Heror slept better that night, and the next day was a clear day.
He ate breakfast early, and at the pavilion, Adjaash was waiting for him. She made plans to take him back to the treeline once she was done gathering food and supplies in the forest. Heror sparred with the Midan soldiers again, teaching them the ways of sword fighting. In return, they taught him Midan words, which he regrettably forgot. When Adjaash returned to camp in the late afternoon, Heror went with her to the steppe. Again, he walked out into the fields and found the young black horse. And again, the horse stayed put when he approached, and allowed him to touch it. On the third day, Heror brought an apple to feed it. On the fourth, he spoke to it, and the horse came to greet him as he walked out.
On the fifth day, white and gray clouds rolled through in the late afternoon, striping a sky of blue and orange. And on this day, Heror and Adjaash stopped at the treeline, merely observing the roaming herds. They sat at the forest’s edge – Adjaash with her back settled against a tree trunk, and Heror sitting forward, arms crossed on his knees.
“What will you name him?” Adjaash asked, her long braid spilling over her shoulder with waves of color.
Heror glanced at the girl, to his left. He thought for a moment, biting his lip, then let out a short chuckle and shook his head.
“I haven’t thought about it yet.”
Adjaash pondered for a moment; her eyes lifted to the canopy edge, where green leaves caught rays of red and gold sun.
“You should name him Shaadur,” she told him. “It means ‘storm.’”
“‘Shaadur,’” Heror echoed, letting the name roll off his tongue. He liked it.
As it had each evening before, the wind raced from the open fields and intermingled with the leaves above. A steady hum resonated, swelling and sinking with the breeze.
“What’s your horse’s name?” Heror asked.
“Ashanji,” Adjaash replied. “It means ‘midnight’ in my home language.”
“Home language?” Heror extracted. “You’re not from Mide?”
There was a pause. Heror had only met one ashen elf before – Braylyn. And Braylyn hailed from the Kingdom of Charondor.
“Are you from Charondor?” Heror guessed.
Adjaash at first said nothing; it seemed from her expression that she regretted bringing about this topic. She opened her mouth and started to speak…
“… I’m from…”
But then she trailed off. Her throat clenched, and then she began fiddling with something strung around her neck by string and thread. As Heror looked closely, he saw that it was a necklace of some kind. He’d seen similar necklaces on the docks in Cephragon, worn by sailors. It was a shark tooth necklace, with thick and pointed denticles spaced evenly on both sides of the string. These teeth were darker and larger than the ones Heror remembered seeing in Cephragon, however – and at the bottom of the necklace, a small red-orange gemstone sat locked in an intricate rose gold metal casing, shaped like a sphere of branches and leaves.
Adjaash fiddled with this necklace for a moment longer. And then she blatantly deflected, trying to lighten her tone.
“Where are you from?”
Heror was naturally reluctant to answer, but Adjaash seemed curious. He took a deep breath and reached inside his tunic, retrieving his kinship cloth. He unrolled the cloth, and his eyes fell on the wolf – stitched together by threads of gray and white.
“I grew up in Ardys,” Heror answered simply.
“What’s it like there?”
Heror frowned and cleared his throat. The questions were testing him.
“I lived by the ocean,” he reflected, with a short pause. “The water was always nice.”
He stopped – he’d shared all the memories he wished to share – and then his eyes sank to the ground.
“I only grew up there, though. I was left there as a child, with this Pylanthean cloth. I…”
He paused. He didn’t want to reveal his trauma, but she was waiting for an answer.
“I never met my parents.”
As soon as he said it, he regretted saying it, and so he decided he was done talking. He rolled up the kinship cloth and slid it back inside his tunic, then lifted his gaze and watched as a sliver of sun peered through shaded clouds in the west. He was about to lose himself in this sight, when Adjaash spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
Heror looked at her, and for a moment, their eyes met. Her empathy took him by surprise – and then he looked away and shook his head again.
“It’s alright,” he told her. “Maybe I’ll find them one day.”
But this conversation took Heror’s mind away and sent it adrift. His eyes stared ahead – at everything and nothing all at once – until Adjaash spoke again.
“I’m from a place called Torwa,” she shared.
Heror glanced at her, his eyes prodding for more. He’d never heard of Torwa before. This, Adjaash could recognize.
“It’s not a part of Kivveneth,” she expanded. “It’s a place with mountains and jungle far to the southeast, across the Nebesaea – the ocean you call the Publaic.”
Heror looked at her for a moment, feeling awe simply at the existence of this place. But as he watched her eyes, he did not see the wonder he felt. He saw a different emotion.
“How did you end up here?” he inquired.
Adjaash took a breath – a hardened edge trapped inside her gaze. In the wind, the light danced ever so subtly inside her amber irises – like the billowing of a gale.
“I was young, and we were attacked,” she divulged. “I was captured and taken on a ship, as a prisoner. I escaped on a wooden lifeboat. Current took me here.”
Heror nodded, as a fascination began to brew. Most people he knew from Ardys would have credited the Gods for leading them along such a path. But for Adjaash, it was the current – the world itself. He didn’t know what she believed, but he appreciated what appeared to be the absence of blind faith or pride.
“What led you to join up with the Midans?” Heror asked.
“They pay me to find things,” Adjaash said simply, fiddling with a twine of grass in her hands.
“That’s where it starts and ends for you?”
Now Adjaash looked at Heror, giving him a smirk that was hard to read.
“What does it matter to you?” she quipped, raising an eyebrow.
“Well…” Heror replied. “Now that you don’t have a dagger to my neck, I’m curious.”
Adjaash let out a short laugh, then dropped the torn piece of grass and plucked another.
“Yes, that’s where it starts and ends for me.”
It was quiet for a spell, and then Adjaash adjusted her seating so she was facing Heror. Her back still against the tree, she shot a teasing smirk his way, as the ends of her hair flitted with each gust.
“And what about you?” she chimed. “Did you come here to join a revolution? Fight the ‘good fight?’”
Heror could sense light mocking in her voice. His first instinct was to feel defensive; in Ardys, he’d never been comfortable laughing at himself. But something in her tone caused him to brush away these feelings and smile small.
“Not at first,” he answered. “But now that I’m here, and now that I’ve been here… it does feel good to fight for something that matters.”
He paused, then eyed the girl.
“Is that naive?”
Adjaash kept her teasing grin, and there was a glint in her eyes as she glanced at Heror. She twisted another blade of grass within her fingers, letting its fibers flutter to the ground.
“Only a little.”
At dusk, the two returned to camp. Night fell. Morning came, and the next day, Heror and Adjaash met at the pavilion beneath a clear sky. They ate breakfast – eggs, fish, and a fermented milk treat the Midans called yugurt – and then Adjaash led Heror to the posts at the edge of the camp, where the remaining horses were leashed by ropes.
Adjaash first approached her horse, situated at the end – a jet black Tekhal mare with a long mane and lean legs. The young woman held out a carrot, which her horse gladly accepted, and then she patted the animal on its side.
“Pai koro, Ashanji,” she said in a hushed tone. “Pai.”
Now Adjaash turned and walked to the left of her horse, where a bundle of rope sat coiled on the ground. She picked up one band of rope and held it out for Heror to take. Heror grasped it in his right hand, feeling the grooves of cotton and hemp strands beneath his fingers.
“Horses are social animals,” Adjaash explained. “You’ve already established a bond with yours, so he shouldn’t struggle for too long. But this is for guiding him back to the camp. I will show you how to tie the knot.”
While Heror held one end of the rope, Adjaash uncoiled and loosened the slack, until she had the opposite end of the rope in her hands. She then made a small loop and overlapped, tightening a wide knot on her side.
“We each make an overhand knot on one side,” she elaborated. “Make a loop with your end and then pass the remaining slack through it.”
Heror did as he was told, and soon, he had a knotted hoop on his side of the rope. Adjaash nodded, then dropped her end of the rope to the ground.
“Now pull your knot through the opposite loop that I made on my side,” she went on. “Bring the length of the rope through, and tighten it to finish. And then you’ll have the proper knot.”
Heror grabbed the free end on the opposite side of the rope, and fed the cord through the loop. Once his knot was through, he pulled on both sides and tightened the knot until the opening closed, leaving a strong knot ahead of an encircled opening.
“Good,” Adjaash remarked. “Keep that here. You won’t need it today, but you’ll want to keep track of it. Now… onto the next task.”
After Heror coiled up the knotted rope and set it down, Adjaash led him past her horse again, to the next horse down – another mare of cream color, with a sandy blonde mane.
“Nariyu – one of the soldiers in our search party – offered to let you borrow his horse over the next few days. Her name is Kauta. She’s nice – don’t worry.”
Heror looked at the horse, then at Adjaash – then back at the horse.
“I’ve never mounted a horse before,” he told the girl, apprehension in his voice.
“It’s easy. Besides – it’ll only be me who sees you if you fall off.”
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“That’s one too many people.”
Adjaash smirked.
“You can relax for a minute,” she reassured him. “There are a few checks we have to make before we ride out. First…”
She walked around to the horse’s right side, and grabbed a leather strap that looped underneath the horse’s midsection – connected to the leather and hide saddle that sat on the horse’s back.
“… you’ll want to check the girth here to make sure it’s tightened,” she went on. “This is what keeps the saddle on your horse. Use your fingers to tuck underneath the girth and make sure there’s no loose space.”
She did the motion quickly, and then stepped back so Heror could do the task himself. With his left hand, he reached out and slid his fingers between the leather girth and the horse’s abdomen. He could only get his fingers to the first knuckle, before the space was gone.
“Seems tight enough,” he confirmed.
“Good,” Adjaash said. “Now, make sure the stirrups are in the right spot.”
She tugged at a leather strap hanging down the left side of the horse, which mirrored on the right side. At the bottom of the strap was the stirrup. The Midan stirrups were fashioned from old animal bone, contrasting from Ardysan leather – foot-width loops with flat bottoms, shaved down along the edges.
“The straps attached to the stirrups can be stretched out a bit, which is by design,” the girl went on. “You’ll want the stirrup to be at its lowest point as you start the mounting process. Now come this way.”
Adjaash went back to her horse Ashanji, and Heror followed. Once she reached her horse, Adjaash turned and glanced at Heror.
“I’ll show you how to mount. Watch what I do, and then you’ll get a chance to try it for yourself.”
Now she turned back to her horse. With her left hand, she grabbed a longer dark leather cord that hung loosely from the horse’s headpiece, connected to the bridle on either side of the horse’s hackamore.
“These are the reins. As you get better and more comfortable with horse riding, you’ll use these to steer and pace. For mounting, I grab both sides of the reins and clasp them together, and I grab a small clump of the horse’s mane as well, for more support. Don’t worry – it doesn’t hurt them. Then…”
Now that she had the reins and a tuft of horsehair within her fist, she stretched her left leg up and bent it at the knee, fitting her foot carefully into the stirrup.
“Step up into the stirrup with your left foot, going no further than the ball of your foot… and then…”
Once her foot was stable, she vaulted her right leg over the horse and sat firmly on the saddle. Then, she slid her right foot into the other stirrup, and spread the reins in each hand, loosely gripping her thumbs overtop. She brushed her hair back over her shoulder and gave Heror a smile.
“That’s all there is to it.”
“You see, just by saying that, you’re setting me up for failure,” Heror sighed.
“Maybe that was intentional,” Adjaash chimed with a shoulder shrug, before sliding off her horse.
Now Heror turned to the horse Kauta. He took a deep breath and sought out the stirrup with his fingers. Once he had it, he stretched the strap downward to lower it. Then he grabbed the reins and a tuft of horsehair, and lifted his left foot.
He wasn’t quite as flexible as Adjaash, and so for a moment, he struggled to find his balance. Soon enough, he was able to lodge his foot onto the stirrup by the toe. But with too much haste, he tried to hoist himself up. His toe slipped and he lost his leverage. Though he did not fall at first, the horse was startled by this sudden motion, and she jumped and jolted ahead. Heror’s toe lost its grip inside the stirrup, and his stomach lurched as he teetered and fell to the ground with a “whoaa!”, thumping his back against the dirt with a pained grunt.
Kauta stopped running as soon as she started and stared back at Heror – but was just as soon startled again when Adjaash snorted and erupted into laughter. Heror groaned and sat up, while Adjaash tried to catch her breath between light chortles. Heror winced at first, but managed a conceding smirk.
“Glad you enjoyed that,” he grumbled, brushing himself off.
“Very much so…” Adjaash managed through exhales, slurring: “I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly!”
Heror got back on his feet, and after a few more exhales, Adjaash – with a coy grin still on her face – grabbed Kauta’s reins and led the mare back to her post. She gave the horse a calming pat, then turned back to Heror.
“Make sure it’s the ball of your foot,” she advised. “Not the toe. The toe and the heel don’t give you enough stability. Your foot has to be balanced.”
Now Adjaash stepped back and allowed Heror another attempt. He started off as he had before – clasping the reins and a tuft of horsehair within his grasp – and then he lifted off and set his left foot inside the stirrup. The motion felt more natural to him now, and as soon as his foot landed, he centered it and found balance. Then, after a short breath, he vaulted over the same way Adjaash had earlier, and sat firmly on the saddle, sliding his right foot into the opposite stirrup. As he settled in, he felt the horse’s heavy breaths underneath him; it was a strange feeling.
“Good!” Adjaash exclaimed.
“What do I do now?” Heror asked dryly, confused as he held out his hands.
“Now you set your grip on the reins,” Adjaash replied, walking toward him again. “Even the reins out between your hands, and hold them in a loose fisthold, with your thumbs overtop – like this.”
She mimicked a grip for Heror to emulate, and now Heror did as she instructed. He evened the reins out between his hands so there was enough slack on either side, and then he adjusted his hand positioning, before securing his grip.
“A little too tight,” Adjaash advised. “Loosen your hands a bit.”
Adjaash reached up and guided Heror’s hands outward. Heror relaxed his fingers just a touch. Adjaash nodded with a small smile and lowered her hands again.
“That’s it.”
Now Adjaash loosed the rope that fastened Kauta to the post. Then she turned away from Heror and Kauta and returned to her horse Ashanji. Quickly, with muscle memory, she mounted her horse – vaulting over the barrel of the equine and setting her feet. Then she readied the reins. Once she was situated, she looked at Heror.
“I didn’t think you’d get this far,” she quipped. “Off to a good start.”
“Ha-ha,” Heror grumbled sarcastically, before asking: “What now?”
Adjaash grinned.
“Now we ride,” she answered. “The reins are for steering. When you want to go right or left, pull the reins outward in that direction. A longer pull means a sharper, more abrupt turn. A weaker pull means a more gradual turn. Keep your elbows tucked, and don’t pull back – only to the side. Pulling back is for when you need to stop your horse. Now, to start walking, it’s as simple as this: Gently squeeze the horse’s midsection with your feet.”
With her moccasins, Adjaash hugged Ashanji’s rib cage ever so subtly, and with a huff, the black horse began a slow walk. Heror looked on as Adjaash’s horse started toward the riverbank, and he tried for himself. With his light boots inside the stirrup, he squeezed Kauta’s midsection. Suddenly, he was on the move, too.
At first, Heror was startled by the abrupt motion – but he kept himself calm, knowing Kauta was skittish. He held the reins at the ready, and the horse followed Adjaash and Ashanji to the riverbank, walking the length of the post line. As they reached the gravel running beside the stream, Adjaash softly pulled her reins to the right, and her horse made a slight right turn. Heror watched as she did and followed suit, and soon, they were both traveling along the riverbank on horseback, toward the forest to the south.
Once they passed the forest line, Adjaash turned to the west. Heror followed, entering the thick of the trees. Cumulus clouds had since rolled in, and in the shade of the forest and overcast, the birds and crickets cooed and chirped. At first, the feeling of the horse’s haunches oscillating beneath him had unnerved Heror, but he was growing comfortable with it. And in the forest air, with the sounds of nature to calm him, he felt a sense of bliss riding atop the horse that he hadn’t felt in a long while.
They ventured through the forest and to the open steppes and plains in the west. There, Adjaash taught Heror how to direct his horse to turn, trot, and eventually gallop. Every now and then, Heror would pull the reins back too far while attempting to change directions, staggering his horse’s movements. But as he repeated the motions, he steadily learned how to steer and pace.
The next day, they returned to the fields by late morning. They rode the length of the forest line, drifting through sporadic herds of gazelle. The day after that, they went back again. Three days later, they raced to the forest’s edge. Adjaash won, but Heror made it close. The next two days Adjaash spent teaching Heror roping technique.
Soon – roughly a week later – it was time.
It was another clear day. Adjaash and Heror rode out to the treeline and surveyed the steppes. Adjaash brought her own rope, to serve as backup in case Heror couldn’t tame the horse himself – but she would let him have the first try. They waited until sunset, when the herds of wild horses grazed. And then Heror searched for his horse Shaadur. It didn’t take long for him to spot the young horse’s smoky coat and silver-gray mane, as it pranced around with a foal in the evening sunlight.
Once he saw his horse, Heror rode out into the fields with Kauta. He tucked the rope’s slack underneath his left elbow like Adjaash had taught him. And with his right, he choked the bottom of the lasso loop, keeping his wrist loose.
As he neared Shaadur, the young horse noticed him. It turned to face him, ears perked and eyes wide, while the foal left to find its mother. Heror led Kauta toward the young horse in a steady trot, then sped up to a canter with a quick nudge of his shins.
At this, Shaadur was prompted to run. The young horse let out a quick neigh and whirled around to the south, whisking through the olive grass. Heror gave chase, and with another light kick of his heels, Kauta reached a hastened gallop.
Hooves clopping through the soil and grass, the two horses seared through the steppes at high speeds – Heror leaning forward as he pressed on. Shaadur was fast, but Kauta was, too – and after a short straight-line chase, Shaadur made a sharp left turn, then doubled back to the north. Heror pulled left, and Kauta mirrored the young horse’s turn, right on its heels. Now they were close to the treeline again, closing back in on Adjaash’s position – and Heror had an opportunity.
As the trees whizzed by to his right, Heror brought up the rope with his right arm and started to widen the loop with his wrist. Shaadur was straight ahead, and Heror let the rope fly, flicking it in a flash. The rope fluttered in the air and shot past Shaadur, and almost came down over his ears – but the young horse was crafty and quick to react, and he ducked his head and jolted to the left, side-stepping the lasso. The rope brushed by his muzzle and fell harmlessly into the grass.
Heror let out a small curse and tried to reel the rope back in, but his grip on the reins weakened, and Kauta slowed and came to a stop. Feeling a low panic, Heror dragged the rope back with forceful tugs – but the horse Shaadur was starting to pull away. Adjaash saw that Heror was struggling, and now she entered the chase.
As Shaadur approached her position – not noticing her in the forest brush – Adjaash suddenly rode out with Ashanji, startling the young horse and flushing him back out into the fields. She glanced back down the treeline and shouted out to Heror.
“When you’re ready!!” She yelled, voice carrying in the breeze.
As Adjaash raced after Shaadur, Heror nodded and calmed himself with a deep breath, then turned his attention back to the rope. He fixed his grip and coiled the rope at a faster pace, until he had most of the slack underneath his right arm. Now he fastened his grip on the reins again and made sure his feet were firmly planted inside the stirrups. Then, at last, he squeezed Kauta’s ribcage with his shins and flicked the reins.
“Yagh!”
Now Kauta started off again. Heror gave her a couple more nudges to get back up to speed – and soon, he was riding into the plains once more. He could see Adjaash and Ashanji in the distance, underneath the amber light of the sun, as Shaadur swam through the low-sloping waves of olive grass at lightning speed. This horse was fast, and it had stamina – but Heror had an idea.
“Adjaash!” he shouted as he slowly closed the gap. “Get outside him!”
Adjaash heard his command in the distance behind her, and she nodded to herself with a grin. Hot on the horse’s heels, she urged Ashanji to reach her top speed, and then she skewed the rein to the right just a touch. The horse Shaadur was fast, but Ashanji was faster, and Adjaash was able to get up alongside him and flank him on the right. Once the young horse noticed, he let out a light whinny and turned back to the left. As he turned, however, he saw Heror and Kauta closing in from that direction.
Now Shaadur bolted back to the west – but Heror and Adjaash were close in pursuit on their horses, side by side. All three at full speed, they dashed through the fields, olive grass brushing against their feet as they went on, wind and air flowing across their faces, as if in a clear-skied storm.
“First shot is yours!” Adjaash exclaimed to Heror. “Take the lead!”
Now Adjaash peeled off and got behind the line, and Heror surged ahead on the back of his horse – pulse hastened by the rhythm of horse hooves, hair dancing in the breeze. This time, he hugged Kauta with his ankles and rose ever so slightly off of the saddle to get more leverage with his toss, awash in the rushing of the wind. Shaadur was directly ahead, pressing forward in a mindless gallop – but he was starting to slow just enough for Heror to get within range.
Heror came into a steady focus. He brought the rope up again in his right hand, and started to widen the loop with his wrist. And in one rapid, crisp motion, he sent the rope aloft. Its pace was quicker this time, and its placement more precise. And just as Shaadur saw the golden straw swooping in over his head and started to attempt an escape, Heror suddenly pulled back on the rope.
All at once, the rope constricted back and rolled past Shaadur’s head. It tightened around his chest, just before his forelegs. Shaadur tried to divert left to break free, but the rope was fastened now, and he bucked in a fleeting gesture while Heror kept his grip strong. After a short moment of resistance, Shaadur slowed from a gallop to a canter, and from a canter to a trot. And then he stopped to catch his breath, inside the grasp of Heror’s rope.
The air calmed as Heror too slowed to a halt, and soon enough, Adjaash rode up alongside him. And they led the horse Shaadur back to camp, as the sun set at their backs.