A Blood Red Horse Read Online Free PDF Page A

Peter,” commanded Keeper John. “If Master William likes him, he may take him to the castle today.”
    It was as William turned to leave the barn that he caught sight of the tops of two ears in the stall at the end. They looked so like Sacramenta’s ears that for a moment he thought that Hal must have led her inside to give her some shade.
    â€œWhat’s in there?” he asked.
    â€œOh,” said Keeper John, “a fine little courser. Three years old. Actually, he is your Sacramenta’s last foal. He had a bad beginning, poor fellow, and is proving difficultto train. Pity he is so small. He was bred to be a Great Horse, but can’t quite make the size.”
    The bay horse was being backed out of his stall, but something made William hesitate. He patted it, then, more out of curiosity than anything else, walked quickly back to see Sacramenta’s foal.
    The stallion was liver chestnut, almost red, the unusual color unbroken except for a small white star between his eyes. His mane and tail being exactly the same color as his coat seemed to flow out from his body, and his slender legs reminded William of a fallow deer. The horse’s eyes were luminous and reflective, his muzzle slightly darker than the rest of him. Larger than Sacramenta but considerably smaller than the bay now waiting for William to mount, he looked at the boy without blinking.
    â€œHello, horse,” said William, and, putting out his hand to touch the silken neck, was suddenly lost for words.

4
    â€œMaster William, the chestnut is a fine animal, but this is silly,” said Keeper John. “You came for a Great Horse, and you told me you wanted to be sensible. If I send you back with a courser, your father will think that you are a fool and that I have gone mad.”
    It was afternoon. Hal and Sir Walter had resigned themselves to a long wait. Sir Walter had given up arguing: William really was an impossible boy.
    He had ridden the bay, which had performed splendidly. Out in open country he had tried some mock battle tactics, held a lance, galloped with an unsheathed sword, and even jumped a stream or two. The bay did all that was asked and more, even though William did look—what was the phrase Gavin had used?—a bit like a flea on a dragon. But never mind that. The boy would grow into him. Then just as all seemed settled, William took a notion to ride Sacramenta’s foal.
    The elegant chestnut horse was brought out. He was clearly far too small for a destrier, but William insisted. The boy mounted, even though Keeper John had warned him that the horse was far from safe. And so it proved. Within moments William was on the floor. Then, ofcourse, he had to remount. And there they had all been for an hour or more while William battled to stay on this red stallion, who seemed intent on breaking all the boy’s bones. Keeper John and Sir Walter advised remaining in the paddock. But William, puce in the face, was having none of that. So opening the gate, he had remounted for a fifth or sixth time and set the horse’s face toward the horizon.
    What happened next, Sir Walter could not quite say. But when William had urged the horse on, instead of plunging about, he had suddenly begun to move forward. William asked for a canter. The horse hesitated, then, suddenly, lowered his head and obeyed. For the next twenty minutes or so, William and the horse were as one. Seldom had so graceful a sight been seen at the de Granville stud. At the gallop the horse seemed to float. When William jumped the paddock rails, all the grooms in the place stopped work to look. By the time he pulled the horse up, both Sir Walter and Keeper John, their hearts sinking, could see what had happened. The boy had fallen for a stallion that was, in every way, completely unsuitable.
    So here they were, arguing. Both the bay and the chestnut were back in their stalls, and William was standing, immovable, in the barn