Graceling (Graceling Realm #1)(48)

And then she wondered: Could she get his attention, without saying a word? If she needed his help or wanted to stop, could she call to him in his mind? It must be possible; if a person within his range wanted to communicate with him, he must know it.

She looked at him, riding before her, his back straight and his arms steady; his white shirtsleeves rolled to the elbows, as always. She looked at the trees then, and at her horse’s ears, and at the ground before her. She cleared her mind of anything to do with Po. I’ll hunt down a goose for dinner, she thought. The leaves on these trees are just beginning to change color. The weather is so lovely and cool.

And then, with all her might, she focused her attention on the back of Po’s head and screamed his name, inside her mind. He pulled on his reins so hard that his horse screeched and staggered and almost sat down. Her own horse nearly collided with his. And he looked so startled and flabbergasted – and irritated – that she couldn’t help it: She exploded with laughter.

“What in the name of Lienid is wrong with you? Are you trying to scare me out of my wits? Is it not enough to ruin your own horse, but you must ruin mine as well?”

She knew he was angry, but she couldn’t stop laughing. “Forgive me, Po. I was only trying to get your attention.”

“And I suppose it never occurs to you to start small. If I told you my roof needed rebuilding, you’d start by knocking down the house.”

“Oh, Po,” she said, “don’t be angry.” She stifled the laugh that rose into her throat. “Truly, Po, I had no idea it would startle you like that. I didn’t think I could startle you. I didn’t think your Grace allowed it.”

She coughed, and forced her face into a mask of penitence, which wouldn’t have fooled even the most incompetent of mind readers. But she hadn’t meant it, truly she hadn’t, and he must know that. And finally his hard mouth softened, and a flicker of a smile played across his face.

“Look at me,” he said, unnecessarily, for the smile had already trapped her. “Now, say my name, in your mind, as if you wanted to get my attention – quietly. As quietly as you would if you were speaking it aloud.”

She waited a moment, and then she thought it. Po.

He nodded. “That’s all it takes.”

“Well. That was easy.”

“And you’ll notice it caused no abuse to the horse.”

“Very funny. Can we practice, while we’re riding?”

And for the rest of the day she called to him on occasion, in her mind. Every time, he raised his hand, to show that he’d heard. Even when she whispered. So then she decided to stop calling to him, for it was clear that it worked, and she didn’t want to badger him. He looked back at her then and nodded, and she knew that he had understood her. And she rode behind him with her eyes wide and tried to make some sense of their having had an entire conversation, of sorts, without saying a word.

———

They made camp beside a pond, surrounded by great Sunderan trees. As they unhooked their bags from the horses, Katsa was sure she saw a goose through the reeds, waddling around on the opposite shore. Po squinted.

“It does appear to be a goose,” he said, “and I wouldn’t mind a drumstick for dinner.”

So Katsa set out, approaching the creature quietly. It didn’t notice her. She decided to walk right up to it and break its neck, as the kitchen women did in the chicken houses of the castle. But as she snuck forward, the goose heard her and began to squawk and run for the water. She ran after the bird, and it spread its massive wings and took to the air.

She leaped and wrapped her arms around its middle. She brought it down, straight into the pond, surprised by its size.

And now she was wrestling in the water with an enormous, flapping, biting, splashing, kicking goose – but only for a moment. For her hands were around its neck, and its neck was snapped, before it could close its sharp beak around any part of her body.

She turned to the shore then, and was surprised to find Po standing there, gaping. She stood in the pond, the water streaming from her hair and clothing, and held the huge bird up by the neck for him to see. “I got it,” she said.

He stared at her for a moment, his chest rising and falling, for he had run, apparently, at the sight of the underwater struggle. He rubbed his temples. “Katsa. What in Lienid are you doing?”

“What do you mean? I’ve caught us a goose.”

“Why didn’t you use your knife? You’re standing in the pond. You’re soaked through.”

“It’s only water,” she said. “It was time I washed my clothing anyway.”

“Katsa – ”

“I wanted to see if I could do it,” she said. “What if I’m ever traveling without weapons and I need to eat? It’s good to know how to catch a goose without weapons.”

“You could’ve stood at our camp and shot it, across the pond, if you wanted. I’ve seen your aim.”

“But now I know I can do this,” she said, simply.

He shook his head and held out a hand. “Come out of there, before you catch a chill. And give me that. I’ll pluck it while you change into dry clothing.”

“I never catch a chill,” she said as she waded to shore.

He laughed then. “Oh, Katsa. I’m sure you don’t.” He took the goose from her hands. “Do you still have a fight in you? We can practice while your goose is cooking.”