Mind Games

CHAPTER 29:  The Aching is the Hardest Part        

       When they came to the stable yard Mariah hesitated, surprised.  Gabriel stopped too.  “Oh,” he said.  “I’m sorry. I came here out of habit.”  He ran his fingers through his hair, perplexed.  “Are you tired?”

       Although it was early afternoon, Mariah was exhausted.  But she shook her head.  “Only if it pleases you, my lord,” she said.

       “As I’ve told you a thousand times, it would please me if you would stop talking that way,” he said, almost rotely.  “Since we’re here, would you like to ride a horse?”  He smiled, looking sunny and boyish and hopeful in a way that Mariah rarely saw in him. 

       She bit down her fear and lifted her chin.  “If it pleases you, my lord.”  She looked at him from the corner of her eye, and at his frown of annoyance she grinned and looked quickly away. 

       Gabriel led Mariah through the stable yard and into the third entrance.  They stopped at the threshold, to give their eyes a chance to adjust to the dimmer light. 

       A slave appeared before them.  “May I serve you, my lord?” he asked.

       “Ah, Remarque,” Gabriel said with a smile.  “How’s your shoulder today?” 

       As Mariah looked with interest at the man she had seen Gabriel stitch up weeks earlier, Remarque rolled his shoulders expressively.  “Good as new, my lord,” he said.

       Gabriel led Remarque out into the sunshine, where he looked critically at the puckered scar at the border of his shoulder and neck.  “May I?” he murmured to Remarque before touching it gently with his finger.  He nodded.  “I’m afraid you’ll always have a bit of a mark there,” he said.  “Sloppy work on my part.  I’m sorry.”

       Without warning Remarque fell to his knees in front of Gabriel.  Gabriel took a step back.  “Remarque!  What are you . . . ”

       Remarque stayed where he was.  “My lord, you saved my life!  This is the only way I know how to thank you.”  And he slowly lowered his forehead to the ground.

       “I expect Gabriel would appreciate your gratitude more if you gave it to him standing up,” Master Stefan drawled, leading a large speckled white mare to the entryway. 

       Remarque scrambled to his feet.  “Master,” he said to Stefan.  “I didn’t see . . .”

       “Clearly,” Stefan said.  “Now go to your duties.” A look passed between them, and Mariah knew that Remarque would be punished.  Remarque backed away before turning and hurrying inside the stable.

       Stefan turned to Mariah.  “Ah,” he said with a sardonic smile.  “The runaway graces us with her presence.” Mariah flushed.

       “I was hoping you could help us,” Gabriel said.  “Mariah wants to ride, but her ribs aren’t healed.  I was thinking if she could mount and dismount from a bench she wouldn’t have to put pressure on them.  And if you had a smooth, easy ride for her . . .”

       Stefan looked at Mariah appraisingly, but with interest, not meanness.  He stroked his chin.  “Have you ever ridden before?” he asked.

       “Just once, my lord,” Mariah said, feeling foolish. 

       Stefan turned to Gabriel.  “We’ll put her on Mercy,” he said.   When Gabriel nodded in agreement, Stefan said, barely raising his voice, “Remarque.”  When Remarque appeared immediately as if he had been hovering just beyond their view Stefan showed no surprise.  “Tell Jordan to saddle Mercy.” He looked critically at Mariah again.  “Standard saddle.” 

       “Yes, my lord,” Remarque said.  As he turned to go Gabriel called to him, “Wait!”  When Remarque stopped, he said, “Would you ask Jordan to saddle Pegasus for me too?”  Both Stefan and Remarque looked at him in surprise, but Gabriel shrugged and indicated Mariah.  “She needs to rest.” 

       Mariah flushed again, embarrassed, but Stefan merely indicated a bench between his stable entrance and the next one over before stalking off, leading the mare by her bridle.  “Friendly chap, ain’t he?” Gabriel said as he brought Mariah over to the bench. 

       When Mariah sat next to Gabriel she was overwhelmed with exhaustion.  She closed her eyes just for a moment.  She heard a voice say, “Both horses are ready, my lord.”  She felt unaccountably safe, and when she opened her eyes she realized she was leaning against Gabriel, his arm around her.  She scooted away.  Gabriel smiled at her.  “Good morning, Sunshine,” he said.  She scowled and stood up, surprised at how rested she felt.

       Stefan took Mercy’s reins from Jordan.  He checked the saddle belt and the stirrups, nodded, and walked away.  Then Gabriel checked the saddle belt and the stirrups. 

       Stefan came back with a short bale of hay, which he put on the bench.  “Ordinarily you would pull yourself into the saddle, one foot in the stirrup and then swinging your other leg around,” Gabriel told Mariah.  “But with your ribs you can’t do that, yet.  So we’ll have you just step into the saddle.”   

       Gabriel took Mercy’s reins from Jordan with a smile, and led her over to the bench. “I’ll hold the horse,” Master Stefan said.  “You help the chit. I expect she would prefer you to me.”  He looked at Mariah, expressionless.  Mariah looked away and happened to glance at Jordan, who winked at her.

       “Climb up here,” Master Gabriel said to Mariah, indicating the block of hay Master Stefan had placed on the bench.  As Mariah did so, Master Stefan urged Mercy closer to the bench, until her legs were almost touching it.  “Just step right into it,” Master Gabriel instructed Mariah.  “You can put  your hand on the horn,” indicating the front of the saddle, “for balance, but don’t pull with your arms.”         

       Mariah swung her leg over and landed in the saddle.  Master Stefan led the horse away from the bench, and Gabriel adjusted the stirrups until Mariah’s feet were in what he deemed to be the proper position.  He took the reins from Stefan, put them over Mercy’s head, and placed them in Mariah’s hands.  “This way to go the right,” he said, moving Mariah’s hands to the right of the horses neck, “and this way to the left,” and he moved her hands to the left.  “Pull back to stop.”  Mariah nodded and looked down.  The last time she had been astride a horse she had been blindfolded.  She could see why; up here she felt strong and powerful. 

       Then Mercy began to walk and Mariah grasped at the horn, letting the reins falls.  Stefan rolled his eyes and handed them back to Mariah as Gabriel mounted his own horse.  “Sit up straight, and don’t touch the horn when you’re riding,” he said. “It only shows fear.”

       “I’m not . . .” Mariah spluttered, but Master Stefan had moved away, handing a lead rope to Gabriel. Mariah sat up straight and put her left hand on her thigh, firmly away from the horn.

       Master Gabriel chirruped to Pegasus, and they started to walk out of the stable yard.  By the time they reached the wide road that led away from the mansion, through the fields, Mariah’s knees had begun to ache.  She shifted uncomfortably in her saddle, which made Mercy pick up her pace.  She pulled back on the reins and the horse slowed down. 

       Master Gabriel turned back to her.  “Good?” he asked, and she nodded, blankening her face.

       The pain in her knees got worse, but she held still, nervous about the effect that fidgeting would have on the horse.  She remembered how her knees had ached on her blindfolded ride from the fields to the mansion so long ago.

       As they traveled the main road heading east, among the kitchen fields, Gabriel was talking to her, about how his sister had secretly taught herself to ride.  Mariah barely listened, focusing on keeping her face blank and not shifting in her saddle, although the pain in her knees was increasingly sharp.  Eventually Gabriel stopped talking.  When at length he turned them around Mariah breathed a small sigh of relief.  The aching in her knees was atrocious. 

       

       The walk back to the stable seemed to take forever.  When she could take it no more she slowly removed her feet from the stirrups and bent her knees more to relieve some of the pressure on them.  It helped only a little.  Mercy continued to plod along, led by Gabriel.

       

       At last they came back to the stable yard.  Gabriel dismounted with a jump, but before he had moved towards Mariah someone called his name.  A human ran up to him, breathless.  “My wife fell off her stallion jumping the dam at the Hollyhock stream.  Her leg’s broken. Can you come?”

       “Of course,” Gabriel said.  He glanced at Mariah, who looked stolidly back at him.   

       Stefan hurried up and took Mercy’s lead rope.  “Go with Avery.  I’ll see to your rag.” Gabriel looked from Stefan to Mariah, frowning.  Avery said impatiently, “Please, hurry, her brother’s with her but he . . . she . . .”

       “You’ll be okay?” Gabriel asked Mariah.  “I can’t take you . . . It’s two miles to the dam and I’ll need to cantor . . . “  Mariah felt fear in the pit of her stomach.  He would leave her here, far from the safe apartments.  But she nodded.  Gabriel was unsatisfied.  “You’ll behave?”  he asked anxiously. 

       Avery gave an impatient hiss.  “Healer!  She’s hurt bad.  Please!”  But Gabriel did not drop Mariah’s gaze until she nodded again.  Then he swung back up onto Pegasus. He said to Stefan, “Send a wagon to the dam, will you?  And a couple of strong men, and plaster from the hospital supply room -- get a message to Robyn there -- she’ll know what I need.” 

       “Of course,” Stefan said.  As Gabriel turned Pegasus around, Stefan threw Mercy’s lead rope over a railing, and hurried away. 

       Mariah was left alone on Mercy.  She tried at first not to shift in her saddle, but as the minutes passed with no abatement to the pain in her knees, she couldn’t help it.  Mercy whickered, and Mariah wondered if that was sympathy.  Tentatively she touched the horse’s neck.  It was soft and warm.  Sighing, she looked in the direction that Gabriel had gone, when she felt a hand on hers. 

       Startled, she looked down to see Master Stefan.  He pressed her palm into the horse’s neck and moved it up and down.  “Pat her firmly,” he said. He met her eye without malice, and removed his hand.  Mariah continued to pat the horse. 

       Stefan moved the short bale of hay from the bench where they had left it earlier to the ground under Mercy’s left side.  “You’re going to slide down,” he said.  “Move your right leg over the saddle so you’re facing me.”  Mariah did so with difficulty, wincing at the pain.   “Just slide forward,” Stefan said.

       Mariah slid, and landed on the bale of hay.  Her knees unable to support her, she cried out in pain and continued down to the ground before Stefan could catch her.  She scraped her palms and barely missed hitting her forehead on the dirt.

       With an oath Stefan pulled her to her feet, but again her knees would not support her and she fell.  This time Stefan let her stay on the ground.  “Your knees?” he said without sympathy.

       “Yes, Master,” Mariah answered, trying to pull herself up.

        “No doubt they began hurting almost as soon as you got on the horse?”

       “Yes, Master,” Mariah said again.

       Stefan frowned.  “You should have said something.  I hardly think that friend Gabriel intended to torture you on horseback,” he said, contemptuously.

       Angry tears stung Mariah’s eyes as she struggled to her feet. Finally finding her footing, she lifted her chin.  “No more than he would want Remarque punished for bowing before him,” she snapped. 

       Stefan’s eyes widened as his hands went automatically to his whip.  But his first surprise was replaced almost immediately with something else -- grudging respect, maybe. He half turned away from Mariah and boomed, “Jordan!  Here!  Now!” 

       Jordan wheeled around on the big black stallion she had been riding out of the yard and trotted over.  “Dismount,” Stefan ordered her. 

       Jordan swung off the horse and, holding his reins tightly, bowed her head before her master, awaiting instructions.

       “I want you to show Mariah the stretches for tight thighs.”  He looked at Mariah and said flatly, “You’ll do them every day.”

       Mariah scowled and took a step back, which made her knee hurt and caused her to stumble.  Master Stefan turned back to Jordan.  “Keep her out of trouble until she’s sent for,” he said.  “If anyone punishes her in your care, you’ll get ten times worse for yourself tonight.”  As Jordan nodded, he turned to Mariah, gripping his whip again.  “That includes me,” he growled.  Mariah’s scowl deepened, and her face colored, but she said nothing.  Stefan added to Jordan, “Leave the horses.  I’ll find someone to take care of them.”

       “Thank you, my lord,” Jordan said calmly. 

       As Stefan stalked off, Jordan tied the stallion near Mercy and turned to Mariah.  “C’mon,” she said.  She led Mariah through the mostly empty stable. 

       “Where are all the horses?” Mariah asked.

       Jordan shrugged.  “This time of day, the ones that aren’t being ridden are in the pasture.”  She turned into an empty stall on the right.

       “Is this . . . ?” Mariah began.

       Jordan nodded. “It’s Pegasus’s stall. Far enough back that no wandering humans will happen upon you here.” She spread out a blanket that had been laid over the low wall of the stall. “I’ll show you those stretches now.”  She sat down in a straddle, pointing her toes, leaning towards the  middle.

       Mariah sighed. More exercises to add to her repertoire.  “Why does Master Stefan want me to do these?” she asked

       Jordan stopped her demonstration, looking at Mariah as though she were simple.  “Master Gabriel will surely want to teach you to ride,” she said. “And you can’t learn if you can’t sit properly in a saddle.” 

       Mariah scowled again. Who said she wanted to learn to ride? But she remembered the first moments atop Mercy, before her knees started to hurt, how powerful she felt, almost free.  Yes, she would do what she needed to do to be able to ride.