Confidential Letters to Lady Belle

When he finally arrived, he could not find the person he had come to see. There were many other horses; stallions, mares, foals, all pitch-black, all magnificent and enormous. He felt slightly overcrowded and unwanted. He looked around, a little bit lost. He had to swallow a few times and blink his tears away. He was offered the freedom of a large, shady paddock. He was offered water and grain, but he was neither hungry nor thirsty. He longed to be united with the person he had come all this way to help and heal.

She only arrived much later on that fragrant summers’ evening, quietly and inconspicuously. The stallion immediately recognised her, his heart leapt in his powerful chest. He had only met her once before, but he instantly knew that she was the one. He joyfully leaped around his field; she stared at him with large, alarmed eyes. He was somewhat taken aback, was she not thrilled to see him?

She approached very cautiously. He held his breath, and then blew through his nose. She froze. He tried to relax, stopped swishing his tail, willing her to come closer. After a while, she timidly opened and closed the gate behind her. She never took her eyes off him. She took a deep breath and walked towards him slowly, measuring each step. Initially, he stood as still as a statue, but eventually his emotions overcame him. In two powerful bounds he was right in front of her, tossing his abundant steel grey mane. She looked suspiciously as if she was going to faint. He was getting a bit worried.

He thought again of the first time he had seen her, in the land of his birth, far to the south. Many weeks ago now, she had stumbled into the stable block, clearly in pain. She was holding her side, breathing with difficulty, he thought she was crying. He had watched anxiously, unable to reach her, he could only look on as she slid to the floor. She was taken away, but he vowed silently that he would, one day, find her again.

Now she stands in front of him, swaying slightly, in this strange land of the gentle, jet-black giants. He snorted and backed off. He took off at full speed across the meadow. He tried to express his joy at seeing her again. He circled her again and again, hooves pounding the dry earth, until the dust rose in swirls, enclosing them in their own private world.

He stopped suddenly and looked at her closely. She looked petrified. He looked around to determine the cause of her fear, ready to defend her against any danger. He edged closer protectively, until they were separated by no more than a heartbeat.

He whipped his proud head around when he heard her voice. "Sacre bleu, mon Junot, vous vous calmez, sinon je vais avoir crise." A tremor ran through him. He did not understand the words, but the emotion was clearly identifiable. It was exactly like that fateful day, so long ago now, when he could not reach her. Today he could and did; he reached out body and soul towards her. At first she just leaned against him, ever so tentatively. He shifted his stance to accommodate her weight. With a sigh of relief she relaxed, her arms slid around his neck. His great heart sang, and overflowed with love for her. Their eyes met for a long moment. Understanding passed between them. He could see the fear settle behind her eyes, then dissolve and evaporate. Her breathing stilled, her heart rate slowed. Was that a flicker of hope he saw or was it too early to make such an assumption?