Wampa looked a little surprised.
‘Master said as how you would be able to ride an all on account of you being a knight an all. You do be fooling with old Wampa, aren’t you?’ he paused and added in a despondant tone, ‘Aren’t you?’
‘No, sorry, I have never ridden before, never mind ever been a knight, I don’t know where your master got that idea from!’
‘Yes well, It isn’t often that he is wrong, but there it is, cannot always be right. I expect that he knew as how you would be a natural rider. I shall help you up into the saddle like and we’ll do famous.’
Wampa tethered his mount again and came to stand by the flank of Gerent’s beast. Gerent was not at all sure, even if this was a dream that he actually wanted to get up on the horse anyway. Wampa cupped his hands together and bent forward.
‘Now then put your foot in here master, - no master the other one otherwise you’ll end up riding backards. Now then up you go.’
Wampa pushed upwards on the underside of Gerent’s foot and Gerent found himself swinging his leg over the back of the horse and sitting, much to his surprise, in the saddle. The animal shifted a little under the weight and Gerent grabbed some of the mane to steady himself. Wampa, meanwhile adjusted the stirrups and then picked up the reins. He passed them over the animal’s head, gave them to Gerent and looked at him critically, head on one side.
‘Well I reckon as how you’ll do. Yes, you’ll do nicely.’ He glanced up at the dark clouds over the far hills. Gerent could tell he was anxious about them. ‘Us’d better be getting along, storm’ll be here afore dark,’ Wampa muttered as he went to mount his own horse. ‘I hopes as how we won’t be caught out in it. If we do I’ll be done for, the master’ll have me for toast!’ Then he added in a louder tone so that Gerent could hear, ‘If we can make the Falcon’s Wing tonight us’ll be dry. It is a fair ways, so off we go young master, nudge her in the sides like.’
Wampa spurred his own mount forward and Gerent’s mare followed before Gerent even attempted to apply Wampa’s advice. He felt as though he would fall off to one side at any moment. The horse’s movement was not one he was used to and wasn’t one he would pay to experience at a fair. Gerent wondered how he was able to dream in such detail getting even the feeling of the motion riding as well as the smell of horse. He soon decided that it was not a good idea to watch the ground passing beneath him as he began to feel a little queasy, so he lifted his head up to look toward the horizon. He noticed that Wampa kept glancing back at him as they progressed across the grassy field, dipping and rising as they crossed the shallow ditches in the earth. Wampa seemed satisfied with Gerent’s progress and safety on the horse. He pulled back level with Gerent.
‘I did know master couldn’t be wrong, a natural you be, a natural. Us be making for the road over there.’ He pointed ahead across another field, separated from the one they were in by a row of pollard willows along the bank of a ditch.
Gerent could see a green hedge running along the far field; it was higher than the field, almost as if it were on the top of a bank. He looked around him.
‘Why is it so flat and yet full of ditches? And why is that track higher than the fields?’
‘Oh well that do be because of the sea, and the rivers. See when the tides is in high like an the river’s high due the rain at the same time then these here fields do flood and it is only them there ditches as can take all the water. Afore they dug the ditches it was always a mess here, swampy and wet, no fit place to farm nor nothing. Down to the old master, master Zoy, it were.He said how it should be done, he had a power of learning. Any how, like he told them, they did build houses on the high spots and then built up lanes, like this one before us, to get between places. Then the fields were ditched and drained. Got some sluice gates here and there the help the flow of water and this saves many an area from being flooded out, it do. We still do have some bad floods mind, but not as often as we used to. When it rains, like it looks as if it will soon, and the tide is right, well folks here about do put the livestock in the barns and wait it out. It be why there is not any cattle here abouts now. All brung in see, ahead of the rain.’
Gerent, who was getting used to Wampa’s heavy accent, understood the majority of this lengthy explanation. He looked at the impending black clouds that did appear to have drawn nearer, though he was still in brilliant, warm sunshine. The ground around looked quite dry, the patch of earth that he could see in the gateway was cracked and dry, even the hedges seemed to be wilting for want of water. Gerent snorted, he did not think it would flood even if it did rain, it was so dry. Yet he was anxious not to be caught in a downpour, even in a dream.
‘How long will it be before we reach shelter?’ he asked, the motion of the riding was making his body ache.
‘The Falcon’s Wing? That’s a good three hour ride from here, if you could perhaps get the mare to go along bit faster us’ll be there afore the rain. When we are on the road lets see what you can do.’
They were not far from the hedge now and the ground had begun to rise. They approached a gap through which Gerent could see a dusty track running along the top of the bank.
‘The Falcon’s Wing, what is it?’ Gerent asked.
‘Oh it be a fine old inn, one of the best here abouts. Good ale and cyder! Awful long skittle alley they got, you should see it. And they do hansom grub too, master said as how we should stop for a bite, but in weather like that whats coming I expect he would want we should stay the night.’