Page 16 of Beyond

“Ramps?” asked Kordas.

“Aye. It’ll get ’em used to going in and out so they’ll be ready on the day.” He turned to Kordas and winked. “Always good to think ahead.”

“Always,” Kordas agreed. “Send one of the lads to me if your Landwise sense tells you anything I need to know.”

“That’s a promise,” said the Squire. “Now, the day’s getting on, and none of this is getting our work done. Good to see you, Kordas.”

That was a clear dismissal. “Good to see you as always, Squire,” Kordas replied, touching two fingers to his hat in farewell.

And with that, Lesley went off on some other errand of his own—possibly to see about getting those extra hulls moved to his fields—and Kordas went on his way.

hat am I supposed to do now, Grim?” Delia asked, once she had edged into Arial’s loose-box. The mare looked entirely different from the exhausted, suffering creature she had been last night. She’d gotten a rub-down and grooming since then, and a good sleep, and she was very much aware of everything going on around her precious foal. And with Delia in the box with her, she had gone tense and wary, ready to either flee or attack to protect her baby.

“Take this,” the stablemaster said, handing her a brush over the wall of the box. “If you’re going to be able to handle that foal daily, you need to get on well with her dam. Hold out the brush so she can see it. Wiggle it a little until she acknowledges you’ve got it and reacts.”

Delia obeyed; Arial focused on the brush, recognized it, and snorted once, then turned her attention to her hay, her entire body relaxing. She knew what a brush meant, and she was looking forward to it.

“Now go brush her neck,” said Grim. “Softly and gently. This isn’t meant to be a cleaning, it’s meant to be a treat. Right now, Star’s taking all her cues from her mama, so the more you make Arial relax, the more relaxed the foal will be.”

Delia approached the mare slowly and carefully, as the foal peeked around her dam’s buttocks. At the first touch of the brush, Arial sighed and sagged a little, then leaned into the brushstrokes. Arial even stopped eating, the better to appreciate the slow, steady pressure of the brush on her neck. Now exceedingly curious, the foal came around to sniff Delia’s elbow—and Arial did not object.

“Now hold out your free hand to Star,” ordered Grim. “But keep it close to your body. You want her to come to you, you don’t want her to think you’re grabbing for her. She hasn’t learned anything yet, so everything she does is either going to be what was born into her or what she picks up from Arial. If you move fast, she’s going to assume you are something that wants to eat her.”

Delia brushed with the right hand, and slightly extended her left. The foal made several false approaches before deciding to come close enough to sniff the hand. Satisfied that Delia wasn’t some sort of monster that was going to snatch at her, she moved closer still, coming in to sniff Delia from her ankles to her chest. Delia crooned nonsense at her, and the foal flicked her ears at the unfamiliar sound. Her fingers itched to touch that soft coat and curly mane, but she did as Grim was telling her.

“That’s good. Let her get used to the sound of your voice, too. Try putting your hand on her neck. If she lets it stay there, start scratching,” Grim said. “Don’t stop brushing Arial.”

She couldn’t have stopped brushing if she’d tried; Arial was now leaning into the brush strokes with pure pleasure, eyes half-lidded, a forgotten strand of hay sticking out of her mouth.

“Easy, baby,” Delia said to both of them. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make you feel good.”

The foal’s ears twitched again. Arial moved her head a little, saw what Delia was up to, considered things for a moment, and closed her eyes completely. Evidently she was of the opinion that someone who was so superior at brushing was safe to have around her precious baby.

Moving with exquisite care, Delia set a hand on Star’s neck. The foal’s skin shivered under the unexpected pressure, but as Delia started scratching, she settled. Her ears flicked toward Delia again, and she moved a little closer, to get more scratches.

“There you go,” Grim said with an air of triumph. “You’ve got them both now. Keep that up until one of them gets bored.”

“Won’t that mean I’ll be here all day?” Delia objected.

“Foals don’t have that long an attention span. Just give her a moment.”

Delia scratched until she had covered every bit of the foal she could reach without moving. At about that time, Star did get bored, hungry, or both. She pulled away and stuck her head under her mother’s flank, seeking milk.

“I can’t believe that last night she wasn’t even born, and now she’s up and trotting around!” Delia said softly. “Puppies and kittens aren’t like that.”

“That’s because she’s a prey animal. Prey babies have to be able to run from the time they’re a few hours old. Leave her alone a moment, and hand me the brush,” Grim told her, and when she had passed it over, continued, “Now rest your hand lightly on Star’s back. Maybe scratch a little if she doesn’t object.”

Star was too busy drinking to object. At Grim’s direction, Delia put both hands on the foal’s back, with a very little pressure. “We’re getting her used to the idea of weight on her back, so when the time comes for her to wear a saddle, and then to allow you to ride, it will all seem normal,” Grim told her. “This morning is going to set the path for her for the rest of her life.”

By lunchtime, Star was allowing Delia to run her hands all over the foal’s body, pick up each hoof, drape her arm over Star’s neck and hold her close, and put a couple of grooming cloths on the foal’s back, where they rested as Star moved around her mother. Stafngrimr pronounced himself satisfied with the day’s progress. “You come back here tomorrow morning, and do the same on your own. You’ve both learned the early lessons, now you both need to repeat them for a while. You won’t need me for a few more days. Now, a couple things I want you to be wary of. On no account do you ever let her rear at you, not even in greeting, not even in play. You put your hand on the top of her head and her forehead, use gentle pressure to keep her head down, love on her head, and make her stand still if she tries. You don’t let her nip at you, not even a nibble. If she goes to mouth you, you put your hand on her nose and pet it until she pulls it away. The best thing you can do to prevent nibbles and bites is to pet her head when she touches you with her nose.”

“Not swat her?” Delia asked.

“That’s the last thing you want to do. Horses lunge and box in play out in the field. And she’s faster than you. You don’t want to get her into that habit, because you’ll never connect in time to correct her, and it becomes a game, one she controls.” Grim patted her shoulder. “The big thing she needs to understand is that in this partnership, you’re the lead mare.”

Delia nodded. “So I do this every morning until about lunch?”

“About that long. After a few more days here in the box with her dam, introducing her to the halter, and getting the halter on her, we’ll have you do the same things out in the pasture. Pretty soon she’ll connect you with being scratched and petted, and she’ll come to you without calling for her, unless she’s in a full-out romp with the other foals.” Grim laughed. “Don’t worry, she’ll notice you eventually, and come.”