by T. A. White
Eva considered the two before regarding the horse standing placidly at her side, one ear flicking. The gray wasn't alarmed. She trusted these men. Animals, in Eva’s experience, were excellent judges of character.
"Alright, I will," she said, straightening.
Surprise filled both men's expressions as they glanced at each other.
"You're explaining this to the warband leader," Ollie said. "Right after you explain how Caia managed to escape in the first place."
The second man sighed and rubbed his neck. He beckoned Eva with his fingers. "Alright, you, let's go. Our camp isn't far but we should get back before our leader gets any more upset with us."
Eva hesitated for one last second. Had she made the right choice?
"We won't hurt you. I promise." Ollie shot her look of encouragement as he took hold of the gray's halter.
"And a Trateri is only as good as his word," the second man said, his face serious.
Eva took a deep breath and nodded before ducking into her small burrow for the backpack. It wasn't much, but it was all she had left of her former life.
She hoped this new one was better than the last.
CHAPTER ONE
Eva's jaw cracked as a loud yawn escaped. She reached up to smooth back her blond hair, her hand snagging on a twig and a few stray leaves. With a grimace, she pulled out the offending objects before dropping them to the ground. That's what she got for spending the night outside among the horses.
Not that she minded. Spending time with her charges was one of her favorite things in the world. It was never a hardship.
Eva's pace was slow and meandering as she made her way toward camp where she hoped to find her first meal of the day. The night had been long and sleep inconsistent, which was why her thoughts were a touch sluggish, and she was slow to react when an insistent voice intruded.
"Where can we find the herd master?" The words were loud and vaguely irritated as if the speaker had repeated the question several times already.
Eva took in a group of three with some surprise. The sun was barely up and there weren’t supposed to be any teams riding out today. She should have had the pasture to herself for a while longer.
The person standing slightly in front of the other two glared at her with an expression she'd seen many times before. Just not here, on her own territory, her herd grazing in the meadow behind her. He looked at her like she was an idiot, impatience filling his expression.
It left her feeling annoyed before he’d even spoken.
The speaker was tall, young, maybe a few years younger than Eva. Like most Trateri, he lacked a beard. He was more fair-skinned than many of the Trateri she knew, who tended toward darker colored skin. His eyes were green and his hair a dirty blond.
The two behind him looked like typical Trateri, almond colored skin and darker hair. One was a woman, her gaze curious and bright as she looked at the herd behind Eva with what looked like anticipation. The other man had a friendlier face than the one who'd spoken, his features soft where the other man’s were sharp.
"He'll be around the cook's fire. You can find him there." Eva was careful to keep her voice polite.
She always tried to be polite—until she wasn't. She'd been working on that to mixed results.
The first man triggered dark memories, of a time when she was treated with disdain, of people who always seemed impatient with her when she spoke, but that wasn’t entirely his fault. She knew very well she tended to be judgmental and standoffish with strangers—a consequence of a past she'd rather forget—but that didn't mean she had to react from that place. As her mother used to say, “you get out of this world what you put into it.”
Of course, her mother probably hadn't intended for Eva to take it the way she had, but that was another story.
"Throwaway," the girl said in a low voice to the man in front. His eyes hardened and his expression shifted until it was subtly hostile.
Eva didn't react to the statement. At least not outwardly.
It wasn't entirely true. She wasn't so much a throwaway as a tagalong. She'd left her village voluntarily to join the Trateri. She hadn't been part of the tithe the Trateri demanded of those they conquered, but that was neither here nor there. These three were reacting to her differences, and that wouldn't do.
She might not have been born Trateri, but she'd decided to die as one.
They would learn that soon. If they pushed too far, she'd make sure they were saddled with the most ornery and obstinate nags she could find.
Her lips curled slightly. Echo might do. The last person who'd ridden that nag had prostrated themselves in apology before Eva on their return. The smart riders knew you didn't piss off a herd mistress when you were asking for a mount. Even if that herd mistress didn't technically have her own herd yet.
Her barely-there smile fell at the reminder.
"Let's go." Their unspoken leader dismissed her without a backwards glance.
Probably for the best. Eva had already gotten into enough arguments with warriors. The head herd master wouldn't be pleased to find her in the midst of another so soon after the last.
She trailed the three as they headed toward the cook's fire where she'd hoped to find breakfast.
"Eva, girl, over here. I've already got your food," a friendly voice said from her right.
Eva came out of her thoughts to find Ollie with his hand outstretched, a plate with food in it. She took in the offering, moving slowly to take it as he bit his lip trying to hide the smile she knew was there.
"Thank you," she muttered, shuffling over to take a seat next to him and Hardwick, the head herd master.
Hardwick took in the exchange with his usual grumpy expression.
He'd scared the piss out of her the first time she met him. He'd been austere and abrupt, with a glower that could skewer you in place.
His skin was worn from the sun. Fine lines feathered out from the corners of his eyes and his dark hair was shot through with gray. His frown was the stuff of legends. She'd seen many Trateri warriors back down, their bluster forgotten, when he scowled at them in that way he had.
He was quieter than most, blunt and direct when he did speak, but he knew more about horses than anyone else. He was who Eva wanted to be when she grew up. No nonsense and gruff, someone people respected and listened to.
Ollie was his opposite in all ways. Tall, but with a leanness that belied his strength. He had to be to handle those horses who liked to test boundaries. He was easy, where the head herd master was harsh. Friendly, where the other man was taciturn.
His hair was a dark chestnut that reminded her of a bay, and he had a long face that always resembled the horses they tended.
Ollie was the reason Eva had this life. He hadn't just escorted her back to the warband he was with the day he discovered her. He'd advocated on her behalf and convinced them to let her help him care for the horses—many of which were wild and unbroken—stallions and mares they'd captured during a journey to their homeland where the horses roamed free.
Once they'd reached the main body of the Trateri army, he'd convinced Hardwick to give her a place among those caring for the herd. This was something that normally would have gone against the other man's instincts, to let a person, background and character unknown, care for his herd. The Trateri, in some ways, treated their horses better than they did their children. If you were caught neglecting or abusing a mount it would be taken from you and the offender shunned. To be accepted by the head herd master meant a chance at a new life for Eva.
Eva muttered a thank you as she sank onto the stump beside Ollie and Hardwick, digging in with relish. There were eggs and meat in the bowl along with a grain she couldn't quite figure out. Not that it mattered, the concoction was delicious, and more importantly—filling.
Ollie reached up and plucked a piece of grass she’d missed from her hair, holding it up to show her. "Have you been sleeping outside again?"
She slid Ollie a guilty look as she p
aused in her chewing. There was no sense in denying it. The evidence was scattered all over her clothes and hair.
The groan he made was long-suffering as Hardwick looked on silently. "We gave you the tent for a reason. It's considered an honor to be gifted a tent of our clan."
Yes, she was aware.
The Trateri placed significance on the strangest things—like a tent offered to someone the rest of the Lowlands didn't want. The act signaled an acceptance of her place among them—that she had value and was now considered a part of the clan.
Eva was honored. She really was.
She'd be more grateful if they stopped trying to get her to use it. Sleeping with the horses made her feel safe. At least with them, she had dozens of four-legged guardians who were so attuned to their environment they would recognize a predator's approach long before her human senses did.
There was also the small fact no one had shown her how to set up the tent.
She'd do damn near anything for the two of them. Except sleep in that infernal contraption.
"I had a reason this time." Eva flashed Ollie a guilty smile.
He arched an eyebrow. "You always have a reason."
This was true. Eva might not challenge him or Hardwick directly, but she had her own methods for getting her way. Neither man had pushed too hard, letting her act the way she saw fit.
She glanced at Hardwick. "Brighid was restless when I did my rounds last night. Thought I'd stick around and make sure she had company through the night."
Spring was trying to sink its claws into the Highlands, which meant one thing for them. Foals.
Brighid had looked ready to drop for the last week or so, and Eva had thought it likely she might foal overnight. She'd been right.
"Any problems?" Hardwick asked.
Eva scraped up the last of her breakfast, savoring the last spoonful. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
Which didn't mean the night had been easy. The birth was Brighid's first and it hadn't been without its complications. A horse's birthing process was surprisingly fast, especially when compared to that of a human. When Brighid had passed the hour mark of labor and there was still no sign of the second hoof of the foal, Eva had known something was wrong.
The knee of its front leg had gotten lodged against the mother’s pelvis. It had taken some doing, but Eva had gotten the second hoof into the right position. After that, the birth had gone off with little difficulty.
Eva rubbed her neck, reminded of how much the effort had taken out of her. Her back and legs ached. She didn't mind the pain. The successful birth and the joy of watching the mare and foal bond had been worth every moment of uncertainty and work.
Hardwick's grunted. "I'll check on her."
She nodded. Eva had expected nothing less.
The three Trateri from earlier waited across the campfire, bags at their feet.
Noticing where her gaze had gone, Ollie lowered his voice, "Our new apprentices. They're from Rain Clan. Jason, Delia, and Quinn."
"We've met," Eva said.
Apprentices. Great.
She hated when they got new ones. She always ended up having to knock some sense into a couple of the thick-headed ones. They saw her as a Lowlander and thought they didn't have to listen. They soon learned otherwise. If not from her, then from the other herd masters.
She grimaced. Training untested apprentices into proper herd masters took time and patience she preferred to reserve for her charges.
"It won't be so bad," Ollie said, guessing where her thoughts had gone. "They're practically half-trained already."
"Easy for you to say," Eva muttered, scraping her spoon along the bottom of the bowl. "You're not the one they always pick a fight with."
"Maybe this time don't take the bait."
She leveled an unamused stare on Ollie.
"You'll be grateful soon enough," Ollie promised, unaffected. "Foal season is upon us. I predict in a couple of weeks you'll be thanking the stars we have three extra hands to help."
Doubtful.
"No use griping. It is what it is. Each of them will shadow one of us while I assess their skills," Hardwick rumbled. "Ollie, you're with Delia, I'll take Quinn. Eva, you're with Jason."
Eva waved her spoon to signal her compliance while making a less than thrilled sound she hoped would be mistaken for enthusiasm.
Hardwick's grunt said he had correctly interpreted her effort for what it was but wasn't going to take issue with it now. "Eva, you're on the west pasture, Ollie take the south. I'll check on last night's foal."
Hardwick stood, jerking his chin at Quinn. The tall Trateri trailed behind the head herd master with one last glance at his fellow apprentices.
Ollie sighed and set his bowl in the wash basin and gestured for the woman to follow him. Eva had to fight back her groan when she realized the most troublesome of the lot had been assigned to her.
Jason's face reflected a similar disbelief and dislike, no happier about his placement than she.
So much for her peaceful morning.
Eva's spoon plopped back into her bowl and she set the half-eaten food aside, her appetite gone.
She stood. "Let's get to it."
*
By midmorning, Eva was wiping the sweat from her eyes as she tried to talk herself out of throttling her new apprentice. Well, Hardwick's apprentice that she was in charge of whipping into some semblance of shape.
It wasn't that Jason was dumb or bad at tending to the horses. Quite the opposite actually. He had some talent with the horses. Unfortunately, he also had a talent for arguing and second-guessing every order Eva issued.
It was enough to make her long for the peace of yesterday, when she was able to check on the herd in relative silence and not have to count to three every time she opened her mouth for fear of what would come out of it.
Why had Hardwick given her the worst of the bunch? Something told her Quinn or Delia wouldn't have been nearly so hard on her nerves.
"Are we done yet?" Jason whined.
Eva gave him a disbelieving look. They were barely halfway through their morning chores.
"I'm hungry. When is the midday meal?"
"Not for a while yet." Eva ran her hands along the mare's legs, picking up one hoof and checking the frog for rocks before moving to the next.
Jason let out an angry exhale, his frustration and unhappiness as loud as a shout. "How much longer are we going to be doing this? These horses haven't been ridden for weeks. Why are we checking them for injuries?"
"Any horse from this herd needs to be ready to ride out at a moment's notice. By making sure they're healthy every day, we can catch things before they become a bigger issue." Patience wasn't Eva's strong suit, especially when the answer should be obvious.
There was a grumble from behind her that she ignored as she straightened and patted the pretty piebald mare's neck. The mare moved off, ducking her head to tear out a clump of grass.
"Hardwick is in charge of the horses for those warriors directly under the warlord's command." Which meant they were some of the best horses among the Trateri. Warriors would give their left arm for a horse trained by Hardwick. His herd was the most prized, his horses legendary. "We take care of those horses whose riders have returned to camp so the warriors can focus on their duties. We also train the new mounts for the warriors."
"I'm Trateri. I know all this." Jason folded his arms over his chest.
A small whicker interrupted the sharp retort Eva had planned as a mare raced across the rolling hills of the valley. A dappled gray mare slowed and pranced toward Eva, her tail raised and her ears pricked forward.
"Hello, my love," Eva crooned, reaching up to pat the mare's neck as the horse lipped at Eva's hair in greeting.
Caia snuffled, breathing in her scent before snorting a great explosion of air at her, a silent recrimination for Eva's abandonment to tend to the pregnant mare overnight.
"I missed you too," Eva assured her. The mare could be a tad jeal
ous when she felt like she wasn't getting enough attention. Best to nip such behavior in the bud before Caia acted out. Last time Caia had felt neglected, she'd upended the cook's tent before dragging it halfway across camp. The warriors thought it was hilarious. Hardwick had not.
Lucky for her, Hardwick had a soft spot for the contrary beast. It had only taken a week’s duty at the worst chores to get him to forgive Eva for the debacle.
"Woah, who's horse is this?" Jason asked in awe as he walked toward Caia.
"I wouldn't get too close," Eva advised.
Jason ignored her, stepping closer as he lifted his hand.
Caia stood still, waiting until the other man was close before she lifted a foot and stomped down. Jason yelped, barely avoiding having his foot crushed.
"I did warn you.” Eva fought to conceal her smile.
Caia's tail flicked back and forth as she stood there with an innocent expression on her face.
Jason scowled and reached for the mare again. This time Caia nipped his arm. Eva knew from experience the bite would hurt like hell and bruise. At least Caia hadn't broken skin this time.
Jason drew back, his face flushing. "That horse is crazy."
"She's not crazy; she's temperamental,” Eva defended. “There's a difference."
Caia reached out, trying to nip the man again. Jason danced out of the way just in time, cradling the offended appendage as he glared at the mare.
"Hardwick said we had to be nice," Eva scolded gently, setting a hand on her friend's shoulder. Not that Eva blamed Caia. After the morning she'd had, she would have liked to take a nip or two out of Jason herself.
Caia wheeled, frolicking in a circle as Eva moved onto the next clump of horses where they grazed.
"You know what nettle bright is?" Eva asked, moving her hands down a horse's leg.
"Of course I know what that is. My last herd master wasn't an idiot," he muttered.
Eva controlled her weary frustration at his defensive statement. He was new. They'd learn each other's rhythm soon enough.
"Humor me," she said.
She could practically feel him rolling his eyes behind her. "It’s silverish in color and has three leaves that look like spikes. In bloom it has a purple flower."
