ering and applauding as the two of them came into view. The man wheeled his horse around; the mighty and beautiful stallion pranced in a circle, throwing its hea

smounted his horse proudly, striding towards one of the men

said as he embra

st?' Farrell asked Brice, p

ded towards the stallion en

ren playing with firecrackers, jumping around and making all sorts of noise. But he

ained' Brice replie

horse' Farrell cont

chestnut or grey, or bearing more than one colour or shade. The king and the royal family were the only ones in the kingdom to own pure white horses, these were very rare. Jet black horses o

e me and become the highest ranking soldier in the kingdom, and from this small town where nothing of interes

yself.' His eyes passed over the faces of the many men within the small to

l asked his elder brother, r

admitted, 'but I kn

arrell droned, ra

o brothers voice

n silver. The smooth walls either side of them were of blank stone, greys and blacks in colour. And as they reached the end of the corridor at last, before them stood a tall, magnificent stained glass window which depicted a female figur

ayed. The brothers entered through one of the archways, and into a massive circular hall. A great fire, forever burning was lit behind the stained glass, lighting up the image of the goddess to be admired by those who entered. The temple in

place. He nodded respectfully to a small group of women, wearing white dresses lined in light blue

e complained, squinting as if the s

ll pointed as he sp

e and there around the statues of their deities, were little red cushions and stools meant for praying. Their middle brother Arlen, was on his knees upon one of these cushions, head bowed. He prayed before the statue of the god Faeroe. A god in the shape of a

brother. Farrell cleared his throat o

en spoke, knowing instinctively that both his