3/5/2009
14
L’Orage
Her
muscles rippled like silk under her black coat, and Paul touched
her gently to soothe her. l’Orage had been his steed for
nearly three years, almost half the time he had been in Tunisia.
He had
bought her from a Berber’s market on the coast. She was
the most beautiful horse he had ever seen. Feral and full of fire,
she was uncontrollable in the hands of her merchant owners and
stood blindfolded and hobbled in the market horse pen. A demon
in the guise of a horse, she was black as charcoal without a
trace of lighter markings. Paul knew she was stolen the minute his
eyes lit upon her.