Mystic and Blaze. Stacy Gregg
slope to the trees and the girls trotted down until they reached the path into The Pines. “Ready to canter?” Stella shouted back as she kicked Coco on, leaning forward and standing up in her stirrups so that her weight was out of the saddle.
Issie waited for Coco and Toby to go on ahead before clucking Blaze on to canter. But the mare was suddenly struck with fear at being left behind by her new friends. When Issie urged her on into a gentle canter, she sprang forward as if she was a racehorse in a starting gate, not at a canter, but in full gallop.
“Blaze, stop it, girl! No!” Issie pulled back hard on the reins, but Blaze was having none of it. She had set the bit between her teeth and was off.
At a canter The Pines were easy enough to ride through, but at full gallop with no saddle? Impossible. Worse still, as Blaze strained against the reins, her speed increasing, she began to gain quickly on the horses ahead of her. There was no way the path was wide enough for Blaze to pass the other horses – she would crash into them for sure.
“Out of the way!” Issie yelled to the riders ahead of her. “Blaze is out of control. She won’t stop!”
In front of her, Kate and Stella had heard the sound of hoofbeats before they even heard Issie’s cries. Now, they urged their horses on. There was no room for them to pull over to the side of the path, and no time to stop. The best option was to ride hard and try to make it to the opening at the other end of The Pines before Issie caught up with them.
The fiery Arab was still ignoring Issie’s attempts to slow her down, lost in the pleasure of her own speed. Her strides ate up the ground in front of her, and she was gaining quickly on Toby and Coco.
“Whoa now, girl!” Issie fought to keep her balance and grabbed up a handful of mane with the reins, pulling back as hard as she could. Blaze gave a rebellious snort and kept on running. In front of her, Coco was heaving with the effort of keeping up the pace, her coat flecked with sweat.
At a gallop the three horses emerged from the pine trees into the green clearing on the other side, and as Toby and Coco moved quickly out of the way Blaze powered forward, still in full gallop.
It wasn’t until Issie had reached the far end of the paddock that she was finally able to slow the mare down a little, first to a canter, then a trot and finally a gentle jog. Even though her sides were heaving from the run, Issie had to keep a tight hold on her horse to stop her from bolting off again.
“Steady, girl, good girl, Blaze,” she breathed, her arms trembling from the effort of hanging on to the reins. Her heart was beating like a drum in her ears.
“That was amazing!” Kate yelled out as she rode towards her. “I’ve never seen a horse run like that. Toby’s an ex-racehorse and Blaze even gave him a run for his money.”
“Good on you for staying on her back at that speed!” Stella was obviously impressed. Issie, however, was less pleased.
“This is the second time she’s got away on me.” Issie was shaking. “I just can’t control her. It’s like she goes crazy the minute I get on her back.”
Issie had been expecting sympathy from her friends, so she was shocked when Stella barked at her instead, “You’re being silly, Issie! Everyone knows you’re a natural rider. That’s why Avery chose you to take Blaze on. OK, so she’s being difficult. I’m sure all she needs to sort her out is a little bit of proper schooling. Talk to Tom. After all, he gave her to you. So why don’t you ask him for a little help?”
Stella was right, of course. Issie had been trying to struggle on alone. What she really needed was some advice. “I’ll ask Tom if he’ll meet me at the paddock one day next week when the holidays have started to give me a hand.” Issie nodded. “He’ll know what to do.”
Still, deep-down she doubted that anyone could really help her ride this spirited mare. Was Blaze too much horse for her to handle?
In the darkness of her bedroom that night, Issie had the dream again. It always began in the same way. The rhythmic sound of hoofbeats seemed to thunder out from the blackness and then the horse appeared like a silver mist in the gloom. As he came closer Issie could make out the misty outline of his body, the proud arch of his neck crested with a thick mane, and the long sweep of his elegant silver tail which trailed almost to the ground. The horse gave a soft nicker and came closer. He was just a few metres away now and Issie could see him clearly at last. It was Mystic. His dark-rimmed eyes looked at Issie intently and he was still for a moment. Then he pawed the ground and gave an agitated shake of his mane, before breaking into a high-stepping trot and heading straight for her.
Mystic came to an abrupt stop right in front of Issie. She reached out a hand to touch him, but before she could get near enough Mystic went up, rearing on his hind legs so that his front hooves thrashed the air above her. At the same time he let out a terrible long, low squeal – the noise a stallion might make if he was rounding up his herd against danger. It was a sound so deep and piercing that it woke Issie up with a start. She sat bolt upright in bed, her heart racing, her pyjamas damp with sweat.
Even now, wide awake, she could still hear Mystic’s shrill squeal ringing in her ears. And then she heard something else. Not a squeal, but the drumming of hoofbeats. It sounded to Issie as if the noise were coming from just outside her bedroom window. Without hesitating she leapt up and raced to pull back the curtains, squinting out into the darkness.
She stood quietly at the window and held her breath as she tried hard to listen again. Nothing. The night air was completely still. Her eyes had adjusted now and she could see that the back yard was empty. Reluctantly, Issie let the curtain drop from her hand, moved away from the window and slipped back under the covers and into bed. It was all a dream, she told herself. But as she drifted back off to sleep she could have sworn she still heard the sound of hoofbeats somewhere out there in the darkness.
“Why, Issie! She’s looking brilliant, isn’t she?” Avery was obviously thrilled at the sight of the chestnut mare.
Blaze was a different horse from the one that had arrived at the River Paddock one late spring morning. She had blossomed under Issie’s tender care. She had put on condition so that her ribs no longer stood out so much, and her liver chestnut coat, previously patchy and dull, had been groomed until it gleamed like precious metal.
“I’ve been giving her a mix of oats, crushed barley and chaff to fatten her up a bit, and a dose of linseed oil to put a shine on her coat,” Issie said proudly.
“Fantastic!” Avery enthused as he ran a hand over Blaze’s rump, checking on her condition. “Well done. But I can see why this mare has been giving you trouble. Arabs are notoriously hotheaded sorts, and if this girl has been getting pepped up on a diet of oats and the like she’s probably got too much energy for her own good. Now that she’s in better shape we’ll have to cut out the oats to calm her down.
“Now,” Avery said, looking around, “let’s get started. Where’s your gear?” Issie reminded Avery that her saddle had been destroyed in the accident with Mystic. “Well,” Avery considered, “not to worry. We won’t be needing a saddle for this lesson anyway.” He cast a glance at his watch. “At least you’re here,” he grumbled and reached out a hand to give Issie a leg up. “Where are the other two? I told them to be here at precisely two o’clock—”
The sound of hooves on gravel interrupted him.
“Wait for us!” squeaked Kate, trotting briskly along the road towards the fields.
“We’re really sorry we’re late!” Stella added. Her chubby little mare was heaving with the effort of keeping up with Kate’s rangy Thoroughbred.
“Well, it looks like you’ve more than warmed these two up,” Avery snapped. “Come on then. Let’s spend a few minutes in the arena getting them to accept the bit and then we’ll pop them over a few jumps