Behind her, three young courtiers were bent over their hands and their saddle-bows, cursing and gasping. The Prince was on the ground, also gasping; not a surprise, given that the hammer blow of hooves to his gut must have driven every bit of air that had been in his lungs out of them. But he could have had broken ribs—

:He doesn’t,: Kantor said. :Though he’ll have black-and-blue hoofprints on his belly for days. Caryo didn’t actually kick him; it was more like a calculated and very powerful shove.:

Keren got to the Prince first; rolled him on his side, then slammed him across the back until he could breathe again, then helped him to his feet, talking the whole time. Alberich reached them just in time to hear her finish.

“—terrible insult. Like putting a slave collar around your neck, Highness,” she said. Alberich could tell, though, that the Prince wasn’t listening. He was red-faced now, and it was with anger.

“I will hunt that beast down this moment, and I don’t care who it belongs to,” he said between clenched teeth. “And I will destroy it.”

Enough was enough. Alberich seized both his shoulders, turned him so that he was looking right into Alberich’s eyes, and shook him twice. Hard. Like a wolf with a snake. “Then on trial for murder and treason you will be, and pay for both with your life!” he rasped harshly. “To kill a Companion is murder by Valdemaran law. To kill the Queen’s Companion, treason. Do not force your bride to hang you, Prince, for she will.”

Evidently Alberich’s words penetrated, for the Prince gaped at him in shock.

“For a horse?”

“For a Companion.” Blessed Sunlord, just how stupid was this fool? “They—are—not—horses,” he continued, emphasizing each word with a hard shake. “No matter what your eyes tell you. Your eyes lie.” He had done some reading since the Prince arrived, on Myste’s insistence, and now he was glad that he had. “Have you broken ribs? A broken pelvis? No. Because it was a Companion that kicked you—shoved you with her hooves, rather—and not a horse. Think! Had it been a horse that had done this, would you not in blood and broken bones be lying? In your own land, lives the Shin’a’in Tarma—so I know that you know of this. The Companion is like to her kyree Warrl. Be grateful she did no more than kick you for your insults.”

He saw the Prince’s eyes widen, then narrow again, at the comparison. He also heard Kantor’s snort of disgust at being compared to a kyree. But Kantor knew better than to object, since at least now the Prince had some basis for comparison that he might believe.

“So—” Karathanelan got out around clenched teeth. “How do I get one of them to let me ride it?”