Envoys Of The Vow

Chapter 13

A bird scream shocked Sara awake.  As she realised she had fainted she spun to see Misty.  How could she have fainted when the mare needed her so badly?  Misty was gone, the only trace was blood covered leaves and an indentation where she had laid.  Jumping to her feet Sara her head spun woozily, shaking her head to clear it she spun round her eyes searching the clearing, as she turned she jumped when she saw an old man sitting on top of the rock.  Recognition flared in her head.

 "Thomas!  How long have I been here? Where is Misty?"  Her voice sounded choked and strange.

 "Only a few minutes, don't worry the horse is safe."  He put his hands down on the rock and jumped down.  This man could hardly walk the last time she had seen him.

 "You don't understand we were attacked, she was injured.  She couldn't have been moved!"  Sara was sure Misty had died and he was shielding her from the truth.

 "Sara come with me I will take you to her, can you ride?"

 "Yes I think so." She walked forward and a wave of dizziness hit her again.  Gritting her teeth together to clear her head she followed Thomas.

 Thomas walked her to the edge of the clearing toward the parkland where there were two horses waiting.  One a palomino and white that almost looked gold in the setting sun, the other was a dazzling piebald.  Both looked like the feathered cobs you occasionally saw around, however, the nobility in these horses was evident in every line of their bodies.  Muscles rippled under their gleaming coats, their manes and tails were of such a length you could not easily see their features.  Hair hung from the piebald’s knees and hocks to the floor in waves of pure silk.  Neither wore saddles, only ornate bridles you could barely see through the forelocks.

 Thomas legged her up onto the palomino and he walked round to the piebald and vaulted on.  Sara was beyond being shocked by anything today, she just wanted to see Misty then call Jonathan and her mother who by now would be frantic.

 Thomas kicked his horse on who flew forward, Sara’s horse matched his stride for stride eating up the parkland at a speed that should not have been possible.  They flew across the land as if racing the sun through the grand estate of South Park. 

 They did not head for the house but turned off shortly before, heading under a clock tower archway into the stable barn.  The cobbles that covered the pathways leading into the stables were immaculate not a blade of straw or hay could be seen. 

 The stables were stunning. They had bay fronts and black pillars that were topped with golden spheres.  Black iron grills divided the stables, hayracks and swivel mangers were set into the rich honey coloured hardwood panels.  Three massive hooded figures stood around the very end stable, they backed into the shadows at the riders approach.

 Sara launched off her horse and ran into the stable where the figures had been standing.  She found Misty lying down on a deep bed of straw.  A rug had been placed over her body, but her head was up and she whickered as Sara approached.  Running into the deep straw Sara dropped to her knees in front of the mare.  Holding her head to the mare’s cheek, tears rained down onto the horse’s soft coat.  Gently Sara lifted the rug that covered the mare’s quarters, lord knows how many stitches it had taken to close the wound. 

 She got her answer, none, the mares wound was almost a foot long and scored from her stifle back to almost to her dock, though plainly visible it was now completely healed and just thin a pinkish scar through her bay coat.  A clear ointment Sara didn't recognise had been applied over the scar that gave off the faint scent of roses.  The blood was still on her leg and was still wet in some places.  The wound, however, looked to be at least four weeks old and well on it way to being completely healed.