Blaze and the Dark Rider

by Stacy Gregg

  “Pah! Something wrong? Those boys are idiots!” Francoise groaned, rolling her eyes. “I-d-i-o-t-s!” she stated again.

  “Do you know what is the hardest thing for us running a travelling school?” she asked. “Well, I will tell you. The hardest thing is controlling the stallions when they realise that there are mares right next door.”

  Francoise shook her head. “This is not easy. To control the stallions it is best, of course, if they do not see the mares at all. To keep them apart we put them in separate wings of the stables, and when we graze the horses outdoors when the weather is warm, as it has been lately, we always keep the mares at least two fields away from any stallions. That is the rule here at El Caballo Danza Magnifico. The problem is,” she sighed, “some of these young boys they do not bother to learn the rules.”

  Francoise began to walk back down the corridor towards the wing of the stable where they kept the mares, and she gestured for Issie to walk with her.

  “A few nights ago, when the moon was full and the weather was fine, we let the mares out to graze,” Francoise continued. “Unfortunately, the boys did not realise this. And so, in the paddock right next door, they put Marius! Can you believe this? Marius! Of all the stallions he is the most powerful, the best jumper.

  Well, of course he hurdled the fence in a matter of minutes. But it was hours before the stable boys had noticed their mistake. By then he had been in with my mares for such a long time it was chaos!”

  Issie felt her pulse quicken. A stallion left wild with mares was dangerous. He could do all kinds of damage. What if Blaze had been in the paddock too? “Are the mares OK?” she asked Francoise, her voice tight with concern.

  “Oui, Isadora. Yes, I believe they are all OK. It is Salome that we are most concerned about. When we found them in the paddock, Marius was with her. The vet is checking her out once more now. Come, I am sure you will want to see her. And I know she will want to see you.” Francoise smiled at Issie and pushed through the large wooden double doors that led at last into the mares’ stables.

  Next to the third stable door in the row Issie could see a man in overalls, she guessed it must be the vet, putting a vial of blood into a bag on the floor.

  “Bonjour, Nigel, how is she doing? Has she recovered?” Francoise said to the vet.

  “She’s fine,” the vet responded. “That bite mark on her neck is healing well and I’ve given her another antibiotic shot. I’m hoping it won’t scar, but at least it will be hidden by her mane,” he said. “I’ve taken some blood to do further tests, but we’ll have to wait a couple of days for the results,” the vet continued, packing his equipment into the bag. “The mare seems to be fine.”

  “Merci. À bientôt!” Francoise smiled. And then she turned to Issie. “I am so glad you have come. I did not think you would. This must be difficult for you?”

  Issie nodded.

  “For me also,” Francoise said. “It has not been easy because your horse pines for you, do you know that? She has been off her feed anyway and I cannot think what else it could be…” she grinned, “unless she is lovesick for Marius! When I found the two of them together they were quite the romantic couple.” She laughed.

  “Anyway, Salome will settle in eventually,” she added. “But perhaps it is good for her now that you are here once more to say goodbye.” Francoise nodded towards the stable doors. “She is in there. Spend as long as you like with her as there is no performance today. We are busy packing. Then come and find me before you leave. I have something for you.”

  Issie unbolted the bottom half of the Dutch door and ducked down to slip into the stable. Inside, the room was all gloom and shadows. Issie felt the straw bedding scrunching beneath her feet as she moved across the room and flicked on the light switch on the wall.

  Illuminated in the far corner of the stall was Blaze. The mare was wearing a silver halter and Issie could see that the shining name plate on the halter read with her name, Salome. Above the name plate, something gold flickered. Issie moved closer to inspect the golden object and realised that it was one half of a golden heart which was threaded on to Blaze’s halter. Issie had seen friendship hearts like these at school. The idea was that you wore one half of the heart as a necklace and your friend wore the other half as a symbol that you were best friends for ever.

  “Hey, girl,” Issie said softly. “Look at you with your pretty silver halter. Don’t you look fancy?”

  Blaze nickered softly in return and moved around in the stall now so that her nose was facing Issie. She gave the girl a gentle nudge and Issie felt the warm, velvet smoothness of Blaze’s muzzle against her bare skin. The mare nudged again, harder this time and Issie giggled.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, of course I’ve got you a farewell present,” she said, reaching into her pocket and producing a slice of apple.

  Blaze took a step closer to Issie and her lips fumbled across the palm of Issie’s open hand, searching out the apple, which she munched down eagerly.

  “Do you want some more?” Issie asked, pulling another two pieces of apple out of her pocket and palming them to Blaze who eagerly snuffled them up.

  As Blaze chewed on the last of the apple pieces, Issie slipped under her neck and around to the other side of the mare so that she could check her wound. Sure enough, there were the teeth marks in Blaze’s neck, down low near the wither, hidden by her mane. The vet had applied antiseptic cream and there seemed to be no sign of infection, Issie noted with relief.

  “Oh, Blaze! Look at you getting into trouble the minute I’m not around. What are you going to do when I’m not there to look after you?” Issie murmured. And at that moment she realised the truth. Tomorrow Blaze would be gone, and Issie wouldn’t be there to look after her any more. It was really over. Blaze was leaving.

  Issie stepped over to the bucket of grooming brushes that were hanging on the wall next to Blaze’s untouched hay net. She reached her hand into the bucket and pulled out a body brush. Then she stood back to assess the horse, before beginning to work with gentle strokes, moving the brush over the mare’s neck and chest and then down her front legs, sweeping down the delicate tendons over the knee and the cannon bone and down to the pastern.

  After a while she stood up again and brushed Blaze’s back where the saddle normally sat, brushing over her flanks and rump and down again, and finally working vigorously on her hocks. When Issie had kept Blaze in the paddock at the pony club those hocks were usually muddy from rolling when she brought her in to groom her. But here, at El Caballo Danza Magnifico, the mare was stabled warm and dry so her coat was clean and shiny. She didn’t need brushing at all, but Issie wanted to groom her, just one last time.

  She worked around to the other side of the horse, taking a mane comb and running it through the fine strands of Blaze’s mane. It was so much silkier and less bushy than Mystic’s mane had been. But then Mystic had just been an ordinary old pony Issie thought, and Blaze was a purebred Anglo-Arab with papers to prove it.

  Still, she had loved both her horses equally. When she lost Mystic, she thought that she would never love another horse again. And then along came Blaze, so different to Mystic, so temperamental and haughty. But hadn’t she won the mare over? There was a bond between them now; Blaze was her horse. In her heart she always would be. But now, she realised, she had to let her go.

  “I’m so sorry, girl, but there’s nothing else I can do,” Issie said. She flung her arms around Blaze’s neck one last time and buried her face in her mane. “It’s time to say goodbye,” she said.

  Issie ran her hand down Blaze’s nose, slowly tracing along the thin white blaze that began as a star on the mare’s forehead. Issie had named her Blaze because of that white marking on her face, but the horse had a new name now. Issie stepped back to the stable door. “Goodbye, Salome,” she said. “I hope they love you as much as I do.” And with that, Issie stepped out of the stable and bolted the door behind her.

  Blinded by tears, Issie was making her wa
y back out through the sawdust arena when she heard a voice calling out to her, “Isadora! Wait!”

  Francoise ran over to where Issie was standing. “I told you to come and see me before you left,” she said gently. Then she thrust a small package wrapped in white tissue paper into her hand. “For you,” she said. “Keep it close always and do not forget us.”

  Issie took the package and looked up at Francoise. The raven-haired Frenchwoman had tears shining in her eyes. “I am sorry but I must go now,” she said. “There is so much to be done before we leave tomorrow.” She smiled at Issie. “I am sure this is not goodbye. So I will say à bientôt—see you soon. Until we meet again.”

  Francoise began to stride across the arena. Then she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “Do not worry, Isadora. I will take good care of her. I promise you.” And with that, Francoise walked away.

  Issie watched as she disappeared through the stable doorway, and then she turned too and headed for home.

  It wasn’t until much later, when Issie was in her bedroom that evening, that she finally opened the paper package to see what Francoise had given her. Nestled inside the white layers of tissue she saw something gold glittering in the light. Issie picked it up carefully. It was one half of a broken golden heart—to match the broken heart on Blaze’s halter.

  Chapter 13

  The weather turned bad the next day and Issie looked out the window and thought about Francoise and her team loading their horses in the pouring rain. A little rain wouldn’t stop them of course, Issie realised. Blaze would still be leaving today. She stared out at the dark grey skies, and watched the window fog up with her breath.

  “Issie, I’ve made pancakes!” her mum called from downstairs. Issie didn’t usually have time for breakfast. Most days she was too busy charging out the door to go down to the paddock. But there was no horse to hurry off to any more. She padded downstairs, still in her pyjamas, and sat at the table.

  “Do you want real maple syrup or the fake stuff?” Mrs Brown asked.

  “Fake, thanks, Mum,” Issie said. Her mother always asked the question—even though she knew that Issie preferred the taste of the synthetic syrup to the honest maple-leaf version.

  “Do you want to go shopping with me today?” Mrs Brown asked as she dished up the pancakes. “You could do with some new clothes and we need to get you some school shoes. I thought we could go to the mall and then get some lunch.”

  Issie gave her mum a weak smile. “No thanks, Mum. I think I’m going to go down to the River Paddock.”

  Mrs Brown looked puzzled. “What for?”

  “Ummm, there’s still some gear in the tack room there and I thought I should clear it up,” Issie said unconvincingly.

  “I thought all of Blaze’s gear was in the tack room at the pony club?” Mrs Brown said.

  “Well, most of it…”

  “Are you up to something, Isadora?” Her mother arched a brow as she asked the question.

  “No, Mum, honest…I need to pack up the rest of my grooming kit and stuff…” Issie paused “…and, well, I guess I want to spend some time alone. The River Paddock is where I first met Blaze…”

  Mrs Brown nodded silently. She flipped another pancake in the pan, assessing its brownness on both sides, and then used a fish slice to lift it on to a plate. She carried the plate over to Issie and sat down at the table next to her daughter.

  “I used to worry about you with that horse,” Mrs Brown said quietly. “After your accident with Mystic I didn’t even want you to ride again—full stop. Certainly not on a horse like that. Blaze was so unpredictable. She seemed so highly strung. I was always worried that you couldn’t handle her.”

  “Then why did you let me keep her?” Issie said.

  Mrs Brown smiled. “Tom Avery set me straight. We had a little chat and he told me what a born horsewoman you are, that you actually have the talent to take it all the way. Tom says that one day you could be a great rider.” Mrs Brown looked at her daughter. “Perhaps even better than he was.”

  Issie was shocked. She shook her head in bewilderment.

  “Anyway, that’s what Tom said so don’t start arguing with me about it,” her mother said briskly, getting up from the table. “And who am I to stand in the way of a superstar in the making? You know I cannot bear horses, Issie. They scare me stiff. But I do love you, and if riding is what you want to do, then you should do it. I know you must be feeling devastated right now. It isn’t fair that Blaze has been taken from you. But trust me, somehow we’re going to find a way for you to ride again. We’re not giving up that easily.”

  Mrs Brown smiled at her daughter. “Now eat up that second pancake. It’s not like you to eat just one!”

  It was still raining when Issie set off on her bike to the River Paddock. Her mum had offered to give her a lift but she said she would prefer to ride her bike despite the bad weather. She pulled on her waterproof and boots and set off.

  The rain was heavy and by the time she arrived at the paddock her legs, which had been poking out from under the coat, were soaking wet.

  On the way to the paddock she thought about what her mum had said. Had Avery really told her mum that Issie was going to be a great rider one day? Even better than he was? Avery had ridden at Badminton. Issie would love to be half as good as he was in his day.

  She shook her head, dismissing the idea of it. It didn’t matter what Tom said. How could she ever be a great rider when she didn’t even have a horse? Despite her mum’s pep talk about not giving up, Issie knew there was no way her mother could afford to buy her another horse. Natasha Tucker was right—Blaze was too good for her. Horses like her cost a fortune and since Issie’s mum and dad had split up, her mother didn’t have that much money any more. There was no way she had enough money to buy a horse like Blaze.

  Issie parked her bike up next to the turnstile and clambered over the fence, trying not to get her coat caught on the palings. The rain was so heavy now that the whole paddock was blurred in a grey haze. In the far paddock she could make out the dark, wet shapes of horses. Their rumps were turned to face the rain and their heads were hanging dejectedly. The weather was too miserable for them to graze. In the furthest paddock, a small herd of them were sheltering underneath the trees at the edge of The Pines.

  The Pines were a cluster of huge pine trees that formed a natural grove at the far end of the River Paddock. Issie had always loved cantering Blaze through the winding paths between the trees on hot sunny days. She looked at The Pines and then cast a sideways glance at the tack room. She was already wet and chilly; the sensible thing to do was to pack up her gear and head home again before the rain got worse. She began to walk towards the tack room, but then she stopped. She changed her mind and set off towards the pine trees instead, walking slowly with her head bent down against the weather.

  A trickle of water ran down the back of her neck, slipping sneakily under the waterproof and down her back. She pulled up her collar against the wind and the rain which was now being blown horizontally.

  Issie undid the gate between the first and second paddocks and then relatched it and kept walking. She was heading for the corner of the field where the path into The Pines began.

  The grass was boggy underfoot so Issie was surprised when she reached The Pines and found that the ground there beneath the trees was quite dry. Sheltered by the branches above, the carpet of dead pine needles remained untouched by the rain. Issie felt the crunch of the needles under her feet and smelt the thick resin scent as she walked along the path between the trees.

  She had only gone a few metres into the pines when she heard the sound of hooves. The trees cast dark shadows and she peered into the half-light ahead of her, trying to see. Where was the horse who was making the noise? Her heart leapt as she caught sight of him. The first thing she saw was a dapple-grey shadow. Then the silhouette of a small sway-backed pony came into view. The pony came closer now, weaving between pine trees, trotting in and out of the s
hadows. And then suddenly there he was in front of her, his dark eyes peering out at Issie from beneath a long, windswept silver fringe.

  “Hello, Mystic.” Issie smiled. “I should have known you would be here.”

  Mystic stepped forward now, and Issie reached out a hand to softly stroke his velvet nose.

  The grey pony nickered softly “Oh, Mystic,” Issie whispered, “I’m glad I still have you, boy. I’ll always have you, won’t I?”

  She wrapped her arms around Mystic’s neck and buried her face deep into the warmth of his thick mane, smothering herself in the smell of horse, closing her eyes and hanging on tight.

  “It’s not fair,” Issie said, her voice trembling. “I miss her so much!”

  Mystic nickered again. “Oh, Mystic! You miss her, too, don’t you boy?” Issie said.

  They stayed there like this for a long time, and as Issie stroked Mystic’s velvet-soft dappled neck, she realised that the little gelding seemed in no hurry to go anywhere. Like Issie, he seemed to know that there was nothing he could do this time to help Blaze. And so the pair of them stood there, Issie murmuring to Mystic and the horse nickering softly back to her, almost as if they had their own private language.

  After a while the rain seemed to finally ease off a bit. Issie led Mystic over to a big pine stump just off the main path and used it as a mounting block to vault lightly on to the little grey’s sway back. Then the pair of them walked together through The Pines, each comforted by the other’s company as the rain pattered on the natural canopy above them and the pine needles crackled under Mystic’s hooves.

  They walked like that all the way through The Pines, and Issie breathed in the tang of wet pine mixed with the familiar, sweet smell of warm horse sweat. She looked up at the black branches above her blocking out the light, making a puzzle of the sky above.