Liberty and the Dream Ride (8 page)

But before Issie could, Avery had interrupted.

“I'm very sorry, Tiggy, but Issie really has to go now. We've got the showjumping arena booked for three p.m. and we can't be late.”

As they said their goodbyes and headed back to Comet's stall, Issie wished Avery hadn't stopped Tiggy talking when he did.

“I thought you'd be glad to get away from that old gasbag!” Avery said.

“She was telling me about Valmont Promise,” Issie said. “You know, the horse that had the heart attack on the cross-country course? Tiggy thinks there's more to it – like there was something sinister about the way Promise died.”

Avery shook his head. “Heart attacks happen,” he said, “especially when a horse is galloping. It puts their heart under extreme pressure – and the modern cross-country course is incredibly tough. Six kilometres at a flat gallop is enough to put a strain on even the most sound, healthy horse.”

He looked at Issie's face. “I get the feeling that something else is bothering you too.”

Issie hesitated. “It's… a big step up for me, isn't it? I never realised just how big the jumps would be here compared to a Three-Star course.”

Avery nodded. “You know, back in my day when I rode at Badminton and Burghley, the three-day event was quite different. It was the same three basic phases, in the same order – dressage on the first day, followed by cross-country on day two and showjumping on the third day. But so much has changed in the modern three-day event – each phase is much harder than ever before. The dressage test you'll be performing on Friday is so complex with flying changes, half-passes and pirouettes, and on Saturday the cross-country phase is a six-kilometre gallop over thirty big fences. The horses will be stiff and sore, but they'll still have to pass the trot-up the next day before they're allowed on to the showjumping phase. The new scoring systems make it crucial to go clear because a single knocked pole is all it takes to lose the competition.”

Avery paused and then added, “It's hard enough for the big horses, but even worse for Comet. He's a tiny pony facing up to massive jumps and having to compete against hacks that are twice his size.”

“Err, Tom?” Issie pulled a face at him. “Pep talks have never been your strong point, but this has got to be one of the worst ever – totally depressing!”

“Issie, what do you want me to tell you? That riding in a Four-Star competition against the very best riders in the world will be easy? That there won't be moments on the cross-country course where you'll look at the sheer size of those fences and feel your stomach clench?”

Avery suddenly looked very serious. “I can't lie to you, Issie. The Kentucky Four-Star is a step up from anything you've ever done before. There are only six Four-Star courses in the world and Kentucky is one of them – this is as tough and as scary as it gets. This is one of the top international eventing competitions…”

Avery paused, “…and I really think you can win it.”

“What?” Issie was shocked.

“Comet is ready for this,” Avery said quietly, “and so are you, Issie. You're the youngest competitor here, but you have talent beyond your years. And I believe in your ability. So from the moment you step into that dressage arena on Friday, you keep your eye on the prize and don't you ever dare to doubt yourself. We're not here for the ‘experience' or to make up the numbers. We're here because we're going to win.”

Issie felt a rush of emotion overpower her. There was a lump in her throat and she had to choke it down before she could speak. “I take it back, Tom. Your pep talks are definitely improving.”

Avery smiled. “Come on, we've got jumping practice to do.”

Avery might not have put much stock in anything that Tiggy Brocklebent had to say, but Stella lapped up the journalist's gossip. Back in the cabin that evening, she sat on the edge of the bed with wide eyes as Issie went through the whole conversation with Tiggy word for word.

“So Tiggy thinks someone hates Valmont enough to target his horses?” Stella asked. “Does she have any ideas who?”

“Not really,” Issie said. “To be honest, Valmont seems like the sort of guy who would have a long list of enemies. I mean, you should have heard the way he talked to Marcus and Tara yesterday when he was checking up on Liberty. He virtually told Marcus that if he didn't win the Four-Star he'd lose his job.”

“Ohmygod!” Stella's eyes went wide. “Issie! You don't think that Marcus has a grudge against Valmont, do you?”

“Stella, what are you talking about?” Issie replied. “Of course not! That's crazy!”

“No, it's not,” Stella said. “Think about it. Marcus has every reason to hate his boss if he's so horrible to him. Marcus knew Promise – and he was working for the Valmont Stables when Promise died. Plus he was also there that night in the motel stables at Rio Rancho! I mean, nobody else was around, were they? Maybe
he
was trying to hurt Liberty to get back at Valmont and you got in the way! How do you know that it wasn't Marcus lurking in the shadows in the first place? You disturbed him in the act and then he pretended that he was coming to help!”

“Marcus isn't capable of harming a horse,” Issie said. “And he wouldn't intentionally hurt the horse that he's supposed to be riding.”

“How do you know that?” Stella said. “You only met him a week ago. He could be a totally bonkers horse killer! Just because he's crazy about you, doesn't mean he can't also just be crazy full-stop.”

“Stella!” Issie snapped. “I keep telling you – there's nothing going on with me and Marcus…”

She was interrupted by a knock on their cabin door. Before she had the chance to answer, the handle turned and the door swung open. It was Marcus Pearce.

“Hi,” he smiled at them. “What's going on? A private team meeting?”

“Ummm, sort of,” Issie said nervously. Had Marcus heard their conversation? Was he listening outside their door? If he did know what they had been talking about then he certainly wasn't letting on.

“I just came to ask you both to a party tonight,” Marcus said. “Gerhardt Muller is throwing a bash over at his horse truck.”

“Uhhh, thanks, but we really shouldn't go out tonight,” Issie said. “We've got the trotting-up tomorrow and—”

“We'd love to come!” Stella interrupted her. “What time?”

“The party's at eight. Meet you there?” Marcus said.

“Cool!” Stella said. “See you then.”

“I can't believe you talked me into this,” Issie said as the girls cut through the stable blocks to get to Gerhardt's truck. “I should be back at home studying my dressage test.”

“Issie,” Stella said, “you've been studying that test for so long you could ride it with your eyes shut. What's wrong with taking one night off and having fun?”

Fun wasn't exactly high on Issie's list of priorities. Last night she had lain awake in bed at three in the morning worrying about Laurel Farm and the future. If she lost at Kentucky, they would have to sell another horse to make ends meet. And even though Avery and Francoise hadn't actually come out and said as much, she knew that it would probably be Nightstorm. Issie's bay stallion was worth the most money by far, and his sale would be enough to keep the farm running for another few months.

Issie couldn't bear even considering the idea of selling her beloved Storm. He was Blaze's son and Issie had been there at the mare's side when he was born. She had watched him grow up into the amazing horse that he was today. At times during this journey she had regretted not bringing him with her to Kentucky instead of Comet. It wasn't an easy decision, choosing which horse to bring. She had discussed it at length with Francoise and Avery and in the end they had all agreed that Comet was the best choice for Kentucky. The little pony was better at travelling long distances than Storm was, and besides, Issie needed to save the big bay for the Badminton Horse Trials happening in just two weeks' time back in England. With the two events scheduled so close together there was no way she could ride Nightstorm at both.

This was the sort of decision professional eventers were forced to make – deciding to split their best horses over the various events on the calendar. But with their funds so low and things looking grim for the future, Issie was beginning to think she'd made the wrong call saving Nightstorm for Badminton. Was she asking too much of Comet to make it round this massive course at Lexington?

“Issie, you need to stop over-thinking things,” Stella said gently. “Forget about horses – just for one night. I don't only want us to go because I want to see Shane. This party will be good for you too.”

Issie wasn't so sure. “I'm not staying late,” she warned Stella. “I'll talk to Marcus for a bit and then I'm going home.”

The party was in full swing when they arrived. Most of the guests were crammed inside the tiny interior of Gerhardt's horse truck. The truck was one of those posh ones that was kitted out like a luxury yacht on wheels – with plush sofas and a state-of-the-art kitchen and living room upfront, and sleek horse stalls at the back. There were about twenty riders crammed into the space, talking and dancing.

“There's Shane!” Stella gave a quick wave and he pushed his way towards them through the crowd. The music was really loud and Issie found herself having to shout to be heard above the noise. “Have you seen Marcus?” she asked.

Shane shook his head. “He'll turn up soon.”

“Come on!” Stella shouted to Issie and Shane. “I love this song! Let's dance!”

There wasn't much room in the cramped horse truck so their dance moves involved mostly bouncing up and down. After crashing into at least three people Issie gave up. It was nearly nine now and Marcus still hadn't turned up. And even if he did, how was she supposed to talk to him over the pounding of the music? If she went back to her cabin she'd still have time to read through her dressage test a couple of times before bed. “Stella!” she shouted. “I'm going to go back to the cabin, OK?”

Stella nodded. “OK! See you there.”

It was a relief to step outside the noisy horse truck into the cool night air. Issie jumped down the truck steps and headed back the way they had come, walking through the stable blocks, towards the riders' village.

At night the main lights in the loose boxes were switched off so that the horses were left in darkness, but in the corridors there were security lights offering just enough illumination so that Issie could find her way quite easily through the rows of stabling.

She had just entered stable block D, when she noticed a figure up ahead of her. In the gloom she couldn't make out who it was, but she could see straight away that they were acting very strangely – crouching down behind the feed bins and then creeping along beside the loose boxes.

Suddenly the figure stood up in the light in full view and turned round so that Issie could see his face.

It was Marcus!

Why was he in the stables at night, acting so weird? Issie was about to call out when Marcus suddenly leapt forward like a sprinter from the starting blocks and took off down the corridor away from her.

“Marcus?” Issie shouted after him.
What was going on?

And then Issie realised why Marcus was running. There was someone else in the stables, a hooded figure that had slunk out of one of the stalls. Startled by the sight of Marcus bearing down on him, the hooded figure took off, sprinting out the door of the stable block.

Marcus kept running, following him outside into the yards and Issie tried to keep up.

As she came out of the doors of the stable block she was just in time to witness the hooded man reach out and snatch up a rake that was leaning against the wall. Then he turned and flung the rake at Marcus!

Thankfully Marcus had lightning reflexes. He managed to duck in time, the rake missing him by less than a centimetre as it flew over his head, and then he was up and running again. He was faster than the hooded man and stride by stride he was gaining on him.

Suddenly the man veered sharply to the left, hurdling a post-and-rail fence. Marcus followed, but just as he was at the top of his arc over the fence, his foot hooked on the top rail.

With his foot caught on the rail Marcus was unable to regain his balance and he went down hard. He put his hands out to break the fall, but the surface beneath him was concrete and the impact was bone-crunching. He let out a cry as he hit the ground.

“Marcus!” Within moments she was by his side, leaning down over him. “Are you OK?”

Marcus looked up at her, his face racked with pain. “Uhhh… my arm, I think I've hurt it,” he said.

Still bent over him, Issie noticed something lying on the concrete. A green security passcard – Marcus must have dropped it when he fell. She reached down, grasped it and shoved it in her pocket. “Stay still,” she told him. “Don't move. I'll get help. It's going to be OK…”

Two hours later Issie found herself with Avery and Tara in the orthopaedic ward of Lexington General Hospital, watching as Marcus, his face drained pale from the shock and pain, sat stoically while the surgeon examined him.

When the doctor broke the news that the bone was broken – and not just in one place but in two – Marcus completely lost it. “It can't be broken. I'm due to compete in the Kentucky Four-Star on Friday. I have to ride.”

“Very funny,” the doctor said drily. “It will be at least four weeks before you can get on a horse again.”

“But that's impossible!” Marcus tried to stand up. “Look, let's just leave it for now and I'll ride with it like this. I'll come back when the competition is over and you can put a cast on it then.”

“Sit down, son,” the doctor said, his patience clearly strained to breaking point. “Your arm is badly broken. If you try and use it you'll end up with permanent nerve damage. We need to immobilise the bones immediately – please, let us give you a sedative so we can reset the bone and put on the plaster cast.”

In the end, Marcus had to admit defeat and let them encase his arm in plaster from his elbow to his fingertips. He still refused the sedative.

“I don't want to sleep,” he insisted. “I need to tell you guys what happened. There was a man, I saw him going into Liberty's stall… arghhh!” Marcus winced with pain as the surgeon repositioned his arm. “Tara, you need to get back to the stables – someone has to be there to keep an eye on Liberty. Something is definitely going on – she's not safe.”

“Calm down,” Tara reassured him, “I'll go to the stables now and keep a watch on her, OK?”

Tara turned to Avery and Issie. “Can you stay with Marcus until the doctor is finished and then bring him back to the Horsepark?”

“Of course,” Avery said.

As the doctor finished plastering the cast, Issie tried to take Marcus's mind off the pain, by telling him stories about Comet.

“Back at my aunt's farm he was always in trouble,” Issie said. “He was constantly jumping out of his paddock. The first time I met him we nearly hit him with a horse truck because he'd managed to get on to the driveway. And then there was the time he jumped out and got into the tack shed and ate all the dog biscuits.”

“I've never heard of a horse eating dog biscuits before,” Marcus said, momentarily distracted from the pain. “Aren't horses supposed to be vegetarians?”

“Tell that to Comet!” Issie smiled. “He once stole a meat pie off the back of the horse truck while I was trying to plait his mane!”

Marcus laughed – and then instantly regretted it. “Oww! Don't make me laugh,” he said. “It hurts.”

“Sorry,” Issie said. “Hey, by the way,” she passed him the green passcard, “I picked up your security card when you fell. You must have dropped it.”

Marcus shook his head. “No, I've still got my card.” He produced it from his pocket. “That isn't mine.”

Issie stared at the green passcard in her hand, and then put it back in her pocket. The doctor was now giving the cast a final wipe with a damp cloth. “You're all done, Marcus. You're free to leave.”

“I'll go and get the car and bring it round to the door,” Avery said to Issie. “You bring him down in the lift and I'll meet you out front.”

As Avery left the room, Issie gathered up Marcus's things ready to leave and turned to him. “OK, let's go,” she said. But Marcus wasn't moving. He was sitting on the side of the bed with a serious expression on his face.

“Issie,” he said. “Wait. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Yeah, of course,” Issie said. “What is it?”

Marcus held up his newly plastered broken arm. “You may have noticed that I've got a little problem,” he said darkly. “It looks like I'm not going to be able to ride in the Four-Star.”

Issie didn't know what to say. “There'll be other years…”

“No. There won't be,” Marcus replied. “This was my big chance. I'd been training that mare for six months. Mr Valmont was counting on me to bring Liberty home in the top ten – if I can't ride her, he'll dump me. I'll lose my contract.”

“But it was an accident,” Issie said. “You were trying to protect Liberty. I'm sure he'll understand…”

“You've met Valmont,” Marcus said. “Did he seem like an understanding kind of guy to you? The only way to keep him happy is to find another rider to take over the ride on Liberty.”

“You're kidding!” Issie said. “How are you going to find someone at the last minute who…” And then she saw the expectant look on his face.