Page 85 of Wind Rider

“Yeah, I know, but if I were lucky enough to be Chosen, especially by a horse as wonderful as Scout, I’d be out there with her and not posed on a rock flirting with a boy.”

River looked at her sister. “You mean unless Brax and Kanth were down there?”

April’s face flamed. Brax was a year older than her, and at the last Rendezvous was Chosen by a sweet bay gelding named Kanth.

“Brax and I like each other—maybe a lot—but I wouldn’t let my feelings for him turn me into that.” April pointed down at Skye, who had tossed back her long hair and was clapping and cheering Bard on, as her Scout continued to labor behind him, mud-spattered and breathing hard.

Disgusted by Skye, River’s gaze went to the girl’s filly. “Scout’s a fine horse, but she’s not as fast as Anjo—no mare is except Echo, and that was when she was in her prime.”

“Don’t let Mother hear you say that.” April bumped River with her shoulder.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’d never disrespect Echo like that.”

“But I agree with you. Anjo is fast.”

“She is! I’m sure Luce and Blue are going to compete in the Mare Test, and they’re actually a stronger team than Scout and Skye. Blue can definitely outrun Scout. And don’t think that Skye and Luce and I will be the only Riders entering the Test. Anyone can enter as long as their mare isn’t older than ten—and that includes a lot of amazing teams in ourHerd and the other branches of Magenti. Pairs will come from all of our Herds, and the competition will be tough. You know the Test is about a lot more than speed. There will be choices we have to make as a team out there. I don’t know what the tests will be—no one except the Mare Council know—and since every Mare Test is different, not even Mother can help Anjo and me prepare.”

“Yeah, and the only witnesses will be the Council judges hidden all around the course—well, at least until you cross the finish line, whereeveryonewill be waiting and cheering. I know all that—we all do. But do you think you can win?”

“Anjo says we can, and that’s good enough for me,” River said.

“I think you can, too,” April said firmly.

“Hey, you realize that if I’m Lead Mare Rider that means you and whatever filly Chooses you probably can’t be, don’t you?” River asked her sister. Lead Stallions held their position no longer than eight years—sometimes a lot less if they were injured or otherwise unable to father foals. Lead Mares led the Herd for ten years—unless injury or illness forced them to step down—and no mare over the age of ten could apply for the Mare Test, which meant that unless something unexpected happened, any horse who Chose April would not be eligible for Lead Mare.

April looked at her sister, surprise clear in her hazel eyes. “Of course I know that! Riv, I’ve never wanted to be Lead Mare Rider. I watch Mother. She and Echo have so many responsibilities. They have to figure out which mares should be bred to which stallions and when. They have to decide on the backup stallions, and the order they stand in for the Herd Stallion after he has been bred to the max. They sit in judgment and hear all the Herd disputes—all of them—then she and Echo decide the outcome, and sometimes that means enforcing penalties and even banishing Riders from the Herd!” She shuddered. “I can’t even imagine! And then there are all of the formal trade gatherings they oversee, as well as deciding which campsite we move to and when—and that’s justpartof their responsibilities. It’s exhausting just listing them.”April shook her head firmly. “No. I have no desire to lead, and you havealwayswanted to. Plus, you’re Mother’s choice—not me, not Amber, and not Violet.”

“Violet’s only four. She can’t be chosen for anything yet,” River teased.

“True. But me—no way. I’ll be content to be bonded to a horse. Any horse. And to serve my Lead Mare Rider.” She bowed her head only half kiddingly.

“Thank you,” River said soberly. “I mean it.”

April met her sister’s gaze. “I mean it, too. And you’re welcome. Now, why don’t you take that gorgeous filly of yours down there and see if you can splash some mud on Skye?”

“That’s really petty,” River said.

“Yes, it is.”

River dimpled. “But it sounds like fun. Want to come with me?”

“Absolutely!”

River wiped her feet off in the grass beside the basin, and then she and April walked over to Anjo.

“How about we go to the mud trap and get some exercise?” River asked Anjo as she rubbed her filly’s wide forehead.

Anjo snorted and bumped River playfully.

“She’s more than ready!” April said, kissing Anjo on the side of her face.

“She likes competition a lot more than I do,” River said.

“Because she knows she’s the best—just like Echo,” April said as she walked beside her sister and Anjo down the steep, winding path to the reservoir.

By the time they reached the mud trap it was no longer early morning and the exercise ground was filling with young Riders and their Companions. River noted right away that Skye remained seated on the rock beside the trap, and that several young girls—some already Riders, and some not—had taken seats around her. Those who had horses sent them into the trap to exercise while the girls remained comfortable, almost as if they were holding court around Skye.

There were a couple fillies laboring away in the mud trap, but most ofthe spectator attention was focused on Clayton and Bard, who were both covered with sweat and mud and sand, still struggling against the sucking ground while Scout held her own with them, though no one seemed to notice the hardworking filly.