No one had the slightest desire to test Mrs Taumaturge's patience, so they hurried over to the stables. A stocky woman was standing in front of one of the side entrances to the building, and a little way behind her stood six stablehands with stony expressions. They looked as though they were at a drill parade.
'I must admit, I didn't expect you to turn up here at such a decent hour,' the woman croaked. It could have been taken as a compliment, had one not heard her tone or seen the scowl contorting her chubby face. 'Today you'll be getting to know the wargs. Under the supervision of the stablehands, you'll groom them and prepare them for the lesson,' she began to explain, her gaze sweeping over the cadets' faces as if searching for a weak link to break. 'Later, we'll head out onto the track and see if you can even mount the saddle properly.' She snorted. 'Finally, you'll dismount and clean your mounts, and only then will you be allowed to finish today's class. Understood?'
'Understood, Instructor!' they replied instinctively in unison.
'Excellent…' The instructor pulled a stack of papers from her bosom and studied them for a moment. 'It seems that a few of you have your own mounts.' She said this with a touch less distaste than before. 'Those who have applied for permission to use their own mounts will be getting used to them.' She waved the documents casually and stepped aside. 'Follow the stablehands' instructions.'
'To avoid any confusion, we'll be taking each of you individually and leading you to your designated mount,' said one of the stablehands, a man in his prime, stepping forward from the ranks. 'The rest of you wait your turn.'
Without waiting for a reply or any other reaction, the other stablehands set off from their positions. Each of them carried a piece of paper with a short list. As they approached, they read out the names and waited for the right person to come forward. Draco watched as five cadets disappeared through the stable door, whilst the rest waited patiently to be called. The dragon knew that the first attempt at saddling a mount was no easy task, and the number of instructions one could expect was greater than a beginner could have imagined. Fitting the entire harness onto a mount could be complicated, especially for someone who'd never had any experience with it before.
Just as the dragon had thought, the cadets emerged from the stables after nearly twenty minutes. They all looked rather exhausted, whilst the stablehands merely shook their heads. The wargs, wolf-like creatures the size of a small pony, were the only ones who seemed indifferent to the whole affair. The mounts, now fully harnessed and ready to ride, seemed accustomed to the new riders' clumsiness, though they followed the cadets calmly once they'd left the building.
'Draco Ignis!' The dragon gave a little jump, as he hadn't expected his turn to come so soon. Not wanting to attract the instructor's negative attention, he hurried and almost ran up to the stable boy who'd called him out. 'It might take us a while with yours,' said the man, pointing to the door behind him and inviting the boy inside.
'It shouldn't be that bad,' Draco said only once they were inside. He even wondered whether he should wait until they'd moved a little further away to make sure Mrs Taumaturge wouldn't hear him. 'I groom Fen myself, so I've got a bit of practice.' He hesitated for a moment. 'Well, perhaps it's better to say I've had a bit of a go at it.' He laughed nervously.
'Good to hear.' The stablehand leading the dragon gestured towards the back of the stable.
Only now did the reptile look around. The building, which hadn't seemed all that big from the height of Solvein's base, was impressive on the inside. A long, single room was divided by wooden partitions, and the three aisles thus created were sectioned off into stalls. Glancing left and right, he quickly assessed that most were occupied by wargs, although something larger was moving about in the more distant stalls. In several other places, curious horses were poking their heads out from the doors of their stalls, watching everyone moving about. And there was certainly no shortage of activity.
Apart from those looking after their group, a swarm of staff were bustling about the stables. All around, the stablehands were going about their duties: one was pushing a wheelbarrow laden with fresh bedding, another was feeding the mounts, yet another was clearing manure from the stalls, and another was changing the water in the troughs. What's more, it took Draco a moment to notice that above the aisles, at floor level, there was a wooden walkway from which one could observe the gathered creatures.
'Yours is on the other side,' the man said, pointing to the last aisle. 'We had to keep him separate, because the wargs don't take kindly to bess.' The dragon merely nodded and quickened his pace, not wanting to fall behind his guide.
Fenrir reacted strongly at the sight of his rider. The beast nearly rammed through the door of his stall, and it was only thanks to the dragon's quick reaction that an accident was avoided. Fen looked as though he'd been well looked after. He'd been unsaddled, cleaned and groomed. However, it was immediately obvious that he missed Draco and was overjoyed that he wouldn't have to sit alone in the small room any longer.
'Will you be all right?'
'I've done this a few times before.' He tried to put on a confident expression, though he didn't mention that at Ed'heer there had always been someone watching over his every move and correcting his mistakes.
'Well then, go on.' The stableman pointed to a neat row of saddles lined up against the wall.
Draco set to work straight away. The start was simple: throw the saddlecloth over the beast's back, place the saddle on top, taking care not to position it too close to the two pairs of shoulder blades. Then the tricky bit began. Positioning the girths and fastening straps correctly took a bit of time and required concentration, though it wasn't impossible, especially as Fen was doing his best to make the task easier for the dragon. Bess was well aware that they were getting ready for their lesson together.
Once the saddle was secured and the stirrups roughly positioned, it was time for the bridle. Compared to a horse's, this was simpler for bess. The leather straps were fastened over the head, above the beast's jaw, so as not to hinder it when attacking an opponent with its teeth. For practical reasons, there was also no need to use a bit. Bess was very good at reading even the slightest tugs on the reins and responded to them flawlessly.
Once everything was in place, Draco was satisfied. The straps and buckles sat comfortably without hindering Fenrir, and the saddle sat securely on his back. The stablehand, who had been watching the dragon's every move, walked round the bess, checking various details. The reptile had to admit that the man had nerves of steel, as he didn't react in the slightest to Fen's discontented growls and his somewhat chaotic movements as he tried to avoid him. Finally, the saddling process was given the go-ahead, so Draco took his mount's reins and set off with him towards the exit.
Pleased with himself, he paid no attention to what was happening around him, focusing instead on Fenrir and his behaviour. Bess, however, seemed very keen to cooperate. He strode briskly ahead and even looked at the dragon reproachfully, as if to ask why they were walking so slowly and why they weren't riding off yet.
It was only the stifled cries that brought Draco back to reality. He stepped out in front of the stables, and Fen poked his head over Draco's shoulder, baring his teeth as he eyed the other cadets.
The students looked shocked as they stared at the pitch-black beast and its blood-red eyes. Some even took a step back.
The reptile felt a nudge and realised he'd stopped in the middle of the aisle, blocking the way. Without waiting for another reminder, he pulled Fen to one side, towards the people who'd already managed to handle the wargs.
As he approached the group waiting for the lesson to continue, he didn't notice it at first, but the beasts sitting beside their temporary riders began to rise and pace on the spot, or move gently away from the bess. Draco stopped Fen as soon as he noticed the reaction of the other mounts. It was clear that, for the time being, he was destined to keep slightly to one side.
The surprise amongst the cadets waiting for their turn had, in the meantime, turned to fascination. The dragon could have bet that, were it not for the firm presence of the Instructor Taumaturge, the students would have swarmed him, trying to pry out every detail about Fen. A mixture of admiration and envy burned brightly in their eyes.
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Waiting for everyone to saddle up dragged on, and it seemed particularly long for bess, who stood still for a full five minutes before beginning to nudge the dragon with his paw, eventually wrapping his forepaws around the boy and leaning his full weight against him. And Fen weighed quite a lot. Somehow, however, the dragon managed not to topple over and even managed to feign that he was leaning against the beast's chest of his own accord, allowing himself to slump down slightly. Fenrir seized the opportunity and nestled his head against the reptile's shoulder, purring softly as he did so.
Among the other cadets, as Instructor Taumaturge had pointed out, a few were to practise with their own mounts. They were the ones who had to wait the longest for their turn.
Eventually, Adam stepped out accompanied by a creature resembling a massive cheetah with dark green fur speckled with brown, a forked tail and elongated, slightly iridescent fangs. The beast moved without making the slightest sound and seemed to be the first not to fear Fen.
Next came Warren, accompanied by a small, wolf-like creature with a long, rat-like tail and wide-set eyes, which was the size of a miniature horse. Given the goblin's height, the mount was a perfect match for him.
The third to appear alongside his own mount was Sheth. The troll was leading a grey orvang by the bridle. The enormous beast, resembling a monitor lizard, sniffed the air curiously, and when it drew near the bess, it hissed and retreated slightly. Draco noticed its bridle, which was the only one richly adorned with traditional patterns. It looked so intriguing that even those who had been staring at Fenrir the whole time took an interest in it.
Right behind Sheth came Noah, who was the only one not holding the reins; yet the rusty-grey wolven walked step for step behind the parthir. The beast looked around curiously, but every few paces it would glance at its rider. Swivelling its wolfish head swiftly, with its elongated front fangs, it sent shivers down the spine as its brown, twisted, ram's-horn-like horns cut through the air with a whistling sound.
The last to emerge from the stables were Eric and Cedric, both leading horses. The former gently led an apple-coloured, calm steed behind him. Retfield, on the other hand, walked alongside a proud, piebald war stallion. The horse held its head high and seemed to regard the other creatures with an air of superiority. Interestingly, it showed no fear of the aggressive predators that could have torn it to shreds. The dragon had to admit that whoever had trained the stallion had done a brilliant job.
'At last.' The shrill voice left no room for even the slightest exchange of words. 'No one mounts the beast without permission,' announced Instructor Taumaturge, casting a warning glance around the whole group, focusing in particular on those with their own mounts. 'Everyone will have a chance to prove themselves in the paddock. Now, follow me.' As usual, she didn't wait for anyone and set off up the slope.
Draco, along with the rest of the cadets, followed the woman. The Academy's mounts reacted even faster than the students and practically dragged them along of their own accord. Fen merely snorted as he watched the wargs' reaction; with a slight hesitation and a sigh of disappointment, he followed the reptile.
'I wasn't expecting a mount like that.' Zane drew as close as his beast would allow, and it had absolutely no desire to get any closer to the bess.
'I hadn't planned on it either.' The dragon shrugged.
'A present?' The sarcasm in the elf's voice was a bit over the top, so Draco struggled to work out exactly what Zane meant.
'No, I found him at the harbour and somehow we ended up together.'
'Tss, lucky bloke.' The hiss was followed by a long sigh. 'I'd like that too.'
'Arkien's a big place; there's always a chance.'
The elf shot the dragon a sidelong glance and said nothing.
'Don't tease Zane, or he'll come up with some daft idea.' Noah swept his gaze over the reptile, paying no attention to the bess. 'Towards the end of the year, he was constantly whingeing about not having his own mount. I thought my ears would wither off. I won't put up with that a second time.'
'Then don't listen to it,' Zane snapped, and, much to his warg's delight, picked up the pace.
'What's got into him?' Draco wasn't sure whether he should be concerned or simply let the brief exchange slide.
'Don't worry. He'll moan and moan until he gets bored of it.' Parthir moved closer, placing a reassuring hand on the wolven's armoured forehead as he did so. 'Between you and me, though everyone knows it anyway, Zane was supposed to get a mount.' He lowered his voice. 'He was boasting that his father had promised to buy him whichever one he wanted, provided he scored above expectations in all his subjects in the exam. Well, as luck would have it, Zane's own impatience meant he only scored an 'acceptable' in history.' He took a few steps in silence. 'Needless to say, his father was unyielding…'
'It seems… he didn't quite cope with it.'
'If only.' The choppy laughter was clearly forced. 'He railed against everything around him, but somehow forgot about his own mistakes.'
'There's nothing I can do about that.' The dragon shrugged, and Fen snorted briefly. 'He could have retaken the exam, after all.'
'He couldn't.' Noah shook his head. 'You can only retake the ones you've failed.'
'Silence.' A shriek swept over the whole group. 'If you've got the energy to chat, you can speed up instead!' Instructor Taumaturge picked up the pace, and no one dared speak again.