Blood Knot

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight:

'So whereabouts are you from, Leif?' Avoca asked as she strode towards the largest stables she had ever seen. It was like a miniature castle in itself, with four turrets around two floors of a well-built wooden structure. It easily held sixty horses, Avoca thought. As they walked in the entrance the yapping of a dozen dogs sent Avoca's wrist jumping to her sheathed dagger.

'I'm an elf,' Leif said, 'where do you think I'm from?'

'Well...' Avoca walked past the dogs. 'It's not as if there's only one Elven Kingdom, and you're not exactly the norm for an elf.'

'Are you saying you think I'm from Dalamria?' he said with mock horror. Dalamria was the country of renegade elves, a lawless, fearsome place from all reports. It was on the same continent as the Llaams, and there had even been rumours of them joining together for war. That was a formidable thought. Avoca's eyes lit up.

''Scuse me, you can't be in here!' A group of scruffy looking stable boys looked around a stall. Leif and Avoca glanced at each other.

Avoca completely ignored them, walking past numerous stalls and studying each horse. There were all beautiful – well groomed dapple greys, powerful horses with muscles that rippled as they came to investigate the newcomers, lithe and speedy specimens with calm eyes. Avoca came to a stop in front of a stall that contained a pure white palfrey. The horse stood proudly, her coat glistening with silvery strands. She was tall, but looked fast and strong. But it was her eyes that made Avoca stop. They seemed to contain a depth that a person could get lost in. Framed by black, the sad brown eyes swirled with intelligence, looking at Avoca with recognition.

'You, yer can't be in here!' One of the boys, a young Halfling, said nervously. 'That there is the Lady Mirabelle's horse!'

Not taking her eyes from the horse, she smirked. 'Then harness it.'

'What? We can't do that, you can't... I'll have to call the guards!' the boy's eyes flickered nervously to Leif, who was leaning against another stall. A shorter boy with a head full of curls tapped the first boy on the shoulder. 'Erm, Luke,' he whispered, 'I think that is the Lady Mirabelle!'

'Oh!' Luke exclaimed. 'I'm sorry Ma'am, I'll saddle Spirit up right now.'

'Spirit?' Avoca asked.

'The, um, horse, m'lady.' He scurried to fetch a saddle for her.

'So,' Leif said, 'where are we going?' He came to stand directly in front of Avoca, looking down at her.

'I,' she said, 'am going to onto the moors.' The stable boy Luke was trying to make up for his blunder by going as fast as he could.

'And am I invited?' Leif said, edging even closer to her.

'No.'

''Scuse me Lady Mirabelle,' Luke said. 'Your horse is ready.' He sounded a little nervous but quite proud at his speed. Avoca pushed Leif out of her way and approached Spirit.

'Will you be wanting a horse saddling too sir?' Luke asked Leif.

'He will not!' Avoca answered for him. Leif did that annoying smirk again and shook his head. Avoca stroked the soft hair and felt the warm skin pulsing underneath. She mounted gracefully with practised ease. She urged Spirit to exit the stall at a trot. It felt like Spirit could read her mind, the way it was so easy to direct her. At the slightest touch, Spirit glided forwards like a bird of prey sailing through the wind. As she passed Luke, she threw a few silver pieces to him. He grinned at her as he caught it.