Page 136 of Wind Rider

First came Cali. Her mare, Vixen, was not with her, and the young Rider looked pale. She placed a big wooden cup full of fresh spring water before River.

“I heard what happened out there. Luce told me. And I thought you might like some water,” she said shyly.

“Thank you, that’s nice of you, Cali. How is Vixen? I thought I saw that she’d injured one of her hocks.”

“Yes, her hock is wounded. We had to raise the white flag, but she’s resting in our tent.”

“She’ll be fine?” River asked.

“Yes. So will Luce and Blue—thanks to you.” Cali bowed her head respectfully to River and added, “Do you mind if I wait here with you?”

“I don’t mind at all,” River said.

“Hey, what’s this about Luce and Blue? I haven’t heard anything—been too busy watching the finish line,” April said.

“They got caught up in some goatheads. Anjo and I were there, so I helped.”

“You did a lot more than that.”

River looked up in surprise to see that Luce had joined their table. One of the Rider’s arms was bandaged, as well as her thigh and both of her hands, but she was carrying a tray filled with spring berries.

“Luce! Put that tray down—that has to hurt your hands,” River said. “How’s Blue?”

“Because of you, she’s going to recover. The Healer said had Blue struggled any more she would have sliced open a vein and bled out. You saved my mare’s life—and mine as well, as I couldn’t live without her.”

“Oh, hey, anyone would have—”

“No! That is absolutelynottrue. Other riders passed us. You were the only one who stopped. Thank you. For what you did today you will forever have my loyalty.”

River was so taken aback by Luce’s words that she could only stutter, “Th-thank you.”

“May I wait with you?” Luce asked.

“Sure!” River said.

Cali and Luce were only the beginning. As the evening stretched toward dusk, other Herd members paid tribute to River. Some just stopped for a quick word of congratulations, but many brought offerings—special tidbits of food, mulled wine—and as the wind increased, cooling the prairie, blankets were wrapped around her shoulders and pillows were put under her injured foot.

Anjo, too, was treated with care and respect. Sweet spring carrots—her favorite treat—were piled before her until the mare couldn’t eat another.

Absent from the respectful tribute being paid to Anjo and River were Clayton and the group of young men who seemed to follow him everywhere. When River looked around for him she saw him sitting beside Alani, laughing at something the mare Rider had just said.

“Don’t let him bother you,” April whispered.

“Oh, he doesn’t. He’s only doing what comes natural to him—pandering to the Rider he thinks will benefit him the most.”

“He needs to do a lot better if he thinks you’ll ever be his friend again,” April said.

“I’m pretty sure he’s not interested in my friendship.”

“His loss,” April said, and turned her back on Clayton.

River and April were deep into a discussion about how Anjo crossed the suspension bridge when Skye’s voice interrupted.

“River? How is your foot?”

“It’ll be fine—and it’s mostly my ankle.” River nodded at Skye’s arm, which was in a sling. “How’s your shoulder.”

“Sore, but it’ll be well a lot faster than your ankle.”