“Your Majesty, I can send—”
“Personally,” she repeated.
“Pip does not have a horse.”
“Well then. Choose him a horse. You are the captain of the Grey Guard. You can get a boy a horse.”
“He does not know how to ride a horse,” I said.
“Impossible! Everyone in Qoksmere can ride a horse. Don’t let that boy fool you into believing he needs to be coddled. He is stronger than he looks,” the Queen said. “Go select a horse for him from my stables. You must depart within the hour.”
“But, Your Majesty—”
“Within the hour, Commander. This is a matter of utmost importance to the crown.”
I bowed and departed for the stables. A horse for Pip.
I sent runners: one to the fabric workshop with Pip’s packing orders, another to gather the Guard. Then I found Thom in the stables and told him the news.
“What do you think Pip would prefer in a mount?” Thom asked as he led me down an aisle that contained all of the Queen’s favorite horses.
“I don’t know, something pretty?” I could picture Pip braiding his horse’s hair.
“Hmm.” Thom led me down the aisle, pointing out horses that were not in use by the Queen’s entourage. “This one?” He indicated a massive bay stallion.
“No. Something gentle.”
“How about old Sam, here.” He stopped at the next stall, where a muscled warhorse eyed us. “Now that he’s over three hundred, he’s gotten quite gentle.”
“Um.” I peered up and down the stalls. “No, not quite right.”
I took a few more steps down the aisle when a horse’s head appeared above a stall door. He was beautiful, with a silver mane and gentle eyes. He nickered and nuzzled my hand when I scratched his ears.
“What’s his story? I did not know the Queen allowed faeflight in her stables.”
“He’s a gelding, only three years old. He was gifted to the Queen for one of her ladies in waiting, but the Queen insisted that none of her entourage be on a horse so silly.”
“I do not find him silly,” I said.
“Of course you wouldn’t. He’s not silly at all,” Thom said. “He’s brave, and intelligent, and I’d be happy to pass him along to someone who might enjoy him. The Queen keeps saying he’s useless, but I’m quite fond of him.”
“Not the Queen’s style,” I murmured, running a hand down the gelding’s neck. “But perfect for Pippin.”
“Shall I saddle him?”
“Yes, prepare him, I’ll go get Bram. Hopefully he won’t be too embarrassed to be seen with such a pretty horse.”
Thom was laughing as I walked away, slipping Bram a sugar cube to ensure his good mood when he met the faeflight. As I was finishing with his saddle, Pip arrived. For once, he’d listened and worn full-length trousers that were brown, a little too long, and so un-Pip that I almost felt sorry for him. He was carrying a satchel big enough to hold everything he owned, and had one of his crochet hooks behind his left ear, and on his feet, were the strange, brightly-colored shoes he’d arrived in.
I should have specified boots.
“My legs cannot breathe.”
“Your legs do not have lungs.”
“Where are we going? I packed shorts, skirts, an outfit for you, and I brought yarn because—”
An outfit for me? I pictured myself in sparkly pink shorts and decided not to ask. He stopped talking, his attention caught. Thom was walking in, leading the faeflight gelding.
