The Royal Jewels

The April sun glowed over the Aintree racecourse as the Grand National approached, and the air was excited with anticipation. Amongst the talented field of horses and skilled jockeys, one pair stood out: Jockey William Sullivan and his mount, The Royal Jewels. They were the hope of their trainer and Irish owner, a last chance for glory in a race that had eluded them for years. But the bookies had an inkling this time that a win was in sight.

William felt the weight of expectation as he saddled up The Royal Jewels. The horse was a magnificent creature, a blend of power and grace, his eyes reflecting a determination that matched William’s own. As they rallied at the starting line, William spoke soothing words to his equine friend, feeling the energy of the crowd and the gravity of the moment. Nobody wanted a false start and lining up forty skittish horses was a task.

The starter gun fired and the 4-mile race began as they thundered down the track. The adrenaline surged through William’s veins, but he knew he needed to balance pushing The Royal Jewels to his limits without crossing the line. The pressure was immense, knowing that not only victory but the very well-being of the horse depended on his judgment.

Approaching the first set of formidable fences, “The Chair” and “The Water Jump,” a knot tightened in William’s stomach. The Royal Jewels responded to his guidance, smoothly clearing the fences with a controlled power that left them in good standing. The race was still wide open, anyone could seize the moment and make history. Next came “Becher’s Brook,” a leap that could make or break dreams. The Royal Jewels soared over it, his agility a testament to the bond between horse and rider. William felt a surge of hope, a glimpse of victory in the distance.

But the Grand National was unforgiving. The pressure to perform continued as they faced Foinavon, the fence named after the Irish horse that won with odds at 100/1.  A horse that had rocked the world with its win and used to be stabled with a goat. The race was a well-known free-for-all but came with such prestige. He had to fight to keep focus as they approached the final stretch, “Valentine’s Brook” and “The Elbow.” William and The Royal Jewels had defied the odds and remained in contention. The race was still anybody’s game.

The cheers of the crowd blended with the pounding of hooves as they sprinted towards the finish line. The Royal Jewels found another burst of energy and William urged him forward, pouring his heart and soul into the ride. At that moment it felt like just the two of them.

In a breathtaking dash to the finish, they emerged victorious by a nose, crossing the line with everything they had. The thrill was overwhelming—years of hard work, the pressure and the sacrifices all culminated in this perfect moment. William knew he had pushed his horse to the edge, but not beyond. They had won, and The Royal Jewels would be loved, cared for, and live to run another day while others lay broken on the field.

As they stood in the winner’s circle, William whispered thanks into the ear of the beast, acknowledging the horse’s incredible effort and partnership. The cheers of the crowd and the jubilation of the trainer and owners, all faded into a singular connection between horse and jockey, a bond now forever forged through the crucible of the Grand National.

Inktober 2023

31 Days – 31 Drawings – 31 Tales