The Prairie Wolf and the World's First Rider
It seemed like Vesta was fitting in quite well on the steppe. That was a relief.
Sip.
The Khan sipped her tea slowly and spoke.
“Yes. It must be thanks to the people who helped me adapt.”
Even Vesta, a human from the Empire where tea culture had not yet developed that far, looked convincingly at home as he sipped his tea.
“Indeed. But one cannot force a horse to drink water. It was possible precisely because you worked hard to blend in with the people.”
“…Is that so?”
To Vesta, it was nothing particularly extraordinary.
Receiving praise was not a bad thing.
“Must be Orolbai and Altaia. They seem to have left a good impression on you.”
“Ah, so the wife of Orolbai is Altaia?”
“I see. Orolbai must not have mentioned it.”
“Yes. I have never heard of it from Altaia-sama.”
The middle-aged gentleman Orolbai and the young maiden Altaia.
On the surface they looked quite different in age.
‘Since they are a half-elf and a human family.’
Viewing it through human standards would be meaningless.
If Altaia were older than Vesta, it would be rather surprising.
“I thought about it even then. If we marry after seeing them, will I end up living like that too?”
“Hmm.”
The Khan looked at Vesta with her deep eyes.
“What do you think, Vesta?”
“I, I cannot say for certain.”
“I see. A noncommittal answer, yet I will not tease you.”
The Khan smiled faintly and brought her teacup back to her lips.
“Should we follow Orolbai today, or Ahor?”
“Do as you wish.”
The Khan did not seem inclined to impose any strict schedule. Perhaps because she had lived as a nomad her whole life, she was also somewhat lenient with Vesta.
Speaking of which.
“Yes.”
“Speaking of which, I heard you found Bia.”
“Bia…? Ah, I see. You mean the centaur.”
“Indeed. She has agreed to return soon, so if you have no plans, how about spending the day following her around?”
“I will do so.”
Vesta decided on the spot.
“Talking long enough, she will show up naturally.”
“…Yes.”
By the pretext of waiting for the centaur named Bia, their conversation continued longer than usual.
Then, the topic of werewolves came up.
“Being unable to tame a werewolf is truly a pity.”
“Even the dogs outside do not lag behind.”
“Well. Look at that hide hanging over there.”
The Khan gestured with her chin toward a place. There hung the hide of a massive werewolf, the one Vesta had seen before.
“A werewolf that did not degenerate and preserved its purity. An opponent of rare quality. It is impossible to hide the regret at the thought of him.”
Since even the Khan of the Bow regretted it, the opponent could not have been merely large.
“The real werewolves must be different.”
“Even those called degenerates are smarter than dogs. How could it be otherwise? That one was wiser than a human and braver.”
‘A werewolf smarter and larger than a human.’
Indeed. Far more threatening than imagined.
If such beings were allied with orcs, it would be a catastrophe.
Thinking back, the werewolves Orolbai had faced also moved with ‘human-like’ systematic intelligence.
‘If it had not been me but Orolbai.’
Perhaps, with a blade—
Khan. Have you finished your patrol and returned?
“What perfect timing. No, perhaps it was better to have come a little later…”
The Khan shot Vesta a glance.
“…Regret is a good thing too.”
Those words were not heard by Vesta. The Khan raised her voice while looking toward the entrance.
“Indeed. Come in. I have someone I would like to introduce to you.”
—That person.
Bia entered the Khan’s quarters. Because the centaur was so large, the entrance looked crowded.
A woman of strange beauty.
Golden coat like it had been brushed with gold.
The mane and tail hair were not tangled, so well groomed. It must have been soft and silky.
‘Altangerel.’
Indeed, worthy of the name ‘Golden.’
“This is the first time I have faced you directly.”
Vesta looked up and met her eyes.
Aside from the fur-covered ears, it was the face of a beautiful human.
As expected, the eyes were large and the eyelashes long.
The Empire had declared them monsters, yet in truth they were more beautiful than humans.
“I have troubled the Khan due to her stubbornness. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“?”
The woman spoke her mind despite the Khan standing right beside her.
The Khan merely smiled faintly without paying any attention.
“I am Altangerel Bia. Please call me Bia.”
“I am Vesta. I have no surname.”
“Very soon you will be Ergior Vesta, will you not?”
“Haha…”
A true woman of the steppe. Her conversational skill was outstanding.
“Bia. You will be leaving for the outside again anyway, will you not?”
“Indeed.”
“Take Vesta with you when you go. Show him the beauties of the steppe and travel together.”
“I will do so.”
Bia accepted without hesitation. Bia looked down at Vesta and asked.
“However, do you have a horse?”
“Ah.”
*
It was difficult to believe.
The one who had solved the problem was the Khan.
She had declared that Vesta could choose any horse he liked from among those she possessed.
Vesta was astonished at her generosity, and Ahor and the one outside, Bia, were even more surprised.
For a nomad, a horse was far more than a simple beast of burden. Its meaning ran much deeper.
It was not something one gave freely to another.
Even more so, to receive such treatment and be allowed to choose one for oneself.
It was no wonder Ahor was astonished.
“Choose from these.”
Ahor brought together the horses she had been grazing.
No farm manager would have seen such a large number of horses.
“With so many, I wonder which one to choose.”
Vesta sought advice from Ahor.
“I can explain about good horses, but for the first one, how about choosing according to your heart?”
“I cannot trust my own eyes.”
“A young horse with little experience will grow with an immature rider, and the opposite will guide the rider.”
Ahor stroked her own words.
“These are irreplaceable experiences.”
“Then I will trust Ahor and choose the one that calls to my heart.”
Vesta boldly walked toward the horses, and a strange thing happened.
The horses’ reactions diverged sharply.
Some ran away, as if Vesta were smaller than they were.
Others simply poked their heads out in curiosity at the human.
Of course, some bared their teeth or snorted roughly.
Though they looked similar from the outside, each possessed its own individuality, like humans.
“Indeed. You are all different. Like people.”
“Are you going to choose the gentle ones?”
Bia asked. Vesta shook his head.
Vesta wanted a sturdy ally who would protect him.
The horse Vesta chose was a black one standing straight and looking directly at him from a somewhat distant position.
It was not easily frightened, vigilant yet not expressing hostility rashly.
Vesta liked its calm and composed nature.
“Be careful. Because it was raised freely, it is like a wild horse.”
All the horses belonged to the Khan, a fact one could tell from the Khan’s seal branded on their thighs.
Yet the Khan had not tamed all of them.
Since she had a favorite horse she enjoyed riding, there was no need to exert the effort.
Therefore, horses raised running freely on the steppe still retained their wild nature.
Horses raised on treats given by children or kind-hearted elves were relatively obedient to people.
But those raised on nothing but wild grass their whole lives did not know proper manners toward humans.
When Vesta approached with a lasso, the black horse understood his intention.
It immediately turned and ran. It began circling the fence widely.
“How long will it take?”
“……”
—It will take a long time, at least.
Ahor did not answer, but Bia thought so.
As long as the horse did not tire, Vesta could do nothing.
Lassoing a horse was already no easy task.
“……!”
Finally, everyone’s expectation was shattered.
—Except Vesta’s.
He threw the lasso and caught the horse.
“Oh ho.”
Perhaps he had experience throwing lassos. The start was quite smooth.
“Well, this is the beginning.”
Not yet. It was only the first step.
Bia and Ahor had known this.
The horse pulled the lasso with enormous strength, and the relatively light Vesta was dragged helplessly.
Yet Vesta’s eyes were not filled with fear.
Sharp and clear, he was watching the situation closely.
“Ahor, you need to prepare a bit for the reins.”
“Perhaps.”
When the horse slowed and stopped, Vesta would place a bit in its mouth behind the teeth.
Then, mounting its back and enduring the bucking, that would be taming it.
But Vesta, who was focused on subduing the horse, had not even thought of the reins.
Soon, that would mean he would not succeed.
The horse close to the fence. Vesta stamped on the ground.
“Oh.”
Vesta, still holding the lasso tight, ran along the top of the fence. He threw the pre-tied loop over the fence post.
The string tightened taut.
Hiiiiiiiiing—
The fence post shook violently from the impact.
“What a strong one.”
“…Yes.”
Even though he pulled the rope roughly, the string only tightened; it did not advance.
And Vesta did not miss the moment.
He took advantage of the instant the string was pulled straight tight—
and, mimicking a circus trick, stepped on the rope and moved, finally mounting the horse’s back.
At that moment, the horse must have felt an unfamiliar sensation. Since it had once run boldly across the steppe, that feeling was close to humiliation.
The black horse reared on two legs and rose. Vesta clung to the horse’s neck.
Hiiiiiiiiing—!
Bang. Using the strength of the strong downward slam, the fence post tilted.
The loosely hanging loop slipped off.
Now Vesta had no lasso, no bit, no reins, no saddle.
From now on, it was an reckless challenge.
Bia said.
“It does not look like a fair match?”
Since neither side had an advantage, it was truly a match, was it not?
“Even with orcs, they do not tame horses like that. Stubborn as a mule.”
Recklessness? Courage?
“…If that was an objective judgment?”
“Hmm.”
The contest between the two men was fierce. The relatively light body of Vesta floated upward.
Yet because it was intense, it could not last long.
Vesta grabbed the horse’s ears, and the exhausted horse could not resist.
Finally, the horse lowered its head first. Vesta wiped the sweat from his brow and stroked the horse’s neck.
Vesta, not knowing how he himself felt, turned to look at Ahor and Bia.
“I am not a common Empire boy.”
“The Khan has caught a rather good son-in-law.”
With those words, Bia clapped her hands.