Timestamp: 30th of Winter, 518 A.V.
There was always a benefit in training. Kelski knew that for a fact. It was harder and harder, however, to find a way to train to make things harder for her when it came to her daggers. One thing she had learned early on was that she wasn’t an easy rider. Moth was a good horse, but Kelski wasn’t a good rider. Anja had drilled it into her head that for her to get better, she had to spend more time on Moth’s back. She’d learned quickly that sitting on Moth and trying to hit anything with a dagger thrown from that position just threw Kelski off something horrible. The first time she’d tried it, Kelski had almost sliced open Moth’s neck. She’d tried to grab his mane with a dagger in hand and if Ebon hadn’t been on hand, Moth might have taken lasting offense.
Luckily, with Anja’s help and a bit of riding on Maisa, Kelski was slowly learning to improve. She’d graduated back to her own horse, who was a lot nicer than Maisa was. Maisa was good about snaking her head around and snapping at Kelski’s knees when she gripped her wrong with her legs or shifted her weight badly. Where Moth was a kitten, Maisa was a full grown tiger in terms of attitude. And before long Maisa had Kelski riding without hands, gripping with her legs. Once she did it comfortably, finally getting the hang of it, Kelski had switched back to Moth and had started tossing daggers from the horse’s back at a walk.
That had took some doing. It was harder at a trot since Moth had a rough rough trot. His canter was better, smoother, and Kelski was able to dual wield and throw daggers at stationary targets riding by. The pair practiced for hours, sometimes supervised by a Drykas or Strider, sometimes alone. Until one day Maisa had come trotting down to the beach where Moth and Kelski had been practicing carrying what looked like one of the knife targets from the basement with a hole in it, a rope tied through it and Anja grinning like a fool.
Anja had patiently explained Maisa had an idea and he’d worked on that idea by building the target and threading the rope, and then padding it on the other end with a big non-slip knot that fitted around Maisa’s neck. The mare took off running erratically all over the beach, and the target had bounced and skidded – no burden to the horse – making something actually challenging for Kelski to throw at. It was like a big fat target dragged several safer feet behind the horse. And Maisa could move so the target danced and skipped on the ground like a fleeing man dodging knife throws. Coupled with the fact that Moth had to trot and gallop to keep the target in range, Kelski’s ability to both ride and dual wield and throw her daggers at the same time started to grow in leaps and bounds.
And that’s what the Kelvic was doing at the moment. She was racing her little grey gelding up and down the beach following a bigger smarter strider who was wearing no tack but dragging a target. So far, throwing hard, Kelski had hit the target nearly every time. The one time she had not, they all stopped to retrieve the lost weapon. The girl nearly fell off twice when both horses swerved. She had a hard time concentrating on throwing daggers and gripping horse flanks at the same time. And finally she did fall off a third time when both horses jumped a fallen log that Kelski hadn’t seen due to the fact her eyes were following the target not the horses. Maisa had jerked and swerved, sending the target to the right sharply where it skidded around the log, not snagging its rope. Kelski squealed, lost both her daggers as she fell over the back of Moth’s rump, and ended up tucking into a tumble. Standing up, she shook her head as she swore both horses bucked and whinnied in victory before circling back.
Kelski had no tack on Moth because Anja had been teaching her to ride like a Drykas. But Maisa was still burdened by the target. Kelski reached both horses, slipped the targets rope off Maisa’s neck, and shook her head. “Enough for today. Thank you, my friend. Will you see your little brother home safely? I am going to hunt up the beach and see what I can find. My ass is sore. My pride is busted… and I think I need to redeem myself doing some hunting.” She added.
Kelski wrapped up the rope and large wooden target and slipped it into her backpack. It was a tight fit due to the wood slice being a foot across, but it did wedge into the bag if worked through the mouth carefully. She retrieved both daggers, shook her head at the horses, and watched as they took off down the beach, splashing in the waves. Maisa was a strider and was as intelligent as a person. Moth wasn’t so lucky, though Anja had once said he was part strider with his dark grey points and stripes blended into his white dapples. But Maisa would see him herded up to the barn once they both played in the waves to wash their sweat off and then grazed in the tall beach grass for a meal.
Once both horses were released from duty, Kelski started trudging up the beach, wondering what she should start hunting for. She had long since ridden past the docks and was to the south of The Mudway, heading south outside of the city. It was still early morning, but the air was crisp and clean, almost cold, and there was no rain threatening.
It would be a good day to bring home some fresh meat to the family.