Read Online In Pursuit of the Green Lion by Judith Merkle Riley - Free Book Online

solar in the care of a ferocious fellow named Broad Wat, a onetime pikeman who had followed him through all the Scottish wars. This worthy had instructions not to let them out of his sight until a nursemaid of sufficiently dragonlike qualities should be located.
    “You should count them lucky,” said Gregory after supper one day, “he used to lock me in the cellar on bread and water for far less. And there’s a veritable legion of spiders down there.”
    “He’s very hard. He’s frightened me since the first day I laid eyes on him.”
    “Oh, do cheer up, Margaret. At least he’s never heaved a bench at you. But whatever made you wade in after Urgan, feeling the way you do about Father? It’s a miracle you weren’t killed.”
    “I just saw him rolling and squealing there, all bloody, and I felt so sorry for him. That’s all. So I had to. I never thought about it. I might not have, otherwise.”
    “Sorry? For a horse? You are strange sometimes. You had better save your sympathy in the future—warhorses are trained to maul humans, and I’d really like you to stay away from them. He could have smashed your head like an eggshell, and then where would I be, Margaret? And Urgan’s famous all around the shire for his bad temper. Father got him at a bargain after he killed a man, and he’s lost his head groom to him since, as well. Father’s just too stubborn to get rid of him. He’s convinced he can breed the height into his line, and breed out the bad temper. Oh, well, I suppose you’d have seen Urgan’s eyes too.”
    “How did your father know how I learned how to ride? I’ve never even told you that I always sat on the grain sacks when Father led the horse to the mill—that is, when we had a horse.” Gregory winced. I knew it was something I shouldn’t ever mention again, at least while we were in his father’s house.
    “Father knows everything, when it comes to horses. He’s never wrong.” He looked at me speculatively. “You’re afraid of them, too, aren’t you? Horses, I mean. Father knew that too. He told me the first time he saw you mounted. How did you ever get to your country place in the summer?”
    “You saw the little white mule in the stable? That’s mine. Master Kendall got it for me.”
    “And it sits there still, eating its head off, until the country property is settled. Father says it’s a total waste, and ought to be sold.”
    “He won’t sell it, will he? He won’t sell my mule or my house? Don’t let him, Gregory. It all comes to you, not him. Remember that we were happy there, and can be happy still.”
    “Father’s the head of the family, and I owe him obedience—but if there’s enough for the upkeep, after all these lawyers get through, I will. But you know, in this family, you can’t be seen mounted on a mule. It would irritate Father, and there’s no telling what he’ll do when he’s irritated.”
    “But—but—”
    “No buts,” he said gently. “You’re on his good side now, and I won’t see you lose it. Don’t look so worried. You’re brave enough, in other ways. You just sit a horse like a coward. I can fix that.” His voice sounded warm and strong. It would have convinced anyone that the thing was easy.
    So, much to my mortification, that is how I found myself the very next day atop a dreadful mountain of a beast, mud flying from beneath its hooves as it cantered in circles at the end of a lunge line.
    “Sit up straight, Margaret! Quit clutching like that!” Gregory held the line in his left hand, flicking the long whip in his right whenever the horrid creature faltered. And, of course, I couldn’t help noticing how tall and well made he was, and how strong his hands looked as he paid out the line, and this sort of distraction came close to costing me dearly more than once.
    “So what are you going to be doing now?” he asked as we walked from the stables.
    “Sitting quietly for the next week until I quit aching,” I answered, brushing