Necessary Evil Read Online Free PDF Page A

pointed at her and began chanting loudly in Tilok.
    The mare pawed and snorted. She backed away at first. But after a minute, she turned sideways, flicked an ear, then released a breathy squeal of pain. Another contraction came hard. The moment the mare flicked the ear down, Kier's chanting grew softer, and he turned sideways to her as if singing to the horizon—as if he were ignoring her.
    As the two horses with Kier calmed down, the mare neighed, rolled her eyes, and stepped closer. Now, she was perhaps twenty feet away. Seconds ticked by. Wearily, she pawed the ground, wobbling as if she might go down. Whinnying sounds followed breathy squeals in time with her contractions.
    Kier's chanting grew louder again, and he once again turned squarely and pointed at her, fixing his gaze on her. The mare threw her head and backed up. Still Kier pressed her, even stepping forward, his arm locked, finger aimed. Again she moved away, breathing hard, frightened, pitiful. Finally, her ear cocked and she turned her flank to Kier. He also turned sideways, crooning softly, seeming once again to ignore her altogether.
    To Jessie it seemed almost as if Kier were in a trance, unconcerned, unaware of the emergency to his side. Then she noticed his feet; like the minute hand on a clock, they moved in almost undetectable increments. The two horses at his sides just naturally drifted with him. They were almost to the mare when she closed the gap by taking two steps toward them. Kier slipped the lariat off the saddle horn.
    "God, this should be on TV," Jessie whispered. "What are the words?"
    Claudie shook her head. "Some weird Tilok chant." She shook her head. "As long as it works."
    Now Kier moved to the mare, stroking between her eyes. His chant became softer yet as, slowly, he moved to the side of her neck and slipped the lasso over her head. With the rope around her, the mare seemed to calm completely, as if she knew it was futile even to think of running. Gently, Kier tugged her down into the snow so that she lay on her side. In an instant, he was on his knees, stroking her neck and motioning the women forward. Claudie came with the medical bag, while Jessie hung back, knowing instinctively that it would not be good to crowd the injured mare.
    With each contraction, Dawn let out an almost human groan. Now a third of the way out of the womb, the glistening wet colt thrashed its forelegs to aid in its own birth. It appeared a spindly, delicate thing as it came through the stretched membranes.
    Using large metal hemostats, which looked to Jessie like needle-nose pliers, Kier set about probing the deep ugly wounds on the mare's neck. He pinched off the larger blood vessels, all the while chanting to the horse. Next, he did the same with the fissurelike wound in her belly. Finally, he moved to the colt and helped it slip from the birth canal.
    Jessie watched his face while he worked, the calm concentration as his hands constantly moved, touching the mare, stroking her as she released her foal.
    At last Kier looked to the women and nodded. Claudie breathed a sigh.
    "I need to get back to the kids," she said. Then Jessie felt Claudie's hand on her shoulder.
     
     
    "You should be more careful about letting that stallion get to the mare in the springtime. This is the wrong season for delivering a foal."
    For the trip back to the barn, Kier had the foal on a small pile of straw in the bed of the pickup. The mare, no longer bleeding, would follow her foal at her own pace. The other two horses, now in halters, with their saddles and tack in the truck, would instinctively return to the comfort of their stalls and paddock.
    "That stallion's like a lot of men," said Claudie. "Just one thing on his mind."
    "I don't know any men like that," Kier said.
    He sat next to Jessie, relaxing his legs, aware that her thigh was touching his. He sensed that she was nervous about the contact. Claudie was completely spread out on the passenger side, perhaps oblivious to