Generation One: Chapter 10 - Crash Landing

Chapter Ten - Crash Landing

“Tell me again why you have to teach our son to ride one of your horses?” My wife asked as I rubbed the bulge that was our third child.

“I told you my dear, that all Darcys ride. I agreed to wait until he and Fred were older, and now they are.”

“Just promise me that Ellen won’t go near a horse for a few more years. She tries to do everything he does.” She asked. I understood her worry. Our little girl thought her brother could walk on water and wanted be just like him.

“I promise.” I said, putting my arms around her waist.

“And promise me that you will be careful. I know you have been riding a long time, but I worry so…” She said, holding me tight.

“Always.”

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“I bet I can have a better round than you!” Henry called from the back of his stallion Arthur to his cousin.

Fred, astride his horse Wilhelm, replied “Cannot, you always get at least one fault no matter how hard you try. Face it, cousin, I am the superior rider.”

“Is that a bet then?” Henry called back.

“If you lose, you have to explain to Ellen why she is too young to ride yet,” Fred replied.

“If I win, then you have to!” I just shook my head at the boys’ antics, as I watched from the side of the training yard.

“Alfred, Henry, stop making bets neither of you want to keep and ride the course.” I said. Those two had begged for riding lessons as soon as humanly possible, and now that they were no longer children, their mothers had consented. I was all for having them in the saddle years ago, but Caroline and Charlotte had overruled me. They said something about child safety and being too young to keep a proper seat. Women.

 The young riders had finally ceased their argument and done as I asked.  Henry was up first, soaring over the jumps without incident. He finished, and rode away from the course, smirking.

It was Fred’s turn now. The first few jumps were clean, but then on his fourth jump, he didn’t manage to completely clear it, and the wall tumbled down.

“Yes!” cheered Henry. “I win!”, while Fred just scowled.

 “Alright, time to go back to the house. Your history lessons start soon.” I said. “And I need to ride out to speak with the steward.  Henry, tell your mother I will return in time for supper. Fred, if you make Ellen cry you will muck out Gregorian, Wilhelm and Arthur’s stalls for the next month. And if I hear you were late for your lesson, there will be no riding for a long time. Your teacher complains that you have no punctuality. ”

“Of course Father!” yelled Henry as he spun his horse. He challenged Fred to a race, and they galloped back towards the manor. I sighed. Boys will be boys.

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I was late.  My business with the steward had taken longer than I had expected and the sky was darkening overheard.

I urged Gregorian on, ready to be with my family instead of alone in the saddle. 

But then, out of the shadow, came a blur and Gregorian reared, terrified. I tried to stay in the saddle, but I could feel myself slipping.

 I caught a glimpse of the face of the man who had spooked my horse, and as I flew through the air, I felt cold. 

It was Richard Gisbourne. 

My last thought before I hit the ground and everything went black, was of my wife. I had broken my promise to her.