A Home That Far

A Home That Far
Chapter 2, The Beginning

The most heinous enemy they have ever known was finally defeated. Duncan; Man-at-Arms; War Master to King Randor of Eternia; lay in his bed finally able to get a good night's rest. But the peace he sought would not be easy this night, like many other ns sis since the final battle.

The fighting was long, lasting nine days. Every Master that he and He-Man had recruited fought gathered together, and though there were many injuries, it was amazing that no one had died. Yet. When last he heard, Stratos, Lord of Avion, still lay unconscious in his bed.

Stratos had saved Teela from a direct blast from Skelator's latest weapon. Though not yet at full power, it sent the pair sailing through the air from their defending posis tos to land hard on the ground, too close to a lava river than he would have liked. Teela suffered a dislocated hip in the fall, but managed to hold her ground, defending her fallen friend. She'd bound Stratos' wounds as best she could, and waited till help could arrive.

He-Man had squared off against Skelator after that, keeping the nearly headless villain from using his weapon at full strength. The Andreenids then arrived, as promised, with a special surprise for Skelator themselves. They brought a specially formulated ambrosia, but rather than having the masters consume the substance, the Andreenids poured it all over their fellow soldiers. Skelator didn't stand a chance.

As the ambrosia enhanced the Masters to unbelievable power and strength, He-Man was able to hold the sorcerer back, while Zodack used his newfound ability to open a stronger portal to the prison that had once held, and now re-imprisoned, the Snake-men. The wave of his power nearly took He-Man into the abysmal prison as well, if it hadn't been for the other Master's holdingo hio him, when they saw him in trouble.

Now the portal closed and sealed for good, Eternia celebrated a lasting peace. It was true that most of Skelator's followers weren't imprisoned with him, but they could be quickly rounded up. Unless they could get their hands on the enhanced ambrosia from the Andreenids, there was no way they could open the prison to freeir eir leader. Only the Masters knew that the enhanced ambrosia was no more.

Fearing that the remaining of Skelator's followers may try to get the substance to free their master, they didn't make much more than what they poured over the Masters in the initial battle. They also destroyed the formula for the enhanced ambrosia, so that no one would be able to recreate it. Eternia was truly going to know peace.

Duncan rolled over in his bed, trying not to think of his frs, as, all bandaged and bruised, or his own daughter, hobbling around on crutches. He himself wasn't unscathed, he bore his own share of bruises, and a bandaged hand. He knew his friends would all recover, and none of them blamed him for their injuries, but such images whardhard to get out of the warrior's mind. He blamed himself for not seeing the warning signs before the battle. Perhaps he could have stopped Skelator.

A panicked knock rattled across his bedroom door. Quickly he got up and unlocked the panel that would allow the heavy slab to gracefully slide sideways, hiding it in a pocket in the wall. "Man-at-Arms, forgive me, you must come quickly. Its old Byron. He's not well at all sir."

"I'll be right there." Quickly he put on his pants, and a simple top, grabbed his housecoat, and put on his slippers. No real need to get completely dressed. It was still late at night after all. The man who'd knocked remaremained in the hall to lead him to his destination. "How bad is he?"

"Very sir. The pneumonia has advd ind in his lungs. We can't keep up with it. His blood pressure has dropped, his heart rate is erratic, and we fear his kidneys may be shutting down."

"Temperature?"

"Through the roof. The Doctor is doing all he can. But he doesn't believe he'll make it through the night. That's when I came for you. I knew you'd want to be there."

"Thank you. I do." Byron had been a dear friend these last 15 years. Early on, Byron saw Man-at-Arms go into battle, and brouhim him home safely. Though now he was too old to go with him, Duncan couldn't see Byron living to his golden years without him. He'd sworn never to abandon his noble friend.

urneurned in the door to where Byron lay, the doctor still at his side. There were intravenous lines leading into Byron's limbs carrying vital fluids and medicine, but Duncan could tell by the sweat on Byron's brown that he wouldn't last much longer. The doctor shook his head to Duncan, confirming the state of his old friend's failing health. Duncan nodded and motioned for everyone to leave him alone with his old friend. Everyone cleared away, leaving a respectful distance as Duncan sat.

"Hey boy," he soothed, brushing some of the old horse's forelock from his eyes. The horse tried to raise his head, to great his dear master. But lay back down in def "E "Easy friend. I'm here. I promised I'd look after you. Didn't I? I know I haven't been around much lately, and for that I'm sorry." He wiped some sweat from the horse's muzzle and face, and maundered the noble horse's head to rest in his lap. "You made sure that you brought me home alive. You even stayed at my side when I was wounded in battle. I never told anyone how you kept the wolves away that night, and neighed loudly when you heard the searchers the next morning. You even taught my daughter how to ride. As big as you are, you were exceedingly gentle, my old friend." The horse turned his head to him, as to agree. They were fond memories in deed.

"I have to tell you something, my friend. The war is over. The battles have been fought. We are safe. Eternia is at peace. Now it is time to rest." For as long as he could remember Byron never did anything without permission. He had to be told he could eat and drink, told that while in the pasture he could relieve himself, and when the younger stallion was introduced to a mare, he had to be told it was alright to do what a stallion had to do. This time was no different. With Duncan at his side, like in so many life and death struggles passed, Byron refused to let go without permission. Byron gave a soft sigh, and blinked one last time, before closing his eyes to the world.

The last few nights were eventful, as hundreds of the typical meteors passed close enough to the planet to create a light show only comparable to fireworks. Though few were large enough to reach into the atmosphere, there were for the first time, several impacts of the cosmic stones. Little did any of the residents of this distant world know, that the descending objects contained anything more than dust and rock.

The Desert is a foreboding place. No shade, no water, endless heat, and sand that both absorbed and reflected the heat back to all who passed over its surface. Far from any trees or vegetation, an odd cylindrical object rested in the sand. A long trail of parted silicate, and glass, serving as evidence of a swift and uncontrolled landing, accompanied with great heat. Broken and no longer functioning, the once protected casing remained where it stopped, its precious cargo left to the merciless sun.

Slowly a loan figure began to stir, pulling herself free of the sand that sifted through the container that once protected her. Blinking back tears of sweat she crawled to the tiny shade of the pod, inspecting herself for any damage, aside from severe sunburn on her back and shoulder. She found then, bits of cloth that fell from her form that had once comprised of her clothes.

"Wonderful," she said aloud. "That's just great. No clothes, no cover, of any kind, and the pod is in the middle of nowhere." She sat back trying to remember what Hank McCoy had tried to drill into them all about waking from suspension. "Don't move too quickly, stay low, or remain in the pod, and don't use your powers for at least a day." She looked around her desolate surroundings. There was no way she could survive in the desert for long. She was too exposed. "Hank is going to kill me," she said. "Well Kale, don't ever let it be said that you didn't listen to instruction. Obey them? Maybe not, but you definitely listened. A camel should do the trick. But first...

"If when you wake and find no one around, and you are with just the pod, go the bottom of the pod and activate the beacon," somehow repeating the instructions given her by Scott, and all the other engineers that worked to build the escape ship, made her more crtabrtable. It didn't give her a chance to panic. "You will also find a scanning system with a five mile radius. You can use this to locate other pods." She dug into the sand near the bottom of the pod, only to discover it was the top. "Wonderful, waste your time. Scott, why didn't you guys put a survival kit in these things rather than just a locator beacon? And while you were at it, an indicator saying 'This End Up' would have been really nice." When she found the pr enr end she needed, she pulled away the cracked casing to access the equipment inside, only to find everything fell out in her hands. "That's just perfect. Now what do I do?"

She looked up to the blue sky, unsure if it were early morning, or late afternoon. Either way, the temperature was getting to her, and what was left of her clothes were quickly falling away.. "I'm leaving," she said at last. "I've got to find water...and the rest of my people." Concentrating she altered her form. Drawing on her ability to become any animal she happened to have touched in her past. Storm had given her the unique ide tre treating each animal like a separate folder. When she needed to become that animal, all she needed to do was use her mind to open the folder the animal's DNA sample was in.

The analogy was unique, a bit odd, Scott had told her, but it worked. Transforming however was painful, more so than usual, but not as bad as when she changed into a dog. Once the change was complete however, the pain subsided, and she was on her way. A new creature was seen striding gracefully across the sand. One that was ideally suited to survive in the desert. She didn't like camels, they smelled, they spat, they were ill tempered, but Logan had a point. Each animal had a purpose, and one never knew when that particular purpose would come in handy. 'I'll never mock you again Logan. You'd better be alive.'

She traveled for several miles, allowing the animal in her to enjoy its freedom. Sometimes she wished she could stay a four-legged animal, they seemed to have more fun. But after a time, the transformed body began to ache, and she needed to be her human self once more. 'Human,' she thou 'T 'That's disgusting. Why would I even consider myself still part of that murderous people.'

She found a stand of trees, surrounded by shrubs, in the middle of the clump was a small pond. But the water level had dropped to the point of just wet sand. She transformed back to her self, pain ripping through her every muscle, but unsure as to the reason. She'd transformed many times, it was indeed an odd feeling, after the first few times, it ceased to hurt. 'Perhaps its because of suspension,' she thought. 'Muscles do tend to atrophy if they aren't exercised enough and suddenly used. It should pass.' The remainder of her clothes were completely gone now. She was grateful that no one else was around. Walking around naked wasn't her idea of a great time.

She dug through the wet sand, piling some of the cool silicate against her body to cool herself. Soon, about a foot or so down, water began to pool.

It was a muddy colour, and full of sand, but it was wet. She dug a bit further to allow more water to gather, she then wove leaves of the surrounding trees together as tightly as possible. Though it wasn't a great work, definitely wouldn't win any basket weaving prizes, but the idea worked. She poured water onto the woven leaves, and cleaner water trickled through to the other sided. Though it still had a dirt colour to it, the larger particles of sand were caught by the leaves, and it made it easier to drink.

When she had her fill she draped the filter over her head to shade her eyes from the sun. She contemplated digging the hole even bigger to then burry her body in the cool water soaked sand, but a large lizard like creature with sharp teeth quickly changed her mind. It waded through the underbrush in front of her, its great eyes searching her out. It hissed at her, opening its great maw, sng hng her that it didn't just have teeth along its jaw line, but several more rows all through its mouth.

Carefully Kale backed away, as the lizard advanced. She'd backed all the way into the trees, before it stoppand and dipped its head into the hole she'd dug. 'Of course,' she thought in relief. 'It came because of the water.' A loud snap of its jaws sent the girl scurrying up a tree, her form quickly changing to that of a capuchin monkey just two hand grips away. The lizard stayed in the pond area, using its great snout to dig the hole deeper for more water. High above the ground she was safe, for the moment.

She took the opportunity to survey the area around the oasis. She found the camel tracks she'd left, she couldn't believe she'd traveled that far. She turned the other way, as a new scent greeted her enhanced scenes. Trees, and lots of them, she could smell water too. But she couldn't see it. There was a forest near by. She was sure of it. Question was could she get to it. She'd touched many animals over the years, absorbed the DNA of many, but none of birds. She couldn't change into anything smaller than the capuchin monkey. The pain was just too much to try and compress her form that much further. And she'd never had the opportunity to touch birds of larger sizes. She'd have to make it on foot, or rather, feet.

She leapt to the next tree, following the strongest scent to the opposite side of the oasis. She saw the lizard's ts les leading along the massive dune's bottom edge. She looked again to where the lizard was still busy digging, then descended to the ground. She turned to her normal form as quietly as possible, then to that of the camel once again, and continued on her way.

Climbing the dune was difficult. The sand shifted with each step, and she slid back down more than she went up. Camel's feet were naturally designed to spread out over the surface of sand, but what she needed to do was dig in. She couldn't change to her normal form, she'd only fall, and she'd neverngednged from one animal to another without doing so. She had to take the chance. She concentrated on what she had to do. Her body would need to change, her legs, her feet, everything, and it all had to be done in strides.

If someone were to watch, the sight would have made them ill. The camel's shape became hideously distorted, it was becoming sleeker, heavier in a way. The body changed as the distorted half beast writhed in the sand, as with each step a new creature tried to step forward, the desert giant sliding more and more to the bottom of the dune.

The changes nearly complete, her strategy working, she could see the top, she could do this. She pushed off with her haunches, finding new strength in them, she dug in with her front feet, finding more secure footing beneath the shifting sands. The wind wiped at her face as she neared the crest, she could smell the lush forest on the other side. The sand splashed with each step she took, till finally a great white streak bolted to the top.

There she stood, triumphant of her journey, looking down to the rich land before her. The wind wiped through the flowing mane down her neck, the long tail sailed on the breeze behind her. She snorted, not really dignified, but it cleared the sand from her nose. She loved this form most of all.
oughough she couldn't ride worth a hill of beans; she'd told McCoy once; she did love to be the horse. He'd nodded, and often found great amusement in watching Kale play in the pasture with the other horses. As well as tease Logan when it was his turn to clean out the stalls. But she'd never been a white horse. The colour of the animals' coats or skin often had a hint of brown in it, the same colour as her own brown hair. For some reason though, her coat, her mane and tail, were as white as snow.

She'd figure it out later. Her stomach was making noises, and as a horse, she could eat whatever the animal could eat. All she needed to be sure of was that she had plenty of water. She carefully placed her feet down the slope, finding secure footing for her decent. The dune was shorter on this side, the slope not as steep. Then again, those were the characteristics of a dune.

When clear of the hill, she quickened her pace, and ran to the tree line. Carefully she chose her entry point, listening, and smelling for anything that may be a predator. She potted a small pasture of green through some of the smaller trees, and dashed inside. It was cooler here, and the grass smelled very sweet. She took a few blades into her teeth, to test them, just to be sure. The horse in her relished the taste, she then busied herself with eating. She'd find her friends. She knew she would. But she wouldn't be any good to them half starved.

It had been three days since she'd arrived in the forestlands. There were still no signs of her people, nor were there any pods. She was standing in the middle of a gently flowing river, up to her chest in water. She'd run a long way, and though it wasn't right for her to be in the cold water, the feel of the river on her sore legs couldn't drive her away.

The river wound its way through a valley, rich with grass and small stands of trees. It stretched around her for several hundred meters, but dropped off to the east at a canyon twelve feet across. On the other side were mountains, and she could hear the strange calls of birds. More than that, she could hear the rumbling of thunder in the direction of the mountains, but nary a cloud in the sky. Some instinct in the horse told her not to venture that way. It was dangerous. She didn't often listen to the animal instincts in her transformed shapes, they sometimes lead her into trouble. In this new world however, she needed her wits about her, she needed all the advantages she could get, and that included her animal instincts.

On the first day she'd ventured in this land, she thought that maybe the ship had made it off the ground, only to orbit for generations around the solar system, to return to land on Earth when it was safe. But the first night cleared her mind of any fears like that. In the night sky she didn't recognize a single constellation, and Earth certainly didn't have a planet with rings around it that you could see in the sky as plain as the moon. No Earth was a long way off. She and her people were safe. Question was. Why did the ship drop all the suspension pods? Why where her people scattered all over the world? And most importantly, where had Lilandra's people sent them?

She dipped her nose to the water once more, drinking in the crisp liquid. She was thirsty, very thirsty, but she knew that if she drank too much of the cold water she would become sick with colic, or worse.

She snapped her ears forward at the sound of approaching thunder, she raised her head higher to look to the sky. Again there were no clouds. The thunder grew louder, and she could feel a vibration in the water and ground. She turned her head in the direction of the strongest sound. There, bursting from the trees was the largest herd of horses she'd ever encountered. There were tri colours, two tones, bays, and brindles, young ones, adults, and adolescents. Leading them all to the edge of the river was the grandest of all horses. A large cinnamon coloured stallion.

The herd slowed to a stop, knowing that the lead stallion would determine if this new horse were a threat to his mares and young. The stallion neighed possessively, then lifted his nose to the air, his temper seemed to ease as he caught the sent of another mare. He signalled his herd to drink, and he trotted along the bank of the river, neighing and dancing on his front legs to coax the shy mare from the water.

'He can't be serious?' she thought, fighting an urge to go up to him.

The stallion pranced, and reared, snorting with impatients. How dare this mare deny him, how dare she disobey his authority. Quickly he leapt into the water and trotted up to her. The dark brown of the stallion's colour was made more striking against the white mare's hyde. He came up to her shoulder on the far side, trying to herd her with the rest.

Kale became irritated, and bared her teeth. 'GET AWAY!' The stallion pai att attention, he bared his own teeth and pushed against her hind quarters. He didn't bite, but the feel of his sharp edged teeth made it perfectly clear he meant business. Well so did Kale. The mare suddenly neighed harshly at the stallion, lunging at him with her front legs, kicking with strong bucks of her hind hooves. When the stallion backed off a bit, she bolted for the riverbank, and leapt ashore.

The horses scattered as the stallion followed, eager to bring the mare into the fold of his harem. She bucked at him again, and the stallion kept clear, when she stood still looking for a way to get out of the herd, he bit at her haunches. That hurt. She lunged around, striking out with her front feet. That was it. It was war. The stallion wouldn't stand for a mare that didn't know her place. Quickly he ran at her side, brandishing all of his weight into her shoulder. She rose on her back legs, he did the same, he grabbed the crown of her neck with his teeth, she wrenched free; she kicked, he dodged, he bit, she bled.

Suddenly the other horses started squealing, and running in all directions. From the opposite side of the river several flight vehicles sailed through the air, each had three people on them. One to pilot, the other's to do what they came to do. Nets flew out and covered several yearlings. Heavy weights along the edges kept them from freeing themselves, the heavy gauge lines tangling their feet.

Suddenly there were smaller vehicles flying in, each with a single pilot. They started herding the horses in circles, firing paint darts onto the backs of various horses. She got hit twice with a bright green colour before she realized that ttalltallion had left her alone.

"The white one!!" she heard a pilot yell to his colleges. "Don't loose the white one!!!"

It only took a second for her to realize just which white one they were talking about. 'ME!' Kale bolted away from the pandemonium heading for the trees. Suddenly bright bolts of red fire hit the ground in front of her. She was scared. She veered away from the trees and headed for the river. Again bolts of fire hit the ground. She veered off again only to get caught up in the herded horses, running in fear in the opposite direction.

Kale had trouble keeping control of her thoughts and feelings. Her human self was afraid, but trying to think of away out, while her horse side was terrified for its life, and wanted to flee. She found herself at the edge of the herd closest to the river, she took the opportunity to leap to the passage, and clear to the other side. There wasn't anywhere to go over here, it was all open for several hundred yards. The only place to hide on this side was the mountains, separated by the gorge.

'Of course!' she thought. 'Leap the gorge, and run into the hills. They'll have trouble getting you there.' She found the stallion running beside her, leading several of his other mares with him. She needed to get as much speed as possible to clear the twelve-foot passage. A simple canter wouldn't do it. She put all she had into running, the stallion and mares falling farther and farther behind. She could hear the flying crafts behind her, but she needed to make it to the jump point.

The pilot levelled his net gun, preparing to fire. "NO!" the pilot yelled. "You'll kill her. Use the stun gun!"

'Nearly there,' she thought, beginning to count out the paces. 'Just a few more strides.' She felt a searing pain through her left shoulder, and a bright flash blinded her left eye for a moment, as she stumbled to the ground.

The men on the machines let out a cheer as the white mare hit the ground. They knew she'd bare some injuries, but they had their prize.

She wasn't sure how long she was out. When she woke, she was laying in a stall, surrounded by wood chips. To her amazement, she was still in her horse form, which was very odd. Before whenever she was knocked out, she reverted to her normal self. This was not normal.

Her left shoulder hurt, but not as much as the rest of her. Every muscle in her body was on fire. Whatever happened it had stopped her before she could walk herself cool. She raised her head, and lightning pain shot through her neck and head. She groaned and lay back down heavy with agony, even to lay back down.

"E'garo! The mare!" The voice was louder than some of the heavy metal music that some of the teenagers blasted through the mansion. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. That's when she got an idea. What better way to draw someone off balance that to draw concern from one of her captors. They obviously wanted her in good health. She could use that.

Three men entered the stall and checked over her wounds. "Ah, she'll make it," said one man with long blond hair trailing from just a small spot on the very top of his head. It reminded her of a horse's tail.

"I don't know sir. She hit the ground at the fastest gallop I've ever seen. I think she's even faster than Randor's prized stallion."

"Well that's why I bought her from Galous. He never saw her run. Can you imagine the price we'd get for her as race horse?"

'They're gona sell me!'

"Come on. Help me get her on her feet." The three men came around her far side, bending low and getting their hands under her side, as close to her shoulder and haunches as they dared. "If she stays down much longer, she wont want to get up. She'll die on me."

"What if she bolts?" asked a young boy from the other side of the stall wall.

"She wont. She'll want to recover first. Come Pus Push her up. On three. One - two - three!" With each count they matheythey pressed all their weight into Kale's off side, urging her to get to her feet.

Everything told her to stay put, but even her human side wanted to get to her feet. Pain shot through her body as she moved her legs under her bulk, her legs ached as she pushed herself upwards. She staggered several times before finding her balance, but to put her plan to work she needed to draw them closer. She pulled up her hind foot, making like her leg was badly hurt. She limped on her three legs just to gain their belief in her rosé.

"Ah crud!" cried the boy, grabbing a bucked with supplies in it and stepping up to the man with the horsetail for a hairstyle. "How bad do you think it is?"

"Can't bee too bad," the man answered. "There's no swelling, yet. There's no wounds near her foot. Could just be soft tissue damage. I'll need to feel down the leg to find out."

'Yes. That's right. To do that, you need to get in close.'

"Careful father," urged the boy. "Her ears get any flatter, they'll shrink right into her head."

The man pondered that, then motioned for the boy to leave the stall. "You two get on either side of her head with those ropes. Try to keep her still."

"You got it E'garo." She allowed the two men to put the ropes over her head and around her neck. She made no try to bite them. They then held close to her neck so it wouldn't be easy for her to reach them with her teeth.

Carefully, the one called E'garo made his way to her supposedly injured leg. She looked once more to the open stall door, and the boy on the opposite side of the barn hall, busying himself filling water buckets. She felt the man's hand on her upper leg. Strong and hard. Then she let her plan loose.

She bucked hard, her raised foot catching the man in his chest, sending him crashing into the stall wall behind her. She then reared as high as the ceiling would allow, pulling the two others off balance. Then she bolted out the stall door, leaving the two men behind, being pulled off along the stall door jam.

The boy was smart. He flattened himself along the wall to avoid her as she veered out of the stall. She ran as fast as she could to the exit. But a door slid solidly closed before she could reach it. Quickly she recoiled, as men tried to grab the ropes at her neck. She bolted again, the concrete floor not giving her much traction. The men from the stall lined up in front of her creating a human wall. There was no room to jump, no room to turn, and not enough distance to stop. But who was stopping. She went against everything a horse would normally not do, and bolted straight through their line. The men fell quickly as she passed, not a one risking injury from her feet.

She saw a smaller door at the other end, normal human size. She'd have to slow down to get through it without bumping the jam. Before she could get to it though, the door slammed shut from the outside.

E'garo laughed as the white mare spun around in the hall, trying to escape. But there was nowhere to go. The other horses in the stalls around her, paced nervously at her actions, their excitement building with the events in the hall. E'garo pulled an arm length of leather from hise, giviniving it a flip to reveal a longer piece wrapped aroit. it. 'Oh no,' Kale thought, kicking her feet in his direction. 'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.'

E'garo reached back and flung the whip with all his might. The whip itself never reached her, but whatever the white light was that flew from the end did, and it left a sharp burn across her right shoulder. With all the other pain of her capture, she almost didn't feel it. She reared up high, throwing her feet in his direction, warning him back. He just gave another flick of the whip, this time close enough to have the end thrash against her face. She felt a trickle run down from above her eye, when it reached her nostril she knew it was blood.

Something in her then snapped. She lunged at him with all her force, neighing and practically barking at him. "FATHER!!!" the boy screamed, sliding a wand across the floor. She tried to stomp on it, but missed. He pressed the end of the wand to her underside. She knew then the feeling of a cattle prod. The sting of it thr through her body, she could feel her lungs compress.

She staggered sideways, but didn't back down. Again he lashed his whip, and jabbed the cattle prod to her tender underbelly, just before her hind legs. She squealed, and bucked, but he kept coming. "Are the rails up now?" he called.

"Yes sir. You're clear."

"Good. Open the main door. Let her run herself out." The large door at the end opened at last. Kale needed no prodding, she bolted for the exit, sending men dashing into empty stalls and over rails ash she went.

The rails were higher than her head, so she couldn't jump. All she could do was follow their path, hoping for a break. But none came, and she soon found herself in a large round exercise pen, with only one exit. Back the way she came. Even that became blocked as E'garo ran to the middle of the ring, whip, and cattle prod in hand. Several other men lined the top of the rails, each with ropes over their shoulders. Suddenly she realized they were taking bets on the events in the ring.

"I bet five she wont last ten minutes."

"I bet twenty, and she'll go twenty minutes. She's pissed big time."

She circled the pen, as E'garo whipped her left side. She balked at the rails, rearing up on them, forcing her full weight on them, trying to break them free. But it was no good. One of the men above slapped his rope in her face, forcing her back to face E'garo. 'So be it,' she thought. 'I'll kill him.'

Duncan had been to all the local markets looking for a horse. Though he'd seen many fine animals, there still wasn't one that met his liking. Resolved to look another day, he decided to complete the errand his king had asked of him. E'garo Marvosa, of Therondale, had reported to Randor that they had a trio of young fillies he'd be interested in. Because of his duties, Randor could not go, but Duncan and he had shopped for horses many times together, and Randor trusted his old friend to know what to look for. Randor wanted a good mare to breed to his prized stallion. The stallion just happen to be the last of old Byron's colts. Duncan had given the colt to his king as a gift for his birthday, six years prior, after his old horse had passed away some months before. The colt was well trained, and had a spirit that rivalled his Sire's. The colt would make his king a fine mount, and he was right. Byron would have been proud.

Now mature, and proven fertile, Randor wanted to be sure that the mare he was bred to was of excellent quality. So he'd sent word to all the breeders and wranglers in the kingdom, that he sought a fine mare for breeding purposes. Everyone fell all over themselves, and each other, to bring the king's business to their stable.

Duncan landed the cargo craft in a distant field as not to frighten the still wild horses that were rounded up near the training centre. He walked slowly, looking over the new arrivals carefully, to see if there were any he desired. A large Cinnamon coloured stallion caught his eye. He was big, at least 16 ½ hands high at his withers. He had strong hindquarters, a broad chest, and strong neck. His legs looked thick, strong for his size, which was good. The mane had been trimmed short and his coat still bore the red coloured paint marks, the wrangler used to mark the wild horses he wanted. Duncan made up his mind. He'd buy that horse.

He made his way inside, and met up with E'garo's young son, E'krin, he believed he was called. He told the boy he was interested in the stallion in the pasture, and the boy entered his request on a sheet of paper on the main desk. "Where's your father?"

"Oh, he's in the back," the boy answered. "He's working a horse."

"Oh. I wont rush him then. He said he had some mares for the king. I'd like to take a look."

"Of course. This way." The boy led the Master through the barn and out the far side. "We're expecting a load of horses to be shipped out today. So our barn is so full, we've had to keep the fillies here in one of the paddocks. Hope you don't mind. It's a bit muddy."

"That's fine. I'm sure I'll manage." He turned in the direction of a horse's loud cry. "Sounds like a fight."

"No. Its just the horse father's working. It's got a lot of spirit."

"I see. How are these ones? Is it safe to go in?"

"Yes sir. They're green broke, but you can still handle them."

Duncan stepped through the rails and patted the head of one of the mares that bowed to inspect him. Slowly he ran his hands over her coat, down her legs, and over her chest. She stood still enough for that. He then ran his had over her back, noting the glean in her black coat. She shone like polished onyx, her foals would be nice by Byron's son. He inspected her hindquarters and legs, and came up her other side. She seemed in good enough shape, but he wanted to see her move first.

He repeated the same procedure on the other two mares, each giving him the same docile responses. When he stepped back through the rails he reached in his pocket and pulled out some carrot cubes. He gave each horse a piece, and then turned to the boy.

Before Duncan could say a word, the commotion at the back training ring came to a new fevered height. He heard a loud crash, and men leapt down form their perches on the top most rails, to disappear in the ring hidden in the hollow. There were shouts, and neighs, and the sound of panicked hooves along the concrete. From around the side of one of the smaller barns a blood soaked horse came running, dragging three men on ropes by her neck.

Duncan pushed the boy inside the barn and closed the door. There was nowhere for the frightened mare to run now. She reared again, backing away from the men that started to pull on the ropes once more. "What in Eternia are you doing to her!!?" Duncan demanded.

"Stay out of this!" shouted one of the men. "Its not your place to interfere!" The horse reared again, choking as the ropes were pulled tighter by more men assisting their colleges.

A familiar figure thread his way through the crowd, a whip in one hand, a blood soaked neck band in the other. E'garo's trademark hair tail was gone, just a few wisps of hair were left. "I don't care how fast you run! I kill you!!!" He triggered a button on his whip, and sent the end flying to the mare's head.

Suddenly a shielded arm came before him, taking the brunt of the whip's energy. The horse staggered and fell, its legs flailing, as the beast could not take a breath. The men pulled even tighter, threatening to drag her across the concrete by her neck.

Duncan at once braced his knees against the horse's neck, keeping her down. A quick slice of his laser knife, tore the choking ropes from her throat. Before anyone could say or do anything, Duncan lashed a white bracelet around the horse's left foreleg, just above her hoof. E'garo glared at him, as his son emerged from the barn with bandages. Duncan pulled a first aid kit from his belt, found a syringe, and beckoned the boy to him. "Go inside and get me the sedation kit." The boy nodded.

No one dared go near Duncan, his expression was furious. He looked down to the mare, and pushed her forelock aside. She had sand in her eyes, and blood covered her once white coat. Her breathing was haggard and rough, the ropes had nearly killed her. It made him sick inside that he was even here, but in a way, he was glad. He'd claimed the mare for himself, his intent to purchase band securely on her leg, a band that only he had the key to remove.

The boy returned and handed the kit to the Master. Duncan found the bottle of sedative, and drew off a heavy dose. Carefully he injected the substance into the mare, stroking her neck where he'd stuck the needle. Quickly the drug took hold, and the mare's breathing slowed to a reasonable slumber. Duncan tossed the kit to one of the workers, and Duncan tossed a bag of coins to E'garo. "Its more than you deserve for her," he said coldly. "I want her loaded carefully. Take my name, AND the king's, off your books. I doubt that after the investigation, you will be in business for very long." He stepped up to E'garo, his chiselled face, as cold as ice, his words like shards broken from the great Eternian Glaciers. "I intend to shut you down."

"Come on Teela, one more time, then we're finished for today."

"Ok," replied the young woman. She hated her therapy. Why they wouldn't let her exercise on her own she couldn't say. But having some healer's apprentice push against her recovering leg, while she tried to push the weight the other way, wasn't a whole lot of fun. And painful? Oh did it hurt! "Are you sure this is legal?" she asked, gritting her teeth.

"Quite sure. Come on, five more seconds."

"OH!!! I'm gona ring your neck, you say that one more time!"

"And, stop. Good. Your leg's getting stronger."

Teela dropped back against the equipment she sat on. "I hope so. I'm not sure how much more of this I can stand."

"I've got something for you."

"Not more weights?"

"No. Here." The man tossed her a cane. "You can loose the crutches, but you still need some support."

"I'm not using a cane."

"Captain Teela, its only for a couple more weeks."

"No cane!" The man crossed his arms over his broad chest, narrowing his sky blue eyes at her. She hated that look. He caught her once, a couple weeks prior, ditching her crutches to work out. He had several medical staff strap her to her bed for three days. He promised it would be longer if she didn't follow his regiment for her recovery. She hated to admit it though, and she never would out loud, but she liked his eyes.

The familiar sound of one of the palace's cargo crafts, drew her attention, as it passed overhead. "Father's returned. I wonder if he found a horse."

"Captain Teela..." She was about to just get up and leave, but the man's warning tone made her think twice. She took the cane and limped out the door.

Eventually she made her way to the stables. There she stood to one side as the barn hands scurried around. Several carried buckets of warm water into the barn, while others hurriedly went into the craft with what looked like an antigravity cargo sled. 'Why would they need that?' she asked herself. Then she heard her father's voice inside the craft. She tried to get closer, but the hurrying staff around the vessel kept her at bay.

Soon her father emerged, a strained look of worry, and anger etched into his face. "Careful with her," he said to the staff inside, he then backed away to give the workers more room.

"I wonder what he looks like?" said a familiar voice. Teela turned to face their king.

"Your highness. Hello. I'm not sure, but I don't think father got a stallion this time. He said, 'Her.' I suspect that a mare caught his eye this time."

"Well, perhaps its one of the fillies that E'garo sent me word about."

"Your majesty," Duncan greeted, bowing to his old friend. "I strongly urge you NOT to purchase any more horses from E'garo. I'm bringing formal charges of animal cruelty against him and his staff. I intend to shut him down."

"Why Duncan? What happened?" It was Teela who saw the reason, her breath taken quick drew the king's attention to the horse being unloaded, though not by leading it in any way. "By the elders!" Randor cursed, stepping up to help the men with the sled. "What happened? Why did they do this?" Duncan took his king's arm to allow the barn workers to do their job, and guided him to the side to explain.

"They nearly killed her before my very eyes, your majesty. Now that I've seen what kind of knowledge E'garo's father had passed to his son, makes Byron's obedient behaviour more clear. They tortured him, and they were about to do the same to her, if I hadn't stepped in."

"Will the mare live?"

"I don't know. She's lost a lot of blood, and she's taken several hits from a plasma whip, that and the way they round them up? I just can't say."

"Sir, we're putting her in her stall. The water is ready."

"Good. If you'll excuse me your majesty, I need to tend to her."

"We'll help you," Randor urged, and walked Teela into the barn.

The stall was lined thickly with straw, the mare had been placed in the middle. The barn staff were floating the cargo sled over the stall wall, when Duncan and the others arrived. Along the inside wall, hung several black buckets, each filled with warm water. Diluted in the water was an antiseptic, normally used to clean abrasions and cuts on the animals. Though never used for injuries this extensive, it would have to do until the Vet arrived from the outer farms.

Teela settled herself in the straw along the horses back, careful not to brush the cuts with her knees or cane. Randor set a bucket next to her, and she carefully set to work. Duncan washed the blood and sand from the mare's face, knowing that when she woke, he would be the first one she'd smell. Hopefully she wouldn't go after him, as he tried to help her. Randor eased the water over the mare's belly, washing away the blood and straw. He found burn marks about the size of his hand, and carefully applied a save to them as he went.

It took hours to clean and dress the horse's wounds. Some even had to be cauterized to keep them closed. Duncan only hoped that there wasn't any permanent physical damage. The barn hands helped to roll the mare over, so that they could continue the procedure on the other side of her body. Once finished, Duncan removed the white bracelet from the front leg, and snapped into place a gold one, and gave it a confident tug to be sure it was secure. She was safe now. No one would dare touch her as long as she wore Duncan's Owner's Ring around her leg. Since each ring was made with a specific key to match, there was no way that any one could remove it. After all, he designed them.

The barn staff erected the bars around the stall, closing it in completely. Knowing she wasn't trained, she'd be dangerous to the staff, and other horses, untill she was tamed.

The vet arrived in a hurry, inquiring about the cryptic urgent message Duncan had left on his message machine. Duncan said nothing but looked into the stall. The vet wasted no time, when he saw the animal laid out on the floor, and set to work examining her vitals, and then the treatment of her wounds.

Duncan told of the sedative he'd given the mare, and why he'd taken an animal near death. The vet nodded and injected a strong antibiotic to help ward off any infection. After his examination he ordered the stall be surrounded with the panels used in the brood mare stalls, to give her complete privacy while she healed. He then turned to Duncan, to give him his report. "You did the right thing," he stated. "She should have no trouble recovering from those wounds. The cauterizing was good. There should be minimal scaring if we're lucky. But I'm not sure about her eyes."

"What do you mean?"

"You say she had sand in them?" Duncan nodded. "Well, the outer layer of her corneas are scared, like a cataract, she may need surgery later on to remove the damaged tissue, if it gives her any problems. I've put some ointment in her eyes, which should minimize the scar tissue, but I want to take another look in about two weeks to be sure."

"I'll do what I can in that time."

"She'll be difficult. If they hadn't managed to break her yet," the term sent a new pain through Duncan's heart. "than you may need to start from scratch. Which wont be easy considering the way she's been treated."

"I'll manage."

"I know you will. In the mean time, slip one of these pills into her feed twice a day, they'll help fight infection. Give her quiet for a couple days, lots of food, water, and rest. Then ease her into getting to know you. You've a huge barrier to cross with her. I wish you luck."

"Doctor?" The pair turned to Teela. "What if she doesn't get up? What should we do then?"

"Call me, before you do anything. I'll come right away."

Duncan watched as the panels were lashed to the bars around the mare's stall. Normally these sheets of wood were lashed to stalls where a mare could have privacy to give birth. But sometimes, like now, they were used for training purposes. At least this way, the now white mare wouldn't be frightened of the things that go on around her. She'd feel safe inside her stall. The weather was warm so she wouldn't be chilled with her coat still wet from the water, there was no need to worry about blankets.

Duncan shook his head. How could he have been so blind? If he had only questioned the scars on his last horse's body when first he noticed them, he may had been able to put a stop to this. What was done was done, one could not dwell on the past, and the mare was safe that was all that mattered.

"Have you thought ofame ame yet, Duncan?" Randor asked, pulling his friend from his brooding.

"Uh, no. I thought I'd wait, to see what she's like. Have her name suit her personality."

"Sounds good to me. Come. Marlaina is setting the scene for a wonderful banquet tonight. Maybe you can figure out why."