The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga, #1) - G.A Aiken Page 0,42
between the centaur and the horse he refused to ride.
“You do understand,” she clarified, “that we don’t have time to walk to our destination, don’t you?”
“Yes. So I’ll—”
“What? Go as your true self? Even when we pass towns and cities? Does that really make sense to you? We were lucky we made it through the first time, and we didn’t pass any towns on the way here.” She held the reins close to his face. “We don’t have time to argue about this! Get on the fuckin’ horse!”
Growling, Caid snatched the reins from her grasp. “I won’t use that saddle. Just a blanket.”
“Fine. But with you in a kilt, the inside of your thighs will be less than happy over the next few days.”
“Then make it a soft blanket!”
Keeley quickly made herself busy removing the saddle from Brim. A good, solid gelding that was easy to handle and wouldn’t feel the need to compete with a very stallion-like centaur. She kept her head down so Caid wouldn’t see her laughing. She knew he wouldn’t like it.
His sister came out from the castle and stopped when she saw her brother holding Brim’s reins.
“Oh,” she said. “We’re riding them.”
Still laughing, but also fed up, Keeley turned on the female centaur.
“We have no choice! Are you two kidding me?”
“I was just asking!” Laila snapped. “No need to get hysterical.”
“I’m not hysterical. I’m just . . . confused! No one’s asking you two to eat one! Just fucking ride the thing!”
She pulled the saddle off. “This is Brim,” she told Caid. “And that’s Frannie,” she told Laila. “Good, solid horses that will give you no problems as long as you both don’t act like wankers!”
Laila cleared her throat. “Well . . . thank you.”
Samuel rushed out of the stables with three more horses.
“What are you doing?” Keeley asked him.
“My horse and Sir Gemma’s horses.”
“Sir Gemma can take one horse.” She looked at the three who were currently making her life difficult. “Do any of you understand what we’re doing here? We’re not going into battle,” she snapped at Samuel. “And you’re not making a moral statement,” she informed the siblings. “So cut the shit!”
“Gods bless all of you!” Gemma happily announced from the courtyard steps, and it took all of Keeley’s strength not to fling a sword at her. Just on principle.
Instead, she said, “You’re bringing one horse. And why are you wearing those stupid white robes again?”
“You want me to travel as a War Monk? We lose the element of surprise.”
Now Keeley was just extremely annoyed. By everyone. So she pushed her father’s saddle into Samuel’s arms. “Let’s try this again, shall we?” She pointed at Samuel. “We’re not going into battle.” Then the centaurs. “You’re not making a moral statement.” And now her sister. “And we’re not dawdling our way to the Amhuinn Valley where people will have time to notice that you’re a nun, decide to attack, and then shock! ‘Oh, no! She’s a War Monk! Run for your lives!’ What we are doing is riding, with purpose, for long hours a day. We will only stop at night. Then start again before the suns rise. We will do this again and again, until we reach the valley. Does everyone understand? Do I need to make it any clearer?”
When no one said anything, Keeley nodded. “Good. I’ll go get Beatrix.”
“She’s not inside,” Gemma told her, but only when Keeley was halfway up the courtyard steps.
“Then where is she? Did we lose her already?”
“I’m right here,” Beatrix soothed as she swept in through the gates. She wore a lush green velvet gown with a fur cape over her shoulders. Already she seemed . . . royal. Like she was already imagining the crown on her head.
Keeley frowned. “What were you doing out there?”
“Taking a small morning walk. I do it every morning—you know that.”
“No one was hunting you before,” Gemma coldly reminded her.
“I didn’t go far. I would have been able to run back. I just needed to stretch my legs before I get on my horse.”
Keeley reached her sister, brushing her hair off her face. “Sure you weren’t trying to escape? I’d totally understand,” she teased in a whisper.
“Not at all.”
“Then why were you—” Before Keeley could finish, she saw the gray mare go up on her hind legs.
Keeley pushed Beatrix behind her and turned to see Samuel stumble back, her saddle in his arms.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“I was just trying to put your saddle on your horse and—”