Page 17 of Rainshadow

“Right, yeah,” Flora said, hurrying to get up and brushing off her pants. “What can I do?”

They went into the arena where Mars was already saddled, nickering softly, waiting, his rein looped over a post by the arena’s entrance gate.

“I can’t…” Sylvia seemed to struggle to speak.

Flora only looked at her, waiting.

“I can’t climb up. I can’t ride today. He needs to be worked, though. Can you mount up and follow my directions?”

“Yes,” Flora said, nervous, but trying to sound confident, “of course.” Mars was a terribly unpredictable horse.

Sylvia stepped back and picked up a dressage whip as Flora loosened Mars’s reins from the post and pulled herself into the saddle.

A dressage whip is only supposed to be used to encourage and signal to horses, but Flora still felt a chill, seeing it in Sylvia’s small, white hand.

“Alright,” Sylvia said, “take him out, ride in a circle. I want to improve his trot to canter transition.”

Flora had done simple riding exercises like this with Lisa many times, but it had been a very long time and those horses had been slower, less spirited. Mars felt like his muscles were moved by tight, coiled springs, a finely calibrated machine. Hewas an athlete, a horse bred for precision dressage, and Flora could instantly feel the difference.

“Legs back,” Sylvia said, her voice steady and firm, but not loud.

Flora shifted her legs and heels back. Mars, she knew, was just as sensitive to her as she was to him. He knew she was inexperienced.

“And straighten your back. You’re leaning forward. This isn’t a rodeo.”

Flora nodded and straightened her back.

“Ok, now, get him up to a trot. All he needs is a click,” Sylvia said. Her darting eyes were on the horse’s legs, watching their every move.

Flora clicked her tongue, and the horse started trotting, a light, easy gait. She posted, rose up and down with the horse’s steps, but Sylvia corrected her.

“Post with the outside leg,” she said, still no hint of impatience in her voice. There was something about the horses that made Sylvia more human, and Flora was grateful for it.

“Tighten your rein, don’t let him toss his head.” Sylvia followed Mars with the whip, tapping lightly on his haunch, so that the horse lifted his back feet. “Ok, now, transition into a canter…” Sylvia watched closely, her eyes flickering, as the horse began its canter, nodding along with its steady, drumming rhythm.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Flora kept her head up, trying not to watch Sylvia.

“Now, back to trot…” Sylvia tapped the horse on his hindquarters and nodded. “Now back to canter…”

They worked like that until Flora, going in such tight circles around the arena, thought she would get dizzy.

“Ok, now trot then slow to piaffe,” Sylvia said.

Flora knew what that meant. She was expected to keep the horse in a trot without moving, lifting its legs in place. She pulled the horse to a full stop and Sylvia shook her head, clicked her tongue, and tapped the horse on its back haunch. The horse started trotting again.

“No,” said Sylvia, and Flora wasn’t sure who she was talking to, herself or the horse. Sylvia looked at her. “Can you slow him but keep him trotting? Have you done this before?”

“A little, not this move exactly,” Flora said, shaking her head. She was trying to somehow stop the horse and make it trot at the same time, but it only seemed to confuse Mars.

Sylvia sighed. “It’s a feeling,” she said. “You feel it. The horse feels it.”

Flora nodded, but felt herself begin to sweat. She tried again, and Mars leaped and did a little kick. “I’m sorry,” Flora said. She accidentally pressed her heels into the horse’s flank, and he rocketed like a Lamborghini into a canter. She yanked suddenly on the reins, and the bit dug into the horse’s mouth. Mars was suddenly lathering, frothing, and tossing his head.

“Stop!” Sylvia cried. “You’re hurting him!”

“I’m sorry!” Flora cried, and the horse skittered. She only tightened her legs, digging her heels in again. Mars tossed his beautiful head and stomped, kicked, then cantered wildly around the arena. Flora tugged on his reins, and the horse bucked, throwing her from the saddle as easily as flicking a bug off a shoulder. She landed with a painful thud into the hard dirt.

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