Come Away

Chapter 19 - Race

The King lifts himself onto his horse's back with ease and looks at me expectantly. I move to the side of my horse and stare at the daunting stretch I'll have to make between the ground and the saddle.

"Here, my lady."

The servant boy is pointing to a little foothold hanging from the saddle. I guess I'm supposed to use this to climb up. With a deep breath I hoist my leg up and manage to get my boot into the foothold on the first try. Then I place my hands on the saddle horn and kick off the ground with my other foot, swinging my body up and onto the horse.

My horses's coat trembles and shimmers, and I surprise myself with how secure I feel so high off the ground. And on the back of an animal, no less. My green dress must have extra material between my thighs because the skirt fits comfortably around the saddle and flows around the horse's middle like a blanket. It creates a unique contrast against the horse's body of blues and purples mixed together like the midnight sky.

That's what I'll call her. Skye.

"Ready, mortal?" The King calls, already trotting out toward the pasture.

I think about moving the horse in that direction, and without me touching the reigns, Skye turns herself around and walks up to meet them. The King's horse doesn't have reigns at all, and looks like a much fiercer creature than mine. Its dark eyes roll back as it paws the ground.

"Do not move too quickly on the first ride." The King is saying. "Hold tightly to the reigns and your mare will obey your commands. Once you have established yourself as a more experienced rider, she might begin to heed your very thoughts."

He pats his horse's neck affectionately. "My stallion, Conquest, and I have grown to be one mind. But it is a practice that takes many moons."

The jab he sends with that last comment isn't so subtle. He knows I don't have "many moons." I only have three. And my life depends on me beating his odds.

I wrap the reigns in one fist and reach to stroke Skye's face with my other hand. Let's show him what we did back there. I say in my mind, hoping this horse actually hears me somehow. If we're going to beat him, you have to keep reading my thoughts.

Especially because I have no clue how to ride a horse otherwise.

Without warning, the King and his horse bolt forward into a gallop. The King's cloak unfurls around him like a dark cape as he turns back with a wry grin.

"Do not try to keep up, mortal. You will only hurt yourself."

That's it. My blood is simmering now, and I want nothing more than to prove him wrong. Skye hesitates only a moment before racing after them, forcing me to lean closer to her body so I don't fall off. Thankfully, her gait is as smooth as it is fast. I wouldn't doubt it if there were tiny wings on her hooves, making her fly over the grass below like a bird soaring over the ocean.

The King must have heard us coming because he glances back again and urges Conquer to go faster. But it's too late now because Skye is bounding up beside them, her neck extended as we battle for the lead.

Then we both make a wide turn and our direction faces the tent. Skye must know as well as I do that this is the time to shine. With a dismissive snort, she takes the lead and we put yards between us and the King before blaring past the tent that marks the finish line to our race. I know there's a group of people standing outside the tent, watching what I just did, and I can't help but milk the victory for all it's worth, so I sit up in the saddle and raise my fists in the air with a triumphant shout.

Skye slows to a trot and turns back toward the tent, breathing heavy but still clipping along with excitement. I reach down and hug my arms around her neck, resting my cheek against her dark coat glistening with sweat.