when we’re harvesting the llyri grass for the winter”) sounded a little too mystical, “mystical” not being a word anyone who knew him would apply to Ebon. But the king’s ban against questions, Sylvi and her attendants bemusedly realised, had been translated into “no political questions”: no questions about kings and treaties and government. And magicians. But the people had decided that Ebon was some kind of oracle.
The king, when this was reported to him, himself looked nonplussed and bemused, and then started to laugh. “Why should I have thought it was a simple, straightforward proscription? No questions. How can that be misinterpreted? Very well. I am willing to leave this to your judgement, Sylvi. Keep Ahathin close to you; he’ll intercede if you need him to—if you’re the least bit uncertain, let him do so. And come tell me about it afterwards.”
“And—Sylvi—try to remember not to wander around with your fingers curled in Ebon’s mane, will you? I realise that the—er—pony rides have confused the issue, but I did say something about behaving no differently than any other bound pair. The tradition of no physical contact is as old as the Alliance, and the casualness of your behaviour is disrespectful.”
If he were really cross he would call her Sylviianel, but he was right and she knew it. It was mostly comfort, having her hand in Ebon’s mane, especially on fête days when everyone was looking at them—and it was so easy to put it back there after she’d lifted a little rider down. But there was showing off in it too. “Yes, my sir,” she said.
“Good,” he said.
The pegasi weren’t that uncommon, even outside the palace—even outside the Wall. It was true that they mostly stayed in their own lands, but—Sylvi knew this from her father, but Ebon had told her the same thing—they felt humans needed to see them, and so they made a point of flying over all parts of the country, even the ones farthest from either the palace or their own territory, and stopping to graze and drink at meadows and streams near towns and villages. They never quite grasped human land ownership, and on at least one memorable occasion during Corone IV’s mother’s reign, a small group of pegasi had settled down for a mouthful and a nap on a piece of ground so hotly disputed that no human had set foot on it for a decade. But they knew to stay out of standing crops, because they raised crops themselves.
Any fête or festival big or important enough to host a member of the royal or any baronial family would expect the bound pegasus to attend also; as the presence of the pegasi at the palace was known to promote the welfare of the country, the presence of a pegasus or two at a fête was believed to contribute to the success of the occasion, especially if it were an occasion like a spring or a harvest festival. And there were the open court days at the palace, and occasional parades, all of which would feature pegasi. But ordinary people seemed as stirred at the idea of being able really to talk to a pegasus as Sylvi herself was—which she could understand. Perhaps it was this that had transformed itself into a hope that the pegasi could answer private questions the interlocutors couldn’t answer themselves merely because such questions weren’t about kings and treaties and governments.
Some of the questions weren’t difficult. The little girl with the grey-and-black zurcat in her arms wants to know if it will have any spotted kittens. Spotted zurcats always had spotted kittens. If it’s pregnant it will, replied Ebon with perfect logic.
Sometimes she was surprised at the things the pegasi knew, and wondered why humans hadn’t worked harder to learn some of them. Ebon was very good on weather, for example, and certain aspects of farming. No, he doesn’t want to put veer in this year, it’s going to be a hard winter, it’ll be too cold to grow. Djee would be better—you humans use djee, don’t you?—it thinks a good snow layer is warm and comfy. Maybe the Speakers’ Guild wasn’t very interested in farming.
She’d learnt early on not to ask him the truly oracular ones. The big good-looking girl wearing the red scarf wants to know whether she should marry the blacksmith or the baker.
Tell her she should run away to sea and become a pirate.
The tall man with the scar on his cheek wants to know