Page 48 of Trickster King

“Come meet this little lady,” I ordered, waiting for the boy to obey before trying to transfer the mare’s attention. The introduction went well, and within a few moments, Eddie forgot all about the owner, crooning to the mare and petting her velvety nose. “I’ll deal with the owner and find out who owns this horse. Her temperament is excellent.”

With that settled, I headed for the office, ready to wage war, especially if anyone thought they’d be sending the sorrel to the meat market over a fungal infection.

Before I could open fire, Randy swooped in, shaking hands with one of the men, old enough I marveled at his good health, bright and cunning eyes, and steadiness. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Jerrod. What can you tell us of the situation?”

“The center’s boarding rules are simple; if there are ever problems in the field, like the fungal infection we’re trying to eradicate, all boarders are required to share the financial burden. We’ve a lot of acres they get to use, and as we can’t prove who brought the infection into our fields, everyone pays to make the center safe for the stock again.” Jerrod eyed Eddie and the mare, his eyes narrowing. “That filly won’t be jumping for you, Your Majesty, if that’s what you’re hoping. Her owner is a bloody fool, thinking he can force a horse to do what she’s not good at. She wasn’t bred for jumping, her conformity isn’t right, and she’ll break something if we try what he wants.”

I hated people sometimes. “Is she in the lot for sale?”

“She is.”

“Here’s the deal. The RPS needs horses, good, reliable horses. The ones that aren’t suited to active duty work will be given to interior RPS agents for parade work. Every agent in the RPS gets a horse, and we need a training facility for them. I want your center to be that training facility. I also want it to be a Grand Prix center, because I have a colt that might fly for me given the right training and care—and I’ll be riding him when he wins his championship. That means I need training as much as my colt does. I’ve started the groundwork with him, and he’ll be ready to be ridden as soon as he gets his vet clearance. The stable staff would be hired by the RPS to help with the horses, and yes, they’d be eligible to receive a horse each as part of their service.” As magical talents mattered a little too much for most Texans, I added, “We do not have talent requirements for interior staffers, and the equestrian staff would fall under exterior. The kingdom would ultimately own the center, but we’d allow private citizens to make use of the Grand Prix trainers. The Grand Prix trainers would also need to help train the RPS horses. They’ll receive the education they need from our current trainers.”

Jerrod focused on me, and after a moment, he nodded. “That leaves the issue of the fungal infections.”

“The crown is limiting costs to a thousand an acre, and as the crown is buying the acreage, it’s our problem. If you’ve already paid earthweavers to have the infection eradicated, I’ll have the wife talk with them.”

That made the man wince. “I’d heard you could be rather vicious at times, but seeing is believing. A thousand an acre is something we can afford. We were going to be charged ten thousand an acre. While I could afford my share of it, the buyers are refusing.”

With a property as large as the equestrian center, I could understand why. “And they’re all right with five hundred a head to offload the horses?”

“They don’t want to pay the vet bills, either.”

“It’s a fungal infection, not a broken leg,” I grumbled, shaking my head.

“They have it in their heads that none of these horses will be able to jump because they’ll get soft hooves.”

Idiots. “Did they consult with a vet?”

“The vet said there was only minimal risk of such a thing happening, and that would only be due to negligent care. The reality is this: I won’t train sick horses, and they’ve all got problems with their hooves due to this fungus. And according to the boarding contracts, sick horses don’t leave my center to prevent the spread of any diseases.”

“Good man. I’ll have my wife’s lawyers come help with any of the contractual problems, but if you’ve got yourself a plague of profit mongers, I’ve got the five hundred a head to take these animals off your hands. If the horse isn’t coming home with me, the horse will be going home with an RPS agent. None of them will be headed to a meat market, not on my watch.”

“That’s good enough for me. I’ve been running this place for a long damned time, and it’s time to put it in younger hands—or find it a new and better purpose. Lately, people are wanting to train their own jumpers because everyone has it in their head they can be just as good as the professionals. Our client base is down, and our boarded horses are down to half of what it used to be. And I won’t lie, Your Majesty, these aren’t the cream of the crop. There are a few promising spirits among them, but most of them aren’t born jumpers. You’ve got a couple of dancers who don’t know they’re dancers yet, though. But jumpers? I can think of three who might jump for you with the right training.”

“Young owners who are after purses?” I guessed.

“Bingo. They’re quickly finding out that those purses are expensive to even try for. But, if you want to try for the Grand Prix, I’ve got a trained horse that might be up for your weight. She lost her second foal, so she worked as a nurse mare, but the colt is about weaned. She’s gotten out of her paddock a few times, and I’ve caught her going over the jumps for fun.”

“Age?”

“She’s eight.”

An older horse ready to learn would help me train Alexander the Great, which fell in line with my plans. “Who owns her?”

“She’s one of mine, but I’ll give her to you; that’s the least I can do for you taking a big problem off my hands. I’m not up for working my animals like they need, and while I’ll help with some training on your project, I know I can’t do her justice.”

I nodded. “I appreciate your faith in me, Jerrod. But why?”

“I’ve been around the block, and I’ve seen videos of you working those rescues of yours. I don’t do the rodeo circuits, but we talk to each other. You have a knack for finding a horse’s true potential, and you don’t give up on them, not unless there’s truly no hope for them. That’s the kind of care I want for these animals.”

“I can’t promise them safety,” I warned, and I nodded in Eddie’s direction. “That boy’s father lost his life in the line of duty. We do our best, but we lose horses sometimes, too.”

“The best care you can give is all I could ask. Let me show you the property. Bring the boy along. I’ve got a steady school horse he can ride.”

While Jerrod didn’t know how the fungus had gotten onto his property, he had an important clue I hadn’t seen before in the form of a dead tree covered in something resembling peach fuzz. “Don’t touch it,” the man ordered. “Stay away from the ground near it, too. It puffs up something fierce if disturbed.”

Well, well, well. I’d seen something like it on my ranch in the trouble field. I took a photograph of the tree and sent it to my wife. A moment later, my phone rang.

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