The sky was dark, but the moon shone down. It was a lovely night for a ride. I told him so, calling the horse, Timothy, and he replied, “Any night I am with you would be an enchanted night, my darling.”
He broke into a faster walk. It had a rocking motion. I didn’t feel unsafe on his back. I felt secure, even though I clung to his mane, just in case. At one point he insisted that I let go, raise my arms into the air, and shout out, “I love you, Timothy.”
It was no more than a silly dream, so I did. But then I was suddenly back in my bed, snug under my blankets. The room was dark, and I realized that I’d only been dreaming. In a way, I was disappointed, but I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. I don’t think I dreamed anything else that night.
Timothy
It is said that to entice a young maiden one must offer her a ride. My research on Penelope told me that she was probably not a maiden, due the hardhearted idiot who’d maltreated her, but the principle should be the same.
Touch was a key component of knowing, and a gentle ride through the countryside was hopefully an inducement for enhanced feelings toward me. I didn’t want her magicked, but a little help from the power of the pooka couldn’t hurt.
As I’d known it would be, our journey together was exquisite. I could feel her body shifting as my muscles moved us forward. Her seat was poor and more than once I had to swing myself to the right or left, but a pooka knows its rider, whether they are a fated one or not. “No rider ever comes to harm on a pooka ride, my father had told me long ago.”
Back then, when Andrew and I were just kids, my best friend had begged me to take him on a midnight ride, and I had. He said the aftereffects of that ride was what convinced him to give his pledge to me. I suppose it could be true, but Andrew then was a mere slave boy, stolen away from his tribe. What I offered him in exchange for his long term friendship was a life of an unknown length and a chance to be free. Of course, he chose to join me and stay by my side.
After I bit him, I did try to free him, but there were no papers stating such a fact during that era, and no one could read anyway. By custom, most villagers accepted me at my word and despite the darkness of his skin, the people treated Andrew as an equal.