Destiny and Stardust. Stacy Gregg

Destiny and Stardust - Stacy  Gregg


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the point where the track finally veered away from the forest and travelled down into the farmland and Issie breathed a sigh of relief. “See, Blaze? No big, bad kitty chasing us this time,” she said, giving her pony a pat on the neck.

      As the track into the farmland flattened out, Issie pushed the mare into a canter and stood up in her stirrups as Blaze fell into a steady, swift stride. They cantered on like this for a long time and by the time they slowed back down to walk again Issie could see the peak of the green hills that surrounded Lake Deepwater in the distance.

      On the lake ridge Issie pulled Blaze to a halt. The Blackthorn Ponies were there, just where she had seen them last time, grazing peacefully. Issie held Blaze back for a moment, uncertain what to do next. She didn’t want to startle the herd and risk a stampede. Perhaps if she rode around to the far side of the lake where the blackthorn thicket grew she could sneak up on them under the cover of the trees.

      She turned Blaze around now and rode back out of sight of the herd, down the slopes away from the lake, circling around the ridge. As they reached the point where Issie figured the blackthorn trees must be she rode Blaze back up over the crest of the hill so that they were looking down on the lake once more. The herd were still grazing happily. They had no idea that Issie was stalking them. Issie held Blaze still as she counted the horses – the buckskins and bays, pintos and greys – “…twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…” She smiled at the two foals frisking along beside their mothers. “…and the foals make twenty-nine, thirty!”

      Suddenly the peaceful scene was disturbed by the shrill whinny of a horse. Issie looked up along the ridge. The stallion! Issie had been wondering where he was. She held her breath and tried to keep a grip on the reins as Blaze danced and pulled beneath her. The mare wanted to run. Issie knew how she felt. She was scared too. And there was time to run now, before the stallion came too close. This time, though, something told Issie that she should hold her ground.

      The stallion’s stride ate up the ground as he cantered swiftly towards them. He was just a few metres away – closer than the last time they had met – when he stopped dead in front of them. He was so close that Issie could see his flanks quivering with nerves. The stallion let out a deep snort and shook his head, but instead of charging at them as he had done last time he stepped backwards, as if uncertain what to do next.

      Issie realised now that it was fear, not hatred, that had driven him to attack them when they met last time. As far as the black horse was concerned, they were strangers – they were a threat. Even now, the stallion was deciding if it was safe to be this close or if he should gather his herd and run.

      Issie ran a hand down Blaze’s neck. The mare was shaking with tension. Issie murmured softly to her horse now, trying to soothe her. “Easy, girl, be nice, let’s see if we can make friends, eh?”

      The stallion took another step forward then stretched out his strong, elegant neck and greeted Blaze nose-to-nose. But Blaze wasn’t so sure she wanted to make friends. She gave a tempestuous squeal and lashed out viciously at the black horse with her front leg.

      “Hey, hey, girl, it’s OK,” Issie kept speaking gently to her horse.

      Blaze seemed to listen to Issie’s soothing tone because she let the stallion touch noses with her again and this time she didn’t strike out.

      And then the penny dropped. Issie had ridden out here on a whim to save these ponies, and here she was, so close to the stallion. Wouldn’t Aunty Hess be thrilled? she thought to herself, if Blaze and I could bring him home to her? After all, hadn’t Aunty Hess been convinced that the black horse was the son of Avignon, her own beloved Swedish Warmblood? If Issie was going to save just one horse from this herd, if that was all she could do, then it had to be this horse. She knew that now.

      As the big black drew in close again, trying to touch noses with Blaze once more, Issie saw her chance. She unhooked the rope attached to the halter on her saddle and leant over to slip it gently, carefully over his neck. Nearly there, nearly… Issie held her breath as she leant in closer to the black horse. The stallion kept a wary eye on Issie but he didn’t flinch.

      “Steady, boy, it’s OK,” Issie said. Suddenly the stallion felt the rope against his neck and realised what was happening. He startled backwards and Issie, who had been intent on her mission, found herself losing her balance. As she made a grab for Blaze’s mane to keep herself from falling she felt herself lose her hold on the halter and it slipped out of her hands and fell to the ground.

      “Damn,” she cursed under her breath. She had no choice but to dismount and get it back.

      Carefully, slowly, Issie climbed off Blaze’s back, trying not to spook the black horse with any sudden movements as she dismounted and edged over to pick up the halter lying in the grass. All the while as she moved, she kept talking to the stallion, her voice steady and low. For a moment, the horse stood there calmly, his ears swivelling as he listened to her. Then, suddenly, he decided that he had had enough. He backed away from Issie and Blaze, wheeled about and set off at a gallop towards the herd.

      At the same moment Issie, who had been preoccupied with trying to reach the halter, realised she was no longer holding on to Blaze’s reins.

      “Blaze!” Issie leapt forward and made a grasp at the reins, but Blaze was spooked now. She backed away from her, confused and panic-stricken. Issie lunged once more in a last desperate attempt to catch her horse as Blaze snorted in surprise and then turned and broke into a canter, following the stallion across the tussock grass, heading towards the herd.

      “Blaze! No!” Issie’s voice was a rasp in her throat as she shouted desperately after the mare.

      Issie began to run after her, but the sudden movement of the two horses had frightened the rest of the wild herd and now they too began to scatter. As Issie sprinted across the tussock grass she found herself surrounded by Blackthorn Ponies, all of them in a blind panic. The herd were on the move and none of them wanted to be left behind.

      Issie had been worried about Blaze but now she found herself fighting for her own life as she was forced to duck and weave her way through the panicky herd. The ponies seemed to be all around her now and they were in a frenzy, not knowing or caring that they might run over the girl who was in their path. Issie let out a shriek as a little bay pony narrowly missed colliding with her and she had to make a leap to get out of the way in time. As she did so she lost her footing and stumbled on a rock. She crouched down, instinctively curling into a tight ball, and managed somehow to wedge herself into the small hollow beside a large rock. The next thing she knew there was a rush of air and noise overhead and the sky above her became a thrashing, boiling mess of hooves as the herd came right over the top of her. Issie squealed and put her hands over her head. The noise around her was deafening.

      By the time Issie was sure it was safe to stand up again the ponies were miles away and running up the ridge that led away from the lake. She had lost sight of Blaze completely. Where was she?

      Issie held her breath and scanned the horizon, her heart beating like a drum in her chest. Where was her horse?

      There! Blaze was running right near the front of the herd. Issie could see her flaxen mane and tail streaming out in the wind, her head held high as she galloped. Suddenly Blaze stopped, wheeled about and looked back towards the lake. She seemed to be searching anxiously, as if she knew she was lost and she was trying to find Issie again.

      “Blaze!” Issie called out. “I’m over here! Blaze!” She cupped her hands to her mouth and whistled, but she was drowned out by the shrill call of the black stallion as he galloped up the ridge behind the mares, driving his herd on, forcing them over the crest of the hill.

      “Blaze!” Issie called out desperately again. It was no good. Blaze had turned away already. Issie watched helplessly as the horses disappeared over the rise of the hill.

      “Blaze!” she cried out again, but she knew it was futile. The sound of hoofbeats was so distant now she could barely hear them. The wild ponies were gone – and Blaze had gone with them.

      Issie stared at the ridge for a long time after that, unable


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