City of Sorcerers Read Free Page B

his heels. Kelene kicked him, which only made him buck and crab-step sideways. When he finally deigned to go forward, he was mulish, reluctant, and trailing by twelve lengths.
    "You'll never get me off, you dung-headed sack of dog meat!" Kelene screamed at him.
    He gave two more bronco kicks for good measure and swerved toward the spectators who were watching the show with mixed astonishment and amusement.
    Kelene's feelings rose to a full fury. She wrenched on the rein to pull his head around and shouted at him. "Run, you stupid mule! Go, or I'll feed you to the buzzards!"
    The gelding fought her hard. Then his head came around, and he saw the tails of his competition disappearing in the dust far ahead. He snorted angrily, all at once deciding to race. His stride smoothed out to a flowing run, his rage disappeared, and the fighting spirit that Kelene admired came surging back. He sped into a full gallop, his temper forgotten.
    With a grin, Kelene settled down and let him have his head. There was a long way to go in this race, and much could happen. She was not bothered by the fact that they were dead last.
    For two leagues the horses cantered south, paralleling the Goldrine River along the flat grassy valley floor, running at an easy pace so as not to tire too soon. They stayed in a tight bunch for a while, then gradually spread out as the faster horses began to pull ahead. It was not long before Ishtak caught up with those at the rear.
    Stride by stride, the gelding pulled even with several runners and passed them.
    Kelene kept her weight firmly planted on the saddle pad, her hands light on the reins, her legs just tight enough against her horse's sides to keep her balance. Ishtak didn't like fussy riders who interfered with his running with a lot of useless gesturing and urging. Like one creature, the girl and horse united in a common goal as they moved over the grass-covered flats: to win.
    So far, the course had been open and fairly level, but as the racers neared the end of the two-league mark, the route turned east across the river and proceeded up into the more rugged hills that lined the valley.

    Kelene squinted her eyes against the wind and flying dust to peer ahead. Already the front-runners were turning east toward the tree-lined bank of the Goldrine where she could see the sun glinting off the slow, broad river. A tenseness gripped her body as she turned Ishtak slowly left. She glanced back and saw several others cantering close behind. Using the gentlest pressure of her heels, she urged Ishtak forward until he was running in a clear space between several groups of racers.
    They passed some scattered trees, jumped a fallen tree trunk, and raced for the river's edge. Then, before Kelene could draw another breath, the front-runners slowed and' dropped from sight. Those behind the leaders pulled up just long enough to put some space between the horses, then they, too, rode their mounts over the edge.
    When Ishtak reached the bank, he did not hesitate. Placing his hind feet perfectly, he lunged over the drop-off without a pause. Kelene caught a glimpse of a steep bank dropping ten feet down to the river, then she was holding on with all her strength and skill as the gelding fought to keep his balance and stride on the slope. He leaned so far back his tail scraped the muddy ground. Down he scrambled in a slide of dirt, gravel, and weeds.
    One horse in front of Ishtak leaned too far forward, lost its balance, and careened into the path of two others. They fell into the river in a heap of flailing legs and yelling riders. Fortunately none of them were hurt, but the riders were unhorsed and automatically disqualified from the race.
    In a jarring thud, Ishtak reached the narrow strip of mud bank at the bottom. He had to swerve to avoid another struggling, fallen horse, but he kept to his feet on the slippery mud and plowed into the river. Great fountains of silver spray splashed up from his feet.
    The river was fairly