A Street

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Beric is leading his horse for a walk around some of the streets of Bravos.

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Beric's destrier was a robust creature, black with a white star on its forehead. It was a handsome steed, fit to be the mount of a great knight or lord. The stallion followed Beric steadily, but occasionally his ears pricked and he raised his head, nostrils flaring, at oncoming traffic.

A dirty boy of no more than six was standing at a stall, selling clams and oysters. He had a strong Braavosi look to him. When he looked up and saw the knight and the magnificent black destrier, his eyes widened.

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Beric saw the boy looking at him, or rather his horse and stopped. "Fine horse, isn't he?" he said in a friendly tone.

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"He's huge," the boy said, both wary and curious. "Looks big enough to be a Dothraki horse, ser, and I seen some gorgeous Dothraki horses." He looked wistful as he fried and cooked seafood snacks to sell to passers-by. The boy was very young and had always dreamed of being a high lord or even a Westerosi knight, and of having a fine warhorse.

"Ser, I'll give you some clams for free if you let me have a go on him," the boy said, half afraid he'd get his ears boxed.

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Beric smiled. "Well, I am not a big fan of clams but I'll let you ride him anyway. When I was just a little older than you I was living on these streets, just around the corner from here." Beric led his trusted horse to the boy and stepped next to the saddle. "His name is Shadow." He then reached out his hand to help the boy mount.

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"Really? Are you a Braavosi knight?" the child asked, a little suspicious. There were Braavosis who followed the Seven, but few Braavosi knights.

"Shadow," the boy whispered, reaching out to touch the destrier on the withers. Shadow bent down and blew gently into the boy's fingers, his whiskers tickling the boy's palm. "I'm Varro," the boy said to the horse, and Shadow whickered. He was a gentle beast, well trained and faithful, a friend one could rely on in a charge or a joust.

Varro was beaming when Beric swung him up into the saddle. It was such a height! The black stallion towered above the street, and for a six year old child, Shadow was incredibly awe-inspiring. The stallion stood still, neck arched and legs aligned, as the boy lowered himself into the saddle and took the reins, a little hesitantly. But Varro was beaming.

"I feel like a king," he said to Beric. "Look at me!"

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"I remember what it felt like to first sit in a saddle. From up there one does feel very powerful." Beric smiled as the boy Varro slowly led Shadow along the road. "And no, I am not a Braavosi knight, however I did live here when I was younger; I am from Westeros." The boy was now becoming more confident on top of the horse and Beric shouted a command to Shadow.

All of a sudden the horse danced sideway, then went slowly into a gallop, crossing a bridge and jumping over a low fruitcart before returning to Beric. Shadow was a good horse and he knew to be careful with a new rider.

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Varro had clung to the saddle, stark white with fear, screaming all through the ride, and then lost his grip and his nerves and fell right into the fruit cart when Shadow jumped it. The fruit vendor was now shouting at the dazed boy, who had half a watermelon dripping over his head like a helmet, and melons, blood oranges, pears and guavas smashed on the cart.

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Beric went quickly to the cart, flicked some coins at the vendor and helped Varro to his feet. "I am sorry... Shadow can be quite reckless at times." Beric whispered something Shadow and his horse suddenly reared up and did a little dance on his hind legs.
Beric hoped it would make the boy smile.

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Varro laughed and clapped in delight, watching the horse prance with wide eyes. "He looks so silly," Varro giggled.

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"He does, doesn't he?" Beric laughed. "He's been able to do that since I got him. I found him near the castle of Starfall in Dorne. I have no idea who his previous owner was, but he and I get on great." Beric turned to the vendor, gave him another coin and took an apple. He handed it to Varro and said "Here, I think Shadow is a little hungry."

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The vendor handed over the apple grudgingly, still looking a little sour. With a nervous glance at the black horse, he wheeled his cart away as fast as he could.

"Ooh thanks," Varro said, delighted he could feed the horse. He held the apple out eagerly, almost pushing it into Shadow's nose, but the horse was quite amiable and took a big big bite out of the apple, munching happily.

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"He accepts the apple from you.... that means he likes you." In retort, Shadow gave a whicker. "See, he agrees. Beric noticed that the sun was starting to set. "However, Varro. I need return home now. I hope to see you again, and I am sure Shadow does too."

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"Thank you so much, ser!" Varro said, stroking the horse as Shadow munched. "He's the loveliest horse I've ever seen. And has the best tricks," he giggled, scratching the withers in a way Shadow seemed to appreciate.

"You're going?" His face fell, then brightened. "Wait, let me get you something." Varro dashed off to his stall, fast as his little legs could carry him, and disappeared inside. Moments later he came back out, carrying a bowl made of clean and dry seaweed. Inside was hot clams and fried fish, cooked with spices and onions. It was popular Braavosi street food, and smelled delicious.

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"Thank you very much, Varro. I do enjoy fried fish and my old friend Gaharr loves clams." He accepted the gift, mussed the boys hair and mounted Shadow. "I hope we meet again." he said to the boy and rode off.