Chapter 9: Preparation

Chapter 9: Preparation

“What are you doing?!”

Alarmed, I turn around, eyes wide. I immediately start talking, waving my arms around for emphasis. I grow more desperate and pathetic as I blubber on, blurting out what comes to mind.

“Oh, hi, there! I’m uh,” I am so dead! Oh, gods, I need a reason. “I’m… just helping to saddle the horses, for uh, the hunt, ya know?”

Sheepishly, I finish my rant with my arm rubbing the back of my neck. I raise my eyes to look at the person. Am I going to get ANY good luck anytime soon?!

Thyra looks at me, crossing her arms. “Enough mucking about when you should be mucking stalls!” She mocks in a gruff voice. I roll my eyes, letting out a breath of relief, and shove her shoulder lightly. Thank gods it was here and not someone else.

“Whatever. You may pull a great impression of my father but you forgot one important detail; he doesn’t even speak to me.” I retort, lifting my chin in defiance as if it’s something I should be proud of. Thyra’s mouth curls upward on one side to form a smirk. She shakes her head.

“Whatever. Let’s go.”

“but the hor—”

“I’ve already caught them. They’re around the back and all they need to be is saddled,” Thyra explains impatiently, “now let’s go! Before someone does catch us!”

I give a nod of agreement. “Alright, let’s grab the tack,” I reply, quickly moving for the tack section. I grab a bridle, saddle rug, a saddle, and a hunting helmet before I follow Thyra out the door once she has done the same. We’re required to have a helmet when we hunt. Most people remove theirs after a little while anyway because they’re too hard to see out of. But we’re not allowed through the boundary without wearing one. It’s a weird law but designed to keep us safe I guess.

We make it about halfway down the hall before someone walks our way, balancing a few buckets of water in their arms. Thinking quickly, I pull Thyra by the wrist into an empty stall and crouch down, tugging her down with me. She glares at me, wrenching her arm out of my grip and making a show of messaging it. I roll my eyes and signal to her to be silent by raising a finger to my lips. She mocks me silently but does as told.

Soft footsteps grow close until they pass us, and before we know it they're out of hearing range. I stand up, brushing the straw bedding from my clothes, before offering a hand to Thyra. She takes it, also brushing herself off. We slip out of the stall, shitting it softly behind us.

I point down the hall towards the side door I originally entered, mouthing ”this way” to her. She nods in affirmation and we jog down to the door, being careful with the tack we still hold.

We reach the door and Thyra opens it a crack, seeking through it. She glances at me and I nod. She slides opens the door and we step out, softly closing it behind us.

Thyra moves to the left and I follow her as we jog down the length of the building and come to the backfields; they’re usually used for exercising or training horses. I’ve been back here many times, I often help out my mum when we gentle horses. At least she talks to me. Sometimes she’s the only person who listens to me, well her and Thyra. I can’t help but smirk to myself. But Thyra mostly scolds me for my stupid ideas.

Two of these paddocks share one side with the back wall of the stables, while the third paddock is behind them. In the closest paddock to us, tied to some cross ties hanging off the wall are two horses, who turn to look at us with pricked ears as we walk into view. I hand my tack to Thyra and quickly jump the wooden fence, landing in the grass with a thud that stings my side. I do my best to hide the discomfort from her she hands me the tack over the fence and follows my example.

“So they’re leaving pretty quickly, let’s hope we’ll be done by the time the first bell sounds,” Thyra comments as we walk over to the horses. Letting out a nod of agreement, I give her back her tack.

“Yeah, if all goes well we should be able to slip into the back of the group without being noticed,” I reply cheerfully. “What horse do you want?” I add, starting at the horses. They stand around the same size, with one being a white colour, while the other is a light brown colour. ”I don’t know about you, but that white one is giving me a weird look.” I mutter, glancing at the horse closest to us. Thyra snickers.

“The correct term is ‘grey’ actually, and I’ll take him.” Thyra boasts, jogging up to him. “Considering how much time you’ve spent around this place, I thought you would know that.”

With a roll of my eyes, I decide to ignore her as I head towards the brown horse, giving the ‘grey‘ horse a wide birth.

“Whatever. I know a crazy horse when I see one.” I mutter to myself, greeting the brown horse with a pat on the neck. I think his name is Windchaser. I’m pretty sure I helped my mother gentle him a few years back. The horse gives me a soft kicker and nudges my shoulder as I pass him to set the saddle down. Huh. Maybe he remembers me!

I quickly get to work, saddling Windchaser in a few minutes. I even manage to hold back a wheeze when I lift the saddle to his back. Once I’ve secured the girth strap, I lead him away from the wall by the reins and attach my leather bag to the saddle and double-check everything, before mounting up and slipping on the helmet. It fits the entire face, with only a small area cut of for the eyes. It’s things like this that make me question my island’s choices.

“Hurry up Thyra!’ I tease her as I turn the horse in a circle with my knees, making sure everything is ok. I know I check quite, often but I can’t help it! I had an accident when I was a kid, where the girth wasn’t tightened enough. The saddle and I slid right off the horse and onto rocks. So I’ve always made sure to check these things.

“Hey!” She frowns at me as she slides the saddle onto her horse’s back, “shut up, I’m nearly done.”

I laugh quietly as I nudge the horse into a trout and start pacing the edge of the paddock. A bell rings out in bursts of four from somewhere close by. “Four minutes!” I warn Thyra, who scowls and mimics me with a whiny tone as she finally swings up into the saddle.

“Let’s go then!” She snaps at me with a playful tone, leading the way out of the open gate located at the far side of the pen.

We trot out of the paddock and around the side of the stables to the clearing in front of the stables where I had to sneak across earlier. Except now, several torches and lamps light the area, and about twenty other people stand with or perch on, their horses. I follow Thyra to the back of the group, staring straight ahead as I pray that none of the guards pacing the outlines of the clearing chooses to interrogate us.

“Men and Women!” a voice rings out from somewhere near the front. It must be the leader. “The hunt is going to start here, before we’ll head over the southern pastures. From there we’ll go up Fools Mountain, before heading to Star River. We’ll head around the Great Rocks before we’ll come back via Light Pass. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir!” everyone exclaims with enthusiasm. I pull my cloak further around me, hoping to warm up.

“I wish you luck. Let us pray we return with some gain for our village. Are there any problems?”

“No, Sir!”

“Then let us be off!”

The group surges forward towards the forest, and I nudge my horse to follow.