Page 264 of A King's Oath

“We’ll see,” he swung her short mallet in an arc in his right hand. “Only your wrist, here,” he grabbed her hand and placed it atop his own wrist. Then swung again.

“Feel that?”

She nodded.

“Now, you are not allowed to use your mallet with your left hand. But the ball can come on any side. So,” he leaned slightly forward, the horse going fast but not as fast as when they had started. Samarth moved both their right arms over the horse’s neck in a neat arc and reached their left side — “This is how you swing. Grip your thighs around the horse. Yes, that’s it. Not too tight. Loosen, yes, perfect. Hold your lower body steady and let your upper body become fluid…”

She was a good student. She listened, grasped and executed with skill. For a child this young, she had patience for the game. It was so surreal that a sport this fast required immense patience.

“Now swing,” he swung his arm and hers along with him. There was no ball there, and the mallet in his hand was half his usual size. But if there had been both, he was sure the ball would have chucked a few hundred metres.

“Oooooh!” Her awed whisper carried into his chest. He could imagine that round O of her mouth as he got the horse to slow down gradually. Their circumambulation ended and Ava came in sight. She was deep in conversation with Sharan.

“Again, Papa!” Brahmi demanded.

“We’ll ask Mama…”

“She is busy.”

Samarth squinted and kicked up the horse, streaming past, hoping Ava didn’t notice. He checked over his shoulder, she hadn’t, half-turned towards Sharan.

“Yay!!!”

“What we did is wrong,” he informed his daughter. “If Mama said once, then it is once.”

“We’ll say sorry then.”

Samarth wanted to laugh but he held his voice — “Saying sorry doesn’t change a wrong already done. So we must always try to avoid something wrong.”

“But nobody gets hurt in this.”

“I know. This is a small wrong. But if we don’t learn now, our minds keep making it ok to commit bigger wrongs.”

“Let’s do one more wrong and then we’ll stop,” his daughter demanded as they neared Ava. Samarth chuckled, squeezing her to his chest with one hand — “Today’s quota is over.”

“But I want to ride with you!”

“We’ll do it again tomorrow.”

“I don’t have lessons tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll come just to ride. You and I.”

“And to practise mallet swings.”

“That too,” he pressed her mallet into her hand and saw in slow motion her right hand swing over the horse’s head and flick a decent attempt at a neck shot. He was here to hold her lowerbody steady but the upper swing was good. His chest swelled with pride.

“Well done, baby.”

He trotted the horse to a halt near Ava and her eyes whirled to them. Sharan looked like he was having a serious conversation, which was a rarity. Samarth raised an eyebrow at him. He smiled, lounging back on the fencing.

“Here — one star jockey delivered,” Samarth grabbed Brahmi by the torso and swung her down. “Safe and sound.”

Ava was there to catch her and her mallet. As she ran away, Ava closed in to his thigh, her breath hot on his knee — “My offer is still open, Sam,” she smirked.

“This is the limit now,” he gasped, pushing his dark glasses to the top of his head. Their eyes met under the sun — “In front of my daughter?”

“Look,” she warned, gripping his knee. “You look like a pain to deal with on a daily basis. Be grateful I am offering.”

---