Blackie trotted briskly up the cobblestone street. He felt all war horse today, eager and excited to get back to some action. He liked Shota, and felt bound to him by duty, but everything Shota wanted to do was boring. All they did was travel all day, stopping to eat and rest. Shota's singing was the only thing that kept him from breaking into a run just to feel the sheer, heart-pounding joy of it. Blackie missed the mounted archery drills, the sword fighting contests, the galloping down a hill to meet an enemy and kick it into next week. Face it, he told himself. You're a war horse, and if you had a choice, you'd go back.
"Slow down, Blackie," Shota said from behind his ears. Blackie dropped to a walk. He'd become over-excited even thinking about his former career. "We're in town."
"Sor
