Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles #4) - Ilona Andrews Page 0,90

to scream. She had to resist very hard.

“Did they provide you with saddles?”

“Yes,” the stable hand said.

“Bring me one. The one that came with the white one.”

“How will I know which one it is?”

She closed her eyes for a few painful seconds. “The one that has white embroidery.”

The stable hand looked at the Stablemaster. The older vampire shrugged. “Go get it.”

She didn’t wait for the saddle. The savoks had halted at the far end of the corral. Maud climbed the heavy metal fence.

“Hey!” The Stablemaster roared.

The white savok saw her and pawed the ground, preparing for a charge.

Maud inhaled and stuck two fingers into her mouth. A shrill whistle cut through the air.

The savoks froze.

The Stablemaster had lumbered over to the fence and was obviously trying to decide if he should grab Maud and pull her back.

When Dina told Maud about brokering peace on Nexus, she’d mentioned the Khanum, the wife of the Khan, and her children. They were northerners; they would train their savoks in the northern way. Maud whistled again, changing the pitch.

The savoks dashed to her. The Stablemaster made a lunge for her, but she jumped off the fence, down into the corral.

The white savok reached her and reared, pawing the air with his forelegs. Behind her, the Stablemaster swore.

“So beautiful,” Maud told the savok. “Such sharp claws. Such a pretty boy.” He wouldn’t know what she was saying but he would recognize and respond to the tone of voice.

She whistled again, a soft ululating sound, and the savoks pranced around her, nudging her with their muzzles and showing off impressive sharp teeth. The white male hopped in place like a wolf dancing in the snow to scare the mice out of hiding.

“So good. So imposing.”

She whistled again. The white savok bent his knees, laid his head down, and waited. She vaulted onto his back and hugged his neck. He leaped up and took off in a dizzying gallop, circling the corral. It took all of her strength to stay on his back. Finally, she whistled him to a slow trot.

The Stablemaster and his helper, a traditional otrokar saddle in his hands, stared at her, openmouthed. She rode the savok a bit more and dismounted. “The saddle.”

The stable hand passed it to her through the fence.

“Does the white one have a name?”

“Attura.”

Ghost.

Perfect. Let’s hope he can fly like one.

She was so late.

The green plain flew by as Attura dashed through the grass. The savok hadn’t run for a while, and the moment she gave him free rein, he burst into a gallop. For a few happy breaths, after they started off from the stables, Maud let all of her anxiety go and lost herself to the exhilaration of the wind, speed, and power of the beast below her. Attura ran, fueled by the pure joy of it. She felt that joy and, swept up in his need to run free, she let him do it and shared in it.

Eventually though, reality came back like a heavy blanket wrapping around her. She checked her harbinger. They had swung too far to the west, nearing the mesas rising on her left. The hunting party rode through the center of the plain, to the east and just about four miles ahead. Reluctantly, she shifted in the saddle, whistling softly. Attura whined, slowing.

“I know, I know.” She promised herself that the next time she had a few hours free, she would bring Attura back out here and let him run himself out. But now they had a hunting party to catch.

The savok settled into a fast canter, which wasn’t really the best term. The canter of Earth horses was a three-beat gait, while the savok launched himself forward with his powerful hind legs and pawed at the ground with his forelimbs. It was a stride more reminiscent of a wolf or a greyhound. But it was one rung slower than his sprint, so she called it a canter. Maud steered her mount on an interception course and soon they found a comfortable rhythm.

She checked her harbinger again. It obediently projected the target of the hunt, a large vaguely feline beast the size of a rhinoceros with dark-green fur marked by splotches of deep rust red. The House Krahr Huntmaster was tracking it, but the main hunting party, and Maud, had no idea where it would come from. The vampires didn’t like hunts with training wheels.

Daesyn really was a beautiful planet, Maud decided. Soft green grass with flashes of turquoise and gold