No True Way by Mercedes Lackey Read Free Book Online Page B

had a good, dry tack room in the middle of it. The horses were all so hot and fractious Ella had to work hard to get them properly cooled down and watered and fed. One was a swaybacked nag with a sore hoof, one was far too fine to go with the nag, and the other had clearly worn aharness more often than a saddle from the places its coat was rubbed shiny. The combination seemed as odd as the command about the tack. This put her on edge a little, but before Ella had time to even go in and get a good look at the people who owned the mixed batch of horses, her Herald came in.
    â€œOnly he didn’t look like one.
    â€œHis leather workman’s clothes were stained brown and black and had clearly never been Whites. His hair was mussed, and he looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. His Companion was just at thoroughly disguised. His beautiful white coat had been dyed black and brown, and his mane and tail had both been turned black as night. Blinders covered his blue eyes, and his bridle had a cruel bit.
    â€œElla wasn’t fooled for a moment. The bit hung too loose in the animal’s mouth to cause pain or give the rider much control, and no paint could hide the fine bones and honed musculature of a Companion from
her
. He was the Herald she’d been waiting for, and he looked tired and wary and worried.
    â€œAt first he just handed her the reins to his ‘horse,’ but then he stopped a moment, as if someone were speaking to him. He frowned thoughtfully at Ella and then said, ‘Lock him in a regular stall and don’t treat him any different,’ and pressed a coin into her palm.”
    â€œâ€˜Lock him?’ she asked, aghast.”
    Helen gasped. Everyone knew you didn’t lock up Companions.
    â€œâ€˜Yes.’ He was very firm with her, and he was a Herald, so she did what he said and treated the Companion like a horse. He acted like one, too, and didn’t allow Ella to groom him.”
    Helen stretched her feet out. “Did grandmother hear the Companion talk to his Herald in his mind?”
    â€œNo. She knew when they were coming, but not because they told her. In most ways, your grandmother was a very ordinary innkeeper’s daughter.” He shifted a bit and looked fondly at his wife. “Ready to settle down and listen to the rest?” He seemed slightly happier than he had for days, as if it were a relief to tell this story.
    â€œYes, Grandpapa.” She tucked her feet under her and rearranged her pillows.
    â€œYour grandmother put the Companion in a stall near the best of the three other horses and far away from the tinker’s jackass. She fed him and watered him, feeling edgy all the while, as if the world were simply not right. The painted Companion and the brown-clothed Herald and the three mismatched horses all added up to something bad.
    â€œAs Ella was stacking the grain buckets in their corner, hail pounded on the roof and set two of the horses to stamping their feet. The Companion looked up over his box-stall door, head high, scenting the air. Ella stayed with the animals until the hail passed and they calmed, and then she dashed into the common room to grab a bowl of squash and venison stew.
    â€œWhen she got there, she stood in the kitchen doorway with her bowl. The Herald in disguise sat in the corner of the common room eating quietly, looking as unheraldlike as possible.
    â€œThe three men with the three strange horses were eating together. She’d seen the tall, thin one with the cruel eyes when he left the horses off for her to tend. Now she got her first good look at the other two. One was as big around as two men, but girthed in muscle rather thanfat. He had a half-moon shaped scar on his right cheek, and he looked as hard and dangerous as the first one. The third man was less noticeable, the kind of man that can blend in with any crowd and look like the least interesting person there. At least that was what he was like