There was naught to be done. Against a foe that would see them trapped inside their own city and burned alive, there could be no peace. To stand still now was to have truly lost. To ride the changing tide, however – that brought promise of something beyond mere equivalent exchange.
"Master of Horse," Oliver said. "You and your apprentice have been of great assistance to me today. For your heroism, you will be duly rewarded. I wonder if I would ask one more favour of you, before this is all done?"
"...Name it, Your Majesty. Anyone that would set fire to a stable full of horse, in a cowardly attempt at sabotage, is no friend of ours. You'll see justice carried out to them – I trust in that."
"My horse," Oliver said. "Nelson. And the horse of my Captain Blackthorn."
"We'll find them, and get them to you, Your Majesty," the Master of Horse said, before turning to his trusted apprentice over all the other stable boys. "You know where to find them, don't you?"
