By Robert Adams
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Extra info for A Woman of the Horseclans: A Horseclans Novel
Had he been in their places, he would have “fainted” long since, but, alas, the Patriarchs had to, were expected to, set an example, and Solomon Claxton took his status in the Abode of the Righteous very seriously, as befitted the Elders chosen successor. “Not that Pa is right all of the time,” Solomon thought to himself, trying hard to get his mind off the aches and pains and itches just now tormenting him. “Pa’s dead wrong right often. More wrong about things in recent yeast than when I was a boy and a young man.
Solomon was reading this night from the Book of Judges, his thick lips shaping out each word painfully as his horny finger drew his eyes to it. But the prematurely gray farmer had barely commenced when one of the section leaders of the first shift, Ehud Manchester, strode hurriedly into the long, narrow room. They two were about of an age and were friends of long years standing. “Sol,” said Ehud without preamble. “it’s suthin goldurned funny goin on downstairs. Hear them dogs, don’tcha? ” The thought flitted through Solomon Claxton’s mind that for all that a man could not have a better man beside him when he chanced to be fighting off godless, heathen nomad raiders or a pack of starveling winter wolves, Patriarch Manchester’s son, Ehud, was at times somewhat slow of wits.
Many men still living, men who sit now amongst you, saw with their own two eyes how she was borne off, sitting before a mounted demon, his arm most lovingly enfolding her, and her smiling up at him! Can ye then doubt that Satan walketh still across this once-cleansed world? Canst doubt that full many a girl who dwelleth amongst us, the Holy, Chosen flock of the Lord. harboreth the pure essence of ancient Evil, that . ” “Pa can call them demons if he wants to,” mused Solomon Claxton, “but they were nothing but another batch of those savage, murdering, thieving horse-nomads come in from the plains out there to do whatall they have allus done best — kill, steal, burn, lift stock — that’s all it was.