By the time she led him out of the sale barn, Stacy's proud warrior steed was renamed Chevalier.  It was her job to lead him up the hill to the farm.  That wasn't as easy as it sounded.  Though he was willing enough to be led by a man, Chevalier had no particular respect for a fifteen year old girl.  There was lush grass in the gully between the fence and the county road and that was where he went, pulling his little human pest along effortlessly.  Half an hour later he had moved a few feet up the hill, eating his head off.  Stacy had called him every name she knew and had used a few tricks to try and get him to follow her.  She wouldn't hit or kick him though.  If he was going to be her warrior steed they had to trust each other.
     She squatted down, blew gently into his nostrils and talked to him.  "Chevalier my friend, you and I are going to have adventures together.  You're finally going to get a chance to express your wild warrior spirit.  You're going to learn to fight and then we're going to go out and smite evildoers.  The whole high school will be thankful for your brave and righteous heart."
     Going after a sweeter-looking clump of grass, Chevalier stepped near the rail fence.  Stacy immediately climbed it and then hoisted herself from there onto the horse's back.  She was amazingly high up and it was like straddling a small Volkswagen.  He raised his head and looked back at her in surprise.
     "Git up," she said, urging him with her heels and leaning forward as though she were on a racing thoroughbred.  She still had the lead rope in her hand but only to keep him from stepping on it; she didn't know how to make a lead rope serve as reins.
     Unexpectedly, the big horse started walking.  He walked up out of the gully, nearly dumping her off his smooth back, and then started up the long hill at a rather alarming pace.  Stacy wasn't sure what she had done to get him to go, until she looked ahead and saw her father walking down the hill, shaking some corn in a shallow tub.

     They managed to find a bridle big enough, and her father altered a saddle so it would fit Chevalier's enormous girth.  Stacy did a lot of  riding in the next few weeks.  She would take Chevalier out first thing in the morning, carrying her lunch, and not come back till chore time in the afternoon.  She had found a nice little unused clearing in Russ Linderbergen's woods so no one would see her trying to attack-train her horse.  Chevalier did seem to pay attention sometimes, since the grass wasn't very good there and he didn't have much else to do that was interesting.  He seemed to be starting to enjoy her company although he did occasionally bite her.  But he wasn't a very apt student.  She set up a scarecrow with a pony tail and tried to get him to kick it, but he didn't seem to understand what she wanted.  He would back up to her scarecrow (after she checked with her father and found out the signal that made him back up).  But he wouldn't kick, and as soon as he felt the scarecrow against his butt he wouldn't keep backing up to knock it over.  One time he pooped on it, but she knew she couldn't get him to do that on command.
     He was a good horse.  Most of the time he would go where she wanted him to go, and with some urging she could get him to trot.  He wasn't fast, but at least he wasn't skittish.  One time when they were going down the county road they were passed by a big, noisy cement mixer truck.  Chevalier snorted and shook his head but he didn't shy.  Stacy enjoyed the fact that she could look down at the driver, who was staring drop-jawed at her gigantic steed.
     Her friends Ed and George kept her up to date on things at school, and the news wasn't good.  Nick, Roger, Murph and Will (which was what the fourth boy's name turned out to be) were up to their old nasty tricks, except that they didn't bother any more girls.  The Lunch Club raised its rates.

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