by K Madill
Mandamus thought back to what Aicha had told him in the forest; about his herd being bitten by something called ‘Always.’ A rippled of fear shot through him. The words, ‘gruesome’ and ‘evil’, circled his mind. What had the queen done to the Alsvid herd? How would he save them?
“Well, don’t worry,” said Luco, giving Drollo a reassuring smile. “We have no plans to go into the Silver City, and we have ways of hiding Mandamus’ eyes and mark so that no one knows what kind of horse he really is.”
“I’m sure you two have it all figured out,” Drollo said, squeezing Luco’s shoulder. “I’m sure you do.”
“Drollo, there you are!” cried Geminga, rushing towards them. Her arms were full of presents and she clutched a pair of shiny scissors. “Come and help me get a branch off the tree for next year’s celebration. We always cut off a branch and plant it,” she explained to Mandamus. “By next year… poof! A tree as big as that one will have grown,” she pointed at the decorated fir. “Isn’t that something? Oh, and Luco, dear, here is a gift for you, and you too, Mandamus, darling.” She thrust two of the gaily wrapped packages into Luco’s arms. “Come on, Drollo!” she ordered.
“Of course, dear,” said Drollo and shooting Mandamus one last worried look, he hurried after Geminga.
Luco led him over to three of his cousins who, to Mandamus’ astonishment, all had matching features and long, curly hair.
“They’re triplets,” Luco said with a grin at Mandamus’ confused look. “Auntie Alfin sure had her hands full when they were little.”
But Mandamus was quiet. All he could think of as he stared at the lights and gifts and buffet, was the Alsvid herd. He felt heavy with guilt that he should be free and in a beautiful place like Roseneath, with someone like Luco, when the horses that shared the same blood as his had been turned into fiends.
His worried thoughts were interrupted by Proxima carrying a large bucket filled with an amber liquid.
“No beer for Mandamus,” Luco told his grandmother.
“Oh, it’s fine,” she asked, waving away Luco’s objection. “It’s the Winter Celebration.” She set the bucket in front of Mandamus, ignoring Luco’s protests.
Mandamus leaned down for a sniff then dipped his muzzle in cautiously and took a sip. The foam on top tickled his nose, but the taste was delectable. He took a deep drink.
Mandamus noticed that, as the night wore on, Luco’s family had become louder and more raucous. Luco’s cousins had brought drums, a bass, and a fiddle, and soon, led by Luco, they began playing a rambunctious tune. Drollo stood by the roaring fireplace making toast after toast.
“To Luco, the best guitar player in the Silver Kingdom,” he cried over the music, raising his glass and taking a gulp.
“To Luco,” the family cried, taking sips from their own bottles and cups.
“To Arkas, the fire-breathing bat,” he lifted his goblet again. Arkas, who’d had several shot glasses of whiskey, breathed a jet of fire and somersaulted in mid-air. Everyone cheered.
“And to Mandamus, may he…,” Drollo faltered and Mandamus knew he was thinking about the Alsvid horse who tried to bite his ox. “May he have long life and good health.” Drollo drained the last of his drink and wiped his mouth.
After a few more hours of drinking, eating, music playing, and conversation, Luco motioned for Mandamus to follow him out the door.
“Come on,” said Luco. “Come down to the hot springs and keep me company.”
“Hot springs?”
“Yeah, hot springs. Just by the banks of the river. You’ll see.”
The trek down to the springs was hard for Luco, or so it seemed to Mandamus, for he kept stumbling, but still never fell, catching himself each time. While they ambled along, Luco sang a under his breath, pausing now and then to take another swig from the bottle he’d brought with him.
“Ah,” Luco sighed as they reached a row of bright blue steaming pools surrounded by flat, smooth stones. “Here we are, my friend.
Luco stopped in front of the nearest pool. Vapour rose, wafting out a damp, flowery smell.
Luco lit some lanterns that hung from nearby trees then peeled off his pants and shirt. He sank into the water with a sigh.
“Now this, Mandamus, is one of the best things in life,” he said dreamily.
“A bath?” Mandamus asked doubtfully.
“Hot water,” Luco murmured, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Comfort, heat, laziness, and wine.”
He opened his eyes and reached for the bottle he’d placed on the rim of the pool and took a deep gulp.
Mandamus didn’t care for heat or wine. He had drunk the entire contents of Proxima’s bucket and felt woozy. What he wanted was some fresh grass. He sniffed the ground, but there was no grass surrounding the pool, only the rock patio. He wandered away, the ground crunching under his hooves as he headed toward the river where he knew the grass was long and tasty.
“Don’t wander too far,” Luco called. “The light’s not that bright and the river bank is deceptively closer than you think. If you’re not careful, you could fall in.”
And as if on cue, there was a splash, as though something had just jumped out of the river. Mandamus froze, ears stiff with alarm. He could hear someone or something clambering up the bank and heading towards them.
He froze to the spot but just as he was about to bellow out a frightened whinny, the air turned sugary and tinkling laughter sounded in the darkness.
“Lethe,” he exclaimed, as he trotted over to where she stood at the river’s edge.
The water streamed off her hair and dripped down her nose. In her hands, she held a small corked bottle. Lethe grinned at Mandamus then lifted his mane and kissed him on the neck.
“Not a sound,” she whispered, putting one finger in front of her lips. “I want to surprise him.”
“Who’s there?” Luco yelled. “Uncle Drollo? Aunt Geminga?”
“It’s me!” Lethe shouted, bounding towards Luco. Mandamus trotted after her.
“Happy Winter Celebration, or whatever you humans call it.” She reached the spring and hopped inside.
Luco’s eyes were wide. “Hi, Lethe,” he gulped, shooting Mandamus a terrified look.
“Hi, Luco,” she smiled, holding out the bottle. “This is for you. It’s water from the Gates to the Underworld. D’uh! Had I been thinking, I would have given it to you before you left. I’m getting much better though, and I can stay out of the water for days at a time now.” Her lips curved into a shy smile. “Thanks to you and Mandamus.”
“Uh, yeah, well, you know,” Luco stammered, reaching for the bottle and Mandamus wondered if Luco would ever be able to speak properly around Lethe. “It was nothing, nothing at all. How is Nadee, by the way?”
“Trapped like a crab,” Lethe told him with a grin. “I go and say hello to her now and then and those Odders? Turns out they’re not so bad. Once the hag was trapped and her spell was broken, they became quite docile. I even ride on their backs from time to time.”
“So, what’s this you’ve brought me? Memory erasing water?” Luco said, staring warily at the bottle in his hand. He set it down beside his wine on the stone patio.
“It depends on the dose,” Lethe explained. “A few drops and it will give some temporary memory loss. A whole cup and who knows what will happen?”
“Thanks,” said Luco, glancing nervously at her present. His face went sheepish. “I don’t have anything for you. I didn’t expect you to visit.”
Lethe giggled. “Of course, you do, silly. You can sing me a song.”
Luco grinned and winked at Mandamus. “I have been working on a new tune,” he said. “But I don’t have my guitar. Wait for me and I’ll go get it,” he said before hoisting himself out of the water and balancing on the edge of the spring.
“I don’t have much time,” Lethe ple
aded, tugging him back in. “Can you just sing it without a guitar?”
“I suppose,” Luco conceded, plunking back down, sloshing water over the side. “But remember, it’s a work in progress so it’s not my best.” He cleared his throat then sang:
“There’s a girl I know from before
Her face is behind every door
Her eyes are the sky,
The breeze is her sigh
She’s everywhere I see
And she’s the only girl for me.”
“It’s beautiful,” Lethe said breathlessly.
She climbed out of the pool, her dress steaming from the warm water.
“Where are you going?” Luco asked. “You just got here.”
“I know,” Lethe said, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek. “But it’s a long swim back.”
She dashed back towards the river, giving Mandamus a pat as she passed. With one last wave, she dove into the river and was gone.
Luco picked the bottle back up and stared at it, a small smile on his lips and, while Mandamus was grateful for Lethe’s gift, he dreaded the day they would have to use it.
Chapter 17
Learning to Ride
The next morning Mandamus awoke to a pounding headache. His stomach churned. His mouth tasted like someone had rubbed the inside of it with Luco’s dirty sock. He looked over at the smouldering fireplace and could see Arkas curled up in a pile of ashes, snoring loudly.
Mandamus himself had fallen asleep standing up in Luco’s kitchen with his face in a pail of honey-covered oats. They were plastered to his chin and cheek. He could hear Luco upstairs whistling over the sound of running water then pounding down the stairs, each step ringing painfully in Mandamus’ head.
Luco hopped off the bottom step. “Today, we ride,” he said with a grin as he poured three bowls of cereal.
The sun was already high in the sky when Mandamus, Luco, and Arkas left the house. Mandamus’ wanted nothing more than to spend the day lazing around the cherry star grove with Arkas, so he dragged his hoofs, plodding reluctantly after Luco.
Arkas flapped crookedly after them, struggling to stay airborne. He spun around and darted back into the house through the open window. Mandamus turned to follow him, but Luco urged him down the road.
“I’m serious,” Luco said as they trudged along. “By dinner time tonight, I want to be able to ride you home from Star’s Field.”
“Why today?” Mandamus groaned, his stomach doing a slow flop. “I don’t feel well. That beer tastes good when you’re drinking it, but it’s awful the next day.” He squeezed his eyes shut. The sun was belligerently bright.
“Yeah, that’s called a hangover,” Luco told him wryly. “And believe it or not, the best cure is exercise.”
“I doubt that,” grumbled Mandamus who felt that rest and snacking was a more attractive option. He fanned himself with his tail.
“But it works,” Luco said happily as he bopped towards the small shed beside his house where they kept the riding equipment. “And if you’re feeling a bit slow, that means you’re less inclined to bolt. That girth is going to suck though.” Mandamus moaned, but he followed Luco.
Luco pushed open the heavy, squeaking door and headed straight for the saddle. He pulled it off the saddle horse and slung it over one arm while grabbing the reins and bridle with the other.
He slung the saddle over Mandamus’s back and, although Mandamus still wasn’t sure he liked the feeling of weight on his spine and shoulders, he was too groggy to care. He staggered loosely after Luco as they headed towards the same field in which they had practised before.
Luco slipped his foot into a stirrup and hoisted himself onto Mandamus’ back. Mandamus felt so tired, he didn’t even care about Luco’s unbalanced weight that in turn made him feel off-centre. He was miserable. But then Luco shifted his bulk, balancing so perfectly on Mandamus’ back that Mandamus could barely feel him. “So that’s the trick,” he thought through his sluggish haze. “Luco being balanced makes riding easier on me.”
The girth didn’t feel as tight as it had yesterday. He had felt so queasy while eating cereal that he hadn’t pigged out as usual. Luco squeezed his, legs putting pressure on Mandamus’ ribs.
“Walk,” Luco said.
Mandamus stumbled in a straight line.
“Good!” said Luco, rocking back and forth against the saddle pad. “The stirrups steady me,” he murmured. He pulled the reins and the bit in Mandamus’ mouth pressed against his tongue, gagging him.
“You can stop that anytime,” complained Mandamus. “I don’t like that thing in my mouth at all.”
“Let me fix it,” Luco said. He jumped off his back and fumbled with the bridle. The bit unclasped easily from the silver rings it was attached to and, once he had no bit in his mouth, Mandamus found he didn’t mind the bridle as much.
Luco remounted and when he shifted his weight forward Mandamus burst into a gallop. Luco shrieked as he nearly sailed back over Mandamus’ rump. He yanked the reins as hard as he could.
“Mandamus whoa!” he shouted. “Slow down!”
But Mandamus didn’t stop, and he whipped down the field. The flowers that dotted the landscape were nothing more than colourful blurs as he raced past. His hooves pounded the ground like thunder. His headache cleared and all he could feel was the power of his legs, the sun on his neck, and the wind in his mane. Finally, Luco gently tugged the reins, then quickly released them. Mandamus eased into a canter and then slowed, finally stopping. Luco jumped off and collapsed onto the grass, looking pale and shaken.
“What the heck Mandamus, I could have been killed! You’re supposed to start off at a walk. I don’t know how to ride!”
“You did just fine,” said Mandamus who was not at all out of breath. In fact, he felt as though he could still run for miles and miles.
“Yeah, because I managed to hang on,” said Luco, sitting up. “What if you do that again and I fall off and break something? We must learn how to walk, and you have to learn my signals. I know you want to run, and we will, but I need time to get used to going that fast.”
Mandamus felt bad. He knew that Luco didn’t know how to ride yet, but what Luco didn’t understand was that he, Mandamus, and every other horse, always felt their best after a burst of speed. Luco grumbled as he climbed back into the saddle and urged him into the middle of the field.
“Yoo-hoo,” a voice called.
Luco groaned. Setting up folding chairs and unpacking coolers along the treeline were his aunts, Uncle Drollo, his grandmother, and last of all, his mother. They were joined by a few more people Mandamus didn’t recognize but Luco knew them all.
“Great, they brought Mr. Tuttle, the grouchiest, most critical man in town,” he muttered to Mandamus. “Perfect, there’s Mrs. Nelson, my first-grade teacher; oh, and look, they’ve brought Sandy Sanders, the guy who writes the gossip column for the Roseneath Rambler, our town newspaper.”
Mandamus enjoyed having spectators, and he pranced before the small crowd. Everyone clapped.
“Oh, don’t start, you show off,” Luco said, tapping his side with his toe. “This isn’t going to be fun with all of them watching. You’ll see.”
“Point your heels down, Luco,” Geminga shouted, waving a butter knife at him. She was spreading mustard on a slice of bread. “That’ll give you a firmer seat.” Her black bear, Ursa, nodded vigorously beside her, keeping one eye on the sandwich she was making. “Grind your bottom right into the saddle seat,” Ursa cried.
“They’ve never ridden a horse in their life,” Luco sniped but he attempted each instruction his family bellowed out.
“Ease up on his mouth,” Proxima yelled. “No need to tear his face off, the poor horse.”
Luco loosened the reins and let them drop onto Mandamus neck. Mandamus gave a snort of relief. That felt better
.
“Squeeze with your lower legs until he starts to pick up speed. That’ll be his cue,” Alfin called. “Then, when you want him to stop, squeeze your upper leg and pull softly on his reins and release right away. Pull, release, pull, release.”
“Since when are they all experts?” Luco muttered scornfully but Mandamus had to admit, everything they had suggested felt right when Luco tried it.
And so, Mandamus and Luco spent the rest of the day practising their trotting and walking, and since Luco could feel how Mandamus’ muscles coiled under the saddle, and could tell how he longed to gallop, he let Mandamus erupt into a few short sprints until they were both exhausted but happy.
Luco’s family enjoyed the practise from the sidelines, offering guidance and laughing at Luco’s clumsy riding. Luco hollered back at them, becoming especially agitated when Old Mr. Tuttle compared Mandamus and Luco to a sack of potatoes strapped to an ox.
Mandamus, on the other hand, was grateful that Luco’s family took an interest in them and, again, it made Mandamus miss his own family. He wondered what his mother and aunt Daleth would say if they knew he was learning how to be ridden by a man. He thought back to the mean things that Marushka, the Diomedes queen, had said to Daleth about living with men and forgetting how to be a horse, but he didn’t feel as if he was forgetting to be a horse at all. If anything, he felt as though he was born to carry a man on his back.
Mandamus and Luco practised riding all day and, by dinner time, they weren’t too bad at it, but Mandamus knew it would take many more tries before Luco would be able to ride at top speed. Luco was fine when Mandamus walked or trotted, but when they galloped, Luco bounced in the saddle and jerked on the reins. Mandamus’ gut instinct told him that his ability to run fast was the best defense they had and that Luco had better learn to ride at a gallop.
Chapter 18
Gideon
Mandamus loved Roseneath.
He and Luco spent the weekends riding through the woods and fields, followed by long, loud family dinners. During weekdays, Luco worked in Drollo’s orchards harvesting fruit, some of which Luco would take to his mother for her baking. Between Patte’s pies and his grandmother’s pasta, Luco complained that he needed bigger pants to fit his growing belly, and Mandamus had to agree for he felt his own midsection expanding from all the oats, hay, and molasses cookies everyone kept feeding him.