The Black Horse

Blair ran ahead of his mother through the dusty streets of K'rdon heading for the end of the main street to the bridge over the Greenspring that gushed from beneath the ground forming the river that flowed its way into the nearby forest. On the other side of the bridge was a group of merchant wagons, and Blair had a silver penny burning his pocket. The local merchant had given the penny to him when Blair had used his meager Healing abilities to heal one of the merchants fine hunting dogs. The merchant had been hunting stag when a boar had savaged one of his dogs before the merchant could kill the beast. Blair had happened to be in the woods collecting medicinal herbs, and had saved the valuable dog's life.  His mother had looked at the penny, and told Blair that it was his to spend as he would like.

Now the first merchant train had reached K'rdon, and the farmers and herders were selling their raw goods to the merchants for supplies they could not get elsewhere. The farmers and shepherds sold their tobacco, wool, corn, wheat and furs to the merchants who would then take them to P'rdren, or M'dorn to be made into the finished products.

Blair's mother, Naomi, was the local healer for the region. She and her son lived on her father's land. Several acres of pastureland, a vineyard of plump grapes, along with small modest cottage all surrounded by forest with only the North road to see them into town. Blair's grandfather had stayed behind to tend the sheep and goats, while Naomi, and Blair brought the wool that had been sheared from the sheep along with the goat cheese, and casks of wine and cider they made every year to sell to Durn Jovie, the owner of the Greenspring Inn.

Behind Blair, Naomi walked beside the mule that pulled their cart. Naomi was young and beautiful, and turned the heads of every man in the village, but she had had a child out of wedlock, and that tainted her in the eyes of the village. Though the people came to her medicines and cures, they ignored he when she came into town.

His mother was teaching Blair to Heal. Like her she had the gift, but his gift worked only on animals, which vexed his mother sometimes. Blair's grandfather had suggested that Naomi find another apprentice along with Blair; one who could use the gift on humans.  While Blair knew what herbs to give for the various sicknesses, and how to set a bone, or make a splint, or birth a baby; his gift, the power that he guided into a hurt or sick body to speed up its own healing, or burn away infection, could only be used on animals, as his mother's could be used on humans.

Naomi balked at getting another student, and though her father tried to convince her, the sad truth was there was no one in K'rdon who had the gift.

Blair waited for his mother at the foot of the wagon bridge, and then crossed it at her side. On the other side of the wagon bridge the merchant wagons had set up camp along the green expanse on either side of the Bridge Road. While Naomi spoke with a few merchants, haggling over prices, Blair explored the wagons looking at things that caught his interest, wondering what he could spend the silver penny on until he came upon the wagon of the horse merchant.

In a corral made of rope several horses grazed, horses of every color that their kind came in from blue duns, to whites, and blacks. Blair smiled dreamily as he watched the beautiful horses. Only a handful of villagers owned horses, most had mules or donkeys, because the animals were expensive to feed and maintain.

Though Blair would dearly love to have a horse of his own, he knew a silver penny would not buy one, nor buy enough grain to keep the horse. Blair was just about to leave when his eye caught sight of the beast.

The horse stood apart from the others, its head hanging down to its knees, but it did not crop at the grass. The animal was heavily built, with a broad head and nose that made it jug headed. The animal's hide was dull, black as coal, and patches showed skin beneath. Scars crisscrossed the horse's hide, while a deep ugly scar ran over the horse's chest. The mane and tail had been clipped short, and what hair there was ratty and knotted. One ear was torn on the tip, and the hooves were cracked and needed repair. The beast was obviously sick, wounded within, and Blair's heart went out to the horse.

He was about to climb beneath the rope fence to go to the horse when a hand clamped on his shoulder. Blair looked up into a merchant's face.

"I wouldn't if I was you boy. That horse is sick, no telling what you'd catch; not even the tanner wants that beast, and its no good for dog food, the meat might be tainted. Best to put 'em down, don' know why I haven't yet."

"If he's sick, why haven't you helped him?" Blair asked. "Your other stock looks healthy, why mistreat only him?"

"He's not my stock, boy. The beast came to me when his previous owner, a bandit thought to take our wares. The bandit's dead, and the guards brought back the bandits' beasts, and this one with 'em."

"How much?" Blair asked.

"Boy, I can't sell that sickly beast to ya."

"I'm a Healer's apprentice. I can care for the horse. Please, how much."

The merchant looked at him, his eyes speculative. Then he looked at the horse. "I can't in good conscience take money for 'em. If you truly are a Healer's apprentice, then I'll give 'em to ya. Save your money for feed and the like, you'll need it. I didn't really wanna put him down. Under all those scars, and sickness is a mighty fine horse."

The merchant went over to the horse, and clipped a lead rope to the leather halter around the horse's nose, then led the poor animal back to the boy. He handed the rope over. Blair reached out and petted the horse's nose. The animal flinched at the touch, but did not try to pull the rope out of the boy's hands.

"Here ya go, boy. Take good care of this beast. Something tells me, he's earned it." the merchant said. With one last pat on the thick neck, the merchant left leaving the boy standing there with a black horse at his side.

The first thing that Blair did was reach out with his Gift and touch the horse within. The animal had worms, was near colicky, and was malnourished. Withdrawing from the beast, Blair patted the horse's neck and said, "Poor guy. Don't worry I will help you." Blair then led the beast through the market streets to find his mother. The horse followed placidly.

Naomi was shocked by what her son brought back, but she listened as her son explained everything. The local lord had heard of Blair's abilities and at one point had offered him a job to work with the lords own dogs, and horses. To help pay for the upkeep of the horse, Blair told his mother he would take the job in addition to his duties at home. Naomi listened and knew that her son wanted the horse more than anything, and so she agreed. Knowing her son as she did, Naomi believed that he would do right by everyone, including the horse.

Blair tied the lead rope to the back of the wagon, then went to use his silver penny to buy grain for the horse, while Naomi continued to haggle with a merchant for the price of her wool.

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Jim D'Ellison watched the boy maneuver through the crowd in the market heading away from the wagon where he had left the former soldier tied and shook his head. He had judged the boy to be no more than ten years old, and if he was older he was small for his age. But Jim had felt the strength of the boy's gift as it had been used to ascertain his health. He heard the boy's arguments to his mother. The arguments were not what most boys used to get what they wanted. The boy had actually sounded responsible and caring. Perhaps, Jim thought, this will not be so bad.

After two years of being in the body of the stallion he himself had bought three years before, Jim D'Ellison, once Captain of the Black Rangers, was ready for some peace and quiet. During the campaign against Lord D'Srorn, a sorcerer, Jim had been captured. D'Srorn, pleased to have the captain has his prisoner, had proceeded to torture Jim for months while outside the campaign continued, neither side gaining a foothold in the long bloody battles.

Jim had lost an eye, a hand, and half of his left leg to D'Srorn's tortures until finally death seemed imminent. But D'Srorn, whose anger and hatred of D'Ellison was beyond reason, wanted to continue the tortures. Therefore, he had had Blade, Jim's black war stallion brought before him, and using powerful, evil magics he had somehow transferred Jim's mind, and perhaps even his soul into the stallion. But in doing so he destroyed the stallion's mind, and Jim in the horse's body was unable to stand or walk. Like a newborn colt, Jim had had to learn to walk on four strong legs, to move in the body of the stallion he himself had ridden into battle many times.

In the stallion's body, Jim had watched as his own body had been hacked to pieces then burned, and with it his last hope to be human once again.

But eventually, King D'Raine's army overwhelmed the stronghold's defenses, and won in a long bloody battle. Lord D'Srorn died, his head cut off by King D'Raine's own broadsword.

Jim was found in the dungeons. No one understood why a horse was chained in the dungeons, though some soldiers whispered that Lord D'Srorn had been into perversions of the flesh. None guessed that the stallion possessed a human soul. Captain James D'Ellison was mourned, and the black stallion was sold to pay for the costs of the battle.

Jim found himself in the hands of a mercenary who trained him to be a battle steed. The mercenary, Bryan Togele, fought in many campaigns, but in the last one, a skirmish between two High Lords, Jim received an enemy spear in his chest. Though Jim survived because the wound was too shallow to have reached his heart, Bryan Togele, died on the battlefield.

Jim changed hands again, this time to a merchant's guard, who lost his life when raiders attacked the merchant train some four days after he bought Jim.

It had been the bandit leader who had shorn Jim's mane and tail short so that it would not snag on brush and tree limbs. The bandit leader had Jim for several months, and Jim had poor feed, and poor shelter. Which eventually caused Jim to fall sick, and then Jim fell into the hands of the merchant when the bandit leader, Torp, lost his life on a raid of the caravan.

And now, Jim found himself in the hands of a boy named Blair. A boy whose Gift, Jim hoped, would heal him. Make him strong again. Because for all that Jim missed being human, he had trained too long as a fighter to just give up now.

Eventually the boy came back, behind him was a big man carrying two bags of grain. The man smiled at the boy's mother as he loaded the bags into the cart. The boy's mother thanked the man, who nodded with a smile, and left. The boy, Blair, reached up and patted Jim's foreleg, then walked beside his mother who took the reins of the mule

and guide the animal through the streets. Tied to the cart, Jim was forced to follow at a sedate pace.

Jim noticed the stares of the villagers as they walked through the crowded streets. He saw the disdain among the womenfolk as they passed, and guessed at their reaction. He shook his head at their disdain.

Eventually they walked out of the village on a hard pack dirt road, that curved its way through the forest. It was spring, and the grass was green, and birds sang in the trees. It was rather peaceful and Jim already felt better.  Soon, they turned off the main road onto a cart track that curved a few times until three miles from the main road they came

upon the small valley where a rock and wooden fenced pasture held goats and sheep who grazed calmly on the green grasses. There was a lean-to shelter in the pasture, and a brook wound its way through the green grass and into the surrounding forest. A cottage sat not far from the pasture, a stream of smoke floating upwards from the rock

chimney. In front of the cottage chickens pecked at the ground, and a rooster perched on the roof of the well. Behind the cottage was vineyard, well tended. In the yard where the chickens pecked, and old man tossed grain down for the chickens, who gathered round him, clucking.

Upon their arrival, the old man waved at them, and the young boy waved cheerfully back. Jim wondered what the old man thought of the sight of the big black horse following the cart.

Naomi stopped the cart near the older man, and hugged him calling him Father. The old man eyed Jim, and asked, "May I ask whose idea this was?" The old man eyed his grandson.

Before Blair could say anything, Naomi spoke, "Its alright Father, Blair discussed it with me, and I think everything will be fine. Blair dear, unhitched the mule, and take him and the horse to the pasture."

"Yes mother." Blair said and proceeded to unhitched the mule from the cart.  Once the mule was free, Blair took the mules lead rope, then untied Jim's lead from the cart, and led the two of them to the pasture.

The mule wasn't too happy at Jim's presence, but the stallion ignored the other animal even when the mule tried to bite.  Blair unlocked the gate and swung it open leading the two of them into the pasture, then swinging the gate shut. The rock and wood fence was tall enough so that the goats couldn't jump or climb out, and was tall enough that Jim was sure he couldn't jump it.  

Once in the pasture, Blair removed the lead rope from the mule, and with a pat on the silly animal's rump, let the mule wander off. He kept a grip on Jim's lead rope though, and led him to the lean to. There he tied the rope to the shelter, and climbed up into the loft part. He came back with a leather scrip that opened. Jim's sense of smell told him that the scrip contained medicines.

Jim stood patiently as the boy rubbed a herbal paste on Jim's wounds. The paste helped with the itching, and Jim was grateful for that. The boy also took out a bottle of some liquid. The boy managed to get the neck of the leather bottle into Jim's mouth and poured the foul tasting liquid down his throat.

"There," Blair said, "That wasn't so bad."

Speak for yourself, kid. Jim thought.

"That will take care of those nasty worms you have." Blair said as he ran his hands over Jim's chest studying the old spear scar.

Worms? Jim thought, I had worms. Ew.

The boy closed his eyes, and Jim felt him once more enter him with his magic. This time the boy sent those healing magics to certain places in Jim's body. The boy healed the colic that Jim was forming, and helped the medicines kill the worms in Jim's stomach.  Eventually the boy withdrew, and sagged wearily against Jim. Jim lowered his head and nuzzled at the boy's curly chestnut hair. Blair smiled and patted Jim's chest, then stood up straight and dug through his scrip coming up with a pair of currying brushes.

Jim leaned into the pleasure of the brushes not having been curryed since having been with the mercenary. The boy gently combed out all the tangles in Jim's mane and tail, and brushed out the mud and dried blood in Jim's coat.  While he brushed, the old man came into the shelter carrying the bags of grain. The boy's grandfather smiled at Blair, and Blair smiled back. He stopped long enough to help his grandfather use a pulley and rope to get the bags into the loft.

The old man clapped his grandson on the shoulder, smiling, and said, "Don't be late for dinner."

"I won't." Blair answered.

His grandfather nodded, then left the lean to. Blair finished the brushing, then used an oil on Jim's hooves, and filed them, and cleaned the bottoms. The boy noted that Jim's shoes were worn mumbling that he'd have to get the blacksmith to take care of it. When he was done, Blair untied the lead rope leaving the halter on Jim's nose, and then he pitched some hay down from the loft, and filled the trough with grain. Jim eagerly ate the grain, not even annoyed when the mule came to get his share. The pasture had been

divided to keep the goats and sheep away from the mule. They had their own little shelter in their part of the pasture. With one last pat of Jim's foreleg, Blair left the pasture, and headed up to the cottage. Jim watched the boy go, then returned to eating the grain. He hadn't felt good in along time, and was glad to finally find a good place to be.

The next day, Blair saddled up the mule. His grandfather had given him permission to ride the mule to the local lord's home to see about getting the job that had been offered to him. He wanted so badly to ride the big black stallion, but knew that the animal wasn't healthy enough to be ridden. As a healer, Blair could never cause harm to his patients, so he would wait. Eventually the stallion would be healthy again, and Blair could hardly wait.

Curiously the stallion watched Blair saddle the stubborn mule, and watched him ride the mule down the cart track road. Blair had given the stallion a pat on his chest and told the big black that he would be back soon despite the fact that he felt a bit foolish saying that to a horse. Naomi, his mother, had packed Blair some food, just bread and cheese and some sliced lamb, but it would curb his hunger later in the afternoon.

It took about three hours to reach the local lord's manor. The lord, Lord D'Harsk, owned a good sized manor with sizeable estates. He had stables of racing, jumping and battle horses, and owned sheep, and cattle that grazed on the large pastures. The man also owned hunting dogs. Lord D'harsk was not an evil lord, nor a particularly greedy one. He did not rule over his vassals with an iron hand. He was generous, and believed in justice for everyone.

Blair rode up to the stable yard. He knew he needed to find the stablemaster, and figured to find him there. He was in luck, the stablemaster, Henri, came out of the stables when the dogs barked at Blair's arrival.

"What can I do you for, lad." Henri asked.

"Lord D'Harsk offered me a job tending his beasts. I'm an animal healer." Blair said.

Henri eyed him for a minute before saying, "You're Naomi's son, aren't ya. I remember his lordship telling me about the offer. He didna think you was going to take it."

Blair shrugged, "I need the money."

"well let's go speak to his lordship. Climb on down and tie the mule to the hitching post." Henri indicated the wood post.

Blair climbed down from the mule, and tied the reins to the post, then followed Henri toward the manor house. Lord D'harsk was in his study going over accounts when Blair and Henri entered. Blair tried to be unafraid when D'harsk looked at him, and it helped that the man smiled at the sight of Blair.

"Well young healer, I see you've decided to take my offer." D'harsk said.

"Yes sir."

"You know I asked you weeks ago, what made you change your mind?

"I have a horse that needs healing, and I need the money to feed him, and such." Blair answered.

"A horse. Certainly not that mule that you rode in on, I take it."

"No sir. The horse is still too sick to ride." Blair answered.

"Hmm...well when this horse is better, I think I would like to see the animal that got you to take up my offer. So I'll pay you 5 pence a day, no matter how long you work. You'll have meals with the rest of the servants as long as your here during the day. I expect my animals to stay healthy, and if they do get sick, I expect you to help them if its at all possible."

"Of course, sir." Blair answered.

"Good, good, then it’s settled. Henri will show you around. And Blair, I hope to see this horse of yours sometime."

"Yes, sir. When he's healthy again, I'll probably ride him here."

"Good, any horse or mule you bring with you will be fed and tended while your here, so don't fret on that part. Say hi to your mother for me." And with that D'Harsk dismissed him.

Blair followed Henri out of the manor house and to the stables. The mule had already been unsaddled, the gear stowed, and the beast in a corral. Blair was taken to the stables first to see the prize horses that D'Harsk owned. Fine racing horses, hunters, and warhorses. Blair particularly lingered at the warhorses comparing them to his own

horse. They were more fleshed out than his black, but Blair knew that as soon as the stallion was completely healed he would be as big and muscled as the warhorses of D'Harsk. Maybe even bigger, Blair thought with a smile, a hint of pride in his thoughts.

Blair checked over every animal on the farm. He found only a few problems that were easily remedied by herbs and ointments. But after using his magic to ascertain the health of every animal, Blair was wearied and hungry. He ate the cheese, bread and meat that his mother had packed, and washed it down with water from his canteen. Henri had been at his side throughout the day, and Blair was glad for the company.

"So that's it?" Henri asked. "No sign of disease or anything."

"No, sir. No diseases, just a few things that are easily cared for. When I come back tomorrow, I'll reapply the ointment on the horses to get rid of the ear mites, and dose those sheep again."

"Alright then young sir. I'll be seeing you tomorrow. Here's your pay for the day." Henri handed Blair a small leather washed purse that held the five silver coins bigger than a silver penny in them.

"Thank you Henri."

Blair re-saddled the mule, and headed home. He stopped in the village to use the coins to buy more feed, and some herbs, and then headed home.

Jim watched the young boy saddle up the mule, which was none too happy about it. The mule stamped, and laid its long ears back in displeasure. When Blair wasn't looking, Jim bared his long teeth at the mule telling the stubborn animal to mind its manners. The mule took the hint.

While the boy saddled the mule, Jim was aware of the wistful looks that the boy gave in his direction, and Jim smiled inwardly at that. It must be the wish of boys everywhere to ride warhorses, Jim thought remembering when he was a boy and had stolen a ride on his father's war-mare. The switching later had been worth it.

Jim knew, though, that despite the boy's wish, young Blair was still a healer, and would never endanger his patient's health. The boy probably weighed less than fifty pounds, if that, but any weight might turn out to be too much while Jim recovered from disease and harsh treatment. So the boy would ride the mule, and dream of the day that he could ride Jim.  Jim's only hope was that he didn't end up pulling a plow.

After the boy left, Jim had that part of the pasture to himself. He ate the grain that Blair had left for him, and the hay that had been forked down from the loft.  Blair's grandfather, and mother entered the pasture sometime later. The grandfather went to the pasture where the goats and sheep were housed, and looped a rope around one of the nanny goats. While the grandfather milked the goat, Naomi, Blair's mother, fed the sheep and goats.  Jim ignored their goings on, and grazed on the green grass of the pasture.

The two humans continued on with their daily chores, hoeing the garden, milking the goats, cutting firewood, and at one point Naomi took a bag and a walking stick and went off into the nearby forest. Jim figured she was off to collect herbs and healing plants that grew in the forest.  Eventually she returned, her bag full and four hares brought down by snares set along rabbit runs. She and her grandfather entered the house, and later Jim smelled the beginnings of a rabbit stew dinner.  In the afternoon hours, Blair returned. He unloaded the bags of feed he had brought. He then unsaddled and unbridled the mule, and brushed it coat, then release the animal to wander about the pasture. Immediately, the mule lowered its head to graze.

The boy went to Jim, and Jim stood still while Blair attached a lead rope to the halter Jim still wore. Placidly he followed Blair to the stable, where Blair tied the lead rope. Blair took out his ointments and rubbed them on the wounds on Jim's coat. The ointments helped with the pain, and the itching caused by the sores and cuts. Blair placed drops of something into Jim's eyes, and then doctored Jim's hooves again. Then the boy used his magic to ascertain Jim's health. The strange feeling of the boy's mind wandering through his body made Jim shiver.

When the boy withdrew, he patted Jim's chest. At that moment, Blair's grandfather entered the stable.

"What are you going to call him, Blair?" the grandfather asked with a grin. "We can't keep calling him horse, or stallion."

"I don't know..." Blair trailed off.

Jim waited, resigned to the fact that his name was going to be changed. The mercenary had called him Blade, the guard had called him Blackie, and the bandit had never named him. My name is JIM!!!!, Jim shouted in his mind, suddenly angry as he remembered the wizard who done this to him.

"Jim," Blair said suddenly startling Jim out of his anger. "I'll call him Jim, Big Jim." Blair grinned at his own joke as he looked up at the big black stallion.

Blair's grandfather clapped his shoulder, "A good name, Blair. Big Jim. It suits him."

Blair untied the lead rope from Jim's halter, and walked with his grandfather toward the house. Jim watched him leave stunned.  Did he hear me, somehow did he hear me shout my name, Jim thought shocked. Or is it coincidence. The boy had powers, but he is young, and his full powers will not be upon him for sometime. Suddenly Jim had a glimmer of hope. If the boy could tentatively hear him shout, then maybe when the boy was older and his powers were at their fullest, maybe, just maybe the boy would be able to hear him clearly.

He would have to wait, and see.

The next few weeks passed slowly. Blair continued each day to do his chores, then saddle up the mule and head to Lord D’Harsk’s place. Once there he took care of the lord’s animals, and was paid at the end of each day. The money helped. Blair was able to buy good feed for the stallion along with some alfalfa hay to help fill out the hollow places.

One morning a week after Blair had first gotten his job, he saddled the mule, then attached a lead rope to the stallion’s halter. He then mounted the mule and headed into town, the stallion following behind the mule.

In town, Blair went to the blacksmith, Jonas, and with the coins he had saved he paid for the stallion to be shoed.

At the blacksmith’s, Jim calmly allowed the blacksmith to lift each leg, and clean and scrape the hooves, and nail the horseshoes to his hooves. The process didn’t hurt, and Jim knew it would make his feet feel better.

“Pretty calm for a stallion.” Jonas pointed out.

“Until someone tries to steal him. He’s still recovering, Jonas. Thanks for taking the time to shoe him.” Blair answered.

“No problem. Want him marked?” the blacksmith asked.

“No need, for now anyway.” Blair answered, and led the newly shod stallion away from the blacksmith’s place over to where the mule was tied. Blair tied the end of the rope to the saddle.

“Stay here, and be good. I need to buy some things.” And with that Blair left the mule and stallion tied to the hitching post.

Jim scraped a hoof on the dirt testing the shoe. Lifting each hoof, he was able to determine that the balance was correct and that the blacksmith had done a good job.

Children ran through the streets, and the mule laid its ears back, not liking the sound, trying to decide if he wanted to do anything about it. Jim bared his teeth at the mule, and stamped one huge front hoof, and the mule settled sullenly.

Three boys around Blair’s age came up to where they were tied.

“Hey, it’s the bastard’s horse.” One of the boys, a red haired lanky kid, said.

“When did the bastard get a horse?” Another, tawny haired, pimple faced one, asked.

“About a week ago. The horse trader was planning on making it into dog food. Look at the ugly thing. Its got a jug head, and its eyes are set to far up.” The red haired boy answered.

“Yeah, its nothing but an old ugly plow horse. My da could use it to plow his field.” The third boy, bigger and heavier than the other two said. He walked over to where mule stood, and made as if to untie the rope from saddle. Jim however, shifted and swung his head butting the bigger boy in the back and knocking him flat on his face.

The boy was angry, he spluttered, turned around, and looked angrily at Jim. “That dumb ugly horse! He attacked my. My da will make sure he’s killed for that.”

“I doubt it, Sam. Considering you tried to steal him.” Blair said. He had returned and was carrying a few packages, presents for his mother and grandfather.

“Yeah right, like anyone is going to believe that.” Sam said getting up and looming over the smaller Blair.

Jim had had enough. He neighed baring his teeth, and rearing up. He crow hopped a few feet, and the boy, Sam, frightened by the giant animal, fell back and tripped right into the mud.

Jim neighed a laugh as he moved back to all four hooves. He wasn’t going to let anyone bully his rider.

“You bastard! Look what your ugly plowhorse did.”

“Its your fault, Sam. That isn’t a plowhorse. That’s a war horse. And you’d be wise to leave him alone.”

Sam laughed, “A war horse, yeah right!”

“Yes, it is a war horse.” Another voice said.

They all turned to look to see Henri in his lord’s livery mounted on a beautiful sorrel hunter. The boy’s eyes all went wide at the sight of the lord’s man.

“Hello Henri.” Blair said.

“Blair.” Henri nodded. Then he looked at the three boys, “I suggest you go home. I saw everything, and I know that it was entirely your fault, Sam. And leave Blair alone, he works for milord now, and milord will not take it kindly if one of his employees were to be harassed.”

The boys ran off.

Henri dismounted from the hunter, and led it over to the hitching post where he loosely tied the rein.

“Mind if I take a look, Blair?” Henri asked.

“No, go right ahead.”

Jim did nothing as the man came over and began to run his hands down Jim’s forelegs and chest. The man patted Jim’s foreleg, and obligingly Jim lifted it so Henri could look at his hoof.

Jim did not even offer to bite when Henri looked into Jim’s mouth.

“Blair, if he weren’t standing right in front of me, I wouldn’t believe it. I don’t how he came to be here, but you got yourself a Northern War Horse. And he’s maybe five years old, if that.”

“A Northern War Horse?” Blair asked.

“A special breed. They bred him in the northern kingdoms. Supposed to be smarter, and better trained than any of our southern breeds. And loyal, very loyal.”

“Wow. I’ve never even heard of these horses. How did a bandit come to have one?”

“Probably stole it. Probably didn’t even know what he had. You’re taking good care of him, Blair. Milord will be looking forward to seeing this horse after I tell him. He may even offer to buy him after he’s back to normal health.”

“I know we could use the money, but I’m getting sorta attached.”

Henri grinned, “If I had him, I wouldn’t let him go either. At the very least, milord would pay good money to use him for stud for our warmares. Northern blood might improve the next line.”

“That would be feasible, I’m sure.” Blair said.

“Well, I see you have presents, so I’ll not keep you any longer. See you tomorrow, Blair.”

“And you Henri.”

Henri untied and remounted his hunter, then rode away. Blair tied the packages behind the saddle, and mounted up on the mule. Jim followed as they left the village.

A week after the incident, Blair came out of the house, and did his morning chores. When he was done however, he did not saddle up the mule. Instead, he attached the lead rope to Jim’s halter, and led him to the stable. Once there, Blair tied the rope to a wooden post, and proceeded to check Jim over thoroughly. Running tiny hands over chest and legs, withers and rump, Blair looked for any signs of deformity or permanent injury. He looked in Jim’s mouth, ears, and eyes, and even disgustingly checked the fresh pile Jim had dropped. When all that was done, Blair then laid his small hands of Jim’s chest, and Delved using his powers. Blair’s mind seemed to move within Jim’s body, checking the large heart, the lungs, intestines, and bowels.

When he was done, Blair wiped the sweat from his face using a handkerchief.

“Well you are as healthy as a horse.” Blair laughed at his own joke. Jim just shook his mane.

Blair then dug into a wooden box and produced the currycombs. He spent some time currying Jim’s dark hide, which had once been dull. Now it was its normal glossy black. Blair then cleaned out Jim’s hooves, then placed everything back into the box. He then unbuckled the halter, and let it slide down around Jim’s neck, still keeping him secured to the post. Then from the box he produced a bitted bridle.

The bridle was not the same one Blair had been using for the mule. This one was larger, made for a horse Jim’s size.

Jim gave no trouble when Blair placed the bridle on his nose. He took the bit as he was supposed to, and chewed on it a bit while Blair buckled the bridle in place. Blair then took out a saddle blanket, which he placed over Jim’s broad back, and then over the blanket he placed a saddle.

Blair tightened the girth straps, readjusted the stirrups, and checked over every piece to be sure that there was no tears or places that would rub Jim.

When everything was settled, Blair unbuckled the halter from around Jim’s neck, and gripping the reins in his fist, Blair led Jim out of the pasture.

Blair’s mother and grandfather were waiting.

“You are going to need a boost up into that saddle. That stallion is entirely too big.” Blair’s grandfather said.

“That’s what the step ladder is for.” Naomi said with a smile.

Blair and his grandfather laughed at that.

Blair halted himself and Jim near where his grandfather and mother were waiting, but before he could get the requisite stepladder, Jim lifted his fore hoof back making a ‘step’ for Blair.

Blair noticed what the stallion had done. He looked at the animal in shock. “I didn’t know a horse could be trained to do that!”

“Why would he need to be?” Grandfather asked in confusion.

“Maybe his rider was small.” Naomi suggested. “Or injured in some way?”

“I guess we’ll never find out.” Blair said. He quickly used Jim’s hoof to easily get himself into the saddle. Once perched up there, Blair took the reins in hand. “I’m going to ride him at a walk for awhile. Maybe go to the village.” Blair told his mother.

“Alright. Be careful.” Naomi told her son, and Blair turned Jim onto the road.

Jim had been exercising himself in the pasture during the days when Blair was gone. He started out walking around the pasture, then trotting, then galloping. He built up his stamina enough so that when they headed down the road, Jim broke into a high stepping trot. Blair tried to get him to stop, but Jim ignored him, and continued on until Blair gave up and let him.

The trot felt good, his muscles were being used, and he could feel them as they stretched, and released with each step. He could feel his lings working, and his great heart beating, and the blood coursing through his body. In a rush of excitement, Jim threw his head back, and reared onto his hind hooves trumpeting a neigh. Fortunately, the boy managed to stay on Jim’s back and patted Jim’s arched neck when Jim touched ground once more, in an attempt to calm the great stallion.

“Easy there, I’m not a knight.” Blair explained to the stallion. “No need for theatrics.”

Jim could hear the boy’s heart racing, but from excitement not fear. Bobbing his head to acknowledge the boy’s touch, Jim picked up the pace still trotting in a showy performance for an audience of one.

As they trotted into the village, people stared at the high stepping shiny black stallion with the tiny boy perched on the huge animal’s back. Blair tried to ride lightly, keeping his back straight, and head up. He kept a straight face, but inside he was smiling with pride.

He lightly guided the stallion with the reins to the grain seller. He stopped at the hitching post in front of the store with its large warehouse.

Moving slowly, Blair swung his right leg over the pommel, and slid down the stallion shoulder onto the ground far below his feet. Giving himself a second to get use to standing, Blair tied the reins to the hitching post, then slowly walked into the store.

Jim watched the boy walk into the store, then settled himself to wait, one hind hoof in a resting position. His senses were alert however, so he noticed the scruffy looking man who was walking down the wooden sidewalk between the hitching posts and the stores. The man’s eyes darted from left to right as if looking for something as he walked nonchalantly to where Jim was tied. The man’s quick hand darted to where the reins where tied. Jim let him untie the reins, then laid his ears back, and snapped at the man’s hand.

The man was fortunate that he had quick reflexes or he would have lost the hand to the stallion’s teeth. As it was, Jim’s teeth drew blood.

The man appeared to be even a bigger fool than Jim first thought, because he tried for the reins again. Jim reared neighing loudly. One sharp hoof broke the rail between the hitching posts, and the other hit the man’s squarely on the left shoulder knocking him to the ground. At Jim’s neigh, people came out of the store in time to see Jim regain the earth, and the man lying on the sidewalk holding his now broken arm. . Blair was one of those who exited the store, and he went quickly to the stallion and grabbed the loose reins.

At that moment the constable, Bryan Rafe, came over.

The would-be thief claimed the stallion had attacked him, and that the animal was dangerous and should be destroyed. Rafe was no fool. The reins were not broken, they had been untied, and the man in question was a known thief.

“I don’t believe you, Orin. This stallion is obviously a warhorse, and worth a lot of money. You hoped to steal it, only you didn’t know that warhorses aren’t easy to steal. Come on.” He grabbed the thief by his good arm and hauled him off to jail.

Blair sighed with relief. He had been afraid that the constable would have believed the thief and had Jim destroyed. Retying the reins to the post, Blair turned to the storekeeper, Mr. Adams. “I’m sorry about the rail, sir. I’ll pay for it.” Blair said.

“No need, lad. The constable will see to it that that ruffian will replace the railing even if the thief has to build it himself. Now here comes your order. Is it safe for Aryc to put the bags on the horse?”

“Yes sir.” Blair answered.

The big man who worked for Mr. Adams placed the two bags of grain over Jim’s rump, and fastened them to the saddle. Blair had paid the storekeeper inside, and thanked the man as he untied the reins and mounted up. Blair felt there was no need to stay in town any longer.

Back at the farmhouse, Blair hauled the bags into the loft with the pulley, and then unsaddled and bridled Jim. He curried the stallion’s hide, then replaced the halter on Jim’s nose releasing the stallion into the pasture to graze.

He washed up quickly for supper, and headed inside. The next day Blair planned to ride Jim to the lord’s manor, and he was looking forward to it.

The following morning, Blair rose early and began his daily chores. He searched for eggs, reaching beneath sitting hens to snatch them, milking the cow, and carrying the mostly full pail of milk into the kitchen. Naomi took the pail from him and poured some of the milk into a crock, while the rest went to make butter in the churn.

After that Blair fed the chickens, and then went to the pasture where he forked down hay for the mule and the stallion, then poured grain in their trough.

Once done with his chores, Blair washed up and went inside to eat the breakfast Naomi had cooked; eggs, cheese, fresh baked bread, milk and sausage.

After breakfast, Naomi fixed Blair a lunch to take with him of bread and cheese and sausage rolls, while Blair saddled and bridled the stallion.

Naomi and Blair’s grandfather met them outside the house while Blair led the stallion into the yard. Blair took the bundle, and placed it in the saddlebags behind the saddle, and then using Jim’s leg, he climbed up into the saddle, and turned the stallion’s head down the road that would lead to the lord’s manor.

Jim picked the pace, a roving trot that would eat up the distance without tiring him. Blair guided with the reins, never pulling hard on the bit. The road winded its way through the forest, and Jim kept his senses alert for any danger.

Eventually they reached the manor riding through the guarded gates. The two guards at the gates had recognized Blair, but their eyes were wide at the site of the big black stallion. They opened the gate for Blair, and stared after him as horse and rider passed through.

A short path to the stable, and Blair halted the stallion beside an empty corral. Henri came out of the stable to greet Blair.

“Milord will be happy to know that you rode that one in. He’s been wanting to see your stallion for quite some time.” Henri said.

Blair slid down Jim’s shoulder to the ground, and grabbed hold of the reins. “He’s more than welcome to come look.” Blair said.

At that moment the door to the manor house opened and Lord D’Harsk stepped outside. He was dressed in dark leather, a deep green cloak around his shoulders, and he was smiling as he stepped down the stairs to the courtyard and made his way to the stables.

Both Blair and Henri bowed when Lord D’Harsk stepped up to them, and he acknowledged the bows with a nod of his head. Then his attention turned to the large stallion.

“You weren’t mistaken, Henri. This is definitely a northern-bred war stallion. I never thought to see one this far south. May I?” He asked Blair one hand held out.

“Of course, milord.” Blair answered.

Jim stood still and offered no violence when the young lord began to run his hands over Jim’s shoulders neck, withers, back and legs. He obligingly lifted a hoof for the lord to inspect.

“He’s in good condition despite that scar. Caused by a pike or spear I would guess. He a perfect specimen of a northern-bred war horse.” The lord said, as he looked the animal over.

The lord than stood at Jim’s head, and held the bridle so he could look at his nostrils, and then his teeth. Jim looked at the blue eyed lord and gave no trouble.

When Lord D’Harsk was finished with his examination, he stepped back. “You got yourself a bargain with this one, Blair. If he could talk he would tell us a strange story about how he got from the northern provinces all the way down here to my small southern province.”

You don’t know the half of it, Jim thought.

“I won’t offer to buy him, because I know that while you would love to keep him, you know how expensive it is to keep a large horse like this in feed and healthy.”

“I don’t understand?” Blair said.

“I don’t want you to have to give up this horse, so I am making another offer. I would like to breed him to a few of my own southern-bred war mares. I’ll pay the stud fee, and that should help you and your family.”

Blair looked at the stallion, then back to Lord D’Harsk, “Its perfectly alright with me. There’s nothing wrong with him to keep him from breeding, but are you sure you want to breed him to your best mares. He doesn’t have any papers?”

“He doesn’t need papers. Come here, I’ll show you.” Lord D’Harsk stepped up to the stallion, and opened the animal’s mouth. Blair came with him, and saw what the lord wanted to show him. Tattooed numbers and symbols inside the stallion’s on the lower lip.

Lord D’Harsk released the stallion’s head, and said, “See. That proves he is a northern-bred, if my own eyes won’t tell me. And yes, I am perfectly willing to breed him to my best mares. Their foals will be magnificent.”

“Then it’s a deal, milord.” Blair said holding out his hand.

Lord D’Harsk smiled, and shook Blair’s hand.

Later Blair unsaddled, and unbridled the stallion, and placed him inside the corral, then went to work on checking each of the animals on the manor farm.

While Blair was busy, the deal he had made with D’Harsk began. Henri led a chestnut war mare to the corral. The mare was in heat, Jim could tell from the smell.

Once that scent hit him, all rational thought left. The stallion’s mind may have been wiped out with the transfer but some instincts remained behind. And the scent of a mare in heat brought out one of those instincts.

He serviced the mare several times, and when Henri took the mare out of the corral later that day, and the scent finally dissipated, Jim returned to his normal mental state.

A few hours later, Blair was finished, and came to get Jim who was grazing on the alfalfa hay placed in the corral for him.

He stood steady while Blair saddled and bridled him, and immediately lifted his hoof to give Blair a boost; a move that surprised the onlookers.

“I never knew a horse could be trained to do that.” Henri said.

“I didn’t either.” Lord D’Harsk said. He stepped up to the stallion, and handed up to Blair three sacks that clinked. “Her is your pay, and the stud fee.”

Blair looked into one of the sacks and nearly dropped it in surprise. “Did you pay me too much?”

“Nope, that is the standard stud fee for a northern bred war horse.” He smiled up at Blair.

The three sacks carried not only the silver for Blair’s pay, but five hundred gold crowns. Blair could not imagine what his mother and grandfather could do with all that gold. After tying the sacks to the saddle, Blair leaned down and hugged the stallion’s neck much to Jim’s surprise. “All because of you, my Big Jim.”

Knowing the standard stud fee, Jim was glad for Blair. He knew that Blair’s family could use the money, especially if they intended to keep him for any length of time. War horses were expensive to keep.

With a wave goodbye, Blair turned Jim’s head pointing him to the road, and Jim broke into his high stepping trot as they headed home.