‘The Golden Mare’ by JM Landels

When the letter arrives, Saoira almost doesn’t take the time to open it. Her saddlebags are already packed and Mysa is hitched in the yard, tacked and waiting. The bulls-head necklet that Saoira never takes off told her yesterday evening that her son was sick or injured. She spent the night preparing, with only an hour or two for sleep. 

She is so impatient to be gone that she needs to read the missive twice before the contents register. The meat of the letter is almost a relief: that Lennis has broken his arm and a rib or two in a fall from his horse when hunting. He is not at death’s door, and a broken limb will keep him from his duties while his head, which no doubt was rung in such a fall, has time to heal as well. 

Reeth has been up most of the night too, and puts a slice of fresh-baked bread and a cup of hot milk in front of Saoira. “Eat before you go, love. That’s an order.” She takes the letter out of Saoira’s hand to read for herself. “It’s not from the Duke.” Allenis Andreg, Duke of Teillai, is Lennis’s employer, and though the former doesn’t know it, his father. Reeth has never met Allenis, and Saoira herself has not seen him since before Lennis’s birth. “Lauresa – isn’t that his wife?”

“It is. Lennis is often posted with the Duchess’s personal guard. But it’s from Theiron, not Teillai.”

“That explains why it got here so fast. Theiron’s a day away, not three. But why’s he there?”
Saoira chews a mouthful of bread, not noticing the moist warmth, nor tasting their best butter and Reeth’s superior plum purée spread lovingly on top. She is too busy combing her memories for a clue. “Lauriana,” she says at last. “Allenis’s second daughter is married to the Duke of Theiron’s son, I think. The Duchess Lauresa must be visiting her daughter.”

“Well, she writes that Theiron’s best doctor is attending Lennis, and he is resting comfortably,” Reeth says. “Are you sure you won’t take the coach and arrive dry and rested?”

Saoira dismissed that idea hours ago. “The coach takes the Næyvan road, and won’t arrive till late tonight. The south way is faster. And Mysa needs the exercise.” 

With a quick embrace and last minute reminders that Reeth doesn’t need, for she’s been helping Saoira run the dairy for more than two decades, Saoira sets off for Theiron in the driving rain.