The Rebellion by Isobelle Carmody Read Free Book Online Page A

forward, but there was an offended stiffness in his bearing. I wished I had the empathy to show him what I felt. So often words said only half of what you wanted to say, even words sent directly from mind to mind. But empathy was the one power I lacked utterly.
    As we drew level with the mare, I made myself calm down. I did not want to show an interest that would be remembered later. From the corner of my eye, I noted the exhausted sag of her head and the scars on her knees and fetlocks from previous falls. Taking a deep breath to quiet my outrage, I reached out a probe to examine the bindings on her load. When I detected a weakness, I began to work at it with my mind, backward and forward.
    This was exhausting, because the probe had to be densely focused to produce even the slightest physical force, butanger gave me additional determination, and in a short time, the tie snapped with an audible twang.
    The lout on top of the load gave a bellow as he and the wood crashed to the ground.
    A second after, a streak of lightning split the sky. People looked up fearfully, ever mindful that this might be a firestorm. But it began to rain, and it was not the burning rain of a firestorm.
    The lout got to his feet, red-faced with embarrassment, and flayed the mare viciously. She was so exhausted that she barely flinched under the onslaught.
    “Get out of my way,” I said insolently, pushing Gahltha forward to distract him. I blinked to clear the rain from my lashes.
    “Halfbreed trash!” he yelled. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
    “Then do something of your own will,” I rejoined promptly. “Show us you can move your fat bum as fast as you flap your lips.”
    He stepped forward, lifting his stick to strike me, but Gahltha snorted and reared, pawing the air. The youth cried out in fright and cowered back.
    Thunder cracked again and lightning slashed above, shedding an eerie light on the motley crowd as the rain gathered force. The storm created a mental static that interfered with my Talent. I concentrated hard and prayed it would not get any worse.
    “What’s going on back here?” demanded the gate soldierguard, striding back along the line.
    “The stupid horse lost its load,” the lout blustered. “Then that gypsy tried to set his horse on me. Savage brute of a thing.”
    “T’was the lightning affrighted him,” I said, lowering my voice.
    “He overloaded the mare and the ropes broke,” a woman said, spurred by a coercive prompt. I did not want the soldierguard to focus his attention too specifically on me.
    “Look at the poor thing,” another woman shouted after a mental prod. Then she blinked and looked startled with herself.
    “It’s a wonder it didn’t keel over in the very path,” someone else growled of his own accord.
    “And what if it did?” the lout demanded truculently. “It’s my property. I’ll kill it right now if I feel like it.” I felt Jaygar’s anger like the sun on my back.
    “Do that and you’ll be fined,” the soldierguard snapped.
    “Fined?” he squawked. “I’ve a right to do what I want to my own horse.”
    “I don’t give a damn what you do to the beast, just so long as its corpse don’t clutter up the way. Now get this mess out of the road. Load it to one side and be quick about it.”
    Muttering and cursing, the lout dragged on the mare’s bridle to shift her onto the grass verge and began to move the wood. She stared out unseeingly, her eyes like dusty pebbles.
    “Greetings, littlesistermind,” I sent.
    She blinked and turned her dull gaze to me.
    “This funaga is cruel to you,” I continued.
    “All your kind are so. Your blood is curdled with cruelty.” Her mental voice was infused with a dreamy kind of hopelessness. She didn’t seem surprised to have a human talking to her. Perhaps she thought she was hallucinating.
    “Not all funaga are this way,” I sent, but the mare was silent with disbelief or lethargy. I sighed, thinking this was not the moment to