The Young Black Stallion

Is there trouble, Kadir?

It's Mansoor. He's always trouble.

But we paid his bribe.

We'll be all right... I hope.

Neera!

I was just looking.

-I'm not tired, honest.

-We'll stop in the foothills.

It's safer there.

Not much longer.

I was dreaming about home.

It's so beautiful - like a palace.

Big grassy fields

for my grandpa's horses.

They're the best in the whole valley.

They win every race.

Well, almost every race.

He must be a very important man,

your grandfather,

to breed horses that never lose,

to live like a king in a palace.

I know he didn't want

to send me away,

but he thought it'd be safer

until after the war.

Life has a way of shifting,

like blowing sand.

What... what is it?

Kadir? What's wrong?

Mansoor.

Save yourself, Neera!

Go west. Find the mountains.

Follow them home.

Don't stop. Don't look back.

Go now! Go!

-What about you?

-Go!

Kadir!

Good boy.

Good boy.

Wait!

Come back!

Come back.

Hey! Where are you going?

Wait for me!

Wait!

I'll get you a drink.

Black?

Black?

Good boy.

We'll find a way home.

You and me, together.

We just have to keep going.

We're close, I think... I hope.

We're home.

It's there, see? Come on.

Hold, boy. Easy, now.

No, wait. Come back!

Don't leave me!

Come back.

Black?

Hello?

Hello?

-Aden?

-Neera, is that you?

We thought you were dead.

No, it's really me in person.

See?

What were you going to do,

chase me away?

I didn't even know it was you.

We heard the caravan was attacked.

I didn't expect to ever see you again.

-Where is everyone?

-They ran away.

-Everyone?

-Not Ben Ishak or me.

-Is he all right?

-Sometimes I hear him crying.

Go away.

Leave me alone.

Can't you hear? Go.

But it's me, Grandpa.

Neera?

Grandpa.

Oh, Neera.

If he hadn't helped me, I would've given up.

I just wouldn't have gotten here.

Sometimes in the desert,

the devil plays tricks.

Our minds get all twisted

and we imagine things.

No, he's real. He is.

He's already so strong and fast.

-We have to find him.

-Neera...

This black colt is just a trick,

a devil dream.

He doesn't exist.

Only here, and here.

Let him go.

That horse, the one in front.

-Isn't that Kazeer?

-Uh-huh.

Kazeer doesn't belong to us any more.

None of them do.

They're scattered.

Rhamon took Kazeer.

He took most of the mares.

-They were like family.

-There was no other way.

When the soldiers came with their tanks

and their bombs, they destroyed our fields.

Our crops burned to the ground.

There was nothing left. Nothing.

I could not afford to feed them any more.

I had to sell.

Even Jinah?

The thought of anyone else

owning Jinah,

that cut too deep,

like a jagged knife.

So I sent her back to the desert,

where she belonged.

Some people thought

I was foolish,

but I knew it was right.

We are not breeders any more.

So be it.

At least we have a roof overhead.

That's luckier than most.

We kept Abha.

Oh, Abha.

-You remember it?

-Maybe.

-My beloved

-My beloved

Like a rose

A precious rose

that blooms in a garden

You shall be

forever in my heart

My beloved, my bel...

Salaam alaika, Ishak.

Need help?

We will manage.

Kazeer looks good, don't you think?

You should have been at the races.

He won, of course.

Mansoor was too busy thieving his way

through the desert to bring Radan,

so it was hardly a challenge.

Nothing even came close.

Still, I appreciate my prizes.

You may recognise some.

-He won those?

-Yeah. It's the new rules.

Each tribe stakes their best mare.

The winner gets them all.

You are a lucky man, Rhamon,

to have won such fine horses.

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