A Lesson to Forget

"Can you repeat that?"

Later in the day when the festivities died down, Ulfstead went to visit his Father who had just escaped the remaining moments of a palace banquet. 

While the ministers and lady folk ate, the King quietly grumbled about every coin these people feasted upon. Why did he have to feed these fat pocketed nobles every year and waste hundreds of thousands of silver to entertain? Sourly, the King took his leave, refusing to watch as his righteous ministers pretend to act aloof while secretly stuffing their faces with meat.

Pleasantly hearing that the son had been waiting for him, the King went to his Chambers in a suddenly renewed mood. It had been a long while since the Prince sought him out in his free time.

But then, his son opened his mouth.

"My sisters wish to learn horseback riding," repeated Ulfstead. The father and son sat across from each other on the round table near the window. On the table, the old maids served a few snacks that the Prince used to love. 

The King curled his lips in disdain. He didn't hide the fact that he looked down on the idea.

Ulfstead wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained. The King's ego was fragile. It was best not bruise it, unless he wanted to suffer petty revenge. "Don't women ride horses? Isn't it a good thing that they wish to learn?"

"Like who?" Aristocratic women don't ride horses. They rode carriages. And for what reason should a noble princess learn tasks performed by men?

Blankly, Ulfstead stared at his father as he recited a verse:

"A heroine a top a steed;

Captures the hearts of men;

To the south she pleads

Bales of wheat she sends."

The scene was painted in the King's mind from a few years ago. A woman dressed in white mounting a horse in front of thousands of soldiers. The heroic scene had poets writing sonnets for months - many of which circled the Capital two or three times before being added to the Anthology of Cardinal Compositions.

Even the King was colored impressed at the time.

Unfortunately, the motivational poem inspired by Lady Vallerie wasn't enough for the King to change his mind.

Take two.

"I've heard that in the northern lands, all children, regardless of gender, know how to ride."

"You wish to copy savages who don't even know how to write their names?" Another scoff from the King resulted in another vacant stare from Ulfstead. 

Why is the King such a pain in the ass?

As the conversation came to a boring standstill, a servant boy came over to serve the drink.

Seeing a familiar looking pot and smelling a familiar aroma, Ulfstead's deadpan expression began to move.

A squirm of the lips, a twitch in his eye. The liquid that was poured was a rich amber. Was this not the tea he had been hoarding in his residence?

Pleased by the reaction, the King carefully picked up the interesting new creation. Through his beard, he softly blew. The floral aroma floated upward with the steam and curled playfully in the air.

Ulfstead thought about the work it took to pick and dry these leaves and flowers... In the end there were only so many canisters. The only reason why he let his guards drink some was because they helped when making it and drinking too much tea wasn't beneficial to his young body.

Remembering this, he calmed down.

Taking a sip, the King sighed in contentment. "I didn't think you would mind considering even servants in the palace could drink it."

Was this man seriously jealous of his guards? "If father likes it then I'll send you some more. I plan on using a few flowers that haven't been picked yet. I was waiting until after the holiday so that the bees had enough time to pollinate. In my opinion, the drink is best when mixed in with a bit of honey."

The King hemmed and hawed. "Is that so?" His eyes drifted over to the servant that poured another glass."

Dutifully, the boy left the room to fetch the item. Only a few moments passed when the honey appeared in front of them. The King served himself according to the Prince's instructions. And certainly, the hot tea did adjust to his tastes.

Satisfied by his new gains, the cheap father turned to the Old Eunuch with a smug grin. "Find a woman learned in riding a horse. Only the princesses that have passed their teacher's assessment can go."

This time, Ulfstead didn't stop his eyes from rolling.

Well, I guess a win is a win.

Satisfied with the transaction, the son thanked him.

~~~

The following day, Ulfstead had finished mucking the stalls while Lyfette helped the stable boys bring some straw down from the hayloft. The stable boys were mostly doubled or tripled in age to them, but their lively nature was refreshing.

They seemed much freer in attitude than the servants that worked within the palace. It seemed Lyfette was also fond of their lively personalities, and for the first time, the little prince chose to befriend the older boys.

Ulfstead was pleased with this, not minding the fact that his good 'son' was branching out. Joan and Heilil watched their master as he whistled an odd tune as he worked. They didn't know why cleaning horseshit was so enjoyable. The guards originally tried to help the royal children, seeing the prince they served doing such lowly tasks actually hurt their eyes and souls.

Alas, Ulfstead denied their offers saying that this task was a part of his training.

So, all they could do was curse the dastardly instructor in their minds.

Ales pretended not to see the hidden daggers pointed toward him. This part of the lesson was set by the King. Even if he had a thousand's courage, he would never force the royal children to clean up shit. It's only because he had orders from the big boss!

Hanging up the shit shovel, Ulfstead went to the stall furthest from the entrance. Inside was a older mare named Fathima who was around fifteen years old. While the other horses spent nearly their entire day grazing under the sun, Fathima would docilely return to her stall and watch whoever was working.

Throughout these past few weeks, Ulfstead bonded well with the girl, sneaking her a carrot or two in his breaks. Standing on a stool, he petted the coarse, grey hair while being lovingly booped by her snout.

A short while later, Lyfette returned with the instructor. A simper on both their faces. It seemed something good was about to occur. 

"The two of you have done well. Starting today, we will begin your actual lessons," Ales announced.

Ulfstead shared a glance with Lyfette. It was finally happening.

~

The first lesson was learning how to mount.

Admittedly, Ulfstead was a little nervous considering the fact that saddles were not used in this world - well, there were cloth saddles but how was a blanket going to help him climb on top of a horses back?

As he struggled to scale the mountain that was named Ocius, Lyfette had long been seated and ready to go. It seemed his monkey climbing skills really came in handy.

Ales patiently waited on the side, the secret snickers from the stable boys drifting to his ears.

Heilil and Joan who were holding the reigns shot frosted looks their way, successfully shutting the kids up. After a few minutes, Ulfstead finally climbed atop, a sheen of sweat on his face.

Ales showed a satisfied smile while in his heart, he thought, 'He's still young. He will get better in the future.'

~

A few weeks later, only the four princesses from before showed up in ill-fitted menswear with their new riding teacher. Not everyone wished to learn after word spread the various tasks the princes had to do before they even had the chance to ride.

It seemed they didn't know that the female instructor never planned on giving them hard labor at all. So, the first day of lessons began in a typical fashion.

When Ekaterina, Jovana, and Suzette eagerly went to choose their horses, Ulfstead helped introduce Tacy to the gelding he had been riding for the past few weeks. Ocius was as patient as a person who enjoyed watching paint dry. He was sure that he would be the perfect horse for his shy tenth sister to ride.

Tacy smiled and signed the word Ulfstead taught her for thanks before going on her way to join the other girls.

Because his horse was used, Ulfstead excitedly went to gear up Fathima before the lessons began. Skillfully putting on her bridle, Ulfstead coaxed her ready.

Lyfette was already galloping around on the field, laughing almost maniacally as if he was born to ride. On the fences the stable boys whooped and cheered. How amazing was this little prince?

Even the former soldier, Ales, had sparkling eyes as if he was looking at gold. Surely, when the second prince grew up he was going to be a warrior that could charge into battle.

On the other hand, Ulfstead and Fathima were steadily walking in circles to break her in.

"Does Your Highness need me to hold the reins today?" Heilil asked. The mare was older and had a good history, but the guard wasn't so confident placing his Prince on top of a horse with no prior experience...

Ulfstead felt ready to take on the open pasture today. For some reason, he had a good feeling. "No, I think I'm ready."

And so, Heilil nodded his head and had the boys open the gates.

Ulfstead patted Fathima's neck, and directed her toward the open field...

The mare's pace was good. Steady and gentle.

Under the early summer's sun, the two rode through the short grass, slowly picking up speed. A walk turned into a trot. A trot turned into a canter. 

And a smile was bright on the prince's lips as he enjoyed the life he was given.

And then the smile broke.