in a gear bag until she found a roll of gamgee bandage.
Issie sat up, still feeling groggy. “What time is it?”
“It’s nearly ten,” Stella said.
Ten! No wonder the sky had looked so blue. She should have been awake hours ago. The cross-country would be underway already!
“It’s OK. Everything is under control,” Stella said. “Tom told me to leave you to sleep in.”
Nightstorm’s bout of colic had kept Issie up until the early hours of the morning. She hadn’t wanted to leave her horse’s side but at five a.m. Avery finally insisted that she go back and get some sleep.
“Stella will stay with him,” Avery told her. “You need to rest. You’ve still got Victory to ride tomorrow.”
Stella finished packing the gamgee bandages in the kit bag and slung it over her shoulder.
“Storm’s doing much better,” she said, anticipating Issie’s question. “Maurice came to check on him again at around eight this morning and he’s pretty sure that he’s over the worst of it. He might have a few more stomach pains over the next twenty-four hours but he’s going to make a complete recovery.”
“Thanks, Stella,” Issie said gratefully.
Stella looked like she was going to burst into tears. “I’m so sorry, Issie. I should have realised when he wasn’t eating that something was wrong…”
“There was no way you could have known he was going to get colic,” Issie told her.
Stella looked miserable. “You should be riding him today. He would have gone clear around that cross-country course. I know it.”
Issie swallowed down hard on her disappointment. She didn’t want to make Stella feel any worse, but deep down she was devastated. Yesterday she had been in third place after the dressage. Now, her hopes of taking the trophy on the big bay stallion were destroyed. But her chances weren’t completely lost. She still had her second mount to ride. She had to pull herself together, get out of bed and get ready for battle. Victory was due to tackle the four-star course that afternoon.
The green fields of Badminton Estate, usually populated by sheep, were home to over a hundred and fifty thousand spectators on cross-country day. Everywhere that Issie looked there were people crammed up against the rope barriers, all trying to get into the best possible position to see the action.
The Tannoy crackled, then Mike Partridge resumed his commentary. “What a morning it has been! The course here at Badminton has proved to be one of the most challenging in the history of the event and has upset many a combination of horse and rider. Only five clear rounds have been completed so far. Gerhardt Muller on Velluto Rosso is hoping to add to that tally and make it six. He’s clear so far as they head towards the water complex…”
As Issie rode Victory into the warm-up arena, she caught sight of William Fox-Pitt and Piggy French, both mounted up and ready to ride and her heart skipped a beat. The most famous faces in the sport of eventing were here today and the atmosphere in the stadium was electric.
Issie still couldn’t quite believe that she was about to ride one of the most famous cross-country courses in the world!
Don’t think about the pressure, she told herself firmly, focus on the task ahead. She looked across the main arena and concentrated her eye on the first fence, the flowerbed. From there, she let her mind ride the course, mentally cantering and galloping through it, committing to memory the turns and checks that she would make before each obstacle. As she did this, she was only slightly aware that Victory too was beginning to grow tense. The brown gelding was swishing his tail in consternation. Tacked up in his cross-country kit, his front and hind legs smothered with white grease to help him to slide more easily over the solid jumps, he knew that their time had almost come. He was keyed up and anxious to get out on the course and there was already a lather of white sweat on his neck from anticipation as Avery took hold of his reins and led him towards the start box.
“There have been quite a few run-outs at that brush element in Huntsman’s Close,” Avery told Issie as he walked her forward. “Make sure you keep your line to that corner and don’t rush it.”
“OK,” Issie nodded.
“And kick on as you come into the water. You need to get three big strides in before you strike that middle element. A lot of riders have tried to put in a fourth stride and come to grief.”
Even though he had already checked her girth at least five times, Avery now gave it one more final check. Issie noticed that he was trembling a little as he took the girth straps in his hands. Her trainer looked up at her and that was when she saw the concern in his eyes.
Issie knew exactly what he was thinking. The Badminton cross-country course was six and a half kilometres of hard galloping and enormous fences. Considered to be the ultimate test of fitness in a horse, it was also a test of rider stamina – and after last night’s drama in the stables Issie was sleep-deprived and running on empty. Tackling a course like this in her condition was dangerous. All it would take was a moment’s inattention, a fleeting loss of focus, and she would be in big trouble. This fear was etched over Avery’s face. He knew just how challenging this course was and he was desperately worried about her.
“Issie…” Avery began.
She cut him off before he could say anything more.
“Tom, please, don’t. I’ll be fine.”
Issie wasn’t giving up – not now! Victory was still in with a real chance. They had been in eighth place after the dressage but already over the past few hours the cross-country course had taken its toll on the leaderboard. Eliminations and refusals in the top ranks meant that a clear round on the cross-country would elevate Issie up to fifth place at the very least.
Avery saw the look of grim determination on her face and he knew he would never be able to change her mind. “Good luck,” he said. “Remember, if in doubt…”
“I know,” Issie grinned at him, “kick on!”
Avery let go of the reins and Issie had a few final seconds to make her last adjustments, checking her compulsory airtech inflatable vest and setting the stopwatch on her wrist. She had the timer set so that she knew exactly where she needed to be on the clock at the minute markers around the course. It wasn’t good enough to go clear – she would have to avoid time penalties too.
Issie tightened her grip on the reins and urged Victory into the box. The gelding tried to leap forward and Issie had to pull hard on the reins, turning a circle in the box behind the start line.
“Easy, boy,” Issie said to him in a soft voice, “Any minute now…”
She clasped the reins in one hand and placed the other hand on the stopwatch button as the starting steward spoke into his walkie-talkie to confirm that the other competitors out on the course were far enough ahead.
“We’re all clear to jump 12,” the voice at the other end of the walkie-talkie crackled. “You can let the next rider go.”
Issie
