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later he was out through the door and the sunlight hit him in both eyes like
the blades of swords.
He blinked, and stood for a few seconds, letting his gaze adjust to the
brightness. Then, looking around the courtyard, he saw both Sir John and Sir
Giles examining one of the horses that had been brought out from the stables
for them. It was Jim's own Gorp the closest thing he had to a real destrier,
or war horse.
A kitchen servant stood by the two knights, patiently holding a pitcher which
undoubtedly contained wine, since both knights had cups in their hands. A
couple of other cups were hooked to the servant's belt.
Jim walked toward the three men and the horse, his head throbbing with the
jar of each foot hitting the cementlike hardness of the pounded earth that was
the courtyard floor.
"Ah, Sir James," said Sir John as he approached, and both knights turned
toward him. "A stablehand was just walking this magnificent beast of yours;
and we stopped him to look the animal over."
Now that Sir John spoke, Jim saw a diminutive stable servant that had been
more or less hidden from his sight by the two knights and Gorp himself,
holding the end of the halter around Gorp's neck.
"So I see," said Jim as he met them and stopped. "Yes."
Even through the fog of his hangover, he was keenly aware that a couple of
knights like Sir John and Sir Giles knew very well that Gorp was no
"magnificent beast." But at the moment his aching head was not up to coming up
with a more satisfactory answer to Sir John's statement.
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"But what are you thinking of, fellow!" said Sir John, turning on the servant
with a pitcher. "Standing there like a post without offering your Lord a cup?"
The servant started hastily, jerked one of the empty cups from his belt,
filled it and held it out to Jim with a "very sorry, m'Lord."
Jim was too slow to stop him. Silently he accepted the brimming cup of wine,
the very sight and smell of which threatened to make his stomach turn
over when he noticed that both of the other two knights were watching him
keenly.
Foggy-headed as he was, he suddenly became aware that this was another of
those little tests which people of the class he had ended up in loved to
indulge.
They knew in what state he had gone upstairs to bed the night before. They
must have a very good idea of how he was feeling right now; and, particularly,
how he was feeling toward the idea of another cup of wine. There was nothing
unfriendly about their interest; but it was part of the general pattern, along
with the tournaments and the other rough sports of the period a sort of
general testing that went on all the time, of everybody by everybody. It was
as if everyone wanted to make sure that the people around him or her still had
all the strengths they had originally been given credit for. Whatever
happened, he was going to have to drink this cup of wine.
He could cheat by removing the wine as he pretended to swallow; but somehow
he was ashamed to do this.
He dared not close his eyes. He put the cup to his lips and simply began
swallowing. For a moment his stomach hovered on the edge of revolt; but again,
as with the small beer, the fact that he was pouring liquid into his
dehydrated body seemed to save him. He drained the cup to the bottom and
handed it back to the kitchen servant, who promptly refilled it to the top and
handed it once more back to him.
This time, Jim felt he had safely passed the test. He took a sip or two from
the second cup, finding it not at all hard to get it down, and made himself
smile at Giles and Sir John who smiled back.
"About the beast here," said Sir John, turning back to Gorp. "Is he
schooled?"
Jim felt a strong touch of embarrassment. Gorp was about as unschooled as any
horse ever ridden into combat could be. But Jim's wits seemed unexpectedly
sharpened by the sudden jolt of the near-pint of wine within him on top of the
small beer though that had had almost no alcohol in it at all.
He backed off half a dozen paces and spoke to the stablehand holding the end
of Gorp's halter.
"Womar!" he said to the man. "Let him go."
The stablehand dropped the end of the halter rope and Jim whistled.
Gorp looked around, mildly surprised. He spotted Jim; and, turning leisurely,
plodded over to lower his head and snuffle at Jim's chest for the reward that
usually followed his answering that whistle. At the moment, however, Jim had
nothing to give him. Sugar was unknown, so the sugar cube he might have
offered a horse as a reward back in the twentieth century was impossible. This
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spring's carrots were not grown yet and last year's were long gone. As were
last year's oats.
Jim patted and stroked the horse a little bit, speaking to him to try and
make up for the lack of a gift, then stood back and gave him another order.
"Up, Gorp!" he cried. "Up, boy!"
Gorp went into his only other trick which was to rise on his hind legs with
his front hooves pawing dangerously at the air before him. It was a false but
good imitation of a war horse fighting along with his rider. Then he dropped
back to all four legs.
"There. Very good, Gorp. Good horse," said Jim.
After some more petting, stroking and praising he took the halter rope and
led him back to Womar.
"Indeed " Sir John was beginning approvingly, when the howl of a wolf from
some not too distant spot suddenly split the bright morning air, Sir John
broke off speaking, Gorp jerked so strongly at his head rope that Womar almost
lost his grip on it, and Womar himself turned pale.
"The second time this morning, m'Lord," he murmured shakily to Jim. "Evil
thing 'tis, hearing a wolf howl like that in broad daylight. Night's the time
for wolf howls. Some evil's about!"
Jim was suddenly aware of the eyes of both Sir John and Giles bright and
knowingly upon him.
"I wouldn't worry about it, Womar," said Jim, as briskly as he could. "I
believe I know that wolf and why he's howling. If you'll saddle a couple of
horses for these two gentlemen and one for me not Gorp here "
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