The chestnut stallion grazed on the lush grass in the meadow, seemingly unaware of the cougar that was slinking closer every minute. His ears twitched, but other than that he kept grazing. The wind rustled through the green stems and he lifted his head, looking left to right, smelling the air. The cougar had worked its way downwind and was now closing in on the stallion as he returned to his meal. The cougar knew that the time had come and prepared to lunge himself at the mustang, but, as if on que, the stallion looked between his legs at the cat and jumped aside as it landed in a heap where he had stood a second ago.

The chestnut reared and threw his front legs at the mountain lion, warning it to keep its distance. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to take the horse down now, the cat crept away as silently and as quickly as it had arrived. Once he was sure it had gone, the stallion dropped back on all fours and turned to the class of six youngsters. "Alright, what was my mistake and what was the trick?" Spuro asked them.

Muskrat, Zac and Dillon just lay in the grass in their usual trio and snorted as they shook away the flies. Muskrat was a bay and tended to lead the lazy habits of the three young mustangs, while Dillon, a grey, followed his lead in every way possible, eager to keep his new best friend, and Zac, a short, chubby black tabiano, simply tagged along because he was frightened of being left on his own. Spuro knew that poor Zac could have a chance if he strode for independance, but at the rate they were going at none of the three youngsters would make it through the trials. He still remembered losing his two friends on that horribe day, but at least he managed to spend another two years with Leon before he, too, was killed.

Pride, however, was a different matter altogether. He showed off too much, and so Spuro found his name amussingly fitting. But he let himself down at times; within the first month of being tutored he had taken to gambling , and although he was good, he wasn't good enough against the captains. Privates didn't have much to bet due to their rank, but the stubborn quarter horse mix found it eady enough to fritter away his break times, and Spuro made sure he trained for every second that he lost in a bet, hoping that he would learn someday soon and let him eat instead of exhausting himself. Because of this, the youngster was bony and poorly defended.

The two most promising students were Tay and Copper, a black stallion who had jumped straight into the tutoring after being arrested, like Spuro himself, and a chestnut who has spent his last year as a pupil under Spuro when he was merely an officer. It felt good to have some connections, it made Spuro feel more like a senior than if he was alone. Tay and Copper weren't supirior fighters, unlike Pride (then again, he got more practice when he should have been resting), but they listened to his advice and tried their best to act upon it, again, unlike Pride.

Copper was about to open his mouth to speak, but Pride shouted from the back, "You're trick was that he thought you weren't defending, but you knew he was there the whole time!"

"Thankyou, Pride," Spuro sighed. "And my mistake?"

"You were upwind, so you were asking for trouble," Tay replied quickly, determined to answer before Pride started glowing with vain again.

"There we go!" Spuro grinned, "It's very easy to turn yourself around while eating, that's why you have to lift your head and smell constantly to find ot which way the wind was blowing. If I hadn't asked Van to join me for the demonstration, I would be dead. Remember: defence first, attack second. Look before you leap, eceterah... Now go and have a break - except for you, Pride. James is coming round in a few minutes to check that you're keeping to the deal."

The five mustangs neighed in laughter as they ambled off to drink and graze, leaving the roan standing with his head low, opposite to his usual stance. Sure enough, James appeared a few minutes later to see the youngster going through the four defence positions. Spuro lumbered over to his friend and they watched the detention together.

James had been like a father to him so far, only better. The only parenting Spuro had received from his dad was the nagging sort, but James let him go at his own pace and didn't lay down the law - Spuro just worked it out for himself, and that was the way he liked it. He found it strange that James and his friend Nickle were the two horses on duty that reported, tested and captured him when he first came across the Band, and now they worked side by side every day. James had fought his corner when he had been accused of tretchary, and he was willing to do the same if ever the moment rose. The draft and quarter horse crossbred was his father, teacher and most of all his best friend.

"Alright, Pride," James sighed, "have the rest of your break, we need to go to the Counsil. Come on, Spuro."

Over the last few years there had been bumps along the way in developing the territory - flash floods, droughts, high winds, lightning fires, soil corrosion - but the workers had pulled through in the end and now the only areas that lacked fresh, cool grass were the gullies and the Counsil. At least most of the gullies had streams now so the sentries wouldn't suffer from severe thirst while they were on Duty. The Counsil was only a small patch anyway, consisting of boulders and platforms stacked against the wall of the ditch known as the Centre. The only reason the tiny, dusty meeting place was dry was because it was used constantly, and the ground was worn down by the relentless presence of hooves.

As they neared the Counsil, Spuro spotted Pirate, a scarred and mighty dunalino mustang, on his usual platform, high above the other horses, symbolising his reign of power over them all. Until he had been promoted to a captain, all he was allowed to refer to him as was their 'leader', or, in Band slang, 'the boss'. Spuro remembered his mother, Jade - he wondered if she was even alive any more -, telling stories about a cruel human named Boss. He often thought the two would get along well. But he had seen what Pirate had done to wild horses - it was all around him.

Even though he had sworn to be loyal to his leader, even though he appeared to be an upstanding captain, Spuro still remembered what his four friends had told him on his first day in the Band, and no matter how close he and the leader got, he would still hold a resentment against him for creating this man-like world of war, built by slaves for a single soul's revenge. The plan was to build up the Band's strength and attack neighbouring herds and steal the mares, later to split them among the stallions according to rank.

And it seemed that Pirate was getting restless.

"Ah, James and Spuro, good timing," Pirate greeted them, "I want to introduce you to somebody." The dunalino hopped from his ledge up to the meadows and waited for them. Spuro and James looked at each other, then followed obidiently.

"As you know," Pirate announced to the captains, who had all gathered to hear the news, "Tuco, Captain of Systematics, was killed with honour in the arena yesterday. He was a skilled fighter, and an admirable member of this herd. But he knew the risks, so when he placed his title as his stakes he knew that he might not get it back. When he realised that he had lost his place, he chose to die rather than live a life less than he deserved. So now, we are to welcome our new Captain of Systematics: Ghost."

Spuro's stomach dropped in horror. The champagne dun made his way through the group of senior stallions, receiving congratulations from all around. Only James and Spuro remained silent; even Nickle went to greet the new member, unaware of his brutal nature. At last the stallion turned to them.

"Well look who it is," he said in a low tone, glaring at Spuro beneath a smile, "Captain of Offencive Units, I have to say I never saw it coming."

"How did you get to become a captain?" Spuro thundered. "You don't deserve a title like it, you murdering animal!"

Ghost laughed it off easily. "Like you heard, I beat the previous one. And he could have surrendered, he chose to die."

"I wasn't talking about Tuco," Spuro snarled, "I was talking about Bramble. The captain was a good match for you, but my friend never stood a chance."

Ghost rounded on him, muttering, "May I remind you, that you are no savior, either. You've caused your fair share of casualties over the years, don't go playing innocent on me. I know the truth, and I always have." He pushed close into his face. "When Leon was left to my mercy, he told me all about your little plot. Too bad I have no mercy, so ending his life was worth it just to see you squirm right now."

"Enough!" James shouted, cutting between them before Spuro could retort. "You are both upstanding captains of the Band, if you want to fight, do it in your own time. But this is no way to behave." He looked at Spuro sadly. "He won the fight fair and square, Spuro, he won the stakes, too. And that means he earned the title. However, that is no reason for him to start accusing another captain." He glared at his former star pupil. "The second Tuco's last breath left his body, you became a Captain of the Band. That means you have more freedoms than other herd members, but that does not mean you can rub your aurthority in their faces. Any more arguements between the two of you will result in the me and Linx discussing your punishments. Understood?"

He was fuming. He knew that Ghost would do his best to ruin his life, and expose him. He knew about Denver's escape, about the plot, about everything. He just lacked evidence. It was unclear to Spuro who he could trust with information in the future. Even Leon, one of his closest friends from the day he arrived four years ago, had given away dangerous truths. It seemed that what he was most in need of was a friend.

He stood still once he realised he had been pacing. It was the middle of the night and the rest of the Band was asleep aside from the sentries. James and Nickle were on duty, and he was comfortable with talking to them. So he made his way across the grass and into the Centre, now void of activity aside from the wind through the grass, and continued up the slope and up to the planes.

He looked up and saw Shortie's piece of woodland. Maybe the wise old mustang could give him some advice, along the lines of keeping enemies at bay. He knew he had to shut out all thoughts of his past, otherwise the ancient horse might sense them. At least it was rumored that he could see into your mind, or maybe his story of the trials had got somehow muddled up with it.

He stood outside the ring of trees, gathering up his words, when he heard a rasping voice say, "Enter." He obeyed, now feeling the familiar sense of fear in his stomach as he neared the visionary. Shortie stood under the light of the moon, with no guards or means of protection. "You wanted to talk to me," he said, not asking, but stating.

Spuro nodded. "I fear for my safety, and of what an enemy might do to me if I am not careful."

"Why?"

Spudo was knocked off course. He hadn't expected to be asked why. "I know why," the white horse smiled, "you regret crossing him. Your life would have been simpler, and you would not have had to defeat him. The first time was hard enough, and a second battle would seem impossible to win."

"True, but I can take a fight, I don't mind being hurt. It's my honour at stake," Spuro replied.

"If you've done nothing wrong, he can't hurt you," Shortie answered simply. Then he grinned slyly. "But that depends the definition of wrong doing. What have you done wrong?"

Spuro knew he couldn't answer. He remembered what he had thought not long ago about who he could and couldn't trust. Would Shortie protect him, or ruin him? He knew that if his past was exposed, he would receive more than a test with Van. The entire Band would be set up him - maybe even Pirate himself - and he wouldn't stand a chance of surviving such an attack.

"Well?" Shortie asked.

Spuro shook his head. The old horse sighed and looked at the moon through blinded eyes. "The world needs balance. If you've done something wrong, then you must be punished, unless you do something right before others are hurt further."

"But what if I did something wrong when I was only trying to do something right?" Spuro pleaded. It was all he was trying to do - help them.

"Then you must decide whether it was worth it. If it wasn't, accept the punishment coming to you. If it was, be confident and loose your fears. And to be sure, commit a good deed." He looked back down at him and smiled gently. "A good place to start would be to trust someone for a change."

Spuro said goodbye and left the clearing in search of James and Nickle. He tried to make sense of the visionary's responce to his questions. He was scared of Ghost because of his determination and cruel nature, and he was terrified of the dun getting one over him. As hard as he tried, Spuro couldn't be angry with Leon, he must have been in so much pain because of that monster, no wonder he spilled - it had been a final, desparate attempt to save his life. And it had failed. But he was only scared of the Band finding out the truth - especially Pirate - because he knew what he had done had broken their laws.

And yet, was it the wrong thing to do at all? His parents had always told him to play by the rules (not that he had as a colt, but since he had joined this herd he had learned his place quickly), and so after swearing oaths and pledging loyalty to his leader, it seemed that he almost deserved the title of a traitor.

Almost, though, just almost. The Band surpressed many values of a true life - freedom, equality, non-violence were some of the few. What about the slaves who tended to the territory, who were worked to the ground before being turned over as cougar fodder? What about youngsters like Bramble and Denver, who, no matter how much they trained or tried, were no match in the arena? And what about the twisted system of leader, captains, officers and privates, one having the authority over the other? If anyone had done wrong, it was Pirate, for destroying the lives of hundreds of wild horses, making a mockery of what was known as the wild, where animals could be free. So Spuro's actions against the dictator were merely his punishment. One day, Pirate would feel the blow of justice. As the chestnut stallion approached his friends, he decided that time was running out, and if he didn't act soon, Pirate would give the word to attack herds in the valley. He couldn't let that happen.

"You want to do what?" James hissed, careful not to draw attention to themselves.

He, Nickle and Spuro were standing under the cover of darkness at their sentry post, with not another herdy in sight for miles. Spuro had made them give their word that they would not repeat what he was about to tell them, whether they agreed with him or not, and after they had sworn to secrecy, Spuro had told them his plans. Nickle had his eyes tightly shut and was very quiet, obviously thinking, but James was doing all he could from holding back from knocking some sense into the boy.

"You're out of your mind, Spuro, you're a Senior Captain, for goodness sake! Do you want to throw that away at the beginning of the year, with new officers ready to step up and take your place? Do you?" he whispered quickly.

"Look," Spuro reasoned, looking him in the eye, "I'm not planning on any action just yet, I just want the team to be prepared. Pirate won't wait long before he starts sending out scouts to find the first herd. We can't let that happen."

"Spuro," Nickle sighed, opening his eyes, "I know your reasoning, but the Band has gathered in great force over the last couple of years, every member would be executed immeadiately if they were found out, including us three. It only takes one horse to kill us all."

"Absolutely insane," James muttered to himself, turning away. Spuro moved infront of him, blocking his way.

"Fine, then this stays between us. That was just a warning that things might start up again, but we'll leave it until there are plans to attack, how about that?" The two other captains nodded in agreement. "But it won't be long, mark my words, Ghost will make sure of that."

Over the next few weeks it seemed that somebody in the three had let the word slip to another member of the group. Several times Spuro received a nod from a distance herdy, showing him they were prepared if he called on them. He suspected it was James, his mood must have gotten the best of him and he must have fumed to another horse.

But it was a tense time for the young captain, especially when it came to training his pupils. Muskrat and Dillion were starting to stick together more, leaving Zac out and alone to face Pride's skills in the lessons. Also, Spuro could relate Pride's overconfidence to that of Jupiter's. His friend had lost his mind and became obsessed with victory in battle. By betting his free time as his stakes in fights, and training up to compete stronger opponents, Spuro could see the same fate unfolding for the youngster.

Tay and Copper were coming along nicely, but that left a problem for Spuro - he would have to concentrate on one. Only one of the six could win their trials and make it to the rank of officer at the end of the year, and unless Pride managed to change his ways and make it to the end of the year, it meant that the two friends would have to face each other in an actual fight.

While he was observing the events of the Band, Spuro lifted the training slightly and decided to make sure his concerns were known. He started with Zac. The poor lad still had a chance in the trials, but he needed to let go. Spuro found him by the pond one break time and decided to take the oppotunity while he was alone.

"You know, they do say that three's a crowd," he said gently, making the youngster face him. "Butted out?"

He nodded. "It isn't personal, son, but I don't think you should waste another second on them. I'm not saying give them the silent treatment, but just let them kiss each other until they're sick of each other's company. When they come back begging for you, you can choose to welcome them back or to tell them where they can stick it."

The pinto laughed a little. "Do you think I could become a good fighter?" he asked, looking out across the grass.

"You're already a good fighter, that's why you're being tutored. You lack confidence, Zac, and Pride has too much of it. I don't want you two training together any more. Muskrat can work with him. Hopefully he'll learn to put in some effort or face the pain."

"Then what am I doing wrong?" he sighed.

"You've just been hanging around the wrong horses, Zac. If you're accepted, noticed and cared about - like proper friends should do - you'll feel better about yourself. You can train with me at break some time if you want, it'll give you a boost. I don't bite." He paused, then added, "Unless it's an actual battle." He winked, and headed off to graze.

Zac looked at his reflection in the water. His teacher was right - Muskrat and Dillon weren't the right people to befriend. He was tired of being pushed about by them. He was overweight and wimpy, but he would change that. By the end of the spring it would be impossible to tell what he looked like now. The scouting herdies were built to tackle all terrain and weather, their strength and stamina was incredible. Surely they would have tips on how to get into shape?

Spuro thought that Pride drained his confidence. In a few months they would be equals. It would be a lot of hard work, and he would have to train and focus almost constantly, but it would be worth it. If his captain believed he had the potential, he could do it.

"This time, Pride, you're going to spend your detention being lectured," Spuro said firmly, leading the roan away from the others. They lay down under the shade of a tree and chewed on the cool grass as they spoke.

"How many bets have you actually won, Pride?" he asked.

The youngster shrugged. "I dunno, ten? Twelve?"

"Out of how many, then?"

He paused, shifting nervously in his place. "About, fifty," he replied quietly, clearly embarrassed.

"Then why do you bother?" Spuro sighed, shaking his head. "You don't have to place stakes, lad. If you want to challenge higher opponents, wait for the full moon and enter in the games. Winners receive extra breaks, and you don't lose anything if you surrender.

"Look, I had a horse in my tutor group who was similar to you; strong, proud, magnificent fighter. But over the months he became obsessed with winning fights, and in the end it killed him. James killed him, when the foolish brute challenged the captain. You're a good asset to the Band, Pride, don't let it all go to your head. Keep your four feet firmly on the ground if you want to survive to the end of the year."Spuro got up and walked away, leaving his student to ponder over his words. He doubted that he would listen - but this was his last chance. Spuro wouldn't warn him again.

James and Spuro were grazing together in the Centre when Nickle approached them. There was a meeting on at the Counsil, which all captain had to attend. They trotted to the headquarters, Spuro hanging his head low all the way. No doubt that meant that Ghost would be there. The stubborn mule would no doubt try and ruin his reputation. James nudged him in the shoulder, reading his thoughts, to give him some encouragement.

Sure enough, Ghost was there, standing right next to Pirate and chatting nicely. Spuro rolled his eyes and approached the group of five stallions. The meeting started with a report on the Band's forces (lead by Ghost and the captains of each area), which Pirate already knew. Once the report was finished he took his usual place on his outcrop.

"So it is clear to you, now, that we have all we need to begin the preparations. Our scouting parties are highly trained, our defences are indestructable and our attack units are unstoppable. Ghost has been talking with me about how we are ready to take on an invasion,"

Spuro's mind zoned out for a moment. Pirate was planning to attack? And Ghost - that evil, scheming horse - had prompted it.

"and we have come up with a course of action. Shot, you are to take your finest scouters to the west of the planes. We located a herd there a few years back. The stallion was old and sick, and there were no batchelors to take over from him. By now an inexperienced youngster is likely to be the lead stallion of the herd. When you find their territory, head back to our grounds to report your findings, and leave two of your horses every few miles along the way to mark the path."

The Scouting Captain nodded.

"While the scouts are gone for roughly a month, Spuro, you are to pick out the thirty finest fighters of the Band, and Nickle, you do the same with the defences. You will both give their names to James, who will take them on in advanced training, while you two tutor his pupils for the time being. Ghost and Gorse will form an attack plan from the scout team's investigations, then Gorse, you will run through the plans with me and James.

"Once we know what we're doing, I'll speak to our Visionary Captain to try and predict any unfortunate events. Early the next morning the thirty fighters, thirty defenders, Captains of Attack, Deffecnce, Attack and Deffence, and Scouting will leave with me. While we are gone, Gorse will take charge of the Band, and all six-horse tutored members will receive time off."

"Which of us reckon that Pride will bet his leave as stakes?" Spuro joked aloud, causing the captains and the leader to laugh like the entire thing was just a game. It had been a test, which had payed off. Ghost had laughed, but only by forcing himself to. Now the dun was glaring at Spuro from across the circle.

"Quite," Pirate smiled. "Shot, prepare your trackers and head out at midnight. We want to keep this under wraps. You are not to tell any of the chosen units of the plan until intensive training begins - for security reasons. You're all dismissed."

Spuro and his friends wandered back to their quarters to discuss the meeting. Recently, captains had been given a small patch of land each that they could spend their breaks in if they wanted to relax and leave their students be. They stood under a large pine tree in James' land and whispered their thoughts to one another.

"Spuro, I get that you're worried about the safety of the herdies," Nickle reasoned, "but this is going to be a small attack. You heard Pirate, it's likely that a mere youngster is in charge of the West Plane Herd."

"But only likely," Spruo replied, shaking his head. He did that a lot nowadays - being a captain was so restless. "By now an inexperienced stallion could have produced several colts over the years, and he might be so inexperienced that he's let them stay with him."

"And do you really think that they will be a match for us, Spur?" James chuckled.

"It's not all about whether our horses will survive or not, James," he snapped, "It's about standards, rights and freedom. Why should our horses have to fight others, hm? Why should other herds suffer because of one stallion's selfishness?"

"And how do you suppose we stop the plans from going ahead, Spuro?" James retorted, pushing into his face.

"I told you that once Pirate made a move I would alert the others," Spuro whispered slyly, "and there are several scouting officers that are part of our group. I'll have a word with them before they leave tonight, see if they'll sabotage the search. In exchange for their risk, they can go free."

Spuro kept to his word and searched for the small group of scout herdies that night. Some of them had been officers long before he turned up in the Band, and the only reason that they hadn't been promoted to a captain status was because the current one jsut wouldn't die. Shot was the typical image of a wild, black stallion: muscular, unbroken, tall, fast. His relexes and senses were almost as strong as his loyalty to their beloved dictator.

He tip-toed through the centre and headed to the scout barracks, hoping that he wouldn't need an excuse to get in. Luck was on his side, as it seemed that the mustangs were waiting for him. "Are you going on the mission?" Spuro whispered.

"I am, so's Rodney," a bay replied. Their group was surprisingly large for a secret organisation, so the elder stallion's name escaped Spuro while they were talking. "But we've told the others. It isn't good, Spuro, it isn't good. Just a month to pick out the elite fighters before we return. For goodness sake - pick only those you trust."

Spuro agreed, seeing the logic in the bay's words. He told the duo about his plans on how to postpone the army reaching the herd. They were to volunteer to watch the herd until the other's returned, then warn off the herd as soon as they were positive of being alone and abandon the area in search of a new home. If they were'nt alone, kill the other guard and get rid of the body. If they could only act as a direction post on the way home, they were to leave once all other horses were out of sight and travel far away until the nightmare was over.

"And if we're caught?" Rodney said sadly, thinking of the ones they had lost in plans like those.

"We know what happens if we're caught," the bay snorted, looking down on his cowardly thoughts, "we beg to be killed, and don't say a word."

"Well, it doesn't have to be that drastic," Spuro replied, "just make sure it doesn't spill. The sooner you get away from the scene the better. Like I should do now before someone suspects us."

He turned to go, then said loudly, "So just call for me if there are any more signs of a second cougar. Van could do with a lady, but he doesn't want competition."

By the next morning the top scouters were gone, and the captians had to lie to the other herd members and say that they were searching for an outpost to carry over horses if the territory couldn't hold the population. It wasn't such a bad idea, some of them argued, and Spuro added 'poor conditions' to his list of Anti-Band thoughts.

While he was watching his class train, he wondered if any of them were good enough to take part in the battle. He tried to shake the thought from his head, dreading the idea of his boys being sent off to war. His mother had told him the terrible feeling of nerves as she and his father were waiting to attack the native humans. He didn't want to put that on their shoulders.

Besides, who would he send? Pride wouldn't listen to instructions that the captains - or even Pirate - gave him. Musktrat and Dillon would run off. Copper and Tay would give it a good shot but they simply weren't up to the level yet, and Zac was only just starting to catch up to them. He decided to spend his breaks at the Centre, watching fights from afar, trying not to get caught up into them, but searching for the best fighters present. A few times he managed to collar Pride when the youngster tried to sneak into a stakes fight, but he sent him packing - which was a victory in itself.

With just a week to go before he had to name the fifty members of the attack squad, he wondered if he was being too picky. He had only managed to list six herdies to be trained under James, he needed twenty-four more in seven days. Considering his view on the Band's systems it was ironic that it seemed that there simply weren't enough fights going on to choose from.

He decided to ask James for some advice. The draft cross captain suggested finding winners of the trials from the last few years. Officers in their prime, ready to take over from them if anything happened. He acted on the idea, and ended up taking the total to twenty-three before filling the rest of the spaces with members of their group. He had asked Nickle to do the same with his selections. It would be important to have horses on the inside for this one.

Once the battle training had begun Spuro decided that it was time to alert the other members of the team. Between training he spoke to them in groups of three in his quarters, explaining to them that with luck the scouters would have disrupted the Band's plans and they would not have to fight. Of course, that was the idea, but there was little chance that they would pull it off. He told them not to rise against the Band in any form - if the order was given to attack, then they would have to play along. It was far too early yet.

Meanwhile, he noticed a change in Zac. The tobiano's chubby structure was gradually disappearing and was being replaced with a strong, muscular one. His steps were lighter and his defence was harder to penetrate - the youngster had clearly taken his advice on board.

Copper was also showing signs of improvement. There wasn't much else that the private could do other than hone his skills. Spuro knew he had a herdy he could trust when he looked at the young chestnut. Tay was also a decent lad, but he was easily pushed around by others.

Spuro hated to admit it, but he was thinking about them in that way incase he lost members in the attack; killed or executed for that matter. The more horses on their side, the better, but he had to pick carefully. He had been lucky to have James fighting his corner at one point; the senior captain knew that he should have reported his tretchary, but still he took his side. He needed more herdies like that - ones that would defend another of their kind with their life.

He decided to go for it. He couldn't miss this oppotunity. Most horses opposed the system when they first arrived, young and nieve, so he had to talk to him before the youngster decided to pledge loyalty to their leader; that was when you couldn't be sure of trusting them. And if he disagreed with their struggle, or threatened to let it slip, he would have no choice but to kill him.

But he hoped it wouldn't come to that. During training he called Copper aside and took him to his quarters. The young stallion was clearly nervous, but he obeyed his tutor. Once they were surely alone, Spuro asked him, "Do you think what the Band does is right?"

"What?" the youngster asked, confused.

"You heard me. Do you think it is right to take young, undefended wild horses off the earth, lock them away in an training camp and make them fight until the best of them is found? What was your first view of the Band?"

"I thought that everyone was a monster," he replied, hanging his head low. He stood up straight. "But I've changed! I'm loyal and willing-"

Spuro smiled and said, "Don't worry, you've told me what I need to know. You're not the only one who thinks that way. You are one of the bravest, good-hearted herdies I've ever met, Copper, and I believe that I can trust you. Because what I am about to tell you could have me killed if you repeated it. Do you swear on your life that you will not speak a word of this to anyone?"

The youngster nodded and gulped. Spuro began to unfold the story he had locked away over the last three years.

"When I first became an officer, I received an insight on the way the herdies here are treated. I had been lucky - James was a good captain to work under. But outside of our class, it was hell. Cramped conditions, strict time limits to eating,drinking and resting, full combat in training, the list goes on. I even got shown the workforce - or slaves, rather. Failed fighters, minor traitors and weak horses are the ones that keep our territoy clean and healthy. The typical length of a worker's duty is one month, since by that time they have either starved, dehydrated or become incredibly sick.

"I had made friends already - the main ones were Leon, a former classmate of mine, James and Nickle. My name quickly spread throughout the Band after I defeated Ghost, a prime opponent in the trials for my circuit. An old officer, Bent, approached me quietly and told me about a group he wished to form. I agreed, since I had long known of the purpose of the Band - to kill stallions in herds and steal their mares for ourselves. Together, we carefully selected herdies to join our group and formed what is known as the Resistance. We are based on the belief that the Band is an unnatural - almost manly - phenomeon, and we seek to undo it. We believe that it is wrong to enslave, slaughter and imprison our own kind, and it must stop. I think that you follow the same beliefs as us and you could be a valuable addition to our undercover forces."

Copper didn't reply, shocked to the bone that such an upstanding captain could have been a traitor all this time. "How do you keep it all a secret?" he asked quietly.

"I told you - we pick our members carefully. There have been close scrapes in the past, and loyal members have died rather than give away our existance. It's a risk, but we do it not for combat honours or rank - we do it because it's right. Are you with us?" Spuro asked.

The plan was decided, and the horses were preparing for the trip to the far west of the planes. The attack units were practicing their fighting skills with the defence units while the scouters built up their strength for the coming terrain. James and Nickle went through their techniques together while Spuro waited alone at the sidelines. His mind wandered off and he started thinking about what Pirate was doing. Then it hit him - he was speaking with the Visionary Captain. Shortie?

He panicked a little, remembering their discussion. But there was no way that the old mustang would remember their conversation, no way at all. Yet he still found himself making his way across the Centre and back up onto the planes and heading for the circle of trees. When he got there he heard voices through the leaves. He stayed low and downwind to prevent being caught.

"Will there be a danger?" he heard Pirate ask.

There was a pause, then Shortie's hoarse voice whispered, "There is always a danger."

"But will we lose any forces?"

Again, a pause. "No," he replied, sounding slightly reluctant, like there was something he wasn't telling his leader. But Pirate was too happy to notice his tone.

"Excellent! How many mares do you see?"

"Many, but not enough. This one herd will not be enough to quench the thirst of the Band, nor will the second, or the third."

Spuro crept away at this point and headed back to the rest of the group. Hopefully nobody had realised he was gone. He knew that Shortie had been choosing his words wisely - more than usual at least. Three herds were not enough, he had said, so Pirate was going to attack at least four by the end of the circuit - maybe some more for good luck. He just hoped that his two undercover scouts had managed to do their work, and that the Resistance wasn't about to be sought out by the Band's loyalest herdies.

At the break of dawn the stallions cantered to the west in formation - Pirate at the front, Shot and Spuro behind him followed by the scouts, attackers and defenders in their lines, and James and Nickle bringing the group up from the rear. By the heat of the day they had made good progress, so the army stopped to rest until the evening, when they began to run through their training. Once all sunlight was gone they carried on their journey, not leaving a trace behind them. While they moved on they picked up the scouts at their posts in pairs, changing direction every time to head for the next checkpoint.

It continued like this for almost a week, until they reached the cover of a piece of woodland. So far, there had been no sign of Spuro's secret saboteurs, and his hopes were raised when the scouting party reported that they had missed their designated stop. Pirate was furious, and demanded that four of the other scouters (including three of the Restisance members) should take them back to the territory and be put to work. It rained heavily over the night, so they stayed under their shelter for the time being, trying to reform the plan.

Pirate called a meeting, where Shot explained how he had not heard from the couple that were watching the herd. It was clear that they had lost their position, and the only thing they could do was to make a camp and search the area until the enemy was found. Once the rain had ceased the scouts were sent back out onto the field in groups of five, leaving the rest of the forces to train up for the Band's first battle.

Spuro was training with James in the afternoon. The draft knew that his friend was feeling off. "You OK, boy?" he asked.

"I'm nervous," he replied, looking around the stallions, wondering how many would be returning with them. "Something's going to go wrong - I can feel it."

"Instincts are powerful things, Spur," Jame said to him sternly, "but you can't do anything about the future for now, so don't let it put you off what you have to do." There had been no discussion about the Resistance since the night before they had left the Band, for the safety of the entire group. But James didn't need to say anything about a secret organisation for the young captain to understand what 'he had to do' meant.

Finally, a report came in. Pirate immeadiately gave the order to move out, and they went on the move again. After an hour of walking through heavy, sucking mud, a patch of colour could be seen through the veil of drizzle. The West Planes Herd - all twenty-seven horses. They were huddled together - unsuspecting - in a small basin. They truely were on the western edge of the gigantic valley; a steep cliff towered up and spread into the mountains in the west. To the north the basin's walls were slippery with the mud and too steep to get a grip, much like the east ridge the Band's forces were lying low on. It was clear that the herd didn't stand a chance.

Pirate ordered the defencive units to cut off the escape to the south - a flat, narrow piece of land - and to close in on them. The rest of the horses waited, lying in the thick mud, facing away from the rain and watching the movements of the defenders. Spuro gave the signal to prepare to rise as the herd turned to look at the advancing strangers in surprise. He could see the mustangs that made up the herd now - twenty-seven in all, including sixteen mares, a filly, a two colts, eight young stallions and the lead stallion.

The herd ran to the east (as expected) when the intruders charged at them. They were half way up the slope when James shouted "Up!", causing the group to almost leap out of the dirt and block the way. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as the two leaders locked glares. Pirate's eyes danced around his prisoners, searching for a prize.

One of the young males tried to bash his way through the wall of attackers, but he was chased down the slope by one, then two, then several horses. The order was given to attack, and they charged down the hill, pushing the mares back to the centre of the basin. The leader of the herd lurched at Pirate, but James headbutted him into the ground, where he slid back to the bottom of the slope.

"Nickle! Separate the mares and foals from the stallions and keep them closed in. James! Make sure none of the stallions gets out of here alive!" Pirate shouted over the squeals of terror.

James eyes widened, suddenly remembering why he joined the Resistance. He had been trained under the impression that he would only chase away or injure their enemies, with maybe one fatality because of a 'hero' move. But now he was being ordered to kill all the horses - horses like him - even if they were fleeing for their life. Still, he obeyed, and the Band began to pick off it's first victims.

Spuro was on the tail of one of the stallions. He seemed to be a good few years older than him, yet less experienced. It was true what was said about the herd - a young, clueless leader had let it gone to the dogs, so a fine, middle-aged stallion had no idea how to defend himself.

The quarry swerved and headed back to the group of mares, now preciously guarded by Nickle and the defences. A sodden, mud-dark Spuro leapt on top of the stallion, bringing him to the ground. He pinned him on his back, and Spuro witnessed the raw fear in his eyes. This horse - this wild, mustang stallion, so similar to him - knew that he was going to die. He hated to do the deed, but for the safety of himself and his followers, he had to end his first life in the name of the Band.

A young mare shreiked as her father was slain on the ground. She pressed her head against her mother and they wept together, unsure of their fate. She vowed herself that his murderer wouldn't escape without justice, and that one day she would return the favour he had paid him.

Far away from the battlefield, James was sprinting after the lead stallion. He was wheezing and had numerous stitches, but he kept on the tail of him. Finally he stopped for breath, and the enemy turned to face him. "Look," said the stallion, a bay mustang, "look what you've done."

James turned to see the mudded ground and the terrified mares, the desparate stallions and the weeping foals. He knew what the bay was getting at - he was a monster. "I am only following orders," he panted in reply.

"And I follow my heart," sneered the stallion, walking up to him. "My heart says that your kind doesn't deserve to live."

He could have chosen to tell him everything - about how he didn't really believe in the Band's customs, how he was a major part of the Resistance, how he hated to kill. But James stayed silent apart from his ragged breaths as the enemy kicked at him, pushing his nerves for a fight. He staggered to his feet, exhausted, and stood to take the beating. He was a loyal soul. He was no traitor - his loyalty simply changed according to what was right. He would not betray Spuro because he believed he was right. He knew he was right.

The bay gave him another kick which sent him into the mud once more. James looked back on his life. It had been good - he had had parents who loved him, even if it was only for a short while, he had trained many wonderful horses, and he had played his part to liberate the members of the Band. He could let go if it was time.

Suddenly the bay was thrown to the ground and pounded by another set of hooves. Nickle fought the lead stallion to the very end, and helped James up from the mud once he had finished. "I couldn't leave you alone to handle him, old friend," he smiled to the flaxen. James smiled in return, but gawped at the scene of the young, silver grullo mare galloping away from the battle at full tilt. Nickle cursed the overgrown filly, before he helped James stumble back to the rest of the group.

 The army didn't return to their camp, but instead they stayed where they were in the basin. Pirate was alone, assessing the battle and deciding if it was a victory or a defeat. They had all but one of the mares - a silver grullo was missing - but they had successfully removed all the stallions from the area. Of course, there were the two colts who were huddled up to their mothers, but he planned to use them for training up.

Two of his captains, James and Nickle, were not present with the others after the fight, and he was beginning to wonder if they had gone AWOL when he saw them slowly walking up to the group. It looked as though the Captain of Offencive and Deffencive units had been through a rough spot, but at least he had him back. Once they were in place with everyone else, he gave the report.

"All are present, so we have lost no fighters. All stallions have been terminated - those who we witnessed killing one will receive a mare for their efforts. He who ended the lead stallion shall have two to his name. All mares present, aside one. I will require an explanation as to why when we get back to the camp. These are early days and we will do better in the next attack if we can learn from what went wrong today. Spuro, you take care of James until we get back to camp so that Nickle can oversee the transportation of the mares. All who killed should report to me and we will divide the spoils."

After a few hours to dry off and recover, the camp became a hive of activity. A few officers and the captains were gathered at the meeting place to receive their reward. The mares were being watched, looked over and rated while the exchange rates were decided. Eventually, it worked like this:

Pirate would have the first choice of three mares, then the top seven remaining mares would be reserved for the captains James, Nickle, Spuro, Shot, Ghost and Gorse. Shortie was too old for his own mares, he had said, so they left him out of the equation. Since James had 'lured' the lead stallion and Nickle had finished him off, they each got one of the two mares from that prize. Spuro got a second mare along with seven officers for killing a regular stallion. The remaining mares would be left for the time being, until enough had bene aquired to give one to every officer and captain in the Band for their rank. The females would then be given a piece of land to live and relax in, guarded by sentries.

He felt strangely humble as he walked among the group of mares. He knew that he must have killed - murdered - what was a mate to at least one of them. They were all glaring at him. He hung his head low and edged over to where Nickle was standing. "I can't choose any of them," he whispered.

"I know, they're all beauties!" he chuckled.

"No, I mean, it isn't right. Sure, you pick out your mares, but I just couldn't - it would be taking away their freedom. If anything, they should be choosing us."

Nickle sighed and smiled. "Look, Spur," he said gently, "when a new stallion takes over a herd, they don't get a choice then, either. It's perfetly natural."

"It feels like we're men choosing cattle," Spuro replied a little too loudly, earning a disgusted frown from a mare that Nickle had been talking to and she started walking away.

"No, he didn't mean that you were - see what you did? We were getting along fine!"

"Sorry," he said, smiling awkwardly.

"Look, just pick two mares, Spuro. You don't have to start a family with them, you can just let them relax in your quarters all day long at the territory while you're training your class. Besides, wouldn't they want to join you?" he reasoned.

By 'join' Spuro assumed he meant join the Resistance, since none of the mares had taken an interest in him. He wandered over to a grey mare and her black filly to talk with them. The mare put herself between her and the strange stallion. She had seen him tear one of her herd members apart, and she wouldn't allow him to do the same to her daughter.

"Have you two been chosen by anyone?" he asked.

She turned her nose up at him. "You mean you want me and my own daughter for yourself? I know that you stallions are planning to start your own herds with us, and picking us two is just sick!"

Spuro shook his head quickly. "No, no, no! I don't mean it like that! I just thought that since I've got the choice of two mares that I'd pick both of you, to keep you together. And I'm not planning on starting a herd yet - I'm too young and inexperienced. I'm a captain - that's a high rank - and I can let you two live your lives happily in my own field without being disturbed by anyone else. What do you say?"

The filly looked up at her mother. "Please mum! I don't want to be taken away from you! If we can stay together, say yes! Please, please!"

The mare looked Spuro dead in the eye, pleading, and said quietly, "Do you promise?"

"I promise."

It took two weeks to herd the mares back to the Band's territory. On the way, several of them attempted to escape, but they were rounded up and placed back in the group. Spuro asked Pirate if an exception could be made for his two horses and have them stay in his quarters. The leader was reluctant at first, unsure if the captain meant to start his own herd so early on, but he assured him it was just for their luxury, and he was too busy with meetings and training to take care of his own herd at the moment.

Spuro learned that the grey mare was called Celestia and her daughter was Cygnus. Celestia was the daughter of the leadstallion, and her mate had been a rogue stallion that her father had allowed to join them. She was getting on in her life - sixteen years old - but she was dedicated to raising her foal. Cygnus had many questions about the Band and how it worked, which she asked him almost constantly about. The two grew very fond of each other on the trip.

"So why are you a captain?" she asked, prancing around the chestnut.

"I won my trials when I was young, then I was nominated by James for the position when our last Attack Captain died of old age. I won the fights for the position and ever since then I've controlled the fighters," he explained.

"So you decided to kill the stallions?" she asked sadly.

He stopped and lowered his head so he was level with her, and gently said, "I didn't decide what the Band does, Cygnus, I only follow orders because I have to. I hate killing, I always feel guilty, but if it will keep me in my current rank then I will do it. Being a captain isn't easy - you have to make tough decisions about who to send to war and who should fight each other in the trials. But there are upsides. Herdies like me, I have my own class of wonderful young stallions and I don't have to fight as much as I used to."

Celestia joined his side as they walked across the grass. In the distance there were faint shapes of horses, sentries that were guarding the territory. The group broke into a canter, eager to finally rest after the rough three weeks. Cygnus stayed close to her mother as they entered the Centre. Everything seemed to stop as the stallions turned to stare at the mares. They knew that it had been planned all along but now it was a reality.

Pirate took his place at the front of the group. "Our first battle was a success!" he announced, earning an applause of neighs from his followers. "Most of the mares have been selected already, but the rest cannot be given away until there are enough for every officer and captain. James and Nickle will take them to the meadows near Shortie's clearing where they can live a happy life under the protection of our guards until the time has come for you all to make your own herds!"

The two captains ordered the defenders to herd the mares up the slope and towards the woodland, leaving Spuro and his two friends to wander back to his quarters once he had dismissed the rest of the army. As they walked by the entrace to his training grounds, there came a greeting chorus of neighs from his pupils. Copper, Tay, Zac and Dillon galloped over to greet them, leaving Muskrat to lazily amble after them. Pride was being watched by an officer as he spent his leave training after losing many, many stakes.

"Good to see you Sir!" Tay said, "We were terrified that something had happened to you when we woke up to find Quince in your place!"

Spuro laughed. "Nice to know that you guys care about me. Celstia, Cygnus, these are my students. I'm training them up for the trials at the end of the circuit."

"Say hello, dear," Celestia whispered to the filly, who had suddenly become very shy and hidden behind her mother. "Don't mind her, she's jsut met a lot of strange stallions recently."

"So," Dillion said, looking the mare up and down, "she's gonna be your lead mare?"

Tay knocked him across the back of the head. "We're not starting a herd," Spuro corrected him, "I chose these two as my prizes so that they could stay together. I'll be back in a few minutes, I've jsut got to get these two settled in my quarters, come on."

They arrived in the small field and the two mares went straight to the stream to drink after the long journey. Spuro explained that they would be safe there, since no other horse was allowed to enter the area without his permission. His rules were that they should not go to the Centre without him and that they should not follow another stallion out of the meadow, even if they claimed that he or Pirate sent them. "If I need you, or if Pirate needs you, I'll fetch you. And if anyone tries to get funny with you, you have my permission to hurt them as much as you like, then report them to me. I'll make sure Van deals with them."

"Van?" Celestia asked, wading deeper into the water to cool down.

Spuro shifted uncomfortably. "We have a cougar here who ...takes care of traitors, failures and criminals. If they survive a fight with him, they are added to the workforce. But even then they have little chance of living past a month. The deal is that he can eat all the traitors he can take down."

"That's unbelievable," she snorted, glaring at him.

"I know, I was disgusted at first too. But so long as you follow the rules, it isn't your problem."

A few weeks passed befor ethe mares finally accepted their future and all struggles to escape ended. But they were still fighting for their freedom. James and Nickle were often on duty, keeping an eye on any sentries that were trying to steal a mare for themselves. They often grazed and spoke with the mares, getting to know them so that they felt at home. But their main goal was to provide members of the Resistance. They knew a tough mare when they saw one, who was surely plotting to leave once the guards were lulled into a false sense of security. Instead of losing further females - Nickle had received a thorough lecture after the silver grullo had given them the slip - they persuaded the smart ones to stay and grow their numbers.

Spuro had also spoken with Celstia about the secret group, and she agreed to join them - for her daughter's safety more than anything. They both trusted the stallion now, despite the fact that he was a killer. He was the closest thing to a friend they would have. Cynus and Spuro usually spent their breaks together, playing and romping in the long grass. She was the closest thing to a daughter that he had, and he was beginning to see why the idea of your own herd was so appetising to the rest of the herdies. He wanted a family.

The black filly grew quickly once she was settled in the Band, and even raced with the youngsters in Spuro's class. Copper, Tay and Zac became known as 'Uncle' Copper, Tay and Zac, and the same applied with James and Nickle. Although the giant captain didn't admit it, on the account of looking weak infront of the other horses, he had a soft spot for the filly. Nickle told her stories that he had learned as a colt, which she absorbed with great interest and repeated them to her mother before they went to sleep.

Everything seemed to be going well, until a meeting was called for the captians. Ghost was giving a review on the attack, and he wasn't making it look good. "We let that mare escape. Not only is that one less for us but she could warn other herds of our existance. It is not acceptable."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" snapped Nickle, eager to prevent his name from being tarnished further.

Ghost paused for a moment to gather the attention of the captains. He turned to Pirate and said, "I propose a new division, Sir. Warrirors. Elite attack horses trained to kill quickly and effectively. If we had had them in our last attack, the stallions would have been taken care of within moments."

"And who would lead this new division, Ghost?" Pirate grinned. "You?"

The champagne dun nodded proudly.

Spuro stepped forward. "Objection!" he shouted, causing the rest of the captains to swerve their head to look at him. "This would render the attack force useless! And if they are trained to kill so well, the arena systems would break down as no-one could win a fight. What about all the officers who try to remove a stallion for an extra mare? They would be left with nothing for their extra efforts! And what if they grew too strong and rose against us all? What if they were better fighters than you, Sir?"

Pirate stayed silent and listened to his youngest captain intently. "We have no need for a new division, this is merely an excuse for Ghost to lead military units!"

There were hushed mumblings between the captains. James held his breath, hoping that Spuro wasn't asking for a fight with Ghost. He ahd only just escaped by the skin of his teeth in the trials. Pirate advanced on Ghost and said, "If you can give me a full report in a week's time on how this 'Warrior' division of your's would work, benefitting the entire Band, we will put it to a vote."

"Yes, Sir" Ghost replied. He glared at Spuro, "I assure you you will see my reasoning."

That night Ghost was patrolling the gullies alone. Spuro watched him from above, trying to work out his plans. There was only one way to find out. He slid down the slope and followed the dun allong the trench until they were far from any watching sentries. "I know you're there, Spuro," Ghost said, stopping but not turning.

The chestnut cantered ahead to look at his enemy in the face. "What are you up to, Ghost?" he snarled.

He huffed a laugh. "I know all about your Resistance. Like I said at the beginning of the circuit, Leon's information was very helpful indeed."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he snapped back. He couldn't show signs of worry or they would all be killed.

"Imagine it," Ghost continued, pushing into his face, "The strongest, fastest, cruelest horses picking off your secret members one by one. I am loyal to my leader, and I will make sure every treatcherous worm like yourself is wiped out from our herd. The time is nearing, Spuro old mate, for you to finally surrender."

The chestnut stepped back, staring the muscular oponent in the eye. Then he turned and walked away. What else could he do? Any further arguing could put them all in grave danger. He made his way back to the comfort of his quarters and slept uneasily throught the night.

In the morning he took Copper to James and Nickle. He was eager to get the youngster involved with the duo's plans with the mares.  He had been prewarned not to 'go near' the mares, even if they liked him, so, sulking over the lack of his own mate, he started to get to know the newest Resistance members. There were six out of the fifteen mares who wanted revenge for Pirate's evil ways. Both mothers of the colts were members, since their three year old sons had been taken away from them for training. They were a buckskin appaloosa blanket - similar to Nickle's coat - and a seal brown. They were all mustangs and there were also a black, a strawberry roan, a bay and a dark grey.

Spuro explained that when the next attack was called the defences would be lowered, so it would be an ideal time to leave in small numbers. "You are to stay here the longest - sorry - and send the rest of the mares on their way while the guards are few and far between. We'll make sure that some other Resistance members are on duty so that they don't cause you any trouble. We'll be bringing in more mares so hopefully no one will notice that the numbers are down."

"I don't know Spuro," Nickle said, "I think Ghost will have counted."

"Yes," he replied, "but Ghost is so eager to prove himself as a better attack captain than me that he will insist on joining us for the next battle. Anyway, if the other guards try to stop you, our horses will be prepared to kill them if need be. Van can take care of the evidence, he won't have a clue that they aren't traitors - he'll just be grateful to have an easy meal. And if we can butter him up, maybe the painter will come in handy in the future."

"One question, Spuro," the roan said. Her name was Sunset - or Sun - for her pinkish coat. He knew that she would do well as a leader for the mares. "Where do we send the escapees?"

Spuro didn't answer at first, but checked that no one was listening in. "There is a herd," he whispered, "far away from here. It's where I was born. I will not tell you the location right now, for my family's sake, but I know that they will let the mares in, they are kindhearted. Our herd has been carefully protected and lead for many generations, and they will do all they can to take care of them."

The week flew by and the day came for the voting of the Warrior Units division. Ghost gave his report to the captains, telling them how it would be a small group, only ten or twelve elite fighters, that would simply be on a cycle for battles. it would ease the pressure from the rest of them, and they would be classed as officers, letting the system remain intact. He would be a good leader of the group since he felt that his skills were wasted in as the Captain of Systematics, and he had earned much experience and respect through fighting.

The vote was taken, with Spuro, James and Nickle being the only ones against the plan. Even Pirate was for it. So Ghost was given a new position, Captain of Elite Forces, and was given permission to pick the top ten attack officers after the next battle.

Which led Pirate onto his next case. A week before he had sent out his top scouters to the south and locate the Waterfall Herd. Already there had been a reply, and a terrain report had come in. "Dry ground, exposed bedrock, lots of water including two large rivers, several streams, a lake and a series of waterfalls, ranging from feet to metres tall. Two stallions - an elder one, and his successor. Many colts, useless for the forces. around twenty mares, including a silver grullo, believed to be the one from the Wast Planes Herd. Sentries placed, easy travelling, the sooner the better."

James and Spuro had three days to select fifteen fighters suitable to the battlefield. They decided to not pick the best horses, in a final attempt to thwart Ghost's plans to train up the Elite Forces. If there weren't any fighters good enough, he couldn't choose them. Still, they picked their best attack members to go undercover and hopefully sabotage the Warriors' actions in the future. There were three volunteers. They chose all of them.

Quick-footed fighters were needed to stay aware of the ground around them. The report had described the land having a lot of water, so strong swimmers were essential aswell. They had chosen their fifteen by the end of day two, and Nickle had made sure to keep all of the Resistance defenders at the territory and volunteer to post as a sentry for the mares.

They let Pirate know that they were ready and they decided to leave in the middle of the night. A day earlier, in fact, saving their spies precious time. There was no time to draw up a plan so they held it off until they found a camp ground near the enemy herd. In the evening, Spuro slipped away to let Sun know that they had a few nights to escape. "Wait until at least six of our kind are on duty," he said hushly, "you'll know because they will have their ears turned to the sides. It's a special code we developed for operations like these. If you think someone's found you out, don't take any chances - tell our horses and they'll deal with them. The sooner you make a break for it the better, as Gorse is leading the Band alone while Pirate is gone."

They set off under the stars, the days ahead promising to be balmy and dry. As he had predicted, Ghost had tagged along to make sure he had an input to the battle plan, but Spuro was ahead of him. he was already thinking his way aorund the various problems that they would face. There had not been much rain in the south for a while now, so the riverbeds would be exposed save for the deepest parts. If there were walls of rock around a river then they could herd the mares up the narrow passage and block them off with the defence.

By the end of the third day of enless travelling, they reached a scouting officer that was waiting by a line of golden poplar trees. Pirate asked Shot, James and Spuro to join him on a terrain assessment to help with battle plan while Ghost and Nickle set up the camp. The trees were situated on top of a hill which sloped gently down into a small valley of lush, green grass. But further ahead the foliage began to dwindle, and any that was left was brown and dry. The nutritious soil had turned to baked dirt and dust, turning eventually to raw rock. Beyond that lay a great icy lake, with four waterfalls of different heights creating a haze of mist. The water was deep blue, showing incredible depth caused from the falls carving into the bedrock. As Spuro had predicted, shallowed rivers ran out of gullies of rock, one on the left, one on the right, providing the perfect trapping station. From their vantage point they spotted a small group of horses drinking by the lake, half hidden by the entrance to the gully on the right.

They made their way bac to the cover of the trees and began discussing strategies. Spuro managed to get his nose in before anyone else. "If we position the defences at our end of the gullies, and have the attack squad on top of the ridge we were at before," he explained, looking between the other captains, "we can force our way down the rivers and the hill while cutting off any sneaky retreats.To make sure we have them trapped, we can send the scounts onto the other side of the rivers to make sure there aren't any secret passages or valleys we could lose them down.

"Once they're spotted in from one gully, the closest team halts. The other two continue to advance and so the herd spot them first, and take the closest exit, falling right into the trap. The defences from the other river can follow them and block them in place while the attackers separate the stallions from the group."

"Not just the stallions," Pirate said, "I want the colts to be removed too."

"Sir?" Spuro asked. How could he be expected to kill a child?

"We don't want any of them growing up and rising against us," he explained. "They shall all go."

Spuro's plan went ahead and the horses positioned themselves. He vowed to himself that he kill an adult if he had to, but he refused to harm a foal. He saw why Pirate wanted them to be 'taken care of', but it was just another reason to revolt. The horses walked down the hill in an unpenetratable line, forming a barrier. As they got closer to the base of the hill they moved into two lines that fitted into the narrow valley. They heard the sound of galloping hooves on rock, and stopped until the defences on the right ran from their hiding and trapped the herd in the eastern gully.

Once the fighting was over, the mares were rounded up and taken back to the camp. Spuro had ordered the attackers, but resisted from fighting himself. He no longer wanted to be a part of it all. The time for the Resistance to act was nearing. Under the shade of the poplars, most of the mares were crying, mourning the loss of their sons. Spuro was put on duty to watch them and let them get used to the strange stallions, and he hung his head in shame, turning his ears to the sides.

He noticed a flash of dark and light, and gave chase to the silver grullo mare as she sprinted away. He jumped at her, tripping her up and bringing them both to the ground in a tangled heap. He got up quickly and put his front legs over her back and his hind legs at her belly, locking her on the grass. "Let me go! I'm not going with you beasts! I saw what you did to my herd!"

"You're the one who escaped from us last time," Spuro said sadly, looking her calmly in the eye, "none of us are going to let you get away again. My friend was meant to keep you locked up, and if you give us the slip again he'll probably be executed."

She kicked on her side a few times in frustration,then lay still. "I don't want to go," she cried. Spuro nuzzled her gently and helped her up, keeping a close eye on her movements as they headed back to the camp.

"We were wondering where you went, missy!" Shot snarled at her, "You're not getting away that easily!"

Spuro ignored him and approached Pirate, who was sorting out the mare claims. "Sir, I've chosen my mare," he announced. She glared at him - he had just put on an act of kindness to get her to follow him back. She had fallen for his tricks and now he was expecting to start a herd with her! No way!

Pirate seethed. "I was hoping to reserve her for myself, Spuro." She didn't like the look of him at all. He was a harsh, scabby old stallion, covered with scars. His orange eyes seemed to glow with evil.

"Er... me too, actually," Ghost added.

James and Nickle joined them. "And us."

"Ahem," Shot said, sliding up to the scene, along with several officers.

The mare looked around in shock. Why her? She had always been teased as a foal for her 'dirty white' coat - the other foals had never seen a silver grullo before, they had all thought that she was a grey who was caked in dirt. And now she was the prize mare? She eyed each of the stallions closely. The giant one was far too old for her, and she had seen how the blanket appaloosa had been flirting with every other mare at the camp. The black stallion was a bully - ha had just taunted her. She looked through the crowd, searching for a dark brown horse. He should have beeen there, he had been last time.

She looked back up at the chestnut who had caught her. He was the kindest out of them all, even if he did trick her. She wanted nothing to do with the others, and if it was her only way out, maybe she would end up liking him. The dunalino, who was clearly in charge, coughed. "I should let you know that I am the lead stallion of this herd. I hold the most power, I can make you special. Think about it - lead mare of the most powerful herd in the world. What do you say?"

"I say that I should have the choice between you all, instead of you picking me," she answered. "If I'm that sought after, I should be happy, don't you think?"

The leader nodded. "You'll be very happy-" he murmured, certain that she was his for the taking.

"Then I'll stick with him, thanks," she smiled, nudging Spuro on the shoulder. He glanced at Pirate, afraid that he would be killed on the spot for taking his mare, but his leader did and said nothing to object, though the anger was clear on his face.

Naturally, Spuro received no other mares that time because he caused no kills. But James had proven himself once more by finishing off the lead stallion, earning himself three females from one battle alone. Nickle ended up with two that time. The four unselected mares were rounded up in a group while on the journey back, but the more tender captains and officers took the time to get to know their new ladies. It turned out that Spuro's latest mare was called Willow. On closer inspection, he saw that she had slate-grey eyes and a star and snip marking. It was true - she was a beauty. But he still had no idea why she had taken a shine to him.

When they returned to the Band a defence officer reported straight to Pirate that mares were missing - three in all. Spuro recognised him from the Resistance, but said nothing trusting his follower's lead. He claimed that the mares got away with the help of two of the sentries, and they had been sent to Van as traitors. They had both perished in the fight.

Before he could slip Willow away to his quarters, the messenger gave a wink to Spuro, letting him know that it was all under control. Releaved, he introduced the new addittion to Celestia and Cygnus, not realising that they already knew each other.

"Willow!" Celstia cried, "Thank goodness you're safe!"

"I'm fine, Auntie," she smiled, resting her head on her neck.

"Auntie?" Spuro said to himself.

"Willow is my sister's daughter," Celestia said through tearing eyes.

"Sig!" she cried, jumping about with the filly, "You were allowed to stay with your mum?"

"No, but Spuro chose me and mum together so we could! Isn't that nice of him?" she neighed, rearing and planting her hooves on Willow's chest. The grullo looked up at the captain quizically.

"You did that for them? When you could have just chose two young mares?"

"Hey!" Celestia shouted. She was young - young enough anyway.

Spuro shrugged. "I have standards. And, believe it or not, I didn't just choose you for your looks - pretty as you are." She blushed. "I picked you because some of those stallions were never taught how to treat their women - gently and kindly without being overprotective. I grew up with a sister, mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. I'm used to ladies. But the real question is, why did you pick me?"

"Uh," she said, ears flopping down to the side of her head, embarrassed. "Well, you seemed closest to my age, I guess."

"Oh," he said, lowering his head. "Well, I've got to go and speak with some horses, then I'm training my class for the rest of the day. I hope you settle in quickly."

He went straight to Sun to hear about what had happened while he had been gone. All of their recruits were still in the field, but three of the regular mares had managed to get away from the Band at last. She explained to him that the others were reluctant to go, so they only managed to send off three before the guard came back round, and even then one of their own had to kill a sentry.

"Don't worry, you did well," he smiled, "but I'm not planning on letting as many mares get captured as before. It might take a while, but we'll reduce the numbers brought in."

He said goodbye then galloped off to catch up with his pupils. When he got back to the training grounds all was quiet. Five horses lay silently in the shade. He slowly walked to join them, curious as to what had happened, fearing the worst. They looked up at him - Pride wasn't there.

"He took on Luke," Dillon croaked. Luke was the Captain of the Workforce, and was known to ignore pleads of surrender. The years of pushing slaves over the limit had made the stallion heartless and cold.

"I see," Spuro replied, ears drooping. "But the rest of you are alright?" They nodded solemnly and he turned to go. "I'll have a talk with Pirate, see if he's got any privates to take his place. Take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow, we start training again."

"He was so young and nieve," Spuro said to James as they waited at the Counsil. "He didn't stand a chance. He was foolish, but I'm more concerned about how his death will affect the others. I mean, when Jupiter decided to fight you - and lost - we felt depressed for weeks."

James sighed. "There will always be a few bigheads in a class, Spur, ones who think that they are unbeatable. You warned him, and he did nothing. And as for the rest of the group, well they'll just have to use this experience as a lesson - they're going to lose more horses in the trials at the end of the circuit."

"Captain Spuro."

He turned to see an officer beckoning him over. He was led to a piece of dusty ground in the Centre with three young stallions waiting for him. After observing their strength, asking them various questions and testing their intelligence, he settled on a pale red dun who identified himself as Romeo. He felt it was a little too soon for his pupils to meet Pride's replacement, so he invited the stallion to stay in his quarters until the next day.

On the way back to the enclosed pasture Spuro asked the new addition questions on his life before the band. It turned out that he was actually three years older than him, even though it was only his second year in the Band. He became particularly interested in Romeo's previous life when the stallion mentioned that he came from a valley on the other side of the northern mountain range - his true home. Spuro explained that before he was bron men set up a town and his herd had to leave for a new home on the planes.

He stopped. He had just given away his family's position. Romeo appeared to have not taken any attention though, so they were safe - for now. They arrived at the meadow and He introduced the newcomer to the mares. The creamy stallion gawped at Willow for a moment, then smiled and started talking to her. It was a one-sided conversation though, as the poor girl clearly wanted him to go away.

Spuro approached him. "You have been here long enough to know that these mares are here because I chose them, and that means that you can leave them alone or you'll see my bad side before my good one."

Romeo took a few steps away from the grullo and said, "But what if the lovely lady likes having me around?"

"I don't," she said, not looking up from her grazing, "I hate creeps, so go away."

He slunk off to the other corner of the meadow and stayed in the shade, flicking flies away with his tail. Spuro kept his gaze fixed on him, leaned in towards Willow and whispered, "If he causes any trouble, tell me." She smiled at him, then he walked off to meet up with the class. At the entrance to the training paddock, he felt a comforting sensation on his nose. A snowflake had landed on him, and for a breif moment he felt like a newborn colt, bounding and rolling about on the mountainside where he was born. Winter was drawing in. Battles would be won and lost in deep snow, the army could freeze to death on the long journeys and food would become scarse for the hundreds of horses that made up the Band.

It was going to be a long haul to the spring.

Between the months of November and March, only two attacks on herds took place. The snow had been heavier than previous years, almost trippling the work of the enslaved horses, who dwindled in numbers through the cold weeks. Ghost had chosen ten of the strongest stallions in the Band, which included seven Resistors, and was training them up for the next attack. Spuro had gathered five more mares over the winter, much to the jealousy of the other officers and captains. He still allowed them to stay in his quarters, though, providing them with a safe place to live.

The rest of the captains followed Spuro's actions and kept their mares in their own fields too, now that there seemed to be less and less of them after each attack. Luckily, Sunset and two of the others still remained by the woodland without being taken by another stallion. Escapes were harder, and only two or three could leave at a time, but it was enough to be happy about. Spuro worked with his mares to come up with a plan if the time ever arose for a revolution, and it was the perfect time to get to know them all.

The quiet ones were Roe, a cherry bay, and Marsha, a blue roan. They tended to stick to the sidelines in meetings and only offered an answer if asked directly, but what they contributed was good stuff. They were half-sisters with different fathers, but they looked more like best friends.

Sham, a cremello, was a fairly violent, middle-aged mare, keen to get stuck in with the fighting when they attempted to thwart the Band's army. She had had foals in the past, all fillies, and they were spread throughout the territory between officers and captains, and she wanted to free them and give the stallions a seeing-to for going near her babies. Spuro admired her pluck, but feared her slightly, which they all found highly amusing.

During the second attack Spuro had managed to kill the lead stallion, so he earned himself two mares for that alone. One was a black overo called Fenna, who was the fastest long-distance runner of them all. She had almost escaped from the camp after her herd had been attacked, but was eventually caught. Spuro was so impressed he chose her as one of the two. The other was Ala, a young dunskin who pitched in a lot in the meetings. Her anme meant 'dorsal stripe', which was fitting for her because of the heavy, dark line that ran down her back.

On top of this, Cygnus was growing fast and was beginning to lose her baby-fur when she molted for spring, giving way to a smooth, jet black coat underneath. They were like father and daughter now; she stuck to him like glue when he was in the meadow, and he threatened any strange stallion that came near her.

Willow was also keen to be with him. They spent their spare time together, comparing their childhoods and telling each other memories long forgotten. He had promised that he wouldn't get attatched to any of the females, in case the lost them or he drove them away, but each time they met he felt himself falling a little further in love.

On the other side of things, the winter had taken its toll on the class of six stallions, all except Zac. Muskrat had been killed in a fight - he hadn't stood a chance with his attitude, they all knew it - and Dillon had been trapped under a mountain of snow when it slipped off the top of the cliffs in the Centre, suffocating him. Spuro had asked that they weren't replaced, since there simply wasn't enough food for six horses as they were stuggling on four. Tay and Copper continued to work hard at their training, but the frosty months had starved and stiffended them, and there was only so much that they could improve.

Romeo was't having much trouble, but sometimes he just didn't know when to stop pushing the boundaries. Spuro had physically punished him only once, which seemed to do the trick, but it was clear that the peachy dun, no matter how charming or 'well brought up' as he had said her was, hated being told what to do. He was a better fighter than Tay and Copper, but he wasn't quite as good as Zac.

Spuro had seen a miraculous transformaion of the youngster since the beginning of the circuit. The fat, shy tobiano had built himself up into a muscular giant who was more than capable of beating the trials, if only his mind would be balanced. Spuro knew how dangerous it was for him to become dependant on competition, but if he didn't have that champion streak he could be sent to Van for showing mercy against his classmates.

Once the weather picked up the training improved and the entire herd fattened up. As part of their preparation of the trials, Spuro took the youngsters down to the Centre to watch some fighting. He avoided to stakes completely, discouraging the privates from gambling everything in some rediculous odds. Instead they formed the walls of the leagues arena, excused from the fights under the circumstances of the 'educational trip'.

They watched several fights before Spuro asked Romeo, "What was the first fight you were ever in, Rome?"

The dun shrugged and huffed. "It was against a mare. We had a bit of a domestic, it wasn't a full on battle like the sort here, but she still managed to bruise me badly."

Spuro laughed, "Beaten by a lady? I thought better of you!" he teased.

"She had good blood lines though," he replied in defence, "her parents were war horses and her grandfather was a legendary stallion,"

Spuro zoned out from the Centre's buzzing atmosphere and fixed a stare on his pupil. "She was a fiesty little minx, and hated the idea of sharing me with other mares. Shame she left me - she was an utter beauty! An isabelline palomino, just a bit younger than you."

"Her name," Spuro said, gritting his teeth, "tell me her name."

"Destiny. A right one, but the spoilt little brat will be all alone in the world by now, since she has an irritating foal tagging alongside her. No stallion will ever want her - just like she always feared."

"Officer!" Spuro shouted to the referee, "I want to fight this stallion. To the death."

The four youngsters swerved to look at him. Had he lost his mind? Romeo almost shrunk to half his size in fear before being pushed out into the middle of the circle. He looked around him in horror, there was no way out. What had he said that was so offencive? What had he done to deserve this?

"I'll have you know, Romeo," Spuro snarled in his face, "that Destiny is my sister, and although I never treated her kindly or respectfully, I still love her, and I will defend her and avenge her as to repay her for my old ways. She can do better than you - she deserves better!"

The officer neighed and moved back into the crowd, and the fight began.

After the fight Spuro was sent to the Counsil to explain himself. Usually the Band wouldn't think twice about starting a fight to the death, even a captain versus one of his privates, but he had interupted the leagues, an important event for many of the officers who were working for a promotion.

He knew that it wouldn't be justifiable to have ruined the event just because of his family's honour. He could call Romeo a traitor, but that could only bring up further questions, like who else was working with him. But he had to take a chance - Ghost wasn't there, so no one else would try to tear down the walls between the Band and the Resistance.

"He was a traitor, Sir, he was keen to gather mares from our reserves and leave with them to form a new herd. not only was he a theif, he was an enemy. I couldn't stand to teach him how to fight any longer, incase he became too powerful."

Pirate accepted his explaination and sent him back to the training grounds where his remaining students were waiting for him. He thanked his leader and headed out of the Centre, bumping into Ghost on the way. The two of them glared at each other as they walked along the path in different directions, and Spuro saw a hint of a smirk on his opposition's face. He pushed the thought to the back of his head and cantered back to his three loyal pupils.

They fixed him with a steely gaze, ears back. He stopped at the entrance. They were clearly angry with him, and it was uncertain if he was to ever be forgiven. "Why, Sir?" Tay croaked. "He was our friend."

Spuro looked at the ground, ashamed. "When you care about someone, you defend them even if they are a hundred miles from you. I was defending my sister, something I should have done long ago."

"Either way," Copper said, raising his head, "I trusted you. I thought you were against the violence, that's what you told me -"

"Copper!"

"And now these two know. They know that you're a traitor, and we have a good mind to turn you in."

The captain shook his head, moving closer to them and lowering his voice. "And what about the rest of us? You three are part of it all now, you would be arrested too. And all the mares who want to leave, and many, many fine, upstanding officers - even two more of the captains. Would you really have them all sentenced to death just to get back at me?"

They fell silent. "I thought not. And surely, as much as you hate me at this moment in time, you can't possibly agree to what this herd has done. I'm going to check on the mares, come and get me when you've all calmed down and want to start training properly for the trials - which are in four months by the way, not long at all."

He turned and trotted off. He didn't blame them for being upset, he was when Jupiter lost to James, but he had expected better of Copper than to tell the others, even if they were trustworthy. What if they were interrogated? How long would it take them to spill everything?

"How are you all?" he said to the mares. They were happy enough, lounging under the trees, trying to shelter from the wind. It had become rather blustery over the course of the day, promising a heavy storm over night. "Where's Celestia?"

"She went to find you about ten minutes ago, she headed north I think," Marsha replied.

Willow and Cygnus were grooming each other next to her. "She'll be back soon, but this weather might blow away her trail unless you find her now, otherwise she could get lost."

"Mother is really good at remembering her way around," Cygnus whinnied, "she won't get lost!"

"Well, I'll still go to look for her. If the boys ask where I am just tell them I'll be back soon," he said, raising his voice over a particularly strong gust of wind. He found her scent instantly and followed it the best he could, trying to stay out of the wind when he could. After almost five minutes of stumbling and staggering against the weather, he found her, and wished he hadn't.

Down a slope of scrag and rock the floor of the gully was half taken up by a sluggish river. The damp air ran through it, screaming and howling as it went. Some crumbling ground overhung precariously on the opposite wall, threatening to collapse in the next torrential downpour. By the river on the near bank was a mound of off-white, marked with a patch of red that ran into the stream and down the gully.

Spuro scrambled down the slope cautiously and approached the old mare, wary of what to expect. She was still breathing - shuddering and shallow, but she was breathing. It was clear that she had been attacked by another horse, not a cougar, there were no claw marks, just bruising and bleeding. "Celstia," he whispered.

She opened her eyes and didn't seem to recognise him for a moment, then she smiled, lifting her head off the mud to see him properly. "Who did this to you?" he demanded, fighting off the tears. "I'll tear them apart!"

"Take good care of my daughter," she said softly, lying her head back on the ground. She sighed and closed her eyes.

She said nothing more and lay still, the first spots of rain darkening her silver coat. Spuro pressed his nose against hers, sobbing, not wanting to leave her alone. Van would soon find her, and he couldn't let that monster take her away. He stood back from her body and looked up into the black sky. The hammering rain stung his eyes, but he was too furious to feel the pain. She had asked him to take care of Cygnus, and he wouldn't let her down, but first off he had to deal with her murderer.

He turned to go, but took one last, long look at her lying peacefully by the river.

"Murdered," he whispered, trying not to wake the filly.

The mares looked amongst one another woefully, the brutal word slashing at their hearts. Who would kill Celestia? She was an old, gracious mare with nothing to hide, and most of the Band knew she had a foal. Whoever did it would have half the herd set upon him, so many horses cared about her and her daughter.

"I promised her that I'd take care of Cygnus," he continued, looking over to where the foal slept, unaware of her mother's fate, "but I'm not around enough to do that. I need one of you to take her on board, and I'll father her once this nightmare is over."

"I will," Willow replied. "We're family, she'll feel more comfortable with me."

"Thankyou," he said, "and now I'm going to check on the boys in the training meadow, see if this storm is causing them any trouble - and tell them about Celestia."

Buffeted by the powerful winds and persistant rain, Spuro made his way to the field where his students were sheltering. This time, they let him in and apologised for being so harsh on him. He had almost forgotten about their earlier disagreement, but Spuro quickly accepted before telling them the news.

"And I saw Ghost on my way back to my quarters, with a smirk on his face," he finished, buzzing with anger.

"You think he?" Tay asked, not needing to finish the sentence. His tutor nodded.

"Ghost has known about us since last year, Leon told him in a final attempt to save his life - which failed. The only thing he lacks is proof. He's out to get us boys, and from what I suspect he's done I don't think he'll stop at anything until he has us all executed."

"If he's murdered a mare," Zac said, who had been quiet the whole time, "a claimed mare for that matter, surely he'll be sentenced himself?"

"Even if she gave nothing away he'll accuse her of being a traitor, Pirate is that easily bought. I could say that all the officers are traitors and he'd have them sent to Van without a second thought. And I know Ghost's game - he's been sucking up to that leader of his ever since he became a captain, so if I accused him I would be laughed at an told to run along. It's not fair."

Nevertheless, the next morning when the rain had died down to a fine drizzle, Spuro set off to the Counsil to report the murder of his mare. The ground was saturated, the lake was flooded and the dusty ground that made up the fighting areas was turned to a watery mud. The grass seemed to be drowning and many of the cliff walls of the Centre had collapsed from the weight of the downpour.

He trudged up to the Counsil and saw that it was almost in ruin, with horses left right and centre assessing the damage and how to fix it, while officers of the work force gave instructions to the workers. He saw Pirate being reported to by an officer and approached. Once they had finished they walked away from the crowd and down to the swollen lakefront.

"Yesterday evening I returned to my quarters and found one of my mares gone. I searched for her through the high winds and eventually found her exhausted at the bottom of a river gully. She was bleeding badly and laboured in her breathing - clearly she had been attacked," he explained, looking out across the water. The lake was over double it's usual size and growing, due to the increased flow of the rivers that made it.

"You're telling me that a member of our herd killed her?" Pirate asked, suspicious.

"Yes, it wasn't Van, she had bruising - not cuts. And I saw Ghost heading away from that direction on my way back to my meadow, and it turned out that she had left about ten minutes before my arrival. Not only that, but he had a sort of smug expression, like he had done something I didn't know about."

Pirate turned to face him squarely. "Are you suggesting that Ghost, a high ranking captain, killed her for no good reason?"

"Other than to get at me, yes."

"And why would he want to get at you, Spuro? I know you two have a history of fighting but this is rediculous."

"Sir, she had a young filly. She was dear to me and my friends. There was no need to kill her."

His leader stared at him straight in the eye for a few seconds, then turned away and looked across the water. A silence settled while he thought through the situation, until he said, "There's nothing I can do."

Spuro bit his tongue to stop himself from errupting with fury. The dunalino continued. "I'm cancelling the trials this year, Spuro, and that is going to cause uproar. Once this place is sorted out I'm calling a full scale attack ona  herd, every officer will take part as will every worthy private. They won't stand a chance against us. I'll call for you again once we're ready, but until then - rest up, train up and keep the rest of your mares safe."

For two months Pirate's plans we kept under wraps. The privates were still trained for the trials, unaware that they would instead be sent off to war if they prooved to be strong enough. The order was given for any who weren't suitable for the task were sent to the workforce before leaving, so Spuro had no choice but to enlist his three students.

While the workers toiled over rebuilding the territory, Sunset, James and Tay spread the word to the other members of the Resistance that the time to rise agaisnt the Band was near. Spuro spent a lot of his time planning how to take them by surprise, but he wouldn't be able to decide anything until he knew where he was attacking. But he would soon know that as a meeting was called for the captains.

Spuro took his usual spot near James and Nickle and listened carefully to his leader's words. "We're here for one reason - to discuss the attack of the final herd. This is a top secret meeting, boys, and I don't know how many of you will agree with what I have to say, but I can tell you that if you let this infromation slip you will be executed immeadiately.

"Yesterday Shot and his top scouts reported to me that there is a gigantic herd of horses to the north, just by the mountain range. They have many, many mares and that means many, many colts. There are only two stallions to watch out for - their leader, a sorrel, and an old buckskin. I want all the males destroyed. Some of the mares are old and frail, and I see no reason to keep them all alive, as they will just waste precious resources. Only the valuable ones will be spared.

"This herd has been a threat ever since they arrived eight years ago. They called themselves the Cimarron Herd after their last home." Spuro swallowed back the shock and horror. It felt like his heart was being stabbed and clawed inside his chest. His family, his friends - they wouldn't stand a chance against them. Even if he could somehow warn them all it wouldn't be enough. The battle was truely on.

"We will simply have to attack with full force," Pirate continued, "Spuro, you enlist every stallion that is good enough to serve here, there is no limit. Nickle, you do the same, there's going to be a lot of mares to round up on this one. We will arrange the units along the planes in three rows: on the front line there will be me, Ghost and the elite fighters. Behind us, Spuro and James will lead the attackers, and following them will be the defences along with Nickle.

"Once the herd is defeated, the mares are to be rounded up in a secure location where they won't require much guarding, maybe only three horses. Then the captains and warriors will set about getting rid of the officers and privates, leaving every mare ever stolen by us to the captains and elite forces. This is why you are to be vowed to silence before leaving - it would cause a revolution."

The captains looked among each other, searching for any sign of defiance. All of them agreed to the silence and left without another word. Of course, Spuro went straight to his quarters to discuss it with James, Nickle, the privates and the mares.

"We have to fight," he said, causing a chatter filled with fear and disagreement.

"And all be killed? You're out of your mind, Spuro," James replied, summing up what the others were thinking.

"It isn't just because it's my family, if you were wondering that, it's because every mare that has got out of here went straight there. If we do nothing, they will be captured again and split between the captains and warriors, and few of the others are what a mare would expect. They're brutish, pushy stallions with no intention of granting them freedom.

"We can still lie low until the attack," he continued, whispering, "James and Nickle, you spread the word though our horses and I'll let Sunset and the others know. This is to be kept a secret - our very lives depend on that. The officers will agree to fight straight away if they are told that they will be killed anyway if they don't, but if anyone outside the Resistance knows about the plan it'll spread like wild fire and the attack will be merely postponed, with further security next time. We have to get this right first time around, and the attack is planned for next week."

So the three captains sent the information forward and began training their horses for battle. Every day Spuro woke up with a sickening feeling of anxiety, not knowing if today would be the day he was to be arrested for treason. With only two days to go until the war, he began to relax, certain that it was all going to work out as he had hoped.

In the early morning he woke with a start when two officers dragged him off the ground by his mane. They clamped him between them and ordered him along, pushing his head down every time he lifted it to look around or ask a question.

They were leading him to the centre, and Tay, Copper and Zav followed, fearful of their tutor's safety. Before the Counsil there was a mob of the entire herd chanting, "Death! Death! Death!" The chestnut was thrown to the dry ground where he was told to kneel. Gazing up, Spuro could see Pirate standing on his usual plinth, this time with Ghost and Shot at his sides.

"Spuro, Captain of Offensive Units," Pirate announced, bringing the Centre to a hush, "you are charged with treachery against the Band, plotting aginst the aurthorities and planning to take them over. Do you deny it?"

"Of course I do!" he coughed, standing up and throwing an officer away when he ran over to pin him down again. "I will stand here tall and proud because I have done nothing wrong."

"Ghost," Pirate said, smiling.

The champagne dun stepped foraward to give his report. Spuro accepted with a shuddering sigh that he was on trial, and it would be difficult to escape. He looked back at the crowd who were booing him and shreiking their own punishments for him, but between the rearing legs and wide open mouths he could see three horses who stood there silently, ears down at both sides, supporting him. Spuro decided that if it was the last time he would see his three students, he was glad it was that way. He gave a nod, then turned away for the last time.

"Three nights ago we caught a stallion - an associate of Spuro - spreading plans to destroy the Band. He was captured, interrogated and punished. We found out a great deal from him; how this traitor has been against us all for almost three years, in league with the scum known as Bent; how he helped the missing mares - your missing mares - escape; and finally, how he wishes to take over the Band himself by murdering our leader under the cover of battle. Who would betray you Spuro? Who would give your life away to save their's?"

Spuro couldn't answer. His legs were shaking, his throat was dry and he trembled in fear. But nothing could have prepared him for laying eyes on his betrayer. Shot stood aside, revealing an exhausted, beaten and terribly weak Nickle.

"I'm sorry, Spuro," he croaked, "I tried, but they broke me."

He shook his head. "That proves nothing, he told you what you wanted to hear to spare his life."

"A second witness and follower of this traitor is none other than one of the mares. True, she had no power, but she gave ideas to their plans and introduced the rest of Spuro's mares to their beliefs! I talk none other than Celestia."

"You did kill her!" he errupted, bolting towards the cliff wall. He couldn't climb up or reach his nemisis, but he shouted the place down in a vain hope that he would lose balance and fall to the ground. "You didn't ahve to kill her! She has a daughter! A young filly!"

Pirate took no notice of his former captain's accusations. "She was a traitor, she was killed like she was deserved. And speaking of which, send him to Van," he ordered to Nickle's sentries. "Let that scrawny cat finish him off, we have no use for him anymore."

"No! I told you the truth! You promised me freedom! Let me go!"

"You will get your freedom, Nickle, Cpatain of Defensive Units," Pirate laughed, glaring at him, "when you are released from your pain."

James stood at his post, not looking at the events unfolding, trying to block them out. His best friend was certain to die, but was that just? He had betrayed them all, endangering them, but at least he had not reveiled everything about them - every member, their attack plan, the truely important facts. He had always believed in looking at the bigger picture and doing what was right for the good of the majority - but was it really worth losing his friend for complete strangers? Many of which were likely to be sentenced to death. The ball was rolling, there was no stopping it now.

"Spuro, you are to be imprisoned, starved, then sent to Van. If you survive you will be sent to oneof the Elite Fighters, who will ensure your fate. Any final requests?" Pirate announced, grinning.

"Yes," he replied, all fear gone from his mind and body, "instead of imprisoning me, which would take days wo weaken me, I wish to fight you - here and now. Surrenders allowed, the loser faces Van. If they survive his brawl they will be free to do as they choose; for me, leaving, for you, leading. And I think that the rest of the herd will agree that I will lose our battle, so why refuse?"

He couldn't just blurt out the plan to kill all the officers, he would just deny it. There was no way to get out of this without staring death in the face, but the least he could do, no matter what situation he was in, was to prevent the discovery  of the entire group. So far, only four of them had been discovered, but Ghost could not accuse them all if there were no more confessions.

He had talked to James about their course of action if he was to disappear. James would take over, using his judgement - even if it was different to his own - to do the best in the name of freedom and nature. He had no doubts that his teacher would make the right choices, and maybe, just maybe, it was time for a new leader.

Pirate leapt from his platform and landed on the rock hard earth, apparently unharmed. "Then let's fight."

His eyes flitted open and closed, then finally stayed open. It was dark, the sky was pitted with bright specks, stars sending their light to him. Spuro suddenly remembered his fight with the lead stallion. He was doing well, possibly able to beat him. But he had sprung back with vengance, and struck him across the back of the head, knocking him out cold. He had heard James' voice above the hubub, since he had managed to shout, "I surrender!" before collapsing.

Now he was cold and alone, far from the Counsil or even the centre. The place was strangely familiar, and it took him a minute to work out that it was the gully he had first wandered through. There was a growling behind him, and he ducked. The cougar landed in a heap before him.

The big cat hissed. "You can't keep your luck up, you're weak."

"I was Captain of Attack for a reason," Spuro replied, staggering up and carefully balancing his weight, "I'm tough."

"Your friends were delicious," the puma purred.

He flared his nostrils and took up a quick-footed defence. "Don't mess with me, Van, I have generations of cougar butt-kickers in my heritage - you don't stand a chance against me."

The painter lunged at him, but he reared and hit him with a hoof. He stood on all fours again, waiting for the next attack. The cat tried circling him, but he just turned on the spot. Eventaully the stallion chased him up against a wall. He managed to pin him in place, putting just enough pressure on the carnivor's chest to cause him pain.

"Where is the herd, Van? Did they leave?" he snorted.

"I'm not telling you anything," he hissed, hackled raised. Spuro applied more pressure. "Ok, ok! They left after twilight, about four hours ago, every single one of them!"

He felt the pressure lift completely off his lung and fell onto the dusty, thirsty ground, gasping for air. He was tempted to go for the mustang again, but the sound of hoofbeats was already far away.

Spuro stopped to rest at Shortie's woodland. He observed the towering trees and shifting shade, wary of who might be guarding the visionary. But he was clearly alone, aside from an ancient stallion within the clearing, basking in the moonlight.

He tiptoed into the clearing and said aloud, "You knew all this was to happen, didn't you?"

"I am not a visionary for nothing," the grey replied wisely, fixing him a level stare with blind eyes. "I told you to trust somebody last time, and now you can be sure to trust me. I've known all along of your group - the Resistance - Bent told me all about it from the start. Yet I said nothing.

"I also told you that the world needs balance, and if you do wrong you must do something right to repay it or else pay the price. You have done bad things over the years, Spuro, killing in wars and teaching others to fight each other. But the fact you not only disagreed with it but you also fought against it outweighs those deeds. You have nothing to fear, like you used to. Face your enemies."

"But what if they beat me?" he asked desparately, eager to catch up to the Band before it was too late. "They're so much stronger, I was lucky to escape my last fight, and the test."

"You survived because of your own actions. The ones you fear have done nothing but evil, they are sure to pay for it. But even in victory, Spuro, be merciful. If they neglect that, they will face the consequences. All will be well. Now hurry - your family is waiting."

Willow wandered through the travelling mass searching for James. She knew that approaching him could bring attention to them, but she just had to know if Spuro was alright. All she knew was that he had been arrested and she hadn't seen him since. Just before nightfall she and all the mares in the herd had been rounded up and taken on this rediculous journey, and none of them had the curtosy to tell them where they were going.

So, leaving little Cygnus with Marsha, she set off to find the remaining captain. He was walking on the outskirts of the march, not paying any attention to the happenings around him. He was worried sick about Spuro, who was like a son to him, and at the same time he was mourning the loss of his dearest friend.

"James? Where are they taking us?" she asked meekly.

"That's 'Sir' or 'Captain' to you, missy!" an officer snapped.

"It's alright," James told him, straightening up. "we're moving out, that's all I can tell you. It shouldn't be far now."

She nodded and headed back to the other mares to tell them the useless information.

Jade woke slowly in the gently sunlight, the breeze blowing her mane all around her. She wasn't as old as she looked, but her health had deteriorated over the years. At least she had her mate to look after her, and a safe homeland to enjoy. She thought back to when she was younger, and the journey she made across the mountains with Durango. She thought about her son's first steps, how he related to snow as he was born into it. She wondered what he was doing at that moment, if he was even alive. Goodness knew her father had given him one hell of a fright when he chased him out of the herd.

Much had happened over the years, the title of leader had been batted between the kiger mustang and the quarter horse, but eventually the family had made amends, and Spirit had retired from his position, leaving the job completely up to Durango. But as the years went on it became more and more worrying that they had no one to follow in his place once he was gone, and she was far too weak to mother any more foals.

But there was hope yet. Recently, many more mares had joined them, searching for a safe new home. They all had the same story; they left their home because they were scared and upset. It was suspicious, and Jade didn't like sharing her stallion that she had fought so hard to get, but she still welcomed the strangers in. They were clearly exhausted and shaken from whatever experiences they had endured.

If anything, it was too quiet in their home now. Most of the herd lay about in the grass all day or grazed by the forest and river. The last remaining predators left long ago, once they had learned not to cross the two stallions. There were no men, and no other herds for miles on the planes. It was their perfect haven, ideal for all wild horses. Yet it lacked one thing: wild events.

The herd was nearby, and clearly not set on moving about. Pirate listened to the reports from Shot and his horses, then discussed the plan with James, who was doubling up for attack and defence - the precise reason that they had a head of both divisions. Once he knew what was going on, the giant flaxen went to find the mares.

They were waiting further away from the herd by a forest. They looked terrified of the strange surroundings, sniffing and eying everything unusual to them. Willow waited with Cygnus under a fir tree.

"The attackers are going to make their way through the forest, where they will be picked off by them," (the codeword for the Resisance members. It was vital that nothing was overheard,) "then the defences will attack from the hill lead by Pirate and the warriors, to find half of the attack force missing. By then they will have been spotted, and they can move away until the numbers are lowered furhter. They and the warriors will turn on them and lower their forces. Pirate and the captains will be kept alive, and anyone who joins in fighting against them. While this is going on, you and some of the other mares should find the herd and get their stallions and colts to join in the fight.

"By the end of it we will only have honest, true stallions left who have moral standards and a value of life. And we'll give the captains a choice: leave across the mountains or face death. The mares from all these herds will then have the choice of all of them, and they can go free and have their own herd, as promised, but the kind way. And if we ever see the likes of the Band again, they will make sure it is put to a stop before it can grow into what it is now."

Half an hour later the order was given to move out. The attack force was sent into the forest, where the members of the Resistance held their ears to the sides as a marker to not be killed. They stalked someone infront of them before attacking, picking them off silently in the darkness. The officer who was designated as the leader knew something was up, and ordered them out of the trees. But none of his soldiers herd his words, before he too was dealt with.

The denfences, scouts and all other horses cantered down the gentle hillside towards the herd territory, with the Elite Forces, the captains and Pirate at the front, spread out across the field. There was no sign of the attack force in the forest yet, but that was good, at least they were stealthy, Pirate thought.

The horses at the bottom of the hill looked up in disbelief, not trusting their eyes for seeing such a sight. Over 100 horses were now galloping towards them, and on the edge of the mass was a single red mark against the grass, running across the front of the pack.

"Spuro?" James said to himself. It was impossible - surely he was dead!

 "Run!" he shouted to the herd, "Just run! Get out of here!"

"How did he - never mind! I'll deal with him. Spuro!" Pirate shouted above the thunder.

The chestnut was heading straight for him, but the dun was ready, already preparing to go for the throat. In the nick of time the attack force, although halved in size, burst from the trees, scattering the stampede. The horses at the front stopped in their tracks, then were bowled over by the ones from behind. There was chaos as they ran in all directions before heading after the herd, which was now heading away from the open fields into a grassly valley. There was no way out for them, the battle was surely won.

Only Spuro and Pirate remained on the hill, glaring at each other. The leader leapt at his enemy, causing him to step backwards and roll a few times before jumping back up. They both kicked, reared and bit, fending each other off as long as they could. But Spuro was still weak from their last fight, and he had sprinted across miles and miles of hot, open planes without a stop for water or shade.

The dun stuck him in the shoulder, sending him sprawling at the bottom of the hill. He tried to get up, but his legs demanded rest, so he stayed put, low and unable to move if he had to. He had taken up a low defence - a bad choice. One of the first lessons in his training nearly four long years ago was to never, ever get low on the ground. You were asking for trouble if you did.

Pirate reared to strike the final blow, but he seemed to just disappear in thin air then materialize again on the ground. James had headbutted him in the side of the stomach, and stood there breathelss, ready to take on the mighty fighter if it meant saving his friend.

Pirate looked at him in pure, irrevocable anger. "And I expected better of you, James."

"I have followed Spuro since he started this rediculous group, only because I couldn't stand to have him executed. I will not leave him alone now, and I never will. You're a monster, Pirate, you're closer to amn than a horse," he said, emotion removed from his voice.

"Then kill me," he replied with a snarl.

"No, I couldn't do that. You will always be my leader, and I may not always follow, but I could never end your life." He helped Spuro off the ground and they headed off into the final battle, leaving the dunalino alone on the hillside, stunned, before sneaking off to salvage the scraps of his labour and spring back to life.

"I thought I was a gonner," Spuro laughed.

The draft cross joined his laughter, a hardy, deep one, and said, "So did I. Never mind how you got here, the important thing is that you're here. Now come on - let's get rid of these tyrants."

Already several horses were surrendering to the Resistance, and more were following, but the most loyal members of the Band weren't going down without a good fight. The other captains, mainly Ghost, and the Elite Forces were keen to give and receive injury. Spuro thanked his lucky stars that he had placed some of the Resistors in the warrior group, now they were combatting the stronger horses.

"Where are the mares? Are they safe?" he asked.

"I sent some of them down to warn the herd, they should be down there now," James replied, Spuro already galloping away.

He had to find Willow, and his mother and sister. They weren't safe on low ground, he had to send them back up the hill where they could be defended easily. When he turned up at the group they were being rounded up agaisnt a steep cliffside by three defenders. He didn't recognise them - which wasn't a good sign.

"Dash," said one, bringing a second's attention to the chestnut, "it's that traitor, I swear it."

"Yes I am," he panted, "now let them go, or face me."

The three stallions laughed and one of them lunged at him. Spuro managed to inflict some light damage, warning them that he was serious. Their faces dropped slightly. The first one straightened up and said, "Leave this to me, you two keep and eye on them."

Somehow, with some unknown strength, Spuro managed to pin the enemy to the ground. The stranger horse had told him to kill him, and, though unwillingly, he did. He had prepared himself for death and lots of it on his journey back, but at least he could finally leave it behind in his shameful past once it was all over.

The two other stallions had taken flight when the fight had ended, and they were now lost in the crowd of males. Spuro shouted orders to the mares, saving his manners for later. He had to move them while he could, before the others caught on to what he was doing.

"Ok! Move it! Make your way up the hill and don't stop for anything! Move!" he bellowed, snapping at a few that were frozen to the ground, making them follow the herd when they broke out of their daze. He waited behind until they were all moving and followed the group across the battlefield.

Most of the Band members had simply ran for their lives, but enough were putting up a fight to cause problems. Already the collected mares were being rounded up, and Spuro's horses were having trouble containing the enemy. 

Suddenly the herd decended into panic and split off in all directions. Pirate, Ghost, Gorse and a whole fleet of other stallions had jumped out of nowhere, scattering the mares. They persued the females in groups of four and five, ignoring the chestnut altogether.

He stood stock still on the grass, unsure what to do. Behind him he heard Willow neighing amongst the other prisoners. He turned to run to her and stopped. He looked down the hill and wouldn't believe what he saw. A golden palomino was galloping alone, heading west along the side of the mountains. She was old and clearly struggling, and Spuro knew instantly that it was his mother. A scarred dunalino was close on her tail, then cut her off and backed her against a rockface.

He looked again at Willow, who was now being herded away by Ghost. It was his own mother, the one who had carried him for almost a year, then defended him no matter how cruel or badly he had behaved as a colt, or the one he loved. He did love Willow, but he could only save one.

He looked back at Jade again in dispair, praying for some sort of miracle.

The strange stallion had singled her out from the others and now she was all alone with him. His orange eyes locked on her own, striking fear into her heart. He used a soft voice, but it seemed a mocking one. "You're very pretty. You deserve a lead stallion, one who can fight and defend you, not that coward you are with now."

"I'll decide who I stay with," she replied, trembling, "and I can't have another foal anyway - the stress would kill me."

"Surely it's better to take a chance? It would be such a waste; your beauty and my power combined - imagine it. Now follow me. If I can only leave here alive with a single mare, it's going to be you." He shoved her to the left and carried on pushing her along, no matter how hard she fought.

"No! I'm not going! Durango!" she screamed, too weak to kick out.

"You're on your own," he snarled, no one is going to save-" He broke off into a scream and the palomino shrunk to the ground in fear as the wind beat at her face. She opened her eyes and saw that an eagle was clawing at the stallion. The bird was old, and she realised that it was the one from their last home. He had finally found the herd again.

Spuro watched in awe as the giant bird viciously attacked Pirate. Their feathered ally was experienced in hunting, no doubt he had gone for the eyes. Now the stallion was stumbling about, pressing his face into the ground in agony, trying to shield himself from another attack. Already Jade was making a run for it, and he was in no shape to fight back.

Ghost just wouldn't back down. He followed Willow no matter which way she turned, cutting her off and ordering her another way. He told her that she needed a stallion, and since Spuro was dead, he would have to do. She hadn't given up hope, she wanted Spuro to be alive, but it wold only be so long before she had to accept that Van would have finished him off.

"Come on Willow," he said, faking a gentle appearance, "I onyl want the best for you - I love you."

"You don't know the meaning of the word!" she replied, dodging him.

"A mare wandering the planes alone is bound to get hurt or captured, at least you would always have me there to protect you. Please Willow, wouldn't Spuro want you to be safe?"

"He would want me to be happy," she replied, crying.

"He does want you to be happy," a third voice said.

Ghost looked behind him to see a chestnut stallion. "You have got to be kidding me!"

With a cry of frustration he leapt at his enemy, knocking them both to the ground and rolling in a heap to the base of the hill. Spuro got up first and prepared himself for a tough fight. Mind games wouldn't work again, and his strength had been sapped from the recent events. He took up a strong defence and waited for the strike.

Ghost managed to grab his mane and knock him about a bit, finishing with a blow to the chest. Winded, Spuro stood up again and changed tactics, stepping aside when the dun jumped towards him. He tripped a few times on the way, wheezing and coughing from the effort.

Willow had made her way towards them and was egging him on for support, but instead he only flopped onto the grass, too tired and bruised to stand up. Just when he thought that he was finished, Ghost was hit by three blurs, one by one.

James bashed into his shoulder, distracting the champagne dun, while Spirit kicked him on the side he wasn't looking at. Durango joined in, and bit him a few times. Ghost was surrounded by the three stallions. All of them were old, aching and weaker than him, but he didn't stand a chance against all three of them.

"Leave my land," said the buckskin.

"Now," added the sorrel.

He gave up. There was no other way of getting out of the territory alive. So, tail between his legs, he called up some of his friends and they raced away from the herd land, chased on by Durango.

Willow was already at Spuro's side, trying to get him to focus on her. James wandered over, fearing the worst, followed by Spirit. She was whispering to him hoping to give him some sort of strength. His green eyes were flickering open and shut, uncertain what to do, until finally they shut. Willow kept saying his name repeatedly, a bit louder every time.

Durango was back now and the three stallions stood with their ears flopped to the sides. James' right ear pricked up and he turned around to see Pirate limping across the field. He nudged Durango, who also turned to look.

"Stay here, Dad," Durango muttered, "we'll go and see to him."

First there were murmurings in the blackness, followed by clearer sounds. Words. He slowly opened his eyes, almost blinding himself by the light. Spuro sat up properly and tried to get a grasp of his surroundings. Everything settled into focus, and infront of him was an old, golden mare with gentle green eyes.

"Mother?" he said, his voice rasping. He coughed.

The mare smiled and tugged at his forelock playfully. "Yes, Spuro, it's me." They just looked at each other for a moment, gazing into each other's green eyes, before they broke out crying.

Spuro pulled away first and rested his forehead on her nose. He had always hoped that he would live to see his mother again, and here she was, waiting for him. A second mustang approached him, and he recognised the shining mousegrey coat and silver mane.

"Willow, you're alright?" She nodded, then joined him on the grass.

"We thought you were a goner," a deep voice laughed. It was James. What was he doing there? "I'm not staying, if you're wondering. I just thought I'd stick around to say goodbye."

"You could stay, you know," Durango said. Durango. Spuro had never been so happy to see his own father since he arrived to fight off the cougar as a colt. "We could do with the extra help, now that we've got all these mares to look after."

Spuro looked across the field. Every single mare who had been caught by the Band was either drinking or grazing in the summer sunshine. Even little Cygnus was there, frolicking with the other foals, keen to make new friends. He shook his head. "Hang on. What did I miss? What happened to all the stallions?"

"A lot of them took flight and ran off, including Ghost," James explained. "The members of the Resistance stuck around until a few hours ago. They all left after a mare chose them to start their own herd, and they plan to spread across the planes, over the mountains and across the whole land, starting new herds with no competition nearby. I'm the last one to go, but I've already found someone." He gazed fondly at a blue roan mare who was lying in the shade.

"And Pirate?" Spuro asked, looking at his dad.

"Me and James took care of him," he replied simply, "he won't bother us any longer. And it turns out that that cougar - Van is it? - would take away any dead and leave us all be until he ran out of food. And there are much less rogues out there now, so we don't have to worry about sneaky stallions hanging about."

"There are just over seventy mares left in this herd, Spuro, including me and Willow," Jade said. "Your grandfather thinks that you'll be needed to help out if we're all going to stay healthy and safe. Can you walk?"

He pushed himself up off the ground and balanced himself. Being knocked unconcious twice in two days had really taken it's toll on him, but he could manage a stroll down to the old maple. Spirit was waiting for him there, standing alone under the amber leaves similar to his own coat. The chestnut hadn't spoken with him since he had been kicked out of the herd, and he was slightly afraid to approach him.

"Don't worry, Spur," he said, "I only want to talk."

He stood before the ancient mustang, nervous but proud. "You saved us all," he continued, "if it hadn't been for you many more would be dead and our family and friends would be split across the planes. It seems you have learnt quite a few things since we last met - you risked your own life valiantly to save ours, you returned even though I could have turned you away again, and from what James tells me you encouraged others to rise up against their leader according to what they believed was right. You've come a long way.

"I'm old, I can't do anything like I used to, be it fight, run or work. Your father can't handle his duties alone, but he doesn't feel strong enough compared to you to be leader."

"What are you saying?"

"We've done our job, now it's your turn. You're young, experienced and brave, and I'm proud to have you take the place of me and your father. Will you be the stallion of the Cimarron Herd?"

Spuro's ears swerved towards the direction that the neighing was coming from. He looked up from his grazing to see Willow cantering towards him across the lush planes. Behind her was a foal, gangly and excited. It was the spring, and several of the mares had foaled over the last few months, including Sun, Roe and the other mares that Spuro had grown close to during their time in the Band.

Spirit was dead, he had passed on in his sleep one night in autumn, only to be found by Jade the next morning. He had lived beyond the natural expectancy of a horse, and finally he could join Rain and Esperanza. The entire herd mourned their ledgendary leader for weeks, fearing that they would come to harm without him. But Spuro had pulled them all through the winter in good health and a new generation of the Cimarron Herd had begun.

Already he was the father of twin fillies, Winnie and Tanya, from Sunset, as well as Maple from Sham, Cody from Marsha, Mirren from Fenna and Denver from Roe. The mare had suggested naming the chestnut colt after his close friend, and Spuro happily agreed. Cygnus was coming up to three years old and she had been adopted by himself and Willow. Now the silver grullo had made it back to the herd safely with the new arrival.

"He's a tough little fella," Willow smiled as she watched the colt and stallion meet for the first time, "he took on a fawn in the forest, but the plucky deer bounded off."

The colt was a silver bay with a white sock and a blaze. His coat was dark and contrasted beautifully with his shimmering mane and tail. His deep green eyes resembled that of his grandmother's. "And his name?" Spuro asked.

"You decide."

Spuro nuzzled his son and gently nudged him back towards his mother. ""What about Spirit, after our late leader?" one of the nearby mares suggested.

"How about something reffering to what he was about?" Spuro said. "He'll always be remembered, especially by us, but to man and other herds he will only be able to be passed down through word of mouth, becoming merely a myth."

"That's it," Willow said suddenly. "Myth."

The stallion smiled at his son. He reared, kicking his legs out to their full length and neighed. Willow joined in, followed by the mares and Durango, and finally little Myth, who gave out his first herd call. Even through change, even through death, the Cimarron Herd would always go on. And through the generations, there would always be stories of Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron.