The musty smell of horses, sweat and manure mixed with the fresh aroma of hay assaulted her as soon as she entered. The horses neighed and snorted nervously as they sensed her presence.
She moved down the stalls, her hand coming out to stroke the soft noses as she passed. The warmth emanating from the horses was a welcome change to the bracing wind.
Stopping at the end, she stroked the neck of a horse that leaned his head over to push at her chest. “I don’t have anything for you to eat,” she said regretfully as he continued to nuzzle her.
She reached down into the feeder and brought a handful of oats to his mouth. Memories swamped her. She’d spent so many hours in the royal stables. Her father had gifted her with a beautiful stallion on her twenty-fifth birthday. Just three short months before his death.
Though his time was limited and his duties many, he’d always made time to go riding with her. They often raced back to the stables after a leisurely ride over the palace grounds. The last time they had ridden together was the first time she had ever won.
Her heart heavy, she turned and walked back to the front to wait for Merrick. After a quick check of his timepiece, she determined he had been gone seven minutes. Only three remained. She tamped down the tide of panic that threatened to bubble up her throat. He would be here.
At exactly nine minutes and several heartbeats later, he walked into the stable carrying two bags. He handed one to her then shoved a smaller parcel toward her.
“Something to eat,” he explained to her utter delight.
Not waiting a moment longer, she dug into it and found a still-warm meat pie. It was heaven in a crust. She could scarcely contain her moan of complete pleasure as she bit into the meat-filled confection.
She quickly consumed the rest, not stopping to enjoy it as she would like. Brushing the crumbs from her shirt, she took up the larger bag over her shoulder. “Which horses are ours?” she asked.
“The two in the front stalls.”
He quickly saddled both horses then secured their bags. As he led them out of the stable, he glanced over at her. “I forgot to ask, and I suppose I should not have assumed, but can you ride astride?”
She chuckled. “The better question would have been can I ride a sidesaddle. Indeed, I have always ridden astride.”
He held out a hand to help her mount then handed her the reigns as soon as she was settled. Afterwards, he swung onto his horse and took out ahead of her.
She urged her horse forward and followed him out of the village onto the north road. When she drew abreast of him, he looked over at her.
“It will be an arduous journey. We will only stop for a few hours sleep at best and to rest the horses as needed. I hope to be in Dover within two days.”
She nodded approvingly.
Soon they left the main road and began paralleling it as the countryside gave way to a less densely forested area. They were still afforded relative obscurity in the trees but were able to traverse the terrain with no difficulty.
After several hours, they came upon a small stream and stopped to let the horses drink and graze. Merrick dug into his bag and produced two sandwiches for them and a small bottle of wine.
She delighted in the sandwich and savored every bite. Having gone too long with little or no food, she had gained a new appreciation for even the simplest fare. He handed over the wine to her, and she drank from the bottle. It was coarse and not at all like the wine she was accustomed to, but she had never tasted anything better.
Handing the bottle back to him, she leaned against a tree and sighed in contentment. Having two meals in the same day was a luxury she was unused to and it felt wonderful to be full and sated.
“You will not go hungry again,” Merrick said darkly. “I won’t allow it.”
She opened her eyes in surprise and stared at him, again caught off guard by his perception. Embarrassed that he had been able to read her thoughts, she looked away.
“These months must have been hard for you.”
“Hopefully they will end when I have returned home,” she said lightly. Though she knew in her heart her hard times would only just be beginning.
After untying the horses, Merrick assisted her up and they resumed travel. They moved in silence, the midday sun warming her slightly as they continued their steady pace. The overcast sky had given way to a beautiful blue canvas. The leafless trees marked a stark contrast against such a beautiful background.
The frost had melted, leaving the ground soggy and covered with damp leaves. Were someone following them, they would be easy to track as the horses left fresh hoof prints in the mud.
Isabella shook her head, determined not to give thought to the perils of their journey. If they were fortunate, they would arrive in Dover unmolested and secure passage to Leaudor in less than two days. And she could forever say goodbye to England. If she never had to return, it would be too soon.
As the day drew on and the sun began setting, the air became colder. The horses’ nostrils flared and blew out their breath in a fog. Her legs were numb, and she drew them in closer to her horse, seeking his heat.
“We’ll move back on the road as soon as it is completely dark,” Merrick called out beside her. “We can’t chance becoming lost in the woods.”
