The Terrible Business with the Loch Ness monster

3. On The Road

Despite the days of canter, Requiem felt as full of energy as ever. His long strides had no trouble keeping up with the Guardian's horses, and she even had to rain him back to prevent him from running away from them. From the moment she'd first seen him she had marvelled about him, his beauty and his strength, and will that simply couldn't be broken, no matter how people tried. It had truly pained her to think that she might have ruined him on the way Edinburgh.

They kept the speed through the city, and for a couple of miles outside it, before they went down to a walk. Non of the horses seemed especially bothered by the long run, and out of the riders, Heather was the only one out of breath. If walking had been a challenge, riding was pure torture, and she felt blessed that Requiem at least had a soft step.

"it's a vicious beast, that one!" Miss Valentine remarked and pointed at Requiem, who were pinning his ears at her horse, who barely seemed to notice him.

"no, he's not vicious!" Heather said, and patted the angry horse on the neck. For a moment, his ears tipped forward, before going back to being smeared to his head.

"the blasted thing bit me! I was putting on his bridle, and then he bit me!" she exclaimed, and held out her arm to show. The shirtfabric was soaked with blood, and still looked wet. Heather gasped.

"how terrible! I cannot believe he would do that! Do you need us to stop to take care of it?" Heather could only imagine how something that bled to much must hurt. But Miss Valentine laughed.

"don't be silly. I got myself an healingspell before we departed. I'm fine." She shrugged of all Heathers concern easily. "but I tell you, that one has some actual bloodlust"

"you wouldn't happen to have a spell that cures sore muscles, do you?" Heather was only half joking about it.

"we do, but it will kill ye'." Miss Valentine said in a very matter-of-fact tone. "the spells aren't meant for regular witches."

"I'm not a Witch!" Heather protested. "my parents adopted me, I'm just as human as the next one!"

"right, I forgot that witches are barren." Heather blushed, that was hardly the stuff of civilized conversation! But Miss Valentine didn't seem bothered, and none of her companions seemed like her bluntness was anything out of the ordinary. Heather just couldn't wrap her head around Miss Valentine. Perhaps things were different in Scotland, but everywhere else, she would have been met with scorn for the way she behaved and for the matter of how she dressed, she would have been seen as nothing more than a prostitute on the streets of Winchester, and a cheep one at that, showing of so much legs. Sitting on a horse just made that worst. Heathers cheeks grew a deeper red.

"what are ye' blushing about now?" Miss Valentine asked, and raised one of her eyebrows. "Heather, wasn't it?"

"Miss Valentine, I really don't think..." Heather tried, but was shut down immediately.

"oh, don't ye' 'Miss Valentine' me" Miss Valentine said impatiently. "my name is Victoria, and ye' might as well use it. And ye' call those two Alex and Angus, no Mr here and there, we Guarians just don't do that." Heather didn't know what to say. She had been brought up to take etiquette seriously, and thought it a very bad thing to ever break any of the rules of society.

"if we all tipped around, being all polite, we wouldn't get anywhere. Using our firstnames is just one of the things we insist on." Mr Valentine said on Heather's other side.

"does the other tings involve using really short skirts?" Heather asked before she could help herself. Miss Valentine gave a sudden laugh.

"ye' seem to take your fair amount of interests in my skirts." She remarked, and shot Heather a very unladylike grin. "and for the record, this is a kilt, not a skirt. We are strict about that here."