Stormchaser and the Silver Mist (16 page)

BOOK: Stormchaser and the Silver Mist
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“Someone’s coming!”

Mia heard Alice cry out, but she didn’t dare let Stormchaser go. And, as he heard running footsteps, and distant cries somewhere behind him, he began once more to try to stand, and to panic.

Mia glanced round, and her heart froze.
Mr Pyke was racing through the mist towards them, his gun slung over his arm. She watched as he assessed the situation in a heartbeat, and took his gun with the other hand. Mia gulped for breath, and felt a warm tear roll down her cheek, tensing as Stormchaser began to thrash around once more. She turned back towards Storm, tightly closing her eyes. Mia wanted nothing more than to shield the magnificent horse from the bullet that she felt sure would follow. But as his fight rose again she was unable to think of anything other than holding Storm still. She didn’t yet know if his legs had been broken in the fall, or in the flailing around once he was down, but it was looking less and less likely that he could get out of this unhurt. Mia gripped Storm as he wildly battled to stand once more, then just as suddenly, he appeared to calm again, groaning deep within his chest.

There was a pause. The gunshot hadn’t rung out as Mia had expected, and she dared to look up. She saw the gun on the grass by the edge of the grid. Mia immediately felt her heart start to find a rhythm again. She wanted to sob
with relief, but she held it in, not wanting to scare Storm. She watched, her breath unsteady as Mr Pyke quickly weighed up the situation. He didn’t flinch, or give anything away, and immediately got on to his radio.

“Nick, get the vet quickly, up by the cattle grid,” he barked. “And the fire brigade, there’s a horse stuck in the cattle grid.” There was a pause. “It’s Storm.”

Then he turned to Mia. She braced herself, but, to her surprise, she had no need to.

“I would ask what on earth you four girls are doing up here on your own, when we told everyone to stick to the red flag route,” Mr Pyke said in a gentle voice, “but for now, I think we should focus on what’s happening here. Have you got any idea how Storm got out of his stable?”

“We think we might,” Alice said cautiously, feeling relieved that Mr Pyke wasn’t furious. She didn’t want to bring Scout any closer, so she spoke from where she stood, a little distance away. Even so, she could see Mr Pyke’s anxious expression, and she decided to be honest about
what they’d been up to. “We… we wanted to find out why it was so unsafe to ride in the Abbey land. So, we ducked away from the ride at the first chance. We headed towards the stables and we’d nearly got there when we heard someone coming out of the woods, opposite. Then we saw Mr Perryvale limp back over to his Range Rover and drive off.”

“Storm’s door was already open by then,” Charlie added, one hand still resting on Phantom’s neck, “and he was gone.”

Mr Pyke’s face flashed with a silent anger, and his cheeks flushed a deep red. “That man’s a disgrace to the horse world,” he spat out. Storm started to move again. Mr Pyke helped Mia to hold him as still as they could. Only this time, Mia noticed, Storm’s fight had lessened, like the fire inside him was slowly fading.

In the uneasy silence that followed, Charlie said in a whisper, “We found some holes dug into the ground in the woods. Did Mr Perryvale do that, too? To try and injure your polo team?”

Mr Pyke laughed mirthlessly. “That’s just the start of it. We found barbed wire half
buried into the gallops, too. He even put up a crop scarer on his field on the edge of our best training ride.”

“What’s a crop scarer?” Alice asked, leaning against Scout for warmth.

“It sounds like a gun,” Mr Pyke explained. “It goes off randomly to scare birds away. Only trouble is, it spooks horses. It’s on Mr Perryvale’s land, so there was nothing we could do, but he put it right next to our woodland gallops. That’s why we shut off all the rides, we had no choice until we could work out what to do about it, what was safe and what wasn’t.”

Charlie suddenly felt her own cheeks flush red, and she bit her lip. “We thought that was you shooting your gun.”

Mr Pyke’s eyes widened. “Why would you think I’d do anything so dangerous?”

Rosie, still feeling pretty dazed from her fall, piped up. “Er, because you carry a gun?”

“For pheasant shooting, away from horses.” Mr Pyke muttered. “I wouldn’t take pot shots at horses, or
riders
.”

The four girls exchanged a quick, guilty look.

“Mr Perryvale has been determined to ruin Nick,” Mr Pyke said, “ever since he walked out.”

“So why
did
Nick leave?” Charlie asked, as Phantom began to get restless. She moved him further away, so he didn’t unsettle Storm.

“Nick confronted Mr Perryvale about all the top horses that kept disappearing after they’d been ruined,” Mr Pyke told them, keeping an eye on Storm as he spoke. “Mr Perryvale muttered about them being rehomed, but no one ever heard about any new owners. Billy was as suspicious as Nick about what had happened to them, and he was determined to find out. He hung back one evening and overheard Mr Perryvale talking to Max, asking him to
dump
another couple. Well, Billy tried to smuggle them out first to save them, but Max caught him. Max bragged to Billy about what he did for Mr Perryvale. He used to take them quite a distance away, so no one got suspicious. But they must have got lazy, because the last two were dumped on your doorstep. Anyway, Mr Perryvale was furious with Billy for interfering. He was sacked on the spot, and Mr
Perryvale kicked me and Archie out too. That was the final straw for Nick. He took on the Abbey and he offered us jobs as soon as it was up and running.”

Mia carried on stroking Storm’s forelock, as everything started to fall into place, including Mr Perryvale dumping Cracker and Frostie. But one thing didn’t make sense. “So, why didn’t you say anything when you realised that the tracks in here were being sabotaged?”

Mr Pyke glanced at Storm. His flanks were still heaving, his restfulness temporary and uneasy. “Well, we weren’t sure who was behind it all to begin with,” Mr Pyke confessed. “And even when Nick began to suspect Mr Perryvale, we had no proof. Nick was just starting to realise the depths that Mr Perryvale could sink to, so he was worried about making things even worse for his horses. But it looks like Mr Perryvale’s pretty much done his worst, and achieved what he set out to do. Storm’s chances in the Winter Cup are over…”

Mr Pyke didn’t look at the girls. Instead he cleared his throat and fell silent. As Mia felt
the warmth of Storm seeping through her coat, she couldn’t help wondering if it was just Storm’s chance of playing in the Winter Cup that had ended.

The sound of an engine broke through the mist. It grew louder, and a silver estate car suddenly appeared, approaching from the other side of the cattle grid. As the car braked, Nick and Estoni leapt out. A tall man carrying a leather bag climbed out after them – the vet, Mia supposed. Just behind, flashing lights glowed in the mist. The fire engine had arrived.

At the new disturbance, Storm broke out into a fresh, vigorous attempt to stand. Within seconds the tall man was approaching, a long needle in his hand. Without a moment’s hesitation he knelt by Storm’s side. As Storm paused for a second, the man expertly administered an injection. Storm snorted and shook his head, but the man held on firmly.

Before Mia had even counted to three, Storm’s head grew heavy in her arms. She felt tears well in her eyes and tumble down her cheeks. She looked up at the others desperately.

“I’ll take over from here,” Estoni said gently, crouching next to Mia, his eyes fixed on his favourite polo pony. Mia didn’t want to let go, but she knew it was important for Estoni to hold his horse. She dropped one kiss onto Stormchaser’s closing eyelid, then slid out to let Estoni hold him. He cradled the bay horse’s head, and whispered softly into his ear.

Mia felt stiff and bruised as she stood up and watched Nick place a rug over Stormchaser’s prone, still body. The girls stood next to their ponies, unable to find any words. They heard Fran’s voice, and looked up to see the Charity Ride a short distance ahead of them, shocked by what they had stumbled across. Mr Pyke quickly walked towards the group, ushering them back down to the arena. They disappeared once more into the mist, and their voices faded.

Nick turned to the Pony Detectives. “You’d better get your ponies back and warmed up,” he said wearily, as the firemen got began to fetch their metal cutters and winches from the engine. “We can take everything from here.”

The girls nodded. Then Nick caught sight of
Rosie’s pale face and Dancer’s clotted injuries and his eyes opened wide.

“What on earth happened here?”

Charlie took a deep, jagged breath, and started to explain.

T
HE
Pony Detectives woke up together on Christmas Eve, in Rosie’s bedroom. The silvery mist had finally rolled away and the sun had come out and thawed the frozen landscape. The events of the day before already seemed completely unreal to all the girls.

When Nick had found out exactly how the girls had been involved with trying to save Storm, he’d had his vet check Dancer thoroughly. All her wounds had been cleaned out and dressed, and the vet had declared her fit enough to travel. Nick had loaned all the ponies rugs and one of the grooms had dropped them back at Blackberry Farm in Nick’s own horsebox.

Despite their parents’ protests, the girls had refused point blank to go home, and had stayed the night at Blackberry Farm, giving
their ponies lots of fuss and extra treats. Dancer even had extra hay in her haynet, and the four friends had done a special midnight check to make sure they’d got over their ordeal. Dancer was loving all the extra fuss, and drooped her head every time one of them walked past, just in case another treat might come her way.

Dancer was stiff when Rosie turned her out in the morning. The strawberry roan mare was walking gingerly, but Rosie knew after the vet check that it was nothing that some quiet walking on a lead rope around the lanes over the rest of the Christmas holidays couldn’t cure.

“I think someone ought to tell Dancer that,” Charlie smiled, as Dancer looked round for sympathy. Rosie gave her pony a huge hug; she couldn’t have been more proud of Dancer for being so monumentally brave. Dancer gave her a droopy headed look, then nudged her pocket.

“Dancer, this can’t go on forever you know,” Rosie smiled, finding a slightly limp carrot in her jacket and holding it out for her mare. Dancer chomped it contentedly, before hobbling off to join the others at the hay piles.

The girls spent the rest of the day in a bit of a daze. They sat in Rosie’s toasty kitchen until the afternoon sun dipped behind the trees, and it grew dark, busily wrapping the presents they had bought and stashed in the tack room for their ponies. The girls had got so cold the day before, partly from shock, that it had taken them ages to finally warm up, so Mrs Honeycott made sure they had a constant supply of hot chocolate.

“I still feel a bit weird, actually,” Rosie said as she put down the Sellotape. “I’d better have another chocolate from the tree to boost my sugar levels.”

“I don’t think it’ll just be Dancer who milks this for ages, do you?” Alice winked at Mia.

As they wrapped, the friends went back over what had happened the day before. With Mia’s photos of the boot print and tyre tracks that were left when Cracker and Frostie were dumped, not to mention the fragment of the number plate from Max’s bike, Nick had been sure that the police would agree to investigate
Mr Perryvale, and his head lad. And he was hopeful that Billy’s name would be completely cleared in the process.

“I wonder if the investigation will be finished before the Winter Cup,” Rosie said.

“I hope so,” Charlie replied, with a slight frown. “But even if it’s not, I don’t reckon the Perryvale team would
dare
turn up to compete. They’d get booed out of the arena!”

“Especially after what happened to Stormchaser…” Alice choked, tears suddenly filling her eyes without warning.

“Either way,” Rosie said quickly, trying to cheer things up before everyone got upset, “we’ll need to get some sleep after everything that’s happened in the past few weeks. Or we’ll snore our way through the whole thing!”

“No snoring allowed,” Mia said, forcing a bright smile. “Nick promised us the best seats in the house – remember?”

After the final present was wrapped, the girls took them out to the stables and carefully slid them into the stockings hanging on the front of the stable doors. Then they brought
their ponies in and spent ages pampering them.

“They were all seriously brave yesterday,” Charlie said, still thrilled by Phantom almost matching strides with the most awesome polo pony ever.

“I know,” Mia grinned, “I can’t wait to give Wish her presents so she feels even more special.”

“I just wish we could stay here tonight,” Alice sighed. “I’d love to wake up with Scout on Christmas morning.”

Just as they’d finished their stables, a car pulled up and Alice’s mum jumped out.

“Time to go home,” she called across the yard.

“Do we have to?” Alice asked, half-joking. She’d jump at the chance of moving into Blackberry Farm to be near Scout all the time, but only if she could bring her mum and dad too.

“You’ll be back here first thing tomorrow,” Alice’s mum laughed, “I don’t think you’re going to miss that much in the meantime, do you?”

After what had been going on in the last few weeks, the Pony Detectives weren’t quite so sure. But now they knew that Mr Perryvale and his head lad were going to be investigated, they could sleep a bit easier, and finally look forward to Christmas Day.

Mr Honeycott dropped the four friends off at the Abbey’s main entrance a week later, on New Year’s Eve. The girls squeaked with excitement as they waved goodbye to Rosie’s dad, then walked up the main drive. The sky was bright blue, and cloudless, but it was still freezing. Alice felt herself shiver and linked arms with Rosie to keep warm.

The car park at the top of the drive was lined with huge, flashy horseboxes. Polo ponies, gleaming in the winter sun, were tied to them in rows, standing patiently. None were from Perryvale, Charlie was pleased to see.

Throngs of people, dressed up in glamorous winter clothes and looking really smart, were
milling about and chatting. Mia was dressed in her finest riding gear, including her elegant furry hat, so she looked as immaculate as most of the other guests. The other three had made a real effort too, but they were already looking whipped by the wind, and within seconds of arriving, Rosie had spilled a drink down her front, staining her jacket.

There were so many people busily swirling around them, they couldn’t find Mr Pyke. There was a brass band playing off to the right, on the edge of the woods, and the arena, with fairy lights wound all around the seats, had been turned into a grotto. Waiters slinked through the crowd, holding out trays of nibbles and glasses filled with hot punch. Rosie clocked where the waiters were coming out from, and planted herself nearby. The others dragged her away after the fifth piping hot sausage roll had disappeared into her mouth.

“What?” she said with a muffled voice. “Nick said to help ourselves to anything we want, didn’t he? I’m just doing as I’m told…!”

The others giggled, then Charlie spotted
Mr Pyke and Archie and started waving madly in their direction.

Mr Pyke beckoned the girls over, and showed them into the commentator’s box. They sank into the plush cushioned seats and picked up their programmes. Charlie flipped hers over, and immediately felt her breath catch in her throat. She nudged the others. There, on the back of the program, was a magnificent photo of Cracker, in full flight. The day had been dedicated to his memory.

The crowd were now taking their seats in the arena. The brass band reached a crescendo, then suddenly all was silent. The Winter Cup was about to begin.

“I can’t believe
we
get to sit
herd
!” Mia giggled, getting unusually giddy as the polo players from the first two teams began to stream in. The commentator introduced the riders and their ponies as they entered the arena. The ponies were glossy, their tails strapped up neatly to stop the players’ sticks getting caught in them. Their manes were neatly hogged, so they could feel the pressure of reins on their
necks to help them turn in the blink of an eye. The commentator counted the ponies for each team, announcing that they were just waiting for one more. The girls could see India, riding the finely built Frostie, and Billy riding a handsome chestnut. It was Estoni that hadn’t yet appeared.

As the umpires rode in, the commentator ran through the names of the players and their ponies, telling the spectators good humoured facts about each and causing ripples of applause and laughter.

“Well, these seats are to say thank you,” Mr Pyke said, smiling at the girls. “If it wasn’t for you four, I don’t even know if the Abbey Polo Club would still be open!”

Archie grinned at them too.

“And there’s one polo pony,” Mr Pyke continued, looking back to the arena, “who certainly wouldn’t be here today…”

As the girls followed Mr Pyke’s gaze, an electric current rippled through the gasping crowd. Estoni entered the arena at a slick canter, sitting on top of a plunging, fly-kicking bay.

The Pony Detectives gasped, hardly daring to believe their eyes as they watched the familiar polo pony power across the arena.

“Stormchaser…?” Mia gulped. Her heart leaped wildly. She didn’t understand – just one week ago, she’d cradled Storm’s head in her arms, certain that his fate was sealed. And now here he was, about to play in the Winter Cup! A hundred questions rushed into her head, but her throat tightened and the words wouldn’t come out.

“But… How come…” Charlie stuttered, looking as stunned as the other three.

Mr Pyke smiled, broadly. “One thing nobody should underestimate,” he said, nodding towards the bay, “is Stormchaser’s toughness. He is made of granite, not flesh and bone. I can’t think of another horse or pony who would have been able to shrug off the strong sedation the vet gave him and walk out of that ditch when the cattle grid was cut away. Not only that, he was able to bite the vet, kick Nick and charge at me only a few minutes later. The only one he didn’t lash out at was Estoni!”

“Storm just walked away with bruising and scratches,” Archie said, as the girls looked round at each other, amazed and relieved all at once. “He recovered from his injuries almost at once. He wasn’t even lame for more than a day!”

“He’s got you four to thank for that,” Mr Pyke said earnestly. “Stopping him before he reached the cattle grid was genius. It saved his life, there’s no doubt about that. Nick’s getting rid of that death trap, too. It’s first on his list of New Year’s resolutions!”

The girls grinned at him as the two teams lined up facing each other on either side of the arena. Suddenly the ball was thrown in, between the players, signalling the start of the first chukka. The crowd erupted into a huge cheer. The match was off. The commentator’s box was filled with squeals and cries as the ball flew between players in each short burst of play. The teams chased after the ball, leaning far out of their saddles without any apparent fear. The girls sat on the edges of their seats, thrilled by the fast paced and daring game in front of them. Stormchaser’s number
of chukkas was restricted because, as recovered as he was, Nick and Estoni didn’t want to push him. But every time he was in the arena, Rosie noticed that no other horse stood a chance against him, as he shouldered them off their line, allowing Estoni to make a play for the ball. Rosie was bursting with pride that her little mare had been brave enough to try and block his path,
and
had very nearly succeeded.

India sparkled, riding the swift Frostie. As the Pony Detectives watched the chukkas, Charlie suddenly realised something. Every time another polo pony closed in on Frostie, Stormchaser was by his side, as quick as a flash. He would barge in, protecting the more timid Frostie, releasing the smaller horse from the scrimmage so he could fly up the arena.

BOOK: Stormchaser and the Silver Mist
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