by P. C. Cast
“What does the dove symbolize?”
The words came to River without her being conscious of thinking them. “Freedom and love.”
“Huh. I didn’t realize that’s what doves symbolized,” April said as she turned to Anjo and started painting her hip with thick purple dye.
“I’m not sure if doves symbolize that to everyone, but to me they definitely do.” River bent to begin wrapping Anjo’s legs as the image of a sweet, eyeless dove filled her mind.
* * *
April had been right. River decided she and Anjo did look incredible as they pranced through the camp, making their way to the starting line of the Mare Test. The entire Herd was already there, waiting and watching expectantly. A huge shout and cheer went up as a team took their position on the starting line. River was able to get a glimpse of who it was, and her stomach roiled when she realized it was Alani and her magnificent buckskin mare, Doe, they were cheering.
“I knew it. They’re probably the strongest team here,” River muttered, more to herself than aloud.
Walking beside her with her yearling, April whispered to her sister, “No, you and Anjo are the strongest team here, and you’re from our Herd—not a stranger’s.”
River gave her sister a side look. “Herd Magenti East aren’t strangers.”
“Well, they also aren’t us. You’re the best of us, and the best of us is going to win today.”
April is wise, Anjo’s confident voice rang through River’s mind.
“You’re right. She is.” River reached forward and stroked the side of her mare’s neck affectionately.
“Who is what?” April asked.
“Anjo said you’re wise, and I agreed.” She smiled at her sister. “And you’re right, too. I am the best of us, and I need to remember that part of being a Lead Mare Rider is confidence. I didn’t lack it before today—and I’m not going to start lacking it now.”
April’s grin blazed. “There’s the sister I know!”
Another cheer lifted from the starting line.
“Can you see who that is?” April asked.
“It’s Skye and Scout.”
April shook her head. “No wonder the cheer wasn’t very loud. The only people who want her to win are Clayton and his friends.”
River lifted her chin. “She’s not going to win.” She gazed at the crowd. There were more people there than River had expected. She saw a lot of Riders from the other branches of Herd Magenti, as well as clusters of people and horses—mostly stallions—wearing the colors of other Herds.
River understood why, and she should have expected it. Only members of Herd Magenti could compete for Lead Mare and Rider, but any stud horse over the age of three could compete for Herd Stallion—he and his Rider didn’t need to be from Herd Magenti. Of course there are strangers and their stallions here. They want to see who will win, and whether they join the competition for Herd Stallion and Rider will depend on if they approve of the winner.
They will approve of us. There will be many stallions competing on the last day of summer, Anjo said, sounding a little snobbish, though it made River smile. Then her mare added, But Ghost could beat them all—and he should.
River didn’t respond. She agreed with her mare about Ghost. He was growing into an exceptional stallion.
But he didn’t have a Rider, and River wasn’t convinced allowing him to join the Stallion Run would be the best thing for Herd Magenti—even if the Mare Council agreed to allow her to ride him during the competition.
A flash of gold caught River’s eye, and she saw Ghost standing on a little rise behind the bulk of the crowd. He tossed his head and reared.
Ghost sends us a mare’s luck, Anjo said.
I’ll take all the luck we can get.
The space before them opened to show the starting line. There were twelve teams entered in the Mare Test, and River quickly counted that eleven of them were there already. Some of the mares were prancing restlessly, but they were younger horses. Doe and the older mares waited calmly, with their ears pricked, saving their energy.
Dawn on her Echo had taken position in front of the starting line, facing the contestants. River knew the moment Echo spotted Anjo. The Lead Mare lifted her head, and neighed a welcome.
“Mother can’t show favoritism, but Echo definitely can,” River said.
Echo shows us great respect by welcoming us, Anjo said.
April touched her sister’s leg. “I want you to look at the crowd. Everyone who is wearing an amethyst necklace is doing so in support of you. I would’ve told you before, but the Herd wanted to surprise you. Be smart. Be safe. And may a mare’s luck be with you, Riv.”
River squeezed her sister’s hand. “Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you right back. Now, go win this Test and take the place that is meant to be yours in our Herd.”
“Anjo, let’s show them that we’re worthy of leading Herd Magenti.”
Anjo’s tail lifted and she trotted forward, picking her hooves up as if she were in the mud trap, arching her neck, and neighing an answering greeting to her Lead Mare. River sat deep in the trail saddle she’d chosen to use for the Test. It was lightweight—really not much more than a blanket pad with a horn and stirrups, with a saddle pack strapped behind it. The pad would make the daylong ride more comfortable for Anjo, and the stirrups would help River keep her seat if she had to ask Anjo to go up and down steep ridges, or over jumps.
As soon as the crowd caught sight of the silver mare prancing to the starting line, a great cheer sounded, startling River with its passion and intensity. Her eyes scanned the crowd of smiling, happy faces, and she was deeply moved by how much amethyst she saw winking at her from around the necks of her Herd.
They support us! Anjo didn’t sound as surprised as River felt, but equally pleased.
Then let’s show them we appreciate their support! River silently communicated with her mare.
Yes! Let’s!
River knew her mare well enough to grip her with her thighs, which was a good thing because Anjo reared, pawing the air cheekily as River waved to the cheering crowd.
Then Anjo pranced into the only open position left and River met her mother’s gaze. She knew she would never forget the unspoken emotions that passed between them in that moment. She saw her mother’s love—and beyond that River saw her pride and her confidence. And she hoped that her mother could see just as clearly the love and gratitude within River’s gaze.
Dawn raised one hand, and the Herd went silent.
“Today, on the last day of spring in this year that Echo and I step down as your Lead Mare-and-Rider team, I am gratified to see such a strong group of Candidates. Twelve teams! With representation from Herd Magenti East.” Dawn paused as a cheer went up from Herd East visitors. “And Herd Magenti West.” Another cheer. “As well as Herd Magenti South.” Clapping and whoops drifted across the prairie. “Herd Magenti North.” More clapping. “And our own Herd Magenti Central!” The Rendezvous Site exploded in whistles and cheers and applause. But one lifted hand from their Lead Mare Rider, and the exuberant crowd fell into a watching silence again.
“When Echo and I began the Test we ran against five other teams. The fact that there are twelve worthy pairs before me illustrates the prosperity and strength of all branches of Herd Magenti.” The crowd roared their agreement. “I know whoever is named your Lead Mare-and-Rider team at the end of this day will continue to strengthen and grow our Herd, and will lead us into another era of prosperity.” Dawn met River’s gaze and smiled. “I feel nothing but excitement about our future.”
After the crowd quieted, Dawn faced the line of Riders and mares. She had a purple flag in her hand that bore the standard of Herd Magenti, which was a cluster of crystals embroidered so that the threads glistened.
“Your first Test is a race. Bitter Creek is five miles from this spot. Unlike the rest of the course, here each team is free to find their own way to the creek.”
River f
elt the jolt of surprise that went through Anjo. None of the Riders had known where the Test would begin until then, and relief flooded River.
We know the best way to get to Bitter Creek! Anjo communicated silently to her Rider, tossing her head with pleasure.
Good thing you like swimming! River had to work at not cheering and reminded herself to focus through her excitement on her mother’s instructions.
“At Bitter Creek you will face your second Test, and from there you must follow the marked course. There will be decisions you must make today—as a team. My advice is to choose with wisdom and compassion—and to choose quickly. Finishing first will not assure your place as Lead Mare and Rider, but the Mare Council will seriously consider it as they tally the points you earn today during this amazing event we call our Mare Test.
“Stationed throughout the course will be members of the Mare Council. Some of them you will see, but many of them you will not. Just know that the Councilmembers will be judging each team.
“Do not forget that it is tradition that there is a two-mile sprint at the end of the course. There will be a black flag marking the beginning of the sprint, and another marking off the first mile. For that first mile it is expected that all Riders dismount and race beside their mares. The second black flag you see will mark the beginning of the second mile. You may remount then and race for the finish line, where I will be waiting to greet you.
“Riders, the year I won the Mare Test there was one fatality during the competition, and another mare was permanently lamed. The course is dangerous. Never forget that. Remember, you cannot be Lead Mare and Rider if you do not survive today.
“If you have not crossed the finish line before the sun sinks below the horizon, you will be disqualified from the Test. Are there any questions?”
River wanted to shout, Yes! What can we expect? Should Anjo and I be conservative in our choices today? Should we be reckless and just get across the finish line first? Help! What should we do?
We should be ourselves—wise, strong, and bold, came her mare’s serene reply. We are the best team for Herd Magenti. We will win.
River stroked Anjo’s neck. You’re right. We can do this—together.
“When I drop this flag your Test begins. I wish blessings on each of you from the Great Mother Mare.” Dawn’s gaze found River again. “And may a mare’s luck be with she who is to be our new leader.”
Echo spun around so that her back was to the line of contestants. The beautiful mare had known almost twenty winters, but she moved like a filly. Her muscles rippled under her shining coat as she sprinted forward. Her white mane was dressed in purple ribbons that perfectly matched her Rider’s—and that also was the same color as the huge amethyst crystal that hung from around Dawn’s neck, silently showing support for her beloved daughter. Echo slid to a stop. Dawn raised her hand overhead and the purple flag whipped in the wind. Then, just as the sun broke above the horizon, the Lead Mare Rider dropped the flag—signaling the beginning of the Mare Test.
Anjo surged forward with the other eleven pairs. She and River had already decided how they were going to begin the race—not in the lead, but also not trotting away last. As expected, Alani and her buckskin mare raced to the lead, setting a pace that would be impossible to keep up for more than a quarter of a mile or so, but they had the crowd cheering in appreciation of the mare’s speed.
River was surprised to see Luce and Blue keep pace with Alani and Doe, and behind them less than a mare’s body length were Skye and Scout.
They waste energy to show off. None of them would be adequate Lead Mares or Riders, Anjo said smugly as she galloped in the middle of the rest of the contestants, lengthening her stride and breathing easily.
After about one mile the teams started to spread out. No matter how well conditioned, some mares would always be faster than others—and it only took the opening sprint to begin to weed out those who did not have speed from those who did.
Alani and Doe were still in the lead, though River had lost sight of them. She also didn’t see Luce and Blue, but Skye and Scout had dropped back far enough that they were visible. There was one pair between them and Skye, a strong team from Herd Magenti West, Daisy and her eight-year-old mare, Strawberry, whose red roan coat was unmistakable.
Behind them the rest of the contestants spread out in a loose line. The closest were galloping easily like Anjo, but several of the other teams had dropped down to a canter, and when River glanced behind her she could just see that there were a few teams trotting in the rear.
“I don’t blame them for saving their energy,” River told Anjo.
They are not as well conditioned as I am, nor as fast, came her mare’s arrogant, but true response.
Ahead of them River watched Skye and Scout veer sharply to the left, and then Daisy and Strawberry followed them.
“Straight on,” River said.
I know. I like where we are going.
“Sometimes I think you’re more fish than horse,” River teased.
Anjo snorted. Do those behind us follow or veer?
River watched over her shoulder as Anjo continued her ground-eating gallop. “More than half of them veered. Most left, but some right.”
Good.
“Left or right, they’re going around the lake. That’s going to put them behind us. Let’s slow to a canter. Save your strength for the swim.”
Anjo dropped to a canter and then a swift, but restful trot that ate up the remaining miles, which brought them to one of their favorite summer cooling-off spots, Willow Lake. For the past three summers River and Anjo had been enjoying the deep, spring-fed waters, which remained cool even when the prairie turned brown from unrelenting heat and rainless days.
“Straight across,” River said.
Of course. We have no time for play today. Lift the saddlebags or my mash will be ruined.
“Oh, that’s right. Thanks for reminding me.” River turned and quickly pulled the tie that held the saddlebags and shifted them so that they rested up on Anjo’s neck.
As the mare entered the water River kicked out of the stirrups, so that as soon as Anjo began swimming she slipped into the water beside her mare, careful to stay away from her pumping legs and hooves while she held on to her mane, swimming with her and keeping the saddlebags in place above the waterline.
Willow Lake was not huge, probably only a couple miles wide, but it was also not simply a pond—and it was deep. As the team moved out into the middle of the cool water, River spotted another team leaving the lake. Even wet, the grulla’s distinctive coloring was impossible to miss.
“I see Luce and Blue in front of us, but not far.”
Alani and Doe must be in front of them.
“Unless they chose to go around the lake.”
They are too experienced for that—whether Doe likes to swim or not. Though I do not understand why she would not like to swim. It is quite nice.
“Water horse,” River said affectionately. “But I agree with you. I like to swim, too.”
Almost at the bank. You should mount.
River slid back into the saddle, holding the saddlebags up and dry. As soon as Anjo was on dry land she turned and hastily refastened the bags. “Ready!”
Anjo sped off, taking an easy curve to the right, which led to a steep climb up the side of a ridge. The mare didn’t hesitate but attacked the ridge, moving fast, but holding her head low so that she could pick her way around rocks and holes. When they reached the summit they paused for an instant and could see that Luce and Blue had already made their way to the bottom and were approaching Bitter Creek.
River blinked sweat from her eyes so that she could be sure she was seeing correctly—and she was.
“Anjo, we don’t get to swim the creek. They’ve built a bridge over it.”
The mare snorted and tossed her head. I do not like bridges.
“You don’t have to like it. You just have to cross it. Let’s get down there. Luce and Blue are almo
st to it already.”
River leaned back, balancing carefully and being sure she wasn’t a hindrance to Anjo as the mare sat on her hocks, sliding most of the way down the steep ridge. They galloped abruptly to the right to arrive at the newly built bridge just as Luce was taking her shirt off Blue’s head and remounting her mare on the other side. Luce turned her head to glance behind, and her eyes widened at the sight of River and Anjo. She cued her mare and the two sprinted away.
River kneed Anjo to the bridge. The creek wasn’t wide—more of a stream really—and except for climbing up and down very steep banks, crossing it would have been nothing for Anjo. But during the past month the Mare Council had been secretly building the Mare Test course, and this bridge was brand-new. It was a suspension bridge, swaying gently in the wind. About the width of a horse, wood planks made the floor of it. The sides were completely open except for a single rope on either side at about the height of Anjo’s chest.
Looks like it will fall.
“I can dismount and cover your head with my shirt like Luce did for Blue and lead you across.”
Do you think it will fall? asked her mare. Anjo didn’t feel frightened to River, just concerned.
“No,” she said firmly. “I know it won’t. The Mare Council wouldn’t build the bridge if it could break and hurt one of us. That’s not what this Test is about.”
If you trust it—I trust it.
And just like that Anjo stepped out onto the bridge. She took her time crossing it, but the mare didn’t falter. She didn’t spook. She remained as true and steady as her trust in her Rider.
When they reached the other side River threw her arms around Anjo’s neck. “You did great! You’re perfect!”
Let us get away from here. I do not like bridges. Especially bridges that move.
“There! I see the purple ribbon on the tree. We need to take the trail to the left.”
There is no trail to the left. Only another ridge with trees.
“I think that’s the point. Let’s go, but not too fast. We have to follow the ribbons because from here until the finish line the Council is taking us through the badlands, and that’s not a territory any of us knows.”
