Cheysuli 5 - A Pride of Princes by Roberson Jennifer

Author:Roberson, Jennifer [Roberson, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-08-31T17:19:53+00:00

Hart assessed him a moment. Then, smiling, he said,

"A horse."

Dar shrugged. "I breed the finest horseflesh in Solinde.

It would be difficult to offer me better than I have."

"Judge him for yourself. He is tied just outside."

The Solindishman's mouth twitched in amusement. "So prepared to lose . . . well enough, let us judge the worth of this horse."

Hart led the way outside. Once there, he was pleased to see the look of shock on Dar's face. "My horse, Solindishman. Worth enough, do you think?"

228 Jennifer Roberson

"That is lisa's horse! I myself bred him, raised him, trained him ... I sold him to her only because she refused to accept him as a gift." His face was white with anger. "How does he come to be with you?"

"A gift," Hart said lightly, "from the lady to me."

Dar's breath hissed. "You lief'

"Send a messenger to ask her." Purposely, Hart kept his tone light. He had known all along divulging the source of the stallion would force Dar's hand, although he bad not known the man himself had bred the stallion.

It made the challenge all the sweeter. "If you will recall from the lady's story of our meeting in the wood, my own mount broke both forelegs and had to be destroyed.

This horse was sent to replace him."

"This horse—" Dar was nearly incoherent as he swung to face Hart directly. "Name your wager, shapechanger.

This horse is worth more than the gold I offer."

Blandly, Hart smiled. "The Third Seal of Solinde."

After a moment of taut silence, Dar said something succini in explicit—and idiomatic—Solindish. Hart's grasp of the language extended only to a few halting phrases; slang was beyond him. But the tone told him more than enough.

"Undoubtedly I am whatever you claimed I am," he said cheerfully. "Now, shall we go back inside and settle this?"

Dar looked at the stallion, who tugged at his reins and tried to reach out to the Solindishman. It set white dents of anger at the corners of Dar's mouth. His eyes were black as he stared at Hart. "You risked the Seal without knowing its worth," he said flatly. "I am not so foolish—I know its worth. Do you think I will risk it on a thing so inconsequential as a game?"

"Perhaps not," Hart said calmly. "But will you risk it for a woman?"

Dar spat at the ground, just missing Hart's boots.

"That for your game!" he said tightly. "Inside, shapechanger, and we shall see who gains that woman."

In silence, they played a final game of Bezat. Hart did not look at the Solindish ring that sat atop the pile of red 229

A PKIDE OF PKWCES

gold in front of Dar; he did not dare to. Nor did he look at his own pile, upon which waited the sapphire ring he risked as well as the horse. The stakes were not anything like the game in which he had risked his life, but he found it no less fascinating. If he won, it would prove there was a place in the world for his gaming.

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