Decades of training prepared the knight for anything.

At least, when it came to self-control in the face of terror.

The weight eased, drawing back. Hooves scuffed as the stallion circled, slow, deliberate, keeping close to his hindquarters.

Macius turned his ears, following the sound he could not see.

To lose sight of a rival was folly.

To show his flank in battle was madness.

Yet, to whirl now would be worse.

He stood as stone, waiting for a blow that did not come.

Suddenly, teeth snapped lightly at his rump, sharp enough to sting but not to wound.

Macius lurched forward a pace, heart hammering.

No jest... a warning: yield, or worse follows. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stop, to stand.

The ground shook as the stallion reared. For a heartbeat Macius thought **** was on him — hooves flailing, weight crashing down. But no strike fell.

Macius stood rigid, lungs burning. Was this still testing, or some trial he could not fathom?

Instead the forelegs brushed his sides and withdrew, the stallion dropping back with a grunt, ears forward, eyes dark.

No strike came. No charge. Only presence, heavy as iron.

Macius stood shaking, breath ragged, hide slick with sweat. There was no mistaking it. He had been driven down, pressed into place. Rival? No. Beta. The warhorse turned, slow and sure, and began to graze again — but close, always close, as though he had tethered Macius without rope. Macius ground his teeth. Knights yielded to no man, no beast. Yet the truth burned in his chest and mind. If he stayed, he'd be protected for a while, then driven out anyway. And whatever happened, he would be submissive to the larger creature.

He felt... angry.

Humiliated.

He lowered his head to the water again, forcing down another mouthful, though his throat was tight. The stallion’s shadow stayed close, silent, grazing.

Protection, for now. Subjugation, without doubt.

Macius spat the water back, bitter. This was no duel, no trial of arms. It was theft — of place, of honor. And he would endure it, because knights endured all things. But anger burned hotter than thirst, and humiliation heavier than armor.