Secret of the Stallion

by Bonnie Bryant

  Then Enrico understood. “You do have very good friends, don’t you?”

  “The best,” she assured him.

  They set out toward the nearest park, Kensington, by themselves and free of Veronica. They passed Kensington Palace, where some of the royals lived. Lisa mused that it was hard to imagine living in a palace.

  “Drafty, actually, I think,” Enrico said. She realized with a start that Enrico’s house was a lot like that!

  Together they walked through the park and then out into the streets. They paid little attention to their route, only vaguely aware of the buildings they passed. They were lost in conversation.

  “I wonder what Cummington Castle is going to be like,” Lisa said. “Do you know anything about it?”

  “I’ve seen pictures, if that’s what you mean. It’s large—really looks like a castle. There are high walls. There may even be a lake around it—”

  “A moat?” Lisa supplied.

  “Is that the word, ‘moat’?” Enrico asked. Lisa nodded. “Well, yes, I think so. The last person to live in it was the Duke of Cummington, but I think he died in the Civil War.”

  “Like between the North and the South?” Lisa said.

  Enrico looked at her for a second, and then he laughed. “Don’t you Americans ever learn any history besides your own?” he asked.

  “Oh, that Civil War,” Lisa said. “The one with Oliver Cromwell?”

  “That’s the one,” said Enrico. “If I remember correctly, the Parliamentarians, mostly Puritans like the ones who first settled in Plymouth, wanted to get rid of the king, Charles the First, I think. But I don’t remember much more than that.”

  Lisa was a good student and a curious one. When somebody said “Civil War,” the first thing she thought about was the American Civil War, but she also knew something about English and European history.

  “I remember now. The Puritans who opposed Charles were called Roundheads—something about the way they wore their hair. And the Royalists were called Cavaliers. Didn’t you learn that in your history class?”

  “I did, I’m sure,” Enrico said. “You remembered better than I did.”

  “Well, I’d like to learn more about the duke before we get to Cummington Castle. I wish there were a library or something—”

  She stopped. So did Enrico. There, right in front of them, stood a large building with a sign out front proclaiming it to be a library.

  “Shall we?” she asked.

  “Why not?” he answered. “It seems like fate!”

  A few minutes later, they were seated at a long table with a small selection of books that a librarian had provided for them.

  “You look up ‘Cummington, Duke of,’ ” Lisa said. “I’ll read about the Civil War.”

  In the next hour they learned a lot. They learned that the war had taken place some 350 years earlier, from 1642 to 1651. They focused on the early part when the Roundheads took over most of the land of Britain. The Royalists were terrified of them. Many wealthy ones, like Cummington, had tried to elude the invading forces with trickery, such as hiding their wealth. For the most part, they were not successful.

  “Here’s something about Cummington,” Enrico said. “There’s a whole chapter on the construction of the castle. Then it says that Cummington was a Cavalier, though he didn’t fight personally. He sent many of his servants to do that for him. Apparently he was extremely wealthy and there’s something here in a—what do you call this?”

  “A footnote?”

  “Yes, a footnote, something about how after he died, nobody ever found his wealth.”

  “Then I wonder how they knew he was wealthy?”

  “The big castle, I guess. Anyway, there’s a lot more information here—”

  “Oh, but no time!” Lisa said, looking at her watch. It was 12:45.

  “We’ll learn more when we get there, I’m sure.”

  “Right,” Lisa said, closing the book she’d been reading. She and Enrico took the volumes back to the librarian and thanked her. She smiled politely at them.

  Then they ran. They had no time to walk back to the hotel. They were behind schedule, and Max would be furious if they kept him waiting.

  Just when Lisa thought she couldn’t run anymore, she spotted a taxi. The driver took them back to the hotel. They arrived at 12:59.

  “Where have you been?” Veronica asked as she dropped a booklet marked “London Dungeon” in a trash bin. Lisa looked at her with disbelief. Veronica had actually gone to the London Dungeon, expecting to find Enrico there!

  “We went to a library,” Enrico said.

  Veronica looked at Lisa in disbelief.

  “Ah, the bus is here,” said Max. “Everybody bring your bags out. It’s time to be on our way. The real trip is just beginning.”

  “LOOK, THERE IT is!” Lisa cried excitedly, looking out the window at Cummington Castle.

  “Turrets!” Stevie declared.

  “Banners!” said Carole.

  “Tents for the show horse stalls!” said Max.

  “A moat!” said Enrico. His friends looked at him in surprise. He translated the word into Italian for them. They nodded.

  Cummington Castle looked like a fairy-tale castle. It stood on a rise, silhouetted against the blue sky of the English countryside. It had a huge wall surrounding the castle, with crenellations on the battlements.

  “Can you imagine villagers and soldiers pouring boiling oil on attacking hordes?” Stevie asked.

  They could.

  “And the best part about it is that the castle has been modernized,” Max said. “It’s got heat, electricity, and plumbing. Parts of it are used as a hotel, sort of a very posh bed-and-breakfast.”

  “Is that where we’re staying?” Veronica asked.

  “Not exactly,” Max explained. “We’re at the Steede Inn. I thought that sounded like a good place for us and my travel agent recommended it.”

  Veronica smiled tolerantly. “How quaint,” she said.

  The bus pulled up to the Steede. As far as The Saddle Club was concerned, it was great. For one thing, it was quaint. It had small rooms filled with comfortable furniture, curtains and pillows were carefully matched. It was both warm and homey. They entered the hotel lobby and peered into the pub that shared the ground floor with the dining room.

  The Italian boys were staying in the inn’s annex, across a courtyard. The Horse Wise team was in the main building. A bellman picked up Mrs. Reg’s suitcase and led the group to their rooms. As they followed, they could tell that the Steede was a very old hotel and had been added onto many times. They made endless turns, then went up one step, around a corner, through a public room, down two steps, up a staircase.

  “We’ll never find our way out,” Veronica complained.

  “That’s fine by me,” said Stevie, looking at the comfortable furniture and pretty windows. “I’d be glad to move in.”

  “Just a few steps more, miss,” said the bellman. And it was. He produced a key and opened a door into a large, airy room that had two twin beds and a fold-out cot.

  “That’s us,” declared Carole, leading the way in. She, Stevie, and Lisa were sharing a room. It was bright and welcoming. The three girls piled in and closed the door. They heard the bellman deliver Mrs. Reg to the room next to theirs. Max’s room was across the hall. Next to his was Veronica’s room. The Saddle Club heard a brief silence after the bellman opened the door to her room.

  “There’s been some mistake,” said Veronica. “This isn’t a room. This is a closet.”

  “No mistake, miss,” the bellman said politely. “It’s the last single room available in the hotel.”

  The door shut firmly. The Saddle Club giggled to themselves. Nothing seemed to be working out for Veronica and while they weren’t exactly worried about hurting her feelings, there didn’t seem to be much point in rubbing it in by having her hear them laugh too loudly.

  “Come on, let’s get over to the castle,” said Stevie. “It’s
just a short walk from here. We can be there in two minutes.”

  “You mean two minutes after we unpack, don’t you?” Lisa asked.

  Stevie gave her a look.

  “Of course that’s what she means,” Carole said, answering for their friend. “Because as we unpack, we can take out our riding clothes, so that we can go to the stables and see if our horses have arrived and if they’d like a little exercise.”

  “Just what I had in mind,” Stevie agreed.

  It didn’t take long. The girls hung up a few things, divided the drawer space, and had everything stowed in a matter of minutes. Five more minutes to put on their riding clothes and they were ready.

  They checked in with Max, who said he’d meet them at the stables later, and they invited Veronica to come with them.

  She glared and told them she was going to take a nap instead. The Saddle Club didn’t mind at all. They headed off on their own.

  The town of Cummington was quite small, and it only took the girls a few minutes to get to the castle. Up close, it was even more dramatic and wonderful than it had seemed as they’d driven past it. The walls surrounding the castle seemed to rise straight into the air. It was hard to imagine even trying to attack it.

  The entrance to the castle was across a drawbridge that spanned the moat. Suspended above the main entrance was a portcullis, a spiked gate that could be lowered to keep out unwelcome visitors. Fortunately, The Saddle Club was welcome, and so, it seemed, were hundreds of other visitors.

  Crowds of people milled about the castle and its grounds. Since the actual show wasn’t to begin until the next day, the girls figured that most of the visitors were there just to see the castle or to buy tickets for the show.

  “I can’t wait to see the place,” said Stevie, leading her friends toward the drawbridge.

  “Later,” said Carole. “Our first concern is our horses. We’ve got to get to the stable to see if they’ve arrived from Dickens and to find out what we can be doing for them.”

  “And if we can ride them now, you mean,” said Lisa.

  “Definitely,” said Carole.

  “Good idea,” Stevie agreed. She gave the stone turrets a final wave. “See you later,” she promised. Then she followed her friends around the huge, imposing wall that protected Cummington.

  The castle itself was on a hill, but the hill was smooth and grassy, dotted with only a few trees.

  “I guess it’s open so that the soldiers could see if anyone was attacking long before they got here,” Stevie said.

  “Maybe,” said Lisa. “But that’s assuming that this is the way it looked three hundred and fifty years ago. Remember, a lot of trees can grow and be cut down in that length of time. The castle certainly hasn’t changed much—”

  “Other than electricity, heating, and plumbing, you mean?”

  “Well, yes, but I mean, the way it looks. The land around here, though. It could have been very different.”

  “For instance, there’s no stable,” said Carole, looking around. “I’m sure there was one originally. A big castle like this would have had hundreds of horses to keep for all the soldiers—to say nothing of the duke himself. It probably wouldn’t have fit inside the castle.”

  “Ah, but there’s a stable now,” said Stevie, pointing. And there, in front of them, was a huge expanse of tent, covering temporary stables where all the horses competing in the show would be housed.

  “There must be room there for more than a hundred horses!” Lisa said, awed by the enormous expanse of striped canvas.

  “It’s not so surprising when you think about it,” said Carole. “There are lots of competitors, and then there are the special-events horses, like ours. Remember, there are at least sixteen horses just for our demonstrations!”

  “Oh, right,” said Lisa. She was used to being the logical member of the group and she should have figured that out, but when it came to horses, sometimes Carole was more logical. “Let’s go look,” Lisa said.

  The stable covered a large area, almost the size of a football field. There was a main entrance near the castle. The far entrance was more for horses, since it led to the arenas where competition would take place. There were three arenas. One was for the principal event, and it had stands and bleachers for an audience. The other two were for practice and warm-up.

  The girls entered the temporary stable at the main entrance. They found a stable manager controlling entrances and exits.

  “We’re from America,” Lisa began to explain.

  “I can see that,” grumbled the old man. “But it don’t mean you’re welcome to visit the horses.”

  “I mean, we’re here as competitors. We’re the American Pony Club team.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?” he grumbled.

  “I tried to,” she said.

  “The ’orses from Dickens arrived this morning.” Then he riffled through a stack of papers clipped onto a board. “Aisle two, stalls fifteen to eighteen. That way,” he pointed. He handed them each a sheet of paper with instructions for competitors and demonstrators and sent them on their way.

  Before they could get to their own horses, they found someone they wanted to see even more.

  “Look! It’s Nigel!” said Stevie, quickening her pace. The others hurried, too. At aisle 1, stall 12, Nigel Hawthorne was checking the grooming job on a huge gray stallion.

  “Well, if it isn’t The Saddle Club!” Nigel said, greeting them all with a warm hug.

  “We just got here,” Stevie explained. “We were in London seeing absolutely everything we could cram into three days, but now it’s time to get down to business. That means horses. Can we meet yours?”

  “You certainly may,” said Nigel. “Ladies, I’d like to introduce you to Pound Sterling.” He stepped away from the stall opening so they could see the horse in question. “Sterling—that’s what I call him—is a Thoroughbred stallion, eight years old. He’s a silvery gray, which is how he got his name, and he’s the property of Lord Yaxley.”

  “Yaxley?” Lisa asked. “That’s not what Max said. Are you sure you’ve got the right guy?”

  Nigel laughed. “Absolutely,” he assured them. “However, Max may have been uncertain about how to pronounce it. It is pronounced Yaxley, but it’s spelled Y-A-W-E-L-K-E-S-L-E-I-G-H. We British have become expert at eliminating unnecessary vowels when we speak.”

  “Right, like Harcourt-St. Claire’s-in-the-Wold becoming Hart-Sinclair,” said Lisa.

  “Oh, that’s right,” said Nigel. “I heard a rumor that you were all riding horses from Dickens. It’s true, then?”

  “Yes, it is, and I guess we’re going to have to do a super job to live up to Dickens’s reputation.”

  “You’ll do your best and that’s all anybody expects,” Nigel said. The girls knew that was true. It was just that they expected their best to earn first place.

  “And what about you?” Lisa asked, admiring the sleek stallion in the stall. “Is Sterling as wonderful as he looks?”

  “I think so,” said Nigel. “Lord Yaxley doesn’t seem convinced, though. He’s been grumbling for months that this fellow isn’t worth what he paid for him and he’ll never get his money out in stud fees, either. He’s been hoping for a big win to increase the horse’s value so he can sell Sterling at a huge profit. I’d like to oblige him, and I’m sure Sterling has the skills and the power. Besides, it would be good for me to ride one of Yaxley’s horses to a blue ribbon.”

  Carole looked at Sterling. It was hard for her to imagine a horse like that disappointing anyone. “Don’t worry,” she assured Nigel. “You’ll do well on him.”

  “With the proper cheering section,” he said.

  “We’ll be there for you,” said Stevie. “And we’ll make all the noise we can muster.”

  “Which is quite a lot,” Lisa said.

  “I’ll be listening for it,” said Nigel. Then he glanced at his watch. “Right now, however, I’ve got to get to a team meeting. See you three tomorrow!
”

  He gave Sterling a final pat and left the girls to find their way to aisle 2, stalls 15 to 18. It didn’t take long. There, waiting patiently for them, were Miss Havisham, Copperfield, Pip, and Nickleby. They looked well adjusted to their new surroundings. Carole explained to her friends that that probably meant they were used to being transported and spending time in unfamiliar stables.

  “In other words, I think they compete a lot,” said Carole.

  “I think we’re very lucky to have these horses to ride,” said Lisa.

  “It’s not luck, it’s you,” said Stevie. “Just because you rescued Tessa when she’d been thrown by her horse the last time you were in England …”

  Lisa shrugged. “I was just doing what every good rider does when another gets into trouble. I was being helpful. And now she’s being helpful back.”

  “I like her kind of helpful,” Stevie said, giving Copperfield a hug. He nuzzled her neck and tickled her, making her laugh.

  Pip stuck his head out over the stall door and looked around, peering first one way down the aisle and then the other.

  “I guess he’s curious,” said Lisa, patting him affectionately.

  “I think he’s just looking for the door,” said Carole. “These horses have spent as much time in the van as we did in the bus. I bet they’d like to get out.”

  “Like to go for a ride?” Stevie asked. She thought she knew what was on Carole’s mind, and she liked it.

  “Yes, but how do we do it?” Carole asked.

  Lisa knew the answer. She held up the sheet of paper that the stable manager had handed her. “We apply at the lads’ booth for someone to tack up our mounts,” she read.

  “What?” asked Stevie.

  “It means we go ask a stable boy to do our jobs for us,” Lisa explained.

  “I can live with that,” said Stevie.

  Half an hour later, three stablehands, known in England as lads, even though one of them was a woman, led their horses to one of the schooling rings and held the reins as the girls mounted.

  At first the girls just walked their horses around the schooling ring. It gave the horses a chance to limber up. It gave the girls a chance to talk about what they wanted to accomplish in their practice ride.