Dawn of Wonder (The Wakening Book 1) by Jonathan Renshaw Read Free Book Online Page B

storm-tossed
branch. Suddenly Bluster pricked his ears at a scuttling noise outside. Aedan
recognised his chance; he quickly slipped the bridle on and over the focussed
ears, securing the buckle while his pony stared out into the darkness.
    “Are you ready?” he whispered over the low wall
into the adjacent stable, feeling a good measure of pride at having tacked up
first.
    “Almost,” Kalry replied. “Just setting the stirrup
length.”
    Aedan cringed. He had forgotten about that. Saying
nothing, he pulled the stirrups down from the saddle and estimated that his
feet would swing freely above them with a few inches to spare. He tore at the
leather buckle, yanking in a good foot of the strap and secured it again at the
highest possible notch.
    “I’m ready,” she said.
    Aedan darted recklessly under the pony’s belly and
repeated the procedure, wishing the leather would not creak so.
    “Aedan?”
    “Yes,” he replied, leaping against the saddle and
scrambling up until his foot could reach the stirrup that was now some height
above the ground. “I’m ready.” He looked at the dark shape of the stable door
blocking his exit, muttered something and slid down again, the saddle pulling
his shirt up and grazing his belly. He eased the door open. Kalry was already
on her way out. He repeated the scrambling mounting operation, but this time Bluster
had no reason to stay put, and walked out the stable with Aedan still clawing
his way up.
    When he finally seated himself he couldn’t reach
the reins – they had slid down the pony’s lowered neck. Fortunately, Kalry’s
pony stepped in front causing Bluster to raise his head just enough for Aedan
to strain forward until his joints were popping, grip the leather with the tips
of his fingers, and draw it back with a gasp. He tried to stifle his ragged breathing.
    “Now we reach the difficult part,” Kalry
whispered.
    Aedan said nothing, mostly because he didn’t want
to betray his exhaustion.
    “It will be best if I lead. Stay close so we don’t
get separated in the mist. Are you alright? You seem quiet.”
    “I’m trying to listen.” It was sort of true.
    They walked the ponies with as much stealth as the
clip-clop of hoof on stone would allow. Soon they left the paved farmyard and the
horses’ tread dropped to near silence on the damp earth. It was an eerie
sensation, floating through the mist with the ground barely visible, the only
sign of movement the drift of pale eddies. Any sounds that reached them were wrapped
in a thick dreamy blanket.
    “I think we are getting to the gate,” Kalry
whispered. “I don’t want to dismount here, so I’ll try to open it from above.”
    They drew to a stop. After a few clinks of the
chain and a metallic groan, the heavy wooden beams of the gate loomed out of
the fog and swung past. Aedan hoped she wouldn’t ask him to close it. Perched
up in the air as he was, his short arms would never reach the top beam. He dug
his heels into the pony’s side and Bluster surged past.
    “Let’s take the juniper track,” Kalry said,
ignoring the gate. “It’s slower than the road, but less than half the distance,
and we can’t do any more than walk in this mist anyway. The track lets us drop
more quickly and the mist might clear up as we get lower.”
    Aedan grunted. He hated the track. When the horse
aimed uphill, all was well – holding on presented little difficulty. When the
horse aimed downhill, it was like sitting on the side of a perilously steep
roof, always at that desperate point of sliding off. And this was a roof that
bounced and lurched and made unexpected grabs at succulent shoots of grass and
reeds. Once, not too long ago, he had lost his grip and gradually advanced down
the horse’s neck in a smooth buttery slide until he ran out of horse and
dropped off the end. He would make sure that did not happen again.
    He saw Kalry swaying easily with the pony’s motion
as they walked away down the path. He braced