The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [48]
‘Diablai,’ she said softly. ‘I would cherish a ride with you.’ She lifted her hand to stroke his shoulder, making it ripple with the touch. It felt like silk; the muscles beneath were tight, ready to spring.
Rowan grasped a handful of mane at the horse’s withers and vaulted up with practised ease before extending his arm down to Rosette. She ignored it. Grasping a handful of mane as well, she took a backward step towards Diablai’s head and vaulted up neatly behind.
Settling in, she pressed her face close to Rowan’s cheek. ‘Shall we be off?’
‘A horsewoman, are you?’
‘I used to be.’ She was about to frown but lifted her face instead.
‘Perhaps you’ll apprentice with the Sword Master after all,’ he said as he urged Diablai up the remaining slope.
‘He favours equestrians?’
‘Of course.’
She slipped her arms around Rowan’s waist. The power of the horse beneath her and the man in front of her made her take a deep breath. Invigorating! This was quite a contrast to the ride she had had earlier today. She could feel the undulation and tensing of every muscle in Diablai’s spine. Energy shot through him at such a rate, she thought they might fly up the cliff instead of climb it.
‘Why the sword?’ he asked.
‘What’s that?’ She turned her attention back to Rowan as she held him tight.
‘Why do you want to train with the sword?’
‘I feel more alive with a sword in my hand than at almost any other time.’
‘Any other reason?’
Rosette hesitated. ‘Promise not to laugh?’
‘Not if it’s funny.’
‘All right. Promise not to snicker?’
He nodded.
‘I train with the sword because…I had a dream.’
‘A dream?’
‘It was vivid, lingering. I know I will apprentice with the Sword Master. I have to. I’ve seen it.’
‘Do you base all your plans on dreams?’
‘Pretty much.’ She clutched him as they skirted around a cluster of oaks and up another steep incline. ‘Don’t you?’
He didn’t reply.
‘How’d you hear about our Sword Master anyway?’ Rowan asked, gripping Diablai’s mane.
‘He’s the best.’
‘Is that what they’re saying where you come from, in Dumarka?’
‘Actually, I come from the south, near Lister Bay, but either way, north or south, that’s what they say.’
‘And who are they?’
‘My mentor says so.’
‘Your mentor?’ Rowan said the words so softly that Rosette wasn’t sure he had actually spoken. ‘And who might that be?’ he asked, the question ringing out.
She cleared her throat.
‘Nellion Paree, of the Dumarkian Woods.’
‘Nellion Paree?’ He whistled.
Rosette bumped into Rowan’s shoulder as Diablai bunched his muscles to leap over a broad hedge that divided two tracks.
‘Hang on,’ he said.
They landed lightly on the far side of the hedge and galloped on.
‘The Nellion Paree?’ he asked again.
‘You keep saying her name, but you had it right the first time.’ Rosette pinched him and laughed.
He didn’t laugh back.
Rosette wasn’t sure what the problem was. ‘She’s a powerful witch, a great teacher.’
He didn’t respond for several strides as he urged Diablai up a climb of stairs. The horse’s hooves tapped out a beat as they hit the stones. Rosette tightened her leg muscles, and her breath came in rushes, though it was Diablai that ran. They crested the top of the stairs, directly behind the arena, just a short length from the stage.
‘Indeed she is,’ Rowan finally answered, turning his face to her as Diablai came to a halt. ‘And here we are.’
As promised, the short cut and the horse’s speed had secured them a spot in front of the main stage. Drayco stood very close to the horse, his tail twitching as he surveyed the crowd. His sides lifted and fell with each quick breath.
‘Amazing,’ Rosette said.
‘Did you doubt I could do it?’
‘A little,’ she said without apology. ‘I don’t know you.’
‘Perhaps we can remedy that,’ he said, giving her thigh a squeeze.
She released her arms from around his waist, leaned forward and slid her leg over Diablai’s rump. Next thing she knew, her feet were planted on the ground, her head tilted up to thank the horseman. It was then she realised he was barefoot, his