Spider Wars: Book Three of the Black Bead Chronicles by J.D. Lakey Read Free Book Online

and looked
back at her nestmother. “The survival of the domes and your own
survival are not the same thing. Do me a favor and remember that,”
Sybille said softly.
    Cheobawn, too terrified to
dissect the meaning of that threat, simply turned and fled, the
weight of Sybille’s displeasure chasing at her heels.

Chapter Four
    The
muster’s chaos had turned into a well-ordered ranking by the time
she got back to the stable yard. The bennelk stood in pairs, forming
a double line that curled around the limits of the yard. Each animal
had a wrangler holding onto its lead, keeping them stationary and
calm. Cheobawn jogged up the line looking for Connor. Under all the
cold weather gear it was hard to tell Father from Mother. She settled
on looking for the smallest rider besides herself. Gann resolved her
dilemma by waving at her from the middle of the troop. His charge,
Cloud Eye, was still riderless. Connor sat atop his own mount next to
Cloud Eye. He had a surly look on his face; he was not happy about
something, either mount or placement in the line.
    Cheobawn grimaced. She had
problems of her own. She was not too pleased with getting Cloud Eye.
The young bennelk was a novice to this kind of formation and would
need a little schooling. Perhaps that was why she had been placed
well to the rear of the line- where any possible chaos caused by her
inexperience would not set the rest of the column off but far enough
from the last riders to not offer a convenient target to any
predator, however remote that possibility might be.
    Cheobawn scrambled to don
riding gloves, mittens, and a woolsey face mask and neck scarf. Gann
moved to her side to help her mount while she buckled her riding
helmet on. The wrangler shoved her fur hat on her head, tossed her up
into the saddle, and adjusted the stirrups around her boots, fumbling
at the buckles in his haste while she checked the quick release snaps
around her bladed stick under her right knee. She had mounted just in
time. Vinara rode down the line for one last inspection, checking
everyone’s status before leading them out the yard gates. Cheobawn
looked up as the head drover stopped next to her.
    “ I thought about not
letting this one ride with us,” Vinara said, studying Cloud Eye’s
form, “but we need the manpower and she needs the experience. I am
trusting that you can keep her in line today. As always, I am
grateful for your help.”
    Cheobawn flushed, not
exactly sure how to respond to the unaccustomed compliment with so
many eyes watching. Sybille surged by on Herd Mother, intent on
claiming her position at the head of the column. Vinara’s mount
spun about on her hind feet and leapt after her. By the time Cheobawn
opened her mouth to thank the Head Drover, she was gone.
    Connor sniggered softly as
he leaned across the gap between them. “You are such a dufus
sometimes. Would it have been so hard to say Yes, Mother, thank
you, Mother ?”
    Cheobawn ignored his jibe as
she patted Cloud Eye’s shoulder.
    Herd Mother says I must
do as you say, the bennelk said as she danced nervously sideways
on the tips of her claws. Cheobawn nudged her with a knee to remind
her where she needed to be.
    You will be alright. Kite
Wing knows where to go. Kite Wing was Connor’s mount. She was a
sister to Herd Mother and being neither excitable nor hard headed,
she was a perfect mount for an inexperienced rider. Vinara used her
to train all the new foals. The five-year-old Red Claw was next in
line in front of Cheobawn, being ridden by Soral, Sigrid's Second
Ear. Meshel sat next to her on another sleek three-year-old whose
name she had forgotten.
    Just keep your nose on
Red Claw’s tail while we are on the trail, Cheobawn told Cloud Eye.
    The column began to move out
the gate. As Soral kicked Red Claw into motion, she glanced over her
shoulder with an acid stare, leaned out of her saddle with a
practiced grace, and said something in Meshel’s ear. Cheobawn did
not hear most of what the