Free Rein
by GT Dodge
Copyright© 2025 by GT Dodge
Action/Adventure Story: A knight astride a horse with a grudge. Whatever you do, do not give him his head! What Free Rein really means. See Sister story Free Reign for the alternative.
Tags: Historical Revenge Violence
I had hoped to find an easier path to our prey but, will I or nill I, I had given my horse free rein and it chose the simplest path.
My gauntlet had slipped, I had dropped both reins to save my lance. My charger, tallest stallion in our stables, my father’s final gift to me when I rode to war, shook his head at the suddenly free rein. We had not ridden without bridle since he was a colt.
He stopped suddenly, bracing all four hooves, nostrils quivering. Then he reared, coming down facing across the road seething with horsemen. There, up the opposite slope rode my foe! The hated knight still sporting the blue and green livery looted from my father’s castle; still riding the massive black charger that had nearly run me down from ambush just yesterday.
For all the road and slope between us, my enemy rode not an arrows-flight away!
As the Saints bear witness, my horse saw them and neighed, nay, screamed his challenge at the heavy black stallion and its armored rider. I leaned and kneed it away, intending to ride to the end of this ridge, hoping to find an easier path to our prey but given free rein, my horse chose the simplest path, charging down the slope and splashing thru the muddy fields that flanked the road. Men quit their ordered files before our charge. They ran. As we drove towards them, lesser horses, and perforce their riders, bolted out of our way. A glance to either side showed the Eastern King’s forces in disarray as we clove a straight path towards the black stallion.
Behind us, the enemy host roiled in confusion. The head of their column had marched on as the officers ignored the confusion to their rear. Far back, the road blocked ahead, companies halted in uncertainty. They had hurried, now they waited. No doubt soldiers fell out for a wet or a leak. Here, where the valley closed to just the road pinched between two ridges, whistles rent the summer air, banners whipped furiously, and shouts to “Rally!” sought to recall the eastern soldiers to proper formation. Too late! From the high ground, bugles proclaimed our attack, My Lord’s cavalry already charging in full stride.
My horse pounded forwards, claiming a lane between hundreds of foot soldiers. Next, he forced his way thru a train of tented carriages whose be-ribboned mules wheeled and overturned the wagons. A bevy of courtiers and their women tumbled into the road.
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