Chapter Fifty-Five
The ease with which Aina mounted Myrina made me balk with embarrassment, though it did not last long.
I was upon Erebus. Not any horse of the herd but Erebus. This was not like before, when I had clung to Aina as she steered Myrina. All responsibility rested on me.
I will confess I felt a great deal of fear throughout that first ride.
When Erebus followed Myrina to leap over a log and jolted my body forward, it felt as if my heart too had been thrown all the way up into my throat.
And when he first galloped, I thought I would fly from him and tumble to the ground. But I did not.
We rode until the sun shone directly down on us, and when we stopped, I lowered myself tentatively to the ground.
My muscles ached in an entirely new manner; my thighs, my back, my arms all throbbed from holding on.
Even the muscles along the backs of my hands trembled from how tightly I had clasped Erebus’s mane.
Though rather than feeling despondent at how much more difficult riding was than I’d anticipated, I reveled in the sensations.
While the horses grazed, Aina and I sat upon the grass, and despite the chill that still held stubbornly to the earth, I felt only warmth deep in my bones. I tilted my face up to the sun and was sitting there with my eyes closed when Aina spoke.
“I was not going to ride again,” she said.
My eyes snapped open.
“Why?”
Slowly, Aina turned to face me, her cheeks sucked inward, and I knew of what she was about to speak.
For a moment, I considered stopping her.
Telling her she did not need to share such things unless she wished to.
Only I realized that she wanted to talk.
She wanted to tell me, and I needed to listen.
“It was the horses that first drew him to me. That was what he said. He told me I was the one he had decided on the day he returned. You remember the day I brought you to see them? I rode Myrina.”
“I remember.” My voice caught in my throat. Aina had ridden to the village to fetch me. Had she not done so, Kakos might never have formed such a fixation.
“Aina, I am sorry.”
She looked at me with puzzlement.
“What for? This was not your doing any more than it was mine. No, I am grateful to you. I was going to let him take this freedom from me. But that was wrong.” Her gaze wandered to Myrina.
The bond between the pair was as profound as it was unyielding.
With a quiet sniff, Aina wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Nothing will ever take her from me again,” she said, and as the horse lowered her head and nuzzled the young woman’s chest, I sensed the animal felt the same.
Silence took hold. There were only seven years between us, half of the difference between Iphinone and me, yet at that moment, I saw Aina as a daughter.
A child whom I cherished and loved and would give my life to protect.
My heart yearned with the realization that it was likely to be as close as I came to motherhood, for how would the gods ever gift me a child now that I had killed another woman’s?
“Come, we should head back to the herd. The other women will be returning to the village soon. They will be wondering where we are.”
I mounted Erebus with slightly more grace this time, though he was far less at ease, and he jerked and jolted as he tried more than once to buck me off.
At Aina’s advice, we did not ride all the way back to the herd but dismounted farther up the river.
“They will find their way back to the others faster without us,” she assured me.
“And it is better we dismount now before you break your arm. But we can come again tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? I have work to do in the village,” I reminded her.
“Well, that is your fault for being responsible. I plan on doing nothing but riding all day.”
We chuckled.
“Perhaps I should give Erebus a day’s rest,” I tried instead. “I do not want him resenting me.”
“I do not believe he would ever do that. Myrina was just as objectionable when I first rode her. Honestly, you are far more skilled than I was when I started.”
I did not believe it was true but was grateful for her encouragement nonetheless. For the rest of the walk, we spoke easily, mainly about the horses, though when we crested the hill and the village came into view, Aina halted and stared out at the vista.
“Will you teach me?” she asked, her eyes still lost in the distance. “Will you teach me to use a bow and arrow?”
“You wish to learn to hunt?”
“I helped you with Erebus,” she said, avoiding my question. “You would not have ridden without me.”
“That is quite true,” I said. “And yes, of course. I will teach any woman who wishes to hunt.” I slipped my hand into hers, and as we took those last steps back toward Ninniya, I felt something I had not felt for several days. Hope.