Status: in progress
Swift and Careful
Chapter 1
Mael’s hair flew wildly in the wind behind her, so wildly that it could have been mistaken for the black, tangled mane of her steed. The pair flew across the landscape only to disappear at the edge of the forest with nothing but the sound of pounding hooves. The sun reflected off of their locks as they flew and made it seem like bits of silver had already begun to claim their youth. The fur of her tunic ruffled her neck as she sped, and the leather strings that held her breasts in tucked themselves under her arms. Her racing partner, following her all the way from their village, was close behind her and it wasn’t long before he, too, had vanished among the underbrush of the old trees. His yellow, thick-skulled creature didn’t resemble him at all, and the personality of the horse and the rider was juxtaposed as well. The crashing sounds of the animals sent every other living thing fleeing for safe ground, but Mael had no need to be quiet this time. She was going to win the race to the cairn if it killed her because she was not a person who lost things like bets or races and it would be a disgrace if she failed.
With a flash of hair and a rush of wind, hoof prints were left behind on the bank of the river that kept the trees and the moss fed as the rider guided her horse across the water in one leap. She was the better horsewoman out of her and Drest, so she could navigate through the thick ferns and squishy moss with ease, and jump from one side of the stream to the other without hurting herself. Mael was closing in on the end of the race when she heard a scream come from behind her, followed by a whinny and a splash of water. What have you done now, you stupid boy? She thought, though she already knew. She pulled up short just as the trees began to get thinner with altitude and wind.
With only a moment of hesitation, since it was really his fault, she pulled the horse around and began to make her way towards the stream again. She had certainly left a path of destruction. A clear tunnel had been carved through the thick of the fallen branches and the undergrowth by the body of the horse. Mael’s fingers were loose on the leather as she retraced her path.
Drest was sitting up on the side of the stream cradling his left arm. There was a thick line of blood that made its way down his hollowed cheeks and onto the leather of his tunic, which would never wash out. His legs looked scraped up from the ride, but nothing else seemed to be wrong. His horse had strayed a bit from him, and the reins had fallen down from the withers to sit on its neck. The creature pulled at the weeds, munching with loud snorting sounds. Drest’s face was screwed up in pain, but he hadn’t made another sound after his fall.
“Can you stand?” Mael asked him. His answer, aside from a pointed glare, was to look up at her with a face that was smeared with sand from the shore and blood from a small cut on his cheek. He pushed himself up from his seat on the bank and turned to fetch his horse with no more words, but soon lost his balance and fell over into a tangle of weeds and branches. This time, he just stayed where he was for a moment before beginning to pick himself up again. When he had gathered himself enough, he hauled himself to his feet. A few little branches came with him, sticking out of his tunic and his belt. He looked ridiculous, like a character from a bard’s story who had the worst luck in the world, but she chose not to comment on what he looked like. His manhood had been attacked enough for one day. Drest squared his shoulders, brushed some of the twigs from his clothes, and went to fetch his horse. He had to yank on the reins in order to get any attention, but it was eventually won and he led the horse to a nearby rock and used it to pull himself up into the saddle. His arm still looked a little tender, and there was a bit of a bruise forming already.
“We should probably go back, you look like you need to visit Karth.” Karth, the druid priest, was going to be their first visit, and it was a little of a surprise that they didn’t stumble across him in the forest. That was where the man loved to spend most of his free time, but he didn’t have much of that these days. Drest nudged his horse with his heels and started to walk back the way they had come. The village wasn’t far at all, since their ride hadn’t lasted very long, but they had been riding as fast as their horses would carry them. Mael pushed off from the forest floor, landing her stomach in the saddle. She spun quickly so that she was upright with a leg on either side, her feet nestled into the damp sides of her animal. They had to trot to keep up with Drest and within a few minutes, they made it out of the forest and into the large fields that surrounded their home.
Instead of riding hard to get back, the two took their time. The sky was clear and the sun was still high. They weren’t in danger of being caught in the darkness of the woods, so they both relaxed into their saddles with slouched backs and relaxed muscles. To the south, a new tribe was trying to make a war out of a simple battle for land. It wouldn’t last long, but it meant that Mael couldn’t ride as far as she would like. She knew every inch of the countryside and what it looked like from the back of her horse. When Mael had turned six moons, her mother had bought her a filly from the stable. It was a skinny little thing, but it soon became her best friend. She and her horse, Malkin, had been the best companion a person could have. It hurt her to think that this might soon come to an end all because of her age.
“Mael, I need to tell you something.” Drest interrupted to quiet sounds of the hooves on packed earth. His voice was still taught with the pain from his arm, but his face was set in a more serious expression rather than pain.
“What could you have to tell me right now, Drest? Are you incapable of enjoying this day right now? Or do you need to ruin that for me, too?” Drest’s life must be so pitiful, she thought. He was surrounded with it. He was the son of the chief. Mael tapped at Malkin’s sides with her feet and she began to pull ahead of him at a slow rate. She felt peaceful right now, and she didn’t want anything to shake that. Dark thoughts, like those of marriage, rank and clan politics, were not things she wanted to be concerned with right now.
“I’ll see you at dinner!” Mael called out behind her as she sped up, putting as much distance between her and any bad news as possible.
With a flash of hair and a rush of wind, hoof prints were left behind on the bank of the river that kept the trees and the moss fed as the rider guided her horse across the water in one leap. She was the better horsewoman out of her and Drest, so she could navigate through the thick ferns and squishy moss with ease, and jump from one side of the stream to the other without hurting herself. Mael was closing in on the end of the race when she heard a scream come from behind her, followed by a whinny and a splash of water. What have you done now, you stupid boy? She thought, though she already knew. She pulled up short just as the trees began to get thinner with altitude and wind.
With only a moment of hesitation, since it was really his fault, she pulled the horse around and began to make her way towards the stream again. She had certainly left a path of destruction. A clear tunnel had been carved through the thick of the fallen branches and the undergrowth by the body of the horse. Mael’s fingers were loose on the leather as she retraced her path.
Drest was sitting up on the side of the stream cradling his left arm. There was a thick line of blood that made its way down his hollowed cheeks and onto the leather of his tunic, which would never wash out. His legs looked scraped up from the ride, but nothing else seemed to be wrong. His horse had strayed a bit from him, and the reins had fallen down from the withers to sit on its neck. The creature pulled at the weeds, munching with loud snorting sounds. Drest’s face was screwed up in pain, but he hadn’t made another sound after his fall.
“Can you stand?” Mael asked him. His answer, aside from a pointed glare, was to look up at her with a face that was smeared with sand from the shore and blood from a small cut on his cheek. He pushed himself up from his seat on the bank and turned to fetch his horse with no more words, but soon lost his balance and fell over into a tangle of weeds and branches. This time, he just stayed where he was for a moment before beginning to pick himself up again. When he had gathered himself enough, he hauled himself to his feet. A few little branches came with him, sticking out of his tunic and his belt. He looked ridiculous, like a character from a bard’s story who had the worst luck in the world, but she chose not to comment on what he looked like. His manhood had been attacked enough for one day. Drest squared his shoulders, brushed some of the twigs from his clothes, and went to fetch his horse. He had to yank on the reins in order to get any attention, but it was eventually won and he led the horse to a nearby rock and used it to pull himself up into the saddle. His arm still looked a little tender, and there was a bit of a bruise forming already.
“We should probably go back, you look like you need to visit Karth.” Karth, the druid priest, was going to be their first visit, and it was a little of a surprise that they didn’t stumble across him in the forest. That was where the man loved to spend most of his free time, but he didn’t have much of that these days. Drest nudged his horse with his heels and started to walk back the way they had come. The village wasn’t far at all, since their ride hadn’t lasted very long, but they had been riding as fast as their horses would carry them. Mael pushed off from the forest floor, landing her stomach in the saddle. She spun quickly so that she was upright with a leg on either side, her feet nestled into the damp sides of her animal. They had to trot to keep up with Drest and within a few minutes, they made it out of the forest and into the large fields that surrounded their home.
Instead of riding hard to get back, the two took their time. The sky was clear and the sun was still high. They weren’t in danger of being caught in the darkness of the woods, so they both relaxed into their saddles with slouched backs and relaxed muscles. To the south, a new tribe was trying to make a war out of a simple battle for land. It wouldn’t last long, but it meant that Mael couldn’t ride as far as she would like. She knew every inch of the countryside and what it looked like from the back of her horse. When Mael had turned six moons, her mother had bought her a filly from the stable. It was a skinny little thing, but it soon became her best friend. She and her horse, Malkin, had been the best companion a person could have. It hurt her to think that this might soon come to an end all because of her age.
“Mael, I need to tell you something.” Drest interrupted to quiet sounds of the hooves on packed earth. His voice was still taught with the pain from his arm, but his face was set in a more serious expression rather than pain.
“What could you have to tell me right now, Drest? Are you incapable of enjoying this day right now? Or do you need to ruin that for me, too?” Drest’s life must be so pitiful, she thought. He was surrounded with it. He was the son of the chief. Mael tapped at Malkin’s sides with her feet and she began to pull ahead of him at a slow rate. She felt peaceful right now, and she didn’t want anything to shake that. Dark thoughts, like those of marriage, rank and clan politics, were not things she wanted to be concerned with right now.
“I’ll see you at dinner!” Mael called out behind her as she sped up, putting as much distance between her and any bad news as possible.