Read Online BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1) by Auryn Hadley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Auryn Hadley
Ads: Link
unless their families had wealth enough to supply it. Sitting on the sidelines, she'd listened to the basics over and over: heels down, hands soft, eyes up, don't balance on the reins, but that was different from putting it into practice. Maybe this test would be to analyze the mechanics of riding?
Looking over her shoulder across the pastures, her eyes kept returning to a lone horse in the field. Covered in mud, contained in a small paddock away from the rest of the impressive stock, it kept calling into the wind, prancing around the perimeter of the paddock, tail flagged. She wondered if the horse called for a foal recently weaned, or if she was a new addition, quarantined to prevent spreading disease.
Sal's dehydrated mouth begged for another drink. She sucked at her flask, wishing she hadn't gotten so drunk. Behind her, the mare continued her protest against the confinement unabated.
Turning to the seven horses tied along the fence, she focused on the differences in each and analyzed them. The axe-headed beast near the end had the traits to make a good battle steed, but only barely. The rest were more suited for parades. A high headed palomino spooked at recruits walking up, pulling hard against its tether, digging its heels into the soft arena sand until stablehands shooed it back onto its feet. The chestnut, a brilliant, deep red with high white socks and a near perfect blaze, showed signs of age in his joints and posture. From the animals before her, he suited her abilities the best. His age and attitude were that of a veteran. His experience could cover for what Sal's lacked.
Eventually the Black Blades arrived, making a grand entrance on their own battle-ready steeds. LT sat his black like he was born there and addressed the six recruits before him from the saddle.
"A special operations unit is nothing without transportation. In our case, our mounts are a second arm, a tool we use more than even our weapons. The six of you are all that remains from the fifteen we started with, so I had seven animals pulled up. Choose the horse from this stable that seems suited to be your permanent mount. If you pass these trials it will be assigned to you, purchased and paid for in full by the CFC.
"This horse will serve as your day to day transportation, it will be the mount you depend upon in the midst of combat, and it will be how you drag your broken body back to camp when a mission goes bad. You are looking for a smart animal, a willing partner, and one brave enough to do what is needed in the midst of war. These horses have only the basic training, which is why we have you choose now, so the staff can focus on the needs of each rider."
It was another test, but this time the Lieutenant didn't tell them what they would be scored on. The pressure to choose wisely weighed on each of them.
"Feel free to inspect the horses, but you may not ride them. The staff will be happy to have them move out for you to appraise. You have one hour."
Sal ducked between the rails of the arena fence and, like the other recruits, made her way to get a closer view. While the chestnut would be well suited to her, the thought of limiting herself with an aged and already weary partner left a bad taste in her mouth. The men clustered around the impressive black, the flashy pinto, or the hot blooded palomino, none of which had the mind for the job the Blades would ask of it. Sal remembered stories of the Black Blades pushing their mounts to the limit, riding over mountains at break neck speeds to gain a better angle from which to harry larger forces. The axe-headed roan could handle that, and possibly the fat bay.
She managed to find a handler and pointed out the ones that might be tolerable, asking to see them move like LT suggested. The black lost her interest immediately. Her initial assessment had been correct. He was better suited for a parade mount than a war horse.
She
Looking over her shoulder across the pastures, her eyes kept returning to a lone horse in the field. Covered in mud, contained in a small paddock away from the rest of the impressive stock, it kept calling into the wind, prancing around the perimeter of the paddock, tail flagged. She wondered if the horse called for a foal recently weaned, or if she was a new addition, quarantined to prevent spreading disease.
Sal's dehydrated mouth begged for another drink. She sucked at her flask, wishing she hadn't gotten so drunk. Behind her, the mare continued her protest against the confinement unabated.
Turning to the seven horses tied along the fence, she focused on the differences in each and analyzed them. The axe-headed beast near the end had the traits to make a good battle steed, but only barely. The rest were more suited for parades. A high headed palomino spooked at recruits walking up, pulling hard against its tether, digging its heels into the soft arena sand until stablehands shooed it back onto its feet. The chestnut, a brilliant, deep red with high white socks and a near perfect blaze, showed signs of age in his joints and posture. From the animals before her, he suited her abilities the best. His age and attitude were that of a veteran. His experience could cover for what Sal's lacked.
Eventually the Black Blades arrived, making a grand entrance on their own battle-ready steeds. LT sat his black like he was born there and addressed the six recruits before him from the saddle.
"A special operations unit is nothing without transportation. In our case, our mounts are a second arm, a tool we use more than even our weapons. The six of you are all that remains from the fifteen we started with, so I had seven animals pulled up. Choose the horse from this stable that seems suited to be your permanent mount. If you pass these trials it will be assigned to you, purchased and paid for in full by the CFC.
"This horse will serve as your day to day transportation, it will be the mount you depend upon in the midst of combat, and it will be how you drag your broken body back to camp when a mission goes bad. You are looking for a smart animal, a willing partner, and one brave enough to do what is needed in the midst of war. These horses have only the basic training, which is why we have you choose now, so the staff can focus on the needs of each rider."
It was another test, but this time the Lieutenant didn't tell them what they would be scored on. The pressure to choose wisely weighed on each of them.
"Feel free to inspect the horses, but you may not ride them. The staff will be happy to have them move out for you to appraise. You have one hour."
Sal ducked between the rails of the arena fence and, like the other recruits, made her way to get a closer view. While the chestnut would be well suited to her, the thought of limiting herself with an aged and already weary partner left a bad taste in her mouth. The men clustered around the impressive black, the flashy pinto, or the hot blooded palomino, none of which had the mind for the job the Blades would ask of it. Sal remembered stories of the Black Blades pushing their mounts to the limit, riding over mountains at break neck speeds to gain a better angle from which to harry larger forces. The axe-headed roan could handle that, and possibly the fat bay.
She managed to find a handler and pointed out the ones that might be tolerable, asking to see them move like LT suggested. The black lost her interest immediately. Her initial assessment had been correct. He was better suited for a parade mount than a war horse.
She
Similar Books
