Storm and the Silver Bridle (5 page)

“Whoever it was must have broken into the tack shed as well,” he said as he rejoined Issie. “They’ve used boltcutters to get in, but they didn’t take anything—except Nightstorm’s halter.”

Avery looked at Issie, who was shaking like a leaf in her dripping-wet pyjamas. “You must be freezing!” he said. “We’d better get inside. We’re not helping Nightstorm standing out here. We have to figure out what to do next.”

Issie didn’t move. When she finally spoke her words came out in a stutter because she was shivering, her lips blue and trembling from the cold. “We…we…need to find Francoise.”

Issie and Avery were both thinking the same thing. Nightstorm’s disappearance had to be connected to the sudden arrival of Francoise D’arth. The question was, how exactly was the mysterious Frenchwoman involved?

While Issie dried herself off and changed into one of Avery’s sweatshirts and a pair of tracksuit bottoms, Avery phoned the number that Francoise had given them the day before when they’d met at the pony club.

Issie could hear him speaking briefly on the phone. She finished getting dressed, rolling up the sleeves of the sweatshirt so that her hands were poking out of the ends, and came into the kitchen to find Avery putting the kettle on.

“I’m making us some coffee to warm you up,” he said. “You were like a block of ice out there in your pyjamas. How did you end up here in the middle of the night, anyway?”

“I…ummm…I had a bad dream,” Issie said. “I guess I was half asleep when I left home, and I didn’t think of getting changed and…anyway, what did Francoise say? Did you speak to her?”

“You could say that.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was a pretty quick conversation. I told her what had happened and she said to wait for her to arrive before we did anything,” Avery said. “She’s on her way here now.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police too?” Issie said.

Avery shook his head. “She made me promise to wait until she arrived.”

They didn’t have long to wait. Francoise must have driven to Winterflood Farm like a demon, because by the time Avery was pouring the coffee they could hear her car pulling up in the driveway outside. Francoise swept into the living room. There were none of the usual cheek kisses or
bonjours—
she was tense as a cat that was about to pounce. Her face was dark with fury.

“When did this happen?” she demanded. “How long has the colt been missing?”

“Hey!” Avery said. “I think we’re the ones who should be asking the questions here, Francoise. From the way you’re acting now it’s obvious you knew that the colt was in danger. Who’s taken him? Is it someone from El Caballo Danza Magnifico? Is that why you’re here?”

Francoise seemed deeply offended by this accusation. “Of course not! How could you even think that El Caballo would do something like that?”

“Well,” Avery said, “it’s a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think? You turn up here one day offering to buy the colt and now he’s gone? I think you need to tell us, Francoise. What’s going on?”

Francoise shook her head. “We don’t have time for explanations,” she insisted. “For every moment that we speak they are getting further away with the colt.”

“All right,” Avery said. “If we don’t have much time, then you’d better explain fast, Francoise. Tell me everything and then I’m calling the police.”

“No! No police!” Francoise instructed. “I know these men and they are ruthless. If they think the police are involved they will kill Nightstorm. I will call my contacts and see what can be done, but I suspect it is probably too late. By now they will already have him on the plane.”

“Plane?” Issie felt as if all the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. What was going on here? What was Francoise talking about? “Francoise? What’s happened to Nightstorm? Where is my horse?”

The Frenchwoman looked at Issie. “Isadora. I can understand how this looks, but believe me, El Caballo Danza Magnifico did not take your Nightstorm. But you are right, I do have something to do with this. When
I told you yesterday that I had been sent by El Caballo Danza Magnifico I was telling the truth. They sent me here to buy Nightstorm and bring him back to Spain. However, I did not tell you that I was also sent here to protect the colt.”

“Protect him? Protect him from who?” Issie was confused.

“When I told my riders at El Caballo Danza Magnifico that Blaze was having Marius’s foal, they were so excited,” Francoise said. “In fact, soon the news of Nightstorm’s birth was the talk of the local village.” She shook her head ruefully. “Harmless gossip—or so I thought at the time. I didn’t see the danger in it. I was stupid. I should have known that once certain men found out, they would do anything to get their hands on a colt born with such a bloodline.”

“Do you mean one of the staff at El Caballo has taken him?” Issie asked.

“No, no!” Francoise seemed frustrated that no one grasped what she was saying. “Not from our farm. It is our rivals who have taken the colt! El Caballo Danza Magnifico is not the only great stud farm in Andalusia. There are others that also breed horses. These horsemen know only too well how valuable the progeny of a stallion as great as Marius can be. Especially now, with the race so near, and so much to lose…

“Race? What are you talking about?” Avery shook his head in bewilderment. “Listen, Francoise, I know you say time is running out, but if these men already have Nightstorm on a plane to Europe then there’s no way we can catch them now. Let’s all take a deep breath. I think you’d better tell us everything, and start at the beginning this time.”

Francoise looked as if she was about to argue with Avery, but then let out a heavy sigh, as if admitting defeat. “You are right. It is too late anyway to stop them. We might as well speak about this now.” She shook her head sorrowfully. “I intended to tell you everything when I came here this morning, but not under these circumstances. This development is most unfortunate.”

“You could put it that way,” Avery said darkly. Then he softened. “I was making coffee just now. Would you like some?”

“
Oui
, yes please.” Francoise managed a weak smile as she pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table. Issie sat beside her while Avery poured them all a cup of coffee, and Francoise began her story.

“In Andalusia, where El Caballo Danza Magnifico has its stables, there are many famous horse estates, or
haciendas
as we know them in Spain. Each hacienda, of
course, believes that they breed the best horses in the world.” Francoise took a sip of her coffee and continued. “Over the centuries there have been many arguments over whose stable had the very best horses of all. And then one day, many decades ago, the haciendas joined together and decided to find out once and for all.”

“And so they held a race?” Issie said.

“
Oui
, exactly,” Francoise continued, “but not just any race, Isadora. This race was held in the middle of the village square, near the Sierra de Grazalema mountains. Twelve stables were invited to enter a horse in the race. One horse and one rider from each of the twelve, representing the most prominent and prestigious stud farms in Andalusia. The winning stable would be proven to have the best horses in all of Spain.” Francoise paused. “There was much at stake in this race. To win meant great honour. To lose, to fail in this race meant great misfortune for your stable. You see, the winner would be allowed to handpick five of the very best horses from each of the other eleven haciendas. Imagine that! If you lost the race you would lose your greatest treasure—the best five horses in your herd!”

Francoise saw the look on Issie’s face as she realised what this meant.

“You see how important this race is,” she continued. “The winning hacienda would strengthen their bloodlines with the best horses from each of their rivals’ stables.”

Avery interrupted, “I’ve heard of this race, Francoise. They call it the race for the Silver Bridle. But I thought it was just a legend, something the
vaqueros
, the Spanish cowboys, took part in a long time ago.”

Francoise shook her head. “The race is not dead. It has continued throughout the generations—it happens every ten years. Even now, in modern times, the race is as important as it ever was. Each stable wants desperately to win.”

“And now the race is here again?” Issie asked.

“
Oui
,” Francoise said. “Yes, Isadora. It is here again. El Caballo Danza Magnifico have selected the best horse in our stables, the stallion Marius, to run for us. If he wins, then we may take our pick of all the best bloodlines from the best stables in Andalusia. If he loses, then we lose our best horses too, just like the rest.”

“I still don’t understand,” Issie said. “What does this have to do with Nightstorm? He’s only a colt. He’s far too young to race.”

“You are right, of course,” Francoise said. “He is too young to run. But he is the son of Marius—his bloodlines
are beyond value. If we do lose the race then the winning stable will choose our best five horses to take. I do not doubt that they will choose Marius. We have only one other foal by him and he will get chosen also. And then where will that leave us? That is why I was sent here. At least if we had your colt then we would have a son of Marius and the bloodline could continue.” Francoise looked worried. “Unfortunately I was not the only one who realised this. Another rival hacienda had the same idea. Only they did not come here to buy your colt. They came to steal him.”

“What will they do with him?” Issie asked.

“They will take him back to Spain, where they will hide him at their stud farm until the race is over,” Francoise said. “You are right, Tom—I hate to admit it, but there is no point in trying to stop them now. These men will have been watching, planning and anticipating us, and will already have him on a plane. They have much money and great resources. They know the value of the son of Marius and they will stop at nothing to get him.”

“But they can’t just steal my horse and get away with it!” Issie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Even if they get Nightstorm back to Spain, the police there must be able to arrest them!”

Avery agreed. “We should call Interpol. The international police. They must be able to act, force these men to give Nightstorm back.”

Francoise shook her head. “And how will you prove to them that he is your colt? He has no brand, no microchipping, no papers. It seems unlikely, does it not, that a young girl in New Zealand would own one of the best Spanish colts with the finest bloodlines in Andalusia? No. Without proof that the colt is yours, the police will never believe you.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Avery asked.

“I suggest that you leave it to me,” Francoise said. “El Caballo Danza Magnifico will get Nightstorm back. We too have great resources—and we also have much to lose.”

Much to lose? Issie couldn’t believe it. Surely no one had more to lose than she did? Storm was her colt. She thought about how he must be feeling right now, all alone in a horse box, being loaded on to a plane, wondering where Issie was, feeling scared.

Issie was scared too, but at that moment she realised she had to put her fears aside. She had to be brave. Storm needed her.

“I want to come!” The words came as a shock to her even as she blurted them out.

“What?” Francoise was confused.

“Take me with you to Spain. If this rival stable, whoever they are, has my colt, then I’m coming with you to get him back.”

“Impossible,” Francoise stated firmly. “It is too dangerous. It is best that you leave this to us.”

“Storm is the one who’s in danger! He’s never even been away from home without me before. He must be terrified!” Issie was shaking, not with the cold this time, but with anger. “I can’t stay here and do nothing while they have him. I have to try and get him back. Please, Francoise.”

Francoise turned to Avery for support. “Tell her that she is being ridiculous, Tom.”

“I wish I could, Francoise,” Avery replied, “but I’m afraid I’m on Issie’s side. We can’t be expected to wait here, not knowing what has happened to Nightstorm. If we come with you, surely there is a chance that we can negotiate directly with these men. We can make them see sense. I certainly think it’s better than sitting here and doing nothing.”

“We?” Francoise looked at him. “So now you are coming too?”

“It looks that way, doesn’t it?”

Francoise sighed and shook her head. “You are both
impossible, I think. But you are also right. I would do the same if I were you. I will book the air tickets. El Caballo Danza Magnifico will pay your fares. There is a plane leaving tomorrow night. We should be on it. Pack your bags, and organise your passports. I will call you with details later and meet you at the airport.”

And with that, Francoise disappeared out the door. There was the sound of her car squealing on the gravel driveway outside and she was gone.

“Well,” Avery said, looking at Issie. “Looks like we’re off to Spain then.” His face dropped suddenly and Issie could tell from his expression that he had just remembered something. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”