Dear Philip
DEAR PHILIP
It pertained to my usual duties to entertain my mistress' friends and see to their well-being. One was a very muscular and brute creature named Benera. She was a Clydesdale, and not remarkably friendly toward myself despite the gentleness the rest of her breed shared. Nonetheless, she was well groomed and kept her opinions neutral. The feathering by her wrists and hind legs wavered softly like fluffy goose down popping out of a well beaten pillow.
Another lady, a Miss. Sinclair, a snow-white Percheron with a tiny tuft of tail and a constant cheerful smile, had taken the armchair closest to the fireplace in this old, not quite drafty but close, Victorian styled room. As she was the guest of honor, she had received the most comfortable seat by default.
Another, Nettie, was a little palomino pony. She was very nervous, shy, indrawn toward herself. Nettie barely spoke or ever put even a few words together. She would only speak if she felt her opinion needed to be known. She was a Shetland, and indeed, though she mentioned little, her wry sense of cleverness was known as legendary among this mare hierarchy in the softly lit parlor. Nettie kept her arms and legs close to herself, perhaps for fear they may be chewed off by an invisible wolf. She was always tense and never seemed to rest at all, always looking about with eyes and ears every waking moment.
The last mistress was a very bored lady who was lying on a couch to the corner of the room, farthest from the fire, of course, cold wouldn't bother a sweet Icelandic such as her. She was on her side, and had her long black tail shimmering over the right side of her hip, draped in front of her crotch in an elegant marelike way. Stallions never did this because they enjoyed showing off their assets. Of course, for geldings, it depended on their personality what they chose to do with their tail in this position. Were it a gelding who had been neutered after stallionhood, he would still likely opt to show off, which was a large bulge in his trousers due to his sheath. One had to be well practiced in noting the subtle differences in physiology. The fine bones, the muscle structure, a more effeminate squeal, that sort of thing.
Now, normally one could tell the difference by seating posture, for a gelding would have his tail dropped over his crotch to, like mares, portray sexual disinterest, or as a way to hide shame. Either method was socially acceptable.
Now, I was to entertain these mare ladies until Aria, another mare, could arrive. My service as servant spanned from retrieving tea, to high spirits port. From a few choice bits of info, or a full-blown sophisticated debate. (no yelling, of course). These were very versed ladies who need not yell to get a point across, and never rushed a debater. It was these seldom times they had been impressed with my dry, sardonic wit.
The Icelandic, a Miss Caroline, was indulging herself with a vine of crisp, waterlogged, seedy wine grapes, a bit too sour for the human tongue, but she seemed not to make a distinction in taste. I imagine lady Caroline would eat anything growing on a tree. As it was, this became one of those times where they craved intellectual challenge like hungry foals to the teat.
"So, tell me, why is it that we are left to amuse ourselves with a sirrah? A charming sirrah, but a sirrah nonetheless." Replied lady Sinclair, who was not used to the ley and activities of this gathering.
"Aria is not married, so she has no husband to busy us. Instead, she sends her servant. Oh, I do assure you, that sirrah is a levelheaded sort. Not hotheaded like an imbecile, nor underhanded like a pervert. And by which, have I told you about how my servant, Terry, has been up to late last night? Daresay, it was not fashionable for even a human to delve into a stallions' business. Oh, yes, I spied THAT cretin all too well! Can you imagine? A human playing with himself like a stallion! Imagine that! A human!" Caroline replied, struck between amusement and mild shock.
The other ladies were also somewhat surprised by this, and a few gasps were uttered. I myself was not surprised by this confession. I'd heard of other servants getting their jolly's by imitating the erotic exploits of their equine guardians.
"I am afraid, ladies, that is no news at all. Humans have been at that wonton silliness since the days of the Greeks and child molestation. Please, my lady Caroline. Perhaps you should mention why you always spend at least three hours a day taking a bath." I replied, shrugging with indifference.
Miss Caroline blushed quite hotly, even visible by fire light.
"Touché, Philip."
The others gave coy giggles unladylike chuckling snorts.
"My! What a poet! And he certainly put you in YOUR place!" Exclaimed Benera, with a slight smirk on her muzzle.
"Ah, and now dear Philip takes the floor. I see now why you have such a fervor for his company. He entertains well enough to make me cease to care about stallion discourse." Replies lady Sinclair with a wolfish smile.
"Ladies, perhaps I should relate to you the common issue of that most controversial splendor, the great Arturo Mendes?"
Philip smiled at the reaction he caused. By the mere mention of that Fabio-like stallion, all the mares showed calf-eyed interest.
"What I don't understand is why he is found to be so scandalous. Is it his primitive courting rituals? That loud exuberant baying and energetic horsing? Or is it something more to do with his artwork?"
For awhile, the mares were blushing with long sighs of ecstasy at each of their personal fantasies likely involving this Arturo. Caroline was the hottest red. It was obvious now, what she'd dreamed about in the bath.
"A little bit of both...I think..." Replied Nettie uncertainly, speaking for the first time that evening.
Everyone took immediate notice.
"Well, continue on, then." Sinclair prompted gently.
Nettie carelessly shook her mane and snorted.
"I suppose...would it not be like those middle eastern bordellos?" She enquired tentatively.
Benera nodded, realization flooding her senses.
"Ah! She means those harems where a man keeps all his wives. In a way, I suppose Arturo DOES have a harem. He's loose enough and has fame enough to attract nearly any female to his bed, not to mention any twenty in his house at any given time." Benera mused.
Caroline whinnied delightfully.
"Oh I wish I were his mistress. I would never ask lady Pegasus for another favor ever again!" She replied coyly, batting lashes behind a paper fan.
"What, an old bag of horseflesh as yourself, who is not even fit for the knackers, much less Arturo's attentions?" Asked Benera, incredulous.
Caroline was flustered.
"Well, I would have you know I was the most flexible thing only twenty years ago! Why, I could still twist around his waist like his own personal belt!" She exclaimed indignant.
I smiled.
No one had their attention on me, so this would be a good opportunity to play a slight trick. Now, I knew Arturo, not personally, but through Aria's circles, so I knew what he sounded like and had been training my voice absolutely to that same tenor with the elegant O's and P's too frivolous for average speech. Now, I took my supposed leave, but was actually going to be just outside in the hallway playing with their heads.
"Milady Aria, ought you tell me of your guests? I would dreadfully love to meet them." I stated.
"No? milady Aria, you really should share. There's certainly enough Arturo for everyone." I muse with a wicked smile.
I heard a mad scramble as furniture toppled and loud hoof beats clicked on the hardwood floor. Three satin nared muzzles poked out with a number of pairs of eyes searching the hall for even the slightest sign.
"Aria! Where are you! You must share your friend with us!" Screamed Caroline, who was wild-eyed and panicked.
I smile, spreading my arms warmly.
"Be still, M'ladies, there is no Arturo, but plenty of Philip for everyone." I jibe in that same long-sought voice.
Sinclair was dumb-founded, Benera indifferent, but Caroline-Caroline! She was pissed! She ran forward in a fit of rage as I attempted to dodge for cover. Caroline had me by my tux collar.
"Oh, no, you do NOT. You little naughty jester. A ripe flogging is what you rightly deserve!"
Now I was certainly afraid. A horse whipping someone else's servant was not uncommon, so long as it didn't detract from appearance. Caroline dragged me back to the room where the other three were patiently waiting.
"This one has played with our emotions, made us fools to our passion, and all in jest. I say to you, might I flog the little hyena?" Asked Caroline.
Nettie spoke up, skepticism on her features.
"And you would carry this out? You, a civilized, pacifist lady mare?" The nervous Shetland asks.
"Perhaps not, but ladies have done less fashionable things." Caroline mused.
Benera smiled, "Ah, I have a fitting idea. Since he has played with our passion, let us play with his, or rather, deprive him of it." The Clydesdale replied.
Miss Sinclair frowned, "You do not mean...altering one of Pegasus creatures?" She asked, horrified.
"Hmmm?...why not? We need to take some of that bite out of him anyway." Caroline declared.
Benera shrugged her great withers, "Bah! You're just a little hot from his insult upon you previously this evening."
Caroline crossed her arms, "So I am. Ah, but what does it matter? I think he could stand to lose a ball or two." She said.
Sinclair frowned, "Wait, he is Aria's prize stud. We have not the tenacity to this!" Sinclair demands.
Caroline smiled with irony.
'If we told a court he raped all of us, it would be out of Aria's control." She mused.
I was dreadfully shocked. I had forgotten equines had this much influence, much less that they'd actually be willing to use it.
"Oh! Lady Pegasus, but I do believe you have him quite spooked!" Replied Sinclair.
Caroline looked down upon me, frowning.
"Well, so I do. Oh, a pity on his soul! I only meant to toy with him some."
I looked up uncertainly.
"You-won't...do it...???" I was so clearly confused.
Caroline crouched down and embraced me to her marish chest.
"Of course not. That would be dreadfully ungrateful of me after the countless hours you have kept us amused. I won't do it. Absolutely will NOT. To you, I swear it. But...well, you know, it is not proper to fool us in such a manner."
"No,' I admitted sheepishly, 'I suppose it was rather naught of me."
Sinclair gave a dry chuckle, "Indeed! And how well no blood will be spilled on my count nor no others'. It would not be proper for any civilized lady to do such to an undeserving and very-uh-charitable creature."
Well! So my amusements' were appreciated after all!
"From now on, I shall obey whatever you say of me."
"Nonsense!" Replied Sinclair, casting about for agreement. She found it in Nettie.
"Why yes, for such an odd creature, we have had some merry old fun, aye ladies?"
"Nay." Replied Benera.
"Who says nay?" Nettie enquired.
"I, Benera does." The Clydesdale answered.
"Oh bother! Nay is for foolish horses and ne'er do'els! Since I recall you as neither, I am curious as to your condition." The Shetland mused, as if to herself.
"I am neither a fool nag nor a hypocrite, so you may say I am a bigot." Benera proclaimed.
All three sets of jade ears fall upon her at once in curious response. Curiosity impassioned them all.
"Pray tell, what could that omission entail? Do you mean to say you hate sirrah's as blindly as a carthorse wearing those dreadful blinkers?" Caroline asked.
Benera smiled, suddenly inspired by some thought or revelation.
"Why, I do believe so! But my fury is not so blind, I assure you. I seem to be focused in my anger towards one thing; little smart-assed men. Dull imbecilic creatures strike my fancy, as it were, but jesters and clowns enrage me somewhat. I do not know why. I suppose I am no clown's patsy. Yes, that is it; I hate to be the victim of some comedic parody or joke or worse; a riddle or some parable!" Benera proclaimed.
Sinclair frowns, "My, where ought is that sense of humor of yours?"
Benera shrugs, "Why, I don't believe I was born with one."
"Horse feathers! Surely you must have..." a sudden interesting thought came across the Percheron's complexion. "Unless a blister beetle crawled up your tush and died!"
Benera looked her up, full on, "What blatant upstaging! What disregard! That is a most loathsome thing to say!" Benera exclaimed.
Caroline chuckled throatily, "Serves you right, you old nag."
Just at that moment, Aria moved herself with elegant fluidity and ease, right into the parlor with unparted company. A stunning bay beauty.
"Who is this who speaks of old nags and such?" Aria the bay thoroughbred announced.
She carried on one arm a tray laden with small glasses filled half way with black cherry brandy. Aria passed around the four glasses, which were received with a slight nod of gratitude from each of the mares. Now, I knew since there were five drinks and five conversants, this was likely my subtle dismissal. However, upon reaching the doorway, Aria called out to me.
"And where love, daresay, might you be sneaking off to?" Came her voice from behind the leather high-backed armchair. I stop in my tracks as I spy the tips of her ears pivot in my direction.
"I did not receive a cup. I assumed I was dismissed." I replied simply.
"Oh bother! Bother everything! If it is a drink you want, help yourself to the rocks and port. At any rate, make your rump cozy at the fire, sirrah. We have some merriment to share. I wouldn't be so unfestive as to leave you alone or dull; lacking entertainment." Aria commands.
"Oh, no ma'am. You are here. My use has ended in these matters. The talk of a sirrah is as intellectually stimulating as listening to a baked potato. I wish to take my leave of you." I spoke coyly, giving a curt bow.
"Nonsense! You give your kind too little credit. If need be, you can give amusement yet! And as for potatoes and such, I know as many humans as horses who likely share the intelligence of such a plant. Now, no more debate, I am your guardian, and I'm certain most of us want your company,' then at the last bit, she teased him, 'Lord Arturo!' Now, sit, sit!"
At that prompting, I sat bemuse on a rug in front f the fireplace.
Sinclair laughed heartily, "Ah, so have heard our diminutive Fabio." The Percheron mused.
"I have indeed. An ell of gold to your pain, ladies. It must have been dreadful to have been tricked by a third-rate tease such as my servant!" Aria giggled out.
"Truly, but you appear to laugh at our wounds." Benera pointed out.
"Now do I? Well, then I am sorry for that. Truly, I do apologize, but you prurient ewes had it coming!" would you honestly think Arturo cares to see me? I have some looks and cash, but daresay, so do you and many other foolish lambs. It would be that royal lineage that draws him near my grasp. Alas! He wants young pretty fillies with bigger breasts than brains or supremely rich old fools that look like kindling." Aria shook her head in disgust, "No ladies, you do not want that one. I'd much prefer my bashful fellow over there by the fire." Aria declared, "Besides, he has such splendid eyes."
Lady Sinclair frowned, "Why, however do you mean?" The Percheron inquired, gazing curiously into my face. "Is it the color? Or the pupil uniqueness?" Sinclair mused.
"Not at all. It is this; he has repeatedly been able to hit those skeet disks. You know, you shoot at those clay Frisbee things with a gun. Not my cup of tea, but it is certainly fun to watch. He is very good at it. I could well imagine him defeating an equine expert of such a pursuit." Aria said.
This inspired their curiosity.
"Perhaps you speak too highly of your slave. I doubt a human knows how to handle a twelve-gauge." Benera pointed out venomously.
I quivered somewhat, Aria frowning with displeasure.
"I don't care what you think he's capable of, but in my house, we do not refer to him as some lowly slave. He is sirrah, servant, sometimes some cute animal name, but never NEVER! Slave." Aria growled contemptuously.
"Forgive me." Benera amended. She did not sound sincere.
Aria shrugged, "At any rate, a demonstration is likely in order, else you might also disrespect me in my own house. Love, stand at that doorway and unholster your piece." Aria prompts.
By that order, I stood and did as she asked, removing a sleek long-barreled pistol from my coat. It was a single-shot target pistol with Aria's coat of arms gilded neatly in gold upon the sides. The stance was awkward, as I held it in my right hand, but aimed with the left eye the lady mares gasped with surprised shock.
"Whatever is the meaning of this?" A bewildered Caroline stammered.
"What is that?" Aria asked, confused.
"Sirrahs have no right to bear arms!" Spoke Sinclair.
Aria sighed, exasperated, "The law has some exclusions to royalty. I, after all, have a reputation at stake if my faith is wrong. Now, dear, show them what your talent is." Aria prodded.
She cracked the picture window open and balanced a thimble on the nail of her thumb. It was a good thirty feet. I waited a moment, calculating, and then slowly, gentle as a lamb, depressed that silver gilded trigger. A forty-five caliber round whistled through the air, struck the thimble top, and exited the opened window. There was no loud report, only a hiss like compressed steam from a kettle. The pistol had a built in silencer, handy if your friends did not much care for gunfire. At any rate, they applauded the performance enthusiastically with dainty claps.
"Good show, lad. I don't imagine you are here only to look pretty." Sinclair mused.
Caroline nodded lightly, giving a soft tap on the floor with a hoof to receive attention, "Ah, you are quite right. Our handsome little friend is a sophisticated part of the security. You might say, a bodyguard." Caroline said.
They took pity on Miss. Sinclair, who seemed already to have had her world turned upside-down a number of times. It did not seem possible she could be any further in disarray. Nevertheless, she had a fine habit of recovering her head in a flurry of haste.
"My, I do not know whether to be grateful or afraid of such a specialist being present." Sinclair mused with a wry sneer.
"I would be grateful. It helps to pass the time fawning over a cute little warrior." Caroline replied with a naught grin.
"Hmmm. Indeed?...indeed! that DOES make the most sense of anything I've ever heard tonight. Why, I could just imagine such a fine little critter beating back the stray cretins with a stick as we hike up gowns and make a jolly sprint for safety. One does, after all, catch word of those savage escapees who rove in groups and mug indiscriminately with a violence to match their number, not to be mentioned, greed as well." Sinclair explained, with an approving wink in my direction, making me blush and jitter somewhat from the attentions.
A sudden thought seemed to overtake Caroline, "Now that you mention it, does he show those signs of greed?" Asked the Icelandic mare.
"Not at all." Replied Aria, with a slight chuckle, "Avarice or no, he has no need to steal from anyone. I can give him anything he wants save one thing." Aria replied.
She waited, gaining amusement from the unfed curiosity.
"Well, what can he not own, that a wealthy duchess cannot buy?" Sinclair enquired with a frown.
Nettie bowed sadly, "He was young then, but he was caught a wild. The only thing he wants, he cannot have; his liberty." Nettie offered.
Caroline gave a sardonic snort, "Well, that proved nothing towards his character. One cannot very well steal freedom." She replied.
"Yes, and at any rate, how do we gauge the character of beings which are so secretive, sly, and manipulative?" Inquired Benera.
Aria snorted gustily, "Because lady Caroline, Benera, that is what faith is all about. I do not rule this household in fear, and before you say so as well, remember that your favorites, Terry, and Vernon wish not ever to be by you, could they help it. One does not wish to have the personal wrath of their 'god' visited down upon them." Aria spoke icily.
"Yes? Well, what about Nettie and Miss Sinclair?! Are they exempt?" Caroline protests.
"Not at all, but if you'll note, Nettie's Maurice is much put off and confused by his guardians' uncertainty. He is a good boy, that Maurice. At the least, he doesn't take advantage of her inability to make a decision, nor play any cruel tricks upon her like her owners in a previous life. Human children, can sometimes be quite vicious. Little sadists when they have the right temperament. Why, poor Nettie is utterly wrecked by their mean-spirited play. And well, as my friend Gene once pointed out rather dryly one day, it was good these wicked boys who took to tying cans to her tail and hickory branches did not survive that war to today, else they would have a terrible turn when Nettie herself each of them their due orchioectomy-without pain relief measures." Aria mused.
A large breeze of snow-laden air whipped through the slightly open window. Aria shot up like an arrow loosed, closing it hastily as flakes melted on the floor and rugs.
"Goodness! Just like Hades out there!" Spoke Sinclair with a fright, "Well, at any rate, what is orchi-uh-that term you used?" She continued.
Aria smiled.
"It's medical, but I don't think it's proper terminology. My friend Gene, she's a gray Welsh, by the way, told me of such things."
"Is this the Gene who lectures at the Veterinary college in Coldtree?" Caroline asks.
"The very same, but anyway, she said ectomy is removal of, and orchi are testicles, so in laments terms this bespeaks our castration policies. Now, for those of you who don't know, there are two types of castrated humans. The first, Eunuchs, were castrated before puberty, and the second group, Geldings, or proud cuts, were castrated after, so they retain most of their libido, but the aggression is for the most part favorably curtailed" Aria elaborated.
"Like I said,' replied Sinclair with a defiant snort, 'I don't like it when someone alters Pegasus' creatures, and for your information, I too, have a servant who is at stud. He is Frederix, and he has respect of me but no fear. But-lady Aria, why does Philip defer to your wishes? I've no idea how you rule the house." Sinclair prompted.
Aria chuckled, a distant haunted sound.
"That...is a very old story. Old and long. Ten years ago, our forces in the last war had been clearing out the few remaining pockets of the resistance. Unfortunately, my squad had to call for pick-up because he shot us up and made us crash on a nearby planet. He was drawn in by strong gravity and also crashed. We captured him and I took him as my sirrah. Now, we've always had our differences, and Nettie took to naming him 'Tobias'." Aria paused, waiting for an answer.
Sinclair frowned, "Hmmm...if my old English serves, is that 'the wild one' in our translation?" She asked.
Aria nods, "Yes, that used to be what we called him. However, despite old prejudices, he gained an...appreciation for our kind. It was this time when I decided a change of name was appropriate. Do any of you know what 'Philip' means?" Aria mused.
Caroline smiled wryly, "I see. So that's the story. 'Philip'; a lover of horses." She supplied.
Aria grinned, "Exactly. And we are quite the comely bunch, are we not?"