Trading By Firelight by C. M. Simpson

Author:C. M. Simpson [Simpson, C. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781642021981
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2019-04-16T22:00:00+00:00

14

Dimanche at Last

They didn’t catch up with the mules until they’d reached the outskirts of Dimanche. The creatures had found themselves a quiet patch of shrooms to browse in and were standing together beneath the golden glow of a cluster of brevilar.

“You sodding ungrateful beasts,” Henri shouted as they turned their heads to watch them approach and then slowly moved away.

Mordan, Marsh thought and the kat slunk swiftly and silently off the trail, appearing in front of the mules shortly thereafter. Gustav’s mount ducked its head and pawed the air in front of her but the kat stood her ground, flattening her ears and curling her lips in a silent snarl. When the mule repeated its actions, she hissed at it and it backed away, glancing back at the advancing humans.

“Easy there,” Gustav murmured, and indicated the kat. “You know I’m a better option.”

He chirruped at it, unbuckling the flap of his belt pouch. The mule caught the movement of his hand and its ears came forward. When he pulled his hand out, it snuffed the air.

“Wait here,” Gustav told the others and walked forward, his hand closed around whatever he’d taken out of the pouch.

The mule watched him come, snorting as he got closer but stretching out its neck so it could investigate what he held in his hand. Gustav let it snuffle at his closed knuckles, resisting the questing nibbles of its lips until it had stepped close enough for him to grasp its bridle.

“Easy there. See? It’s not so bad. Here you go…” And he uncurled his fingers so that it could take the shroom ball from his palm.

While it crunched happily, he took its reins and began inspecting it for any injuries. When he was done with that, he checked its tack, making sure everything was in order and that no sensitivity lurked when he ran his hands under the edges. When he was sure it was okay, he checked the girth and swung into the saddle.

The mule danced a little under him but it didn’t protest, and Gustav signaled them to come collect their mounts.

“You’ll need these,” he added and tossed each of them one of the shroom balls out of his pouch.

Marsh sniffed the one she caught and understood why the mule had stayed. The sticky sweet smell of candy cap caught her nostrils, tempting her to eat the thing herself, but she caught the interested lift of her mount’s head and decided it deserved something for the fright they’d caused it.

She tried to catch its eye as she walked toward it, seeking to connect with it and reassure that it was safe. It bobbed its head, snorting for a few strides as it resisted her call.

“I have candy cap…” she called, holding the shroom ball where it could see it, and it stopped.

Marsh watched the flare of its nostrils as it sought the scent of what it could see in her hand, and it met her gaze and accepted her contact. It was

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