VaLkA

mare / four / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

The effect of Valka’s offer was almost immediate, restoring boisterous energy to the two boys who had fallen into the lead. Shaking her head ruefully, the fluffy chestnut rolled her dark brown eyes and exhaled her breath in a derisive snort, wondering how they could never tire. She certainly held no envy for their mothers, who would undoubtedly be bound to the colts until the coming spring. And for some of them, the cycle would then begin anew. Having no offspring of her own - and little desire to pursue such goals - Valka had never understood the appeal in chasing or being chased about by a loud, unruly gaggle of foals. Interacting with just two had tested the limits of the Yakut’s patience in a matter of an hour; to face an eternity of their antics sounded like a purgatory even worse than the one she’d spent in Paradise. If given the choice to tether herself to Rougaru or a child, Valka would have chosen the silver bay’s company without hesitation.

And yet… as the boundary of the Cove grew steadily closer, a strange regret stirred within the small mare. The colts’ enthusiasm and boundless energy had lent her a new perspective, and had also roused her from the irritable lethargy into which she’d fallen. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if Goose’s mate had a child, as long as she kept a close watch on the thing. And since it was inevitable that her herd should grow, perhaps it was best that she learned how to cope with the aggravating behavior before any children were born to the Bay. As skjaldmær, their safety would be her responsibility. The sobering thought filled her with a sinking sense of dread - as determined as these brothers seemed to slip their guardians, it was easy to imagine how spectacularly that she would fail.

Solomon. The pale son spoke his father’s name with pride, as he should - but the words were not received by Valka with as much enthusiasm. Though she had not yet encountered either of Tinuvel’s other rulers, it sounded as though her arrival - and subsequent claim of the Bay - had frustrated their plans. An unhappy king was an enemy to be wary of; monarchs were accustomed to having their way, and would employ any means necessary in order to do so. Perhaps the next time that she and Goose vied for ownership of this territory, the draft-like stallion would have an ally at his side. And no amount of prowess in battle - or luck - on her part was likely to grant her victory over two foes. Frowning, Valka plodded along in silence until the other boy’s question startled her out of her silence.

For the first time since she’d arrived on the islands, Valka laughed. “A skjaldmær does not need stallion to keep land or win battle. Goose is big stallion, and strong, but he still lose Bay.” She knew that for a child who had likely never known anything but what their own eyes had seen, this answer would not be enough. After a brief pause, the Yakutian mare continued. “In my tribe, women are best protectors, because they fight with brain as much as body. To be more than soldier who fight when and who he told, is not enough to just be strong - must also be smart.” The shaggy chestnut fell silent then, contemplating the mountains that loomed before them. Had they been youths from her own herd, Valka might have offered to apprentice them - a duty she would have one day faced if she had remained polinitsa to her people’s king. But she was not about to bolster the ranks of a potential enemy by offering to train his sons.

The terrain grew rocky and more treacherous as they arrived at the no man’s land between Bay and Cove. An unfamiliar but distinctly masculine scent marked the borders of this Solomon’s kingdom, and Valka was not keen to cross them. She had learned only a little of the stallion from the two colts he had sired, but enough to make her wary of an encounter with him. Slowing her strides until she stood motionless on her own side of the line, the Yakutian mare huffed to get the children’s attention, and then spoke. “From here you go alone, as we agree - no more adventures. And if I find in Bay again, next time I will bring straight back to parents, even if I must bite and kick.” Valka’s stony expression and dark glower left little doubt that she would be true to her threats. Having a steady stream of vagrant stallions visiting her home was bad enough.

With a flick of her ivory tail, the pony-sized creature turned to go - and then paused, her expression softening the smallest but as she regarded the colts one last time. “Odin vaka yfir þér, Solsveinn.” Valka called out in farewell. Then, lifting her small body on her hind legs, she pivoted and began to lope back down the slope, heading back to the Bay.

Heading home.