By Robert Adams
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Additional resources for A Woman of the Horseclans (Horseclans Saga 12)
Then, many hands took over the task of bearing the body to the bath area for cleansing. Other men, of both clans, hitched horses to carts, collected axes and mounted other horses before setting out to the nearest wooded area to collect fuel for a pyre. Bettylou expected the very worst when Staiklee came face to face with his wife, Lainuh, but she was surprised. Cognizant of the sincerity of the man’s grief and suffering, the sister of the chief was the very soul of consideration and comfort to the returned hunter, quietly ordering others to unsaddle his mounts and bring in all gear that belonged in her yurt.
Tim is seventeen or eighteen winters — I forget exactly which and it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s a good mind-speaker, a proven warrior and a skilled hunter, and he’s no novice bedmate — I’ll warrant he’s sired a few babes of his own already, were the truth known and did anyone care. “He owns some loot from his raidings, and I’m told that he’s an inborn skill at arrow-making and fletching, so even in his dotage he should be a real asset to his family and clan. “He’s not ill-featured, as any can see, he makes regular use of the sweat yurt, shaves his face and usually affects clean clothing.
Chief,” she replied. For a moment, all things — the figures of Tim, her new husband, the short, stocky chief, the folk gathered around, the outlines of the yurts beyond them — seemed to shimmer, then the trodden, dusty ground rushed up at her face and all of the world became a roaring, red-black nothingness, spiralling tightly and ever more tightly around and around with a pressure that would have been unbearable had it lasted a heartbeat longer. When she again opened her eyes it was to behold the inside of the roof of a yurt, but not the nowfamiliar Morai yurt.
A Woman of the Horseclans (Horseclans Saga 12) by Robert Adams