章 3: 3 : He won't last a second
As Eric stepped into the vast horse shed, the gate soldier who accompanied gave him a brief nod and left, leaving him amidst the rows of majestic war horses. The two miles stretched shed was bustling with activity, with servants moving swiftly, their hands full with grooming tools and buckets.
A stern-looking lady, evidently in charge of the servants, approached Eric with a scrutinizing gaze. She handed him a bucket of water and a scrub brush. "Clean the horses, like everyone else," she instructed briskly, her tone leaving no room for questions.
Ignoring the pervasive smell of horse manure, Eric walked towards a horse in the corner and began his task. Unlike the other servants, who hesitated and flinched as they approached the proud spirit horses, Eric moved with ease and confidence.
"Do you have any experience with horses?" the lady asked, observing Eric's calm demeanor with a hint of surprise.
"Yeah, a bit," Eric replied nonchalantly, continuing to scrub the horse with practiced strokes.
The lady watched him for a moment longer before nodding in approval and leaving him to his work. Eric worked methodically, moving from one horse to the next, giving each a thorough and gentle cleaning. He didn't need to focus on cultivation at the moment; understanding his Dao was a more pressing concern, and this time in a smaller clan was an opportunity for observation and learning.
His routine, however, was interrupted at the seventh horse. Eric noticed the animal standing on three legs, its right front leg swollen at the hoof joint. Without hesitation, he went to the tool shed and returned with a dagger and a medicine box.
With a swift, confident motion, he lifted the horse's foot onto his thigh and examined it closely. He quickly discovered a nail from the iron shoe had pierced the soft tissue of the heel. Efficiently, he loosened the nails, applied medicine, and then ingeniously tied a small rock to the other half of the hoof to provide some grip for the wounded leg.
"Where did you learn that technique?" The lady had reappeared, watching him with a mix of curiosity and admiration.
"Didn't I mention I have experience?" Eric replied with a wry smile, not looking up from his work.
"Haha, good. Continue this from tomorrow. I'll speak with the warden. Bring your belongings to the servants' quarters at the training grounds," she declared, clearly impressed.
"Thank you," Eric said, returning to his duties with a sense of accomplishment. He continued his work, each stroke and movement reflecting his deep understanding and care for these noble creatures, his presence in the shed bringing a new level of expertise and compassion to the daily routines.
As the morning sun rose higher in the sky, Eric methodically completed cleaning his designated horses in the shed. The lady overseeing the servants cast a satisfied glance over his work before dismissing everyone for their meal. The servants lined up, a mix of chatter and silence among them, to receive their share of the grade 1 spirit soup, a simple but nourishing fare provided to all palace servants.
Eric quietly took his bowl of soup and found a secluded spot under the shade of a large tree. The serene environment was a stark contrast to the bustling atmosphere of the horse shed. As he ate, he couldn't help but feel a slight dissatisfaction with the meal. His palate, accustomed to more refined sustenance, struggled to adjust to the basic, albeit wholesome, spirit soup.
In the background, a group of young servants from the horse shed huddled together, their eyes occasionally darting towards Eric. They whispered among themselves, a mischievous glint in their eyes.
"Let's see how the new guy handles the black horse of the princess" one snickered, his voice low but excited.
"Yeah, that beast has kicked off more servants and caretakers than any other. A perfect test for our Qi condensation stage friend," another added, a smirk playing on his lips.
As Eric finished his meal and stood up to leave, one of the young servants approached him with a feigned authoritative air. "Hey, you! The lady wants you to wash the black horse in the main shed. Better hurry up," he said, barely concealing his laughter as he turned away.
Unaware of the plot brewing against him, Eric took up his bucket and scrub and headed towards the main shed. As he walked, he noticed a group of young servants following at a distance, their whispers and chuckles barely audible.
Reaching the main shed at the end of the two miles shed, Eric found the notorious black horse, a magnificent yet imposing creature, known for its unruly temperament. He approached the horse with his usual calm and confidence, oblivious to the small crowd of servants that had gathered at a safe distance to watch the spectacle they were sure was about to unfold.
"Watch this, he won't last a second," one of the young servants whispered to his companions, their faces alight with anticipation.
As Eric approached the third princess's horse, his discerning eyes quickly noted its regal stature. The black steed, adorned with golden ornaments and gem-studded face decorations and golden hooves was a testament to its noble lineage. The servants, who had orchestrated Eric's situation, watched from a shadowed corner, their eyes gleaming with malicious anticipation.
With a serene confidence, Eric stood face to face with the horse, gently caressing its muzzle with a delicate touch. He began to meticulously remove the golden decorations, revealing the animal's natural elegance. Instead of using a scrub, Eric employed a unique technique, his hands moving with a healer's precision along the horse's meridians. His fingers seemed to dance in an ancient rhythm, channeling a mysterious energy that soothed the horse's nerves, imparting a cooling sensation followed by a warm, comforting massage.
The horse, entranced by this unexpected kindness, responded with calmness, a stark contrast to its usual haughty demeanor. Within ten minutes, Eric had not only cleaned but revitalized the animal. He then started to reattach the ornaments with the same meticulous care, restoring its majestic appearance.
However, just as he was placing the face gems back, a high-pitched curse shattered the tranquility. "Bastard, who allowed you to touch my sister's horse? Where is that damn lady?" A young nobleman in dazzling clothes, his face twisted in fury, burst onto the scene. His fine clothes did little to mask his unbridled anger.
Instantly, the area was abuzz with activity. Servants and ladies-in-waiting, drawn by the commotion, converged around Eric and the horse. Whispers and gasps filled the air, each person trying to piece together the unfolding drama. The nobleman's accusations echoed through the crowd, creating a cacophony of shock and speculation.
The group of young man were the first to arrive as they felt satisfied with turn of events.
In the midst of this chaos, Eric stood calmly, waiting for the drama to unfold.
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Your's lovingly,
PeterPan :-)
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