The small-man looked surprised for a moment and then straightened proudly as he said, “Ah, sorry, sir. I didn’t mean offense. There’s an open stall here. You can lock your tack over there in the cupboard. The key’s in the lock. Please, don’t lose it. It’s a hassle to find a lockmaster to get into it and make a new one. There’s only one in the city, you know … the lockmaster, I mean. Everyone wants him to take a few apprentices, but he refuses. He doesn’t want anyone stealing his business, you see?”

As the small-man rattled on about various happenings, Rezkin unloaded his belongings and brushed down the horse.

“What’s his name?” the small-man finally asked.

“What is whose name?” asked Rezkin.

The small-man pointed at the battle charger, “Your horse. What’s his name?”

Rezkin looked back at the horse in surprise. He had never considered naming a horse. He was not sure why a horse needed a name, but the boy seemed to think it was the normal thing to do. He thought quickly. Just as he was about to speak, the horse lifted his head high and rolled his eyes around to look at Rezkin as if daring him to come up with something strong and proud.

“Pride,” Rezkin said. The horse snorted and went back to chomping on the oats and alfalfa the small-man had poured into the feed bucket. The young warrior felt a slight tug at the corners of his lips as if his mouth was about to quirk into a smile all on its own. That was odd.

“That’s a good name,” said the small-man. “He does seem really proud.”

Rezkin gathered his things together and motioned toward the inn. “We can go in, now. You had best stay away from him. He could injure you. I would suggest keeping other horses away from his stall, as well, if possible.” Rezkin then remembered he was supposed to give the small-man a gratuity for his assistance. He pulled a silver from his purse and handed it to the small-man. Pot’s eyes lit up, and he smiled grandly.

“Thank you, sir! I’ll keep a good eye on him, but I won’t bother him at all,” Pot said. “I should help you with your things.

“I would prefer to carry them myself,” Rezkin replied.

Pot’s face fell once again, and he looked put out. Rezkin wondered what he had done to upset the small-man this time. Not knowing what else to do, he decided to give the small-man additional information in case he was confused.

“Some of my things are not safe for a small-man to handle if he has not yet learned the Skills,” Rezkin stated.