Chapter 4 The Boy in the Stable
The little maid, Rose O'Hara, has now completely become James' follower and sycophant. Every day in class, she can be heard exclaiming "Master James is great!", "Master is amazing!" and other words.
Mr. Daniel is also more and more relieved about James' homework, but today, although James has consistently and perfectly completed the homework and questions assigned by himself, he always looks absent-minded.
"Okay, James, let's leave get out of class early today. There is no need to worry about arithmetic and English at your current level. Go and play for a long time. You have really worked hard in the past few months, so I will treat it as a reward for you. Let it go." Half a day off!"
O'Hara cheered excitedly on the side, and praised Mr. Daniel again. This villain is destined to be troublesome in the future. James still thanked Daniel politely and walked out of the room. He does need some time to think and deal with some issues.
"What is Victor doing recently?" He asked O'Hara beside him as he went downstairs.
"It should be the same as before. In the morning, I will start tidying up the garden and lawn, and in the afternoon I will go to the stable to do things." The little maid muttered while wagging her fingers. "Victor's father is really too much. Let his son do all the work of the gardener, and sleep at home drunk every day. Master James, we haven't gone to visit Victor for a long time. Let's go and see him in the afternoon Okay?" She begged, shaking James' arm.
"Okay, go to the stable in the afternoon to find Victor." O'Hara was stunned for a moment, never expecting that the young master, who has always been reticent recently, agreed so neatly, and couldn't help but smile, and followed happily. James desperately needs to talk to Victor right now, to have a good chat with the half-brother about their "father."
Howlett Manor has the most two things, horses and guns. In colonial areas, whether it was the early wars with the natives, the struggle between Britain and France for territorial power, or the current conflicts between various manor owners competing for pastoral areas, force always came first.
This is a bit like a certain degree of separatism, and the governor and government of the colony are also happy to deepen their local rule in this way. Although the empire on which the sun never sets is powerful, its land and population are limited, and the country cannot deploy enough force to maintain stability on every piece of colonial land.
So all people or forces loyal to the imperial family can recruit troops and buy horses on their own, and enclose land to become king. All that needs to be done is to pay the taxes that should be paid. As for the existence of the government and the meaning of the law, it is not so important. There used to be a very famous decree of the British royal family that as long as the treasure is dedicated to the queen, even pirates can be granted the title of nobility.
There are two stables in the manor. The one on the east occupies a huge area, which can basically be called a horse farm. It covers an area of more than 10,000 square meters. There are more than 200 healthy horses, and more than 30 workers take care of them day and night.
Mr. Howlett can mobilize a hundred western knights with guns and horses at any time, which is also the confidence of being the largest manor owner in the Midwest. In this day and age, such an estate is largely a military base.
The other stable is much smaller, with only a dozen horses, next to the manor. These horses are good horses that Mr. Howlett likes very much. Except for the Howlett family riding themselves, they are usually only used as studs for breeding. The head height of each horse is more than 1.8 meters, the coat color is shiny, and the spirit is hale and hearty. Victor Logan is working here.
"Victor, Victor Logan!" Before entering the stable, O'Hara started calling Victor's name. There are enough ice cubes in this luxury stable, and the temperature is still cool. Victor Logan, wearing a sleeveless waistcoat, was grooming a tall black shiny horse with a soft brush.
This is a stallion, and also the best stallion in the manor. Its four hooves are far stronger than ordinary horses, and its mane is thick and slender. Look, they are all extremely handsome. Its name was Black Mountain, and it was Mr. Howlett's favorite.
Victor raised his head slightly, glanced at James and O'Hara who came in, and said hello.
James looked at Victor carefully, and didn't say any greetings, but O'Hara jumped up and down, rubbed Montenegro's body, and chirped and asked Victor.
And the more he looked at it, the more surprised he was. Victor was only fifteen or sixteen years old this year. He not only had the height of an adult, but also had an extremely wide frame. With a beard, he already looked like an adult man.
In the eyes of this former martial arts master, this body surpasses all the categories expressed by the gifted martial arts conditions. What's even more strange is that James has always heard that Black Mountain is the best and most fierce stallion, and few people can get close to it except Mr. Howlett. But in front of Victor, he is very submissive. James can vaguely smell a faint aura lingering on Victor from the sensitive perception inherited from his previous life. The butcher of the killing camp is more like the taste of some kind of high-ranking predator.
"I haven't seen you for a while, is it possible that you are sick again? Miss James." Victor spoke first, but the work in hand did not stop.
James didn't pay attention to his sarcasm, walked over to look at Montenegro, and leaned over to caress its corner of the mouth. Victor subconsciously went up to stop James, but Montenegro did not resist as imagined, and obediently lowered his head, rubbing against James' little hand.
Victor looked at him strangely, and remained silent for a while.
"O'Hara, look at that pony over there." James pointed to a pure white pony inside, and O'Hara's eyes turned pink immediately, and he ran over, holding the pony's neck and touching it again and again. relative. Victor looked at James more and more differently.
"Do you do so much work every day? I heard that you basically do Mr. Logan's work." James asked seemingly casually.
"Not everyone's surname is Howlett, what do you eat if you don't work." Victor's words were so natural, without dissatisfaction or complaints.
He paused for a moment, and then said: "That person knows how to drink every night, and has been sleeping soundly during the day. I won't do it, and wait for Mr. Howlett to drive us away?" James keenly noticed Vivian When Kedo mentioned "that person", the masseter muscles on his cheeks swelled up.
"Then, is he treating you well?" James asked a little directly, and he even regretted that he shouldn't be in such a hurry. Surprisingly, Victor was not angry, but said with some complacency and mockingly: "Hmph, he doesn't feel much pain when he hits me now, and he can't even leave any scars. use!"
"So, how about keeping him away from you?"
This sentence seemed to startle the little beast, Victor stared at James: "What do you mean?"
"It's nothing, just ask casually, since you hate him so much, you probably don't want to stay with him."
Victor sneered, and looked away, "I'll leave by myself when I grow up."
O'Hara came over with the cute white pony at this moment, and shouted at James, "James, Master James, can I name it White Dove?"
"It's a horse, why is it called a white dove?"
The little maid shouted in disbelief: "No, the white dove is very cute, like a lady, please, Master James!"
"It's up to you, anyway, no one cares what you want to call it." James said helplessly. O'Hara hugged the pigeon contentedly, and begged Victor to carry her up and ride for a while. There were a few dull and quick footsteps approaching the door of the stable, and Mr. Howlett pushed the door open and entered. As an old man in his sixties, in this era when the average life expectancy is not high, it is already "rare in ancient times", and it is even rarer to be as capable and agile as Mr. Howlett. You can imagine how strong and energetic he was when he was young.
Mr. Howlett, who saw his little grandson at a glance, shook his gray beard and said loudly: "There are two little guys who skipped class!"
(end of this chapter)