It was a good thing Dacian moved as quickly as he did because he’d only just gotten clear when Gerard brought Démon sailing over the low wall, the young man lying low over the great horse’s neck. Dacian looked on in admiration as Gerard landed, eyes shining with delight. Knowing all too well he shouldn’t be entertaining such thoughts, Dacian shook his head at his own inappropriate musings. Dragging his attention back to de Leison’s training, de Creil watched as Gerard encouraged Démon up the slight incline onto level ground. Dacian followed, his mind still in something of a whirl. Abruptly, he heard an exclamation, a horse whinnying and he topped the rise just in time to see Gerard fly over his mount’s head.
Damnation! Dacian hadn’t realised how high the water was in the stream, there must have been more rain then usual in the mountains that fed it.
Démon didn’t like water at the best of times and this certainly wasn’t one of those. Dacian rushed forward, noting absently that even though Gerard was soaking wet, still lying where he’d fallen among the rushing water, he was struggling to hold onto the horse’s reins. Démon was bucking and rearing determinedly and before Dacian could reach Gerard the animal was dragging his student along the rocky streambed.
“Let go!” Dacian shouted. He didn’t want to risk Gerard being hurt any more than he already was, and holding onto the animal just wasn’t worth it. Damn but the boy was stubborn! “Release him, I say! He’ll make his own way back.”
Finally Gerard did as he was bid though just as he released the horse, he was pulled again to roll over on his left side, the water almost covering him. Dacian reached him a moment later, wading through the swirling water, pulling the younger man up, grabbing him under his arms and dragging him out of the water.
“Lord, but you’re stubborn,” the captain grumbled as he laid his charge on the grass.
“And wet,” Gerard muttered, followed immediately but a bout of coughing.
“Swallowed some water there, boy,” Dacian said, rubbing his back in an attempt to ease his coughing.
“Not a boy,” he managed between coughs, “almost twenty-four.”
Dacian laughed, “Ah, nearly middle aged like me then.”
Gerard looked over his shoulder, and Dacian found he couldn’t look away from those piercing blue eyes. “You’re not middle-aged, you’re in your prime!”
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