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

age," Brin said, "I had my eye on a nice chestnut. I followed
him around the pasture for weeks, but he never looked at me. Then
one day Task walked up and chose me, and I have never regretted it.
The chestnut is now Daron, Steff's mount, and they're well suited.
The horses know, Shan. Don't try to fight their choice."
    Shan grunted
and kicked the woodpile. Brin finished unloading Task, and the
horse turned and galloped down to the pasture to join the bachelor
herd. Brin gazed after him fondly.
    "Doesn't he
want to be brushed?" Shan enquired.
    "He'll come
back when he does. First he wants to roll and get really
dirty."
    Brin clasped
Shan's shoulder as they walked into the village. Women tended
bubbling pots or young children, men honed their weapons, cured
skins or tended their horses. Friends called greetings as they
passed their tents, and a woman milked her mare while the foal
waited its turn at the udder. The women had no tattoos other than
the Stone mark, and only Jorn lacked that. The Stone mark was given
when a boy or girl was chosen, tattooed in black on their brows.
The tattoos on men's cheeks were added when they chose their
profession. Warriors had red tattoos, hunters had blue and farmers
green. For the most part, colts chose boys and fillies chose girls,
with one exception, the warrior woman Mita. A colt had chosen her,
and from there her path was set. Instead of becoming a wife and
mother, she had become a fine warrior.
    Brin guided
Shan to the headman's tent, where his father, Jesher, looked up in
surprise. In terse words, Brin explained Shan's crime, then left
Jesher to chastise his son.
    Jesher
regarded Shan with deep disappointment, making the boy squirm. When
he spoke, his tone was grave and hard. "How dare you?" He shook his
head. "A son of mine, throwing stones at horses."
    "I didn't
Papa!"
    "Only because
Brin stopped you. What's the penalty for harming a horse?"
    "To be cast
out," Shan muttered.
    "That's right.
Think about that before you ever lift a weapon to a horse again,
son."
    Shan hung his
head, and his mother Shella entered the tent. He cringed as Jesher
broadcast his crime, and his mother cast him a glare with her
usually soft brown eyes.
    "Stupid boy. I
should have Mishal punish you properly."
    Shan flinched,
remembering the times when Mishal had been set to guard him when he
was a toddler and he had defied the mare's authority. A few good
nips that had left bruises for days had taught him the error of his
ways, and the big, fifteen-year-old palomino mare still terrified
him. Shella cuffed him and went back to stirring her pot, to his
relief.
    The sound of
galloping hooves cut his humiliation short. Jesher went out to see
what the commotion was, and Shan followed. One of the sentries who
had been posted far out in the plains to warn of danger leapt from
his sweating steed to confront the headman.
    "The horse
thieves from the west are moving this way, and they claim to have a
wizard who uses fire," he stated.
    "Who told you
this?" Jesher demanded.
    "Travellers,
two traders going east. They lost two horses already, and they say
the thieves are no more than a day behind."
    Jesher
scowled. "That gives us no time to move the herd. If the Arrad are
heading this way, we must prepare to fight."
    The ring of
curious people who had gathered to hear the news muttered amongst
themselves as they drifted off. The sentry went to tend his tired
horse, as a replacement left the village to take up his post.
Jesher turned to re-enter his tent, Shan following.
    The headman
regarded his son with a frown. "Now is the time you need a horse,
Shan. Without one, you can't be a warrior."
    "I don't want
that ugly black thing!" Shan cried.
    Jesher turned
away.
    "His feet are
too big! His legs are like tree trunks -"
    Jesher swung
back. "Then I hope yours are swift indeed, for they'll have to
carry you well, without a horse. Any who can't keep up with the
herd are left behind, boy!"
    Shan shrank
from his father's wrath,