A Knight's Mount

Some of my family have big dreams.
To go off into battle, to win a tournament, and to catch the bad guys.
You know, all the brave, heroically foolish stuff.
And I'm pretty sure that they would be great at it. I mean, mother talks about our many greats grandfather and all the trouble he got into with the knights of the Southern Dell.
Seriously, no horse in their right mind would willingly (and even eagerly) charge a fifty foot dragon.
But as I've come to mourn, I seem to be the only foal in the family who hasn't bought into all of that foolish eternal glory stuff the knights boast about.
And hopefully after today, I'll never have to listen to it again.
It's hard not to fidget as I hear the groups of knights approach the corral where my siblings and I are. We're old enough the serve as a knight's mount now, and have been given some basic training in what to expect from our future rider.
I want no part of it.
No lances being accidentally thrust into my side instead of at whoever happens to be on my back. No charred tail from barely escaping a dragon's fire. No arrows, no galloping through the rain with barbarians and their riders chasing me.
I want no part.
So even through I would make a great companion who would actually keep my rider out of danger, I'm going to play dumb.
So while my brothers prance about to show the knights just how handsome a mount they would make, and while my sisters pose with serene elegance, I keep my head down and pretend to graze.
"Look at that black stallion, he'd be perfect for a noble vassal of our King!" One knight bellowed. My brother (who gave himself the name of Charging Darkness) leapt into a prideful rear to lash out at some imagined foe with his forelegs.
"Well, I'd rather go with the lovely roan. She seems wise one."
My as yet unnamed sister tossed her head, pleased with the attention.
And so it went, with my other brother and my two remaining sisters quickly being selected by the remaining knights.
I almost relaxed from my pretend grazing as the knights approached their selected mounts with the simple tack our keeper provides when someone wants to see how we ride.
But then I heard some new voices, and realized that not all of the knights' group had gained a new mount yet.
"Why do I always get stuck with the boring horse?" A loud, gruff voice complained. I risked a glance toward it, and hard to stifle my urge to bolt to the other side of the corral. This knight was huge. My back ached just thinking about what having him as a rider would be like.
"You could always check Farlain's stock, I heard he's supposed to have just gotten a fine white charger." A cool, silky voice replied from somewhere beside the giant, and I caught a glimpse of a pointy hat.
"Eh, too much of a walk." The knight said as he leaned against the corral's wooden fence. I did not like how it gave a loud groan at even that little amount of the knight's weight. "This fellow might not seem like a worthy mount for one of my prestige, but his fire will ignite once he scents our grand adventure."
Please, please, don't saddle me to such a monstrously sized poet.
I lifted my head, though the movement made the frightening knight perk up and the fence give another groan at his movement.
Cautious that this had to be believable, I began a slow, stumbling limp toward the water troth. I favored one hind leg as if it had been recently injured, doing my utmost to give off the air that I was a broken, sorrowful creature that would only be good taking a cart from the farm into town.
The knight watched my performance for a long while, and I was afraid that he could somehow see through it.
But then he slumped against the fence (surely it would break now, for nothing creaked like that without breaking) and gave a pitying moan. "Just my luck. Seems I'll have to walk over to Farlain's for a good mount."
Without waiting for his fellow knights, the giant knight straightened and walked away with such mighty steps that surely the ground shook. Poor white charger, if the was the horse the giant chose.
Though having known a couple of white chargers, I knew that they we the most fanatical when it came to becoming a knight's mount.
With a shake of my head, I bent to take a drink.
But as I was drinking, I felt cool hands on my hind leg.
I stiffened beneath the gentle touch, half my mind insisting that I kick whoever had snuck up on me.
But no, such a violent reaction would only draw the attention of a knight.
"Your leg feels perfectly fine, my cunning friend." It sounded like the silky voice, the one belonging to the man with the pointy hat.
Twisting my neck, I stared at the pointy hat man. Surely he wasn't a knight. Knights weren't usually so slender and, well, bony-armed.
"So, why would only one horse pretend to be lamed while being watched by a knight? Most of your kind seem eager to prove themselves ready for any danger." Pointy hat man said, releasing my leg as he straightened from his crouch.
I gave a snort and shook my head. I was not going to be a foolish foal who warmed up to some knight-in-training. That was almost as bad as having an actual knight as a rider.
The pointy hat man laughed, and I stared at him.
"If you really plotted to avoid becoming a knight's mount, then I must tip my hat to you." The man said, lifting his hat off his dark-haired head for a moment.
I gave a huff and turned away from him. He certainly was chatty, for one of his kind to one of mine. It almost seemed like he actually wanted to talk with me, and not just at me.
The sudden sensation of my riding tack appearing was startling. How could I go from not even having a blanket on my back, to being fully tacked in a single moment?
"Sorry about that, not very nice. But you seem like the type who'd start feigning another injury to get out of being saddled." Pointy hat man said as I felt him climb onto my back. "Like I said, you seem pretty cunning. I'd prefer a mount with a bit of cunning, and if you dislike the thought of a knight on your back, then you'll probably not go charging into danger without a valid reason."
He was certainly right about that. I did not was to be anywhere near dangerous situations, or knights for that matter.
"Anyway, I fragile wizard like myself needs a sensible mount, and I'd be honored if you would be it." Pointy hat man said, and a turned my head to look back at him.
A wizard? In some ways, they were worse than knights. Always casting magic willy-nilly, disregarding how their mount might not like having their ears accidentally transformed to those of a donkey.
But this wizard seemed fairly sensible, and as if he might share my dislike of danger.
Besides, he would probably be the only rider who might listen if I complained.
So with one last careful look into his brown eyes, I turned forward and started a slow, graceful trot.