Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html DO NOT BITE OR CLAW THIS HORSE, she thought to Hotblood.Herdstallion and I are going to play . Gripinpushpushpush? he hoped. Bastard peeping tom keeps listening in when I fuck. Of Hotblood's bad habits, that was the worst, at least in Shkai'ra's opinion.No. Playfight . Oh. He looked at the horse speculatively.Fight horse ? DO NOT BITE OR CLAW THIS HORSE, she thought again. Sigh. Sheep? "He's being real good; do you have any spare sheep?" "Oh, I think we could find one somewhere," Chevenga said, with a musing smile. He mounted, and the Lakan black stamped and sidled, not happy. He gentled it down but it sweated anyway, as he wheeled away to take position. Shkai'ra mounted, did likewise at the opposite ends of the field. They saluted, then charged, Shkai'ra giving the Kommanza war-cry. Thesemanakraseye was a little slower off the mark, his Lakan destrier needing greater time to build up speed.Careful, it outweighs Hotblood by a third . She leaned forward along his neck, blade out and wrist locked; Chevenga was sitting straight with his butt against the high cantle, sword back for a chopping stroke. Closer—but his horse swerved, and they passed just out of sword's reach. "Shit!" Shkai'ra cursed. Hehe, Hotblood commented. Shut up! They wheeled; he was speaking to his horse, patting its neck. The whites of its eyes showed; foam blew off its neck on muscles standing out like iron. She could see the strain in his forearms, from reining. "Is that a war-horse,kras , or a racer?" she called, grinning. "Warhorse!" he called back. "Steady as stone, unfailing as a Haian's oath. Except today, when he's decided to be a racer…" She saw the flash of gold teeth, as he grinned. "As many an Arkan destrier will, too." Hotblood darted forward before Shkai'ra could stop him; thought-gigglinghehehe , he stretched his neck and hissed in the Lakan black's face, making it jump, all four feet in the air.I wish he hadn't been eating so much horsemeat . Chevenga barely managed to stay in the saddle and kept gentling. Between its urge to be elsewhere and his direction, the Lakan turned in a U, circling. The watchers laughed, shouting Yeoli, making chicken-clucks. He yelled something in Yeoli back to them, turning his head away from her. In the moment's relaxation she allowed herself then, a dark shadow with wooden sword was blurring above her. Shit. She rolled out of the saddle, crouching down.I should have expected it: horse being a hindrance, not a help —leave it. And off one leg while looking the other way, perfectly misleading
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html clues, beautiful. He twisted midair and landed on her leg, pinning her to the saddle, now givinghis war-cry, hoarse and deafening.Shield down, stop him chopping at the leg; Baiwun he's fast. Block, shield, sword, shield … Whump. Hotblood's head came around and back; she heard and felt the thump against Chevenga's back. He flew over her head, his scarred face passing by hers with an expression almost casual, eyes fixed carefully on the ground where he was headed, to land rolling fluidly onto his feet. She cantered off, flicking herself back upright in the saddle. His horse was long gone; she could see a gap in the spectators, and a bobbing black thing trailing a tent. "Nice try!" she yelled from ten yards.Sheepshit, that was close . He just beckoned her to him with his sword, standing upright in a natural stance. This says something. At least three hundred people were watching, enough to make whatever happened here common knowledge in camp in a day. A shrugging matter if he beat her—but ifshe beat him , the Invincible, on whom all their hopes rested…He's smart enough not to underestimate me, and to know I'm not going to hold back in one sinew for one instant. Yet he was doing this, and with a grin. So confident in your own skill, Gold-bottom ? She remembered Ivahn's words: "He takes great risks." "Eeeeeeiiiiiii" Hotblood sprang into charge. Saber back and up for a forward-sweep cut, mount's shoulder into the footman and the blade chops with all the weight behind itbut pull it, we're sparring … As if he was going to stay there—damn. In the last instant Chevenga spun out of line somehow, jumped, this one's a fucking jackrabbit he's over the line of my cut . She flipped the saber into the overhand guard down her spine, but he kicked in midair, sandalled foot whipping out flicker-fast. The heel rapped her shoulder, just hard enough to make her reel in the saddle. He should have gone for my head or neck; a miss, or intentional? She'd seen his face at the apex of the jump, measuring carefully like before.Give him the benefit of the doubt, at least half of it . She rolled out of the saddle on the other side, landing on her feet. Hotblood circled, then lay down and sulked when she told him to stay out. This wasnot a scream and leap situation. Ex-gladiator, she thought.Used to duels, in front of crowds . She stood, shield up under her eyes, saber laid flat along her spine. Now he was rushing her, the hoarse cry again, cut low straight from the run, blurring fast. She leaped over it, milked the hilt as she slashed down, onto his shield.Thud . The shock jarred her arm. Blocked his sight, hah!—she punched out the wood sabre in a lunge at his midriff, to be turned perfectly by his, almost delicately, just enough motion to send it offline…Shit, can the steer-raper see through leather ? Then he attacked, high cut, low cut, thrust at eyes, elbow… She remembered: manrauq. He has weapon-manrauq . She kept the shield in front of her, on the defensive, the blows rocking back into her shoulders,Baiwun, he's strong for his size , slightly shorter than her. She yielded ground, stop-thrust to make him guard, bounded backward.Thrust again while I'm outside his fighting range; keep him there and I can peck at him . No, he understood how to fight like one smaller, getting inside and moving quick; besides he had long arms for his height, deceptive. The brown eyes were even more wide-open now, concentrating, pupils big. She and he moved together, like dancing, like sex, each of hands and feet and bodies in concert, in amber honey. Once their gaze caught, and his lips parted in a small quiet smile.
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