Flaxmead

by Brian Cain

CHAPTER SEVEN

  It was six days to be precise, early light had just broken. Kalika was grooming Flaxmead in the wash down bay and her father had not told her about the grand horse float that pulled up in the yard. The daunting lorry was decorated in a grand manner in keeping with the standard of cargo it carried. Kalika anticipated what had arrived and gave her father a dirty look.

  Roger Palmer shrugged his shoulders at her, "We can't tell anyone what comes in and out of here now. You would've told all your friend's and the neighbour's, you know what you're like you'd talk the hind leg of a donkey. Toss up on telling you or the news of the world like. Know what I mean."

  Kalika was short and slim but filling out in her later teens; she stared sternly at her father and put her hands on her hips. "Dad!"

  A tall burly red haired character in a neat gold uniform and polished riding boots climbed from the driver's seat of the lorry carrying a clip board and approached Kalika and her father. He spoke with a clear Scottish accent. "I'm looking for Winston Blake," he asked.

  "He's in the house," replied Kalika.

  "Thank you and a bonny lassie you are." The Scotchman caught site of Flaxmead tethered on the wash down pad. "Is that your steed lassie?"

  "No its Mr Blake's."

  "Kalika." She turned to find Blake mustered by the arrival of the lorry standing behind her. "Flaxmead is yours as much as mine." She didn't know what to say and stepped to one side bitting her bottom lip. "I'm Winston Blake we have been expecting you."

  The Scotchman offered his hand to Winston and they exchanged greetings. "Ross Hildebrand is my name sir I train horses." Hildebrand squinted at Kalika and racked his brain. "I've seen you somewhere before lassie you're picture is in magazines, are you a show jumper." A penny dropped. "Wait a moment you're Kalika Palmer junior champion. I hear your father is a brilliant whisperer."

  "Why don't you ask him he's standing next to you," replied Kalika.

  Ross dropped his head slightly and put out his hand. "Oh sorry sir, forgive me."

  Roger shook his hand. "What's in the lorry for us then like."

  "A cockney, they all seem to be like comedians Benny Hill or John Cleese must be in the blood."

  "Well that's right like, we all sort of act as a comical officer in roster for the week. This must be ratified by the cockney comical autonomous commune with a fifty percent majority in pure internal affairs fortnightly, or at a monthly meeting with all present in excess of fifty percent for external affairs. This week it's me some watery tart threw a sword at me, any questions."

  Hildebrand laughed out loud. "None I'm sorry I asked. I've some horses here three to be exact, they're no ordinary horses. They're three of the fastest horses in existence. One and a half million pounds worth."

  Palmer smiled and twitched his head to one side. "I don't gauge horses by a monetary value; I judge them on temperament, intelligence, courage and character. The best horses I ever had cost me next to nothing."

  Hildebrand slapped Palmer on the back making him cough. "I heard you were a man of my own heart. My instructions are to run these horses here today on a test track and leave before nightfall."

  "We have no jockey here to run that many horses." replied Palmer.

  "I've been given their regular jockeys, they're in the bunk quarters of the float. I find them to be nasty annoying little cretins that drink allot but have small bladders. If not for them I would have been here an hour ago."

  "The horse's names," asked Palmer.

  "I have a message from two distinguished elderly gentleman for want of a better description, it's for you Mr Blake and quote." Hildebrand looked at his clip board. "Try this bunch, can't make it back having too much fun in Edinburgh. Off to France tomorrow hope to be home soon, get on with it. Regards Wilson Hornswaddle Bartholomew Fothrington. Tell me something Mr Blake are those gentleman real people, seem liked they had been locked away for fifty years and suddenly let loose to terrorise the population."

  Everyone laughed aloud. "They certainly are, takes some people longer to grow up than others with varied results. Did they buy these horses?"

  "No, my boss would never part with them. Those two gentlemen must have some bargaining power. They know something that concerned him, these horses have never left the stables for anything other than major race meetings and never all together. If you're familiar with racing colours you may know their names, the jockeys think they are on a qualifying test for their next riding contracts so keep out the way."

  "You been travelling all night," asked Palmer.

  "No we bunked down south of Birmingham last night and left early this morning."

  "Soon as you saddle up we'll stick em in the gate, that black stallion over there will take the outside stall. Wed like to run a few times three thousand metres."

  "Three thousand metres that's a long way. One of these horses has never run over a thousand but holds the current world record for a thousand. She's and American horse from Texas."

  "Then drop her out after a thousand," said Palmer.

  "She can run three thousand she just doesn't know how to."

  "We all learn something today then," added Blake. "Let's go sooner they run the sooner you can go home."

  The lorry was shrouded in security and the horses prepared behind the closed doors of the double deck pan trailer. Blake didn't like the cloak and dagger atmosphere but Palmer expected things to be tight and assured him it was nothing new. Grass roots racing was a family affair with plenty of integration and atmosphere, grade one horse racing was a stark contrast in comparison. Kalika saddled Flaxmead as through the truck pan windows and vents the jockeys studied the opposition. They were awe struck by the black stallion and conferred to box him in against the rail if he could run with agreements on who would win each test. The story they were on trial for new contracts had worked and things were tense, thousands of pounds and lucrative allowances were at steak as far as they were concerned it was no walk in the park.

  Palmer showed the jockeys the gate and track, Blake noted the riding colours and accessed the net to check stables and probable mounts. Palmer recognised only one rider and horse English stayer Blue Moon winner of two grand nationals and a flyer over long distance with or without jumps. If Flaxmead could stay with this horse he was a champion. Other information from the net revealed the biggest horse to indeed be Texas sprinter and world record holder Winchester. The jockeys were American, English and German, Blake found them most annoying, demanding and was keen to get on with things. He wondered if Wilson Hornswaddle and Bartholomew Fothrington had actually planned the discomfort but he then thought better of the gesture, things are not always as they seem.

  Palmer had Kalika casually wait around Flaxmead and not mount him until the others were loading into the stalls; he made a habit of having her put her helmet on in front of him just prior to mounting. The painstaking lessons of cat and mouse trying to unnerve opponents before they had even stated running had begun. The jockeys finally broke after half an hour of waiting lowering the loading ramps either side of the trailer and leading their mounts towards the grass. Hildebrand assisted them to mount the magnificent steeds assembled and they warmed them up trotting along the short strait of the training track and back. Kalika's father gave her a nod to mount and Flaxmead stirred as she put on her helmet in front of him. She mounted with her fathers leg forming a step up on his knee and pulled the reins toward the grass, Flaxmead reared in front of the opposition but they had none of it becoming agitated themselves this appeared to make the young black stallion display even more pompous behaviour rearing up and screaming beside the opposition. Kalika struggled to control him behind the stalls as the three guests were led in by Hildebrand one by one. Palmer had Kalika dismount and mess with the bridle for no apparent reason annoying the loaded jockeys and mounts before she remounted and took the outside stall the three guests on the inner three.

  Flaxmead locked in and Palmer took the starting handle, light on, shouted Kalika, this dre
w the opponents concentration puzzled by the shout, the gates opened and Flaxmead bolted. He struggled to make up wide ground but by the first turn was a length clear and cut in to the rail turfing the opposition. Fifty seven seconds past the first marker Hildebrand stood like a statue with an emotionless look as Flaxmead pulled away from his trio. Half way round the second thousand Blue Moon pulled to the outside by her jockey crept passed the two stable mates and set after Flaxmead. Passed the thousand marker for a second time and Blue Moon sat on Flaxmead's heels but the black colt held the rail with clean precision. Two thousand five hundred and Blue Moon put her head level with Kalika's vision on the outside and she asked Flaxy to kick. "Go Flaxy go love." The young stallion found something in his giant heart pulling clear, Kalika's laughter from sheer delight seemed to spur him on and Flaxmead pulled three lengths on the greatest stayer in the land by the third time past the timing marker.

  Hildebrand stood between Palmer and Blake, he had not moved a muscle or said a word. His jockeys cantered the last thousand but Flaxmead thundered on rearing up in front of Hildebrand tossing his head and screaming when he reached them, he paraded round in circles. The trio of champions hesitated circling and jostling with each other intimidated by the colt blocking their exit. Flaxmead suddenly casually walked to the wash down pad and stood still allowing Kalika to slide from his back.

  Hildebrand looked to the sky. "Once in a life time you find a freak of nature bolstered by the hand of providence and in this case fused with pure arrogance. If he's body holds out he could be the greatest all rounder of out time."

  "He's not there yet, but he has the most potential I've ever seen," replied Palmer. "Can we run one more time in two hours, ask your jockey's to start wide and box him in."

  "That's a big ask and unusual. I get your drift, that's an awfully confident stallion he'll muscle his way out could be dangerous," said the Scott.

  "Horseracing is a dangerous sport like, your trio and jockeys are the best around I'm sure they know how to hold their ground. Flaxmead I'll have to read Kalika's voice and body language if he wants to win." said Palmer.

  "He won't like the idea of no free air in front of him that's for sure. Okay two hours."

  The quad of horse flesh mingled unwillingly in the wash bay and holding yards. Palmer spent all the time explaining how he thought the best way to have Flaxmead drop back and go wide. Not a recipe for success but if a horse could pull off a kick after loosing ground Flaxmead was a prime candidate, do it enough times and the opposition may expect it and leave a hole big enough to push thorough slowing to cover the move. Now was Flaxmead as smart as Palmer thought he was.

  The trio of Jockeys had attempted to shut the show down objecting to being guinea pigs. Hildebrand was forced to contact the powers to be and things were made clear to the spindly trio of protesters. They mounted their rides dead on time and locked in widest gates. Palmer got Kalika to dispense with the light warning in an attempt to slow Flaxmead out of the gate but to no avail. On the jump Flaxmead shot to the rail but the Texas sprinter Winchester just brushed passed him demonstrating why he was world record holder for the thousand and Flaxmead was forced to sit, before he could go wide the stayer Blue Moon closed the gate and Flaxmead was boxed in. The third horse a bay stallion thought to be cross country champion Lyndhurst tucked in behind and even after the Texas bullet slowed on the third lap. At two thousand five hundred metres it was nearly all over Kalika asked Flaxmead to drop back. Blue Moons jockey heard her yell and sit up he stoped brushing Blue Moons neck with his whip and the powerful stayer hesitated to cover Kalika's move. A half head hole appeared just to the right of Flaxmead's right eye and he powered past Winchesters right flank catching Kalika and Blue Moon by surprise. Kalika dropped her head below Flaxmead's ears and the trio didn't see which way the giant black colt went. The trio slowed and trotted into the yard as Flaxmead thundered past the thousand marker for the third time. For the first time Flaxmead slowed on the cool down lap and trotted to stand in front of Palmer. Palmer looked down in respect walking towards the wash down bay and the colt followed him.

  The lorry was loaded and prepared to leave. Hildebrand asked Blake when the young colt would be set loose at his first race meeting as he would like to be there. Hildebrand was shocked to hear Flaxmead would never run in the UK and when ready was destined for a race as far away as could be imagined. Hildebrand had a hunch bid everyone farewell leaving his contact details with Blake with strict instructions to summon him when the colt was to run no matter where it be. The hefty prime mover billowed black smoke as it laboured away kicking up dust from under its articulated trailer and headed for Edinburgh.