the saddle to take some weight off her horse’s neck. With perfect timing the animal made the leap. The thunderous sound of his hooves ceased as he took to the air. They struck the ground and the thunder returned. Louisa eased back on the reins as she turned to look behind her. When she saw Stratton she suddenly grew concerned that she had gone too far.
Stratton had not yet seen the chine but he had not missed seeing Louisa’s horse take to the air. By the time he spotted the jagged cut in the cliff it was too late to do anything, even if he could have. His horse was the master of the moment. All he could do was hold on tight.
Time seemed to slow for him at that point. The sound of his horse’s hooves grew muffled as every metre of ground ahead came into sharp focus. The horse jolted as it prepared to jump. Stratton loosened the reins to allow the animal the freedom to do what it needed. As the gap approached Stratton’s feeling of tension soared. The horse brought up its front legs and Stratton’s head went down alongside the animal’s neck.
As they jumped Stratton found himself looking down into the void. He was aware only of a vast emptiness below.
The horse landed hard and threw Stratton further forward. He almost lost his seat but regained it as the horse’s rear quarters dropped, its legs sliding beneath it, its hocks hitting the ground. Stratton grabbed its withers instinctively but could not keep his grip. Indeed, his instincts warned him not to. He slid off the horse’s side as the beast bounced back to its feet and he struck the ground hard, rolling a couple of times before coming to a stop.
The animal trotted off, shaking its head and snorting irritably. For a moment Stratton lay where he had landed, wondering if he had sustained any damage. He sat up slowly and removed his carbine from where it was slung on his back. Earth filled its muzzle where it had dug into the ground and he gritted his teeth irritably as he knocked the soil out.
Louisa walked her horse up to him. ‘You okay?’ she asked. ‘You did well.’
He looked up at her as he got to his feet, scowling angrily. But she just laughed at him.
‘You think that was funny?’
‘Yes, I do, actually.’
Stratton felt the anger beginning to well up inside him. His treasured composure was cracking. He did not like to be laughed at. ‘You stupid prat.’
Louisa stopped laughing but kept a broad grin on her face. ‘Temper, temper.’
‘I suggest you take a closer look around you and appreciate where you are.You’re a long way from your high-class college, playing your silly girly games.’
She tried to hold her smile but Stratton’s words stung. ‘You’re not just angry about falling off your horse?’
‘No, I’m not. I don’t appreciate being mocked by an immature princess like you. You’re in the real world here - one of the darker parts of it, at that - where actions and words can have serious consequences. Do yourself a favour and grow up.’
‘You think I don’t know where I am?’ Louisa retorted, her own anger surfacing. She jumped off her horse, stormed over to a heap of brush like the ones along the edge of the cliff that they had dodged around and pulled a section away to reveal a large wooden crate. She removed the heavy lid with some difficulty to uncover a huge coil of knotted climbing rope.
‘This cliff acts as a boundary for almost half the camp,’ she said. ‘We can only be attacked from one direction. But if we had to escape, the cliff would make it difficult for us.This rope reaches to the bottom. There are over a dozen of them.’
‘Whose idea was that?’
‘Mine,’ she said, looking smug.
‘You plan to get a couple of thousand people down a dozen ropes during a gun battle?’ Stratton asked as he stepped over to the chine to look down.
‘It’s only intended as a last-ditch escape route.’
‘Six hundred feet?’
‘At least some of us could get away.’
‘In the rain, at night? What about the women and children? The elderly? The wounded? And you think the men will leave without their families?’
The confident expression left Louisa’s face.
‘You set a camp with its back to a cliff you’d better plan to stand and fight,’ Stratton said, walking away. ‘Stick to ironing your father’s shirts.’
Louisa clenched her jaw, wanting to protest against his