Chapter Thirty-six

The steep flight of steps finally ended when they met a long stone bridge covered in moss. She led him across it and into the town. He looked about at the log framed buildings and all the Nords who were out in the sunny weather tending to their chores. Men and women bustled about, carrying baskets, working iron, tilling gardens, and tending to fields. Many seemed to pay no attention to their passing through, but some still stopped to stare at him. He overheard comments from those that stopped about 'the devil-like horns protruding from his scalp.'

Libelle did not pay any attention to them as she carried on walking quickly through the town until she reached a barn. The small building had three stalls, one was empty and two had brown geldings in them, standing on hard dirt and eating fresh hay. Libelle walked up to the wooden perimeter fence of the barn, and resting against it was a young boy. He was whittling a small branch with a dull blade, his attention elsewhere.

"Boy," Libelle said, catching his attention. "Where is your father? I need to buy a horse."

The small boy with smoke colored hair looked up at her with auburn eyes and a wide smile. "Pa's not here right now. He left me in charge."

Libelle tied her horse to the hitching post and motioned for Eskil to get off. The boy stood up and faced her. "Pa has these two for sale. They are both geldings. That one with the star is six, and the one with the white on its hoof is eight. Pa says they are both broken to ride and drive."

Libelle simply nodded as she opened the gate and approached the two geldings with Eskil and the young boy following closely behind. The boy went up to the older gelding and pet its muzzle before offering it a handful of oats. Libelle approached the younger gelding first, stroked its forehead and ran her hands down its neck. She rubbed her hands down his back to his rump, tugging lightly on his tail. She bent over and felt each of his legs, picking up each hoof and examining the shoes. She repeated this on the older gelding and then stood back to look at both of them.

"How much is your father asking for them?" Libelle asked.

"A thousand gold coins...Each!"

Eskil watched as Libelle's lifeless eyes widened and nearly popped out of her head. She shook her head at the boy. "No, son, these geldings are worth no more than five hundred gold coins. The eight year old has sores from pulling a harness, and the six year old has founder in his front feet. Neither are worth that much."

"Well, that's what my pa wants for them." The boy was still smiling, trying to use his boyish charm to his advantage.

"Boy, no one in their right mind will pay a thousand gold coins for these horses. I'll give you five hundred gold coins for the eight year old."

"A thousand gold coins."

"Six hundred gold coins."

"A thousand gold coins."

Libelle rubbed the bridge of her nose with a frustrated sigh. This boy was stubborn, incredibly stubborn. No doubt due to his father's teachings. If she didn't need the horse she would move on, but she did, and the only other town that should could by a horse from was far out of her way. "I'll give you eight hundred gold coins, and I'll even buy enough oats for two horses for a three-day ride."

"Okay! Eight hundred gold coins, and enough oats for two horses for three days." He started counting on his fingers and stared at the sky. "You owe me...a thousand gold coins."

Libelle unconsciously slapped her palm on her forehead. But before she could respond, the boy skipped off and started bagging oats for her. She knew the oats were incredibly overpriced, but arguing with the child seemed to be getting her nowhere. She needed the horse for the man-beast, but she didn't want to spend such a ridiculous amount for the gelding. The conclusion was that she would buy the horse and oats for a thousand gold coins.

Eskil slowly stepped forward and stopped by her side, leaning into her ear he whispered, "You just got played by a child, Libby." He had a wicked smile on his lips.

She shook her head and paused, then looked at him confused. "Did you just call me Libby?"

He nodded. "Why, does that bother you?"

"Yes, it does. My name is not Libby, it's Libelle."

Eskil chuckled, the sound reminding her of his scaled body shaking with his rare laughter. "I'll call you Libby then." He walked away before Libelle could respond, leaving her standing with her eyes narrowed and her mouth wide open in shock.

He couldn't kill her, but he could get under her skin like a parasite and make her regret what she'd done to him. She cursed at him and the boy under her breath and pulled a leather pouch from the pack on her horse's saddle. She rummaged through it, and when the boy approached her, she handed him the coin. He counted it with enthusiasm, smiled at her again and walked away.

"Bairns these days, greedy little rats taught by their parents. Tsk. Good gold spent on a sore horse," Libelle sighed again, holding the reins of both horses. "Get on."

Eskil momentarily resisted the urge to tease her further when she looked like all she wanted to do was sleep. He stepped into the stirrup of the brown gelding and settled himself in for what he assumed was going to be a long ride. He looked down at Libelle who was still cursing under her breath and shaking her head about the young boy and her wasted coin.

"What's wrong, Libby?" Eskil asked mockingly, again acknowledging that he was enjoying the fun of messing with her.

She turned around and he was thrilled to see the anger burning in her eyes; the minor incident with the stable had injected some life back into her. She reached back and he mentally prepared himself for her slender hand to bash him across his face, but instead, her hand made full contact with his horse's rump and the pitiful thing squealed before bolting down the road. Eskil held onto the reins and the saddle as tightly as he could, but the choppy gait of the horse made it impossible to stay on. He bounced out of the saddle and onto the ground, hitting the stone cobble road with a loud thud. He groaned and looked up, his horse slowing to a stop nearby while Libelle was just climbing onto her tall stallion in the distance.

She rode up to him with a mocking tone in her voice. "What's wrong?"

She laughed and urged her horse into a walk as Eskil pushed himself up. He brushed himself off and climbed back into his horse's saddle, kicking the gelding's sides so it would move forward. He clumsily held its reins, confusing the beast with the pulling and yanking of its bit. His feet were hanging in the stirrups, and the more he kicked, the more the horse said no. The gelding snorted and stood still, refusing to move from its claimed spot.

Libelle turned her stallion around and returned to his side. "Not so easy is it?"

He glared at her. "Not so easy controlling a beast with a mind of its own."

She frowned at him. "You're not supposed to control the horse. You're supposed to ask it, and with enough trust it will listen to you and answer." She leaned over and pulled the reins from his hands, giving plenty of slack to the horse's bit. The gelding chomped down onto the iron in its mouth and stretched its neck out, letting its head down.

"You're taking in too much rein. Hold the leathers loose, keep slack in them. You should be able to feel his mouth through the leathers, but you should not be pulling on him. Keep your feet deep in the stirrups, push through your heels and keep your toes pointed up. It will help with balance." She pushed on his knee, then demonstrated with her own foot. "Rock in your seat, sit back and rock with your hips. Don't bounce, you will only exhaust yourself and destroy his back. To turn left, pull the reins over his neck like so," she explained as she pulled the right rein over its neck, and the horse turned its head to the left, its front feet following.

"To turn right, just do the opposite, like this. To slow down or stop, pull back but do not yank on the reins. Any sound horse will send you flying. Tap your heels into his sides to go forward but do not kick. If you ask him, he will listen."

Eskil stared at her like she had three heads and was speaking in tongue. Everything she had just explained to him made very little sense. She didn't smile at him, but held his gaze as she lightly tapped her horse's side with her heels and the stallion moved into a gentle trot. She turned him with light motions of her hand as the reins touched its neck with little pressure. Her stallion was well trained and soft in the hand. He looked down at his bulky gelding and lightly nudged his heels into its side. To his surprise, the gelding walked forward.

"Good," Libelle said. "You will figure it out by nightfall. We ride until dusk, then we will make camp. We have a three-day ride ahead of us." Her horse trotted forward, its movements were graceful and she hardly moved in the saddle. His horse clumsily plodded after them while crashing him around on its back. He hoped he would figure this out before nightfall, otherwise he was in for a rougher ride than he thought.