She had, aye, gazed into the stallion’s eye before, when first Alan warned her about him, had beheld the wildness there, the incipient defiance, the anger.
The defiance had now died. The anger remained.
Suddenly words filled her and went running out from her. None for the men around her, whom she near forgot existed. All for the soul of the beast.
Those, when she found them, she poured into the horse’s ear. “I ken, I ken. He has done the unspeakable, and ye hate him for it. I hate him too. Could ye no’ ha’ taken him down? I ken fine ye wanted to. Perhaps ye tried. Mayhap ’twas what turned him so hard against ye.”
Tempest’s ear flickered.
Alan, who’d paused outside the stall door, said, “Mistress, come awa’ out o’ there.”
She ignored him. Leaned still closer.
“He’ll kill ’er,” said one of the stable boys.
“Nay, he will no’.” Billy took a step forward from the wall.
Annista slid her arms around the stallion’s neck. She could feel the warmth of him and catch the scent of his sweat. She continued her crooning, not caring if the men could hear.
“We will mak’ it better.Iwill. I shall no’ let him harm ye so again.”
The stallion, wild, was a force with which one might reckon. But he’d been beaten into submission, and in his demeanor Annista sensed what had always been inside her sister. Robena, who would not kindle, who would not fight, who did not protest her fate.
Robena had needed protection which Annista, on some level, had always striven to provide. Until she could no longer do so.
A truth she would regret all her life.
Now the stallion, so fierce, had been taken down to a level where he could not fight back either—at least for the moment.
Annista would fight for him.
So she poured promises into the stallion’s ear, ones that the men ranged around her could not hear, before sitting back on her heels and looking at old Billy.
“What are ye doin’ for him? Why are ye standin’ there? Bring unguents and—”
“He’s down,” Billy said. “I’ve never seen this horse down nor drained o’—”
“He won’t get up till his hurts are soothed.”
“Mistress, I am doubting he’ll get up at all.”
“He shall. And how dare ye stand there doubting it? Move. Move!”
She got to her feet even as the stable master and the two lads stirred, coming to life and edging out of the box. She did not miss the look Billy gave Alan. A grimace and roll of the eyes.
“Bring unguents and liniment,” Alan instructed. “Ye ken what to do.”
When they were alone, Alan edged into the box. He moved cautiously, as if convinced the stallion would still rise and kick out with his great hooves. He reached for Annista.
“Please, come awa’. Let the grooms tend the horse.”
“If ye think I will abandon this animal—” as her sister had been abandoned. She waved her hands. “Look. Look what that monster has done to him.”
“I can see.”
“He is a monster. And I—I want to kill him.”
Alan stared at her. She stared back into his eyes. By God, had she said that aloud?
