A Discovery of Witches - Deborah Harkness [133]
Angry, I was sure.
Rakasa rounded the corner, and I slowed her to a trot. “Well?” I demanded.
Georges nodded and opened the paddock gate.
“You have a good seat,” Matthew said, eyeing my backside. “Good hands, too. You’ll be all right. By the way,” he continued in a conversational tone, leaning toward me and dropping his voice, “if you’d jumped the fence back there, today’s outing would have been over.”
Once we’d cleared the gardens and passed through the old gate, the trees thickened, and Matthew scanned the forest. A few feet into the woods, he began to relax, having accounted for every creature within and discovered that none of them were of the two-legged variety.
Matthew kicked Dahr into a trot, and Rakasa obediently waited for me to kick her as well. I did, amazed all over again at how smoothly she moved.
“What kind of horse is Dahr?” I asked, noticing his equally smooth gait.
“I suppose you’d call him a destrier,” Matthew explained. That was the mount that carried knights to the Crusades. “He was bred for speed and agility.”
“I thought destriers were enormous warhorses.” Dahr was bigger than Rakasa, but not much.
“They were large for the time. But they weren’t big enough to carry any of the men in this family into battle, not once we had armor on our backs, and weapons. We trained on horses like Dahr and rode them for pleasure, but we fought on Percherons like Balthasar.”
I stared between Rakasa’s ears, working up the courage to broach another subject. “May I ask you something about your mother?”
“Of course,” Matthew said, twisting in his saddle. He put one fist on his hip and held his horse’s reins lightly in the other hand. I now knew with absolute certainty how a medieval knight looked on horseback.
“Why does she hate witches so much? Vampires and witches are traditional enemies, but Ysabeau’s dislike of me goes beyond that. It seems personal.”
“I suppose you want a better answer than that you smell like spring.”
“Yes, I want the real reason.”
“She’s jealous.” Matthew patted Dahr’s shoulder.
“What on earth is she jealous of ?”
“Let’s see. Your power—especially a witch’s ability to see the future. Your ability to bear children and pass that power to a new generation. And the ease with which you die, I suppose,” he said, his voice reflective.
“Ysabeau had you and Louisa for children.”
“Yes, Ysabeau made both of us. But it’s not quite the same as bearing a child, I think.”
“Why does she envy a witch’s second sight?”
“That has to do with how Ysabeau was made. Her maker didn’t ask permission first.” Matthew’s face darkened. “He wanted her for a wife, and he just took her and turned her into a vampire. She had a reputation as a seer and was young enough to still hope for children. When she became a vampire, both of those abilities were gone. She’s never quite gotten over it, and witches are a constant reminder of the life she lost.”
“Why does she envy that witches die so easily?”
“Because she misses my father.” He abruptly stopped talking, and it was clear I’d pressed him enough.
The trees thinned, and Rakasa’s ears shot back and forth impatiently.
“Go ahead,” he said with resignation, gesturing at the open field before us.
Rakasa leaped forward at the touch of my heels, catching the bit in her teeth. She slowed climbing the hill, and once on the crest she pranced and tossed her head, clearly enjoying the fact that Dahr was standing at the bottom while she was on top. I circled her into a fast figure eight, changing her leads on the fly to keep her from stumbling as she went around corners.
Dahr took off—not at a canter but a gallop—his black tail streaming out behind him and his hooves striking the earth with unbelievable speed. I gasped and pulled lightly on Rakasa’s reins to make her stop. So that was the point of destriers. They could go from zero to sixty like a finely tuned sports car. Matthew made no effort to slow his horse as he