Our story, called “The Scars of a Friend”, tells what happens when ‘the broken’ are accepted rather than cast aside and forgotten. In our last post Azhar met a glorious stallion and  was taken on a wild ride. What will Azhar do with the horse?

As the day began to lose its light, horse and rider cantered into the stable yard. Azhar did not call for the stable master to attend to his horse, as was his usual custom. Instead, he slipped from the horse’s back, gently clasped its bridle, and led the stallion into the stall closest to the house, the one that had remained empty for so long.

He took the currycomb and as he brushed away the dirt and dust, he could feel the beat of the horse’s heart, hear the rhythm of its breath. “You run as if you are riding the wind,” he whispered. “That’s what I shall call you: Wind Rider.”

After that, Wind-Rider was the only horse that Azhar would ride. He never put a saddle on the horse, never allowed anyone else to groom or ride him. When Wind-Rider heard Azhar’s footsteps in the yard, his ears pricked up. He leaned his head over the stall gate and greeted his master with a soft whinny. Every day the two would ride out into the untamed places. Fishermen watched as they galloped along the gravel beach where the surf crashed into the craggy cliffs. The villagers looked up and saw horse and rider silhouetted against the pale sky as they rode along the ridge. Soon everyone in that town knew that the dapple-gray horse who had run away from the red-sailed ship had found a home in Azhar’s stable.

What will become of these soul mates?

Next time: “What the Robbers Stole”