Pegasus - By Robin McKinley Page 0,16

I bet even Ahathin would tell you.”

Sylvi had not dared ask Ahathin, but she had asked Danacor. Her eldest brother was hopelessly solemn and dutiful and responsible, but he didn’t like Fthoom any better than any of the rest of them did.“Oh, that old story,” he said.“Yes, it’s true enough, but—” He hesitated, and Sylvi held her breath, because Danacor, as the king’s heir, knew all the best stories, and occasionally was still young enough to tell them.“ The real scandal is that Hirishy was bound to Mum in the first place. When it’s just sovereign-heir to sovereign-heir, like Thowara and me, it’s easy. But when it’s half a dozen girls, five of whom will be farmers or soldiers and the sixth will marry the king, you’re supposed to try to make some attempt to match personalities. By the time Mum was twelve she already had her first war-horse, you know? And they bound her to Hirishy?”

Sylvi was troubled by this story. She liked Hirishy—liked her, not the way she liked Thowara or Lrrianay, but almost as she might like another human. She had once been trying to say something to her, something about the way families behaved and how you loved them even when you wanted to kill them—it had been a day when her brothers had been especially exasperating—which was a lot more complicated than she was used to saying in her own language, let alone to a pegasus. She had no idea why she had been trying to do something so bizarre, and so doomed to failure. But there was something about the way Hirishy seemed to listen. It drew Sylvi on. She’d stumbled to the end of her signing and stopped, feeling a fool... and Hirishy had put her nose to Sylvi’s temple, like a kiss from her mother, and left her.

Sylvi had slowly put her hand to the place Hirishy’s nose had touched. That had been almost as strange as what had gone before: you didn’t touch the pegasi, and they didn’t touch you. She thought it was probably a good rule; if it weren’t positively forbidden, the urge to stroke the shining glossy pegasi would probably be overwhelming. She was sure that a pegasus flank would make the sleekest silkhound feel as rough as straw; but the pegasi were a people, like humans, and must be treated with respect. (And you mustn’t ever, ever ride a pegasus, which was the first thing that every human child, royal or not, on meeting or even seeing its first pegasus, wanted to do.) Sylvi had been very young when she had realised you had to be more careful of the pegasi because the humans were dominant: because the pegasi came to the human king’s court, and the pegasus king stood behind the human king’s shoulder. But Hirishy had touched her.

She had in fact three times touched Hirishy. She didn’t remember the first time: her mother had told her about it. She had grabbed a handful of Hirishy’s forelock when Hirishy had bent a little too low over the baby lying on the queen’s bed, and rubbed her face against Hirishy’s velvet nose.“You were too little to understand about kissing, but kissing is still clearly what you were doing!” The queen, both laughing and horrified, rescued Hirishy—but not before Hirishy had kissed the princess back.

And it had been Hirishy who’d come to stand beside her the day that Sylvi had slipped and fallen on the Little Court steps when she was supposed to be processing with the rest of her family. It had been one of the first occasions when Sylvi had been deemed old enough—and in her case, more crucially, big enough—and sensible enough to be in the royal procession. And then she had managed to trip—by catching her foot on a bulge of hastily taken-up hem—and fall. She landed hard and painfully, but was up again so quickly that her mother only glanced at her and the ceremony wasn’t quite spoilt—Sylvi hoped. She knew she was walking stiffly, because what she wanted to do was limp, but she told herself it wouldn’t show under the heavy robe she was wearing. If it had been less heavy, there wouldn’t have been a bulge to catch her foot.

But when they’d come to the end of the court and turned to stand in the great arched doorway, while the magicians chanted and waved their incense around and the royal family wasn’t the centre of attention for a moment, Hirishy

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