TWELVE - Covert Affair

Edlawit was riding Arcadia, Arous’ dappled-grey Andalusian up and down the river when she spotted the strange Desperado riding on the opposite bank. She called out to him.

“Hey!”

The Desperado stopped his horse and turned to look at her as if he was thinking.

He was tall and lanky, his skin was sun-kissed but for an Amalgamese he was very light: lighter than the tanned leathers he wore. He looked dusty and worn around the edges but young and bright. He couldn’t have been older than Edlawit. As his large black horse danced, a poisajo jumped up from the horse’s bridle and landed back down between the horse’s ears. Something red gleamed around the underside of one of the poisajos wings.

He was cute.

“Hey!” she called out again. “Who are you?”

He pulled a woven blanket from over the top of his English saddle. The ewe lamb looked up at her and bleated.

“He recognizes your voice,” he said.

“I’m his shepherd, of course he does,” she said. “There’s a bridge just that away,” she said. Edlawit pointed to her right.

“I’ll race you,” he said and kicked his horse ahead.

He was half-way across and waiting for her when she got to the bridge. The ewe lamb was resting peacefully on his saddle. She rode up beside him and he passed the lamb to her. She took a minute to look in his face and notice that he was not full Amalgamese. Very few people in Alippiana were anything but Amalgamese. He was blond. His skin, though golden was light and freckled; from under the brim of his hat shown blue eyes.

He was beautiful.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Edlawit asked.

“That’s quite obvious,” he said.

“Where are you -” Edlawit began.

“There’s something else. This message -” he said. The poisajo tied to the horse’s bridle carried a dot. “This message is for your mistress.”

“My mistress?”

“See that she gets it.”

He wheeled his horse around and rode off. “Hey!” she called out after him. “If you’re going to wear a disguise, try a little harder next time.”