Title: At the Levee
Author: Amy B. R. Mead
The yearling colt was a terror.
He tore around the yearlings' pasture, chased in vain by his pasture-mates. He ran with his head up, ears pricked; he was four lengths and gaining beyond his nearest pursuer, and he was playing.
"He's going to be a devil on the track," said Anna.
Richard Maybrick grunted slightly as he sighed.
"He's devil enough on a lead line. I still don't know how you balance jockeying with training that monster."
"Don't forget halter-breaking Firestorm." Anna laughed a little. It was May, and their third Storm Knight foal was three months old. The filly did not seem to share her year-older half-brother's vicious temper; though she had begun to run on her own, driving her dam to distraction, she was a sweet and tractable horse once haltered. She had luckily inherited her dam's perfect temperament; all the Maybricks could hope for was that she had also inherited her sire's blinding speed. That similarity to the older colt, they would not complain about.
The colt's name was Levee, and he was a terror.