Shadow Knight

Shadowknight ‘Once a horse is born someone will be found to ride it’ Hebrew Proverb

BEFORE. Lorraine never knew what spooked the big horse, but from the moment Sergeant shied, dropping a shoulder and spinning across the track, she knew a fall was inevitable. There was just time for an instant of regret before the reins tore from her grasp and she took the jarring impact from the cinder path on her shoulder and hip. Rolling onto her back on the soaked ground, she lay helpless, winded and gasping for breath as the bay cob danced and reared over her, eyes rolling, alarmed all the more by the loss of his rider. Senses now overloaded, Sergeant gave in to the most basic urge of his species and took flight, his retreating hooves spraying Lorraine with grit and filth. With difficulty she sat up tasting iron and wiping the back of her hand across her mouth in a reflex gesture

that smeared red on her riding glove. She swore, spitting blood and saliva from a bitten lip. This route was an unfamiliar one to her. Miles from home, hurt and with perhaps an hour of light remaining on a cold wet winter afternoon she was in serious trouble. ‘Serves me right for riding alone,’ she muttered. Lorraine stood with difficulty, feeling a moment of faintness. Sergeant would in all probability run all the way back to the yard, but what worried her was by the time the cob arrived there, her husband would be waiting to pick her up. He was used to her being out longer than expected, but with Sergeant returning alone he would be frantic with worry. She needed to find a house with phone as soon as possible. The bridle track on which she’d been riding nestled on a valley floor between hills covered in winter browned bracken and leafless woodland. Lorraine was certain there hadn’t been any houses for the past couple

of miles, and although she knew the track joined a familiar path home somewhere ahead, she had no idea if there were farms or cottages on the way. Retracing her steps seemed the best option, so she limped after Sergeant, the rain seeping down her neck and through the seams of her riding boots, her stiffening muscles stopping her from walking fast enough to keep warm. Lorraine stopped, reaching inside her jacket for the comfort of a cigarette she remembered at the last moment it was almost two months since she had given up. Sighing she walked on, hands pushed deep into her pockets, chin tucked into her collar. Another fifty yards and she stopped again, this time straining her eyes into the gathering gloom. A curl of smoke, not much more than a faint smudge against the flat gray sky was rising from the trees to her right. Lorraine blinked to make sure it was there, wiping away rain mixed with tears.

She walked on as fast as she was able, at last coming to a gap in the bushes that concealed a narrow, rather overgrown footpath driving uphill into the trees. A faded wooden signpost leaning at a drunken angle and grown into the bushes read Maltbury Bower five miles. Without hesitation she took the path, ignoring its clawing thorns and low branches in the hope it might lead to habitation. Lorraine trudged uphill with the weather worsening. The steady rain blown through the trees had soaked her and the low cloud made darkness descend earlier than expected. She started to shiver. After some distance the path leveled off and Lorraine glimpsed lights ahead through the murk and heard the low thrum of an engine. Some way further, the narrow track opened out, giving way to a large clearing that contained a ramshackle collection of buildings. Against one side there was a short row of wooden stables, roofs patched with rusty corrugated iron and faded poly-

thene feed sacks, walls twisted and leaning with age. On the other side was a small single storey cottage with its windows boarded up. A large battered horsebox with peeling paintwork and bodywork moth-eaten by rust was parked in front. The bass throbbing of a diesel came from a large machine mounted on wheels, close by the stables. Cables snaked away from it toward the other buildings. She assumed this was some sort of generator. ‘Oh great, If things are too primitive around for mains electricity there won’t be a phone either,’ she said aloud. ‘Hello, is there anyone here?’ Her voice rang around the gloomy space. ‘Hello?’ There was no answer except the sigh of the wind. The rain was coming harder now, blown in sheeting gusts causing her to shiver uncontrollably. No light at all came from the cottage, but the front of the stables were illuminated by several dim and

grubby bulbs, and from the half closed door of the first stable in the row, a bright glow emerged. The inside of the stable was warm and lit by strip-lights, the floor was filled by a deep fresh straw bed and the walls appeared clean with a fresh coat of whitewash. Lying on the straw was a large gray horse. At first Lorraine thought it was dead, but moving closer she saw the laboured rise and fall of its breathing. As she approached it lifted its head a little, turning its eyes towards her. ‘Her name’s Andromeda’ She gave a start at the voice close behind her, turning to see a middle aged man in a long waterproof riding coat and wide brimmed leather hat in the doorway. ‘I’m sorry?’Lorraine gasped. The man walked forward into the full glow of the stable lights. She could see sheen of tears or perhaps just rain on the man’s lined and tired looking face.

‘Her name’s Andromeda,’ he said ‘And what’s yours?’ ‘Lorraine,’ there was an awkward pause. ‘Barstow.’The man took a deep breath ‘I’m Nathanial Barstow...though it’s been years since anybody called me anything other than...well just plain Barstow.’ Lorraine turned to look at the horse again. ‘What’s wrong with her? ‘She’s old and very ill.’ He paused letting out a breath in a long sigh. ‘I’m afraid she hasn’t got long to go.’ ‘Oh the poor thing, has anyone seen her, I mean a vet or anyone?’ Lorraine knelt in the straw and stroked the animal’s neck. ‘The vet was here earlier.’ He paused ‘He’s an old friend — understood how I’d want it to be at the...’He swallowed with an obvious effort ‘We’ve been together

so long now, done so many things together...half of them you wouldn’t believe.’ ‘Wasn’t there anything the vet could do to make it...easier?’ ‘Oh he said there won’t be any pain, she’ll just slip away...I couldn’t see her hurting’ Lorraine felt her own tears well up as she turned to the old horse, reaching out to stroke her muzzle. The man was silent for a moment then said ‘Are you alright? You look half frozen and soaked. This is an out of the way place to be wandering around.’ ‘I fell and my horse ran off, my husband will be worried sick...I was looking for a phone, I’m sorry.’ ‘Don’t be. I have a phone in the cottage. It’s not quite as primitive here as I like it to look.’ he paused. ‘Will you stay with her for a few minutes? If you give me the number I’ll call for you — It’s just — well, she seems to like you and I don’t want her to be alone.’

‘Okay,’ Lorraine said slowly ‘I suppose that’s alright’ she stroked the horse’s ears with gentle fingers while the man produced a grubby piece of paper and a stub of pencil from his jacket. She stood, brushing straw from her soaked and muddy jodhpurs before scribbling the number. The man took the paper without a word and left. Lorraine unbuckled her riding hat and took it off, kneeling by the horse again. ‘You poor old girl, I wish there was some way I could help you.’ The animal lifted its head with some effort and nuzzled against her stomach. Outside the sound of wind and rain was increasing, but inside the stable was warm and the weight of the old animal’s head on her lap felt comforting. Lorraine lost track of time, the thick sweet scent of horse, a mixture of fresh grass and musk, filled her senses and she closed her eyes, fingers moving through the old mare’s coat. The rustling came like dis-

tant whispers and the horse lifted its head further until its eyes locked with her own. In the dark brown depths she saw a movement, tiny flecks of gold danced. At first she thought it was her imagination, but as she watched spellbound the dark brown pools lit with a golden glow, expanding until they burnt like fire filling her whole world. Lorraine drifted, bathing in the light, feeling no fear at all, just wonder, peace and perhaps a faint trace of longing.

A few minutes later Lorraine stepped out of the stable and crossed to the man waiting outside. ‘It’s over, she’s gone.’ ‘I know,’ he said.’ There was a moment of silence. ‘I’ve called your stable told your husband you’re safe. I said I would be glad to give you a lift.’ There was a moment of silence. ‘What I saw, in there,’ she paused, searching for the right words. ‘It was — real, wasn’t it?’

‘Oh yes, very real’ he gave a sad smile. ‘She was waiting for me wasn’t she? She knew — about me I mean.’ ‘She was a mother too, three fine strong foals — How far along are you?’ ‘Two months.’ There was another long pause ‘I can’t ever tell anyone about this can I?’ ‘That’ll be for you to decide, but I think perhaps only one person will ever need to know apart from you.’ Lorraine placed her hand on her stomach ‘I think I see’ she said. ‘I want to go home now.’ They crossed to the horsebox without speaking, Lorraine clambering with an effort into the passenger side while the man climbed into the driver’s seat. He warmed the engine up for a few moments before swinging the big vehicle around and pulling up at an iron gate at the far side of the clearing.

‘There’s something I have to do before I leave – please stay here it won’t take long.’ Lorraine looked out of her window, watching him in the mirror as he walked back to the stable where the light still shone. Five minutes later he returned, striding in front of the horsebox to swing the rusty gate wide open. Climbing into the cab next to Lorraine he crunched the lorry into gear and pulled through the opening onto a narrow rutted lane. Lorraine looked back at the clearing before the bend in the road could swallow the view. A golden glow flickered through the skeletal branches as a great column of flame licked skyward from where Andromeda’s stable had been.