Kieri had to admit he had not seen such a collection of near-perfect horseflesh anywhere, not even in the royal stables in Vérella. Under the covered arcade, a row of bay and chestnut heads looked out over stall doors. Two, three, five … ten? He stopped counting. Who needed so many horses? Kieri walked along slowly, letting each sniff his hand, and casting a practiced eye over their conformation.

“You’ll want to see them in action,” Ganeth said.

“Indeed yes. And then try them out.”

Ganeth smiled widely for the first time.

“But where are the grays?”

The smile disappeared. “They’re in this row … through here …”

Backing on the first, this row of stalls held grays and two blue roans, all looking out of their stalls like the bays and chestnuts … but these wore headstalls and were all tied to a ring just outside the stalls. “Why?” Kieri asked.

“The grooms feel safer,” Ganeth said.

“The horses don’t,” Kieri said, looking at the row of fretful heads tossing this way and that, jerking the halter ropes. “Easy,” he said, approaching the first. The horse pinned its ears.

“He nips,” Ganeth murmured.

“He won’t nip Kieri,” Estil said.

Kieri appreciated the sentiment, but he wasn’t sure. “Easy,” he said again, with the same tone he’d used on horses and injured soldiers for years. He reached for the tie; the horse reached for his arm. Kieri bared his teeth and grunted; the horse in the stall wrinkled its nostrils tightly and pointed its muzzle away from him while he untied the line from the ring, and reached up to unfasten the halter. The instant it felt the halter loosen, the horse whipped around and kicked the stall door. The other grays jerked at their ties.

“You see how it is, sire,” Ganeth said. “They must be tied, for the grooms’ safety.”

“How long have they stood tied like this?” Kieri asked. “Today, I mean?” He did his best to keep his voice level. The horse in the stall had its nose in a water bucket, the swallows running up the underside of its gullet visibly.

“Since the stalls were mucked—they were all taken to water at dawn bell, and walked in the row while their stalls were cleaned and relaid.”

Kieri glanced in. The gray pinned one ear and lifted a hind hoof. “Oh, settle down,” Kieri said; the ear swung forward and the gray went on drinking. The stall was bedded just like the others; the horse bore no lumps or marks of misuse, other than being tied for hours in one position. To the others he said, “I’m going to untie them; their movement won’t be true in the school if they’ve been standing tied that long.”

Ganeth bowed, and excused himself to have the horses saddled for presentation in the school. Soon the sixteen bays and chestnuts, plus Banner, lined up in the school for Kieri’s inspection. Every one showed the sound, useful conformation needed for a travel mount; all were up to his weight. They had a different look than the Marrakai-bred horses he’d ridden most, the head a little longer. He remembered that from his time at Falk’s Hall. “These are all excellent,” he said to the horsemaster. “Where did you find them?”