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Steede ~ Black Stallion. Artimus’ Familiar
Breed: American Saddlebred
Color: Black
Description:
Stands 16 hands high. Black coat, mane and tail. Wide-set expressive eyes,
gracefully shaped ears set close together. A long, neck, fine clean
throatlatch, arched and well-flexed at the poll. Well defined withers,
deep sloping shoulders, well ribbed with a strong, level back. Straight
legs with broad flat bones, well defined tendons and sloping pasterns.
Quite a beautiful (and a bit vain) animal.
Quirks:
Very opinionated. Will say exactly what he thinks and likes to give
Artimus a lot of unwanted advice because he has “horse sense," something
humans are sadly lacking. Doesn’t quite understand human interactions, but
that doesn’t stop him from commenting on them anyway.
History:
Artimus acquired Steede when he was forty years old and hunting small game
on foot in Montana. The horse was about to be killed by his owner, Dungus
McGee, who was fed up with the animal.
After three years acting like an ordinary horse, Steede talked to the man
one day, and McGee thought to get rich off him. But the other, older,
wiser animals on the farm where he lived told the horse that if ordinary
men learned he could speak their language, he would be taken away and
never seen again.
So McGee spent a lot of money advertising his talking horse, his fellow
breeders all scoffing at the man. Steede told McGee his fears of what
would happen to him and McGee told him not to worry about it, but Steede
didn’t trust him.
When the big moment arrived and thousands of people sat expectantly in the
enormous big top McGee had raised on his land, each paying ten dollars to
see this “Talking Horse” Steede was led out into the center ring. Large
monitors were erected so everyone could see him and McGee up close and
microphones were all around as well as several scientists who reluctantly
agreed to verify the truth of the matter.
Steede was completely scared to death at being the center of attention,
all the humans staring at him. When Dungus asked him his name, he couldn’t
answer.
He had stage fright.
McGee tried and tried, but all he could get out of Steede was a whinny or
two. The crowd nearly rioted and not only did McGee have to give back the
money, take the scorn of the scientists and his fellow breeders, he lost
his reputation completely. Angered, the next day he hooked up the horse
trailer to his truck and took Steede out to the farthest reaches of his
land, along with his rifle, axe, bone cutters and sharpest knives.
He said nothing to the horse of his displeasure, although Steede
apologized to him as soon as he found his voice.
Artimus had been hunting rabbits and had a good little amount of them when
he saw Steede tied to a post, rearing and bucking wildly as McGee set up
shop to slaughter him, telling the horse he was going to sell his meat to
the butcher for dog food and send his bones and tendons to the glue
factory.
Artimus might not have interfered except that the horse was screaming for
help in English.
Artimus ran up and stopped the angry breeder, offering to purchase the
horse from him as foam covered the flanks of the frightened animal. But
McGee wanted Steede dead and wouldn’t see reason. So, Artimus hit him out
of desperation as he was training the gun on Steede, knocking him down and
freeing the horse.
”Jump on!” Steede cried and Artimus grabbed his mane and swung up on the
stallion, riding low as he galloped away from McGee, who enraged, fired
shot after shot after them, not caring if he hit human or animal. Artimus
directed him to head for a close river where he had dug a small depression
with a kind of canal that led to it. When the river rose it would make a
puddle that could be used to return to the magical realm.
It was late in the evening, and, pursued by McGee in his truck sans horse
trailer, it was a race for the pair to reach the river by sunset. Steede
knew nothing about puddles and began to slow as they approached the river,
which was rather deep. A shimmer started to form over the standing water.
”Keep going!” Artimus yelled at Steede.
“But the river! I don’t know if I can swim!” Steede cried back, nearly
exhausted.
“You won’t touch the river. I’m with you . . . run through the shimmer. If
you don’t, you’ll be dead for sure!” Artimus yelled over his stampeding
hooves.
Steede was afraid but decided to trust the man on his back, and fighting
his fear charged at the shimmer before the river and through it,
disappearing immediately. Dungus McGee got out of his truck, rifle in hand
and looked about, scratching his head. The hoofprints stopped at the
puddle and there was nothing thrashing in the river.
Damn it.
McGee returned home angry, but knew better than to tell anyone what he’d
witnessed. He was already laughingstock enough.
Artimus lost a whole lot of rabbits, plus a shotgun, but gained a staunch
friend, ally and companion. As well as a bit of a nag.
They'd been together ever since.
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