"Look out!" He whirled, pushing Emmy out of the way. She shrieked and fell in the pool.
The sound vanished; the dust blinked out of existence.
There were no horses. The courtyard was empty and still under the morning sun.
Several people had looked over at Jordan's cry, and were laughing again.
"What?"
"How could you!" A hot smack on his cheek turned him around again. Emmy's dress was soaked, and now clung tightly to her hips and legs.
"II didn't mean to"
"Oh, sure. What am I going to do now?" she wailed.
"ReallyI heard horses. I thought"
"Come on." She grabbed his arm ran for the nearby stables. Inside she crossly wrung out her skirt in a stall, cursing Jordan all the while.
He shook his head, terribly confused. "I really am sorry, Emmy. I didn't mean to do it. I really did hear horses. I swear."
"Your brain's addled, that's all."
"Well, maybe, I just..." He kicked the stall angrily. "Nothing's going right today."
"Did you hit your head when you landed?" The idea seemed to still her anger. She stepped out of the stall, still wet but not scowling at him any more.
"No, I don't think so, I just" A bright flash of light in his eyes startled him. He caught a confused glimpse of sunlit grass and white clouds, where straw and wooden slats should be.
"Jordan?" His elbow hurt. Somehow, he was on the floor.
"Hey..." She knelt beside him, looking concerned. "Are you okay? You fell over."
"I did? It was that flash of light. I saw" Now he wasn't sure what he'd seen.
Emmy gently felt his skull for bruises. "Nothing hurts here, does it?."
"I didn't hit myself, really." He brushed himself off and stood up.
"You looked really weird there for a second."
"I don't know. It's not anything." He felt scared suddenly, so to cover it, he said, "No, I was just joking. Come on, let's check on Willam. Then we'd better get back to work."
"Okay," she said uncertainly.
Willam and Ryman were still with the surgeon, and nobody knew what to do about the stone mother, so Jordan told the rest of the men to take an early lunch. He went to the kitchens and found a stool near Emmy. They wiled away some time near the warmness of the hearth.
Jordan had just decided to round up his men and
get back to work, when he suddenly felt a horse under him, and saw grasslands sweeping by. A thunderous sound, as of many mounted men, filled his ears. This time, he was lost for what seemed a long time.
His hand gripped the reins tightly, only it was not his hand, but the sunburned hand of a mature man.
In an eye-blink the vision was gone, and he stood again in the kitchen. He hadn't fallen, and no one was looking at him. Jordan's heart began to pound as if he'd run a kilometer.
He waved at Emmy urgently. She was talking to one of the bakers, and ignored him until he started to walk over. Then she quickly intercepted him and whispered, "What?" in that particular tone of voice she used lately when her interrupted her talking to young men.
"It happened again."
"What happened?"
"Like in the stables. And outside. I saw something." Her skeptical look told him to be careful what he said. "II do think I'm sick," he said.
Her look softened. "You look awful, actually. What's wrong?"
"I keep seeing things. And hearing things."
"Voices? Like uncle Wilson?"
"No. Horses. Like in the dream I had last night."
"Dream? What are you talking about?
"The dream I had last night. I'm still having it."
"Tell me."
"Horses, and grasslands. There was a battle, and the Winds came. All last night, it was just like I was there. And it keeps happening today, too. I'm still seeing it."
Emmy shook her head. "You are sick. Come on, we'll go see the surgeon."
"No, I don't want to."
"Don't be a baby."
"Okay, okay. But I can go on my own. You don't have to come with me."
"All right," she said reluctantly. He felt her concerned gaze on him as he left.
The surgeon was busy with Willam's broken leg. Jordan stood around for a few minutes outside his door, but the sound of screaming coming from inside made him feel worse and worse, until finally he had to leave. He sat in the courtyard, unsure whether to go back to work or go home. Something was wrong, and he had no idea what to do about it.
He couldn't stay idle, though. If he went home, his father would treat him with contempt at dinner; Jordan always felt terribly guilty when he was sick, as if he was doing something bad.
He thought of the walk home, and that made him think of the forest. There was someone there who could help himand maybe solve the problem of the stone mother too. It was a long walk, and he didn't like to be in the forest alone, but just now he didn't know what else to do. He stood up and left the manor, taking the path that led to the church, and the house of the priests.
The path opened onto the church lands abruptly: Jordan came around a sharp bend where towering silver maple and oak trees closed in overhead, and there was the clearing, broad and level, skirted at its edges with low stone buildings where the ministers lived. In front of the church itself, a broad flagstone courtyard, unwalled, was kept bare and clean.