A Blood Red Horse by K. M. Grant Page A

way. Ellie found herself surrounded.
    â€œGo away,” she cried. “Go away and leave us in peace.”
    â€œWell really,” said Adam. “I only ask because you’ve got straw in your hair. Hey, Gavin. You know your father is always asking who will marry this grubby girl? Isn’t it supposed to be you? By the Virgin, you will have your hands full. When you have children, they’ll probably be foals!”
    Ellie tried to pass, but Adam prevented her. “What’s the hurry?” he asked. “Gavin, aren’t you going to say farewell to your intended, even if she is more worried about that red horse than she will ever be about you?”
    The three young men thought it a great jape to pretend to be Hosanna, galloping round and round Ellie, then crashing at her feet as if dying from exhaustion. As they ran, they kicked the sack, and Hosanna’s hay went everywhere.
    Ellie stood helplessly, praying for Gavin to intervene. But he did nothing, just turned away and fiddled with Montlouis’s girth, muttering that Ellie was asking for trouble if she went around dragging sacks as if she were a servant. At last his friends got tired of their sport and, with a few parting ribald remarks, went to find their own horses. As soon as they were round the corner, Ellie plunged her hands into her pockets and eventually found what she was looking for.
    â€œHere,” she said to Gavin, her voice shaking with fury and shame. “Here. I don’t want this dog anymore. I hate you.”
    Gavin stared at her. “For goodness’ sake, Ellie,” he said. “Hosanna is just an animal. William can always get another.”
    â€œYou know nothing.” Ellie tried to keep her voice from sounding shrill and silly. “And if you really do think that about Hosanna, I have even more reason for wanting nothing to do with you. If you won’t take this dog, I’ll just throw it into the gutter.”
    Gavin laughed uncertainly. “Do what you like,” he said, and turned back to his horse so that Ellie could not see his face.
    Ellie hesitated only for a second, then she let the wooden dog fall from her hand into the ruined hay. Without another word, she turned on her heel and ran toward Hosanna’s loose box.
    Gavin continued to fiddle with his saddle. Then he called loudly for Humphrey and Mark, shouting that he, for one, was off. Mark came running to help Gavin mount, leaving another groom to bring out the packhorses.
    â€œHurry up!” barked Gavin. Mark held his stirrup. Gavin put one foot in, hesitated, and looked quickly at the ground. The wooden dog was lying where Ellie had dropped it. Swearing under his breath, Gavin bent down, picked it up, and put it in the pouch that hung from his belt. Then he glared at Mark, mounted Montlouis, and, leaving everybody else to catch him up, galloped over the drawbridge and down the hill on to the north road.
    On the fifth day after Gavin left, Hosanna opened his eyes and began to shift himself. Ellie, who had been asleep leaningon his flank, woke to find herself sliding into the straw. By the time she realized what had happened, Hosanna had hauled himself into a sitting position, his nose resting on his knees. The cloths had fallen off, revealing legs made fat with swellings. Nevertheless, the horse was nibbling at the straw.
    â€œWilliam,” whispered Ellie, then jumped up and ran out. “Get Master William,” she ordered a passing groom. “Quick.” Hal was asleep in the corner, and she kicked him until he woke up.
    By the time William, who was snatching a few hours’ sleep on the rushes in the great hall, arrived, Hosanna was chewing on a handful of peas. His eyes were dull and his coat matted, but he was halfway up. By evening he was standing, and by the following week he was well enough to walk slowly and stiffly to the river. He stood for hours as the cold running water did its healing work, his head