The King.

Chapter 1

Here I was, my head tapped between two cross ties, restricting my movement, right at feeding time, when I'm supposed to be eating breakfast. I was skeptically eyeing a groom, crouching down beside me. He was a short man, but much too pudgy to possibly be a jockey. He had shaggy, black hair that spilled in his eyes, a scruffy mustache that made it difficult to see his upper lip, and muck smeared in random splashes all over him. He was squeezing my leg and leaning on it, obviously asking me to pick up my hoof, a hoof pick in his other hand. But my foot didn't budge, and I snorted softly to protest. He glared behind me, then leaned off my leg for a second, and then crashed against it with all his weight, which was quite a lot for a short man like him. I grunted softly, my knee cocking slightly under the force, and he scooped up my foot. How clever. My ears flew back and pinned against my skull, but he ignored me, and began to pick dirt from my foot with hard, short strokes. Deciding I would not stand for this, I picked something I found was very useful with the other grooms, who weren't quite as snooty as this one. Leaning down, I opened my jaw wide...

And bit his butt. I clamped my teeth down, hard, locking my jaw. And let me tell you, you have never felt pain if you have never felt a horse actually bite you.

He yowled in pain, dropping my hoof frantically, the hoof pick skittering across the flor, and trying to jump away from me. As he did so, I took a patch of his pants off with a satisfied ripping sound, the piece of his pants dangling between my teeth. He clenched his jaw, sending me the worlds worst evil eye you could imagine, searing into me. But I ignored it, waving the fabric in my mouth around like a prize, whinnying happily, my eyes shining with trouble.

"DAMN DEVIL!" he yelled through the whole entire stable, causing the horses to pause from their munching to poke their heads out of their stalls. One by one, sleek, well-bred heads popped up down the isle, and soon the whole barn erupted in amused nickers at the sight of the groom stomping around in frustration. I stomped my foot right next to the groom, making him jump with an alarmed sound, and curse yet again. Then, he spun around, marching to a nearby wall, in which a crop was leaning against, the thin object striking fear in my stomach, making it seem to twist. He snatched it up, my eyes widened, and the barn went deathly silent. So silent, anyone could hear a pin drop from the very edge of it. The piece of fabric fell from my jaws, tumbling to the ground with a cloud of dust. The horses went back to eating, not wanting to witness what was about to happen. The groom spun to me, veins buldging from his neck, lifting the crop above his head, his eyes bugged, searching for payback. Just then, thankfully a little girl and an older woman walked through the door way. The woman stopped, standing square, her eyes set dissaprovingly on the scene in front of her, her nose stuck in the air, the small child clinging to her hand had a thumb stuck in her mouth, her eyes, full of wonder, traveling over the horses. The womans sharp and commanding voice rung through the stables.

"Now, mister Bently, what on earth do you think your doing?" I turned my head forward to face the pair, my ears swiveling back and forth.

Strutting down the isle, clearly unhappy, came the woman who walked in with the little girl. Her heels made loud, yet somehow comforting, noises against the concrete. Click, clack, click, clack,  the only noise in the silent barn. Holding the little girls hand in her perfectly manicured hand, the little girl was hurrying to keep up with the woman's long strides, being pulled along.  The woman looked like the girls older twin, hardly any difference. She was very tall and thin, but she had a well sculpted figure. The only difference was, instead of the girls warm blue gaze, hers was dark brown with golden flecks, and demanded respect, shining with strength, not innocence. Her chin was sticking out, her intimidating stare fixed on the groom, who's crop was slowly lowering, his eyes widening, and his face becoming pale with terror, limbs freezing. It was obvious how much authority this woman held on the stables. She strode right to the groom, allowing the little girls hand to slip from hers. The little girl hurried to me, throwing her arms around my leg (as she could hardly reach anywhere else), and began sniffling softly, murmuring inaudible, comforting words, shocked by the scene she had just walked into.

"I-I-I... I... I uh, ya see... I was uhm..." He stuttered, the crop dropping from his grip, clattering to the floor. I leaned down, as best I could in the cross ties, and nuzzled the little girls blonde hair. I sent the groom a triumphant look, but he didn't meet my gaze.

"Because, I believe you were just about to strike my husbands prized horse with a crop." She cut him off, glowering at him. He ducked his head, turning a glare towards me. Then she tapped her foot loudly against the ground, demanding his attention, and his head swung back to her.

"But... But... But... He bit me!" He whined, crossing his arms. "He started it!" He huffed. Honestly, he sounded like a child, and not a grown man.

"Sir Bently, are you suggesting a horse started an argument of some sort? He's a horse, and I'm sure you did something to provoke him, but horses don't intentionally 'Start' anything." She challenged, hissing softly. He frowned, looking down at his twiddling thumbs.

"Miss... But this one, this ones smart... Too smart, if you ask me... Hes the only horse I have a problem wi-" He began, but was soon cut off.

"Sir, this horse may be quick, but no horse is smart. If this horse was smart, we wouldn't be able to ride him. Now, I suggest I don't see you do anything like that again, or else you're fired. And my husband will certainly be hearing about this. Now, go get me Joe, and you take the rest of the day off. But don't worry, today is certainly going unpaid." She growled. I felt relieved, Joe was a great groom. Gentle and kind, and always had a peppermint on him. I the woman was not serious about me being dumb. She knew me, I could tell. She had a way with horses. The whole family did. My master chose me, because he knew I wanted to race. It does not matter if the horse is fast or not, but if it doesn't want to race, it is not racing. They knew that. I nickered softly, and the child was now glaring at the groom too, with as much intensity as her mother, but not unlatching from my leg. The groom looked like he was about to argue, but the woman's stare made him rethink his idea.

"Yes... Ma'am..." He mumbled, turned, and stumbled out of the barn, the hole in his pants exposed, and so was part of his red spotted underwear. I nickered after him, my eyes shining. The woman turned to me, her voice and gaze much more soft now. Laying her hand on my muzzle, she shook her head, laughing softly.

"You are just a handful of trouble, aren't you?" She smirked, looking down and nudging the fabric of the grooms trousers with the toe of her shoe.

"Momma, he deserved it!" The little girl whined, nuzzling my shoulder and planting a kiss on it, even when her mother wasn't speaking to her. Rosy gave horses a voice when they didn't have one, even though hers was one of a small child.

"Yes, Rosy. I know." She smiled, ruffling her daughters hair. "Now come on, we need to put this one back in his stall." I nudged the woman's stomach affectionately, making a soft snorting sound.