The Rebellion by Isobelle Carmody Read Free Book Online Page B

convert her. “If you hate this funaga, why not run free?”
    “Funaga are everywhere. The wind spawns them. If notthis one, another would own me,” she sent without bitterness. “When I take the longsleep, I will run free.”
    Beastspeaking was often difficult to understand, because sometimes animals used words differently than we did. Equines called
sleep
the “shortsleep” and
death
the “longsleep,” believing the two states to be related.
    I shook the wetness from my face and licked my lips. The rain tasted sweet and cold.
    “If there were a barud for freerunning in thiswaking, would you dare to run? Could you escape?”
    “There is no such place,” the mare sent flatly.
    “Littlesistermind, I tell you such a place does exist, and if you go there, you may run free and nevermore wear the coldmetal in your lips.”
    “Abarud with no funaga? That is as likely as skyfire without its roar.” The flash of cynicism told me not all of the spirit had been beaten out of her.
    “There are funaga,” I admitted. “But these have the power to speak with beastminds, as I do. And none of them thinks of owning or breaking or hurting. They think of equines as brother/sisterminds.”
    She showed her disbelief again. I asked Gahltha and Jaygar to speak to her mind and convince her. Only when the black horse came close and showed her the false bit did she believe, and then she listened carefully as he described a route that would bring her to Obernewtyn.
    The lout glared at me. “Get that black demon away from my horse, halfbreed.”
    I shrugged and drew Gahltha away at once, resigned to the knowledge that he would remember me when the mare disappeared. I sent to her, warning her to be careful she was not followed when she escaped from her human masters.“Run safe, littlesistermind, and perhaps we will meet again in thiswaking.”
    “I am called Faraf,” the mare sent. “And I swear this will be so: nevermore shall I curse the funaga as one, for I know now that some burn with the heartfire.”
    My eyes pricked with sudden startled tears, for the mare had paid me a great compliment. Beastlegend told of a heart that burns eternally with the souls of all beasts who die or are yet to be born. This shared heart symbolizes the harmony between beasts, no matter what their physical form or how they prey on one another.
    Beasts excluded humans from this cycle of harmony, believing they have no true soul. This offered an explanation for humankind’s terror of death and their desire to dominate.
    In implying that I shared the heartfire of beasts, the little mare was naming me her equal and the bearer of a true soul.
    I felt my spirits lift, for the rescue of the gypsy and the exchange with the mare reminded me that no matter what Atthis or Maryon or Gahltha thought, I was the mistress of my own life.
    We had drawn almost level with the gate now. In front of us, the soldierguards were checking the soggy papers of a jack.
    “Ye’ll be lucky to find buyers for that lot,” one of the soldierguards told the green-clad trader. “No one’s got much coin these days, an’ them that has coin wants exotics from Sador or lavish trinkets from the Twentyfamilies. Even with the Herders sayin’ it’s all Lud-curst.” I was surprised at the accent, for most soldierguards came from lowlander stock. I also wondered what sort of trader a Twentyfamilies was. I did not know what the word meant, but I was sure I had heard it before, and recently.
    “We’re away next,” Matthew sent.
    I saw that he was nervous. “Remember, don’t be apologetic or humble. It isn’t the gypsy way, and it will seem odd.”
    The Farseeker ward had been on plenty of expeditions, but this was his first visit to the lowlands. It was one thing to fool a highland villager and another entirely to lie barefaced to hardened soldierguards.
    “There may nowt be humble gypsies, but there’s plenty of silent, surly ones,” he said. “I’ll be one of them, an’ you