The Willful Princess and the Piebald Prince Read Online Free

horse—not dappled nor speckled, mind you, but blotted in great ugly spots, like a fruit that has taken blight, or a poorly-dyed blanket, or a milk cow. Black-and-white he was, with a rolling blue eye on one side of his head and a dark staring one on the other. Big was this beast, and a stud, unruly of temper, screaming out his challenges to any stallion that came near and snuffing and stamping after every passing mare. He was a nuisance and a danger, and twice the guards had to be called to quell the beast. They warned the Chalcedean that he had best keep his horse to rights, or he would be thrown out of the fair. But each time, when the guards arrived, they found the Spotted Stud standing docile as a lamb, and at his head, holding his halter, a youth of strange mien.
    He was not garbed well, but rather as a servant and a ragged one at that. He was silent in his ways, his eyes always cast down, and he spoke few words, fair or ill to the guards for when he did speak he stuttered so that it took him three times as long to say whatever he had in his mind as it should have. Only to the horse he spoke frequently, in a breath so soft none could make out the words, but always the rambunctious horse turned docile as an old mare at his utterances. Things are said of him now that none know if they are true or not: that he never in his days ate meat, but oft was seen standing beside his horse, chewing a stem of grass. Some say the nails of his hands were as thick and yellow as a horse’s hooves. Others that his laugh was a whinny and that when he was angered he pawed at the earth and stamped. I can say with absolute certainty that many of the things now said of him are rankest nonsense, and only spoken aloud to justify all that came afterward.
    So when I went back to my mistress, I admit I spoke of the Chalcedean trader, and of the spotted horse and the man who tended it. But not, I swear, in a way to turn her head with thoughts of either one.
    On the third day of the trading fair, Queen-in-Waiting Caution announced that she wanted to stroll the picket lines and see what the traders had to offer. Often, I fear, did Queen-in-Waiting Caution indulge herself in such strolls around the market on a trade day, when some folk felt it would have been more fitting to her rank to have sat in her chair by her father’s judgment throne, learning how to serve justice to her people. Such duties never amused Queen-in-Waiting Caution: she was often heard to say that when she had to ride a throne all day would be soon enough to take up that duty.
    And so she and a circle of her more adventurous ladies had gone down to the stock markets. I was there, trailing after them, ready to carry any parcel or dash off to fetch a cool drink for her. I did not much enjoy the Cattle and Horse Fair. It was a hot day and dusty, and often folk passed us leading oxen or horses. I found it alarming when such large beasts passed directly behind or in front of me, yet the Queen-in-Waiting made nothing of that, but looked about with eager eyes, as did her ladies.
    Yet it did not seem they were in a mood to buy, for with tart tongues and mouths full of laughter they made mock of first one trader and his wares and then another. This one looked as like to his horse as to his mother. That one’s stud was more round-bellied than the pregnant mare he showed. This horse had a coat so rough it would sand a man’s buttocks to his bones, and that one had a head more like cow. Such were the jests her ladies threw, and the Queen-in-Waiting did not rebuke their unseemly behavior, but laughed loudly in a way that only encouraged them to speak even more coarsely.
    At last they came to the Chalcedean trader and his blotchy horse. The beast was peaceful that day, for the tight-lipped man who tended it stood at its head. When Caution and her ladies drew near, he looked up at her and his eyes were as full of wonder as if he had never seen a woman before. Despite his poor clothes, he was a