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Aurelia hit the red dirt shoulder first, hard into the little rocks in the fenced ring.
She scrambled up to her feet , scraping off the dirt, as she whipped back to the Giant Pronghorn. Her throat boiled and burned, and erupted, “Just- fuck!”
“Filia, stop yanking on his head. That's why he’s bucking you off,” Aequalis- her frumentarii mentor- commented from his spot on the wooden fence, swinging his crossed legs under his short tunic.
Aurelia switched to Latin, “You don’t have to use English with me. And,” she gestured to the beast, snuffling the dirt for grass shoots, “I have to yank on his face, or he’ll put me over the fence!”
Aequalis produced a slip of jerky from the folds of his sash, and pointed with it, continuing in English, “First off, you need to practice your English more than you need to impress me with your Latin. Second, the pronghorn masters say a bit and saddle are beginners tools- and that one can still make two hundred miles in a day without them. Do you claim to know more?”
Aurelia looked down to her boots; brand new, custom Brahmin hide. Worth more than what her mater made in two years. “No. Forgive me.”
“Forgiven,” Aequalis replied, sliding gracefully down the fence. “Why else do mentors and masters exist?”
He closed the gap between them, replacing the jerky in his sash, as Aurelia felt herself shrivel inside her oversized, darned, men’s shirt. Aequalis continued, “This is a high honor, a gift straight from Mars. If you impress Lord Caesar; not with your native Latin, but with your obedience, to Caesar and to me, other girls may earn the right to serve Caesar like men.”
His hand fell heavy on her stinging shoulder, and Aurelia said, “I understand.”
“Good.” Aequalis pushed down into her shoulder, as she surpressed her wince.
He turned, clicking for the pronghorn. It tapped to him, nuzzling into his hand as he rubbed between it’s horns. Aequalis jerked his head to the saddle, and Aurelia trotted over. She gripped the horn and pommel, hiking her jeans up, as her mentor interrupted, “Sit heavy on him- all the way back. If you get up on his neck like a marathoner, he’ll try to run for you.”
Aurelia nodded, finding the stirrup, as he handed her the reins.