She explained what the Godmother wanted her to do and offered to do without Sapphire’s help so that the Elemental Spirit would not be locked in with her — spirit or no, she had noticed that the servants couldn’t pass through closed doors, nor walls, and once that grate came down, there would be no going in or out until she raised it again. But Sapphire wrote a very firm “No” on her slate, and Bella lowered the grate as soon as one of the others came with her supper tray.
And there was no doubt when the moon rose, because once again the halls echoed with the distant howls that sounded uncannily as if Sebastian was also sobbing as he howled.
14
THE THREE DAYS THAT SEBASTIAN SPENT IN SECLUSION were not going to be as quiet as she would have expected. Since she had comported herself to Eric’s satisfaction, he had ordered her servants to find all of Sebastian’s outgrown clothing and deliver it to her. This she discovered when she woke after a not-very-restful night of listening to Sebastian howl, to find Sapphire putting it in her closet with the air of someone who would really rather have been doing anything else. And that the clothing itself was offensive to her sensibilities. How Sapphire managed to convey this, although she herself was invisible, was really remarkable. The clothing rose slowly in the air, dangling by the smallest possible pinch of fabric. It was then wafted hastily to the closet, and tucked up as far into the back as possible.
All except for one outfit of gray wool and moleskin, which was laid out for her to put on. Sapphire touched as little of it as possible. It made Bella want to giggle.
When she came down to breakfast, Sebastian was not there — which she had expected — but Eric was — which she had not.
“Huh. Whatever you put on your face, I’d like to get some,” he said, regarding her thoughtfully. “The marks are barely pink. You look knackered, though.”
“Sebastian spent the night singing,” she said dryly.
Eric chuckled. “He’s been known to do that, which is why I live in the gatehouse,” the Gamekeeper said, a little heartlessly. “Well, you’d better stay awake for a few hours, because I’m teaching you how to actually use that crossbow. And a knife. Not that you did badly, grabbing the arrow, but if you’re going to come out to help me, I want you better trained, because clearly my reputation isn’t enough to keep the riffraff out of the forest. I’ll drop some hints in the city that I’m training an assistant — we won’t need to worry about you being seen. I can promise you, there are plenty of eyes out there. If they think there are two of us patrolling, they won’t be as bold as they’ve been.”
Bella was so astonished by this that she didn’t even object to his high-handed assumption that she wanted to go riding out with him.
Not that she didn’t…
After all, there was only so much potion-making that she could do, at least until the new supplies that the Godmother had promised her arrived, and only so much dancing without feeling guilty she was pulling the servants away from their duties.
She ate her breakfast as quickly as he ate his. And she noted the faint approval in his expression when she pushed away from the table at the same time as he did.
Like anything else, using the crossbow properly was a matter of practice, and a great deal of it, it seemed. Even at short range she was woeful with it. But at least, over time, she did get better. When Eric finally called a halt — “For now,” he said — she was finally hitting the target most of the time, as opposed to bouncing the arrow off the ground, sending it over the target or whizzing by to either side.
Her efforts with the knife were a bit more successful, perhaps because in the wake of being a victim of an attack herself, she was not particularly eager to be a target again. And if she went at this with more enthusiasm and energy than skill, well, that was only to be expected. He taught her how to hold the knife so as to prevent it from being turned back on her, how to get at it when her arms were pinned, when to slash and when to stab. He promised to set up a dummy for her to practice on. “I am not teaching you how to throw a knife,” he said, “so don’t ask. There is no point in it. Learning to throw knives properly can take a lifetime — and all you would ever accomplish, except for the odd, lucky hit, would be to give your attacker another weapon by throwing it at him.”
Nor was Eric done with her for the day. After dinner, he took her back outside and put her on one of the horses. The real horses, and not her mule.
“You’re going to learn to ride a proper horse,” he told her. “Properly astride. When you come out with me, I want you to be able to keep up.”
She nodded, remembering how her shorter mule had struggled to keep pace with his longer-limbed horse. She waited, bundled up in that warm coat, hat and gloves, while he went into the stable. He must have told the Spirit Elementals which horses to get ready, for they were out in a very short length of time.
She tried not to be alarmed, but it was difficult. When it all came down to it, she was, after all, a woman of the city, who walked nearly everywhere.
The beast Eric led out to her in the courtyard towered over her. She watched him lead it up to her with growing apprehension; it was a dark brown with a black mane and tail, and she thought it was looking at her with utter contempt, as if it knew exactly how bad a rider she was.
He tied it up to a stone pillar with a ring in it — evidently there for just that purpose — and laced his hands together. “Put your left foot there,” he ordered. “I’ll boost you up into the saddle.”
Nervously, she got a good grip on the pommel with both hands and did as she was told — and in the next moment found herself flying upward. Somehow she managed to get her leg over the saddle before she fell off on the other side. It took a few more moments of fumbling with her feet for the stirrups before she could find them. The horse was not only tall, it was very, very wide. Much wider than her little mule, or the few “lady’s horses” she had ever ridden. Already her legs were starting to hurt a little and she knew that she was going to need a hot soak very badly when this was over.
Eric puttered about both sides of the horse, actually grabbing her feet and moving them to where he wanted them, shortening the stirrups a little — which helped her legs — and pulling the belt that went around the middle of the horse a little tighter. Finally, he seemed satisfied, and took a long line that had been tied to his belt and fastened it to the horse’s bridle. “Take up the reins,” he said, backing up. “You remember this from when you first learned to ride, yes?”
He eyed her critically. “All right. Here we go.” He clucked to the horse, and it moved out in a walk and then just as she grew accustomed to the pace, into a trot.
She was terrified she was going to get bounced off, and the horse seemed to be having a wicked good time at her expense, but she tried to do everything Eric said, and slowly, it all started to come together. The jouncing wasn’t as bad…in fact, it slowly stopped being jouncing as she and the saddle stopped meeting painfully in the middle.
She heard him cluck to the horse again, and the beast stretched out his legs and went into a canter, which was both a relief, and terrifying. A relief, because it was an infinitely easier gait! But terrifying, because the horse was going so fast!
Three times around, with Eric turning elegantly on his heel as he kept the horse moving on the end of the line, and it started to be less terrifying and more exciting. She hadn’t fallen! And the speed — so amazing —