MADDIE SPENT ANOTHER TWO HOURS GETTING ACQUAINTED with her new horse.
Bob took her through some of the basic commands that Ranger horses were trained to respond to—how to change gait on the rider’s signal, how to press harder into the ground on each pace so that a tracker following the Ranger might not realize that his quarry had dismounted and the horse was now riderless. Plus there were basic movements that could come in useful in combat—sidestepping and backing up, rearing onto the hind legs, pirouetting in place, lashing out at an enemy with the front hooves and kicking back with both rear legs.
All Ranger horses came ready trained in these basic maneuvers—and a lot more besides. Maddie delighted in Bumper’s instant response to the hand, knee and foot signals that Young Bob taught her. It was almost as if all she had to do was think about the movement she wanted and Bumper responded before the thought was fully formed.
She continued to be amazed at his lightness of step. It was a constant surprise to see how quickly he moved, how rapidly he changed direction, and how he could accelerate from a standing start to a full gallop almost instantaneously.
Sundancer was a fine horse, there was no doubt about that. But Bumper seemed to be an extension of her own personality. He knew what she wanted of him, and did it, quickly and smoothly.
Maddie and Bumper ranged across the fields and through the woods, accompanied by Young Bob on a retired Ranger horse. Eventually, Bob decreed that she had learned enough for one morning and they rode back,
cantering in that steady, loping stride until they were half a kilometer away.
Then, at Bob’s signal, Maddie gave Bumper his head and streaked away from him, her cloak and long hair streaming out in the wind behind her.
Going to have to cut that hair, she thought, then gave herself over to the sheer exhilaration of Bumper’s speed and power and surefootedness.
She reined in as they drew closer to the cabin. She was surprised to see Tug standing in the saddling paddock while Will rode bareback on an old gray horse, moving at a gentle canter around the field adjoining the saddling paddock. He saw her coming and waved, heading his mount toward her.
Bumper whinnied a greeting and the old gray responded. As they drew closer, she could see that the hairs around his muzzle were white. But there was something vaguely familiar about him, she thought.
“Who’s that?” she asked, as she reined in beside Will. He gave a faint smile and leaned forward to run his fingers through the horse’s shaggy mane, tugging it affectionately.
“An old friend,” he said. “Named Bellerophon. I like to see him whenever I’m out this way. But it’s been a while. Haven’t seen him since . . .”
The words faded and so did his smile. Instinctively, Maddie knew that he had been about to say since Alyss died. She covered up the awkward lull in the conversation.
“He looks somehow . . . familiar,” she said.
Will nodded and pointed to where Tug was standing in the saddling yard.
“He looks like Tug,” he said, and she nodded, seeing the resemblance now that he mentioned it. This horse was older, and his gray hair was white around the muzzle. But his whole conformation was the same. And he stood the same way, holding his head at a slight angle while he listened to them, just as she’d noticed Tug doing.
“He was my first Ranger horse,” Will continued. “In fact, he was my first horse. I didn’t have a wealthy mum and dad—and I didn’t have a smart Arridan to ride on.”
Will tried the gibe as an experiment, to see if the reference to her parents, and the associated fact that they had disowned her, would produce an angry reaction. He was pleased to see that she smiled in return.
Interesting, he thought. Perhaps she meant what she said to Young Bob.
Perhaps she is starting to enjoy all this.
“So how long ago was that?” Maddie asked.
Will shook his head. “Longer than I care to remember. But I recall I was
just as excited about him as you seem to be about young Bumper here.”
Bumper snorted and shook his mane at the mention of his name. Maddie leaned forward and patted his neck.
“He really is remarkable,” she said. “You have no idea.”
“I’m sure I don’t,” Will replied gravely.
Just then Young Bob cantered slowly up to join them. His face split in that now familiar smile as he eyed Will on Bellerophon’s back.
“How does he feel?” he asked.
Will looked down at the horse, leaning a little in the saddle to see the traces of the cruel scar that marked his right shoulder.
“Like I’ve never been away,” he admitted.
Young Bob chuckled. He’d grown up in the service of the Rangers and their horses, and he always enjoyed seeing them reunited. “He’s still got quite a turn of speed on him, hasn’t he?”
Will shook his head. “I didn’t want to push him too hard,” he said. “I didn’t want him straining anything or pulling any muscles.”
“Aaah, not that one,” the horse trainer said. “He’d run at the drop of a hat, he would. And he’d show some of these younger ones his heels while he was at it.”
At which statement, both Bumper and Tug raised their heads and snorted and stamped a protest. Bellerophon looked from one to the other. Maddie could have sworn that he sniggered, if a horse could ever be said to do so.
They brushed and watered the horses, then had lunch with Young Bob.
Will had brought fresh, crusty bread and sharp cheese, and several thick slices of ham. And Bob had crisp fresh lettuces and radishes from his small vegetable plot. Bob and Will drank coffee, sweetening it with large spoonfuls of honey. Maddie, as was her custom, drank milk.
Young Bob shook his head as he watched her.
“Don’t know as I’ve heard of a Ranger who didn’t drink coffee,” he said doubtfully.
Will shrugged. He was almost resigned to Maddie’s dislike of the traditional Ranger brew by now.
“New times, Bob,” he said. “I suppose we have to move with them.”
“Not me. Tradition is tradition, I say. Enough change that you’ve got a female apprentice, without her not drinking coffee. It’s too much change, too quick.”
“Excuse me,” said Maddie, “do you have to discuss me and my drinking
habits while I’m sitting right here?”
The two men regarded her for several seconds. Then they looked at each other and replied in unison.
“Yes.”
Maddie rolled her eyes and reached for the tumbler of milk. She took a deep draft of the fresh, cool liquid.
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” she told Will.
“Nor do I want to,” he replied.
When they finished the meal, Will and Maddie cleared the table and washed the platters and knives they had been using. While they were doing so, Young Bob excused himself and went outside. He’d gone silent toward the end of the meal and Maddie looked curiously at Will.
“He’s saying good-bye to Bumper,” he told her. “Bob gets very attached to his horses. Sometimes I believe that he thinks they’re only on loan to us. In a way, I suppose they are,” he added.
She moved to the window and glanced out. The little bowlegged man was standing by Bumper, his face almost touching the horse’s. She could see his lips moving but she couldn’t make out the words. Instinctively, she began to move toward the door, but Will stopped her.
“Leave them,” he said. “You’ll embarrass both of them if they see you’re watching.”
She nodded, realizing he was right, and moved back to the kitchen table.
Will had washed the plates, and she took a small towel and began to dry them, stacking them when she had done so. A few minutes later, Bob reentered the cabin, his smile back in place.
“Just a few last-minute instructions for the boy,” he said. “Wanted to make sure he wouldn’t buck you off again—less’n you deserve it.”
They made their farewells to Young Bob, then went out to where their horses were waiting. They mounted and rode out, with Maddie leading Sundancer on a light halter. The Arridan seemed content to follow behind them. He didn’t seem concerned that he had been replaced in Maddie’s affections by the shaggy little black-and-white-patched horse. But then, he and Maddie never had the close relationship that had already developed between her and Bumper. She chattered happily as they rode, extolling her new horse’s many virtues.
For the most part, Will responded with monosyllabic grunts, but she seemed not to notice his lack of enthusiasm for the subject of her horse and
“He’s so light on his feet!” she gushed. “You’d swear they barely touch the ground when he’s galloping. And as for his speed! Well, I’ve never seen a horse run as fast as he can. He really is quite incredible! One time, we came upon a ditch before I realized it was there and he simply gathered himself and seemed to fly over it! Honestly, it was like flying. One minute we were galloping, the next we were soaring over this ditch.”
Tug turned his head to look at Will. Will shrugged. Tug broke wind. But Maddie didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she didn’t understand that Tug intended the rude noise as a judgmental comment.
“And then Bob showed me how I could get him to pace harder, so that a tracker couldn’t see if I’d dismounted. Did you know they could do that?”
“I seem to recall hearing it many years ago,” Will replied dryly. He sensed Tug was about to make another unpleasant noise and poked him sharply with his hand to stop him. Tug shook his mane.
“Yes, well, they can do it. And he showed me so many of his other tricks and little ways. Bumper really is quite amazing!”
Finest horse that ever lived.
Will squeezed Tug gently with his thighs to let him know he heard. He thought Maddie might feel it was odd if he started having a conversation with his horse. Which was what made her next question all the more remarkable.
“Will,” she began, “can I ask you a question?”
“You just did,” he replied, and felt an instant pang of nostalgia. How many times had that same exchange taken place between himself and Halt, he wondered? He was pleased to see that Maddie was just as thrown out of her stride by that reply as he used to be.
“What? Oh . . . er. Yes, I suppose I did. But anyway, can I ask you another . . .” She stopped herself in time as she realized she was leaving herself open to the same reply. She paused, then said, choosing her words deliberately, “I’d like to ask a question if you don’t mind.”
Will nodded assent. “Go right ahead.”
“Well, it’s just . . . I mean . . . this may sound silly, I suppose . . .”
“Wouldn’t be too surprised by that.”
She glared at him. She desperately wanted to ask her question but was fearful that she might make herself look foolish. Will gestured for her to continue. She took a deep breath.
“I mean . . . do you ever get the feeling that your horse is talking to you?”
That caused Will to sit up straight in the saddle. He’d never discussed the communication he experienced with Tug. He’d long suspected that Halt and Abelard had a similar bond. But apparently, Maddie had felt it already with Bumper.
Perhaps we were right in selecting her for the Corps, he thought. Aloud, he replied: “A horse? Talking? Are you serious?”
Maddie went very red in the face and looked away hurriedly.
“No. No. Just a silly notion, I suppose. Forget I mentioned it.”
He nodded. But he didn’t forget it. The comment stayed with him long into that night.
