Novice Rider.

It is warm here. My stall is a goodly size. Water and fresh sweet hay are always available, and as a treat I sometimes get brought some bran and oats. It is always nice to hear the pail clanking as it nears, and I love to push my nose into it and taste the succulent meal.

My groom is called Hengest, a good name for someone who works in such a job. He tends me well, but I miss my master. Since he became King I do not see him as much as I used to. This I do not like and I know he feels the same.

Long have I served him and borne him safely into battle. But now my life is somewhat quieter. Instead of long rides and sorties, I dwell within this stable, and on warmer days I am allowed out onto the pasture. I like it there as I meet others and sometimes a frisky filly is introduced. I like that even better.

But hark! Surely hear comes my master now. Yes, I hear his deep voice and hope that he will come to see me. Always he brings a gift.

I call out so he knows I am here, and he walks to me laughing. Oh it is good to see you, I have missed you so. Yes I do like carrots and I show him my approval by eating them as fast as I can.

My king is not alone. His lady stands by his side. She is comely, and I know she feels for him the way I do.

He is looking round the stable now, pointing at others. I do not like this. If they are to choose, why not me, I stamp my hoof to prove this.

The lady walks to me and her touch is the lightest of caresses, and she nods her head.

This does not seem to please my master and he shakes his head vehemently, and points out, Rhiergarn, my neighbour. He is smaller than me and somewhat docile in manner.

The queen raises her head and leans on me and whispers my name. Normally I do not care for this, as others could confess and show their bruises of such encounters, but…she is with my master and loved by him. So I also will love her and I rest my nose onto her face and rub her in return.

My master does not seem to like this, but I am only doing what I have seem him do when he is with his lady.

He sighs and I neigh with pleasure when he places my saddle on and then eases the  bit and bridle into place with a gentle touch. I stand before him proud. I will be well behaved, so as to earn his approval.

My king speaks. ‘What say you?  I do not like that. I am not a traitor.’ The king has entrusted me with his queen and I will ensure that no harm will come to her. ‘Traitor indeed.’  Anyone would think him jealous.

Two Hours Later.

I think things are not well. It is not my master who sits atop, his lady is in the saddle and I have been gentle with her.

She is not used to my kin I can tell by her hesitant manner, but my master will show her what to do. He and I are as one when we fly across the Mark. Sometimes he does not even have to guide me. I know where he wants me to go with only the slightest pressure from his thighs.

He is not smiling now. I do not like him when he scowls so. His lady is trying her best, but I feel it is difficult for her.

My master stops me to speak to her, his caress is welcome, and I stand in obedience as he dictates his lesson. His lady has sweet laughter and calls me a fond name. Glad am I that others did not hear this.  I wouldst never be able to hold my head up in the stable ever again.’ Yes,’ I agree. ‘I am a warhorse and should be addressed with due respect.’

My lady digs her heels in me. I think she wants me to gallop. No, I was wrong. Her laughter carries on the wind, as she realises her mistake.

I would like to go back now. I am hot and thirsty. My master has caught up with us to grab the reins.

Well, never would I have expected to hear such language! My master only usually speaks words like these when in battle, never in front of a lady.

She jumps down, kisses my neck and walks away, head held high. ‘Please don’t leave’ I whinny, ‘Let me carry you back’

My king catches up and stops her, they speak softly to one another, and I hear him say ‘Sorry’. Now that is a word rarely spoken by him!

They are embracing now, and I do not want to be forgotten. I walk up and push my nose into them.

Yes, they are both laughing now. What is this? My master lifts her back into the saddle, and yes, yes, he is there also.

 This is where he belongs, him and me together. I like the queen, her touch is gentle…but when my king and I are together, we are invincible.

Ah, my stall is so cosy and the rub down was welcome. I was lathered up a little. I hope tomorrow will be better. I trust my queen will learn from her mistakes. I will try to help her. My master does not seem so enthusiastic though.

What are they doing? They are in a corner of my stall. ’This is my home. Do you mind!’ My master is doing things to his lady and making her giggle, I will stop this.

 I knew my wet nose would halt them.

 If he wants to play the stallion, he should go back to his own stall and leave me to rest.

They are leaving, going back to the large stable on the hill. The grand stable with the golden roof.

‘Tomorrow, my king,’ I call, ‘He is gone now and my bed of clean straw has never looked more welcoming.’

The End.

A/N. Hengest means stallion.