“ ’Cause he’s been trained that way,” Young Bob told her. She looked at him in disbelief. “You’ve trained him to buck me off whenever I mount him?” She couldn’t see much future in having a horse who behaved that way.
But Young Bob was shaking his head. “He’s trained to buck off anyone who hasn’t used his permission phrase.”
She frowned at that and Will explained. “All our horses have a code phrase,” he said. “If you use it when you first meet a Ranger horse, he’ll allow you to mount him and ride him with no problems. If you don’t, he’ll buck like Gorlog himself until he throws you off. Which, in your case, didn’t take long.”
“Gorlog?” she asked. “Who’s Gorlog?”
“A very useful Skandian demigod,” he told her. But she was still absorbing the rest of what he’d said.
“So Ranger horses have some secret code? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“You’ve never heard of anyone stealing a Ranger horse, either.” Young Bob cackled in delight.
“Which has come in useful several times over my life,” Will told her.
Again, Maddie frowned, not quite believing them. It all sounded too far-fetched. “So I have to say this… code word… whenever I mount up?”
Young Bob shook his head. “Just the first time. After that, he’ll know you.”
“So, what do we say?” She addressed the question to Will but he pointed to Young Bob.
“It’s different for each horse,” Will said. “You might as well know that for Tug it’s ‘Do you mind?’. There may come a time when you have to ride him, so it’s worthwhile your knowing it.”
Maddie looked to Young Bob now. She still wasn’t sure if she believed all this. She wondered if she was letting herself in for another bone-shuddering dumping from Bumper’s back.
“So?” she said.
Young Bob frowned thoughtfully for a second or two, then replied, “With Bumper, you say ‘Don’t break me’.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Don’t break me?” she said.
Both Will and Young Bob replied in a triumphant chorus. “Don’t say it to us! Say it to the horse!”
“You whisper it in his ear just before you mount,” Will added. She recalled now that when she had gone to mount Bumper before, he had turned to her as if expecting something. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, they were telling her the truth.
She approached the little piebald again, crossing the reins and setting them on the saddle pommel. She stood for a second or two and, sure enough, Bumper turned his head to her. She leaned up on tiptoe and whispered in his ear.
“Don’t break me.”
Bumper nodded his head, as if satisfied. Before he could change his mind, she put her left foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle.
She tensed, waiting, fearing the worst. Five seconds passed. Then ten. Bumper was as solid and unmoving as a wooden horse. Gradually, she realised that they had been telling her the truth.
Some day, she promised herself, she would get them back for this.
“Walk him round,” Young Bob told her. “Get the feel of him.”
She touched Bumper with her heels and, instantly, he came to life. They walked, then trotted, around the saddling yard and she marvelled at the lightness and springiness of his step. She had thought the little Ranger horses appeared stolid and heavy. But once she was astride him, she realised how false this impression had been.
Bumper stepped lightly and eagerly. He responded to the lightest touch on the reins, the slightest pressure of her knees.
“Press with your left knee,” Will called and she did so—although now that she was aware of Bumper’s response level, she applied only the lightest pressure.
Instantly, he danced sideways. She pressed with her right knee and he danced several paces the other way. Then she used both knees and he continued his straight-ahead progress.
What she had seen—or thought she had seen—and what she was experiencing were two completely different matters. Young Bob moved past her as she circled the yard and unhitched the gate, clearing the way to the open fields beyond.
“Take him for a run,” he said.
She urged the little horse through the gate and touched her heels to his side again, loosening the tension on the reins.
The response was startling. Bumper accelerated like an arrow from a bow, so quickly that she was nearly left behind. But he sensed her momentary loss of balance and slowed, allowing her to regain her seat. Then he was off again, neck stretched out, legs reaching in great, bounding strides.
The speed was incredible. She had never ridden so fast in her life.
You didn’t expect this, did you?
“No, I didn’t,” she replied, shocked to find that she was talking to her horse—and, even more surprising, her horse had seemed to talk to her.
From the paddock, Will and Young Bob watched the horse and rider receding further and further into the distance.
“You’ve done well, Bob,” Will told him.
Young Bob was shading his eyes against the bright sun, watching Maddie and Bumper get acquainted.
“She’s a good rider. Got a balanced seat and nice soft hands. You could see that from her Arridan’s mouth.”
They fell silent for some minutes, watching the horse and rider, hearing the faint drumming of Bumper’s hooves on the grass. Then, in a mock casual tone that didn’t fool Young Bob for a moment, Will asked:
“I don’t suppose Bellerophon is around, is he?”
Young Bob cackled with delight.
“Wondered how long it’d take you to ask! He’s in the stable.”
Twenty-one
Maddie spent another two hours getting acquainted with her new horse. Bob took her through some of the basic commands that Ranger horses were trained to respond to—how to change gait on the rider’s signal, how to press harder into the ground on each pace so that a tracker following the Ranger might not realise that his quarry had dismounted and the horse was now riderless. Plus there were basic movements that could come in useful in combat—sidestepping and backing up, rearing onto the hind legs, pirouetting in place, lashing out at an enemy with the front hooves and kicking back with both rear legs.
All Ranger horses came ready trained in these basic manoeuvres—and a lot more besides. Maddie delighted in Bumper’s instant response to the hand, knee and foot signals that Young Bob taught her. It was almost as if all she had to do was think about the movement she wanted and Bumper responded before the thought was fully formed.
She continued to be amazed at his lightness of step. It was a constant surprise to see how quickly he moved, how rapidly he changed direction, and how he could accelerate from a standing start to a full gallop almost instantaneously.
Sundancer was a fine horse, there was no doubt about that. But Bumper seemed to be an extension of her own personality. He knew what she wanted of him, and did it, quickly and smoothly.
Maddie and Bumper ranged across the fields and through the woods, accompanied by Young Bob on a retired Ranger horse. Eventually, Bob decreed that she had learned enough for one morning and they rode back, cantering in that steady, loping stride until they were half a kilometre away. Then, at Bob’s signal, Maddie gave Bumper his head and streaked away from him, her cloak and long hair streaming out in the wind behind her.
Going to have to cut that hair, she thought, then gave herself over to the sheer exhilaration of Bumper’s speed and power and surefootedness.
She reined in as they drew closer to the cabin. She was surprised to see Tug standing in the saddling paddock, while Will rode bareback on an old grey horse, moving at a gentle canter around the field adjoining the saddling paddock. He saw her coming and waved, heading his mount towards her. Bumper whinnied a greeting and the old grey responded. As they drew closer, she could see that the hairs around his muzzle were white. But there was something vaguely familiar about him, she thought.