Page 86 of Wind Rider

“Do you see that?” April whispered to her sister while River braided Anjo’s long tail so that it would be easier to wash free of mud afterwards. “Those girls are taking their cues from Skye and just sitting around while their fillies exercise.”

“I see, and I do not approve,” River said darkly.

“Mother should know about this. It’s the laziest thing I think I’ve ever seen. If this is thechangeClayton and his friends are for, well, they need to be stopped!” April hissed the words under her breath to her sister.

“We don’t have to bother Mother. If I’m going to lead our herd I can’t be calling on my mommy to help me.”

“Are you going to yell at them? Tell them how lazy and stupid they’re being?”

River smiled at her passionate little sister. “No. I’m going to do what our mother would do—lead by example. If they don’t follow, well, then, I’m the wrong leader.”

“Or they’re the wrong followers,” April muttered.

River laughed as Anjo knelt so that she could mount. She, like the other Riders exercising in the mud trap, were riding bareback. Actually, River preferred to ride Anjo bareback. She liked the skin-to-skin contact, and Anjo was so sensitive to her every movement that River could direct her filly without using their mental bond, and instead just nudged her slightly with thigh, calf, and heel pressure.

“Either way,” River said to her sister, “I only know one way to lead. So, here goes.”

“A mare’s luck to you,” said April.

Crowded today.Anjo’s sweet voice filled River’s mind. She reached forward, stroking her filly’s strong neck.

“Would you rather wait until they clear out?” River asked her.

Anjo swiveled her head back and forth, taking in the whispering girls perched around Skye, the two stallions laboring under their Riders, aswell as the fillies who—Riderless—were sloughing determinedly through the mud trap.

Your decision. I can beat them all.

River grinned and stroked Anjo’s slick neck, loving her filly’s confidence. She touched her briefly with both of her heels, a sign the filly knew meant to stand still and wait while her Rider assessed the situation.

Clayton and Bard were still working, though River thought they were coming close to overdoing it. Only one other stallion had entered the mud trap. Red, a big sorrel who was several years older than Bard, was well proven and respected by the Herd. His Rider, Jonathan, sat confidently on his back as the stallion trotted determinedly through the mud trap, his coat already slick with sweat.

Two fillies had joined Skye’s Scout—Luce’s grulla filly, Blue, and Cali’s delicate sorrel filly, Vixen. There was an older black mare she recognized as Xanthos, whose Rider, Cybill, had been Chosen the year before Anjo had Chosen River. She was surprised to see that Cybill had joined the group around Skye.

“Cybill usually shows better sense than that.” River spoke softly to Anjo, whose ears twitched back to catch her words.

Xanthos is a fine mare. Cybill is a follower. She follows Skye.

River didn’t say anything more, but she began to feel uneasy. She didn’t like the changes she was seeing in the Herd.

“Let’s show them how this is done,” River said to Anjo.

Yes—let’s!

Anjo moved into the mud trap, choosing the lane that was empty of another horse, but also closest to the reservoir, which meant it was the wettest and the toughest. But the powerful filly didn’t falter. She arched her head, gathered herself, and, as River murmured encouragement, attacked the mud, working her muscles to move her long, fine legs like pistons. River didn’t look to the left or right. She concentrated on her filly, knowing that she was extra weight and that if she shifted her balance she could throw off Anjo’s stride. The Rider and filly worked together, moving as one, and soon River was sweating along with her horse.

She knew that Anjo was approaching and then passing the Riderlessfillies, but River didn’t shift her concentration. From her peripheral vision, she could tell that Anjo was moving up beside Red, the first of the two stallions.

Anjo passed him without even straining herself.

They came to the far end of the mud trap, and Anjo turned neatly to head back. She paused at the end, dancing in place, which River understood was a little showoffish, but she couldn’t blame her filly. Though River didn’t so much as glance over at the group of girls surrounding Skye, she could feel that their attention was riveted on her.

“They should be paying attention to their own horses—like, actuallyridingthem.” River spoke quietly to Anjo, who snorted her agreement.

“They like the show.”

River looked up, shocked to see Clayton on Bard, who was breathing heavily. The two were standing just outside the mud trap, taking a well-earned break.

“I’m not here for your show.” River turned her attention from Clayton. She quickly tucked several escaping curls behind her ears and wiped the sweat from her face with her sleeve before clucking at her filly to keep going. Anjo enthusiastically set out again, easily lapping the fillies and Cybill’s black mare, as well as Jonathan’s stallion.