Daughter Of The Wind --Western Wind

by Sandra Elsa

The sun was just starting to dry the dew on the morning grass when Johann led Pink down one of the infrequent paths branching from the main road. An hour later they followed the path down a steep hill, through a creek and up to a cozy stone house, built there in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a large field of cleared land. A rustic log barn stood behind the house, the squeal of newborn piglets carried to their ears, as they stood at the edge of the fields.

  No fresh hoof prints marked the trail; still, Pink searched the surrounding forests for a trace of motion. Nothing moved, other than the normal gentle sway of branches in the wind. They approached the house with caution.

  Peace and quiet ruled here. Johann’s rapping on the door of the small house returned a distant echo, floating back from the far end of the valley.

  Nobody answered, but Johann sat on the porch. "He'll return shortly."

  Pink rested on the bottom step, taking in her surroundings.

  In the middle of the field, a brown and white milk cow and her calf munched grass under a large maple, tails lazily swishing insects.

  Three horses grazing by the forest's edge caught Pink’s wandering gaze. There were two mares and what looked like a yearling colt. The mares were both light chestnut with flaxen mane and tail and the heavy build common to farm horses. The colt did not look the least bit similar. If one of the mares was his dam, the sire must have been a handsome animal. The refined build of the colt, displayed musculature that even Pink could see would develop into a powerful animal. His coat was coal black. A few white hairs streaked his mane and tail, and a small white star lit the middle of his forehead.

  She had never seen a more beautiful horse. And she had spent a good deal of time in the stables at Mistress Henna's, admiring traveler's horses. Dreaming of the places she'd go if only she could ride. As she stared at him the colt lifted his head and looked back at her. A flicker of white in the forest caught Pink’s attention, but as she searched for what was out there, all remained still.

  Dismissing it as a wild animal fleeing deeper into the forest, she turned her attention back to the colt. He glanced at one of the mares, and nuzzled her neck, then trotted across the field to where Pink sat on the lowest step.

  His muzzle dropped into her hand and she gently stroked him, moving from his soft nose, up his face and down his neck. She stood up to better reach the rest of him and when she got to the withers he leaned into her and all but rubbed himself back and forth.

  Her arm started to hurt from the pressure of scratching him, the lumps of scar tissue formed around shredded muscles ached, she sat back down. Standing in front of her with a relaxed look on his face, the colt contentedly dropped his muzzle to her now still hands.

  Johann did not move while she scratched the colt. As horse and girl relaxed, he shifted the position he was sitting in. The colt's head came up and he skittered off about five feet. When the motion ceased he returned to Pink.

  A shout reverberated up the valley. Pink couldn’t make out the words carried on the wind, but the tone was friendly. At the sound of the voice, the colt took off like black lightning, racing back to the mares. Pink and Johann watched the man moving up the valley, on the path which meandered between the small stream and a freshly plowed field. When he got closer Johann went to greet him.

  After a hearty embrace the two men stood back to see what changes time had wrought to an old acquaintance. "You're looking good Tomas," Johann said.

  "You look… better. It's been so long, I never expected to see you again," Tomas replied. "What brings you my way after all this time, and who do we have here?"

  As they walked up the steps Johann introduced Pink and gave a brief bit of her story as way of answering both questions. She shook hands with Tomas and he gave her an appraising glance. "I understand how you could bewitch a man, but would you explain what you did to my colt?"

  She pulled her hand away, but he squeezed tighter and reached over with his other hand to push the sleeve of her shirt back to reveal the lumpy scars. He soothed her fears. “Don’t worry girl, any friend of Johann’s is safe in my house. It’s just...your arm is gray.”

  Pink stared in confusion. Her arm wasn’t gray. It was a patchwork of pale white and angry red.

  It didn’t enlighten her any further when he turned to Johann and said, “We’ll take care of that tonight.”

  His eyes assessed her, rising from her injured arm, to her face. He smiled to put her at ease and returned the conversation to the colt. Waving down the field he said, "That runt is almost two years old and I haven't yet had a hand on him. Spooks and runs the second I walk out the door. Won't even stay with his dam if I'm using her to plow, not since the day he was born."

  Pink returned his smile and looked across the field to the thirteen hand tall colt. "He came over and dropped his nose in my hands like he knew me and I was his best friend.” She stretched her shoulders forward then relaxed, “Wore my arm off scratching him, but when Johann moved he ran.” Looking back at Johann’s friend she said, “Maybe he's just a woman's horse, we used to have a couple of ladies’ mounts at Mistress Henna's stable, didn't much care for men."

  "Who's his sire?" Johann asked, staring at the colt.

  "Reckon I can't answer that question,” Tomas told him. “By the looks, I'd say one of the King's hunters lost their mount. I don't run fences except around the gardens so he could have wandered through. If that's what happened, I don't know why the colt’s such a runt.” The frown he turned on the colt, left little doubt of his opinion of small horses. “All the King's horses are top grade warhorses; even the ones his hunters use. At least they were during Caryon's rule. Warhorses tend to make Bess and Millie look small."

  Staring at the surrounding forest as though half expecting the stallion to return after all this time, Tomas continued, "Old Bess has had several foals before, but usually I planned them. She hasn't ever had one that looked like that. I don't rightly know who his daddy is, but as far as I'm concerned, he can come take him back.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Pink couldn’t believe anybody could find fault with the colt.

  “He'll never be big enough to plow, that's all he is at twenty-two months. He won’t be worth the effort it's going to take to train him. He's not a ladies’ horse, leastwise, not all ladies anyway 'cause he won't let my wife near him."

  Johann‘s eyes lit. "Speaking of Terri, where is she? I hope she's doing well?"

  Tomas looked down the field. "She'll be here. I heard you walk through my shields like they weren't even there and rushed back here to see who had decided to visit."

  As if summoned by her name, Terri appeared down the valley where they had first seen Tomas.

  A large woman with handsome features, Terri looked well able to handle any problem that might come along, and she was hurrying now in case Tomas was in trouble. Pink easily saw the stout fishing pole carried over her right shoulder turning into a deadly weapon if necessary. She shuddered, remembering when she had swung just such a branch in self-defense. Terri’s other arm looped through the handle of a basket carrying freshly caught fish. When she arrived, introductions were made and they all went inside.

  Pink’s mind whirled—the colt had absolutely captivated her. She wondered if she could talk Tomas into letting her have him. She didn't have any money, but just maybe; if Tomas thought him worthless he'd be glad to see his tail go down the road. She had never owned anything, not even the clothes on her back. Not that she was at all certain having the colt go with her would mean she owned him. He seemed rather independent.

  Terri hung a pot of water on a hook over the fireplace and made tea for everyone.

  When they were all seated, Johann looked over to Tomas and asked, “Do you mind if we stay here awhile? Pink needs to stay out of sight and I could certainly use some good honest farm work to get me back in shape.”

  “As long as you’re planning to work for your keep you’re more than welcome, Johann.” Tomas smiled broadly, then
turned to look at Pink and said, “Of course any friend of Johann’s is also welcome. Stay as long as you like.”

  “I can help out as well,” Pink offered, much more sure of herself than she had been a few short months ago when she’d met Johann. “I can cook, and clean house and I’m good around an herb garden. I have seeds I collected from Johann’s garden.”

  Terri smiled, “The gardens are already coming up. Though I’d be glad to see if you have anything I don’t. Mari and I always used to exchange seeds.” She stopped and glanced at Johann checking for a reaction to his wife’s name, but he and Tomas were engrossed in their own conversation. “It’s not too late to plant.”

  After tea, Terry took Pink out and walked her through the herb gardens. Many of the plants were just starting to peek through the soil. Many more beds were dormant, awaiting longer, warmer days before venturing up. Pink recognized the unruly patch of hardy spearmint that had flavored the tea. When they rounded the corner of the house to go in, Pink looked back, delighted to see the colt following at a discreet distance.

  Later that evening, she discovered exactly what Tomas had been saying about her arm. He explained how the aura faded to gray in areas where the body was receiving poor blood flow, or was in other wise damaged. He laid his hands on her arm and she felt a warmth flow through the injured tissue. In amazement she saw the lumps smooth out and the skin stretch to a smooth though bruised surface. For the first time in months she was able to wiggle her fingers without being reminded of the dog that attacked her.

  She looked up in gratitude and saw the gray color of Tomas’s face. He looked about ready to pitch forward and she jumped to her feet to help him only a tiny bit slower than Johann, who seemed to be awaiting this reaction. With one of them under each arm they followed Terri into her and Tomas’s bedroom and laid him on the bed. They left him there for Terri to undress.

  In the living room in front of the hearth, she turned to Johann. “He’ll be all right won’t he?”

  “Of course he will.” Johann reassured her, “He expended a great amount of energy to do what he just did. That’s why he didn’t do it earlier in the day. He knew he’d be out the rest of the night.