“He’s not saddled, Miss.”
“It won’t take long, though? I’ll help if you tell me what to do.” I bat my eyes a few times. There was no way I could ride a horse with no saddle. I can barely accomplish it with one.
The boy’s forehead wrinkles.
“Please. It’s the only time I have. He doesn’t like it on any other night.”
“The new moon?” As if he needs me to clarify. I nod. “Fine. But be quick. I’m late already.” He looks a few years younger than me, and I wonder what Order he is part of.
He walks into a room next to one of the stalls and starts bringing out all the straps of leather and other items to get Nettle ready.
He opens the door, and Nettle gently moves to accommodate the boy, as if he knows and is cooperating.
Only a few minutes later, his saddle is fitted, and the boy hands me the reins.
“You do know how to ride him?”
“Of course.” It isn’t a lie. I do know. I’m just not very good at it. “I’m fine. Thank you. If I can offer a favour in return one day, it’s yours.”
My toe finds the stirrup, and I haul myself up onto Nettle, regretting it immediately, as pain screams from my ribs and shoulder.
But Nettle stays settled, aiding my ungainly mount. He was never like this on the journey here, and somehow, I know that I won’t have any of the frustrations and problems I did all those weeks ago.
“Go,” I whisper, and Nettle obeys.
He navigates out of the stables and heads down, right towards the bridge.
Panic seizes me, but then I remember that they won’t be able to stop me, not tonight. There is no power, although as we get closer, they can easily stand and block our path.
The urge to flee crashes over me as Nettle walks on towards the crossing, but that would be stupid. I have no supplies and don’t know the way. But it’s there. That small tug to run, to see Lyle again and demand she tell me everything, and truthfully, this time. Did she know? Did she lie about them? Were my parents Kirrian, and are they even alive? My mind dances through questions and arrives at one solid thought.
“I need you to go a little faster because I don’t want to get caught,” I say to Nettle and brush my heels against his flank.
He jumps into action, maybe a little too energetically, but I hold on as he trots and then transitions into a canter as we head for the bridge.
There are more guards tonight, and I wonder if it’s because of the lack of magic and the need to keep the peace. I ignore their shouts to stop, and keep going, trusting that Nettle will too, and with only feet to spare, they jump out of the way as they realise we aren’t stopping.
“Good boy, keep going. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
He clears the bridge as he breaks into a gallop, galvanised by the sight of all the space, which calls to him.
I tense, hoping my body will keep me in the saddle as Nettle races towards the dark. The edge of the forest is on one side of us, the stone wall of The Court on the other.
The wind whips at the stray strands of my hair, fluttering behind me as we approach the edge of the training rings, and still, we don’t stop.
With any luck, we can just keep going.
thirty-two
. . .
Aten
She asked for time. I can give her that.
I’ll give her space. Reluctantly.
Guilt wraps its ugly talons around my chest, and I pick up the cup of ale and take another sip like it can keep the pain at bay.
