Stealing horses is stealing power, said the rider denying to hand the reins of his black steed to the young boy, showing the esteem in which betokened the mighty animal. The poor groom did not dare to face his Lord, Guy of Gisborne, but his tongue was faster than the disapproval of his mind.
—My Lord, let me take care of your horse, a gentleman should not concern itself with such service.
The look of the rider crossed his soul like sharp blade, stunning the weak mind of the poor boy. If it had more spirit would have run, but he was slow. Stumbled awkwardly on his own feet, falling to the ground with a loud noise. Were his Lord another man, would have broken into a great laugh, and a bond of fraternal friendship would be established between the two men. Vain hopes, he said to himself, Guy of Gisborne, had a face like thunder and never smiled, unless he was with Lady Marian. The memory of the beautiful maiden made him insolent and he glanced to his Lord.
Indifferent, trapped in his own world, the knight spoke with the animal or himself, he could not tell. While he was slowly brushing the horse and oblivious to everything, he was whispering: —Powerful horse. That has the power to run through the vast plains shortening distances, uniting people, discovering worlds. Bring me also the foresight, the vision of own soul. The ability to perceive reality in a higher and broader level. Show me how to access the inner power, the power to enhance and clarify areas of the mind which are foggy. Deliver me this great weight oppressing my breast. Make me light and agile. Make me free.
Was Guy of Gisborne thinking of Maid Marian? The animal’s hooves hitting on the ground brought the reality. The reality is that if Guy realized his comic presence, he would not live another day. And this thought made he choose even further down, paralyzing him. As if sensing the fear of the groom, the mighty steed moved on the same hiding the poor guy with his body.
It seemed that the animal knew his rider still possessed the soul of an untamed steed and, thus, had little tolerance for anything or anyone that would limit their freedom of expression or invade your personal space. A strong kick or a steep front paw would be the result and the groom would be like a straw on the floor. Better not, the animal seemed to say. And to avoid the evil, the horse shook his head slowly against the body of its rider, gently calling your attention. He smiled and absently stroked its mane.
Soon, the young man realized that the black horse had an unconditional love to his rider. There was a genuine friendship between the two, a real camaraderie would born of shared silence, broken only by the sound of a slow trot against the hard floor. A loyalty would born of the various obstacles overcome together. They had lived and seen things that they shared only among themselves.
Then, as if reading his thoughts, Guy whispered: Yes, that’s the truth. And rode swiftly on the back of the black steed. Slight wind gives me wings, carries me from this world on its back. Take me away, where there is neither good nor evil. Teach me the strength and perseverance, the consciousness of real power, the inner power. Help me to overcome distances, to go further where my eyes never rested, but my soul saw. Take me to the heart of Maid Marian.
A sigh came out of the boy’s chest.
— Dead, never kissed any girls, and now I will be dead! The neighing of the horse seemed a great laugh. And the hair of his tail hit like a whip to his face, as if to say, Thou fool, awakens from his delirium. There is an entire power available to you as well. You will die neither today nor tomorrow! There is still much to learn! Then the black horse shot out the door, who was the horse, who was the rider, the groom did not know. It was just a black blur, in a fierce gallop cutting the plain, kicking up dust, toward their destinations.