Prologue
Jiana Awakens
The Legends of Greenstone
Book one
Eben MacManus
“It is better to love wisely, no doubt: but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.”William Makepeace Thackeray : Vanity Fair
Copyright 8 2018 by Eben MacManus
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations for review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2018
Second edition 2026
ISBN: 9798895914021Contact: [email protected]
Prologue
A bystander might have thought that the torrent of flaming hair streaming behind the rider was one with the stallion’s mahogany tail. Huge hooves vibrated and rattled the earth, and the rider felt the vibration in her ribs. The rhythmic flexing of the massive muscles between the girl’s knees harmonized with the intoxicating concert of pounding hooves.
Jiana awoke from the dream with a start, as though someone had called out to her. For one second, she remained still, surveying the blackness with narrowed eyes and probing ears. Indeed, she was alone in her bedroom. She closed her eyes and rolled over in a desperate but failed attempt to fall back into that sweet dream. Only a slew of mangled memories emanated from a mind that couldn’t rest.
Bellicose came first out of the murk. She had chosen Bellicose, or the stallion had just as likely chosen her, when he was a yearling. A gift from her father gift on her sixteenth birthday. After breakfast that morning he rose from the table, swiped a napkin across his lips and turned away. She remembered being devastated that he had said nothing about her birthday.
“A…Oh. Oh yeah,” he half turned around. “I almost forgot. Go to the stables, you may pick any horse you want.”
That she managed to mind her manners and excuse herself from the table testified that at least some of her training in etiquette had not been fruitless. She grabbed her father in an enormous hug, kissed his cheek, and sprinted nonstop the entire distance to the last stable in the line. The stable where the marshal maintained a stock of horses he had reserved for the Duke.
Her maidservant, Emily, arrived breathless a minute behind her, by which time Jay had investigated a third of one side of the building, walking down the aisle peeking through the oak bars at each of the inhabitants. She had seen the yearling she wanted only once in the schooling ring, as though he was being kept away from her.
Emily stood in the doorway with her hands on her knees, panting, “What the Hades,” she gasped, “I never saw you run so fast.”
“Look,” Jay answered, climbing the rail on a stall.
The yearling’s coat was a close match to her own hair color. The colt eyed the unknown girl as she poised atop the gate. His ears stood like stiff sentinels, and white showed around eyes that looked almost disdainful. She saw a shiver run over his shoulders as he backed into the corner.
He stood close to 15 hands tall, and his coat, except for white socks, was a burnished russet blending into a deep chestnut. As Emily approached, the animal watched the two girls, wary now, but not showing fear. With Jay still balanced on the gate, he arched his neck, threw his head back, and uttered a whinny that served as a warning. He leaped forward, his head shaking and feet stamping.
Nerian, the ancient groom, arrived behind them. The Duke had apprised him earlier of the purpose for Jiana’s visit this morning. Decades of experience with horses and young ladies had prompted him to keep this colt away from Emily’s sight. A sigh exited his shaking head; he should have known better than to try that deception. He whispered, his low tone meant to be calming around his charges, “That one is trouble, Miss Jiana. His training is unfinished. He’s wild, he bites, and he kicks. You don’t want an animal like that.”
Too late the warning because she did want a horse just like that. This horse. More to the point, the horse wanted her; she sensed that with an instinct stronger than human perception. She flung her leg over the gate and dropped onto the straw before Nerian could further protest. The yearling pricked up his ears and stepped back but did not accost her. The next moment she leaned close to him, caressing his neck and whispering in his ear. Silly that she had not thought to bring an apple or carrot, but in truth this horse would not be susceptible to bribes.
She took her time, petting and talking to him for several minutes until his head lowered and he nickered in response. With her free hand she reached for a set of reins hanging on the wall and revealed them to the horse. Satisfied that he was not afraid, she slid the bit into his mouth and motioned for Emily to open the gate. Nerian’s eyes were almost as large as the horse’s, “My Lady?”
When they reached the yard, she led the horse around the perimeter until he turned his head and nuzzled her shoulder. She patted his neck one last time and bounded upon his bare-back before he could change his mind. He sprang forward with stiffened forelegs, rearing up only once as if to determine her merit. He turned as if to bite her leg, but settled for a headshake.
In three strides he found a gallop, and with a sharp veer to his right he cleared the fence with room to spare. Jay pressed her knees hard into his flank and grabbed his flowing mane with one hand. She hung on in exhilaration as he navigated through the castle at a rapid canter. At the main gate he broke back into a gallop to burst between startled guards. For at least a league across field and stream and fence, he maintained the pace. They came to a road leading back to the castle. He stopped, panting. Waited for her orders.
The test was complete; Jiana had passed.
Of course, her father later tried to renege on his promise of, “Pick any horse,” after the master advised him that she had selected the Percheron. But by sixteen, daughters are not without their wiles for handling doting fathers. The horse became hers despite his better judgement. “You be careful,” he advised, “If you get hurt, it will kill me.”
She recalled laughing all the way back to the stables. Then she had Emily pick her own horse.
“You can’t do that,” Emily protested, “These are not yours to give away.”
“My father gave me a horse. So…he wants me to ride. Your job is to be with me… So... you must ride too. So… you need a horse.”
“Pick a horse,” she ordered when Emily still hesitated.
Emily chose a smaller and gentler mare, and thanked Jay with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Jay later learned that Emily had, when the chance occurred, cleared the gift with Lord Le Baud. He told her that from this point on she should always assume that Jiana’s word was his word. And she was most certainly welcome to the mare.
Her head back on the pillow, a few tears managed to seep down Emily’s cheeks despite her best attempts to prevent them. Lord Le Baud was a memory now. She could find her father now only in her dreams or daydreams. Yesterday they had buried him.
