her instruments 02 - rose point Read Online Free Page B

were not so burdened by their genetic faults, and so their minds shone clearer?
    “There!” Saul exclaimed with an exultant laugh. He rose in the saddle and whistled, his mount side-stepping under him.
    Hirianthial drew alongside him, looking out over a small field, and there at its edge was a streak of white, running for the sheer joy of it, like the wind made manifest, poured into flesh.
    “Kumiss!” Saul said. “Here he comes... in his own sweet time, of course. Just to make sure we know he’s coming because he wants to, not at our beck.”
    And he was, slowing as he approached, calling to the mares, who whuffed their lack of interest.
    “Oh, alet,” Hirianthial whispered. “A king among stallions, surely.”
    “We think so,” Saul said, grinning.
    “Is he gentled?”
    The Hinich made a so-so gesture. “He came out of a vat like the rest of them, so he’s used to being handled. But he’s got a personality of his own. He doesn’t tolerate much.”
    Hirianthial slid off his mare, handing the reins absently to Saul, and cautiously approached the jewel in the grass. Such a proud, clean head, with small ears. And the eyes: dark, pellucid and very definitely regarding him. His aura trailed off him like an extension of his bright mane: wild and smelling of high fields and sunlight.
    The Eldritch was never sure at what point he began touching that sun-warmed skin, but he found his brow resting against the muscled neck and felt the nudge of a curious muzzle.
    “Well, look at that,” Saul said, hushed. “He likes you.”
    “And I am honored,” Hirianthial murmured, meaning it. And addressed himself to that aura, asking permission and receiving it he knew not how, but he pulled himself on the stallion’s back and whispered: Run!
    Could a horse laugh? Kumiss bolted and took him along, took him on purpose. Hirianthial bent close to his neck, white mane wrapped in white hands, and the wind stung water from his eyes and whipped his hair back from his temples. And for an endless breath, there was nothing for him but the feel of the barrel rising and falling between his legs, the drum of hoofbeats impossibly swift, and the banner of the aura that streamed into his and carried all his careworn memories away.
    The stallion slowed to a trot and then a walk, strolling back to Saul with head high. He stopped to allow Hirianthial to dismount and nuzzled the Eldritch, lipping the edge of his tunic.
    “I... have never seen anything, anything like that,” Saul breathed.
    “He is a peerless individual,” Hirianthial agreed, setting his hand on the stallion’s withers and then letting it fall away. “Ah, Saul. What a gift—”
    But the Hinichi wasn’t looking at him. Was in fact looking past him, and was still doing so when an arrow bit his thigh and his mare shied. The horse Hirianthial had been riding bolted down the trail, and Saul fought to keep his from following. Another arrow smacked the ground in front of his mare’s hooves and she reared; this time not all his frantic commands kept her from racing after her herdmate.
    Hirianthial reached for a sword and discovered he didn’t have one anymore, felt a moment’s intense disorientation. A world where people were attacked with arrows was one where he had a sword and a duty to use it. He flung himself around as a group of riders pounded toward them. Eight... ten... twelve of them, armed. How could a colony this young have criminals already? He could have handled five or six of them on his own, but not double that number. If Saul could bring help....
    He asked forgiveness for the insult and leaped onto Kumiss. The stallion spun and then fled... in the opposite direction.
    Follow me, he commanded the bandits, his outrage and worry blowing into the words, spreading them open like an explosion. He had no idea how badly wounded Saul had been, nor whether he had the training or weaponry to take on twelve opponents. He had to distract them until the Hinichi was out of