The Horse and His Boy
C. S. Lewis
Language: English
Pages: 256
ISBN: 0064471063
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
A mass-market paperback edition of The Horse and His Boy, book three in the classic fantasy series, The Chronicles of Narnia, featuring cover art by Cliff Nielsen and black-and-white interior artwork by the original illustrator of Narnia, Pauline Baynes.
On a desperate journey, two runaways meet and join forces. Though they are only looking to escape their harsh and narrow lives, they soon find themselves at the center of a terrible battle. It is a battle that will decide their fate and the fate of Narnia itself.
The Horse and His Boy is the third book in C. S. Lewis's classic fantasy series, which has been drawing readers of all ages into a magical land where horses talk and destiny awaits for over sixty years. This is a novel that stands on its own, but if you would like to explore more of Narnia, read Prince Caspian, the fourth book in The Chronicles of Narnia.
Skybreaker (Matt Cruse, Book 2)
The Dead Of Night (Tomorrow, Book 2)
Beyond the Shadows (Night Angel, Book 3)
The Screaming Staircase (Lockwood & Co., Book 1)
Getting out of the city without using the gates. The Tisroc’s garden (may he live forever!) runs right down to the water and there is a little water-door. Only for the palace people of course—but then you know, dear” (here she tittered a little) “we almost are palace people. I say, it is lucky for you that you came to me. The dear Tisroc (may he live forever!) is so kind. We’re asked to the palace almost every day and it is like a second home. I love all the dear princes and princesses and I.
Had sold badly he would find fault with him and perhaps beat him. There was always something to find fault with for Shasta had plenty of work to do, mending and washing the nets, cooking the supper, and cleaning the cottage in which they both lived. Shasta was not at all interested in anything that lay south of his home because he had once or twice been to the village with Arsheesh and he knew that there was nothing very interesting there. In the village he only met other men who were just like.
Much more gently than yesterday. It was really Hwin, though she was the weaker and more tired of the two, who set the pace. The valley itself, with its brown, cool river, and grass and moss and wild flowers and rhododendrons, was such a pleasant place that it made you want to ride slowly. TEN THE HERMIT OF THE SOUTHERN MARCH AFTER THEY HAD RIDDEN FOR SEVERAL hours down the valley, it widened out and they could see what was ahead of them. The river which they had been following here.
Truthful horse we must accept his word. Shasta slipped his feet out of the stirrups, slid both his legs over on the left side, hesitated for one hideous hundredth of a second, and jumped. It hurt horribly and nearly winded him; but before he knew how it hurt him he was staggering back to help Aravis. He had never done anything like this in his life before and hardly knew why he was doing it now. One of the most terrible noises in the world, a horse’s scream, broke from Hwin’s lips. Aravis.
Sore back, Aravis felt so well that after breakfast (which was porridge and cream) the Hermit said she could get up. And of course she at once went out to speak to the Horses. The weather had changed and the whole of that green enclosure was filled, like a great green cup, with sunlight. It was a very peaceful place, lonely and quiet. Hwin at once trotted across to Aravis and gave her a horse-kiss. “But where’s Bree?” said Aravis when each had asked after the others health and sleep. “Over.