A Horse Named Disaster

The stables gave Kell the worst horse they had, because the good horses were for real knights, and the stablemaster could smell a fake from across the yard. The horse was named Disaster. Kell did not name it. It came pre-named, which he felt said something. Disaster bit him on the way out of the yard. Disaster bit a fencepost. Disaster tried, with real ambition, to bite the sun. But Disaster also walked in roughly the direction Kell pointed, and Kell had to admit that was more cooperation than he'd gotten from most living things lately. He patted its neck. It did not bite him for that, which he chose to read as friendship. "We don't have to actually fight the demon," he told the horse. "We just have to go in that direction and then, at some point, have a clever idea." Disaster snorted. It was not a confident snort.