Desmond and Debra

Hello my faithful followers.  I heartily appreciate the fact that you stick with me through thick and thin, when I'm lazy and when I force feed every silly piece of my writing to you.  I have been quite distracted by my recently borrowed Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.  Which I might add is now among my top favorite books, along with The Lightning Thief, Pride and Prejudice, The Tutor's Daughter, and much more.  Many thanks to my friends Johanna and Zack for introducing me to the world of Sherlock, but also to my friend Brian and Pinterest in general for arousing my interest in BBC's Sherlock, without which I would never have given Sherlock a second glance.
 ANYWAY.  Getting a little off track here.  Tomorrow is Talk Like Jane Austen Day, and I would strongly recommend Austen's two finest works, Pride and Prejudice and Emma, in preparation.  I should throw a Victorian-style ball that day.
MOVING ON.  This is not Current Events. :P
As per my usual routine, I have written a bit based on the following writing prompt:
 Write a story that ends with the following sentence: Debra brushed the sand from her blouse, took a last, wistful look at the horse, and stepped into the hot-air balloon.
Sounds interesting and random enough, don't you think?

"It is the silliest thing to ask," Princess Debra said quietly, sidling up to me, "but please do not refuse me.  Will you swear to not refuse me?"  I gulped.  I had never been so close to the Princess before.  "I...I swear, my lady," I managed, curtseying.  What else could I do?  She smiled benevolently at me.  "There's a good girl.  Now, you must swear to not breathe a word of this to anyone." My eyes widened.  The Princess was known for a being a bit reckless, but I never imagined this.  "Good girl.  Now go and fetch him!" I curtseyed again and stumbled away.  At the door of the stables the horse master met me.  "Ho, there, where are you off to in such a bumbling hurry?" he exclaimed, and I nearly fainted.  "Oh - um - the- the Princess - she asked me to - um - do something for her." He stepped aside and let me pass, probably thinking my rush was childish delight in running an errand for a princess.  
I stood nervously at the door of the stall which contained the biggest horse I had ever laid eyes on. 
Desmond was magnificent, sand-colored, and terrifying.  
His very head might have been half the size of me.  He was as tall as two horse masters.  His gigantic hooves struck the ground and the sound vibrated through the stone stall and made me nearly jump.  His intelligent eyes rolled down to look at me.  I tried not to whimper.
I had to pull myself together.  The huge stallion could smell my fear and was enjoying it.  He tossed his great head, his luxurious mane rippling through the air.  My jaw dropped, but I quickly closed it.  The beautiful beast would not intimidate me.  I had lived with horses for years.  I knew how to work with them.  The only problem was, all of the horses I'd worked with were at least two sizes smaller than Desmond.
Gathering my courage, I produced his stall's heavy key from the ring on my belt and slowly turned it in the lock.  "Hey, Des," I said in a scratchy voice.  No, that wouldn't do!  I repeated the greeting in a stronger voice.  He stared down at me condescendingly.  I was sure if he could speak, he wouldn't deem me worthy to speak to.
Bridling and saddling him was no easy task.  Though he wasn't violent towards me (thank heavens!), he kept turning his head away from me.  I continually wondered if he required a person of more dignity to attach his accessories.
Finally, after a short struggle, I managed to slip on his bridle and saddle.  The only problem remaining was to get past the horse master.  I wondered why I had not thought of that before.  How could this great hulking beast grasp the concept of "sneaking"?!  My heart sank as I wondered if this was all a ploy to get me in trouble.  The Princess was right; letting her ride the High King's horse was a silly request.  Perhaps she never meant to ride him at all.  I seemed to recall her getting a cook's assistant arrested for supposedly trying to make off with the King's choice chickens when in fact the Princess herself had hidden them.  When her deceit was revealed, she argued that it was only a joke and had meant to return the chickens after a little while.  No one could arrest a princess, so the matter was dropped and the kitchen girl released.
Suddenly the horse master walked past.  I bit back a shriek and ducked.  He glanced in Desmond's direction, but didn't stop.  I waited until his footsteps receded before I straightened.  Then a low whistle sounded very near.  I peeked out of the stall and saw the princess.  She was beckoning.  I nodded and turned away so she wouldn't see my blanched face.  Maybe she really did want to try and ride Desmond.  This was ridiculous, but I could get in worse trouble for disobeying her than I could for stealing the King's crown.
Taking the reins, reopened the door and tugged.  Desmond slowly followed me, keeping his head up as if he could not bear to look at the scraggly peasant who was leading him.  I hoped to goodness that no one was around.  The huge horse and I crossed the stable yard and made it to safety behind a grove of trees, where Princess Debra had gone to wait.  "Ah, she's a beauty," she whispered in admiration.  "Your Majesty, permission to speak." "Of course." "Your Majesty, Desmond is a stallion, Your Majesty.  He's a boy."  Debra looked confused.  "Oh," she said, and giggled.  I did not see anything about the situation that could be described as humorous.  
Debra mounted the stallion with the ease of a well-trained rider.  My jaw nearly dropped again at how quickly she was able to hoist herself up onto the great beast.  She winked at me.  "You may wait here until I come back.  Then I expect you to return her safely to her stall.  And remember, your lips and mine are sealed."  I nodded vigorously.  "Your Majesty, permission to speak?" "Yes?" "Desmond is a boy, Your Majesty." She giggled again.  "So he is!" And with that, she urged Desmond into a run and was off.  My eyes nearly dropped out of my face.  Despite his size, Desmond was lithe and graceful as an elf of the great wood.  His powerful muscles rippled as he streaked across the sand, blending in with it and kicking up dust.  It would have been difficult to see him and his rider in the pale evening light if not for the princess' bright pink blouse.
After a few minutes of watching them gallop further into the flat, deserted plain, I sat against one of the trees and rested.  I began to have hope that no one would catch us.  Maybe Desmond and the princess would return safely, we would all go to our respective beds, and the night could be forgotten.  
I started to doze off at some point, but I was reawakened by shouts and screams.  Starting up, I discerned in the distance a giant cloud of dust.  Every once in a while a flash of pink showed through.  I gasped.  Desmond must have been spooked.  As silly as the notion was that such a gigantic beast could be scared, I knew it was possible.  After all, I'd seen a big dog get spooked by a cat.  And in a circus performance I'd seen those great Eastern elephants get their trunks in a twist over a mouse. 
Debra screamed again.  I wasn't sure what to do.  Then I spotted an air balloon in the sky.  The glint of metal on one of its occupants told me the King was taking his evening ride.  He had probably spotted the helpless Princess Debra by now, though he may not have recognized that it was indeed his daughter, getting tossed around helplessly by the reckless stallion.  
The sudden descent of the balloon confirmed that he had seen the scuffle and was coming to the rescue.  Breathing a sigh of relief, I raced to the stables to get the horsemaster for additional help.  I had promised not to breathe a word to anyone about Debra's riding Desmond, but I had not promised to refrain from saving her life. 
Paul, the horse master, was just exiting the stables when I ran into him.  "Oh, sir!" I cried.  He looked down at me with a puzzled smile.  "Oh, sir, Princess Debra is having trouble with her horse out there - look!" I pointed out across the desert to the cloud of dust.  Paul strained his eyes for a moment, then turned on his heel and ran to his horse's stall.  He mounted it and was off in seconds to help his princess.  I was already more at ease, for if anyone could handle a rogue horse - even one so huge as Desmond - it was Paul.  Still, I wished to see the outcome myself, so I started towards the spectacle on foot.  It was probably too much to hope for, but perhaps the princess would keep her promise to not betray my hand in the matter.
By the time I arrived at the scene, Paul had settled Desmond down and was holding up the cause of it all - a long, hideous snake.  It was dead, probably trampled to death under the horse's massive hooves.  Princess Debra was cuddled up in her father's arms, sobbing.  I must admit that I was disgusted with her.  
 Paul jumped off his horse and walked towards me solemnly.  My heart dropped down to my feet.  He must know what I did.  Now I was in the worst trouble I had ever been in, and I had always led a relatively clean life.  
"Jayne," he said quietly.  I looked up, fear in my eyes.  But to my surprise, he grinned.  "You deserve thanks for running to get me.  I fear if you had wasted another second, our dear Princess would have been trampled under the formidable hooves of this great beast."  Desmond snorted and I could have sworn that he winked at me.  My jaw dropped.  "Th-th-thank you, Sir," I stuttered, bowing and curtseying and shaking.  He clapped me on the shoulder and walked over to the king and his daughter.  "Your Majesty, that was a foolhardy thing to do, it was," he said sternly.  "You could have been killed."  The King nodded at his daughter.  "Yes, child, never do that again.  Now come with me back to the castle and rest your poor frazzled nerves."  Debra brushed the sand from her blouse, took a last, wistful look at the horse, and stepped into the hot-air balloon.

Whew.  That was a long post.  I hope you enjoyed it.  
-Ashley