When silence prevailed once more, he raised his small head still higher. He seemed to be listening intently for some response from Napoleon.

“If you’re looking for a fight, don’t pick on him,” Alec said. “C’mon.”

At first the colt resisted Alec, then with a disdainful snort he trotted alongside with high head and tail, his light hoofs slapping rhythmically against the wooden floor.

Leading him into the field, Alec allowed the colt to pull away until he had reached the end of the lead rope. Satan continued to pull, but Alec held the rope firmly in his hands, eyes upon his horse. The lush green grass rose above Satan’s fetlocks as he stood there quietly, his ears pricked and nostrils quivering. Alec knew that his every faculty was keyed to the utmost, that the colt could and would do almost anything. And he wondered if it would be wise to give him his head, to let him run in the field, as his great sire had done. It was a sight that he longed to see, something to carry back to school with him. The wooden fence encircling the field was too high for the colt to jump over. Perhaps in a year he’d be able to make it, but not now. And the new fence at the south end, built just as high, would keep him out of the heavy underbrush on the far side of the hollow.

Satan’s head jerked toward him; then the colt wheeled and slowly ran around Alec, who kept the rope taut. Suddenly Satan stopped, his head cocked again, his short mane swept back by the late afternoon breeze. His nostrils quivered, and his head moved back and forth before he stretched down to graze, his black muzzle buried in the long grass.

Alec left him alone for a long time; eventually he moved quietly up to him and took hold of the halter. The colt’s head jerked upward and he turned savagely upon Alec, who kept close to him, avoiding the bared teeth.

Alec’s fingers worked quickly as he unsnapped the lead rope from the colt’s halter. Then he placed his hand upon Satan’s silky neck. “Well, boy, you’re free,” he said. “Go to it.… It’s what you’ve wanted.”

The colt moved slowly away from Alec, as though he thought himself still held by the lead rope. Then, upon suddenly realizing that he was free, he bolted with a rush. Down the field he ran, stretching into a gallop. And as Satan ran, Alec felt his heart swell with pride at the beauty of his colt in action. In time Satan would be beautiful, swift and strong, just like the Black. Alec was certain of that. The strides the colt took now were short and unsure, but before many months went by they would be long, steady and powerful.

Alec drew in his breath sharply as Satan headed for the east fence without slackening speed. Would the colt try to jump, even if it meant destruction? Did he prefer death to the loss of his freedom?

Then, relieved, Alec saw Satan come to a dead stop before the fence, and, wheeling, stand there shaking his head. Then he half-reared and was off again, more slowly this time, running alongside the fence with his head craned as though he were wondering what was on the other side.

“No desert over there, boy,” Alec muttered. “You wouldn’t like it.”

The colt disappeared from sight as he reached the far end of the field and went down into the hollow. Alec left him alone, knowing there was nothing to fear down there as long as the colt wasn’t able to get over the fence and into the heavy underbrush.

A few minutes later Satan reappeared, trotting back along the west side of the field. Upon seeing Alec, he stopped halfway up and bolted across the field.

Alec let the colt run until he had covered the field several times, his speed gradually lessening as he ran himself out.

Maybe this was just what Satan needed, Alec thought. Maybe it would make things easier all around.

The sun was hanging low in the west when Alec decided the colt had had enough exercise for one day. Satan was grazing in the middle of the field, and he raised his head as he saw Alec walk toward him.