The Tryst
The first stabs of sunlight pierced the predawn twilight. Hericus nodded at Hukka, his groom, and lept upon his piebald horse, Fureo. The horse frisked his forelegs before Hericus cantered him out of Archalia Woods and into the meadow. The silver dew on the forest floor, scented of mint and moss, crunched underhoof. Fureo snorted, his breath blending with the early mornng mists. Hericus turned and smiled at Hukka.
'He needs his exercise, young master,' said Hukka, the folds in his face creasing into a grin.
'That he does. Thank you, Hukka. You've done well. Get back now. I'll see to Arcanus.' Without a word Hukka turned to Arcanus, tethered just inside the wood. She was a silver-gray mare of a seventeen hands - marginally shorter than Fureo; he gave her a reassuring tap on her mane. He climbed his chesnut stallion and rode out into the meadow towards Hericus. As they passed, he gave his master a straight look,
'Ye be careful with 'em both, sir.' Hericus thought he picked up concern in his old servant's voice for more than just the two horses's welfare.
'They're both precious to me, Hukka. You know that.'
'Aye, I do, sir. Still.' And he rode off down the meadow path away from the city. Arcanus belonged to Abreä. She was Hericus's sister - his half-sister. They'd agreed to meet at dawn. He was early.
Hericus had climbed the city walls unnoticed and walked to Archalia Woods, a mile outside the city’s walls. He was wearing a jerkin, black calf length leather boots and a buff cloak with a hood - the clothing of men up and working at this hour of the day. His palace finery left behind in his majestic apartment. At this hour and this occasion the stepson and daughter of the Emperor Acrilio must blend with the other citizens of Domarkia. Abreä said she would use her servant's clothes. Hericus was scanning the pathway along the meadow for her servant's usual outdoor garments: an olive green cloak, with a silver 'A' embroidered along the front. His brow furrowed as his emerald green eyes narrowed to the vanishing point of the footpath leading from the city. He picked out a dot, a moving dot. He directed Fureo towards it cautiously. If it wasn't her he'd need to make a rapid detour. The sun's rays behind him grew stronger as he and the dot got closer. In the distance he saw the city's walls; the tops of the buildings glistening.
He could make out the shape's movement and a current of recognition shot through him. He urged Fureo into a gallop. Under the green hooded cloak the face was in shade. But, the grace and purpose behind the walker's gait was unmistakably Abreä's. His hood flew back revealing a shock of black hair streaming back to his shoulder. Unfashionably so as most young men of eighteen had their hair cropped, military style. Her dimpled smile shone up at him fearlessly as he and Fureo thundered towards her and passed her on her left, making a skilful arc hehind and trotting along her right.
'Hello Herry. My he's fired up, ain't he?' She said, deeply amused at the excitement of both horse and rider.
'Glad your here, Abä,' said Hericus, drinking in her whole presence as he dismounted.
'Where's Arcanus?'
'Not far. She's waiting for you.'
'Do mean you've left her unattended? With all the thieves and outlaws in the forest?'
'We'll be there in a flash of thunder'
'Yes, I will be,' she said and nimbly climbed Fureo, urging him to a gallop, ‘In a flash of lightning.’
'Abä!' He shouted. She'd not gone far. She turned and he caught the wicked look in her eye.
'Well, you'd better get on board then, hadn't you?' she said as she stopped Fureo.
