all have heard it from you, and from me. If any of them do wrong, it will not be our mistake.” He put his hand on her shoulder and turned toward the orchard behind the stable. “Come, girl. Let’s walk together. It’s pleasant enough out.”

Tishtry sighed, but allowed herself to be coaxed out into the sunlight. “I ... I don’t want to go.”

“Yes, you do,” Soduz said firmly. “You’re afraid that you will be lonely, and I think it is likely that you will be. That’s natural, my daughter, and you should not feel that you are wrong to miss us. But,” he went on, not giving her any opportunity to argue this point with him, “you are going to have much to do, and there will be little time for you to feel sorry for yourself—”

“Sorry
for myself?” she demanded.

“That is how it might appear to those who do not know you,” he said in his most bracing tone. “You will have to think about your demeanor now, because you will be with many strangers, and most of them will have little reason to give you more than passing attention. It is your conduct that will make the difference, and if you drag about and look hangdog, they will ignore you, and listen to those with a more cooperative attitude. Do you understand me, girl?”

“I am supposed to put on a brave front, and—”

Her father cut her short. “No, not a brave front!” He stopped and looked down at her. “What are you? A half—grown cur prancing and fawning in the hope of finding a master? No! You are the best trick rider our family has ever had, and we have been trick riders for generations. You have only to be what you are, girl, and you will shine. I thought you’d learned the difference between courage and bravery. Any fool can show bravery, but it takes courage to jump from the back of one galloping horse to the back of another, and smile while you do it. Keep
that
in mind when you meet strangers, and recall that we would not let our freedom ride on you if you were not the finest rider in this family.”

To her chagrin, Tishtry began to speak, and instead burst into tears. Her face went scarlet and she tried to turn away.

“No, no, girl. There’s no shame in weeping.” Soduz clapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. “You’re a good girl, and a superb horsewoman, and there is no reason you cannot rise as high as anyone in the arenae of the Empire. The new Emperor likes chariot races and charioteers, and so even Roma is not beyond your grasp.” He patted her in rough comfort. “You’ll do us proud, I am certain of it.”

She was able to make a muffled reply, but even she thought it made little sense.

Apparently this did not bother Soduz. “Come, Tishtry, let it out now, while it will trouble no one. I don’t want Barantosz thinking he has made a mistake. The man is so easily flustered that we must take great care with him, so that he will not be misled.” He drew her with him to a bench under the trees. “Now, girl, pay attention to me.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yes, Father,” she sniffed.

“Barantosz will change his mind a dozen times before you reach Apollonia, and it will be up to you to remain firm in your purpose and tell him that you are eager to go on. Otherwise he will lose heart and it will be another year at least before he will be able to undertake such a venture. If he sees that you are faltering, he will abandon the whole thing, and we will be the worse for it.”

“All right,” she said, more confidently.

“He may be the master and we his slaves, but it will not be the first time that the slaves have made the master. Keep that thought before you and you will know how best to go on.” He paused a moment, then poured her more wine from the jug he carried. “He will give many orders, of course, but you will have to keep the purpose in mind. The grooms will look to you for guidance, not Barantosz, and if you do not stay firm, there could be trouble. Remember, they are
your
horses, not Barantosz’s, and you must care for them or they will suffer for it.”

“I will.” She felt some of the fear that had been gnawing at her leave her mind.

“And you will have to be sure that no one in Apollonia is mistaken in your purpose. You are not there to race—not that they would permit a woman to race, but still—you are there to perform, and to do tricks that none of the racing charioteers could do in a decade of practice.” He stopped, and his manner softened. “I am going to miss you, girl.”

This time she controlled her sobs, though she felt her eyes fill. “When you are free, Father, then perhaps we will see each other again.”

“Yes,” he said, and they both knew it was a lie.

“The gods will favor us,” she said, aware that now he was the one who needed cheering. “It will not be long before you are free.”

“I am certain of it.” He stood up. “There is going to be a feast tomorrow, to honor you and to reassure our master. No sadness then, Tishtry. You must learn to smile for him.”

“As I do when I jump from horse to horse?” she asked, attempting to smile for her father and failing.

“It’s something like practice,” he said, and Tishtry saw with amazement that Soduz, her hearty, practical father, was fighting back tears.

She set her cup aside and got to her feet. “I won’t fail you, Father.”

At last he had to look away. “I know.”

* * *

Macon came running into the room where her family kept the tack for their horses. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright, and when she spoke, her voice was high with excitement. “Oh, Father! Barantosz has said I’m to go with Tishtry. He didn’t refuse!”

Soduz turned from his work to look at her. “You spoke to him?”

“Just now. I said that I would need time to prepare my equipment, and there is only a day to do it.” She dragged one of the three—legged stools away from the wall and sat, reaching for the largest leather satchel in the room. “I’ll take my gear and enough supplies to make Tishtry another saddle and bridle, so she will have a spare, in case anything happens.”

“Have you told her yet?” Soduz asked. He was rubbing oil into a pair of reins, testing them for suppleness as he worked.

“Not yet. I thought I’d find her as soon as I’ve packed.” She was gathering up supplies as she spoke, and she tried hard not to rush, knowing that she was likely to forget something if she did.

“Very good. Does your mother know?” He asked it awkwardly; it was difficult to lose two children at the same time.

“Not yet.” She looked up, her expression serious. “I will
not
be sold. He gave me his word on that. I will return here.” She took a half—completed wooden frame. “He knows I’m a good saddler and he doesn’t want to set a value on me that will make it apparent that I have great skill. So it follows that he will keep me. That’s sensible.”

“He also gave his word that the family would be kept intact for five years, so that Tishtry might have the chance to earn enough to free us.” He said it slowly, wondering if it would be possible. Tishtry had done her best to appear confident, but in the last day, Soduz was beginning to doubt their chances.

“Then I will be returning,” Macon said calmly. “And there is no reason to fear.” She picked up two scrapers. “Which one shall I leave for you?”

“The bone—handled one,” Soduz answered.

Macon went on with her packing, then said, “I wish now that one of us could read and write. That way, we could send word to you that all is well, and inform everyone of how Tishtry is doing.”

“I couldn’t read the message in any case,” Soduz told her.

“Yes, but there are those here who could, and that way ... well, it doesn’t matter. Whoever learned to read in less than a day?” Macon sighed as she looked around the room. “I need thongs and twine. Where are they?”

“Second shelf under the window. Leave some for me,” Soduz said, then gave her a long, steady look. “Guard yourself, child, and your sister. Slaves are vulnerable, and you are woman enough for men to want you.”

“That’s for Barantosz to say,” Macon reminded her father.

“Still, you should take care. Barantosz isn’t one to protest too much for his slaves.” He shook his head. “When the time comes, I hope he’ll choose well for you, Macon.”

“So do I,” Macon answered wistfully. “Tishtry’s safe enough—no woman rides well carrying a child, let alone does tricks, and that’s her value to our master. He won’t let Tishtry be any man’s woman as long as she can win for him in the arena. If she ever wants a man for herself, she’ll have a hard time convincing Barantosz to allow it.” She gave a short, wise laugh. “As long as I’m with her, he’ll make sure I’m safe enough. He’s too nervous to risk letting either one of us find a man for a while.”

“Perhaps,” her father said. “But have a care in any case.”

“Do you think any man we’re likely to meet will be foolish enough to hazard the penalties for abusing a slave? Barantosz will take care to see we’re guarded.”

“I think that many men are foolish where women are concerned, and women where men are,” Soduz said. “And the penalties for slave abuse won’t stop a fool.” He nodded to himself. “You’re a clever girl, like your sister, but you’ve got sense enough to be cautious. That benefits you, but it hinders you as well. If only Tishtry weren’t quite as impetuous as she is.” He fell silent. “Macon, if we were free, it wouldn’t matter. But until we are, we must be practical and sensible at all times. You know that, even if Tishtry doesn’t.”

Macon came to his side. “You’re saying that you’ll worry about us,” she corrected him. “Father, at least we’re not being sold.”

Soduz chuckled ruefully. “You’re right. I am worried.”

“I will thank the gods for your care,” Macon promised him, then lifted her satchel with difficulty.

“You’re carrying a lot,” Soduz remarked, trying to make light of their parting.

“You taught me that I should always have what I need on hand,” Macon said, then kissed his cheek. “I’ll come back, Father. I will.”

Soduz patted her hand, but said nothing.

* * *

It was a blustery morning when Barantosz gathered his little cavalcade together and started out for Apollonia. Most of the household came out to bid them a safe journey and to wish them well in the venture.

“I will send word back, my word on it,” Tishtry called out to her mother, waving for the entire gathering to see. She knew that her father was depending on her to show enthusiasm and eagerness, so she resolutely kept the tears from her eyes and determinedly smiled and called out encouragement to those around her. Mounted on Shirdas, she let the chestnut curvet and sidle, showing his mettle; she felt his tension through the reins, and kept her hands light. “Have a care!”

“The gods favor you!” Soduz shouted, gesturing to the rest of his family to wave heartily. “Do us honor!”

Tishtry held up her hand to them, accepting this charge with purpose. “I will!”

Barantosz, riding in a biga pulled by matched blacks, came abreast of her and scowled. “I want you to take the second place in line, behind me.”