“We all wore black silk Tang-style robes, modified with slits up the sides over the riding trousers beneath, and with armour over the top. The Tiger and his grooms brought us each a black horse: a small, light-boned Arab mare each for me and Simone, and a big, heavyset, warm-blood stallion for John. All of the horses had been saddled and bridled with antique carved leather tack, black and highlighted with silver fittings. The Tiger held Simone’s horse while she mounted. ‘If they give you any gri...ef at all, send me a telepathic message,’ he said. ‘Even the best-trained horses will baulk at some of the rigmarole that’s happening at the Palace. The stallion should behave, he’s a warhorse, but you never know.’ John stood next to her horse and reached towards the Tiger. ‘Lend me a hand, brother.’ The Tiger strode to John, they clasped hands, and both of them dropped their heads slightly. A glowing nimbus of shen energy surrounded them, then disappeared into John. ‘Enough?’ the Tiger said.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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