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Neav did not answer the stranger's scornful comments about his single coin. He had thought it would be obvious that he had no real money. His tunic and breeches were twice-worn, cast off from grooms so much larger than he that the sleeves and legs had to be hacked shorter. And though his boots did fit, they were worn right to holes. If the stranger was real after money, he would not have chosen Neav.

And then the knife was pushed even closer though it did not deepen the cut. Even in his cold anger, Neav felt his stomach clench.
"No," he said evenly. "I am in no position at all to make demands. But you don't leave me much choice! You are not telling me what you want! So what am I supposed to do?"

"Yes .... they are quite important. How could a knight expect his horse to ride into battle and perform well if his mount had not been cared for and fed properly. So, stable-boys can be just as important to the the outcome of a battle as the knight. After all, what good is a knight without his horse, especially this one,"

Having swallowed his bread in three bites, Neav stayed pressed close to the chestnut mare, wary eyes on the lady. He saw her frown, misreading it as one of annoyance - but she did not hit him. Instead she answered the question, at first glancing around as if to check that they were alone. Neav supposed she did not want to be seen talking so someone like a stable-boy. From her clothes, she was an important kind of castle servant.

"Unicorn..." Neav softly repeated the word. It seemed familiar, though he did not remember anyone speaking of it before. He had dreamed of a creature called Unicorn... but she said that the Prince had hunted it? The nightmare vision of the arrow striking the gleaming white horse was in his eyes again. Neav's chest hurt. He shuddered. He had not known that people could dream things that were true.

But he did not understand why she said he should be careful about asking such questions. Neav supposed it was because she knew that boys should not ask questions at all. It did not occur to him that a unicorn was a magical creature and so should not be talked about. Neav only had the vaguest idea of magic - that it was evil and wicked and if you did it then you were executed. He thought a unicorn must just be another creature that people hunted, like a deer or a wolf. But it did make him sad. It had been so beautiful... how could the Prince want to kill it?
But Neav knew it was not for him to wonder how the Prince could do things. Instead he rubbed his nose, thinking.

"I'm sorry," he said, in case the lady's cautioning had also been a telling-off. "I just wondered... If it was something real or something I dreamed. I didn't know. No one told me about a unicorn before." And he gave her the tiniest of shy smiles.

Neav bit his lip, eyes wide with panic. He had not meant to lie! When he said he had nothing, of course he had meant that he had nothing worth stealing. Nothing worth killing for! Sure, he had that single coin still tight in his fist but it would buy no more than four of the cheapest carrots. It was so unfair to call him out as lying for that!

"I didn't mean - I haven't - I don't - " Neav began incoherently, ending in a sharp hiss of pain as the knife cut his skin. Tears sprang to his eyes. This was so unfair! He was going to die for nothing and who would look after his horses then? Who would calm Gillyflower's nerves, help Hemlock with her next foal?
The pain and hopelessness of it all snapped something deep inside. A wave of panic raced from him, catching every horse in Camelot. The effect was instant.
In the far away stables the grooms had the shock of their lives as every single horse screamed. Chaos grew as horses kicked at stable doors, tugged at ropes as they tried to free themselves and race to the cause of that helpless cry. In the market mules brayed. Packhorses were suddenly wild and two of them broke free. With clattering hooves and screams of both horse and people, the runaways raced for a certain small alley...

When so reliaztion hit Neav, knocking his terror off sideways. This alleyway was too narrow. The horses could not come here! Any that did would find walls pressing tight against their flanks, would hurt themselves in their panic...
With a great effort, Neav shut off his silent scream. The horses skidded to a halt, turning their heads this way and that in their confusion. Where had their direction gone? And with no direction, they allowed themselves to be caught. People everywhere grumbled as wondered what could have spooked all their horses so suddenly.

In the dark alley, Neav's eyes were suddenly like chits of ice. He felt himself in the grip of his cold, endless temper. This man, this stranger who would kill for the smallest coin, had almost caused Neav to hurt his beloved horses.
The boy's voice was frost as he pressed the coin against the man's arm.
"You are welcome to my coin," temper making his head clear enough to think. "I wish you the joy of it. Just take your knife away from my neck and I will do whatever you wish." Now he spoke as those the blood trickling slowly down his neck was someone else's, not much to do with him at all. The change from the frightened child to this cold-eyes was amazing.

Neav's eyes flew to the basket when the lady mentioned she had bread. Then at once he felt ashamed of himself. Like most boys he age he did get very hungry, but also like most boys, Neav did not consider himself a child. He bit his lip. Even if the bread was not much, it would be better than nothing... Hunger and pride fought a quick and violent battle. Then Neav silently held out a hand. Pride had lost.

"Thank you, mistress," He murmured, still trying to guess who this lady was. If she was handing out bread to castle children, then she must work somewhere in the castle... Kitchens? But she did not dress like kitchen folk. Neav chewed his lip again. If she had not known his name, he could have asked... now he was afraid it would be rude if he did.
As he was thinking this, deciding that he did not dare to ask her name and status, his mouth betrayed him by asking something completely different and far worse.
"What is a horse called when it has a long horn on his head?"

As soon as he had asked, Neav shrank back against the mare, expecting to be hit for impudence. So stupid thing to say! His nightmare must be getting to him. He never asked questions of strangers! Not when asking such a question even of one of the grooms he worked with would get him slapped.

A smile danced on Neav's lips, showing his missing tooth and making him look no more than nine years old. Prince Arthur was not angry at all! He was even pleased, he had even said thank you. Neav knew that a Prince never said thank you to a stable-boy.
It was not often that Neav could be so sure he had done the right thing. He spun and caught the mare who stood behind him, pressing his head happily to hers. Then he looked at Prince Arthur, and answered his question.
"Yes," he said, so obviously happy to have pleased someone. "I really am fine, my lord."

As he looked at the smashed stables, the thought of what might had happened did not sober Neav. He did not dwell on might-have-beens any more than a horse did. The boy was trying to calculate the mess, wondering would be best to fix first, how long it would take to get the stables working again. A few grooms had arrived while Neav and the Prince was talking and had started to pick through the mess. Neav was glad. He supposed the men would decide what ought to be done.
Really, the most practical thing would be to find halters and something to tie all the horses too. If something spooked them, Neav did not want them being skittish with so much broken mess everywhere.

Neav gave a small smile as Sir Lancelot once again broke into a flow of talk. He was beginning to get used to it now. He was almost glad for it. The long speech gave time for the embarrassment to cool from his cheeks, and he gave the slightest pressure on Gillyflower's reins. The mare knew at once what he wanted and lifted her nose from the grass. The smile stayed on his lips because Sir Lancelot had decided he would come to Camelot after all.

Though Neav was getting used to the knight's flow of speech, he was not used to all the ideas that were being put before him. He had not known that a knight's duty was to save people's lives. He had always supposed their job was to kill anyone who looked like they might hurt the King.

"I can find water for Sher-Fore at the stables," Neav said, his own way of showing his gladness that the two would be with them a little longer. "Food and rest too, if he wants it. And..." Neav continued, suddenly shy again. "Of course I will tell no one. If it is what you want." No matter what Sir Lancelot said his duty was, Neav still felt he owed him a huge debt. So he would have done far more for the knight then just not tell anyone.

Neav asked Gillyflower to move forwards, to head back to the stables. He was wondering if he dared to ask about the nature of the duty of a knight. He could not help feeling that Sir Lancelot must have got it wrong. All the knights he knew seemed far to important to bother with the life of a stable boy.
Neav glanced sideways at the Knight, and decided that he did dare.
"I... I always thought..." Neav began softly. "That a knight's job was really to protect important people. Not to bother with stable-boys...?"

So asked the question as best as Neav could manage.

Neav stood barefoot in the stables, his forehead pressed against that of one of the horses, eyes closed. He was very tired. The past couple of nights he had been having a dreadful nightmare. It was always the same, starting out as the most beautiful dream. A shining white horse, more lovely than any Neav had ever seen, stood in the forest. His eyes were so gentle, full of love. A horn rose twisting from the centre of his forehead.
But suddenly it all changed. An arrow flew from nowhere, striking hard and true and killing the creature. Neav screamed in pain and fear; it was like the arrow had pierced his own heart.
And then he woke up.

It did not help that now his stomach was tight with hunger; Neav was not exactly over-fed at the best of times, and now with this sudden food shortage... well, a little stable-boy was not the first priority.
At least the horses were not hungry. It was not the grass that had wilted in this strange drought, only the food which people ate. The hay was fine, too. Neav was glad. His own hunger he could deal with. The uncomfort of his precious friends would be torture.
At least he had not shared his dreadful dream with them.

Suddenly he heard light footsteps, a soft voice calling his name. Neav turned, the mare he stood with also turning her head. Both horse and boy gazed at the person in a way that was almost comical. Neav was combing through his mind, trying to remember this girl's name. He had a terrible memory for people. Though he did know he had seen her often... maybe she was a servant at the castle?
"Hello," he replied cautiously, wondering what she wanted. People only ever spoke to him if they wanted something. "Uhm... can I help you, mistress?"
Neav was not sure what he really ought to call her, and so 'mistress' was the safest thing. His face was ashy from hunger and lack of sleep, with dark panda-rings round his eyes.

A smile twitched the corner of Neav's mouth. He could just imagine the strange, wild Kazira throwing something at Master William. But that Kazira still thought boys should not be hit... she did not understand. Neav suddenly decided he was quite glad she had not thrown things at Master William. It would have ended very badly.
"He only shouts because he wants people to listen to him," Neav said peacefully. "I do not mind. I only mind when he shouts at the horses."

He careful removed the bit from the bridle so as to clean it better. It was never nice to have grass-stains and spit stuck in there. But when Kazira said he was no less of a person because he had no family, he actually stopped cleaning and looked at her properly. He did not believe her.
Neav stared silently a long time. She could not just tell him that. It was not true. His whole life he had known that, as a foundling, he counted for less than everyone else. Because if the head groom had not brought Neav to Camelot then he would probably be dead. He owed his life to the stable people. He had no true family to vouch for him. Most of the time, Neav did not mind because he had the horses, because he understood he was different, less of a person. How could Kazira say he deserved no less respect? She was all wrong.
At last he went back to cleaning, murmuring something that could have been agreement. Neav would not contradict her. He was not like that.

Then Kazira asked what was fun and Neav gave a real thing.
"The very, very best thing," he said as though he were sharing a secret, "is to take out the Prince's four chargers for exercise. We go out so early when there is still dew on the grass and mist in the air and we run and run so fast we are almost flying."
And his icy eyes shone as though he were remembering a wonderful dream.