Ganne


13 - A Genteel Suburban Riding Stables Sort Of Riding.


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The great hooves hammered the soft ground of the ride, raising a rhythmic
thunder.  A spray of earth and stones flew up as the War Charger thundered
down upon the trio clustered at the end of the greenway.

Crouched low over the beast's neck, Sarah urged the horse faster.  Her
expression was all determination, eyes gleaming with a wild light, cheeks
flushed with excitement.  The close confines of the ride, bounded by dark
firs, intensified the impression of speed.  She was enjoying herself
immensely.

Horse and rider pounded past the small group of watchers.  Sarah dragged
back on the reins.  The war charger pulled up short, kicking up a shower
of woodland debris.  Sarah swung easily down from the saddle.  She stood a
moment, patting the horse's neck, before turning to look at them over her
shoulder.  The smirk on her face had an undeniable quality of "I told you
so".

Genella did not know whether to be irritated or amused.  She stepped
forward, drawing her brown mare after her.  "I never doubted you for a
moment, Sarah," she told the smug young woman.  "Nor, I believe, did
Marlek."

"I know," Sarah admitted.  "This little demonstration this afternoon was
not entirely for your benefit;" and she looked pointedly at the Doctor.

"It's time we were getting back," he said, choosing to ignore her little
dig.  This little exercise this afternoon had been a bit of an eye-opener
for him.  He fancied himself au fait with the aptitudes and abilities of
his companions; it was not often that he was surprised by an unsuspected
talent.  Certainly, he had known that Sarah could ride; but he had thought
it a genteel, suburban riding stables sort of riding.

Nose a little out of joint, the Doctor headed for the paved road bounding
the plantation.  Leading his bey gelding, he pushed on ahead of the
others.  Once on the main way, though, he dropped back to walk beside
Genella.  He was, in fact, far more worried about the Ganne Witch than he
had been over Sarah's riding skills, or her physical endurance.

Every now and then, he had noticed with growing concern, that Genella
would take a good swig from a leather covered army issue canteen.  He knew
that it did not contain water.

For a while they walked in silence, leading the horses, and enjoying the
late afternoon sun shining on their backs.  The loudest sound was the iron
shod hooves ringing on the paved way.  Then, as the bottle rose for the
fifth time in twenty yards, the Doctor commented, "that won't do you any
good, you know."

Genella put the stopper in the bottle with more force than was necessary.
She slung the strap over the pommel of her mare.  Whatever the poison was
in the canteen, it had done much to relieve her haggard appearance.  There
was even a touch of colour on her cheeks.

She deliberately met the Doctor's snake eyed gaze, a wry smile livening
her expression.  Brushing a stray tendril of hair away, she said, "I know.
In the long run, it is going to kill me.  But I have been living without
hope for so long now, it doesn't seem to matter very much any more."

However, gazing into those snake eyes, Genella found it impossible to
maintain a mood of despair.  After a moment of silent introspection, her
spirits rallied; and to change the subject, she added, "this little
performance this afternoon was not necessary.  You only have to look at
Sarah to know that she has the seat as a gift.  You cannot learn that.
And you too, you sit the saddle like you were born to it."

The Doctor grinned an acknowledgement.  He pushed his hat back on his
curls and stared into the sky.  "I've had a long time to learn.  And I
wouldn't fancy my chances against Marlek in a race."

"He is good," Genella acknowledged.  She scowled suddenly.  'So it would
appear that I am the odd one out."

Diplomatically, the Doctor made no reply.

Genella laughed out loud.  "Doctor, you are a gentleman."

He tipped his hat, grinning at her.

Genella said, "we both know that I sit the saddle like a sack of beans.
But nobody has ever told me so."

"That doesn't surprise me," the Doctor admitted, still grinning.

Marlek, who had been chatting amiably with Sarah, broke off to look
around.  The sound of Genella laughing was a rare treat for his ears.  He
was startled to realise that the sound possessed a genuine gaiety.  The
Doctor, already high in his estimation, rose another notch.  Whoever the
strange man with the curly brown hair and strangely coloured eyes was, he
was proving a tonic for Genella.  Marlek felt good about that; it lifted
his heart to see her happy.  He had always liked the Ganne Witch, right
from the first moment of speaking to her.  He sensed the gentle, childlike
delight in everything which she had kept buried under the high Dishone
haughtiness she often displayed.  Even the petty spitefulness to which she
was occasionally prone, did nothing to diminish her in his eyes.  Though
he knew it not, he loved her, had done so from the first.  However, a
thought like that could not gain credence in his mind, given the wide
disparity in their status.

With a suddenly lighter heart, he turned back to face anew Sarah's
penetrating examination of him.  The woman was an absolute ferret for
information.  She seemed quite oblivious of the probing nature of her
conversation.

Genella was speaking again.  "It's not out of respect.  Not respect - just
plain old fear.  Nobody will ever dare to tell me anything they believe
will make me angry, in case I lash them with the Ganne." Then, at the
emerging look of disapproval on the Doctor's face, she added a trifle
defensively, "actually, it's just general fear of Ganne Witches.  I don't
Lash people very often - not without good cause."

"Ah now," sighed the Doctor, "and what, I wonder, constitutes a good
cause?"

Genella shrugged.  "Well.  I suppose us gannes do have a rather high
opinion of ourselves - plus some of us have the added handicap of being
High Born.  That's quite a handicap to overcome, you know."

"Yes, it would be.  I can see that," the Doctor agreed, his voice laced
with delicate irony.

When Genella spoke, she actually sounded contrite.  "I wasn't feeling very
well that morning.  Your familiarity got to me.  And then, when I lashed
you, and nothing happened...  I have never been so afraid."

"Oh, don't blame yourself.  I seem to get that sort of reaction everywhere
I land.  I do my best to try and be friendly, but it just seems to get
people's backs up." His eyes narrowed as he saw Genella reaching for the
canteen again; but he said nothing.  Tipping his floppy hat onto the back
of his curls, he peered around, then up at the sky.  Clouds were gathering
in the south; overhead the sky remained a deep blue green.  The low sun,
shining at their backs, sent their muddled shadows jumping and jerking
ahead of them towards the town.

"It's going to rain," the Doctor announced to no one in particular.


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