A Horse and Her Boye

Construction beginning/end

On the northern slopes of Shima Province, the sun beat down hard upon the skeleton of what would soon be a watchtower. It was bizarrely warm, unseasonably so. Sweat dripped down from Boye's forehead and caused him to squint his eyes. Levering one more heavy wooden beam into place, he all but fell backward onto a handy rock and wiped his forehead judiciously. Sure, he was desperate for work, but how was he expected to build this damnable thing alone?

Well, not entirely alone. Boye stopped himself from flinching as another heavy "thud" sounded from behind him. He turned, already certain of what he'd see, but yet unwilling to accept it regardless. Sure enough, a horse stood there. She was a magnificent mare, standing as tall as Boye at the shoulder and black as night. Fully barded, like a warhorse, and boasting a wicked-looking steel horn atop her helmeted muzzle, she would be a steed to strike fear into the hearts of any on the battlefield. And yet here she was, delivering wood. That thump earlier had, indeed, been the horse laying another heavy wooden beam down at the base of the tower.   Boye watched. The horse looked back. That beam was far too large to fit in her mouth. How else would she manipulate it? It wasn't like she could pick it up with her hooves and put it on her back to carry it here. Was she really a horse at all? Kihaku looked back and offered not an answer nor a whinny.   The distance between them seemed to lengthen. Boye felt himself on a precipice. Below him was an unknown world where a horse had been assigned as his construction partner and, worse, seemed to be better at it than he was. Behind him was firm ground; the sane realm in which horses ate grain and carried their riders around, nothing more. Boye stared. Kihaku stared. Boye blinked.   "Thanks, girl," he said, getting up to pat Kihaku on the neck. She nickered, and the tension between them faded away. So what if a horse was delivering lumber and constructing scaffolding while he wasn't looking? That just made his job easier, didn't it? And he'd still be getting paid. On his metaphorical precipice, Boye took neither a step forward nor back, but kept his feet planted just where they were.   By the time the sun had set, they'd made fantastic progress. It almost seemed ridiculous, that a mere migrant worker and an inexplicably capable horse had built the frame of a watchtower all by themselves. Yet the evidence stood right in front of them. It wasn't quite finished, not yet, but they'd have it ready by lunch tomorrow if he was any judge. "Good work, Kihaku." Where had that name come from? Why had he known to call the horse by it? Boye stroked his scraggly beard and chuckled. He'd have to convince himself into just accepting things in this curious country, it seemed.   He sat back down on his rock and Kihaku came to loiter beside him. Together, the worker and the warhorse looked down at the valley below. Cast in a beautiful orange sunset, a walking castle slowly picked its way across the land as the clocktower at Makami-jō sounded the hour. Yes, curious indeed, but Boye thought he might just be able to get used to it.