A Blackbird In Silver (Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

beauty and gentleness of character; too warmly, the listeners might think. So it was that these gentle people were regarded with a mixture of jealousy, awe, fear and scorn by the rest of the world. Of these opinions the Forluinish knew next to nothing.
    So Estarinel, as he recounted the dreadful day of the Serpent, was innocent of what preconceived ideas Medrian and Ashurek might have of him. He was thinking only of the long green curve of the hill on which he had sat, watching the distant river that led to the sea, on the morning of that day.
    Before him, miles of green fell away; fields, woods, hills and vales, until at last there was a thin streak of silver that was the river. Behind him, the hill sloped gently into a wildflower meadow where horses grazed. The meadow was fringed by trees in the fresh, green raiment of summer. A few yards away grazed his own horse, Shaell, a heavy, powerful stallion, whose coat looked grey in some lights and rich brown in others; but in the early sunlight that flooded everything, he shone cobweb silver.
    A young man with long, brown hair, also dressed in a white linen shirt and blue breeches, was walking up the hill to where Estarinel sat.
    ‘Morning, E’rinel. We thought we’d have breakfast and then ride home.’ The previous day, they and two companions had brought a herd of twenty young horses to this farm, half a day’s ride west of their own lands. ‘What are you looking at?’
    ‘The river. Don’t you know there’s a ship due from An’raaga any day?’
    ‘Yes, I do,’ said Falin, ‘and if you can see it from here you must have the eyes of an eagle!’
    ‘Just a vivid imagination. I had half a mind to ride down and wait for it. We asked them to bring us a Gorethrian war-horse, if they could.’
    ‘That will be popular,’ said Falin. He lay down on his stomach, propping his head in his hands, and commented on the beauty of the view.
    Perhaps once a year a Forluinish crew would make the long voyage to An’raaga, a small country semi-independent of Gorethria, and exchange some of their indigenous heavy-horses for other breeds. Many disapproved of this practice, saying that even such a tenuous connection with Gorethria was dangerous. Others were afraid that their great, gentle silver-brown destriers would be used in battle in the Empire. But the trading went on. Aside from the farming of sheep and crops necessary for survival, horse-breeding was their passion.
    ‘We could eat breakfast up here,’ Falin suggested. ‘Do you think they really will bring a Gorethrian horse? It’ll be the first one.’
    ‘Yes, I was wondering if there might be some prejudice against them, as if they were not innocent of the actions of their masters.’ Estarinel grinned. ‘Mother would like a pair, she’s got ideas of breeding them.’ He rolled up his sleeves as the sun grew warmer. ‘I dreamed we had one last night, but it was blue with a golden mane and tail!’ They both laughed. Estarinel closed his eyes, trying to remember the dream. ‘There was a woman…’
    ‘Dreaming about them! That sounds serious! What was she like?’
    ‘Not Forluinish… what race would have icy pale faces and jet black hair?’
    ‘No idea. You could look it up in a book, along with where blue horses come from.’ Falin suddenly stopped teasing and said, ‘I don’t trust your dreams – remember you dreamed that your mother bred a black destrier foal, and that spring, one was born?'
    ‘To be honest, the dream last night was more a nightmare and I wish I hadn’t thought of it. Too much of our good host Taer’nel’s wine.’
    Falin grinned, shaking his head. He plucked aimlessly at a few blades of grass and after a minute said quietly ‘When’s your sister going to agree to marry me?’
    Estarinel looked round at him. ‘Which one?’ he said.
    ‘Oh, very funny. The one who wants to gallivant off to Ohn to learn book-binding. Arlena, remember her?’
    ‘I really think you’d better ask her, not