Excerpts from
The Silver Horse
By Lene Kaaberbøl
When Kat
woke up early next morning, she knew that she was going to do something
forbidden.
She must
have decided it in her dreams, as she had definitely not thought of it the
evening before. If she had she would not have been able to fall asleep.
She wanted
to ride the silver horse. She had to try. Just to sit on it for a moment in the
box, just to feel what it was like. She slipped carefully out of bed without
disturbing Mattie. She had had her clothes in bed with her to ensure that they
did not get cold and damp during the night. But instead of putting them on
straight away she pressed the bundle of clothes against her body and crept out
onto the steps in cold bare feet. The chill gave her gooseflesh so that all the
small hairs on her arms and legs bristled in all directions. She sat a little
way down the steps and put on her clothes. Then she sneaked down the remaining
steps to the scullery. She could hear faint sounds coming from the kitchen. Tad
had already started baking. He would not expect others up now …It was still
almost totally dark. There was just a suggestion of light in the sky above the
stable, but not so much that one could
call it dawn. Inside the stable the horses were lethargic and heavy with sleep.
Only the ones most awake snorted in hope of food. But she hurried past them,
past the stalls to the box area. The silver horse stood with its head above the
door waiting for her.
It was as
though it had waited for her. As though it had known she would come. It was not
sleepy. It did not spring to its feet, shake itself, and stretch its hindlegs.
It just waited.
”Don’t you
sleep at night?” she asked it. ”Do you just stand there looking into the dark
with your night eyes?”
She did not
rush in and mount it straight away. First, she groomed it thoroughly, even
though it was not possible to see from its coat if it had being lying down. She
polished it with a cloth as though it was a silver tankard she had to make
shiny. She washed its legs with a sponge, even though it was unnecessary. After
a while she realised that she was just delaying things because she was as
frightened as she was eager. Don’t do it then, she said to herself. But that
thought was instantly unbearable. Finally, she pushed a toe between two of the
boxwall planks , placed a hand on the trimmed mane and mounted. At first the
horse stood motionless. Then a quiver went through its body, a quiver of
eagerness. The mare stepped to the door of the box in one long smooth movement
and leant its chest against it as though it would push it open.
”No,” said
Kat terrified. ”We can’t! Cornelius will kill me!” But there was already a
tingle of fear and expectation in the final words, because she knew that she
would do it anyway.
Translated by Ian Lukins
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