Zahrah

Yes, please sit down. I no longer follow the palace protocol, you know. (posturing of lethal liars!) I've sent my daughter Asila for refreshments, take your ease. It's frightfully warm this time of year, isn't it?

Well. To begin: My name is Zahrah al-Zarqa. My name means Grey Desert Flower, Blooming. Were you my beloved, you could call me Sarah. ...If you were my beloved.

You already know that I'm a royal, though now untitled, of the House of al-Sa'ud. I am descended from the fabled Al-Hamdaniyeh; my other ancestors are Taamri, Rudann, Turfa, and Fadl. There are others of course, all of them as pure as any Asil that ever lived, but for now you shall accept my purity as a given.

Indeed... would you be here if you had not already? Yes.

You ask, "What is purity?" I will tell you.

Purity is submission, willing or unwilling. Purity is rebellion, rightly or wrong. Purity is the start and end of all that is goodly, and evilish, and happyful, and despairing.

Such a polite and discrete laugh you have at my choice of words! I like you. But, listen.

Purity is the way the world looked and felt that day when I carried my wounded, barefoot beloved to the crest of that grassy ridge, where we beheld storms gathering with that muffled thump of thunder miles away. We were weak from hunger. My beloved was fouled from the flux, cramped and often retching over my shoulder. He frequently fainted and fell off. The sun was over our right shoulders making that special light of autumn at hand, and the tall dry grass waved in the wind making that dry, whispery sound. The air seemed stretched to a high keen of a pitch that can't be heard, torn between the dying heat of summer and the coming season's cool. My beloved looked through my eyes (he could do that), and for a single vanishing moment, we both felt something only distantly happy.

I mean Joy.

Of course, given our proscribed status (so unfair!) we were both certain we would shortly be killed, but looking back on that moment on the grassy ridge with my poor beloved, I now believe that, without the imminence of our murder, the moment of Joy could not have been. It was a gift, a sign. A command to be alert for greater wonders combined with deeper despair. Yes. I see it all now, safe in my exile, comfortable.

Purity is all of this, none of this, and something else again.

Ah, here are our refreshments carried by my ever-tardy Asila.

You little twit, you forgot the cakes! You what?! NO, they were NOT for you! Tell Cook to make another batch, and keep your nose out of them! Go!

Yes. Well. I love iced drinks. Especially good in this heat. Don't you agree?

There. Are you comfortable? Good. We have much to discuss. You shall be my honored guest. You are under my protection.

We shall be friends.

I insist.

Anduril

Named after the famed sword of legend, her name means "Flame of the West" and is significant in that, as the sword was reforged from an ancient weapon, so she continues the line of war-mares brought out of the desert.



Description: Anduril is a pale dappled silver mare with large dark eyes and silky black mane and tail. Her coat is mirror shiny with dense, feather soft hair. Her black hooves are hard as stone. She had a white stripe down her face as a youngster, but it is fading into the silver grey of her face as she ages, leaving a bit of pink on her nose. Her large expressive eyes drink in her surroundings, with long eyelashes and elegant black markings around the eyes. When excited by the chase or scouting ahead of the main party, her wide nostrils open like flower petals. Her ears are mobile and delicately pointed, a mirror of her thoughts. Her legs are solid and strongly muscled, her back exceptionally strong and coupled with her huge hindquarters, she is easily enough mount for the heaviest armored knight. She moves with amazing economy of motion, never a wasted step at any speed, saving her remarkable strength for the coming battle.



Training and experience: Anduril is an accomplished war-mare. In the stable, she is as gentle as a lamb with her handlers, but turns instantly into a dragon of fierce rage if irritated by disrespect or denial of her needs. Anduril is not the mare to use on a scouting expedition unless you are sure you will see action at the end. Her best use is either on a raiding party, where her blood-thirsty ways will greatly enhance your chances of returning home with great honors, or on the front lines of the main formation, where her unconquerable spirit will be an inspiration of the lesser beasts.

Anduril demands a knight equal to her own talents in battle, and will become angry and hard to control under an incompetent rider. She loves children and will gently care for them in the ring or on the trail, and she can be ridden by lesser riders on long journeys, but her competitiveness must be carefully managed by the herd-master to insure she doesn't cause undue trouble in camp and on the trail.

Elbereth (Beri)

While she's fully trained in the arts of war, Beri was, unfortunately, 'pet-raised' by a family with young children who doted on her. As a result, she tends to exhibit a rather fallible sense of humor at inappropriate moments.

Most unfortunately, the children kept treats in their pockets and Beri will constantly nudge and sniff anyone (peasant or king) standing near, even to the point of lipping and tugging at their clothing. She's also prone to search any packs and bags left in her reach, either digging at them with her hoof until the contents are scattered or by nipping the bag in her teeth and tossing her head. She'll go quietly for an unsteady rider, and is unflappable in most cases, but woe betide the seasoned warrior who gives her a moment of inattention. She's accustomed to voicing her opinions on issues that are primarily the riders decision.

Of prime concern to her is the speed of travel, she much prefers a high rate. If forced to travel too slowly, she'll hang her lower lip, droop her ears to the sides, lower her eyelids as if sleepy and slow her steps, dragging her toes and working in the occasional stumble. Her preferred pace is the gallop and she embraces the wind with great exuberance, athleticism and the occasional hop and buck worked in between strides.

If the rider chances to choose the 'wrong' trail (according to her infinite wisdom), she'll show her displeasure by slowing and finally coming to a sullen and immoveable halt.

Beri is changeable, as mares are prone to be, and is known by different names according to her mood. We have AngelBeri and EvilBeri and on occasions when she's being more like herself than usual, we recognize that she's being VeryBeri.

Suhayla

Her name is Suhayla.

She was born a warm chestnut but has slowly faded to her natural grey color with every year. She is now a silvery grey with chestnut freckles that hint at her first color. What used to be a pronounced blaze on her face has blended with the grey and can be faintly seen by those who know it used to be there. Long eyelashes and a pink nose highlite her feminity.

History
She comes from a long line of royal blood and was born to the royal stables. When still a foal, her mother was killed protecting her from an attack by a pack of wolves. Barely escaping with her life, she disappeared into a forest where she was discovered by a family. They adopted this stray, and hand raised her. They named her Suhayla, which means soft and flowing, because she appeared to float as she ran. But with the family having no other horses, she never learned to be a “horse”, and is more comfortable with human companionship than with others of her own kind. Several years later, her true owners finally found her, as they had never stopped searching for the last daughter of their favorite mare. While the family who raised her loved her greatly, they gave her up so she could follow her destiny serving in the royal stables. She now has found a home with a small band, but feels more comfortable living on the ‘fringe’ of the group, rather than really being part of it.

Personality
This unique history is reflected in her personality in many ways. She is independent and not ‘herd bound’. She is a leader, confident and brave like her mother. She has led many less mature horses on a great many journeys. Horrors that send other horses spinning and bolting in fear, she will blow past without hesitation. Her one fear though are dogs or wolves, which have haunted her dreams since the wolf attack.

She tends to be serious and practical. She likes to work, and doesn’t see the point in wasting energy on something with no purpose. This means when her herd is playing and galloping around their pasture, you’ll find her on the side calmly observing. Some will think that means she’s lazy, but given a job and a challenge, she’ll push forward with relish until its done. On a journey, she won’t be the fastest horse, but her great stamina will carry her farther and longer than the others.

She develops strong bonds with one person and will tend to only listen to them.

To ride her is like floating. Her trot is soft and easy, her canter is so smooth, it’s like being rocked to sleep.

For a rider, her independent nature can be good and bad. She can easily be ridden away from others toward another path. But she will also make her own decisions on the best way to go. This may result in her suddenly choosing a shortcut through the woods when the rider is cantering down a road or thru a mass of tree limbs. She has a strong sense of direction and can find her way back to camp or home very easily. Unfortunately, she may decide the best way back is across a ravine or through a thorny hedge.

Many Thanks to Cindy Stafford for allowing Zoey to be available as a Fantasy Horse in our stable.

Ninquelote

~ A mature mare, gentle but fierce when facing a foe.
Her name means "White Flower".

Description: Ninquelote is a glistening silver-white mare with large dark eyes. She has a snip of pink on her grey nose, but all four of her hoofs are black. She’s of average height, but great width. Her short back and wide loins give her the strength of a much larger horse and she is well able to carry a fully armored Hero into battle. Her broad base and solid weight helps to steady and brace a warrior fighting from her back with the lance or sword and she’s equally popular with archers for the same reason. Elves especially love a horse of this build since they often ride without saddles - her long, flowing stride give her soft gaits that in combination with her wide back make her an especially comfortable horse to ride.

Training and experience: She's trained for the use of edged weapons and battle ready, but steady enough to trust with the kids if you need to send them away to safety. She is an excellent choice in this because she won't be excitable or silly like a younger horse can tend to be in the midst of the excitement of an attack or the near-panic of a forced retreat. Her only real fault under saddle would be that she will sometimes question her rider's mental or emotional stability and if she feels such drastic inaction is needed will simply stop where she is and wait until the rider regains their senses.

Her greatest strength is that she truly loves traveling and seeing new places which makes her an enjoyable mount for a courier or anyone traveling long distances. While she has proven herself in battle and is an extraordinary choice as a war mare, you might think twice about risking her by riding her into battle, unless your very home depends on it, as she's an proven broodmare and has produced five extraordinary foals. As long as you have mares like this at home, you'll have a good source of future war-horses.

Ninquelote had a long and full life, but she is no longer with us. We're delighted to know she lives on through myriad stories and games and that she continues to enrich the lives of those she touches.