I come to learn Éogar's tale of how he became a stable-master in the Northlands, on account of how I didn't much care for a day with no work to do. I'd got up early as usual, had breakfast, and went out to the stables to meet him for more learning on how to breed horses. There weren't much teaching to start, just him asking me questions. I did the best I could, but I didn't know the answer to many of them. After a while of this, he told me I were doing well (maybe not as well as he hoped), and that I could take the rest of the day to myself. Well, I didn't seem happy for the day off like he'd expected, and he wanted to know why. Most the fellows would ride into town to get some of Barliman's best, or maybe go to a festival, seems there's near always one going on somewhere, or maybe meet up with some friends, or with the girl they're sweet on. I don't got no girl to court nor any friends to visit, and going to the Pony just reminds me of sad thoughts what not even Barliman's beer can wash away. I'd rather stay and work, and I said so. Said I should go to the room of records and try studying more so I might get those questions right next time, or at least a few more. He didn't think that were wise -- said pushing myself too hard wouldn't work, and wanted to know why I didn't do the things the other fellows did on a day off, so I told him all the sad tales of how I lost near everything what I chose Bree-land over the Mark for. Didn't mean to tell it all. Most folks don't want to hear anything sad, whether it's true or not. But he kept asking more, and it all poured out bit by bit. And it made him want to share with me his tale, on account he thought it'd put some light onto mine.
While things about learning a trade is simpler in some ways back in the Mark, some is the same. Éogar were apprenticed to a stable-keeper, then as a young man he took up work in the stable in Floodwend. The keeper there were, he come to learn, a foul man, lazy and selfish, what kept pushing most of his work onto his apprentices and stablehands. Éogar tried to keep to his work anyway and do it well, hoping the old stable-keeper would retire. He saved his coin, and worked hard to make a good impression on the people of the village, especially the Thane, so when the time came, all his struggle and suffering would pay off. He’d get to buy the stable, and run it far better than the man he worked for now, and more fair to the folk he hired, too.
But why stay in Floodwend, why not go to some other town, I asked. Well, you can guess the answer, as I ought. There was a girl. Fair of hair and face, but weak and prone to illness. Éogar described her as like the first flower of spring, bright and lovely, but frail. The healers said it were a passing thing and she were like to get better soon. Her parents were strong and sturdy farm folk. Éogar loved her and couldn’t leave Floodwend as long as she were too ill to leave, or to wish to be parted from her family. They were promised to marry, and Éogar hoped that soon after they married, the stable-keeper would retire, he'd buy the stable, and he would have everything he set out to have in life.
They did marry, in the spring. But she didn’t turn to the better. She got more pale, and soon was keeping abed all the time. The healers were sure they could cure her. Said that maybe it was the cure taking effect that made her wan; sometimes a treatment makes you weak afore it makes you strong. So Éogar kept working hard and hoping, sure that the life he planned was still coming, if a bit slower than he expected.
So he weren’t even there the day she passed, early in the morning, while he were mucking out stalls. They’d only been married a month. He was distraught, as you’d reckon. Asked the master for some time away. His master laughed and said no, he had to keep working, or he’d lose his place. Éogar grew wrathful and asked if the master was ever going to retire and sell the stable to him. The master laughed again. “Why should I, when you do all the work for me?”
Éogar can’t remember the next few days. There were probably mead involved, and tears, and more than likely a few badly made blows from an axe to timbers somewhere. Then he found himself in the Wilderland, riding north with no direction in mind other than away.
He’d at least had the wisdom to bring the coin he’d saved, so when he started to find his way, he decided to try to found a new stable in some land outside the Mark, where his knowledge of horses would be far more than that of the folk amongst whom he settled. And the mare he rode would make for a fine start to a breeding stock; she were swift and strong, and young enough to bear many foals. It took long afore he found a land where they lacked for good horses, but had plains in which a breeding farm could be built. Longer still to convince the other guild-masters of Bree-land to make a new mastership he could buy, after he proved that he wouldn’t compete overmuch with their business. Even more to build up a breeding herd, and then more still, to earn a reputation. And that’s how he come to be here at Hengstacer, the best horse breeder in the Northlands.
He means me to think that if he could make that life after such tragedy, that I could make one for my own self after my losses. Maybe that’s so, but it’s one thing to be told a thing is possible, and another to know how to make it happen. Encouragement is good, I cherish it, but it’s nothing compared to advice, to help in fixing a problem or finding a path to what you want in life. If I knew a way forward, I would take it, but I don't, and no one else I know can help, or chooses to. There ain't nothing for me to do but work.
