“Be gentle with me, Hyperion,” she whispered, glad she had her breeches beneath her tunica. A moment later, she was putting her foot in Barta’s hand and was heaved up into the saddle, her thighs snug between the four saddle horns.
Hyperion was taller than Phoenix, and Adara realized she missed the view from a rider’s perspective. She gripped the reins and nudged with her knees. Hyperion walked out onto the field, smooth and calm as could be. Adara nudged with her inner left thigh and the gelding danced into a lulling canter.
Adara yelped with surprise and joy, but was drowned out by the chorus of Sarmatian warriors and Lucius cheering her on as she and Hyperion made a few circuits of the field.
“Metella! Metella!” some of the men shouted.
“Wait for us, Mama!”
Phoebus and Calliope’s po
