Shadow of the Horsemen (Kalie's Journey) Read Online Free Page B

clan-leaders called for a feast to celebrate their great victory. A few skinny goats were killed, and what kumis remained was opened and shared.
    This night, the men and women ate separately. Kalie was about to ask Cassia if this was because of the battle, or some other reason, when she heard her name called from the men’s side of the fires.
    “A woman? Telling the tale of a battle?” she heard some warrior demanding as she reached their gathering
    “You haven’t heard her,” Kahlar was saying. “Ah, Kalie! Come show these fools that in Kahlar’s clan, even the women are better storytellers than they!”
    Grateful that she had given some thought to that very subject, Kalie moved to the center of the gathering and surveyed her audience. Most were drunk, or working on getting that way, but were still in the early stages. Not ugly yet, at least. Then she noticed a low, animal-like moaning coming from just beyond the firelight punctuated by even more animal-like laughter, and revised her opinion. The only survivors of the outlaw band—four or five half starved women—were providing entertainment for the victorious warriors.
    Then Kalie turned away, willing herself not to think about it. These men were waiting for entertainment from her as well, and she ought to be grateful it was of another kind. If she was lucky, they might settle for stories.
    Wetting dry lips with a dry tongue, for no one offered her a drink, Kalie began, pitching her voice to carry over the festivities. “It was on a day in early spring, when the two mightiest of the clans of Aahk were on their way to the great summer gathering that they were set upon by savage men who knew no honor…”

Chapter 3
     
    Kalie watched the flowers fade and die as they walked. The grass was turning brown. And the sun’s warmth, so welcome just days ago, was beginning to feel oppressive. In her homeland, it would be the second full moon of spring. They would be celebrating the planting of grain and the harvesting of the first fruits.
    It had been five days since “The Battle of Spring Trail” as Kalie had named her story. The name had stuck—further proof of her growing status. She had been called to tell the story every night since the battle, and in all that time, had not been raped. Nor had there been any repercussions of her words to Riyik. She thought perhaps that Brenia was avoiding her, but that might just have been a result of the many women she knew in Zavan’s clan who were now filling her time.
    Kalie also spent time with the women of Zavan’s clan. From them she learned that Dara, who had been living with that clan when Kalie had last seen her, was no longer living at all.
    “She was a strange one,” said one of the women, making a sign against evil. “Never did learn how to talk properly.”
    “Never learned how to do anything,” said another. “But she had stopped fighting like a madwoman, and seemed like she was going to adjust. Then, on the night of Midwinter, she just walked into the snow and froze to death.”
    “She was trying to escape?” said Kalie.
    “Escape?” the woman looked baffled. “Why would she attempt such a thing? And in the dead of winter, no less!”
    “She took nothing with her,” said another woman, more helpfully. “No food; not even her blanket.”
    “Which direction was she walking?” Kalie asked, but she already knew.
    “West,” said the first woman.
    Kalie nodded. “Toward her home.”
      One of them shot Kalie an evil glare. “Those women from the west are unnatural beings! They should be put to death before they curse us all!”
    “Hush, Tilka,” said the oldest of them. “It was only one of them, and evil spirits can attack anyone.”
    “What happened?” Kalie whispered, almost forgetting to breathe.
    “Nothing!” snapped the one who told her about Dara, but the one named Tilka shook off her hand and spoke up.
    “It was the one called Traea. Just before we left our winter camp, she went mad