Several others, the dainty white palfrey included, occupied the stalls, but those steeds belonged to the MacKai knights and his betrothed. He’d given up his own destrier years ago—the animal had been too expensive to care for and fetched a price high enough to keep the other Dungarob horses in feed through four winters. The only decent horse he’d kept was Artis’s dappled gray courser, Aingeal-ceo. She was greatly attached to the animal, and he’d not had the heart to sell it. Since he couldn’t do his duty to his people and his holding without a sturdy mount, he’d made his use of the stallion a condition of its keeping and for not gelding the beast. As for the other two horses, not one had borne a saddle in close to a year, and neither would be an easy mount for a lady. ’Twas the only reason he was glad Lady Du Grace had brought her own steed. Pulling an apple from the barrel where they were kept, he walked over to the mare. Dougal followed. There’d been a time when the MacKai stables had been famous for the strength and stamina of the steeds bred and trained at Dungarob and filled with fine horses.
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