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Authors: Stacy Gregg
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break his spirit.”
“But if he’s Vega’s horse, then what is he doing here?” Issie asked.
“The race for the Silver Bridle,” Francoise explained. “The winning stable gets to take five horses of their choosing from each of their rivals.” Francoise reached out a hand to stroke Angel’s silver mane. “When we won against Vega’s stable ten years ago, I had just joined El Caballo. I was given the chance to choose a horse myself—and I chose Angel.”
“I can see why,” Issie said softly. “He’s very beautiful.”
“
Oui”
Francoise agreed. “But that is not why I chose him. I picked him because of his speed. Angel’s bloodlines date back to some of the greatest racehorses in the history of Spain. His sire has won many, many races. And I knew Angel could be fast too. I thought that one day, when he was fully grown, he would be able to defend El Caballo Danza Magnifico against Vega’s stables. He would race for us and bring home the Silver Bridle.”
“So will he be racing this time,” Issie asked, “against the other stables?”
Francoise shook her head. “I do not think so. Roberto wants Alfonso to ride for us in the race. A jockey needs to be light and quick and Alfie is the best in our stables.”
“Well, why doesn’t Alfonso ride Angel?” Issie was confused.
“Because Angel will not allow it,” Francoise said. “Ever since Vega put the
serreta
on him Angel has been afraid of men. He trembles at their touch. He will not allow a male jockey on his back. He has thrown all of our best riders—including Alfie. Of course,” Francoise added cheekily, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“What!” Issie couldn’t believe it. “You’re joking, right? You don’t really expect me to ride him? He’ll throw me too!”
“You are not a man, are you?” Francoise smiled. “Angel has never thrown me. He will not throw you. It is only men that he fears, and rightly so, for it was a man—a brutal and cruel man—who did this to him.”
“Poor Angel.” Issie looked at the stallion’s gentle face, those soulful black eyes. “Anyone who could hurt a horse like this must be a monster.”
Francoise suddenly went very quiet and didn’t respond.
“The brushes are in the stall,” she said, changing the subject. “You can groom him while I fetch the saddles.”
Grooming Angel proved to be quite different from brushing Blaze or Comet. For starters, the grey stallion was much taller than her horses at home. Issie tried tiptoeing at first and then had to give up and turn the grooming bucket upside down to stand on it so she could reach his mane. It usually took Issie no time at all to whip a comb through Blaze’s mane, which was kept pulled short and neat, but Angel’s mane was quite different. It was long and silky, like fairy-tale princess hair.
“Aren’t you beautiful?” Issie said under her breath as she ran her body brush along the crest of Angel’s magnificent neck. Then she caught sight of those scars once more and a shiver ran up her spine.
“Here you go!” Francoise’s voice startled her back to reality. She passed Angel’s bridle over to her and Issie was shocked when she saw that there were long black leather tassels hanging down the front of the brow band.
Francoise smiled. “Don’t worry, it is not a
serreta
. That’s just a
mosqueto
, a fly switch—all the horses here wear them.”
Issie put on the bridle and then Francoise showed her how to put on the Spanish
vaquero
saddle. It was heavy,and twice the size of Issie’s normal saddle, with a sheepskin pad on the top of it.
“It’s like sitting in an armchair!” Issie giggled when Francoise legged her up.
Francoise led the two horses out into the courtyard and then mounted Marius. She smiled at Issie. “Have you ridden a stallion before?” she asked.
Issie nodded. “My Aunt Hester has a black warmblood called Destiny.”
“Spanish stallions are quite different, you will see,” Francoise said.
“But if he’s Vega’s horse, then what is he doing here?” Issie asked.
“The race for the Silver Bridle,” Francoise explained. “The winning stable gets to take five horses of their choosing from each of their rivals.” Francoise reached out a hand to stroke Angel’s silver mane. “When we won against Vega’s stable ten years ago, I had just joined El Caballo. I was given the chance to choose a horse myself—and I chose Angel.”
“I can see why,” Issie said softly. “He’s very beautiful.”
“
Oui”
Francoise agreed. “But that is not why I chose him. I picked him because of his speed. Angel’s bloodlines date back to some of the greatest racehorses in the history of Spain. His sire has won many, many races. And I knew Angel could be fast too. I thought that one day, when he was fully grown, he would be able to defend El Caballo Danza Magnifico against Vega’s stables. He would race for us and bring home the Silver Bridle.”
“So will he be racing this time,” Issie asked, “against the other stables?”
Francoise shook her head. “I do not think so. Roberto wants Alfonso to ride for us in the race. A jockey needs to be light and quick and Alfie is the best in our stables.”
“Well, why doesn’t Alfonso ride Angel?” Issie was confused.
“Because Angel will not allow it,” Francoise said. “Ever since Vega put the
serreta
on him Angel has been afraid of men. He trembles at their touch. He will not allow a male jockey on his back. He has thrown all of our best riders—including Alfie. Of course,” Francoise added cheekily, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“What!” Issie couldn’t believe it. “You’re joking, right? You don’t really expect me to ride him? He’ll throw me too!”
“You are not a man, are you?” Francoise smiled. “Angel has never thrown me. He will not throw you. It is only men that he fears, and rightly so, for it was a man—a brutal and cruel man—who did this to him.”
“Poor Angel.” Issie looked at the stallion’s gentle face, those soulful black eyes. “Anyone who could hurt a horse like this must be a monster.”
Francoise suddenly went very quiet and didn’t respond.
“The brushes are in the stall,” she said, changing the subject. “You can groom him while I fetch the saddles.”
Grooming Angel proved to be quite different from brushing Blaze or Comet. For starters, the grey stallion was much taller than her horses at home. Issie tried tiptoeing at first and then had to give up and turn the grooming bucket upside down to stand on it so she could reach his mane. It usually took Issie no time at all to whip a comb through Blaze’s mane, which was kept pulled short and neat, but Angel’s mane was quite different. It was long and silky, like fairy-tale princess hair.
“Aren’t you beautiful?” Issie said under her breath as she ran her body brush along the crest of Angel’s magnificent neck. Then she caught sight of those scars once more and a shiver ran up her spine.
“Here you go!” Francoise’s voice startled her back to reality. She passed Angel’s bridle over to her and Issie was shocked when she saw that there were long black leather tassels hanging down the front of the brow band.
Francoise smiled. “Don’t worry, it is not a
serreta
. That’s just a
mosqueto
, a fly switch—all the horses here wear them.”
Issie put on the bridle and then Francoise showed her how to put on the Spanish
vaquero
saddle. It was heavy,and twice the size of Issie’s normal saddle, with a sheepskin pad on the top of it.
“It’s like sitting in an armchair!” Issie giggled when Francoise legged her up.
Francoise led the two horses out into the courtyard and then mounted Marius. She smiled at Issie. “Have you ridden a stallion before?” she asked.
Issie nodded. “My Aunt Hester has a black warmblood called Destiny.”
“Spanish stallions are quite different, you will see,” Francoise said.
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