Chapter Fourteen: Fly Away

I trotted ahead of my herd, scoping the area for any predators. None that I could see or smell. Hearing my high safety whinny, Sonny, Tumbleweed, Thistle and Birdy trotted forward. Pride swelled my heart. I was the head stallion now. It was a tough job, but worth it. Tumbleweed and Thistle gave me the same awed looks they had given Zephyr before, and even Birdy treated me with new respect.

Birdy, panting slightly from the strenuous non-stop moving we had done for a few hours. But she was breathing harder than normally needed. I nosed her.

"You all right?"

"Fine," She snorted, then moved along.

"This has not been one of her better days," Sonny muttered, sidling up to me. I bobbed my head in agreement. Lately, it seemed like none of Birdy's days were her 'better days'. I tried to console myself with the thought that it was a fact of life that old horses die. Birdy was twenty-six...

Still.

She had become a close friend of mine. Not as close as Summer Sky, but close. Birdy was wise and didn't give up. A good mare.

A strange scent that I didn't recognize tickled my nostrils, and I winced. Something was different about it...

That's when I knew why it was so different.

A small herd of a stallion and three mares walked uphill. I noticed there were also two yearlings in the herd, and each mare had a foal.

And I knew one of those mares.

A dun with a snip, and yet not as slender as she had been before, now rounded from having a foal. My eyes widened in amazement as she lumbered up(being in foal had not treated her well).

Queenie!

I struck at the ground, startled. Memories came flooding back, of when Ram had stolen her. Well, not really stolen her, she was just my companion, my half-sister. We shared the same sire!

I turned my head to gauge my band's reactions. Sonny, Tumbleweed and Thistle looked just as any stallion would-interested. But Birdy had noticed my startled reaction to seeing the herd. She walked up to my side.

"Who are they?" She asked curiously.

"The dun is my half-sister, Queenie," I nickered. "We have the same sire."

For some reason, hearing that Queenie and were both Hidalgo's foals seemed to cause Birdy to be very quiet. I scanned her face. Her eyes. The mousy brown mare seemed stunned.

"What's wrong?" I snorted.

"Nothing..."

I heard a high, excited, confused whinny.

"Desert Sun?"

Queenie had called my name.

This was not good.

Ram whirled his head to see Queenie's face, then looked at me. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. I could tell that he was searching his memory for who I was. I had changed a lot since being a two-year-old colt who had barely lived on his own for long.

He neighed anxiously to his lead mare, a bulky roan. She spotted why he was looking nervous, and turned, leading the rest of the small herd away. At first, Queenie didn't obey, watching me, looking ready for me to answer, but Ram nipped her sharply, and she turned, her foal at her side.

Her foal.

It seemed like I had not noticed her foal until now. A well-fed colt, the same flea-bitten gray color as his sire.

As the herd wandered off, Ram turned back to me. He was taking a risk. As the band was leaving, another stallion could go and steal them.

Steal them...

None of the mares were really that beautiful-they hadn't kept in shape. But then again, a mare was a mare.

Before I could try though, it was Thistle. My eyes widened as the little dun colt-he was only three years old-sped off as fast as he could after the mares as Ram stared at me. I have to give it to him, he was galloping hard enough to beat the stallion.

Ram, stunned, gave a squeal of surprise and rage as Thistle whipped past him, and galloped down the bluff after him. I felt powerless-Thistle was my herdmate, but there was nothing I could do... it wasn't my battle.

A few seconds later, Thistle was, amazingly, back, and herding a mare and her foal uphill. Of course, it wasn't just any mare.

It was Queenie.

I didn't know what to think. Have Queenie with an inexperienced stallion, or a terribly bossy one? Her colt, a weanling, was galloping as fast as he could.

But Ram was hot on their heels.

Now excited, Sonny and Tumbleweed were whinnying in encouragment, giving bucks and half-rears. Birdy was simply wide-eyed, obviously surprised Thistle had made it that far in his plan.

"Idiot," She snorted, could not keep a note of motherly worry out of her voice.

Ram, ears laced back, raked his teeth down Thistle's back, leaving long tears, but that didn't stop Thistle. Queenie and her foal didn't know what to do; I think it was partly the fact that Queenie wanted to visit with me that kept her going in order of this younger stallion.

Finally, realizing that he couldn't go on any longer, Thistle turned to meet Ram's attack. I winced. This would not be good. Visions of a fierce battle went through my head...

Ram would win.

I knew it.

The stallion sank his teeth into Thistle's face, and the colt gave a squeal, veering and kicking out, but missing. All he had done was play with the other stallions in the band.

"He doesn't have a chance," I snorted.

"Not one," Birdy agreed.

"I think he can do it," Kind Sonny said. But even this was half-hearted.

We watched as Thistle and Ram danced, kicking, squealing, biting, striking... 'til finally, as predicted, Thistle got his sense back and gave up.

He was covered in bruises. Long scratched ripped at his skin. Even his hooves seemed sore as he walked tenderly back toward us, head bowed.

I watched as Queenie was chased back with her foal by Ram. She turned her head and gave one last sorrowful whinny. I shuddered.

That was the last time I ever saw my sister.

I don't know what happened to her. Maybe she died unnaturally, maybe she'll die in her sleep of old age. Maybe her son would become a great stallion, maybe he would be killed by cougars...

I don't know.

"Poor thing," Birdy sighed, her eyes on Queenie. But something made me suspicious.

Was Birdy linked to us more than I thought?

xxx

I lipped at the grass thoughtfully that evening, thinking of Queenie. Maybe I should have done more. Was I a coward for not acting?

Birdy walked over to my side. "You're thinking of your half-sister," She guessed.

I paused, worried. What would she think?

"Yes."

"That's natural," Birdy nickered. "You grew up together."

"I just wish I could have done something..." I sighed.

Birdy snorted. "What could you have done? You're a strong stallion, Sun, and you might have been able to take her back... but what would come of it? She's young, she wouldn't want to just hang around like I do... You'd have to hand her over to one of the others, and though their nice youngsters, even that Sonny isn't ready."

"True."

Birdy nosed me. "Letting her go was the best you could do," She soothed. "Besides, you wouldn't want a little colt running around and bothering you, would you?"

I whinnied with laughter. "True again."

xxx

A few days passed. It was a hot summer afternoon when I noticed that Birdy was coughing even more than usual. She was stumbling every now and then, and I pricked my ears, wondering...

"Are you all right?" I asked, sidling up to her.

"Fine," She coughed. "I just-"

But she collapsed, her body writhing with hacking coughs. Fear pierced through my heart. This couldn't be happening.

"Sun!" Birdy choked out. "Don't just stand there! You'll get seperated from the band..."

Sonny stepped up beside me. "Sun," He murmured. "It's over. You need to just-"

"No!" I lunged at him, teeth bared, and he was barely able to avoid me. His odd eyes were sad.

"Please catch up soon. I can't lead this herd."

He turned and loped off.

I bent my head low so I was near Birdy, looking into her eyes. "Birdy," I begged my friend. "Please-"

"Sun," She sighed. "I'm an old mare. There's nothing more for me."

"There's plenty," I protested. "You're very wise, and-"

"As wise as I may be," She snorted, still able to make her tone dry. "A band of bachelors doesn't need an old mare around." Her eyes were glazing, and her voice was becoming faint. The mare's sides were shuddering as they rose up and down. It seemed to take her more strength than ever to breathe.

"But before I die," She whispered. "I need to tell you something."

"What?" I asked nervously.

"Desert Sun," Birdy murmured. "Eleven years ago... eleven years ago I gave birth to my last foal. A healthy colt. Something about him told me he was special. He was a handsome thing, a sorrel pinto with dark eyes... he looked a lot like... you."
I froze.

"Birdy-"

"Ssh," She croaked. "I named him Justice. We were so close... but when he was around four months old, we were separated in a stampede... he was renamed Hidalgo by a kind Twoleg who took him in... and made him a legend."

My eyes widened. "Birdy? You're my-"

"Grandmother?" She gave a feeble laugh. "Yes. I just wish... I wish I could have known you... better."

Her eyes suddenly closed.

"Birdy!" I cried. "No!"

But it was too late. Birdy sighed, and was still. I closed my eyes, brushig my muzzle along her side.

"Goodbye, Birdy," I nickered. "Fly away. Fly away home."
xxx

Awww... anyway, here's a semi sneak-peek of Painted Freedom: Great Spirit Horse, my next Hidalgo fic...

Main Characters

Painted Freedom- Beautiful sorrel pinto medicine hat filly with arab face

Patriot- Tame stallion who lives on a ranch, excellent breeding, quarter horse, sorrel, blaze, two socks

Crescent Moon, aka Moon Over Battle Grounds- Tall mustang stallion who lives in a Blackfoot Indian tribe. A strikingly handsome horse with a perfect crescent moon on his forhead, midnight black coat