“I’d say, let’s put her in the round training ring on a lunge line, just in case. Have the dog wait outside the ring while I introduce you to the horse, then if you can get him to approach her calm and sociable like, we’ll see.”

“The last won’t be a problem,” Ivar told him confidently. “I’m eager to see Manta, and that’s a fact. I’ve heard a lot about Valdemar Chargers, but I certainly never expected to be given the use of one.”

“You’re being given more than the use of her, milord,” Grim said, motioning to Ivar to come along to the back of the stable. “The Duke was very specific that she’s to be yours, if you get on.”

Delia thought that Ivar looked a bit shocked as well as elated. But then again, she knew the market price of Valdemar Chargers. There were city houses that were cheaper. In fact, there were entire farms that were cheaper.

She decided that Star could wait a little, and followed them as Grim got Manta from her stall at the back of the stable and led her to the training ring, with Ivar and his dog following at a respectful distance. It was clear from the looks that Manta was casting over her shoulder that she was well aware of the presence of the dog, and not entirely happy about it.

Grim put her on a lunge line and motioned to Ivar to come into the ring. Ivar did not march immediately up to the two. Instead, he stood about a length away and spoke to Manta until she flicked her ears forward and lifted her head, looking at him with interest instead of wariness. Then he approached her slowly, with his right hand in a fist; he offered it to her to sniff, then touched her muzzle with it, all the while talking to her. As soon as he had her full attention, he immediately turned to the side. Delia knew what that was—the invitation to the horse to follow.

Manta was clearly very pleased with this mannerly approach, and followed him. He touched her muzzle again with his fist, continuing to talk to her. Grim let out the lunge line as he turned again, and she continued to follow him. Finally he touched her for the third time on the muzzle, and stopped, opening his hand and moving it up slowly to her neck. She arched her neck in an invitation to him to stroke her. This he did for a good long time, before patting her on the neck, touching her muzzle, and looking where his dog lay patiently just outside the fence of the yard.

“Bay, come under,” he said in a quiet voice, and to Delia’s astonishment, the dog crawled beneath the bottom fence-board rather than leaping over it.