Rift (15 page)

She sensed when Barrow moved beside her but kept her gaze on Caber. A low sound came from Barrow’s throat, followed by words:

“I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Is something wrong?” Ember looked at him, and Caber snorted.

Barrow shook his head, smiling at the horse. “Don’t worry, boy, I’m not going to take her from you.”

He looked at Ember. “How much experience do you have with horses?”

Though she briefly considered lying, Ember said, “Very little.”

“I thought as much.” He reached out to touch Caber’s bowed neck. Ember winced at his easy dismissal of her skills as a horseman. “Though I’m sure through no fault of your own.”

“My sister fears horses,” Ember said. “And my father thought it best to keep both of his daughters away from the stables.”

“Foolish that.” Barrow snorted, sounding very much like Toshach when he did so. “Horses can help a man when little else will save him.”

Caber nosed Ember’s shoulder, then decided to chew on the braid that ringed her head.

“Stop that!” Ember jerked her head back and swatted Caber’s nose. The horse snorted and backed away, but a moment later he was inching back toward her, head bowed in apology again.

“Good,” Barrow said, watching as she let the horse make his apology and then began to pet him again. “You’ll have to be firm with him. Caber’s young and a stallion. He doesn’t have a rider because his temper makes him difficult to handle. And he’s thrown not a few young men who thought themselves better riders than they were. If you don’t pay attention, he’ll have you halfway to England before you tug on the reins.”

Ember’s hands dropped from the horse’s neck and Caber whinnied in protest.

“You’re giving me a stallion?” she asked. Caber was beautiful and she was drawn to the horse, but it seemed foolish to pick a horse beyond her skill.

“I’m not giving you anything. The horse chooses its rider,” Barrow said. “Any other way and you’ll find an ill fit. Caber wishes to serve you. He’s a good horse—but very spirited.”

“He’s incredible,” Ember said. “I’m just not certain I can—”

“You’ll learn.” Barrow cut her off and moved to open the stall door. “Starting now.”

TEN

EMBER HAD TO CHIDE CABER
several times as she led the stallion from the stable. Eager to be free of his stall, Caber was skittish, tossing his head and nearly treading on her heels. Barrow kept a close eye on the way she interacted with the horse, never interfering, but Ember sensed that he was wary of her losing control of the large animal and ready to jump in should she need his aid. Ember was determined not to let that happen.

They encountered Ian in the paddock. The young apprentice gave a low whistle when he saw Ember leading Caber but offered no further comment.

Barrow went back for Toshach, reappearing a few minutes later with the glossy black steed. The stallion danced from side to side like a roiling thundercloud ready to burst into storm.

Ember watched the two horses snort and paw at the earth, impatient to be on their way. They were an exquisite pair: Caber bright as the sunrise, Toshach darker than the night sky. Yet the longer she looked, Ember realized the horses weren’t what she’d expected.

Ian noticed her frown. “Is something wrong, my lady?”

Though she didn’t mean for her words to be critical, Ember still felt nervous when she said, “They aren’t warhorses.”

“I assure you they do not fail in combat.” The furrow in Ian’s brow made Ember regret speaking up.

“She only means they aren’t the elephants her father uses in tournaments,” Barrow told Ian.

Ember laughed, thinking of how her father would react to having his prize steeds described as elephants, and quickly nodded. “They’re more beautiful than any horses I’ve laid eyes on.”

Her gaze traveled over the sleek, gleaming bodies of the stallions. Their curving necks stretched perfectly into strong backs and hard flanks. Their firm, slender legs tapered to almost delicate-looking ankles. The horses struck her as simply too lovely, too graceful for war.

Taking full advantage of her admiration, Caber tossed his proud head and whinnied.

“Careful, Ember. That horse already thinks well enough of himself as it is.”

She smiled, patting Caber’s neck.

“We don’t fight in heavy armor,” Barrow continued. “And our tasks require speed and agility over strength. These coursers better serve our purpose than a destrier could.”

Ian took hold of Toshach while Barrow retrieved the horses’ tack. Despite his feisty mood, Ember was managing Caber rather well. Her pleasure at that small triumph drained away when she encountered the next challenge. Abashed, she admitted to Barrow that she had no idea how to prepare the horse for her first ride.

Ian offered to saddle and bridle Caber, but Barrow waved him away.

“This horse is your responsibility,” the knight told her. “There will be no one to help you when we’re in the field.”

Barrow was patient as he taught her how to properly tack up the stallion. He tested the girth, reminding her that it would loosen when bearing her weight. When she’d finished saddling the horse, Barrow made her take the equipment off and start over again: this time without his instruction. Caber craned his neck to watch them, his ears flicking in curiosity as his saddle was placed on his back only to be removed and placed again. When she’d gone through the process five times and was cursing her teacher under her breath, Barrow pronounced her ready for an actual ride. He turned around only to find that Ian had saddled Toshach during the lesson.

“He would have run off without you if I hadn’t kept him busy.” Ian handed Barrow the reins.

Ember hoisted herself into the saddle, settling on Caber’s back. The stallion began to move immediately, sidestepping and tossing his head.

“Don’t let him forget you’re there,” Barrow said. “And keep him in check. He’ll bolt right out from under you if you let him.”

Ember nodded, gritting her teeth as she shortened her reins. She could feel the stallion’s power, churning like white water beneath her.

“Are you ready?” Barrow was astride Toshach. The black stallion pranced incessantly, lifting his front legs as though he wanted to rear.

“Yes.” Though her heart was flying, Ember’s smile stretched wide. Caber’s excitement, his energy, seemed to flow into her very limbs.

Barrow returned her smile. In the quick flash of teeth Ember understood that it wasn’t just the horses that longed to race from Tearmunn. On the back of his steed Barrow moved with supreme grace. Even with Toshach’s fitful prancing, horse and rider flowed together. With a motion she could barely detect, Barrow started Toshach forward at a trot. Caber kept pace beside the other stallion while Ember maintained a firm grasp on the reins. Barrow was holding Toshach back as well. Both horses wanted to run.

“Hold up!” The call came from near the barracks. Barrow reined Toshach with a sign, wheeling the horse around. With a snort of protest, Caber relented as Ember turned him.

Alistair waved and Kael shouted, “Why did you put the poor girl on that demon? Are you trying to kill her?”

Barrow shook his head. “Ignore him. He was kicked and had a broken rib as a result, but it was his own foolishness, not Caber, that led to the kicking.”

Ember half smiled, knowing Caber could have bitten someone’s finger off and she’d still feel lucky to ride him.

“We thought you two might be interested in seeing some more action,” Kael said. “The real kind.”

“There’s a problem in Cornwall,” Alistair said. “We’re leaving now.”

Ember tightened her grip on the reins. “When will you return?” As much as she was adjusting quickly to her new home, the thought of the only familiar face being long absent unnerved her.

Kael shrugged. “Depends on what we’re dealing with. But if all goes well, before dinner.”

Ember stared at him. She must have heard wrong—a journey to Cornwall would take days, not hours.

“Thanks for the offer,” Barrow said. “But she’s not ready.”

Ember winced at his curt answer.

“That’s not what the sisters say,” Kael told him. “They said she’s a natural. They were watching the trial.”

“She has talent,” Barrow replied. “But we’ll be in the field soon enough. Today we’ll ride.”

“You and your horses.” Kael snorted. He turned falsely mournful eyes on Alistair. “I’m afraid we’ve been cruelly rebuffed.”

“And my heart aches because of it.” Alistair winked at Ember.

“Save your laments for the south.” Barrow was already turning Toshach around. “At least Cornwall will be warm.”

Alistair held her gaze for a moment longer. “I’ll see you tonight, Ember.”

“But you’re going to Cornwall,” she said, and then felt a bit dizzy when she remembered Morag’s description of the magic wielded by Conatus’s clerics. Would Alistair and Kael truly be in Cornwall and return in the same day?

“And I’m sorry you’re not coming,” he said. “Barrow’s right. The weather will be much more pleasant in the south.”

“Ember!” She turned in the saddle to see Barrow waiting for her, Toshach dancing beneath him.

When she looked back, Alistair was walking away, waving to her. She lifted her hand briefly before reining Caber in the opposite direction.

Her mind was more agitated than Caber, but Barrow wasn’t in a talking mood. As soon as she reached him, he set out at a faster pace. The swift trot took them across the courtyard and out of Tearmunn’s gates. The horses easily mastered the steep path from the keep into Glen Shiel. Ember could feel the tension in Caber’s muscles. The quick, steady pace of their trot was irritating him.

“When we hit the valley floor, we’ll follow the river to Loch Duich,” Barrow said. “They’ll want to open up, but I’m keeping it to a canter for now. Don’t give Caber his head.”

Ember nodded and Barrow urged Toshach forward. The black stallion leapt ahead, shaking the reins when Barrow kept him from reaching a full gallop. Caber rolled into a canter, keeping close to Toshach. Ember felt Caber champing at the bit, wanting to get control away from her. His ears were up, turned toward her, and she knew the horse was testing her, wondering if his rider matched him in cleverness and skill. She kept a firm hold on the reins, letting her body flow with the easy rocking of Caber’s gait. The stallion snorted a few times, shaking his head, rolling his eyes back, but soon he seemed to settle into contentment as they loped alongside the river. Barrow turned to look at her, smiling when he saw her keeping pace just behind Toshach. He gave Toshach a bit more rein and the dark stallion surged ahead, the canter giving way to a gallop.

Caber tried to burst into a flat run, but Ember held him back. Though he snorted and tugged at the reins, she forced him to speed up gradually. Only when she was sure he was acting with her assent did Ember free the stallion to fly after Toshach.

Barrow glanced back again and Ember offered him a thin smile. It wasn’t only her mount testing her; her teacher was too. She leaned forward, letting Caber race ahead to close the distance between them. When Caber was neck and neck with Toshach, eager to leap ahead, Ember reined him in, working to keep perfect pace, stride for stride with Barrow’s mount.

They rode that way for half an hour. Barrow would make subtle changes in speed followed by sudden shifts in their pace. Each time Ember adjusted accordingly, never letting Barrow catch her off guard. She was becoming appreciative of Caber’s sensibilities. He was sensitive to her mood; his ears were always turned toward her, waiting for a whispered word of encouragement, a click of her tongue urging speed. And she was constantly aware of him. She understood when he wanted to run, the difference between a toss of the head that was frustrated and one that was joyful. She knew to stroke his neck to praise him and the firm tone needed to hold his attention.

When they reached the shores of Loch Duich, Barrow reined Toshach in, bringing them to a trot and then to a walk. Having had their run, the horses were happy enough to take up an easy pace along the lake.

“It seems fighting isn’t the only thing you have a natural talent for,” Barrow said.

“Thank you.” Ember spoke briefly, not wanting to reveal how breathless she was. The ride had been exhilarating, but also hard work. The muscles in her arms, back, and thighs were tight coils, hot and strained from the effort of this riding lesson. Still, proving herself to Barrow had been worth it. And the thrill of riding itself was something she never could have anticipated.

Ember leaned over, resting her cheek against Caber’s mane.

“You’re a good match.” Barrow paused to let the horses drink from the lake.

Ember loosened the reins so Caber could reach the water. “We are.” She patted his neck, finding it damp from the run.

The sky above was heavy with clouds. Streams of mist reached down, finger-like, to grasp the hillsides, which had just begun to glow with the green of spring.

“The loch borders Tearmunn to the west and north. The hills of the glen guard us from the east and south. You’ll have passed the village on your journey to the keep,” Barrow said.

“I couldn’t see anything.” Ember’s face scrunched up at the memory. “I was with my mother and sister in the carriage.”