by P. C. Cast
Skye reached out hesitantly and rested her hand on Ghost’s back. She cleared her throat and then said, “Ghost, thank you for killing that snake. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to thank you. I do appreciate what you did, though, very much.”
The golden stallion lifted his head and nickered softly to Skye before closing his eyes again and resting against Anjo.
“He really is beautiful,” Skye said.
“Yes, he really is,” River agreed.
They worked on Ghost’s mane and tail for a time in easy silence. Though River had only been Lead Mare Rider for three months, she had already mastered the skill of patiently listening. It was one of her mother’s greatest strengths. River had grown up watching Dawn wait quietly for others to get their thoughts, and sometimes their courage, in order before speaking. So, River was utterly relaxed and enjoying the silence when Skye finally did speak.
“I wanted to warn you about Clayton.”
Skye’s words didn’t surprise River. She’d known Clayton a long time, and in that time she’d watched him change from a confident, friendly child into an arrogant, sullen young man.
The first two tenet laws of the Herd were: Never harm a horse, and Never harm a Rider. The penalty for breaking either law was to be banished from the Herd—but first a Rider had to be caught breaking the law and, unlike during the Mare Test, there would be no judges’ eyes watching and recording the happenings during the fifty long miles they would race that day.
It would be a prime opportunity for Clayton to attack Ghost or River—or both.
“You’re going to have to explain what you mean by that.” River kept her voice calm. She’d expected Clayton to cause trouble during the Run—the only thing she hadn’t expected was Skye to warn her about it.
The girl nodded and drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she spoke, and when she did, River heard tears in Skye’s voice.
“He says Ghost is his only real competition and he doesn’t think it’s fair that he’s running.”
“What Clayton thinks or doesn’t think about Ghost isn’t relevant,” River said, working hard to control the anger Skye’s words had begun to build within her. “The Mare Council decided it was up to me whether he competes or not. They support my choice to allow it.”
“I know that. Everyone does, even Clayton and the Riders who follow him—but they don’t agree with it. I heard them talking. Clayton told them he’s going to do whatever it takes to beat Ghost—even if that means hurting him.”
River’s hands stilled. “Then it’s not just Clayton. It’s those Riders, too.”
Skye nodded and wiped at her tears. “Most of the stallion Riders support you, except…” Her voice trailed off as if she couldn’t force herself to speak the terrible words.
So, River spoke them for her. “Except for the arrogant little group who worship Clayton. Does he have a specific plan? Do you know what he intends to do to Ghost?”
Skye sniffled and moved her shoulders restlessly. “The only thing I know for sure is that he’s going to try to make it look like an accident.”
“But that’s ridiculous. I’ll know it’s not an accident—and so will Ghost.”
When Skye didn’t say anything, River understood the awful truth.
“Clayton is going to be sure Ghost and I don’t survive the Run.”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Yes you do. You just don’t want to admit it.” River’s voice went hard. “What else do you not know? Even something small could help me.”
“He never talks with me about hurting Ghost and you. Everyone quiets when I’m near, but he’s been spending a lot of time out on the Plains—tracing every possible course the Run could follow.”
“So that he can plan several ways to get rid of us.”
Skye nodded. Then she continued. “What Clayton does talk about around me is what he intends to do if he and Bard aren’t able to get past Ghost.”
“By fairly beating him or killing him,” River added.
“Yes.” Skye wiped her tearstained face with her sleeve. “If he doesn’t win he has decided he is going to splinter the Herd.” Skye’s voice broke on the last word.
River nodded and continued to braid Ghost’s mane. “Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it.”
“You don’t seem surprised,” Skye said.
“Oh, I’m not. Skye, I spent my childhood with Clayton. We were as close as if he’d been my brother. I’ve always known he is capable of great good—and also of great selfishness, even cruelty. So, no, I’m not surprised that he’s willing to harm a stallion and cause his Lead Mare Rider to be killed. It is more proof of what I’ve come to believe over the past several years—that Clayton is unfit to serve this Herd in any capacity, but especially not as Herd Stallion Rider.”
“Then why haven’t you spoken against him?”
“For what? For acting like a petulant child? No, Skye, that would only give him the attention he so desperately craves. It would also fragment the Herd even more than he has already attempted to do. Until today I had no evidence that Clayton intended to break any of our laws.”
Skye’s gaze shot to River, the girl’s eyes wide with panic. “You’re not going to ban him from the Run, are you?”
“No, Skye, I am not. What I’m going to do is beat him. Soundly. In front of the entire Herd.”
“But then he’ll leave!”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“No, River!”
“Skye, why did you come to me? Why did you warn me and tell me what Clayton was planning?”
Skye bowed her head as she gently stroked the stallion’s silky coat. “Because I owe you and Ghost a debt. I’m not strong like you, but I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you and I hadn’t warned you.”
“But you expect me to, what? Allow Clayton, who is clearly a terrible choice for Herd Stallion Rider, to beat Ghost?” River asked incredulously.
“I—I don’t know,” Skye said.
“Listen to me, Skye. I will never allow Clayton to be Lead Stallion Rider of this Herd. Ever. And it is best if he and those who are of like mind with him leave our Herd. Actually, once the Run is over I’m going to insist on it.”
“You’ll allow them to form another branch of Herd Magenti?” Skye’s voice was suddenly lighter and filled with hope.
“No. Clayton will not be rewarded for the dissension he’s caused. If he does not willingly leave after he loses the Stallion Run, I will banish him. He will not be allowed to claim the name Magenti or wear the purple ever again.”
“It will break his heart,” Skye said.
“With his words he has already broken our most sacred tenets, and that means he surrenders the right to be part of Herd Magenti. He and his followers are free to begin their own Herd. Where they’ll find mares to follow them, I do not know. Let alone a Lead Mare Rider.”
When Skye said nothing, River studied her, and saw the girl’s unspoken response.
“You’re going with him,” River said.
“Yes.”
“Why? You don’t want to leave Herd Magenti. What will your mother say? And your sisters? How can you leave them? What does Scout say about this?”
“She keeps showing me terrible pictures. She doesn’t want us to go, and I don’t want to leave our Herd and my family. Oh, River, I wouldn’t have to if you would just grant Clayton the right to begin another branch of Magenti.”
River stopped braiding Ghost’s mane and took Skye’s cold hands in hers. She looked into the girl’s eyes and spoke slowly and clearly.
“I will never allow Clayton to carry our Herd’s name. And if he causes any kind of trouble I will hand him over to the Mare Council and tell them everything. I will tell them how he’s purposefully, spitefully sown discontent for years. I will tell them that he planned to fragment our Herd. I will tell them he was willing to kill a stallion and a Lead Mare Rider.”
Skye paled—she knew what that meant. T
he Mare Council was fair and merciful. They were also, every one of them, women who had served as Lead Mare Riders to their Herds, and when they learned a stallion Rider had been willing to murder one of their own, their retribution would be swift and brutal. Clayton would not live to see another sunrise.
“So, you need to be wise,” River continued. “Clayton will pay the consequences of his poor choices and, sadly, so will his stallion. I hope that your coming to me means that you will make a wiser choice.”
Skye pulled her hands from River’s. “You don’t understand, because you don’t love anyone.”
“That’s a lie. I love many people and horses. I love my Anjo, Ghost, Echo, April’s Deinos, and others. I love my mother, my sisters, my friends. Most important, I love my Herd. Do not believe for one instant that just because I have never fallen in love I do not understand love.”
“Then you should understand why I’ll be leaving with Clayton. I love him.”
“That’s not love, Skye. That’s need or obsession or even manipulation. Love doesn’t require you to betray your ideals. You said you’re not strong, but you could be—one step at a time. You took the first one coming to warn me tonight. Take the next by not following Clayton.”
Skye stood. “I need to leave. I’ve done what I had to do. You’ve been warned. My debt to you and to Ghost has been paid. If you repeat anything I told you, even if it’s to the Mare Council, I’ll deny it.” Then Skye hurried from River’s tent.
Anjo and Ghost lifted their heads the moment she was gone.
It seems she forgot we were here, too. Anjo’s voice was tinged with sarcasm. The Mare Council will always believe a Lead Mare and her Rider.
“Skye knows how idle her threats are. She just sees me through her own weakness. I don’t think she believes that I’ll survive the Run, and if I do she can’t imagine me standing against Clayton.”
Skye is very wrong.
Ghost snorted in disgust, then River moved aside so that both horses could stand. The stallion turned to her and rested his head against her chest.
Ghost will not let you down. He will be Herd Stallion by the end of today.
“I know he will, and he won’t have to cheat to win,” said River.
Never! said her mare.
“Never,” repeated River.
Ghost lifted his head and neighed a challenge.
“That probably woke up the entire herd,” said River as she smiled and stroked Ghost’s golden neck.
It is a stallion’s job to alert his Herd to coming danger.
“Yes, it is,” River said as she gazed into his intelligent eyes. “And it’s the Lead Mare Rider’s job to listen and heed his warning. That is exactly what I’m going to do today.”
* * *
“Are you sure you want to carry that extra weight?” April asked one last time before they left the tent to join the line of stallions and Riders waiting for sunrise and the signal for the Run to begin.
“I weigh half of what some of those other Riders weigh. And Anjo says Ghost isn’t bothered by the saddle pack at all,” River said, tying the last loop of the pack onto the back of Ghost’s saddle pad. “Also, I have no idea what Clayton is planning, so I need to be ready.” She patted the saddlebag that she’d filled with a water skin, dried fruit for her, and grain for Ghost—as well as an assortment of survival tools, like a knife, bandages, a leather throwing strap, and several light spears that were the perfect size to fit inside the pack, and a light blanket that rolled neatly and was easily strapped to the pack, along with everything she might need to make a fire. Lastly, she wrapped a lasso rope loosely around the wooden part of the saddle they called a horn.
“I still think you should call Clayton out before the Run. Tell Jasper. He’s still Herd Stallion Rider until sunset. It’s his job to keep our Herd safe, and that means especially our Lead Mare Rider. He could take him into custody until the Mare Council can decide what to do about his treachery.” April spoke in sentences clipped with anger.
“No. I’m handling it my way. I’m going to face him and beat him—and then, beaten, he will leave our Herd. His followers will all know he is not good enough to be our Herd Stallion Rider. Maybe that will wake some of them up. Maybe not. But either way Clayton needs to be defeated—publicly.”
“Anjo’s okay with this?” April asked, stroking the silver mare’s neck.
“Anjo and Ghost are in complete agreement with me. Clayton needs to be taught a lesson, and then he needs to leave Magenti forever.” River pulled her sister into her arms and hugged her tightly. “Trust me. Trust Ghost.”
“I do!” April clung to her. “I’m just scared.”
River let her go and grinned at her. “I’m not.”
Anjo stomped and Ghost snorted, tossing his head.
“Neither are they,” April said. She drew a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, Lead Mare Rider. But if something bad happens, know that Anjo and I will go to the Mare Council and tell them everything Skye said.”
“It won’t come to that, but thank you.”
“Anything for my big sister. Now, go get ’em!”
River turned to her mare and wrapped her arms around Anjo’s neck. “I love you. Watch the Herd while I’m gone.”
Be safe, my Rider. Bring home our Herd Stallion.
“I will!”
Then River went to Ghost. She stood at his side with her hand resting on his shoulder as she gazed up into his dark eye.
“I want you to know that I am very proud to be your Rider, even if it is only for one day.”
Ghost bent his head and nuzzled her, lipping her cheek gently and causing River to laugh. She kissed his muzzle affectionately before the stallion knelt so that she could mount. Once astride, River paused Ghost with pressure from her heels and pressed her hand over the center crystal of her grandmother’s amethyst necklace. The crystal warmed instantly, sending its soothing energy washing through River and Ghost. She felt the big stallion draw a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly, in perfect time with her.
Then April held aside the tent flap and River clucked to him. The stallion moved forward. The instant he was outside the tent his demeanor changed. Gone was the affable, sleepy stallion who had waited so patiently while his mane and tail were dressed with ribbons.
Ghost’s head lifted and his golden neck arched. At their side, Anjo did the same. River could only imagine how they must look to the Herd—a magnificent silver mare, dressed in purple ribbons, beside an equally spectacular golden stallion, also wearing Magenti purple and carrying the Lead Mare Rider of their Herd.
There was a large group waiting just outside River’s tent, and as she, Ghost, and Anjo appeared a cheer lifted from them.
“Ghost and River! Ghost and River!”
River’s heart swelled with pride and pleasure. She nodded and smiled at her people, appreciating the fact that again they all wore necklaces of amethyst to show their support for her. Then she squeezed slightly with her thighs. Ghost reacted on cue by surging into a gallop, which Anjo matched, stride for stride.
They wove their way through the purple tents. All along the path to the Choosing Theater Herd Magenti cheered them, leaving their tents to run after as they chanted, “Ghost and River! Ghost and River!”
Closer to the Choosing Theater the color of the tents changed. River easily counted at least one tent from each of the other four Herds: Virides, Cinnabar, Indigo, and Jonquil. Unlike the Mare Test, stallions from any of the Herds were welcome to join the Run, and though many of the tents were filled with spectators from other Herds curious to watch the only Stallion Run wherein a horse ridden by a Lead Mare Rider competed, many stallions from other Herds had entered the Run as well.
Wow, that’s a lot of Riders, River thought as they galloped to the Choosing Theater and she got her first glimpse of the racers, who were all lined up at the start. The predominant color worn was purple, but there was also at least one stallion from each of the other Herds, creating a symphony o
f color and beauty.
They honor us. Many wish to be our Herd Stallion. They will learn respect for our Ghost when he defeats every one of them. Go make me proud, my beloved Rider.
“Count on it!” River told Anjo. Then she cued Ghost.
Ghost’s neck arched even more. His tail went up and he lifted his legs like he was plowing through the mud trap. Moving with incredible grace and strength, the stallion entered the Choosing Theater, sounding a neigh that declared to every Herdmember present his intent to win the Run. An answering roar went up from the spectators. River didn’t know if that greeting was for her, or for the novelty of a horse labeled a rogue stallion being ridden in the Run.
The reason does not matter, her mare’s wise voice lifted through her mind from where Anjo had taken position beside April and Deinos in the viewing stands. They will all cheer both of you when you return victorious.
Ghost snorted and tossed his head in agreement, and River bared her teeth in a fierce smile.
Before them, two stallions made room for Ghost in the middle of the line. River had time to gaze down the long line of stallion-Rider teams. She counted quickly, though she already knew a record-breaking twenty-five horses raced that day.
The first team that caught her eye was Clayton and Bard. They were only four teams to her right—and flanked by his toadies on lesser stallions. River ignored the wannabes and focused on Clayton and Bard. The jolt of shock River felt at how thin Clayton looked made her realize that this was the closest she’d been to her childhood friend since the day she’d announced she and Ghost would compete. Unlike his Rider, Bard was in peak shape, prancing in place and blowing through his nose. Against the black of his shining coat, the purple Herd Magenti ribbons looked beautiful.
I hope Bard enjoys them. Because of his Rider’s choices it will be the last time he’ll be allowed to wear the purple, River thought—and the warmth that filled her from her watching mare echoed that thought.
Clayton tried to catch River’s gaze, but she looked away, her lip lifted in a dismissive sneer. She kept scanning the line, looking for the other stallion teams she knew would be her toughest competition.
