by Alisa Adams
The men just continued to stare and smile, however.
Too flustered to respond.
It was always the same. Most could barely form a single sentence in her presence.
Be patient, my man will come, Ina said to herself.
Ina sighed and kicked Myrtle into a canter, then into a gallop. Myrtle’s huge hooves thundered impressively on the ground in oversized strides. The warriors immediately followed, putting their horses into a gallop as they tried to catch up.
The objective was to gallop towards the target and fling your dirk as you flew past. Timing was everything.
Ina saw a young, brash warrior fly past her on his horse, his kilt blowing up in the wind to reveal his thigh as he bounced all over his poor horse’s back. He came too close to Ina as he passed by, cutting her off and throwing her a triumphant grin. Myrtle threw her head up in the air with a loud whinny as Ina had to pull hard on her so she would not crash into the other horse. Ina frowned furiously and then pushed Myrtle faster, overtaking the smaller horse easily. She watched with satisfaction as the young man looked up at her in alarm as she surged up next to him. His unbalanced seat worsened and he started to fall sideways off his horse. Ina put out her arm and shoved him as hard as she could back into his saddle.
“Ye cocky mon! Hold yourself on yer horses back with your legs!” she called to him as she all but ran Myrtle into his horse to push him back into his saddle. She reached down again and pulled a dirk out of his belt and let it fly.
Right into the center of his target.
Then she quickly pulled out another dirk from her own leather waist belt and let it fly into the center of her own target. She galloped Myrtle past the target, slowing her down to a canter so she could turn her about. The big draft horse felt its mistress’s request. The horse sat back, taking her weight on its haunches, lifted up her massive shoulders, and spun around in place without breaking stride in the canter. The big horse immediately thrust forward with Ina’s urging and went galloping back to the top of the field. Ina’s hair once again had come undone, and was now spilling down past her hips, caught up in the breezes, flying out behind her and over her horse’s hips, blending in with its blond tail. Ina was a creature all of gold and sunlight on a golden horse.
The men stared in awe.
The young warrior who had almost fallen off came galloping up to stop beside her. Ina did not look at him. She kept her eyes on the other targets as the men finished. None had been as accurate as her own.
The young man smiled broadly at her and gushed, “Yer aim was true once again Lady Ina! You are so, so…” he stammered and blushed bright red. “...magnificent!” But he was speaking to her back since she had already turned her giant horse and began walking away from him. He could hear her talking to herself as she rode away.
He missed the roll of her eyes and the huff of her breath as she sighed dramatically. “Tis always the same!” Ina said to herself. “Where oh where is me hero? Where oh where is me own true love? Me sisters have found their own loves; Godet and Laird Gordon, Flori and Loughlin, and even Ceena and Tristan.” She sighed again as she looked towards the white castle on the hill, her beloved home Fionnaghal.
She and her three older sisters had fought hard to keep their home after their evil Uncle Mungan tried to take it from them and force Godet to marry him so he could have it. But he hadn’t won.
Ina stared with pride at the castle, which was on a hill overlooking the sea. Its name meant white shoulders. Ina sighed. She thought it was very romantic, and though its ancient white stones were crumbling in several places, it didn’t matter to her. Her sister Ceena and her new husband Tristan had brought in some men who were slowly and meticulously bringing the old girl back to her majestic self.
Ina rode Myrtle up towards the castle. She saw her two old aunts where they sat on their small Highland ponies watching the young men practicing on the field.
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This book is a work of fiction. Some of the characters are real historical figures, but the others exist only in the imagination of the author. All events in this book are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.
