Lady of Horses (66 page)

Sarama could not say that it was good to be in this place;
not with such tidings as she had brought. Still she could say, and say truly,
“I’m glad to rest eyes on you again, my brother. Even if I do have to crane my
neck to do it.”

He grinned, inordinately proud of himself.

He might be as tall as the sky, but she knew a trick or two.
She fell on him while he basked in his own grandeur, toppled him with
gratifying ease, and sat on him till he cried for mercy. Which he did soon
enough: and that was all as it used to be, as it well should be. Even he, in
the end, was persuaded to admit to that.

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We hope you have enjoyed this sample of
White Mare’s Daughter
by Judith Tarr

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