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Neav was too upset to notice the significance of the Prince's apology. No matter that royalty did not say sorry to servants. No matter that the Prince had risked his own life and had saved the rest of the city from the dragon. No matter that he had lost as many friends himself. Neav did not want him to say he was sorry! For once in his life, the gentle stable-boy wanted to fight. He wanted the Prince to be angry so that he could be angry right back!

"Sorry? So what?" he demanded, stamping his foot. His soft boots made no sound on the straw-covered floor. "So what? Sorry is not going to bring them back. Why ride horses to your stupid fights? Why? If everyone just left us alone we would not come close to spit at a stupid dragon! Do you know how scared Rising Sun was? Do you? I told him to trust you and you would bring him home safe. That is what I said! You made my words a lie and I hate you!"
Neav was shouting now. This pale, skinny boy was shouting through his tears at the Prince he worked for. The Prince who so often scared him, but who he had come to trust. The Prince who could kill him with a single blow, or arrest him at a single word. But Neav no longer cared. So many of his friends were dead. He felt he did not care if he died himself.

Neav stood trembling, his arms around the mare's neck and his face pressed close to her. Her chestnut coat was dark with his tears. Neav breathed her musty smell, tried to comfort himself with her closeness... But it could not light the darkness in his heart.
When he had prepared the horses for that fight with the dragon, of course he had known that they might not come back. Everyone had know it. It was a fruitless idea, an attack of desperation. But nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it.
And of course Neav had lived with the death of a horse-friend before. But never so many all at once! It had been so terrible. From the death of the first horse to the last, Neav had felt echoes of their pain. When nine of them had burned in the dragon's fire, Neav had screamed as though he burned with them.
"Fair Chance, Fair Chance..." he whispered the chestnut's name. "Oh Chance, so many brothers and sisters are gone..."

Suddenly someone came up behind him, spoke his name. Neav turned. His cheeks were wet and his eyes red from crying but he did not care. Neav found himself staring up into the saddened face of Prince Arthur.
Neav made a curious noise somewhere between a laugh and a hiccup. He could not deal with a Prince now! He could not be all politeness and all helpfulness, not today! Besides, it was that Prince's royal fault that all Neav's friends were dead. Suddenly he was very angry.

"Willow," Neav hissed the name of first horse who had died. "Cut down by dragon claws." His eyes glared accusingly through tears. "Azrael - the same. Comet and Rising Sun -" (two of the Prince's own horses, ridden by he and Merlin) "Paprika, Rillian, Embers, Falcon, Hero, Castor and Shadow. All burned to ashes." On the last word his voice cracked and Fair Chance nuzzled his arm. Her nose was soft as fresh raspberries but Neav ignored the comfort. He could not take comfort now.

Aaron Williams refrained from rolling his eyes. In his opinion, some of these knights took the whole justice-for-everyone thing a bit too far. They believed that people should be upright and honourable and did not seemed to realise that the world was just not like that.
However, a knight was a knight and a noble also, and so had to be obeyed.
"Apologies, Neav," Aaron Williams hurled the words over his shoulder.

Neav looked up, startled. Then he grinned. Of course. Sir Lancelot was using his funny thoughts on Master Williams too.
Neav flipped the saddle-blankets over the rails, inside-out to air. Sher-Fore had his nose in the water trough and Neav eyed him critically. How long?
"An hour?" he asked, hopefully. Of course he could get Sher-Fore ready in much less time than that, but an hour would give him a rest.

Aaron Williams raised his eyebrows but replied politely enough.
"Of course. Neav will bring the horse to you." And then, once the knight had gone. "Well. You have a powerful friend now, boy. Strange."
Neav did not reply and the head groom went back to his own work.

*

An hour later, Neav rode the stallion toward the market place. Sher-Fore was fresh now, picking up his feet in a way that made Neav smile. His coat shone with good grooming. In the short hour that Neav had worked on him, the boy had grown to love Sher-Fore and his calm, noble bravery. The perfect horse for a knight like Sir Lancelot.
Now Neav scanned the crowd, looking for the knight. The place was so busy at this time of day.

Neav ran expert fingers down Rising Sun's legs. If he was going to use this stallion for his plan, he needed to be sure the creature was sound. If there was even the smallest hint of soreness or a heated tendon, he would take Tempest instead.

Suddenly the man spoke behind him and Neav jumped violently, spinning to face him. Catching his fear, the four stallions snorted and pranced. Neav took a breath to calm himself. Of course he was still twitchy but that did not give the horses any good.
None of them are going to die.
He stared at the man, leaning against the wall so calm and scornful, and then turned back to Rising Sun. He was sound. Neav would take him.
"Yes. This is Rising Sun," he said and the unhappiness was obvious in his voice. "He is half Arabian and half Barb. He had new shoes a week ago..." Neav trailed off, adding in a whisper. "You got to look after him proper." Somehow it was easy to play that he was going to let Rising Sun go. After all, he was so afraid that it would happen it was not even a lie!

The next question bought the colour rushing to his face. What would he say? Oh, just imagine it! The Prince had placed his whole trust in Neav. Imagine if he did loose Rising Sun. It would be so dreadful...
"I - I don't know," Neav admitted. And then, slowly thinking it out. "I think... I would say... I was exercising him. I got to do that anyway, always running him outside the city walls. And that he... threw me. Bolted and ran."

Aaron Williams glanced at the tall stranger who had appeared with his stable-boy. He took a breath, controlled his anger and listened while the man seemed to take the blame.
"Well." Aaron Williams was a busy person. He did not have time to be talking with a stranger, though he was glad that Neav had not suddenly turned disobedient. It was the first time he had ever been late to the stables and Aaron did not want him making a habit of it. "I trust he has helped you and you now know your way." And with those words the man strode off to see to some horses under his own charge.

Inside the stable, Neav was with Prince Arthur's four stallions. He got them fresh water and hey, and began grooming vigorously. They nibbled his hair, grooming him back and gradually Neav began to calm. He trusted his horses completely. He pressed his forehead to Rising Sun's shoulder.
"Oh you..." he whispered. "You're going to start a new life, Rising Sun. No more Prince's for you! Just a wicked, evil man who has a knife..." And he gave a small, secret smile. He knew now what he would do. Left alone, his idea had grown into a full plan. Of course there was a little risk, but none of his sweet horses would end up dead. So he was sure.

Neav stared at her in alarm. Magic? A unicorn was a magical creature? No. Surely she must have got that wrong. It could not be true...
Neav knew the King's views on magic. He knew that all magic was evil, practised by witches and wicked sorcerers and that magical creatures were just as evil.
That was all he knew on the subject of magic. So how could something so beautiful as a unicorn be magical? Neav knew the creature in his dream had not been evil. That unicorns were the most precious things in the entire world. He did not know how he knew; he just did.

Slowly he shook his head.
"No..." he whispered, and then remembered that he was contradicting someone much more important than him. "I mean, I'm sorry. I wont ask the questions to anyone else..." He trailed off. He had hoped to one day see a unicorn himself... he had wanted to go into the forest and call out for one, make friends like he did with horses. Now he never could because a unicorn was illegal and hated by the King...

He turned his head to hide his eyes. Neav found that he suddenly felt like crying, and that was disgraceful. Boys did not cry!

Neav gave a sigh of relief when the Prince simply agreed and took some of the halters from him. He was glad that he had not made him upset with the suggestion. It was always so hard to know the right and wrong things to say, espically to someone as important as a prince.

Neav watched a moment as Prince Arthur approached a small cluster of mares. They eyed him warily but they did not run. Though the Prince still moved like a hunter - Neav did not think there was any way that the man could not - but four tired mares we not nearly as high-strung as the stallions yesterday. They would let him catch and halter them, Neav thought.
He called Kingfisher to him, knowing that if he caught the leading stallion then the herd would be even calmer. The big black horse lowered his head so that Neav could reach it, and then waited patiently while the boy collected a few more. As he worked, Neav considered the question. His hands and mind full of his creature-friends, he did not find it so difficult to answer.

"Horses need a leader," he explained. "When there is trouble they look to their leader. This herd has Kingfisher. So I let them all out, I ride Kingfisher and tell him where to go and they all follow us even though they are so afraid. They know we will lead them to safety."
It was simple, really. Much easier than understanding the complicated ways of people.

Two questions before they went? Neav bit back a sigh. He wanted to go now, before the man changed his mind and knifed him. Before he was so late that he would get a worse punishment than a simple beating.
"Neav," said Neav, obediently giving his name. And then, before the man could ask, "I have not got a last name."
He really did not want to have to say way. Explain that he was a foundling child, that no one even knew where he came from... Not that Neav really cared about his uncertain past. But he did not want just anybody knowing it.

The next question, however, took him by surprise. Did he like horses? Why would he want to know that? Perhaps he was wise to people who liked horses. Perhaps he knew that some people would rather die than give up a horse to a horrid stranger. But Neav could not lie about his passion. The boy never lied... and he knew if he tried he would never be believed. So instead he said,
"I have to like them. I work with them every single day."
Which was quite true without, Neav hoped, betraying his heart-felt passion. The boy tried to move away again. "Please..." he said. "Can I please go now? I am so late... I will be in so much trouble..."
He chewed his lip, truly anxious. Being hit was never fun.

Oh. Oh no. He wanted a horse? One of Prince Arthur's, or the King's horses...
A list of their names flooded his mind. Comet, Tempest, Noble, Rising Sun, Kingfisher, Flyaway, Chanter...
This was very bad.
There was no doubt that Neav could get him one. No one would question him if he took one of the horses from their stalls; he was always doing it. But Neav would not give a single one of his precious friends over to this man! This man who pressed a knife to his throat, who threatened wicked things... No. It was unthinkable.

But here was he, with a knife against him (though no longer cutting him was still threateningly close) and no way of protecting himself. o Neav swallowed again. He had to agree. He had no intention of giving up one of his friends, but to save his life now he had to agree.

"Yes..." he said, his expression so pained. Even to pretend he was giving up one of his horses was terrible. "I could get you a horse but... the Prince... the King... they would kill me...." He faded to a whisper, mind and heart racing. It was true. They would, if Neav actually did such a dreadful thing.
But he would not. If only he could get away from the man's knife, he would find some way of stopping this... He had to.