The Supreme Warrior *2014 ABNA Contest 2nd Round*

CHAPTER 5.2: Tussels in the Hay

Alynde loved to go to the stables in the quiet night. Powerful beasts had captivated her since she was a child, unlike the small creatures she kept as pets. The pets appealed to her need to nurture. Horses unleashed her imagination.

The horses in Dannik’s stable were strange to her, and shied from her presence. A warm rush ran up her spine, as she perceived her effect on them. She could feel their desire to run free. She was soft and fragile, yet these massive beasts waited upon her whim, their strength made futile by the structures that housed them.

Alynde stepped next to a tall roan stallion. She stood on tiptoe as she reached up with a gleeful hand to stroke the animal’s quivering neck. She had always loved the exotic breeds in Dannik’s stable, which were far more high-strung than any in her father’s Barony. She missed them more than she had realized during her quasi-exile in the Temple.

The doors crashed open at the far end of the stable. Calidon Dannik stumbled through the entrance, leading a muscular charger. Despite the dim light, he moved through the room without hesitation. He tied up his horse, and began to groom it with drunken clumsiness. Her shockingly massive childhood companion grabbed a torch that hung on a nearby post and fumbled with a tinderbox. After many fruitless attempts, the fire caught with a sudden, illuminating flare.

Alynde gasped as the light played over the magnificent white stallion. The sudden illumination caught and held her attention. Cal unwittingly passed the bright flame close to his head, and Alynde saw his face for the first time. The stony glance he gave to such a beautiful animal astonished her.

She recalled coming to Dannik, when she could have been no more than seven. With the Dannik boys still busy with their tutor, she and her three siblings had been stashed in the playroom. Her brothers began to construct a fort with buildings blocks, while her older sister Elaeda looked with aloof disdain at the boy-toys. Meanwhile, a long row of wooden knights entranced Alynde.

Knights mounted on wheeled chargers were a common toy across the Baronies. Usually, a string was attached to each horse so that kids could make their chosen avatar tilt against a rival. Yet these knights had been emblazoned with what seemed to be a unique system of heraldry.

She had been admiring the careful handiwork, when a sturdy boy, who appeared close to her own age, charged into the room and claimed to have painted them himself. Mollified by her interest, he then proudly displayed the fantastic beasts of his own creation. The two had been inseparable ever since—until she left for the Temple.

Inspired by the past, she asked, “If he carried one of your toy knights, what device would they bear?”

Cal's head jerked in her direction. He smiled with happiness as he recognized the memory that lay behind her her question. Animation drained from his features as he worried about being too obvious. He wrestled his features into a rigidly blank expression.

A satisfied smile touched her lips. Fortunately, the darkness hid her face.

He considered her question for a moment, and then answered, “A hyena—with the talons and beak of an eagle."

When she responded with a puzzled expression, he added, "He looks like a champion. But I have my doubts about his heart.”

She examined the magnificent stallion and asked, “What’s his name?”

“Windbourne,” came his flat reply.

“He's young. Maybe all he needs is a chance to prove himself.”

Alynde’s foot impatiently gouged the hay. In spite of his failure to reply, she could tell her answer had pleased him. Finally, she asked, “Do you always groom your horse at this time of night?”

“Only when I need to think.”

She coquettishly leaned forward and asked, “What’s on your mind?”

He took a step back and said, “The Fair, the Tournament, the stupid games. I wish we could get rid of them all.”

Alynde suppressed a frown. He had the annoying habit of pulling away just when she wanted to get closer—both physically and emotionally. He’s spoiling a promising little chat.

She tried to nudge him back on track. “What would you rather do?”

Cal hesitated, and then said, “Go riding with you.”

He laughed, embarrassed by his trite rhyme.

Alynde looked up at him with her aqua eyes before she chirped, “That was pretty bad.”

“Yeah,” he conceded. He stepped behind her and put his hands on her waist.

His voice turned wistful. “Does that mean you won’t go?”

“No.”

Alynde fought to stifle her giggle. This rhyming is getting out of control.

Cal put his hands to her waist and easily lifted her, intending to set her on Windbourne’s back.

“Stop! There’s no saddle on your horse!” exclaimed Alynde. She struggled in his arms, shrieking uncontrollably.

“I know. Bareback is the only way to ride.”

Ha! Hooked!

Alynde felt his teeth pull at the laces of her gown; but the slack muscles in his arms told her that he lacked any real intent.

Dutifully, she elbowed him the stomach.

“Owww,” he cried in dramatic pain. Cal put her down. She whirled to face him, but he did not let go. Instead, Cal pulled her down onto a pile of new-cut hay.

She grabbed a haywad and mussed his hair. He pinned her in retaliation and moved to kiss her, but she turned her chin away. He spoke gently into her ear, “Do you remember when I dropped a caterpillar down Gracella Chulert’s dress?”

Alynde giggled. “Of course. She jumped to the moon. ”

“You still owe me the kiss you promised me for doing it.”

She smiled as she replied in a righteous tone, “I offered. But you were so mad about having to muck stables for the rest of Wintefest that you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“So? I’d like to collect now.”

Her voice turned serious, as she reminded him, “My father wants me to marry your brother.”

“And what do you want?”

“To do as I please.”

Cal pulled her to him, and this time she did not resist. After a long kiss, he asked, “Don’t you find me pleasant?”

Alynde did not answer. Their sudden, mutual desire strained their rediscovered closeness. How can I stall him without cooling his interest?

This ugly problem cut off her hope for a fresh new romance.

Where did the world end and privacy begin? She did not know, and the empty feeling in her gut left her little hope of finding it. She stiffly extracted herself from his arms and brushed the hay from her gown.

She blurted, “I’ve got to go.”

As she glanced over her shoulder for one last look at him, she saw confused and angry eyes locked on her form. She covered her answering outrage with a playful smile and a graceful whirl.

Why do men compose impossible symphonies—then blame me for refusing to play?

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