At last he leaned back away from her.
“Like this?” Her voice came out as a squeak.
“Yup. Now get him moving.”
“...How?”
“Tell him to get on.”
“Get on?”
“Yup.”
The bull’s tail twitched, but he didn’t move.
“Sternly,” Aevrin added. “You might wanna tap him on the haunch with that.” He poked the whip. But no matter what he'd said about using it gently, it just didn't sit well with her.
“Get on,” Cassia said, a little louder. “Get on. Get on? Please?” She spun her head around to face Aevrin, who was laughing silently. His dark eyes danced. There was a dimple at the corner of his mouth sweet enough to be her whole undoing.
She tried again.
“Get on, please.”
“You sound too gentle. You gotta be mean if you're just using your voice.”
She glowered at him.
“Wouldyoulike to help?”
“Oh, no, Miss Cassia. I’d much rather watch you figure it out.” Aevrin grinned roguishly and lounged back on the bench.
“Stubborn man. I don’t see what the army possibly wants with bulls.”
“They’re not all like Stal, miss. I gave you the laziest hunk of bull I could find.”
“Thanks for that.”
“And it’s the cows they want, mostly.Thoseare fierce.”
She flapped the reins helplessly. The bull turned over his shoulder, then swung his head back again. He took one step and stopped.
“I know this might seem frustrating, but I reckon it’s a sharp turn less scary than holding on to the bench for dear life while a bull like Tiny takes us flying. Say it again, like you mean it.”
She frowned at the backside of the bull, reminded herself she was fully capable of butchering the animal and cooking him some forty different ways, and turned her voice into a knife.
“Get. On.” The sound that came from her throat wasn’t one Cassia could ever remember making before, and she wasn’t sure she could summon it again.
Stal tossed his head. A burst of flame puffed from the bull's snout. He took a lurching step forward, then another, and fell into a steady, lumbering rhythm. Aevrin whooped and dragged his hat off his head to wave it in the air like a spectator at a cellar boxing match. They slowly rattled forward at a pace Cassia was certain she could beat without breaking into a jog.
“Tug the right rein just a bit for a second. That’s it,” Aevrin instructed. The bull swung around slowly, hauling the cart onto the dirt road that led towards town. “Well done. We’ll be there in three hours or so, I reckon.”
“I thought we were just going into town!” She looked at him in alarm, her arms straight out and clutching the reins. Aevrin shrugged, a soft smile on his face, and leaned back against the bench. He kicked one foot up onthe footrest, the picture of wicked nonchalance, then leaned over to tap the inside of her elbow, getting her to relax her arms down.
“Yeah, well. Only if you get him to pick his hooves up faster,” Aevrin said.
“How do I do that?” she asked quickly, frustration bubbling up. “Get on!”
Stal snorted, head bobbing as he pulled the cart.
