Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law Read Online Free Page A

in embarrassment. "I want the bay colt to choose me, and
that one keeps getting in the way!"
    Brin's eyes
swept the herd. "Bashar's foal? A fine animal. But what you want is
irrelevant. The horses do the choosing, not us. Did you ever think
that the black colt might choose you?"
    Shan scowled.
"No! I don't want him!"
    Brin cursed
and turned as his horse, Task, nudged him in the back. The wood
gatherers were far down the road to the village, and Task grew
impatient to be rid of the load he carried for Brin. It was no more
than he wished, but a heavy burden just the same. Brin stroked the
horse's nose and whispered soft words that only his steed could
understand. He turned back to Shan with a frown.
    "Task wants to
go. You, follow me, I have words to say still."
    Shan trudged
beside the warrior as he gathered up his wood and walked on towards
the village, Task following.
    "Listen to me,
boy," Brin said. "If the black colt chooses you, be grateful for
it. He may not be a beauty, but he's big and strong."
    "Slow and
ugly!" Shan cried, "I'll be the laughing stock!"
    "Would you
rather be unchosen? Horseless, like Jorn? If you think you're too
good for the black colt, think again."
    Shan thought
about Jorn. At his celebration, the herd stallion had snorted and
laid back his ears, but had not cast him out. Jorn had never been
chosen, and remained horseless, relegated to being a farmer and
unmarried because of his poverty. By contrast, Shan's father, the
current headman, had been chosen twice by the same horse, the only
time that had ever happened. At sixteen, Jesher had been chosen by
a fine grey colt called Nort. On the journey to the winter grounds,
Nort had slipped in a river and broken his leg. Jesher had mourned
and nursed him for a day and a night, then slit his throat to end
his suffering. Three years later, a fine grey two-year-old colt had
chosen Jesher, and given his name as Nort.
    Since horses
did not live as long as men, a person would be chosen three or four
times in his or her lifetime, but the first steed was always the
most important. Shan's father was now thirty-five, and Nort
seventeen, almost too old to retain his status as herd stallion.
Soon a younger horse from the bachelor herd would challenge, and
when Nort lost his standing as herd stallion, Jesher would also
cease to be headman. Already many horses had fought Nort and lost,
and the ageing herd stallion had the scars to prove it. He would
leave behind a strong legacy, however, for he had sired hundreds of
foals in his eight-year stint as herd stallion. Most of his
challengers were his sons, since the majority of those sired by the
previous herd stallion, which was also Nort's sire, were past their
prime.
    While horses
from the bachelor herd would make forays into the mares during the
breeding season, the mares would have none of them, so every foal
born was Nort's get. For three months in spring, Nort had a full
time job covering mares and chasing off marauding horses, at the
end of which he was thin and exhausted. The black colt was Nort's
get, but bore no resemblance to his sire.
    Shan tuned his
ears to Brin's advice again.
    "If the black
colt wants you, you have no choice, boy. You're his,
understand?"
    Shan cast a
longing glance back at the herd, where the bay colt frisked with a
filly, and the ugly black colt grazed stolidly, swatting flies.
    "I don't want
him," the boy said stubbornly.
    "Then you'll
be horseless. You'll ride behind your mother on Mishal to the
winter grounds until you're too big, then you'll walk. You'll never
be a hunter or a warrior. You'll be a farmer, like Jorn, and like
him, poor and wifeless. Is that what you want?"
    "No, I want
the bay colt."
    They reached
the woodpile and Brin shed his load, turning to untie the wood from
Task's back. Task was large and well built, a handsome blue roan
with four white socks. His coat gleamed with the brushing that Brin
lavished upon him, and his mane and tail flew like silk.
    "When I was
your