Chapter 4: Getting Back Up
****
A few weeks later, Aliss was combing the castle, trying to find Princess Loisette.
The girl had always disappeared frequently. That alone was not out of the ordinary. Normally, however, Aliss was able to find her without too much effort. She would usually find Loisette under a table in the library reading a book . . . or in an abandoned part of the dungeon practicing her penmanship . . . or in one of half a dozen other nooks and crannies in the castle trying to decipher a map or befriend some downtrodden rat or catch a nap. Sometimes, the girl would even merely wander around, as if looking for a part of the castle she had somehow left unexplored. Aliss was only thankful that Loisette didn’t know the location of any of the castle’s secret passageways.
Aliss suspected the princess was searching for adventure (and perhaps answers) within the castle walls. But the adventures she read about in her storybooks were not likely in such a closeted world as the princess endured. Though Aliss hated the thought of her being in danger, she found herself wishing Loisette could have one--very small--adventure before becoming queen. Her mother, after all, had had many in her youth, and an adventure could perhaps serve to connect Loisette with the wisp of a figure she could barely remember but yearned so deeply to know.
But maybe Loisette’s world was finally expanding. As of late, Aliss had found her only infrequently in the castle, and she thought maybe the princess was finally exploring the outside world. But she did wish Loisette would take her latest lady-in-waiting with her (though how long this lady-in-waiting would last was probably measured in days rather than months). Aliss worried about the princess being alone. There was no telling how many gray hairs Aliss had received from dealing with the girl--after all, if there was one thing Loisette was good at, it was creating trouble when she couldn’t find it.
Still--the princess always came back unharmed. Aliss was probably worrying about nothing. Perhaps Peri knew what Loisette was doing in the great world outside the castle . . . .
Well, whatever it was, maybe it would help increase Loisette’s appetite and take the pallor from her skin. All that mattered to Aliss was that the princess was happy and healthy.
She decided to quit her search, telling herself she was worrying without cause. The princess was simply out having fun--there was no need for Aliss to give herself another gray hair over that. But she smiled to herself at the thought. She wouldn’t trade any of those gray hairs--or her time with Loisette--for all the magic in the world.
****
Loisette walked into the stable and smiled when she saw Clarkent. She stood there watching him as he groomed Esroh Repus, and then she stepped forward.
“Hi,” she said, suddenly feeling shy.
He turned and looked at her. “Hi,” he returned with a smile.
That smile filled Loisette with warmth. “Do you need some help?” she asked him hopefully.
He shook his head, watching as he stroked the brush across Esroh Repus. “That’s all right.”
She looked down at her hands. “I’d . . . like to.”
The stableboy turned toward her and tilted his head, searching her face for something. “If you really want to.” He made a gesture with his head.
Grabbing some grooming tools, he led her to a brown and white horse. “This is Agides,” he told her.
“Hi, Agides,” she greeted, reaching a hand out and petting his nose. The horse twisted his neck slightly and looked at her with a big brown eye, and she smiled.
The stableboy handed her a comb, and she looked at it. “What’s this called?”
“It’s a curry comb,” he told her. “It loosens dirt. You move it in circles all over Agides’s body.”
She reached out, slowly and gently rubbing the comb in a circle.
Clarkent put his hand over hers. “You’re being too gentle--you won’t get any dirt out.” He then guided her hand with his in a more vigorous fashion. “You just have to be careful about shoulders, hips, legs, and the stomach. You brush lighter there.” He released his hand from hers and let her continue.
Loisette smiled as she continued with her task. The horse, Agides, simply stood in place, occasionally swishing his tail. Excited about doing something new, she determined to get the stableboy to teach her the other steps of grooming.
****
After learning about grooming, the princess seemed eager to be taught other tasks, so Clarkent taught her how to put on a saddle.
Her face turned red as she lifted the saddle and saddle blanket--which together probably amounted to about a quarter of her weight--and she hoisted it on to High Flyer.
“You put it on the wrong way,” Clarkent said, trying to hide his smile.
She turned to him, looking utterly disheartened. “I did?”
He suddenly felt bad about teasing her. “No--I’m sorry. I was just . . . never mind.” He swallowed and walked toward the saddle. “Now, you’re supposed to put this higher than it’s going to be, as it will shift into the right place and all the hairs will lie flat. That makes it more comfortable for the horse. There . . . that’s right. Well done.”
She smiled at his praise.
“Now, you put the stirrup back up here so it won’t get in your way. Then you fasten the girth straps.”
A few minutes later, High Flyer was properly saddled, his girth straps having been tightened sufficiently.
“Good job,” Clarkent told her.
She practically beamed at him. “Thank you!” She turned and rubbed High Flyer’s nose. “And thank you for being so patient with me, High Flyer.”
Clarkent smiled, remembering the haughty waif who had first appeared in the stable. Who would’ve thought she would want to learn more than just riding? Maybe the princess wasn’t so bad.
****
Several minutes later, High Flyer walked onto the open field, and Loisette admired his smooth strides. “You’re a good horse,” she told him.
The horse flicked his ears, and Loisette frowned. “His ears are twitching,” she commented.
The stableboy looked over High Flyer. “It’s because you’re talking,” he told her. “Horses automatically move their ears in the direction where sound is coming from. To listen to different sounds with different ears, they can even move their ears independently.”
Loisette frowned and then stuck one hand on the left side of High Flyer and leaned her head to the right side. Simultaneously, she snapped her fingers and said the horse’s name. She smiled as his ears twitched in opposite directions, and she glanced over at Clarkent. “You know a lot about horses, don’t you?”
He gave her a half smile. “It’s my job.”
Nodding, she turned her eyes back to High Flyer, and she patted his neck. She was growing to really love the horse. Guiding him gave her a sense of control, yet it was also almost like a partnership. She relied on him just as much as he relied on her.
She had been avoiding the outside world for so long that she had forgotten how wonderful it was. Being outside of the castle was freeing--she wasn’t confined or constantly watched, and she was able to look up at the sky and imagine what it would be like to fly.
She also had to admit that it was nice to be around someone her age. The stableboy Clarkent made her feel less like royalty and more like a human being. Though she spent most of her time outside exploring the region surrounding the castle--and only spent an hour or two a day with the stableboy (knowing he had work to do)--being around Clarkent for even that long was enough to lift her spirits. She was able to take comfort from the simple act of napping beneath a tree or watching a family of rabbits play cautiously in the grass. A life of books alone was no life at all--it had to be balanced with physical activity and an appreciative view of the outside world. And it felt good to be around someone who seemed to like her--someone who wasn’t just helping her because he had to.
She turned her eyes down to High Flyer’s neck, realizing with some surprise that she had even grown to love the smell of the stable. It was refreshing to someone more accustomed to the perfumes of ladies at court. After riding in quiet contemplation for a few more minutes, Loisette turned to her human companion. “How am I doing now?” The stableboy didn’t know it, but the question was an important one--and not because she valued his opinion (which, she realized, she oddly enough *did* value).
Clarkent, oblivious to her thoughts, smiled at her. “I am impressed, Your Highness.”
She laughed. “I am an expert now, you mean!”
“Something like that, Your Highness,” he murmured, his dark eyes dancing with amusement.
She smiled sweetly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
He gave her a questioning look, suddenly wary.
“It means I should finally be allowed to race!” she exclaimed. She had been looking forward to racing ever since had gotten up on High Flyer . . . . Well, after she had gotten over her initial fright, that was.
The stableboy’s uneasiness was almost palpable. “Princess, I don’t think--”
“Come on! You said you were impressed with me.” She had to resist from slicing the air with her whip in frustration. If she couldn’t race, then she would certainly burst!
“Yes, but--”
“Please,” she begged, staring at him pleadingly. She *had* to feel the wind through her hair and the heavy beats of the horse beneath her. She had to feel alive.
****
It was her wide brown eyes that did him in. She looked so sad and pitiful, and Clarkent melted. “All right,” he conceded with a sigh.
He had been around the princess far too much if she was able to break his defenses so easily. She had been coming to the stable almost every day, and he had really looked forward to their rides together. As one of the older stableboys, it was his job to help give lessons to prospective riders. However, since the princess was such a quick study, the lessons had quickly dissolved into outings.
Billy had commented that he had much prefer Clarkent be the one to ride with the princess, as she was feisty enough that he wanted no part in it. The other stableboys had heard many stories about the princess’s petulance, and they had agreed with Billy’s sentiments. Only Geralph seemed unhappy that Clarkent was hobnobbing with royalty, and he’d made a nasty comment about Clarkent shirking off work to lick the princess’s boots.
As an older stableboy, Clarkent was allotted some time off during the week. Since his outings with the princess typically didn’t occur during that time, he came in during those hours to work. Even during his regular hours, he worked harder than ever before, not wanting there to be any truth to Geralph’s belief that he was getting less work done. Dwayne made no comments one way or the other, perhaps realizing that a happy princess made for a happier stable. In any case, the stable’s upkeep did not suffer in the slight.
The princess perked up at Clarkent’s concession that they race, and she exclaimed, “Wonderful!” She looked around for a second and then pointed. “I will race you to that tree!”
And then, without even saying “go,” she was off. Her horse broke into a trot and then a spirited canter, and Clarkent was staring after them for a second before he spurred Esroh Repus on.
High Flyer loved speed, but perhaps he understood the novice nature of his rider, as he wasn’t giving it his all. Such meant that Clarkent was able to bring Repus up beside her, and for that, he was glad. What they were doing was making him nervous.
The princess glanced over at him in surprise, obviously upset to have lost her advantage. “You are a good horse-handler,” she commented breathlessly.
Clarkent simply smiled. Repus stretched out his neck and pulled ahead of High Flyer by a nose. Clarkent, pleased with his horse, smirked.
“You are not winning that easily,” Loisette muttered under her breath as she urged her horse to break into a full gallop.
He laughed, only to smile a little harder when he saw that the princess was fighting a grin of her own. And then Esroh Repus was right beside High Flyer again, his hooves making gouges in the ground beneath him.
“It’s almost like flying,” Clarkent called out to her.
“You think *this* is flying? I’ll show you flying!” Loisette exclaimed.
And then High Flyer began moving even faster, his mane whipping back with the wind as he did what he loved best: run.
But Clarkent’s mood abruptly darkened as High Flyer put on another burst of speed. A large rock loomed ahead, almost entirely covered by tall grass, and Clarkent realized that High Flyer intended to jump it. The princess, who was too busy laughing, didn’t see it. “Pull to the right!” he shouted.
But she simply turned to look at him in confusion, and then it was too late.
The horse leapt over the rock, clearing it easily. But his rider, unprepared for the jolting motion, was flung through the air and landed in a heap on the ground.
Clarkent choked out a noise that only vaguely resembled the word “no,” and he jerked back on Esroh Repus’s reins and leapt off him.
The realization roared through his mind--he’d killed the princess!
He rushed toward her body and dropped down beside her, the story of Gareth flashing briefly into his head. “Princess,” he whispered, his voice breaking.
When a groan was emitted by the crumpled princess, he nearly cried in relief. And then, as he helped the girl sit up, he realized that she *was* crying.
“Are you okay, Your Highness?” he asked her, afraid to touch her anymore lest he cause her more pain.
Princess Loisette nodded, but her eyes were still tearing up, and she didn’t speak.
“I’ll help you get back to the castle,” he told her. “Then I’ll worry about the horses.”
The princess wiped her eyes on her sleeve and then looked at him. “No,” she whispered with a strange firmness.
Clarkent furrowed his brow. “Princess--”
“I’m not going back to the castle right now.” Her voice was as hard as the rock that had almost killed her. “I have been afraid of everything for too long. I’m getting back on the horse.”
“I don’t--” he began, but a glare from the princess caused him to cut off.
Clarkent watched as she got shakily to her feet. He tried to reach an arm out to help her, but she pushed it away. She turned to look at High Flyer, who had stopped running and was now grazing several yards away.
Clarkent gave a loud whistle, and the horse came trotting over obediently. Rather than appearing sheepish, High Flyer just seemed bored. Clarkent narrowed his eyes . . . but reminded himself it was a horse. He couldn’t expect High Flyer to react like a human. The horse didn’t know he had done anything wrong.
Hobbling, the princess managed to walk over to her mount. Once there, however, she ran into a problem. She turned to Clarkent and bit her lip. She obviously didn’t want to ask for the help she needed.
Clarkent quietly walked up behind her and held his arms out. She turned around with a nod, and he put his hands around her slender waist and lifted her up sideways. She managed to scramble up onto the horse with a quick intake of breath, and he brought his arms back down.
Refraining from commenting on her pain, Clarkent cast his eyes about in hunt of her whip. After a little searching, he found where it had been tossed into the tall grass, and he walked with it to the princess. He held it up to her, and she took it with a mumbled expression of gratitude.
There was a strange sort of pressure in his chest. He didn’t like this. For reasons he couldn’t comprehend, he felt an overwhelming urge to protect the princess. She seemed so frail and so detached from the world . . . . But he could also remember that fire he had seen in her when she told the story of Gareth and Gawain. She was a bundle of contradictions, an utter enigma.
Clarkent mounted Esroh Repus, who hadn’t moved since Clarkent had jumped off him. Taking in a deep breath, Clarkent looked at the princess with worry. “Maybe . . . ” he began hesitantly, “ . . . umm, maybe you should ride a different horse.”
She stared at him, and it was obvious she knew what he was thinking. She knew he was trying to protect her from being hurt. Pointedly, she looked down at her horse and--with a kick and a flick--brought him first to a walk, then to a trot, then to a canter, and finally to a gallop. She raced off, calling back after him, “Catch me if you can, Clark!”
He sat there in bewilderment for a handful of moments. She had called him “Clark” rather than “Clarkent.” He’d never had any sort of nickname before, and while “Clark” was simply a shortened form of his name, he liked it.
Kicking his horse, Clarkent brought Repus after her. He noticed she clutched the front of her saddle with one hand this time, wary about falling off again. He suddenly felt awful about insisting she ride sidesaddle. Maybe she wouldn’t have fallen off High Flyer if she had been riding astride like a man.
“Hyah!” he said with a grunt, urging Repus to go faster. The horse obeyed, stretching his neck forward.
The princess twisted to look at him, and as she realized how far behind he was, she smiled, and her laughter floated back to Clarkent. Something inside him loved the sound.
But it wasn’t long before the princess brought her horse to a halt, and in puzzlement he pulled up beside her. Standing in front of her was Peri. But what was interesting to Clarkent was the black-headed bird perched on Peri’s shoulder.
It was a Peregrine Falcon, that much was clear, but it had neither jesses on its legs nor a hood on its head. Instead, it seemed perfectly content to sit where it was.
“Good day,” Peri greeted them. “Your Highness--please . . . call me ‘Peri.’”
The princess gave him a weird look but nodded.
Seeing Clarkent staring at the bird, Peri noted, “This here is James. He’s a good friend of mine.”
The bird opened his mouth and made a small chattering noise, and Clarkent frowned. It had almost seemed like the bird had understood him.
Peri turned to the princess. “Are you all right, Your Highness? We saw you fall.”
“I’m fine,” she answered, her face tight.
Peri tilted his head, obviously not believing her. He lifted a hand and beckoned for her to come down off her horse.
There was a stubborn look on her face, but Peri met it with a look just as stubborn, and she sighed, giving up. She glanced tentatively at Clarkent for assistance. He dropped down off his horse and moved to help her. He reached up to get her, and she fell forward into his arms. His knees bent a little at the suddenness of her weight, but he was able to set her on the ground gently.
Peri stared at her expectantly, and she walked with reluctance over to him. She was still shaky on her feet, and it was obvious she was under some pain.
His brow furrowed, Peri pulled a palm-sized pouch out from underneath his cloak. He opened the pouch and brought out a small white flower. “Here,” he told the princess, handing it to her after squeezing it gently in his fist. “Eat this. It’ll help with any injuries.”
Clarkent was a bit uneasy that Peri was feeding strange things to the princess, but--for some odd reason--he trusted the man.
The princess looked down at the flower with an uncertain expression and then quickly thrust it into her mouth. She made a face as she chewed and then swallowed. “It’s bitter,” she complained.
Peri laughed. “Often, what’s good for us isn’t something we want. Medicine seems to especially suffer from that problem. They say the more foul-tasting the medicine, the more beneficial for you it is.”
James opened his beak and let out a sort of “rep rep” noise, and the princess smiled at him. “Did you think that was funny?” she asked him.
He made a different noise, and the princess frowned this time. “It almost sounded like you said ‘yes.’ But that’s silly . . . . ”
Clarkent didn’t miss the look Peri gave her, though he didn’t know what it meant. Clarkent felt like there was something going on he didn’t understand, but he didn’t even know how to begin going about understanding it.
The princess turned to the gray-headed man. “I feel better already,” she admitted.
“Good,” he replied with a smile. “Then I’ll, uh, say goodbye to you both here. Try to be more careful.”
As he turned, the falcon lifted up off his shoulder and flew several feet above his head, once again making the “rep rep” sound.
Clarkent and the princess watched the two leave. Frowning in contemplation, Clarkent reflected that he was almost certain he had seen that bird before. There were a lot of birds out there, so it was possible he was imagining it, but James really did seem familiar . . . .
He shrugged the mystery away and then turned to the princess. “Would you like to get back on High Flyer, Your Highness?”
She nodded. “Yes. I would.”
****
Chapter 4 Glossary
Horse Gaits: Horses have four types of gaits. In order of speed, they are the walk, the trot, the canter, and the gallop. The trot is a stable two-beat gait, but it is not necessarily the most comfortable for beginning riders.
Jess: Jesses are thin straps of leather attached to falcons’ legs. A jess can be held on to by the falconer to prevent the bird from chasing something it shouldn’t.
Falcon Hood: Hoods are placed on falcons’ heads to help keep them calm.
