The Shadow and Night Read Free

dog!” he shouted. “Oh, Spotback, it’s you! And Quiver, eh? Been having more pups, I hear? Brownlegs? No—it’s Stripes. Look, stop licking so much!”
    A door slid open smoothly in the ground-hugging building ahead. Light streamed out briefly onto the path before being abruptly blocked by the silhouette of a tall, well-built woman with long hair.
    â€œMerral! Praise be! Children! Barrand! It’s Merral! Now, mind the ice over there,” she cried, half running to him. “Here, Nephew, give me a kiss!”
    For a moment all was chaos as, barely allowing time for him to dismount, his aunt Zennia embraced and kissed him, while the children streamed out to hold and hug him and ask a dozen overlapping questions. And all the while the dogs, barking joyously, bounded in between Graceful’s legs.
    â€œNephew Merral! Welcome! ” A deep, jovial voice that seemed to echo came out of the door of the house. “Why, it’s been months!”
    Dogs and children gave way as the large figure of Uncle Barrand, his profile almost bearlike in the gloom, ambled over and hugged Merral to the point of pain as he kissed both cheeks fiercely and repeatedly.
    â€œExcellent! Praise be! Your pack I will take. Thomas? Where is the boy?” His uncle’s bulk swiveled around slowly. “Dogs I see, girls I see, but my only son is missing. Ah, there you are, Thomas! Good, you have a coat on. Take your cousin Merral and his horse—Graceful isn’t it? Thought so—I’d know her even on another world. Take them to the winter stable. I’d take you, but I’m cooking tonight. Girls! Wife! It is cold. Indoors now, and let us finish preparing supper for our guest. He has ridden far. And Thomas . . .”
    â€œWhat, Father?” piped the small voice from by Merral’s side.
    â€œJust take your dog into the stables. Not the whole pack.”
    Merral just made out a dutiful nod from the figure beside him. “Yes, Father! Here, Stripes! The rest of you dogs! You go off to your kennels! Shoo! ” With what seemed to be regret, the other dogs drifted off obediently.
    Thomas, short but well built for his seven years, took Merral’s sleeve and tugged. “Cousin, we have a new stable for winter. An’ I helped Daddy build it. We digged . . .” There was a pause. “Dugged? Dug it together in summer. Over here.”
    Merral ruffled the boy’s black, wiry hair. “It’s good to see you again, Thomas.”
    â€œCousin, the stable is real warm over winter. We got twenty cows, fifteen sheep. When the station says it’s gonna be real cold, we even send the dogs in. An’ we put all our horses there, of course.”
    The track they followed went round the side of the low earth banks that gave some protection from the weather to the Antalfers’ house and down a ramp into a mound. Merral had seen the plans when he’d come by in midsummer; the bitter cold of the last two winters had made a shelter a necessity. Inside the double sliding doors, the long, narrow structure was warm with the smell of animals. Merral led Graceful into an empty pen, made sure she had clean water and hay, and then spent time checking her over, running his hands over her legs and checking the dura-polymer hoof shields. “Good. She seems fine,” he told his cousin. “Always check your animals, Thomas. They are your friends, not your servants.”
    The child nodded and hugged the dog, which licked his face. “Dad says that. I get a horse of my own in two years. I’m gonna really look after him.” Merral nodded and patted the horse’s head gently.
    â€œGood girl, Graceful. Well done.”
    The brown head twisted up from the hay and rubbed itself against his hand as if in mute acknowledgement of the praise.
    Merral stretched himself. “Well, I’m hungry, Master Thomas, so let’s go.”

    Once outside