Chapter 4

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It was almost light when they reached home. They had been riding all night and Zena almost fell off her horse as they reached her small cabin. It was in the centre of a small glade surrounded by a forest full of huge trees almost all of them over one thousand years old. Zena smiled at the wooden house she had built for herself. "If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself." she said absentmindedly to Almata. He snorted. That's right. Otherwise they don't give you enough apples when they feed you.Zena laughed and led him round the back of the house, where she took off his saddle and bridle and opened the stable door. "The door's open" she called to Almata who had wandered off to find some grass to eat "Come in when you want to." She walked round to the front of the house and went in."It's not much but it's home." She smiled at herself. "Got to stop talking to myself."
She set about lighting a fire.When it was nicely crackling away she set a stew on to simmer. After half an hour she ladled some into a bowl and took it outside to eat on the porch.Almata came trotting round looking expectantly at Zena. She tried to remain straight faced but the horses pricked ears and indignant face was to big a challenge and she burst out laughing. She threw him an apple, which he immediately crunched up, then looked at her for another, making her laugh even harder. She sat back with a contented sigh, looked up into the evening sky and closed her eyes. Life was good.

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