Bericus sighed again. “Much as I hate to leave you, lad, we’ve got to move on today,” he said, and I nodded, feeling a numbness; but I really did understand. “We’ll leave you provisions and you can follow at your own pace. It’s a good road all the way to Glevum from here. And you’re sure to catch up with us before Bravonium, or by Virconium at the very latest.” He put one hand on my shoulder and gave me an encouraging shake. “We must make good time while we have the weather.”
“I understand, Lord Bericus.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Iswy’s smug expression, and I drew in a deep breath to steady myself against the hatred I felt for him.
And so I had to watch as the camp was cleared, packs secured to the ponies, the mares and stallions bridled or haltered. I stood holding Spadix’s lead rope. I tried not to look in Iswy’s direction, not to see the triumph on his face when he was given the stallion to ride.
But it was Bericus himself who stood at the stallion’s side for a leg up.
I held my breath, for although I knew that the Companion was a very good horseman, he was not the master that Comes Artos was. The stallion jibed under him, bucking in place at the unaccustomed weight on his back, snorting and arching his neck, trying to pull against the reins. Finally he moved out, still snorting and sidling. I really shouldn’t have taken note of the apprehension on Bericus’s face. Nor noticed the way Bericus tucked his long legs as tightly to the stallion’s sides as he could. I think that was part of the trouble; the rider was saying “go” when he meant “no.”
They had no sooner got to the head of the column than Cornix squealed, got his head down, and bucked. Three mighty heaves of his big frame, and Bericus was sprawled on the ground.
Someone tittered. Both Canyd and I looked in Iswy’s direction but he had his head turned away.
Cornix did not run off, as everyone seemed to have expected; for immediately they had spread out to catch him. He trotted back the way he had just come, ears pricked, and then stopped to stretch his neck toward Spa-dix, beside me. He whuffled as if asking why Spadix was not moving out. I quietly caught the trailing reins.
Bericus was shaken by his fall; dusty but not hurt. There was a rueful expression on his face as he brushed himself off and came back for the stallion.
“Iswy!” he called, taking the stallion’s reins from my hand, and I shivered with the unfairness by which Iswy had got the ride. “Let’s see if you can stay astride. Unless anyone else wants to try?” And he grinned as he glanced about the circle of men.
“He won’t stay up either,” Canyd said in a low voice meant only for my hearing.
“He won’t?”
Canyd chuckled and folded his arms across his chest. “Watch.”
Boldly, and with a very smug smile on his face, Iswy ignored the helpful hand Bericus held out and, gathering the reins in one hand, vaulted neatly to the stallion’s back. The stallion flicked his fine ears and shifted his feet, but he stood there. I groaned softly, disappointed in Cornix’s loyalties. Decius brought up Bericus’s customary mount and gave the Companion a leg up. I heard what could only have been a sigh of relief from the man, and then he gave the order to move out.
Iswy guided Cornix in behind Bericus’s horse. As he did so, he shot a self-satisfied glance over his shoulder at me, standing by my poor lame pony.
He got no more than a few lengths from us when Cornix abruptly twisted, dropped his shoulder, and sent Iswy plowing his length in the dust. Canyd contented himself with a snort but I had to turn away so Iswy couldn’t see the breadth of my smile.
The look on the Cornovian’s face as he sprang up from the roadway was vicious. As he followed the stallion back to Spadix, I saw his hand go briefly to the slingshot looped over his belt.