“I didn’t understand. I’d gotten permission to take the foal. Frey would have died if I hadn’t rescued him. But, I knew how little power I had in the village. I couldn’t stand up to a wealthy rancher. So, I did a lot of begging and, finally, because of Mr. Henderson’s wife, who I think took pity on me, it was agreed that I could work for the two of them to earn the sale price of my stallion.
“I worked for over a year prepping, seeding, watering, and weeding the vegetable garden they have in their backyard. At the end of that year, Mr. Henderson wrote out the deed of sale you have in your hand so that no one could ever say that Frey wasn’t mine. But, unfortunately, even that legal document hasn’t kept people from telling me that I didn’t deserve a stallion like Frey.”
I suppose I sounded bitter, but deservedly so. I had done everything right, and yet, my reward always seemed to be another kick in the teeth. I missed Old Mother’s ready quotations for life’s travails. I missed her friendship and kindness.
When the judge allowed me to go back to my seat, I felt limp as an old stalk of celery. I slid into the seat and could barely hold my back straight. I felt the urge to slide down to the floor and curl up for a good nap.
Of course, I didn’t. There was too much at stake. I sent another prayer to Gaia and sorted through the sayings of Old Mother. Surely she would have given me something to cling to. Why couldn’t I remember one that dealt with deceit and the wavering lines of Fate?
Mrs. Swenson received the judge’s warmth and a friendly smile. He praised her faith in me and said he hoped that the karma she deserved would come to her. He was more matter of fact with the apothecary, only wanting confirmation as to the facts I’d presented.
He dismissed those two, then called for Mr. Henderson. “Do you agree with Shama’s statements?” the judge asked.
It amazed me to see the judge’s indrawn cheeks, the clenched fists, and an additional tell, a tic in the corner of his left eye.