After Vidnî’s departure the wise Rauno immediately took Arbros by the hand and led him into the camp of the Thendâ. It was a strange place: a circle of brown tents, each with a magnificent horse tethered by its door, and a spear thrust into the earth nearby. Thendári were moving about, doing their daily work, but ever and anon stopping by a horse as they passed by to pat or stroke it, or give it some morsel to eat. They were tall, silent beings, with dark braided hair: it was hard to tell a Thendáya from a Thendáwa, as they all had the same braids, the same leather breeches and boots, the same air of hidden power, and the same quick affection for their beasts.
Rauno brought Arbros to the door of one of the tents and called out:
‘Mëolande Tervi! Here is the lad! You can take him to meet Borotíki.’
And as a tall figure came from the dim interior, stooping to pass through the tent door, Rauno said to Arbros:
‘Here is Mëolande, the best rider of the Thendâ. She will teach you to be a horseman. Farewell for the present!’
Arbros looked up at the wide, pale face of the Thendáya with surprise. He had expected an expert rider to be of the male sex, a Thendáwa, because that was how things had been at Uxul. How much better it was to be here than at Uxul, he thought.
Mëolande Tervi said tersely:
‘You will be missing the maid. I will bring you to a new friend,’
Then she set off striding towards the back of the camp. In a corral of shaven branches on a grassy slope facing the east, various animals were grazing. Mëolande whistled, and a small brown pony with a long rough mane came trotting to her. She caressed him, and said:
‘Borotíki, here is the Hyûvanka lad we have told you about. Fate has marked him out to be a rider, but he has known only donkeys. Allow him to ride with you, I pray, and teach him to be a good rider, like a Thendáka lad.’
At this the pony whinnied loudly, giving Arbros a surprise. Then he came over and nuzzled up to Arbros’s face. Arbros felt the warmth of the beast, and a strange sense came to him. The animal loved him.
Mëolande Tervi said.
‘He likes you, lad. He’ll let us saddle him for you,’
That was the next thing she did. Then she showed Arbros how to mount and sit in the saddle, and Borotíki carried him around the paddock. It was the greatest feeling that Arbros had ever had in his short life, and straightaway he wanted to be with the pony always and ride him every day.
And so it began. Arbros now went to lodge with Mëolande Tervi and her Thendáwa. He spoke even less than she did, and merely greeted Arbros with:
‘So you’re the lad. My name is Terve Mëolandi.’
For that, Arbros learnt, was the customary way of naming when two Thendâ tented together for ever.
Arbros spent a few days on Borotíki’s back, under Mëolande’s guidance, and began to show signs of skill as a rider; he also became very saddlesore. He hardly thought about Vidnî at all. But one day Rauno came to him and said:
‘Tomorrow we shall ride east with half the sarron of the Thenda. Mëolande will ride with us, but Terve will stay with the other half of the sarron to guard the Kapatingos until the King or Queen — or both — is proclaimed.’
Then Arbros remembered the Quest and wondered how Vidnî was.
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