Witch Song (Witch Song #1)

Chapter 6

The woman's brow puckered as she tapped her chin with her finger. "Wittin, Wittin. Ah, yes, the horseman. Lives on the north side of town." She pointed and gave directions.

Senna weaved her way through the richer part of town. A fair distance from the village, she saw a small house—at least compared to the stables beside it. Along the path, horses of every breed and color played, ate or rested. She looked from one to another and felt her uncertainty grow. The only experience she had with horses was their plow horse that had been shot by a boy on a dare. Draft horses were too slow and cumbersome for much riding.

At the stables, she stepped up to the half-door. The paint was shiny and it looked as clean as a barn could. "Hello?" Nothing. She looked down at Bruke. "You know where they are?"

He snuffed the air and looked back at her. "Well, let's see what they've got. Maybe we could pick one out by the time they get here." She swung open the door and stepped inside. The air was heavy with the warm smell of horses, manure, hay and dirt. Shafts from the windows caught bits of dust, illuminating swirls of air currents.

The first few stalls she passed, the horses snorted indignantly at Bruke. He didn't seem to notice. Senna looked at each and every horse. Black, bay, palomino, sorrel, buckskin. Some were large and squarely built. Others had fine bones and delicate features. Each was different and yet so much of the same. "I have no idea!" she exclaimed as her head swung from one stall to the next.

Then she paused at one of the stalls. A sorrel akin to chestnut. On his forehead, a sliver of a moon; on his muzzle, a snip. Brusenna fingered her necklace as she looked him over. His eyes were gentle and inquisitive. She reached out. He dipped down, allowing her to scratch under his forelock. "Hello," she murmured softly. "What's your name?"

"Knight." The answer came from behind her. Senna whirled around to see a boy—no, a man—no, a boy. Well, at any rate, a boy who was nearly a man, coming toward her.

"Something I can do for you, miss?"

He wasn't handsome, necessarily. His ears stuck out a bit and his chin was a little too soft. But the longer she looked at him, the more she decided maybe he was. He was tall—head and shoulders taller than her. Thin, but in a strong way. He had a crop of brown hair that hung low over his forehead. His legs bowed out at the knees—probably from riding so much. He had a permanent wrinkle around his eyes, as if he never stopped smiling long enough for the lines to smooth out. He was smiling at her now. Unable to help herself, she smiled back. "I want to buy this horse."

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the stall. "Well, Knight is an expensive kind of horse. He's young, with plenty of vinegar, but he's also gentle. Not many horses are both."

"Vinegar?"

He chuckled and she liked the easy way he smiled. "It means he's got a lot of energy—a lot of kick." He stuck out his hand. Senna stared uncertainly at it before reaching out. She felt the calluses on his rough skin. "Name's Joshen."

"Senna."

"Well, Senna. If you're still interested, I could saddle him and you could take him for a ride."

Senna looked back at Knight. "I'd like that."

Joshen retrieved a halter and caught the horse. He opened the gate wide and stepped out. "I'd have to check our books for certain, but I'm sure Knight is worth at least three gold coins. We've a lot less pricey stock that'd work just fine."

Senna knew Joshen was trying to make sure she could pay. But she decided the less she said the better. "I'll need tack as well."

At this, he stopped and turned to her. "Depending on the saddle, that's another two."