‘No, but I shall teach you to fall off more gracefully than you do now.’ He laughed.
‘I only fall off when Danes who should know better creep around in bushes scaring ponies.’
‘We shall see,’ he said as he ruffled Angus’s head, he left with my faithful dog trotting behind.
I swung out of bed hastily and began to get dressed. I was excited. Finally, a chance to show him I could handle whichever beast he gave me. I wore one of my own dresses, it was a deep blue, it was not as fitted as I would have liked but it showed enough that it might interest Sigurd. At least enough to infuriate him as he watched me disappear into the distance as I showed him how a Pict woman would ride.
Outside the sun was just beginning to wake with cracks of orange filtering in through the blanket of clouds. The air was filled with sea spray. Sigurd stood betwixt two horses. A chestnut mare and a bay gelding. My new husband thought he might fool me with a fizzy beast. These had been my father’s and must have been part of the bride price. Neither were safe prospects, and the gelding could frighten himself at the sight of a bird. I could see why my father had thought to rid himself of them.
‘I will take the mare,’ I said.
She was as hot-headed as she was fast and was brave enough to jump anything I put her to, although I cannot say I was not frightened, I would show Sigurd what I could do.
He handed me the reins and tried to help me into the saddle, but I haughtily declined, throwing my legs to either side of the beast and settling my skirts. A ridiculous outfit to expect women to wear but I always somehow managed to make the best of it. I could feel her muscles ripple beneath me. I gripped with my knees as she began to jog beneath me. It took all the strength in my arms to hold her.
‘Now,’ he said as he sat on top of his horse. ‘I will show you how the Danes do it.’
He started to turn his gelding, and I let go.
‘You will have to catch me first!’ With a squeal, my mare took off.
I listened to the clatter of stone under her hooves and the soft thuds as we hit tightly packed earth. The landscape spread out around us as we rode east along the north shore.
He tried to keep pace, the sound of our laughter bubbling up over the crashing of waves. My soul felt truly wild. I pushed her on increasing my lead, standing in my stirrups with the wind whipping at my hair.
‘You are better at it than I thought,’ he shouted.
‘And you ride like a Dane.’
The cliffs gradually rose with each inlet we passed. Breaks in the rocks made for easy jumps as the waves slapped against stone. My mare did not falter, she cleared them with ease. We climbed further still, turning tightly to weave between broken bows and sterns that had been torn apart and cast aside by the sea. Now, only good for kindling.
I pulled her up somewhere near a cliff top that looked north across the ocean. Breathing heavily, my mare walked and danced as the sea churned fearsomely against the rocks. The sea-salted air dampened my face. I could barely hear my thoughts over its roar.
‘Why did you take so long, Lord?’ I shouted above the din.
‘You had an unfair advantage.’ He pulled up his gelding as close to my mare as he dared. ‘These were your father’s horses.’
I smiled then. ‘They are. Great beauties, yes but horses that even his best horseman could do nothing with. Looks can be deceiving, my Lord.’
‘Indeed, they can.’
My mare danced sideways. ‘Tell me, what is it that I am looking at?’ I pointed northwards towards what seemed to be land rising out of the sea.
‘It is Westray. It is part of Orkney.’
I had never truly grasped the size of our lands, even now, it still astonishes me how far our islands stretch.
‘All of it?’ Looking back, I must have sounded naive at best and at worst, ignorant. ‘Truly?’
‘Did your father not teach you?’
In truth, he had tried. He had spoken of our borders. Of the threats that lay just beyond them, but I never listened. I knew of nothing outside of hunting in our forests. I would disappear into those trees for hours with nothing but my hawk on my arm. A creature of wind and sky. I would feel my soul soar in unison. I was not meant to be a wife and a mother. I was meant to be free.
In the time before, before my mother had become blank and unreachable she would teach me the lute. She would even have me sing. Obedience. Servitude. Pursuits that would make for a good wife. I would be sent to the priest. The priest would admonish me and I would steal his parchments and hide them, whenever he tried to teach me letters. I hated him as much as he hated me. I hated them all.
‘No,’ I said. ‘He did not.’
‘Then there is at least something I can teach you.’ He held the reins too tightly, causing the horse to bare its teeth. ‘You can certainly ride better than I expected.’
