Kahriah finished preparing the second dose just as the Captain arrived with the empty vials. She carefully poured them and handed the crate to Thammasorn. It was reported the sailors were doing much better after the first dose, and Kahriah concluded the second would be sufficient.

“You’re a lifesaver, Kahriah. When I retire, I want you and your family to come down to Onny, and I’ll take you on a tour of the sound. How long’s it been since you were at sea?”

“A long time.”

“Well, you might wretch a few times, but once you’re out there…. it’s magical. Really.”

“And just like that, eh? No bravado this morning, no nuances? Do I still smell of venison stew?” She laughed but awaited the answer nonetheless.

“Reliving old memories at The Long Face?” he asked.

Kahriah’s olive complexion turned a shade redder. Thammasorn returned to the topic of the sea.

“I’d like to meet that painter…I mean artist. He must be a great man.” Kahriah was caught off guard by his honesty.

“That’s very kind of you, and once the child is a bit older, we’ll certainly take you up on your offer. It sounds delightful.” She said sincerely. The Captain nodded with a warm smile and then turned and left.

Another twenty-four men and women would be on the mend before moonrise. She wasn’t one to keep track, but when it came to determining the outcome of men’s lives, she was up there with any warrior or king. Dragon’s Ass, if not treated, meant almost certain death in two weeks.

She packed up her herbs and oils, and returned to the lower lift. The one she’d rode down the day before was being repaired after a line broke. The lower lift platform had a pile of cracked wood and twisted iron beside it. There were dozens of lifts dangling from Onny’s cliff top, so she made her way a hundred feet further down the beach to another and rode to the top. Moving at an excited clip, she made her way from the cliffs to the mountyards. It was time to buy Lohmen a firstday gift in horse form.

When she turned the corner, she saw Grelda waiting and looking around. Kahriah watched and enjoyed her first time spying on her nosy neighbour. The moment was short-lived.

“Kahriah! Over here!” Grelda called from the other side of the men and women leading mounts into the stables. A large warhorse passed before Kahriah darted through the equine traffic to meet Grelda.

“Let’s go buy a horse!” Kahriah said, her energy returned after a good night’s sleep. The pair walked back down the pathway taking in any number of more impressive steeds than the one they were about to purchase. At the end, they walked into the horseman pavilion and saw Mr. seventy-forty-two sitting alone at an unmarked table. After meeting their eyes, he stood up and started towards the side exit.

“Follow me,” he said gruffly, not looking back to see if they had. The horseman led the women to a small, brick building outside of the pavilion. The sign above the door featured a horse flanked by a sheet of parchment on either side. He opened the door and walked inside, with Grelda and Kahriah in tow. The room was empty except for an older man seated behind a large, wooden desk. The wall behind him was entirely shelves, each filled with books of the same size, thickness, and design.

“Seven, nought, four, two,” the horseman barked at the older man. He clutched the desk’s wood railing so hard it might splinter in his grasp. The older man only raised his eyes and started flipping through a stack of loose sheets on his desk while the horseman impatiently tapped his fingers.

“A few niceties might be appreciated,” the man at the desk muttered condescendingly before speaking more robustly.

“Seller?” the man asked, holding his quill for the response.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“0113D7”

“Mount number?”

“Seven, nought, four, two”.”

“Purchase price?”

“Five twenty-five.”

“Inclusions?”

“Saddle, saddlebags, bridle, reins. Leather travel bag.” The horseman turned to Kahriah. “I threw in a few extra bags for you. I’ve no use for them now.” He turned back to the registrar. “Keep going.”

“Terms?”

“Payment in full.”

“Buyer?”

The horseman looked to Kahriah with expectation.

“Buyer?” The old man asked, looking up from his paper at Kahriah. “Who is buying this horse?”

“Uh, me…but, sorry. What is this?” She asked, puzzled.

“First-timers…” the registrar said under his breath. “This is the Umlom Mount Registry Office, Onlomum branch. All mount sales are to be registered here.” Kahriah looked at the horseman with a raised eyebrow.

“Is this necessary? I mean…” she started but was cut off.

“Yes.” The horseman said sternly. She turned back to the old registry man.

“People buy and sell horses all over the realm. You’re to tell me they all registered them here?” Kahriah asked, half rhetorically.

“No, there are branches in Tunum and Munpun as well. But yes, there are illegal horse deals and those who perpetrate them are outlaws.” Kahriah laughed at the idea of two farmers exchanging a horse in Kinon being outlaws.

“Well, the horse isn’t for me. It’s for my husband. So record Lohmen Dreisler as the owner, please.”

“Very well.” Said the old man while he wrote. “Each of you signs indicating a properly executed deal.” He put the document on the desk in front of them. “Lady, I’ll take payment here.”

She handed him a purse with five hundred and twenty-five lords, having counted them the night before. The old man counted fifty and raked them off his desk into a drawer. Kahriah heard them clank into the drawer, under the desk, and then under her feet before the sound trailed off. The official handed the balance to the horseman, who grumbled as he finished signing his name. He gave the quill to Kahriah, who signed her name below Lohmen’s and beside the horseman’s inelegant, illegible scribble.

“Just a moment, please,” the old man said as he grabbed two other sheets of paper and replicated the original twice in lightning fashion. He drabbed a thin layer of hot wax onto each of the duplicates and smashed a seal, a stylised ‘M’, into each bill of sale. He handed one to the horseman and one to Kahriah. The original, he filed into a book that looked the same as the hundred others on the wall.

Kahriah again interrupted his procedure. “Is this my replica then?” she asked.

“Yessss,” the old man said, making no effort to hide his annoyance.

“Great.” She flipped the page over, grabbed the quill from the inkwell on the old man’s desk, and jotted a short note on the back.

“Finished?” he asked with raised eyebrows. Kahriah nodded excitedly.

“Kahriah, on behalf of Lohmen Dreisler and Seller 0113D7, registered with the Umlom Mount Registry Office, you have successfully purchased a mount. The horse, all inclusions and naming rights pass entirely to Lohmen Dreisler. Five hundred and twenty-five lords, less a fifty lords administration fee, go to the seller. Your business is complete. Good day.” He returned his eyes to his papers, ignoring the horseman, Kahriah, and Grelda.

The horseman grinned as he left the building and motioned for the women to follow with much more patience and good nature than he had shown before. He led them away from the registry building and horseman pavilion towards another set of stalls where Kahriah saw the horse she had just bought. Lohmen’s firstday gift had been fitted with a saddle, full tack, two saddlebags, and a soft leather bag, rolled and tucked under the cantle.

“Here you are, ma’am. Good Day.” He nodded at Kahriah and Grelda. With a relieved look, he turned and left the women with their horse.

Kahriah and Grelda stood there with their newly purchased mount. Kahriah was the first to speak.

“I don’t know how to ride a horse.” She confessed, and both women laughed.

“I’m sure Bernock can show you the ropes, and I know a few things.”

They walked back towards the gates of Onny, where they were to meet their coachman. Marell was surprisingly punctual and giddy from her two days in Onny. Kahriah had been petting the horse and was quite proud of her acquisition.

“You’re part of our family now, horse.”