Full Gallop


Rowena hushed Madoc and drew him back around the corner of the house they had just passed.

"What is it?" he hissed.

"There's a black horse standing at the head of the lane yonder."

"So?"

"That lane leads to the graveyard."

Madoc's teeth flashed in the gloom of twilight. "So we're not the only ones roaming dark village streets. Someone's gone to rob a grave!"

Rowena shook her head. "No saddle, no bridle. This is not a thief's mount, ready and waiting for flight."

"A stray then. No need to be shying away into the shadows like this."

Rowena gulped. "This is no stray. It's a death horse. When it stands at the burying-lane, it's waiting for orders – whose soul to fetch. Someone in the village is soon to die."

"Ah! I've heard tell of the creature, but just as a tale to scare children." Madoc leaned around the corner, taking another look. "It is a rather large horse," he murmured. "And its eyes – are they glowing?"

Rowena wrapped arms around herself. "Well, there's no getting past it unless we want to go wide around and tramp over the fields. Though with the rain this morning, the ground would be all mucky."

"We can wait here." Madoc drew her close. "I'll keep you warm."

Rowena giggled and pushed him back. "Flirt! My friend Isolde lives just up the street. You haven't met her yet. Let's go pay her a visit."

As they walked away from the specter at the burying-lane, Madoc asked, "Have you seen the death-horse before?"

"Yes, two times. Once it set off walking, just ambling along to the house of Old Toreth the Sour – who poisoned her neighbors' dogs and cats. She lingered for days before the fever finally took her. Another time, the black horse trotted along in fits and starts, back and forth, and Old Man Garnock kept coming to death's door but then rallying. He never returned anything he borrowed, and spread the vilest rumors."

"Who do you think death might come for tonight?"

Rowena shrugged. "No idea. No one is sick, that I've heard of. "

A bugling cry shattered the quiet of the night, and a clatter of heavy hooves. Once more Rowena dragged Madoc into cover.

The great black horse pounded down the cobblestones, sparks flying from each strike of the hooves. A gale stinking of sulfur swirled in its wake, and Rowena gagged at the stench. Her eyes widened when she saw the fearsome beast halt in front of the grandest house on the lane.

Teithi the Tight-fisted, plague of the village. Teithi the greedy solicitor who had driven several local old folk to the poor-house when they couldn't pay their debts. Teithi the money-grubbing lawyer who had so abruptly shouldered his way into local affairs these last few weeks.

"A full-blown gallop," Madoc gasped. "What does that portend?"

Rowena's lips stretched thin at the justice of it. "Sudden death."


folktale from southern Wales

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