The Lance
September/October 2011
ART ALIVE
Page 13
Geese on the Lake Regina Marie ‘15
MARE
(Continued from Page 12)
cheeks, but also turned his ears crim
son. Lara looked around the bam, her
face still held its exasperated expression,
as if to verify with the long furry faces
hung over stall doors what had just hap
pened.
“Um...ah... yeah, they’re ready,” he
still babbled, trying to gain his compo
sure. “They’re down here,” he said as he
moved off toward the back of the barn.
The last stall, a huge stall generally used
for birthing, was oddly occupied by an
inconspicuous dark honey buckskin
gelding and a tall, grand palomino stal
lion. Both nickered with recognition,
but only the gelding stretched his dain
ty head out to nuzzle Lara as she
approached. Lucas held the lantern over
his head and Lara could see that both
creatures were sufficiently packed, as
was arranged this morning when Lara’s
father announced she would have to
make the delivery of the palomino
alone.
After sailing in the royal navy Lara’s
father had left the sea when he met her
mother, refusing to put her through the
torture every sailor’s wife went through,
the anxiety of wondering if he would
ever come home. Settling near the sea
though, Lara’s father took to breeding
horses. To say his horses were the best in
the country was an understatement.
Kings from foreign lands had come to
his very door to beg for a horse for their
princes.
The activities of the night were rou
tine; the grand palomino was to be
delivered to the king’s royal stables
under cover of night for the duress of
“Think Globally, Act Locally”
the four day trip. The only difference
was Lara would be going alone, solely
responsible for the horses in her charge,
not just accompanying her father on
holiday.
“Excellent,” she sighed after apprais
ing her charges. “Well,” she breathed
turning back to Lucas and casually slap
ping her hands against her thighs
(which were dressed in riding britches.)
“Wish me luck,” she said, hunching her
shoulders up about her ears and extend
ing her arms for a farewell hug. Lucas
embraced her brotherly, leaning his
forehead against hers; he was just barely
taller than she, though that was no
mean feat.
“Good luck,” he murmured. She held
him at arms’ length and examined his
face. She cocked her head and gave him
(See MARE, Page 14)