Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [15]
Not yet, the bright lady whispered. Not for many years.
The memory made me shudder.
"I shall," I promised.
Three days later, we rode out to meet the Lord of the Dalriada.
I'd never ridden a horse before. 'Twas Cillian who brought her, a dapple-grey mare, leading her behind his stalwart pony and tethering them both before entering the brambles along the verge of our woods. I'd seen horses, of course, on our journey to Clunderry, but never at close range. The mare was grazing when we emerged from the thicket. She raised her head and gazed at us with lustrous eyes, munching on grass.
"How lovely!" I cried.
Cillian rummaged in his pockets. "I brought you a bit of dried—"
I had slipped into the twilight without thinking. "Hello," I said softly. She bowed her head and let me cup her muzzle, giving a grunting whicker in reply. Her coat shimmered in my vision. I blew into her nostrils. "Hello."
"Moirin?"
"Oh!" I let slip the twilight. "I'm sorry."
He handed me a wizened apple. "I thought you might be frightened of her. Here, hold your palm open."
I fed her the apple. Her lips tickled. "Why would I be frightened?"
"It was a foolish notion," he admitted. "Lady Fainche, do you know how to ride?"
My mother was stroking the mare's shoulder. The mare turned her head to lip my mother's hair. "I expect I'll manage. Your uncle Declan taught me long ago."
Cillian stared. "He did?"
"Mmm. A kindness shown to a distant cousin. You do know we all share a common ancestor in the great Lady Grainne of the Dalriada?" She mounted easily and settled her skirts around her. "Over to yon boulder, my heart," she said to me, guiding the mare with her knees. "You can mount up behind me."
In the exhilaration of the ride, I nearly forgot the purpose of our journey. We veered west, then rode south along a high stony ridge overlooking the sea. I clung to my mother's waist to keep myself from sliding around on the mare's wide back, my skirts hiked up to my knees, bare legs dangling. The wind was off the sea, cool and salt-smelling.
At first we just walked, but once Cillian saw that my mother could indeed ride and I didn't appear likely to fall off, he nudged his pony to a trot from time to time. My mother kept pace with him easily, though she let the knotted reins lie slack around the mare's neck.
"You've a knack for this," Cillian said curiously to her. "Have you ever kept horses of your own?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Whatever for?" she asked in turn. "What use is a horse in the woods ?"
He shrugged. "You could go places."
"So I can on my own two feet without a great maw to feed." My mother leaned over to pat the mare's shoulder. "'Tis not our way to keep animals captive. I reckon they like it no more than I would."
Privately, I thought it would be quite wonderful to have a horse of my own—or mayhap a pony, since my legs were beginning to ache from straddling the mare's girth. And I wouldn't keep it captive, either. It would live free in the meadows and come when I called it, obeying me out of love. We could roam the world and explore it together, free as birds.
I'd never considered such a notion before. It was a new thought.
It gave me a strange feeling—like the fluttering feeling, only higher. A feeling that made me happy and sad all at once. It made me uncomfortable. I pushed the feeling and the thought away together.
And then I saw them and forgot about it.
There were six of them waiting for us on the cliffs above the sea— three men and three women, all astride fine horses. The man in front I took to be Lord Tiernan. From what I could see over my mother's shoulder, she was right, Cillian had a look of him, although his father was older and bearded. Sunlight glinted on a gold tore around his neck. All of them wore fine, brightly colored clothing. I glanced down at my shapeless, much-mended brown dress. It was very practical and faded to just the right hue for moving unseen in the woods, but for the first time, I wondered if I ought to have accepted Cillian's offer of clothing and