Yes, a rare breed, Tros horses, and she meant to have one.
“Get Gestus and make for Land’s End as quick as you can. Have everything ready at the family stables when I arrive. Have Walegrin and Rashan there, too.”
“But, mistress,” Dismas protested. “The vampire and the Riddler-you may need our help.”
Chenaya shook her head sternly. “I can handle them. Do as you’re told and have everything ready. Discreetly, too. I don’t want my father to know anything about this.” She smacked his chest with the flat of her hand and gave him a little shove. “Go!”
She watched as he faded back into the night, then leaned back in the shadows and drew a slow breath. With her friends gone she could safely get on with her little prank. It would have been an insult to two good men if she had explained why she sent them on. But she knew Tempus Thales, and she knew the stories about
Ischade. If anything went wrong with her plan she didn’t want her men to pay the price.
Chenaya took the bag of krrf and sugar from her belt, loosened the strings that held it shut, and moved toward the dark house. The Tros horse, she suspected, had been trained to recognize warriors. She would have trained it to do so, and she expected no less of Tempus. But she was a woman and had left her weapons at home this night. Reyk was weapon enough-and her god-spawned luck.
She approached the beast slowly, mumbling soft words. The Tros eyed her with suspicion and snorted once. It kept still, though, and that encouraged her. She reached into the bag and extracted a handful of powder. Holding her breath with excitement, she took the final step that brought her within reach of the horse.