To Ride the Gods’ Own Stallion Read Online Free PDF Page B

heard the lion coming.
    He slipped the bridle over Ti’s head, though Ti insisted on continuing to eat, and moved on to the bay gelding. Soulai wondered if he’d be able to stay seated on the horse. He’d sat on a donkey’s back more than a few times, but never a horse and never at a gallop. Quickly he offered up a prayer that the bay be steady. And speedy.
    â€œHere!”
    Soulai jumped and the girth fell away.
    â€œWhat in the name of Nergal are you doing? ” It was Mousidnou this time, stomping along with his lantern. He peered into the mostly empty trough and squinted his small eyes at Soulai. “These horses haven’t even been fed.”
    Soulai caught the girth and pulled it tight around the bay’s belly, his back hunched, prepared for the blow. “Habasle ordered these two made ready,” he said. He quickly adjusted the breast-collar and crupper. “Habasle said the lion is waiting.”
    â€œOh.” Mousidnou seemed to accept this event as nothing out of the ordinary. “Didn’t see the runty little master of the hunt come through. His dogs with him?”
    Soulai managed a nod as he kneed the gelding in the belly one more time and pulled the girth tighter. He was not going to slip from this horse’s back.
    The stable master shook his head. ”Can’t tell if it’s bravery or folly drives that boy.” He looked at Soulai, the sharpness suddenly colored by concern. “Listen to me. You watch yourself today.”
    Soulai had untied the bay and was fitting the bit between his teeth. He paused and looked up.
    â€œI’ll deny every word if you survive to repeat it,” Mousidnou continued, “but I’m telling you now that Habasle chews through young stable hands the way his dogs chew through hares. After the last incident I thought he’d given up the horses, but…” He shrugged, then cast an appreciative eye over Ti. “Shame if he injures this one, though. Sure, he shows promise, but it’s too soon for lions.”
    The throaty barking of the mastiffs traveled down the stable aisle and Mousidnou shot an urgent look at Soulai. “I’ll see that your horses are fed. You be off,” he said. “Here’s a leg up.” Setting down his lantern, he boosted Soulai onto the gelding’s back. Then Mousidnou backed Ti into the aisle. He handed the reins to Soulai and gruffly patted the boy’s leg. “Keep your wits about you now,” he warned.

5
    A Hunt
    Ignorant of the morning’s danger, Ti pranced in the narrow aisle. He playfully dove at the bay’s neck, once, twice, and was threatening again when Soulai snapped the reins, signaling the stallion to behave. Soulai fully intended to keep his wits about him and he’d do his best to make certain Ti did as well. Knuckles tight around the gelding’s reins, legs squeezing his barrel, Soulai pulled Ti’s head close to his thigh, and they began moving toward the pink square of light at the end of the stable.
    In the courtyard, Soulai found Habasle ringed by a dozen tall, bearded archers. The mastiffs were now leashed, though the slaves restraining them had to use both hands and the weight of their bodies to hold them back. Ti whinnied loudly and the gelding echoed him.
    Something pale and billowy dangled from Habasle’s fist as he strode across the tiles. He took Ti’s reins from Soulai, then lowered the stallion’s head and fastened a decoration to the top of the bridle. When Ti lifted his head, a white plume stood erect, and silky black fringe cascaded over his brow, framing his gold and blue eyes. He looked every shekel a regal horse of the hunt and Soulai shivered with a mixture of pride and dread. Next, Habasle replaced the reins with intricately braided ones specially weighted with pom-poms to ensure that they dropped evenly on either side of Ti’s neck. Then he stepped back, nodded approvingly, and, in one