THEY SADDLED THE HORSES IN THE STABLE. THEN WILL TOOK down a large canvas roll hanging on the wall and tied it in place behind his saddle. There was another, similar roll hanging next to the first and he gestured for Maddie to take it.
“Tie it behind your saddle,” he said.
She unhooked it and felt the weight, looking at it curiously. “What is it?”
“Camping gear. Basically a waterproof canvas that forms a one-man tent, and a blanket for sleeping. Plus a few other odds and ends.”
She smiled cheekily. “I thought we’d just roll ourselves into our cloaks and sleep under a bush,” she said. Will tested Tug’s girth strap—the little horse was fond of taking a deep breath when the cinch was being tightened, then letting it out again once it was done so that the strap became loose.
“You can do that if you like,” Will said. “I prefer to stay warm and dry.
And it looks like rain.”
She tied the canvas roll in place. While she was doing so, Will led Tug to the front of the cabin, went inside and put together a sack of provisions—
bread, cheese, apples, dried beef and a few vegetables. If they wanted fresh meat, he’d have Maddie get some with her sling, he thought. At the last, he placed his standard pack of spices, seasonings and cooking ingredients in the sack, then went out to join his apprentice.
There were two water skins hanging beside the pump. He gestured to them.
“You can fill them,” he said. Maddie moved to do so as he swung up into the saddle. Tug twitched his ears and looked at him inquisitively. Will shook
“Later,” he muttered.
Maddie looked up from her task, soaking her sleeve with water as she took her eye off the gushing liquid. “Did you say something?”
He shook his head. “Just clearing my throat.”
She passed him a water skin and tied one to her own saddlebow. Then she mounted as well. Sundancer pranced a few steps, ready to run. He hadn’t been out in a day or so, and he was full of energy and enthusiasm—as was his rider. Tug, in contrast, stood solid and unmoving.
“Let’s get going,” Will said. He urged Tug into a slow, easy lope. Maddie flicked Sundancer’s reins and he started forward, eager to run. But she held him back, dancing a little with his head high, so that he matched Tug’s steady pace.
“Is this as fast as we’re going to go?”
Will twisted in the saddle to look at her. Sundancer was longer in the leg than Tug, and he had to look up to meet her gaze.
“I thought so,” he replied.
Maddie snorted disdainfully. “No wonder it’s going to take all day.” He made no reply, so she added, “You know Sundancer is an Arridan thoroughbred, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Arridans are fine horses.”
“They’re fast too. I’ve heard people say they’re the fastest horses on earth.”
Tug rattled his short mane and made an impolite belching sound. For a moment, Maddie looked at the little horse in surprise. It was almost as if he were responding to her claim. Then she dismissed the idea.
“They certainly can cover ground,” Will agreed calmly. They rode on in silence for a few minutes. Sundancer continued to pull at the reins. Maddie held him back. Tug loped on steadily.
He’s like a rocking horse, Maddie thought, watching Tug’s gentle, steady back-and-forth motion. She wriggled impatiently in the saddle. She could feel Sundancer’s pent-up energy, and she longed to let him run free—to show Will how a real horse could run.
“So where’s this ford?” she asked.
Will gestured to the southeast. “We follow the high road for twenty kilometers or so. Then we take a fork leading to Pendletown. After we go through the village, we continue on until we come to the Derrylon River. The
road leads straight to the ford.” He paused, then added, “It’s all signposted.”
She nodded, noting the last statement particularly. It was almost, she thought, as if he was giving her tacit approval to go off on her own. Then she grinned at him.
“Well, I’ll be waiting for you there.”
She clapped her heels into Sundancer’s flanks, relaxing the restraining tension on his reins. Instantly, the gelding leapt forward, plunging and rearing for the first few meters, then gathering speed as he settled into his gait. His hoofs beat a rapid tattoo on the road’s surface, raising puffs of dust with each stride.
Maddie’s cloak and hair streamed out in the wind behind her, and Will heard her delighted laugh.
“He’s very fast,” Will said.
Tug turned his head and regarded him with his left eye. Not as fast as Sandstorm.
“No. Perhaps not. But there wouldn’t be much in it.”
I beat Sandstorm.
“I remember. But you only managed it in the last few meters.”
The little horse snorted disparagingly. I was foxing.
“ Of course you were.”
He felt Tug begin to pull against the reins, but held him in check.
Do you want me to catch him now?
Will shaded his eyes to look after Maddie. She and Sundancer were small figures in the distance. A cloud of dust was drifting in the air behind them.
Then they rounded a bend in the road and were hidden by the trees. The gradually settling dust was all that was left to show where they had been.
“Not yet,” Will told him. “Later.”
• • •
Maddie exulted in the rush of wind through her hair and the smooth, powerful strides of her horse. This was riding, she thought, and she urged Sundancer on to even greater speed. As she reached the first bend in the road, she turned in the saddle to look back.
Will and Tug were small figures in the distance now, plodding stolidly onward. Well, she thought, what could you expect of a shaggy little barrel like that. Over the years, she’d heard people talk of Ranger horses with a
certain degree of awe. Now that she’d seen one at close quarters, she couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about.
“And he must be one of the better ones,” she said aloud. After all, Will was one of the most senior of all the Rangers. It stood to reason that he would have one of the better horses in the Corps—if not the best.
She felt a delicious streak of rebellion stirring within her. Will was so capable, so knowledgeable, so superior to her in just about every way. He could track game where there was barely a sign to be found. He could shoot with uncanny speed and unerring accuracy. And his knife work was almost superhuman—fast and deadly accurate.
But here was something she was better at. With a sudden moment of honesty, she amended that thought. Her horse was better than Tug, she thought. But then, if she had the intelligence to select a superior horse, why shouldn’t she share in that superiority?
Sundancer would run Will’s little gray pony into the ground, she told herself. And as she had that thought, she decided that she wanted their victory to be overwhelming. It wouldn’t be enough to simply beat Tug and Will to this Derrylon ford. They would do it thoroughly, crushingly. If Will said it would take a day to reach the ford, she decided that she’d do it in half that time.
She leaned forward over Sundancer’s neck.
“Come on, boy! We’ve got a point to make.”
Sundancer’s ears went back and he tossed his head in delight. He loved to run. In fact, he lived to run. It had been bred into his bloodline for generation after generation. He lengthened his stride and accelerated.
Maddie yelled in delight. She had never felt him run so fast before! It was exhilarating and she gave herself over to the sheer, pulse-racing excitement of the ride.
• • •
Tug continued his steady, measured lope.
Dugga-dum, dugga-dum, dugga-dum went his hoofs on the hard-packed surface of the highway. From time to time, he would turn his head to look at Will. But his rider never responded to these hints. Finally, Tug decided to address the matter directly.
Tell me when you want me to start running.
“ Trust me. You’ll be the first to know.”
Dugga-dum, dugga-dum, dugga-dum.
• • •
It has to be said that, ordinarily, Maddie was not the sort of person who would allow her horse to overextend himself. Usually, she was careful to control her mount and ensure that he stayed within his own limits.
But the excitement of the ride, the exultation of the speed that she felt, and the temptation to show Will and his horse how superior Sundancer was led her into error.
They had been galloping wildly for kilometers when she felt the Arridan horse’s stride falter. Then Sundancer shook his head and plunged on. But now she realized how hard she’d been pushing him.
His flanks were streaked with foam, and his sides were heaving like bellows as he dragged in huge lungfuls of air. She became aware that he was grunting loudly with each breath, and instantly she was overcome with remorse. She reined him in, although he resisted her efforts initially. He was willing to plunge on until he dropped from exhaustion.
She drew back firmly on the reins, checking his mindless instinct to keep running, speaking softly to him, gradually increasing the pressure against the bit until he allowed her to bring him to a halt.
He stood, legs spread and breathing heavily, as she quickly dismounted, patting his neck and walking round him to make sure he was undamaged.
“You’re all right,” she told him. Thankfully, she had caught her mistake in time. She splashed some water from the water skin into her hand and held it near his muzzle. He pushed his soft nose against her hand and drank. She continued to let the water trickle into the cupped hand.
“Not too much,” she said. “Not too fast.”
He snorted gratefully. She loosened the saddle girth and took a square of old blanket from her pack, rubbing him down and speaking softly to him. It had been a near thing, she realized. If she had kept going much longer, she could well have ruined her beautiful horse.
When he was rubbed down, she led him to the side of the road and let him crop the grass for a few minutes. Mentally, she kicked herself for coming so close to disaster. It wasn’t Sundancer’s fault, she knew. The blame lay squarely with her. She was the rider. She was the one who should have
controlled him, harboring his energy and strength.
She let him rest for some minutes, then took the reins and led him back onto the road. She’d walk for a while, until he’d cooled down properly and recovered. She stepped out and he followed her meekly. She turned and watched him for a minute or two, making sure there was nothing wrong with his gait—that he hadn’t strained any muscles or ligaments in that mad, heedless gallop.
To her relief, he seemed fine. She smiled fondly, shaking her head in wonder as she thought of his amazing speed and willingness, grateful that there was no permanent harm done to him. She wondered how far behind them Will and Tug were.
“We’re probably so far ahead that we could walk the rest of the way and still beat them,” she told Sundancer. He shook his head tiredly, plodding along behind her.
Then she became conscious of a noise behind them. A regular, rhythmic noise.
Dugga-dum, dugga-dum, dugga-dum.
She whirled round. Will and Tug had rounded a bend behind them and were cantering slowly toward them, still moving at that ridiculous, constant lope. Once more she had the thought that Tug ran like a rocking horse.
Be that as it may, she thought, he was a very consistent rocking horse.
Will drew up beside her. He didn’t check Tug as they came level.
Sundancer lifted his head at the sight of the smaller horse and dragged back against the reins, but she held him in check.
“Your horse looks tired,” Will said amiably, as he began to move ahead of her.
“He’ll be fine,” she said defiantly.
He turned in the saddle to look back at her as he and Tug drew away.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. Then he faced the road ahead and called back over his shoulder, “We’ll wait for you in Pendletown.”
She glared at his back, then turned and began to tighten Sundancer’s girth again. The Arridan, spent as he was, was moving nervously, eager to set off after Tug. She placed one foot in the stirrup, then stopped.
He wasn’t ready yet. If she allowed him to run, she might injure him.
Reluctantly, she took her foot out of the stirrup and loosened the cinch again.
Then she resumed leading the horse at a walk.
At the next bend already, Will was surreptitiously watching over his
shoulder. He saw her begin to mount, then saw her come to a decision and begin walking the horse once more.
“Good girl,” he said approvingly.
How’s that? Tug, of course, was facing the road ahead and hadn’t seen Maddie’s moment of indecision.
“She won’t mistreat her horse, even if it means losing the race. We’ll make a Ranger of her yet.”
They rode on in silence for several minutes before Will spoke again.
“If only she drank coffee,” he said.
Dugga-dum, dugga-dum, dugga-dum.
