Six: The Bishop’s Horses

Adjusting to a new home, a fancy set of stables where servants fussed over you there was the best food and as much space as you needed, was not as difficult as you had assumed it to be. In fact, with Karl around for a while there was nothing for you to be concerned about and it wasn’t long before spring was in the air, Karl had left and you were going to be introduced to the stallions in this place!

You’d spent the first three months getting to know the other mares amongst the stables and checking on where Prussia was. As much as it surprised these strange scruffy looking mares, they were all very pleased that you were so much bigger then they were, you also felt startlingly happy as the mares all clustered about you whenever you came outside. With your size, experience and in general the fact that the first mare to bite you was given a harsh kick, the other animals had decided amongst themselves that you were the lead mare and in general, life was good. You never shared a field with Prussia anymore though, in fact he was in a field nearby on his own and every morning the pair of you nuzzled in a ritual greeting.

But you had not met any of the other stallions and when the day came and a new stallion was brought into the field… you were more then a little shocked.

“Oh looked, it’s Estonia!” One of the mares beside you had nickered in excitement one afternoon. You had been enjoying the fresh new spring grass, flicking at the flies that had come to wake in the warm sunshine with your tail, and automatically you’d lifted your head to look. You had a few long shoots of grass in your mouth still and so you chewed away in enjoyment before noticing the curious newcomer entering the field. The mares all rushed over to nuzzle at him and he seemed very gentle and friendly, eager to nose them back. But you looked at the dun coloured animal with his scrappy pony-type mane, his short but stockier body and you were unimpressed by his looks.

It was not that you really cared what a stallion looked like, the humans seemed to believe that whatever stallion you bred with would produce a good knight’s steed, but you were a little pickier. To be honest this Estonia stallion looked a reasonable animal, but he reminded you awfully of the wilder ponies you’d seen the Livonia knights riding. With a snort you ignored him as he greeted everyone and instead settled back to grazing. It didn’t take a long time for Estonia to notice you however and once he had, the stallion came trotting over with his plush muzzle extended to you in greeting.

“Hello Madam, my name is Estonia… I’ve not been introduced to you before, are you one of the Bishop’s chargers?” He questioned with a whicker of interest and you immediately pulled your head up and glared down at him. Estonia was a little taken aback by your sudden aggression, but he stepped back cautiously and lowered his head so that you were not so unhappy. With a snort you shook your head and, feeling a little bad about it all, stretched out your pink muzzle and patted his in gentle greeting.

“My name is _____; I’m from the Teutonic Knight’s Order. I’ve been purchased by the Bishop, but my master is Meister Karl. Why have you been put in with the mares here, Estonia?” You grunted gently, trying to get an idea of whether this stallion was the typical kind, wanting to just mate or whether he was a little more different then that. To your surprise Estonia just tilted his head to the side before flicking his tail and starting to graze beside her for a moment as he thought it over in his head. You did not like his slow reaction and did not continue to graze, ready to chase him clean away from you if he didn’t give a response you could understand.

“The humans bring me in from time to time to help the mares think about having foals. If I’m lucky, a mare will let me mate and the Bishop will agree on it. But normally I just check which mares want to me and inform the masters. At the moment, no one wants to mate but I’ll be left in here and watched for a few days in case anyone changes their mind.” Estonia nickered with a gentle look on his face and you gave a snort before shaking your head and flicking your tail in annoyance. What kind of life was that?

You nipped his shoulder playfully, making him squeal in delight and buck at the air. When Estonia paused you kicked the dirt a little and bobbed your head up and down in a playful motion. The shorter stallion gave another snort of amusement before skipping about you in a playful manner before lunging forward and nipping your shoulder. You gave a snort, none of the mares liked to play much so having an eager playmate was a nice bit of relief. You rushed after him and for about an hour the pair of you rushed about and through the amused mares in delight. One or two of the younger mares even joined in and for a little while you were leading three other horses about in an attempt to chase the speedy little stallion that was surprisingly good to jinking to the side and avoiding your nips.

The game would have gone on longer but for the roar of a terrifying stallion not that far away. The sound made Estonia freeze in terror and the mares whicker in fright and anxiety. You’d heard from Prussia about two of the crazier stallions in the stables that were a bit odd called Poland and Lithuania, but he had mentioned that he hadn’t met the Bishop’s personal mount. But noting that your new friend was frozen in fear and you’re the mares were shuffling back to their normal activities, you gave a vicious snort before nudging Estonia’s shoulder.

“Who was that?” You questioned but Estonia felt a little too afraid to move. When you realised this, you butted his side and the stallion gave a quick little jump in surprise. He then turned to look at you in anxiety before shaking his head gently.

“That’s Sweden. He was a gift to the Bishop from the King of his country. He’s about the same height as you but maybe even stockier and scary. He’s a sort of black colour with a strange iron look to him… his hair is long in big black knotted strands and his legs are coated in black feathering. He used to pull wagons until the Bishop realised how brave and powerful an animal he was – the Bishop used to ride with him into battle until an arrowhead wound made him retire. The Bishop likes to use him to breed with all the tough looking mares to make a better kind of knight’s horse.” Estonia nickered fearfully and the anxiety inside his words made you snort in annoyance, so what if he was a big stallion?

“Doesn’t matter… he just sounded like he was angry, that was all that bothered me.” Then with a flick of your tail you settled back down to grazing with Estonia at your side. However, this manner of playing with the teaser stallion, being comfortable around him and the fact that you always greeted the white stallion made an onlooker curious. He recognised these signs within you as a signal that you would be eager to mate a stallion and so they went to the master and the next day, you were not led to the field at all!

You behaved though as they led you out to the yard and encouraged you to stand. They took two long lines of rope attached to your head collar and tied them to two posts; you assumed it was time for a long wash and they expected you to fidget. You gave a snort and stood expectantly as they then took the fabric hood you had seen the knight’s mounts wearing and tried to put it on your head. You gave a snort and pulled your head away gently, why did you need to have a hood on your head? You weren’t scared of being washed! With a gentle nip you took the fabric from them and dropped it on the floor, flicking your tail gently in amusement. The humans muttered in confusion but as soon as they had patted your shoulders, you stood stock-still in terror at the heavy snorts and roars of an excited stallion nearby.

You were barely able to turn your head about and see the stallion, but you could hear the heavy breaths and footfalls of a big animal. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted a massive black shade coming towards you and so immediately began to kick your legs about and pull around in panic. This made the humans mutter in surprise and yet they seemed to shrug off your fright as ‘first time jitters’. So they grabbed the ropes and pulled them in tightly as you tried to rear up in anger, but with them having full control of your head, you were forced to stand as the stallion was brought up behind you. He seemed to snort though in understanding and gently brushed his head against your side, making you whicker in warning.

“Don’t worry… all young mares are the same and I’m not a light animal. But this is what the masters want from you and it is perfectly natural. I won’t hurt you, I’ll be gentle.” Sweden snorted gently, his tone strangely bored as if he was only here because it was what the humans expected of him. You tried to turn your head about to get a better look at him and were startled as he stepped forward to meet you. As the big black animal stepped forward, the humans holding onto him tried to keep him in place but were jerked forward and onto the floor. You snuffed at him as he stretched his nose to yours and gently began to groom your neck. This was one big stallion and obviously very strong… making you ponder about what the downside would be to letting him mount you?

What was so bad about it? Okay it was a scary encounter, but it would only happen once and then that would be it. You’d not have to worry about him bothering you again and instead you’d have a foal to take care of. You recalled that both your mother and all your friends had been born in this way… created for a purpose for the humans in a way that well, was better for your bloodline then it could be in the wild. Living without a master, you’d never be fed, never be healthy and never be content – if this was the only price to pay to have a good comfortable life and produce a child you could be proud of it… maybe it wasn’t so bad?

“If you really do not want this… I won’t do it.” Sweden hen snorted gently, nibbling your shoulders gently and encouraging you to relax. You groomed him back and the humans just relaxed, they were sure that Sweden would deal with the situation and they wouldn’t need to interfere. You however thought over his words carefully, perhaps this task were as mundane to him as anything, the price he had to pay so that he would never have to die in a battle with a wild stallion over something as simple as a pool of water.

Perhaps this was just the only thing the humans could ask of you now… and hadn’t Karl been excited about the idea of you having a foal?

With a gentle motion you flicked your tail to the side and held it there. Sweden continued to groom and nuzzle at your shoulder and neck before he gently lifted himself up. In a matter of seconds it was over and you were lead back to your field to live out the rest of your time undisturbed… but never to see Sweden again, perhaps….

But when you returned to your field, it was Prussia that first greeted you instead of the mares or Estonia, who’d been left in with them to spot the next potential breeder. For a moment you felt unsure about going over to him and pressing your muzzle to his, but he seemed eager for the attention. As you stood beside the fence and strained your neck to nuzzle and nip at his shoulders, Prussia attempted to do the same, but was startled. He could smell the other stallion on you and gave a few anxious snorts of upset, worried that you’d been forced into something you had not wanted. But you continued to nip at his shoulder and groom him in contentment.

Secretly though you felt a sudden pang of upset that Prussia had not been the stallion you’d been with. Almost without thinking you nuzzled his shoulder and began to flick your tail about in an enticing manner. Before you realised it, his lips were curling slightly as he caught the varied odours in the air. A human watching you in the paddock suddenly felt a bit panicked and rushed to find the others to help… he guessed that there could be a battle between Estonia and Prussia or worse! But as soon as the human was gone, Prussia backed away from the fence before running at it and jumping it clean over, before strolling to your side and nibbling at your withers.