It is shocking how quickly one can get used to the smell of manure. Emmet remembered years ago, having to wait outside of the stables for several minutes before he could even begin working. Nowadays, he is awake before the sun is up to help the steeds, and the odor doesn’t bother him; a feat that impressed even his father. Of course, there were other things that would grow to bother him. Primarily, that his work required him to be up well before the sun rose, leaving long and restful nights a rare treat. That, and that he would constantly forget that not everyone was as used to the odor as he was. This made it rather embarrassing if he forgot to wash himself and change clothes before socializing.

This was precisely what was on young Emmet’s mind today, as he shoveled another heap of horse dung into the wooden cart. That after he finished here, and he had seen to all the horses, that he would need to give himself a good scrubbing before going out for a drink.

“You gonna be much longer?”

Emmet looked up at the man leaning against the wall of the stable, shoving a hunk of bread into his mouth as he watched the stable hand work. A field worker, sent up by his employer to gather the manure that would fertilize the growing crops. Of course, he had arrived over an hour ago and had done nothing to help with the task.

“Would go a lot faster if you helped…” Emmet replied as he heaped another shovelful into the cart.

“Don’t see another shovel around here.” The field hand retorted, shrugging his shoulders as he finished the last hunk of bread. “Besides, I’m gonna do the hard work and lug that shit for a good mile down the road.”

Emmet couldn’t find much room to complain when he put it like that.

Several minutes of work later, and Emmet had scraped the last of the waste off the stable floor, and the field had left him a sack of coins for the product. Every few days, he would pocket a handful of coppers for getting rid of the manure this way. Just a little pocket money on top of the pay he already made.

After Emmet had seen the worker off, he returned to the work he had cherished for the past ten years: caring for Aaron Forcetti’s horses.

Emmett took a moment to appreciate the view ahead of him as he leaned against his upright shovel. The sky was a vibrant mix of orange and pink as the day was coming to a close. The three horses grazed in the large fenced field, and one was already cantering towards the stables for supper.

Emmet had already scrubbed the troughs clean from earlier that day, filling one with a mix of hay and grains, and the other with fresh water from the nearby stream. The three steeds greedily ate from the trough as a group, as they had for their entire lives. Though they came from different lineages, they all grew up together once they were old enough to be separated from their mothers. And Emmet grew alongside them, having cared for these creatures for the past nine years.

“Lazing around again?” A familiar voice proclaimed from behind Emmet. He whipped around, seeing Aaron Forcetti scowling down at him, arms crossed. Though he couldn’t have been more than a year older, he looked down on Emmet with the seniority someone of his stature held.

“Sir, I was just –”

“You were just what?” Aaron interrupted. “Probably thinking of running off with Frost? I see the way you eye him! I told father you were no better than a gutter rat!”

Emmet looked back at Frost, the pure white stallion that was drinking deeply from his trough. The fastest creature the young man had ever encountered.

“No! Sir! I would never!” Emmet said, stammering as Aaron stepped closer.

“I knew you were a horse thief the moment father hired you! It’s been a long time, filth, but I’ve been waiting for the day to brand you a horse thief and see you rot in the dungeons!”

There was a long silence in the stables. Emmet looked towards Aaron until the firm glare of anger cracked, and he could no longer hold up the charade. Aaron and Emmet both burst into laughter, the two quickly recovering to shake hands. The young men were born only days apart, yet looked like the antithesis of one another. Emmet a good few inches shorter, and hair much darker than his friend. Where he wore a fine set of clothes that bore the diving eagle, the crest of the Forcetti family, Emmet wore a simple set of earth-colored field garments, made for hard work.

Aaron approached his horses, smiling as he reached out to pet the mane of Stone, the grey stallion that stood well over both the young men.

“Happy and healthy as ever.” He said. “And if things go well next week, I’ll have to have father give you a raise.”

Emmet rolled his eyes. He made more money than most men his age, and caring for horses was something he would do for less if it was necessary.

“How about my own land? Some seed money? Then your family would have the best beasts around for decades.” Emmet promised.

“Well, if Lucile Bennet likes my jousting well enough, I could find myself in quite the advantageous position, and I can give you an entire valley to breed horses.” Aaron said, giving his friend a wink.

“Lucile Bennet?” Emmet asked, scoffing at the very mention of her name. “Duke Bennet’s daughter? Isn’t she the ugly one?”

“No.” Aaron replied. “Lucile has hair like ravens down and a face sculpted by the gods themselves. Now, her sister…” Aaron took a sharp breath as he nodded in agreement. “Her sister is the ugly one. But hey, I can see if she’s single?”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Oh, piss off.”

----------------------------------------

The Pullen family may have been of common blood, but they could afford a more comfortable life than most. After stopping by a nearby creek to bathe himself, Emmet walked through the streets of Elksbrooke as the town settled down for the evening. Market stalls and shops were closing with the setting sun, and lanterns alongside candlelit windows bathed the cobblestone streets in a soft light. Emmet approached his home near the center of the town, where the other artisans and successful merchants built their homes. The Pullen home may not have been as grandiose or costly in its construction, but it kept the cold out well and housed his entire family.

Emmet entered the two-story house without knocking. The familiar and welcoming scent of cooked meat and vegetables filled his nostrils, and he smiled. Beef stew, his mother’s.

In the next room, his family sat down to eat their evening meal. His mother, an older woman with the same dark hair as Emmet and a stocky build, along with his two younger siblings. Carol and Percy.

“Someone’s home late.” His mother said, looking up from her bowl of stew with a stern glare. Emmet shrugged, moving with intent towards the nearby pot of food that hung over a patch of embers.

“Long day today. Had to trim Frost’s hooves and go through Grace’s scat for worms.” He replied as he helped himself to a hefty bowl of beef stew, accented with potatoes, carrots, and onions.

“Ew!” His younger sister proclaimed, looking at her brother with disgust. “Not at the table!”

“What? You don’t like talking about horse dung at the table?” Percy, the middle child, replied. Having smelled blood in the water. “What about piss? Or sweat? Or—”

“Oh, knock it off, you two!” Mrs. Pullen replied, giving the teenage boy a gentle smack across the back of his head.

Emmet sat down with his dinner and quickly devoured the meal in front of him. He had grown up with this meal for the past 19 years. Although the Pullens had since grown past the financial state where they cooked this meal out of necessity rather than desire, it was still a popular dish with the family. In fact, Emmet had been enjoying his meal so much that he had not even noticed the empty seat across from him.

“Where’s dad?” He asked.

His mother looked down at her stew, continuing to eat between bites.

“Oh, yes, he said he needed to meet with Lord Forcetti today. He should be home soon.”

Emmet felt a pang of worry in his chest. His father would never stop to speak with Lord Forcetti personally unless it was important. At first he feared for his father’s employment, but then he wondered if something might have been wrong with the horses. It was obvious which option he preferred, but the thought of wishing harm to another creature didn’t sit well with the young man.

Thankfully, Emmet would not need to wait for much longer to have his answers. He looked up as he heard the front door open and shut, to see his father step in not a moment later. Emmet was the spitting image of his father, Gerald, who wore his dark hair shorter, and kept a short beard on his chin. He stood at the end of the table. He did not sit, nor did he help himself to the food.

“Emmet.” He said, gesturing for the boy to follow him.

“Is something the matter?” He asked, standing up.

“Just come with me.”

Emmet obeyed. Leaving his half-eaten bowl and following his father out of the kitchen and outside the front door of their home. The evening air was starting to chill as the two men stood on the front porch.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, heart beating.

“Everything’s just fine, boy. I just wanted a moment to talk to you.” His father replied. Emmet let out a sigh of relief, his heart finally calming down as he let out a nervous chuckle.

“You had me worried… you know how I get.” Emmet said. His father just chuckled, giving Emmet a playful nudge on the shoulder.

“Wouldn’t be fun if I didn’t leave you hanging on, eh?” His father teased before his expression turned from playful to serious. “Now, listen. We’ve got a special guest coming to the tourney next week.” He said, looking into his son's eyes.

“Duke Bennet. I already know.” Emmet replied.

Gerald seemed surprised, taking a moment to collect himself before speaking again.

“And just how do you know that?” He asked, both impressed and surprised that his son already knew about the Duke coming to visit their small town.

“Aaron told me.” Emmet replied. “Says he’s going to try to win over his daughter in the tourney, along with every other competitor in the valley.”

Emmet’s father let out another chuckle.

“Well, he’s gonna need all the luck he can get. Be sure to root for your friend, eh?” He said. “But that brings me to the other matter. I was meeting with Lord Forcetti to discuss plans for next week. The Duke and most of the other lords and ladies of the valley will come to Elksbrooke, and they are going to need a place to keep their horses. The castle stables won't have enough room, so I spoke to Lord Forcetti about arrangements.”

Emmet could tell where this was going, and his stomach ached as he waited before speaking.

“Since Aaron’s stable is closer to the tourney grounds, I suggested that the Duke and his family keep their horses there. Under your care.”

Emmet couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His mouth hung open as he struggled to find his words.

“D–Duke Bennet is going to put me in charge of his family's horses?” He asked, dumbstruck. He ran a hand through his loose hair, a grin creeping along his face.

“That he is, boy.” His father said, beaming with pride. “And if things go well, he might have a position open in his stables. Oh, don’t tell anyone I said that.” He said, bringing a finger to his lips to make a shushing gesture.

Emmet’s thoughts raced through his mind as he leaned against the wall of his home.

“Gods, I don’t know. I don’t know his steeds that well. I’ve only known the three of Aarons well enough to care for them. What if they don’t get along?”

“Emmet…”

“What if something goes wrong and they get out?”

“What if one of them tries to–”

“Emmet!”

Emmet snapped out of his paranoid ramblings and looked up at his father as a hand gently squeezed his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t have full faith in you. You’re getting too old to live at home, and if I can help you get work with the duke.” Gerald said. “Well, that would be a better start to a career than I ever had.”

Emmet took a deep breath, attempting to calm his nerves as he started thinking things through.

“I need to have Aaron order more feed, and I should start storing water at the stables so I don’t need to carry so much, and–” Gerald raised a hand, interrupting his son.

“Save it for the morning, son.” He said, rustling Emmet’s hair. “Let’s go inside, before your mother gives us both an earful.”