Enjolras has never picked up the habit of murmuring nothings to anyone and anything, including animals. But his mare, a fine-boned tall grey with the bemusing name of Rachat, seems to like him well enough anyway, after the first skeptical investigation.

He leads her out as well, and mounts with thoughtless ease. It's not the carelessness of a man who's spent days and years in the saddle -- he's neither cavalryman nor cowboy, just athletic, and the son of an officer and merchant with plenty of money to hire tutors.

Shall they?