Day 14 - Black Horse

"And when may I expect the horse?"

"Her wagon is just a ways back." As he said this, a wagon bearing a small, dark foal pulled forward into view. From this distance, it appeared the horse was lying down.

"And the journey? Has she been made to walk it, as well?"

"She's been exercised a twice daily, but only during rest stops and not to travel. We have orders from… We have orders to treat her well and to deliver her to you without the wear of travel."

"And how far have you come? Where does she call home?"

The visitor cleared his throat. "She is here now to be broken and trained by you. You'll be rewarded, you may trust in that."

"I would like the return of such trust," replied Helmuth as he squared his shoulders and looked sternly into the eyes of the mounted horseman.

"As men of God, you may trust us."

Men of God? A mounted, non-armed army of holy men?

"What is this trick?" Demanded Helmuth. "What are you playing at?"

By this time, the cart had reached these two men, and the arrival of the Oldenburg caused an abrupt ceasefire in their conversation. Even lying down, the foal was a specimen worthy of admiration. Soot-black, she was easily a smooth shadow, were it not for the background of hay and worsted blankets. The ropes that bound her to the cart were startlingly bright against her ebony skin. Though tied, she did not struggle as Helmuth approached, though her eye rolled in its socket to observe him underneath her long, delicate lashes.