Mike looked the two horses over for a moment and then, realizing he was stalling, stepped up on the mounting stone, stuck his boot into stirrup, which was being held by Petro, and mounted.
The saddle didn’t budge. Then again, neither did the horse. No sidling, no shifting. It was like mounting a warm, furry, rock.
Uncle Latif wordlessly handed him the reins and then stood back.
“Good night, Kildar,” the Keldara said, bowing.
“Good night, Latif,” Mike replied, settling in the seat. One thing that he did recall was that a horse wanted to know that the rider knew what he was doing. He took the reins in his left hand, gripped between two fingers and his thumb and slowly released pressure, giving a grip of his knees and a slight “click” with his tongue.
The gelding automatically started walking, the mare following placidly, and Mike, just to be sure, walked them around the courtyard as the two Keldara went back into the caravanserai. He’d been clear that he did not want anyone seeing him trying out the horse.
The velvet pants had a patch of suede on the butt and crotch and the first thing he noticed was that the patch made for a very firm seat. He’d always ridden in jeans before, which tended to slide a bit, and he found this a much more reassuring ride. The horse was also responsive but not overly so. One circuit around the courtyard was enough to give him the surety to head down the road toward the Family’s enclave.
Actually, he sort of liked the outfit. Deep in Mike’s scarred soul there was a peacock he vigorously suppressed; his normal mode of dress was jeans or shorts, depending on weather, and a T-shirt. For one thing, he really didn’t feel he had the panache to carry off nice clothes. But when he had the chance to show off, he liked to. Hell, he even liked dress whites, which was something of a heresy among SEALs. He was pretty sure that didn’t make him gay; he’d never had any interest in guys. But he was also sure that it wasn’t something he was going to admit to Adams.
There was no choice but to walk down the switchbacks; a canter would have been impossible at the corners and a trot was, for the time being, out of the question. Besides, it was simply safer for the horses to walk down a slope. So, despite the fact that he was running behind schedule he carefully walked down to the road and then, as he reached the relative flats, broke into a trot, then a canter.
The gelding had an excellent canter, long, smooth and fast. However, looking back, he noticed that the mare was up at a gallop. Next time he needed better matched horses. Lydia had been riding, though. He’d have to ask her if she was comfortable with a gallop on the way back.
As he pulled to a halt by the Mahona compound, the door was opened by Mother Mahona, the senior lady of the Family. Mike drew a little comfort from the fact that she had a sober but not unhappy expression on her face.
One of the younger Keldara females was outside, waiting, and she took Mike’s reins as the Kildar dismounted. Mike had insisted that the minimum necessary males be included in the ceremony. Mike straightened his jacket again and then marched over to the door, pausing at the entrance.
“I request the privilege of entering the home of the Mahona,” Mike said, pausing.
“This roof is yours, Kildar,” Father Mahona replied from within. “These walls are yours. This home is yours to enter.”
Mike nodded, secretly sighing in relief; everybody was remembering their lines.
Mike walked in and looked around. The main room of the Keldara houses was usually packed with people; there was a bit of housing shortage among the Keldara that he kept meaning to rectify. However, at the moment the only persons present were Mother and Father Mahona, Father Jusev, the Orthodox priest from town, and Lydia.
The latter was wearing a white silk dress edged in seed pearls that looked not at all like most wedding dresses. It was cut down the front to reveal a rather startling amount of cleavage, stopped well above the knees and was form-hugging all over. She also was wearing a pair of white high heels. Normally, riding in high heels was damned near impossible, but with a sidesaddle it was much simpler. The outfit was, by Keldara standards, scandalous. One of the reasons that nobody else was present.
The girl was looking nervous but had the presence not to tug at the outfit as she awaited her lines.
“I am come to take my rights as the Kildar,” Mike said, sternly, looking Father Mahona in the eye.
“The right of the Kildar is acknowleged by the Keldara and the Family Mahona,” the elder replied, nodding. “The Kildar is reminded of his duty to the future family.”
“I acknowledge my duty,” Mike said, turning to Father Jusev, the priest. “I have come to take my rights as the Kildar.”
“The right of the Kildar is acknowledged by the church,” the priest said nervously. The fact was that the Orthodox church acknowledged no such thing. But Mike, despite the fact that he never attended, was the local parish’s single largest contributor. Father Jusev was also aware that the Keldara weren’t exactly Christian. Between the two facts, he wasn’t about to stand in the way of the Rite of Kardane. “The Kildar is reminded of his duty of teaching,” the priest added, swallowing nervously.
“I acknowledge my duty,” Mike said, turning to Mother Mahona. “I come to take my rights as Kildar.” His tone in this case was much less stern, intentionally.
“The right of the Kildar is acknowledged by the women of the Keldara,” Mother Mahona said, smiling slightly. She was the only one who apparently found the ceremony humorous. “The Kildar is reminded of his duty of gentleness.”
“I acknowledge my duty,” Mike said, gently, then turned to Lydia, dropping to one knee and bowing his head. “My lady, I am come to crave a boon of you, one night of gentleness. May I have my time as is my right?”
“You may, Kildar,” Lydia replied, nervously. “May you remember your duties in all things.”
“I shall,” Mike said, standing up and taking her hand. “I shall return with this daughter of the Keldara when the sun rises,” he said, looking at the three. “I shall render my duty as tradition fits and no shame is had in this Rite.”
“No shame, only duty,” Father Mahona said.
“No shame, only duty,” the priest intoned.
“No shame,” Mother Mahona said, winking, “only pleasure.”
Now that was off the script.
Lydia blushed scarlet but followed Mike out of the room.
The young Keldara girl was still holding the horses when Mike came out. She had unclipped the lead-line and held both sets of reins. Mike first helped Lydia into the side-saddle, not that she needed much help, then mounted and took the reins.
“Have fun,” the girl said to Lydia, giggling, then ran around the side of the house.
Mike kept it down to a light canter up to the flats, then Lydia kicked her horse into a gallop and hit the first switchback at a run.
The gelding snorted and took off after the mare and Mike, working hard to keep his seat, gave the horse his head. However, when he drew up behind Lydia’s mare, he reined back slightly, letting the mare set the pace.
After the first turn, which they took faster than Mike liked, the mare began to struggle and Lydia let her slow to a trot then a walk.
“That was fun,” Lydia said, smiling over at him.
“Had you ridden before you started training?” Mike asked.
“Just some bareback on the plow horses,” Lydia said, shrugging. “Not like this,” she added, gesturing at the sidesaddle.
“Well, you’ve got a good seat,” Mike said, smiling. “A better one than I do, to tell the truth.”