* * *
"Too much you look at bone and muscle," Vertook said as Brunson stood from his examination of the weanling. "Look at eyes. Look at heart. Look at soul. There you see true measure of horse."
Trying not to offend Vertook, Brunson did as he said and was surprised by what he saw. Staring into the eyes of one weanling, he saw fear. In another, rebellion and pride. Off in a corner, though, was a weak-looking filly with short legs. Until then, Brunson had ignored the filly, figuring she was unsuitable for someone his size, but when he looked in her eyes, he saw love and loyalty and a yearning for someone to return those feelings. As he approached her, she trembled not with fear, but with what seemed like anticipation. Running his hands gently over her coat, she leaned into him.
"Now you see, yes?" Vertook asked.
"I think I do," Brunson said, surprised by his own heart's reaction to the filly. When Vertook had come to him, boasting of the Arghast way, Brunson had been skeptical, believing that his ways were the only ways to properly raise animals. Now he began to wonder if he'd been blind, for much of what Vertook said seemed to be true. Swallowing his pride, Brunson vowed to learn what he could from this stranger, and he felt a new journey was about to begin.
He watched with anticipation as Vertook approached each weanling, looking at their eyes only. When he settled on the colt that had seemed prideful and rebellious, Brunson failed to hide his surprise.
"Like me, this one is: stubborn but strong, willful and defiant. Farhallian is his name. What is filly's name?"
"I hadn't thought of a name yet. I suppose I'll have to think of something suitable."
"Think? No. She tell you her name. Look in eyes and ask; then you know."
Not certain Vertook was serious, Brunson knelt down before the filly, wondering if he were being made to look a fool. When he met her eyes and asked her name, though, he was shocked to have something immediately pop into his mind, and he knew it was right. It was not simply a name for the filly, it was her name: Shasheenia.
Vertook nodded and smiled when Brunson spoke the name. His voice an awe-filled whisper, he repeated it over and over, feeling its rightness.
Shasheenia.
Chapter 10
The stench of fear can be cleansed only by eliminating its source.
--Datmar Kahn, assassin
Inherited Danger Page 23