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“Of course there’re stables here, bridgeboy,” Adolin quipped, leaning against the wall. “What decent city doesn’t have a proper stable?”
“If you hadn’t noticed, no one could have gotten here on horseback,” Kaladin returned with a sigh. He hadn’t planned to spend the day in Urithiru’s stables, but that decision had been out of his hands. Adolin wanted to check on the day’s biggest news, and Kaladin was assigned to him for the day. Syl danced circles around a nearby mare’s head, laughing with a high, clear voice. She sped off, turning in her flight to wave at Kaladin in a mass of softly glowing, windy dresses.
The princeling waved a hand, as though the assertion meant little. “Even so, who wouldn’t want to bring their best horses - best Ryshadium - with them for any extended period of time?”
Kaladin shook his head, eyes scanning the room. The bottom level of Urithiru was built for mostly food storage and stables, most assumed, and as such was being used as originally intended. The stables themselves had a high roof, likely designed with the behemoth Ryshadium in mind. The windows let in enough light so that they needed very few spheres, especially this late in the morning, though a few bags of diamond chips had been set out anyway. The stink of horses, hay, and leather clung to the place, even after only a little over a week of use. Stable attendants hurried around, settling the Brightlords’ horses into vast stalls and setting out straw. Kaladin hadn’t the faintest idea where they’d found the bedding, but what surprised him the most was the sheer amount of lighteyes crammed into the stable. Throngs of lighteyed men lingered around the stalls, idly stroking manes and chattering with each other. No matter what they said, Kaladin knew they were all here for the same thing - the riderless Ryshadium.
He couldn’t say he knew why Adolin wanted to come and see if the horse would take him. Adolin had seemed quite upset after the death of his own stallion, even though he had refused to talk to Kaladin for some days after the battle. His jokes were few and far between, and there was a tension to the prince’s shoulders. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was all caused by Sureblood’s death.
A stablehand hurried up to Adolin, hesitantly nodding as she said the stablemaster would see him now. A three hour long wait, for a horse that probably won’t take him, Kaladin thought as he followed Adolin towards the stall. Adolin had talked about how Ryshadium don’t often take a second rider at length earlier this morning, laughing and nervous. Apparently the fact that the horse hadn’t kicked his way out of the stall and demanded freedom spoke of a desire to find a new rider, though Kaladin wasn’t so sure. Losing someone was a hard thing to go through, and if these horses were as intelligent as their insane riders said, maybe there was something else driving the stallion to stay.
The stablemaster held a bucket of water in hand, with a storm of an expression on her face as the trio approached. Syl had reappeared, gliding slowly over to Kaladin. She took her usual spot at his shoulder, only now she was clad in riding clothes.
“You know, Kaladin, almost every Radiant had a Ryshadium back then,” she claimed, her voice clear and brilliant as a sky. She knew full well what Kaladin thought of horses, and so today’s trip amused her greatly. Ever since arriving, she had been all smiles and bright words.
Kaladin grunted softly while Adolin and the stablemaster talked, opting not to reply to Syl’s comment.
“It’s true,” she insisted. He eyed her doubtfully, turning his attention to Adolin and the stablemaster while Syl went on about the status of Ryshadium.
“ – I wouldn’t be too surprised if he just snorts and stamps his feet at you, Brightlord, and if he does I advise you leave the stall quickly,” the stablemaster said firmly, gesturing to the stall door. “Understood? I’ll have no heroics in trying to win the horse’s admiration - I’ve already had to kick out some of the younger lords before they got their heads kicked.”
Adolin nodded, smiling, “Perfectly. May I?”
She took a step back, allowing Adolin to enter the stall. Kaladin followed, going to stand next to the outer wall of the stall. The top of it barely came to the middle of his chest, allowing for a thorough view of the beast inside the clean wooden stall. It was taller than even Dalinar’s Gallant, though far leaner in the limbs. It sported a heavily dappled, light brown coat, with mane and tail of the same tone. Save for the stark white streak on its nose, the stallion looked about the same as any other horse Kaladin had seen, size aside. Various bits of tack hung about the stall, all finely tooled and set with metal. A plate bearing the name Bethabhung from a chain nailed into the wood, as well as another plate engraved with Glory. Two clearmarks were hung next to the nameplates - Kaladin suspected that if not for the current trend of all higher marks and chips being used for Surgebinding, the spheres hung on the stall door would have been more expensive and elaborate.
As Kaladin watched, Adolin opened the stall door slowly, offering a hand to the giant of a horse. The stallion lifted its head from the scattered hay on the floor, nostrils flared. The prince stood firm, however, and did not look into the beast’s attentive eyes. There was a tense smile on his face as he neatly bowed to the stallion, who only watched with overly intelligent eyes. It paused, swishing its tail in what Kaladin could only assume was annoyance, before snorting once and lifting its head higher.
He backed out of the stall slowly, cursing under his breath. He didn’t turn his back on the Ryshadium until he had closed the gate. “Well, at least I won’t have to deal with one of Bethab’s hateful looks for taking his son’s Ryshadium. Maybe Renar-”
Adolin was cut off as the Ryshadium drummed across the stall, sticking its head over the wall to stand face to face to with Kaladin. His first instinct was to jump back and give it space, but before he could react the tense voice of the stablemaster came from behind him, “Don’t move, boy, unless he does first.”
“Him?” came Adolin’s startled voice from the side.
“Him!” answered Syl playfully.
Kaladin stammered quietly as the Ryshadium sniffed his face, nudging his shoulder as it went. He barely registered Syl laughing as she spun over the horse’s neck, but the hush that fell over the stable was more present in mind.
After a few stressful minutes, the chestnut stallion rested the crook of it’s neck on Kaladin’s shoulder, enveloping him in the heavy scent of clean horse. Almighty.
“This can’t mean what I think it does, correct?” Kaladin murmured softly, turning his head as far as he could to look to the stablemaster.
She only chuckled quietly, a more subdued match to Syl’s delicate laughter. “Most people would be ecstatic right about now, Brightlord. He’s all yours now, I should say, tack and all. He’s as good as any Ryshadium, though a touch more stubborn. Fast, too, with those legs. Though you’ll have to settle the tack issue with Highlord Bethab - his son did pay for that equipment - he hasn’t a say in who the Ryshadium allows on his back. I’d have the grooms get him ready for a first ride, but as we’re without an arena-”
“I’m busy all afternoon, and I’m no Brightlord,” Kaladin interrupted, backing away as the horse turned back towards its meal.
Adolin looked struck, interjecting before the stablemaster could open her mouth. “How are you busy? You’ve been with me since this morning, and the next shift should be through soon. And besides, this is a Ryshadium, Kaladin! The things some people would do for this chance…”
“I’m assigned to Dalinar next,” he returned, sighing, “What would I do with a Ryshadium? It should go to someone who’ll make use o-”
“Glory chose you,” the stablemaster said, nodding to the horse. “And he’ll take no other, now.”
Kaladin huffed quietly, eyeing the horse. He didn’t like the things. They painted an effective target on peoples’ backs, especially these ones. They were dangerous, unpredictable, and not suited for the fighting style he was adopting as a Radiant. “I’ll talk to Dalinar.”
Adolin grinned, as tense as was usual lately, but this time seemingly genuine, by Kaladin’s guess. They bid their farewells to the stablemaster and the dispersing crowd as they left the stables, Adolin’s arm draped across Kaladin’s shoulders casually. Syl giggled as she darted about the two, following them out of the room.
“I’ll admit, I’m impressed, bridgeboy,” Adolin continued as they walked down the hall to the stairs, gesturing with his free hand, “I didn’t know you had it in you to impress a Ryshadium by standing there and looking pretty.”
“Oh, storm off, princeling.”