The Stumpwork Robe (The Chronicles of Eirie 1) by Prue Batten Read Free Book Online

and finally a bad tempered shout, as the animal limped around the bend and to the edge of the Passing with a foul mouthed Bellingham astride. ‘You bloody bag of dog meat!’ He raised a whip, sawing at the reins. In obvious pain, the horse laid back its ears and sidestepped, dropping its lame shoulder.
    ‘Ho sir!’ Liam stepped out from under the autumnal shade. ‘What’s amiss?’
    Bellingham swung his horse toward the voice, missing the gliding movement of a hand in front of the body. With a mesmer laid, he had no idea the man facing him was the same 'bastard' who had swung Ana off the log. As Liam had planned, he was just a journeyman on the highway. ‘The cursed nag has cast a shoe and I daresay bruised a sole, with me yet to ride three more miles.’ He kicked at the horse.
    ‘I would sell you mine for the price of yours and some extra thrown in,’ Liam grinned.
    ‘Extra,’ Jonty snorted. ‘My horse would be worth twice yours and then some. Anyway, where’s this nag you think so highly of.’
    Liam pointed to the huge elm at the edge of the beck and the magnificent black beast he had so admired earlier strode out. Each step revealed rippling muscle, light shone on the surreal coat, the etched ears pricked forward and the tail was held high as if it were an ebony bannerol. Liam knew what Bellingham would be thinking, such a mind was not hard to read; prancing down Prosser High street on board the superb mount with people running out of the way of flashing silver hooves.
    The thug sucked in his breath as he used his spurs to push his damaged horse close. ‘How much?’
    ‘As much as is in your pockets now and your horse.' So little you think, Bellingham?  Think me a fool, do you? We shall see.
    Jumping off, he thrust his reins into Liam’s hands. S weat, grime and other unappealing body odors filled the air as he dug around in his pockets and Liam wondered briefly if his plan would work. Bellingham threw a pocketful of gelt in Liam’s direction and stalked towards the beast by the beck, growling as he went. ‘Help me mount!’
    The horse skittered sideways as they approached. ‘Steady my man,’ said Liam, ‘Steady. You shall never have as a good a treat as the rider you are about to carry.’ The beast’s eyes flicked open and closed, a shadow in them growing bigger and then reducing, lips drawing back over the beast’s teeth.
    ‘Have you no saddle?’ Bellingham stood by the side of the huge animal, his hand gliding over the silk coat.
    ‘Sir, this horse is so well bred and schooled, you could ride him without bridle or saddle and you would feel as safe as if you and he were melded together.’
    The horse sniffed Bellingham’s hand and in a gesture Liam thanked the Nicker for, licked the outstretched palm, tasting the mortal juices. ‘Come on then, give me a leg-up!’ A leg was bent at the knee as Bellingham waited to be hefted. In moments the job was done and he sat high, gazing along an arched neck toward the perfect ears. As the horse moved forward with low, smooth strides, Liam passed his hand again, breaking the mesmer charm, leaving Bellingham fully aware of every movement, every nuance in the horse’s body and of everything his eyes should alight upon.
    ‘Trot him in a circle sir, and I’m sure you will find he’s the ride of your life.’ Liam watched the beast's skin twitch as Bellingham's legs hung down the flanks. Watched the ears slide back flat for a moment as the animal appeared to be thinking.
    Bellingham nodded, not looking in Liam’s direction as he turned the beast to left and right. Then he urged the animal to a canter, heading him towards the Passing. But the beast swerved away and Bellingham swore, dragging at the reins with hard hands. The horse began to canter in circles, tossing his head and lifting his hind legs in agitated bucks. ‘What goes?’ he called over his shoulder. ‘The swine won’t turn!’ He glanced back at Liam who stood hands in pockets leaning