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taking it too far for me!”
    Myrina laughed. “You have all the skills we lack; together we’ll do well!”
    She was grateful for Kora’s determined humor, but she knew that there was a worrying truth behind the jokes. “There are a few mares still in milk and their foals are old enough to be weaned. Once we have their trust, we will be able to milk them, but that will not be until after the next full moon.”
    Kora was not impressed. “It is going to take more than a pitcher of mare’s milk to feed this lot,” she insisted. “Don’t you eat horseflesh? I thought you Moon Riders made your body armor from horsehide!”
    Myrina shrugged uncomfortably. The possibility of being forced to do just that had already been in her thoughts. “We bring merciful death to a horse that grows old or suffers, and then, yes, we use the skin and hair, for we believe the wearer of horse skin is endowed with the beast’s courage. As for eating horseflesh—if it comes to that or starvation, yes, we will do it, but it is not the best way to gain their trust!”
    “Don’t you arch your neck like that at me, Snake Lady!” Kora folded her arms and stood her ground.
    Myrina relented and smiled ruefully, knowing that she’d been unfairly sharp. “You raise fears that I don’t want to face—not just yet. But you are wise to think ahead. Get your net and take some of the girls fishing again!”
    Kora imitated the Moon Riders’ salute and went away smiling.
    Myrina sighed. They should go out hunting, but the horses were not ready for it; and to rush them could mean losing everything. It was suddenly very hard to be patient.

Chapter Nine
Mazagardi Skills
    K ORA, AND THOSE who were not fit enough for the horse gentling, busied themselves keeping fires and gathering wood. All who felt that they could do it spent the morning wandering back and forth to the river, appearing to ignore the horses, but secretly moving closer to them all the time. When the sun reached its highest point in the sky, Myrina lifted her hand, and at this signal some of the women retreated to the camp. They all understood what it meant: the time for gentling was over; now the real work of taming must begin.
    Myrina backed off a little so that she could watch carefully, for this was the most important moment of all. If the horses began to accept their names and riders, they had won the herd; if the beasts took fright and dashed away, everything would be lost.
    The small group who had stayed were the most skilled and experienced horsewomen, and now they strode toward their chosen steeds, a determined advance guard but patience still the most important of their weapons. Each woman picked out her favored mare and in a deep, firm voice spoke the name that she had chosen, fixing her beast eye to eye with a direct gaze.
    “Boss Lady, you are mine!” Coronilla named the blue-black leader of the mares. The newly named Boss Lady backed away for a moment, but then advanced, fiercely snapping her teeth. Coronilla stood her ground and snapped back, so that the mare hesitated, pawing the ground uncertainly.
    “Silversnow . . .” Akasya claimed a beautiful silver-white mare, who seemed to accept her willingly.
    Each woman stayed close to her chosen one, moving at the beast’s side, repeatedly speaking the magical name that she had given, but still no attempt was made to touch. Myrina watched them, her eyes searching among the mares for the one that she would choose. “When I see her, I will know,” she told herself.
    Tamsin was anxious. “Can I go now? Someone else may choose Snowboots! And a horse once named—”
    Phoebe flared her nostrils and ground her teeth. “You’ve made it clear enough to us all!” she said. “None of us would dare!”
    “Patience is everything, Little Lizard!” Myrina told her.
    Tamsin sighed and tried to settle down to keep a watch on Snowboots.
    Myrina sighed, envying her child such certainty. Still she searched among the pricked ears and