Free BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1) by Auryn Hadley

and pranced elegantly beside him.  The recruits let their laughter trail off when they realized she'd seen something they missed.  The stablehand presented the mare for LT's inspection, and he directed the staff to clean her off.  Buckets of water and curries were applied and the mud flowed away, leaving blobs of color in its wake.  Not quite clean, but now merely dirty instead of mud encrusted, her true color was as impressive as her form.  The mare appeared to be white, covered from nose to toes in large dark dots the size of Sal's fist and bigger.  On her face and legs, the spots clustered, giving the impression of dark points.
    "I don't even know what her color is called," Sal whispered in awe.
    "Pinzgauer," Arctic replied.  "They're relatively rare."
    "So, Passel," the Lieutenant said while Sal's horse headed to the barn, "you find one that will work?"
    The boy shrugged, "I just thought the chestnut out there would be good enough, and he might blend in a bit more than that thing."
    LT nodded, sent a handler to pull in the colt Sal had initially looked at, then said, "Your mounts will be cared for, and soon we should know if they will need their training finished – or started.  I want to discuss with my troops, and we will meet back at the fountain in an hour."
    The Blades turned, not quite in unison with the blackout in their minds, and cantered off.  The recruits also dispersed, leaving Sal unsure of what to do with her time.  She decided she wanted to see the mare again, so headed toward the barns.
    The Stables at Stonewater were a haven for horses.  The barns were large and expansive, unlike the cabins used for recruits.  The smell of fresh straw and horse sweat greeted her nose when Sal walked in.  She never knew why horses didn't set off her predatory instincts, but she'd always liked them. 
    Cross tied in the alley, a cob danced while the rider pulled his mane.  Sal stepped around them carefully.  A few stalls down, she saw the unmistakable head of the veteran's roan.  Across the aisle, her mare and the chestnut colt were stabled, bedded in deep straw, contentedly munching on green hay.  She peered over the half door and stared at the horse.  It felt so unreal.  Only a few days ago, Sal had been little more than nothing.  Now, she stared at the possibility that she would soon not only ride, but own a horse of her own. 
    Holding a hand out, she clicked softly at the mare and giggled when velvet lips caressed her palm.  Taking the opportunity, she stroked the long muscular neck, straining to feel a difference between the dark spots and the white base of her coat.  Her hand came back lined with grime.
    "Hey!" a voice said behind her, causing Sal to tense.  "That mare ain't for the likes of you."  A callused stablehand gripped his rake in one hand, a grimace contorting his face.  He looked her over, his distaste obvious.  "You scrubbers shouldn't go 'round touching things that don't belong to you.  Good thing you can't swipe a horse or I'd be calling guards!"
    "Actually," Sal replied, feigning a calm she didn't feel, "this mare is for the 'likes' of me.  You're more than welcome to call my commanding officer.  It's Lieutenant Blaec Doll.  Maybe you've heard of him?"  She couldn't keep the sneer out of her voice but she did restrain her snarl.
    The stablehand's eyes widened at the mention of the Lieutenant.  His body stuttered in place until his mind finally caught up, then he scurried down the aisle, rake still in hand.  At the door, he tossed a glance over his shoulder and, finding her still watching, hurried out.  Sal growled softly.  She would never escape the hatred of humans. For each success she achieved, there was always some dark-skinned ape there waiting to laugh in her face.  Every time she proved herself, some human went out of his way to find flaws in what she'd accomplished.  The urge to throw a childish tantrum and run screaming from the barn welled up inside her,