Free Hunter and Fox by Philippa Ballantine Page B

Sometimes he even dared a pat on the remarkably soft nose. Talyn winced every time he did, but Syris did not even flinch. When Talyn had seen the stableboys try that, she had witnessed a few lose a finger or two.
    Perhaps the nykur had taken all his aggression out on Faustin when he was a lad, for he was meek as a lamb now—at least as long as the treats kept coming. Once they were finished, Syris snorted and retreated to the back of the stall.
    Faustin laughed. “The devil in him! I can never get a pat once the meat is finished. You'd think he didn't want to go soft on me.”
    â€œHe likes you, but he doesn't want to become your pet.”
    â€œAh well, I can respect that.” The old man looked faintly sad, though. “It must be a great thing to ride out on him.” He glanced down thoughtfully at his twisted leg.
    â€œThe first time I got on his back he nearly killed me,” Talyn said. “I'd gone down to the river where he was lurking, and I lay down on the bank.”
    The chief stared at her as if she was mad. “And he didn't trample you to death? I would have thought first chance he got…”
    â€œWell, they might be as swift as water and as deadly as fire, but they have one real weakness. The nykur are very curious. So he climbs out of the water and comes over to nudge me. He's trying to work out what I am. That is when I leap up and onto his back.”
    Faustin slapped his good knee and lent forward in delight. “Now that I would pay gold to have seen. I guess you must have survived.”
    Getting into the unexpected joy of telling a tale, Talyn threw her hands in the air. “I thought I wasn't going to! He flung me around until all my body ached, trying to reach me with his teeth or break my spine. Finally, he threw himself down to roll on me.”
    Safely behind the gate, Syris could be heard scraping his hooves on the ground beneath the straw, perhaps reliving the trial himself. Faustin barked a laugh. “I can just see the old devil. You must have had to move pretty sprightly.”
    â€œI jumped out of his way, and when he got up I leapt back on. He made such sounds of anger that the very earth churned. The villagers all ran from their houses in fright. They came to see though, just as he charged into the water to be rid of me by drowning.”
    Faustin looked puzzled.
    â€œThere are tricks we Vaerli know, some that even the Harrowing did not remove. He was not going to get rid of me that way and in time he came to realize that.”
    â€œPerhaps that if he stuck with you there would always be liver and sweetbreads.”
    Talyn knew that was the polite way of phrasing it. In truth Syris knew that there would always be fighting and chaos around her.
    â€œStill,” she said, getting up and watching the nykur through the gate, “I know he didn't really expect to be shut up here for so long.”
    Faustin was staring at Syris with unguarded desire, his face for a moment reflecting a young man's longing.
    Talyn knew then what had really happened. “You tried to ride him too.”
    His blue eyes gleamed. “That I did. I was young and so foolish and brave. I can't be sure, but he seemed to understand me. He looked at me with that dark eye of his, and before I knew it I was grabbing his mane and mounting.” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together thoughtfully, perhaps recalling the cut of the knife-bladed hair on his hands. “It was a glorious feeling, for a while at least. I thought he liked me.”
    Talyn lightly touched his shoulder. “He did, otherwise he would have killed you.”
    â€œWell, as it turned out, the old devil changed my life for the better. With a crippled leg I got a lot more serious about horses. Now, here I am Chief. Funny how life finds a path for you even when it seems darkest.”
    Talyn left the stable hearing those words settle deep inside her. They were words of hope that were not what