his velvet, and he fussed until the last damp stems had whirled away on the wind. Eyes narrowed against lowering sunlight, he watched the stallion reach the corner and whirl. 'A good thing, too. Silverdown's treasury is empty.'

    Surrounded by a wealth of bearing fields, the bald man raised eyebrows in disbelief.

    'Oh, yes,' the Lord affirmed with a bitten-off snap of contempt. 'Spent out to pay the King's levies, until war took the old man's life. The cripple who survived him had too soft a heart. Left the tenants their harvests, and ran the household on profits from the orchards. Apples and pears!' The Lord gave a laugh not meant to be pleasant. 'What a fool's game! The manor house might not leak, through a miracle, but the tenants are sullen and spoiled. They'll have to be taught better manners, if I'm to win Tanemar's daughter. This stallion is all of Silverdown's gold, can we break him. If his bloodline is any judge, his get should look as fine. As a gift he will be unmatched. Duke Tanemar will take notice of my suit, and the hand of his daughter will be mine.'

    The bald man stroked his chin, while Trionn cowered. 'Large plans,' he mused, the direction of his gaze never shifting. In the pasture, unaware his wildness was at risk, or that he was being discussed as an item for barter, the stallion kicked up his heels. Hooves sliced across wind with a force that whistled the air. 'He's fast enough for a fact, and made well as any man must envy. I'll start on his breaking tomorrow, right enough, but tonight, we'll settle on a fee.'

    The Lord banged the fence with such force that the planking rebounded with a rattle. The stallion flung up in a rear at the noise, his shadow scything across his admirers. Hooves struck out in a dancer's grace that masked blows as murderous as assassin's cudgels. 'No fee,' came back the clipped answer. 'As I told you, the treasury's empty. Break the great brute so he can be caught and stabled. Then send in three of your broodmares. There's fee enough. While my war captain rides the beast fit so he can be shown off under saddle, the foals will be yours to increase the dun's reputation.'

    The horsebreaker slapped thighs clad in worn and dusty leather. 'I break other people's stock,' he declaimed. 'I don't keep any for myself.' As the Lord beside him left the fence, the horsebreaker remained riveted by the stud, who pranced and stamped in tight

III