Horsemen Trials, A Fantasy Story about Horses

I sat perched on the fence, watching the horses mill around. I was not the only one there, perched on the fence. The horses were donated from nearby and villages, sometimes from livery stables. All of them had been ridden or at least broken into riding.

I watched them for awhile, taking longer than most of my other competitors. I wanted to get the right one. What I meant by right, I wasn't sure. I just wanted it to be... right.

Finally I narrowed it down to three. A big chestnut gelding, a smallish bay gelding, and a skewbald mare. The chestnut gelding was very much a gentle giant. He deferred to others.

The bay gelding was very feisty, and not to be looked down on because of his size. I liked him, but was worried that I might be too big for him. I also wasn't sure I wanted to deal with his spunky personality.

I had pretty much ruled out the skewbald mare, I didn't pay much attention to her. I didn't think I wanted her because she might have marish behavior. But I did like her markings, which was why I had considered her in the first place.

I had pretty much decided on the chestnut gelding and began to get off the fence.

"You've decided?"

The quiet voice startled me and I nearly fell off the fence. I turned to see the man me and Lillian had met on the road riding a regal gray stallion. Mr. Blair sat tall and proud, the horse beneath mirrored him.

"Oh," I said as I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Hello, Mr. Blair."

His eyes crinkled in amusement. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Have you decided which horse you're going to work with?"

"Yes, I think I have," I replied.

"Which one?"

I pointed to the chestnut. "That one, number 171," I said.

"Why'd you choose him?"

His questions surprised me. After all, why should he be this interested in me and my horse? But I answered anyway.

"Because he's a gelding and he seems like a good horse that I'd like to train."

"So, you chose him because he seems like a good horse?"

I furrowed my brow. "Yes, I did."

His eyes lighted on the gelding and he stared at him for a couple of moments. Another horse moved towards the gelding and he simply backed away, showing complete submissiveness. He tilted his head.

"What makes you think he'd be a "good horse"?" he asked.

"Well, he seems very mild mannered, able to learn and adapt to whatever I ask of him in the future," I replied, confident in my answer.

"You mean that you will be able to easily coerce him to do whatever you want him to do," he said quietly.

That was a blow to my confidence. I raised an eye brow. "What?"

"You will be able to force him to do whatever you want, he is less likely to protest and will just bend to your will." Suddenly the horse seemed to move beneath him, coming up close to the fence.

"Tell me, what have you come here to do?"

"I've come here to show that I am a horse women," I replied defensively. This man was starting to get on my nerves.

"So, in short, you want to win."

"Yes, that is what I plan on doing," I replied harshly. My confidence, and a bit of my pride was being smashed under his words. I didn't like it.

"Young one, you have two choices. You can let the judges of the Trials define whether you are a horse women or not. Or you can let the horses decide."

Now I was really puzzled. "Let the horses decide?"

"Yes." He dismounted from his proud steed and leaned against the fence rail, looking out into the milling horses.

"Horses know whether you are true or fake. They judge by deeds, not by titles. They value honesty.

"The name horseman, or horsewoman, means what it says. They are men and women who are part horse themselves. They understand horses, and know what they need. They let the horse define whether they are horsemen, or not."

My mind was reeling, and suddenly I was questioning my motives. "Maybe I shouldn't compete at all."

He chuckled. "No, not that. But let your goals and ideals in this competition be different. Now, what other horses were you thinking about?"

"Well I was thinking about that small bay gelding," I said. "But it looks like someone already got him." A man was putting a halter on him and leading him out of the pen.

"Any others?"

"Yeah, that skewbald mare," I said as I pointed to her. "Number 192. But I ruled her out 'cause she's a mare, and might have mood swings."

"She's perfect. Get her." He said without hesitation.

"But-" I protested, but he cut me off. "No buts about it. Mares for the most part need someone to listen to them and to understand them." He looked me in the eye. "You will learn a lot from her, if you're willing to try."

I decided to take on the challenge. "Alright. I'll take her."

"Good." He turned and gathered up the reins of his horse. He mounted and held out his hand for me. "I'll take you to the claiming stations. You'd better think of a name."

I grabbed his hand and he lifted me up onto the back of his horse. We turned and headed off towards the claiming stations.

I noticed two things as I rode behind Mr. Blair, clinging to him. For one thing, he guided his horse with almost imperceptible aids. It almost seemed like he simply thought about turning to the right and his horse obeyed.

The other thing I noticed was that when the horse broke into trot, I bounced around, my head juggling up and down. It was worse without a saddle, but even with one my sitting trot wasn't much better.

But Mr. Blair sat very still, his head not bobbing, seeming to absorb all the movement into myself. He was so still and upright. I marveled at this.

The horse broke in a slow canter. It seemed so soft, so collected and refined. "What is your horse's name?" I asked Mr. Blair. "Rejem," he replied.

But my thoughts soon returned to the matter at hand. I needed to decided on a name for my mare. I thought about Blossom, or Clover. What about Cloud?

But when we finally came to a halt in front of the Claim Stations, I had decided. Now to find out if she would even be mine.