Read Online Jabone's Sword by Selina Rosen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Selina Rosen
Tags: Science-Fiction
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were brought out of the hold. He wasn't used to giving orders, but there was a reason he hadn't offered to help with this. He had never before done it and his madra had told him it was risky business. Bringing horses up from the dark hold into the light and getting them down the gangplank without losing them in the sea took knowledge and a certain finesse. Much training, training he didn't yet have, but decided to get as he watched the horses successfully unloaded.
"I am Jestia," Jestia introduced when it became obvious that Jabone was too preoccupied to do it. "Jabone, Ufalla and Tarius."
Jabone just nodded, not really breathing until the horses were safely on the docks and his horse's reins were in his hand. He was very attached to his mount. The horses had already been saddled and their gear packed onto them. Jabone patted the horse's nose.
"You look like one of us," Richard said, to Tarius which was of course the wrong thing to say to Tarius.
"My father was of your people, but I am Kartik through and through. The very breath of the Great . . . " Ufalla slapped a hand over his mouth as Jabone gave him a heated look.
"You will have to excuse my older brother, Master Richard. He is a small man who takes offense at most everything including our father's blood. I look forward to meeting a great deal more of my father's people," Ufalla said.
"As do I," Jabone said, and reminded Tarius as he told Richard, "my father is also of your country."
Jestia sighed. "While I am the only pure blood among the breeds."
"Shall we go then? It's a long ride and I hope to get there before supper," Richard said.
They were all tired of sea rations and they didn't have to be told again before they had all mounted up and were following Master Richard out of town.
Jabone found the countryside much as his parents had described, it pretty but mostly drab compared to the Kartik. A strange sense of homesickness filled him as he realized he was no longer in his country.
"What are you thinking now?" Ufalla asked him in Kartik.
"How different it must have been for my madra to come here alone and bent on revenge. There was no one to greet her at the docks, no one to lead her to the academy. She was a foreigner alone in a strange world where detection would mean that she'd never get to fight in the war she'd come to fight," Jabone said also in Kartik.
"It's no secret that your madra is very brave," Ufalla answered.
"It's no secret that his madra had already lived more life by then than most people live in a life time," Jestia said, riding up beside Ufalla and looking around her at Jabone. "What's your point Jabone?"
Jabone was more than a little miffed with her. He had been talking to his friend not her. "I don't have to have a point Jestia," he snapped. "I was just talking."
"Oh that's right, you aren't your madra. Your stories don't actually ever go anywhere," Jestia teased.
"I guess it's true what they say about witches," Jabone sneered back.
"What would that be?" Jestia asked.
Jabone was silent, having trouble coming up with a follow up.
"That they're all a bunch of whoring bitches," Ufalla supplied. "No wait, it wasn't all witches that was just you," Jabone and Ufalla laughed.
"Ha, ha," Jestia said, and rode up ahead to where Tarius was talking to Richard. Ufalla and Jabone looked at each other, smiled, and talked of less serious matters.
* * *
The villages stank, and they were filthy. The streets were filled with horse shit and the gutters were filled with human waste. That must be where they dump their pots waiting for a rain to come and clean them out—and send it where? Jabone didn't want to think about that. Most houses in Kartik villages were made of stone or brick. The Katabulls built their huts using a pole construction with woven sticks covered with clay for the walls. Most of these Jethrik buildings were wood and the construction had a cobbled-together look you would have never seen in the Kartik.
"What a wretched,
"I am Jestia," Jestia introduced when it became obvious that Jabone was too preoccupied to do it. "Jabone, Ufalla and Tarius."
Jabone just nodded, not really breathing until the horses were safely on the docks and his horse's reins were in his hand. He was very attached to his mount. The horses had already been saddled and their gear packed onto them. Jabone patted the horse's nose.
"You look like one of us," Richard said, to Tarius which was of course the wrong thing to say to Tarius.
"My father was of your people, but I am Kartik through and through. The very breath of the Great . . . " Ufalla slapped a hand over his mouth as Jabone gave him a heated look.
"You will have to excuse my older brother, Master Richard. He is a small man who takes offense at most everything including our father's blood. I look forward to meeting a great deal more of my father's people," Ufalla said.
"As do I," Jabone said, and reminded Tarius as he told Richard, "my father is also of your country."
Jestia sighed. "While I am the only pure blood among the breeds."
"Shall we go then? It's a long ride and I hope to get there before supper," Richard said.
They were all tired of sea rations and they didn't have to be told again before they had all mounted up and were following Master Richard out of town.
Jabone found the countryside much as his parents had described, it pretty but mostly drab compared to the Kartik. A strange sense of homesickness filled him as he realized he was no longer in his country.
"What are you thinking now?" Ufalla asked him in Kartik.
"How different it must have been for my madra to come here alone and bent on revenge. There was no one to greet her at the docks, no one to lead her to the academy. She was a foreigner alone in a strange world where detection would mean that she'd never get to fight in the war she'd come to fight," Jabone said also in Kartik.
"It's no secret that your madra is very brave," Ufalla answered.
"It's no secret that his madra had already lived more life by then than most people live in a life time," Jestia said, riding up beside Ufalla and looking around her at Jabone. "What's your point Jabone?"
Jabone was more than a little miffed with her. He had been talking to his friend not her. "I don't have to have a point Jestia," he snapped. "I was just talking."
"Oh that's right, you aren't your madra. Your stories don't actually ever go anywhere," Jestia teased.
"I guess it's true what they say about witches," Jabone sneered back.
"What would that be?" Jestia asked.
Jabone was silent, having trouble coming up with a follow up.
"That they're all a bunch of whoring bitches," Ufalla supplied. "No wait, it wasn't all witches that was just you," Jabone and Ufalla laughed.
"Ha, ha," Jestia said, and rode up ahead to where Tarius was talking to Richard. Ufalla and Jabone looked at each other, smiled, and talked of less serious matters.
* * *
The villages stank, and they were filthy. The streets were filled with horse shit and the gutters were filled with human waste. That must be where they dump their pots waiting for a rain to come and clean them out—and send it where? Jabone didn't want to think about that. Most houses in Kartik villages were made of stone or brick. The Katabulls built their huts using a pole construction with woven sticks covered with clay for the walls. Most of these Jethrik buildings were wood and the construction had a cobbled-together look you would have never seen in the Kartik.
"What a wretched,
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