With the fourth Sunday of Advent, of course, here's a childhood story about our fourth musketeer. One that I hope will make you smile. While this will definitely be the last you read of me before Christmas, I'm really looking forward to returning to more regular fanfic writing after some real life things (namely the submission of a 300 page PhD) have been sorted out. So if you would like to see more of my writing, please head on over to "Praise and Glory", which will become my extensive pre-series musketeers tale. Plenty of learning and fighting, h&c and friendship to come, as ever with a good dose of historical accuracy thrown in. But for now, please enjoy this little tale. Merry Christmas, readers!

Lupiac, Gascony, 1610

"Belle is the best horse in the world," Charles said. He crossed his arms and nodded his head solemnly, looking up at his father. It was a rather monumental statement after all.

His father chuckled and settled him more comfortably on his knee.

"What about Bayard?" he asked.

Charles screwed up his face, thinking about that long and hard.

"He's a good horse," he finally conceded. "But Belle is my favourite horse."

With that important question settled, he snuggled into his father's arms, quite content to stay there until bedtime. That resolve lasted for all of five heartbeats before he started to squirm again.

His father held him tight.

"Do you know the story of Bayard?" he asked.

Charles looked up at him. "Bayard is a good horse and he lives in a nice stable with his friend Belle and he works on our farm and sometimes I feed him apples. Can I feed him an apple now, Papa? And Belle, too? Please, Papa! Belle is really hungry, her tummy is all rumbly."

His father hummed quietly. "That's what Bayard does now, that's true. But there's a story about a horse called Bayard from a long, long time ago."

"When Mamie Julienne was a little girl?"

His father smiled. "A long, long time before Mamie Julienne was even born. This story is from the time when Charlemagne was the king."

"He was a really good king. He won all the battles," Charles said. He swished his right hand through the air like he was fighting an invisible foe. He should really go and get his sword. It was only made of wood, but his papa said that when he was big, he could have a real sword. Charles really hoped he'd be big soon so he could have a real sword.

"That's the one," his father said. "When Charlemagne was king, there was a knight called Renaud, the son of Aymon."

"Did he win a lot of fights?"

"He won a lot of fights. He was a very good knight. He was so good that the king—"

"That's Charlemagne, he's called Charles, just like me," Charles said.

"Yes, that's right, Charlemagne learned of Renaud's many victories and he was very proud of him."

"Like you're proud of me?"

"Just like that. Charlemagne was very proud of Renaud and he gave him permission to build a castle to protect his land and that's the big castle that we have in Montauban today. That was Renaud who built that castle, and since we know that, we know that the story about Renaud's horse must be true as well," his father said with a smile.

"Tell me more about his horse!" Charles said impatiently.

"His horse was given to him by the king."

"Charlemagne."

"He gave him the horse because Renaud was such a good knight. Bayard was a bay horse—"

"That's when the body is brown and the tail is black," Charles interrupted, proud to show how much he knew about horses.

"That's right, just like our Bayard. But Bayard was not a normal horse. He had a touch of magic about him."

"That's silly. A horse can't do magic."

"Just wait and let me tell you about his magic," his father said, tapping Charles on the nose with a finger. Charles giggled.

"Renaud was the oldest of four brothers. All of them were really good fighters and they fought against all the enemies of the king. They fought very bravely and they won many victories together, but one day there were many, many enemies against them and only the four brothers were still fighting. Their enemies were everywhere and the horses of Renaud's brothers were killed."

Charles gasped, his eyes wide. He snuggled deeper into his father's arms.

"Renaud's brothers must be really sad that their horses died," he said.

"Yes," his father confirmed. "They were very sad and they were very afraid because there were so many enemies. They wanted to ride away, but there were four of them and only one horse between them."

"And their horse is called Bayard like our horse."

"So Renaud rode Bayard and suddenly something magical happened..."

Charles dug a finger between his father's ribs. "Tell me what happened!"

"But I thought magic was silly?"

"Tell me!"

"As Renaud rode on Bayard, suddenly he felt the horse shift underneath him. Bayard whinnied once and he stretched and suddenly he was long enough for two knights to ride him all at once. The second brother jumped onto Bayard and now two of them could ride away. And then Bayard whinnied again and he stretched and suddenly he was long enough for three knights, so the third brother could ride away as well."

Charles eyes went wide as he listened to his father's tale.

"He needs to do it again for the other brother," he said. "They can't leave the other brother!"

"And wouldn't you know it... just as their enemies were closing in all around them with their shiny swords and their long pikes, Bayard whinnied one last time and he stretched and suddenly he was long enough for the last brother to ride him as well," his father said.

"So they can all ride away now!"

"Yes, indeed," his father confirmed. "And Bayard ran and ran and he ran really fast, carrying all four brothers. But their enemies had fast horses as well and the brothers couldn't get away from them. Then they came to the side of a cliff. There was a narrow valley far below, only a few paces wide, but very, very deep. It was too wide for any horse to jump, but Bayard was no normal horse."

"He can jump across!"

"Oh, but remember he was carrying four knights with all of their armour and all of their weapons. It was no easy task. But Bayard ran and ran and then he jumped..."

Charles held his breath. He really hoped that Bayard would make it across the valley.

"It was a very long jump," his father said. "But Bayard flew like an eagle, gliding in the air, and only a heartbeat or two later, he landed on the ground on the other side of the valley. And none of the enemies could get to Renaud and his brothers."

"Did the enemies fall down the cliff?"

"No, but they looked very silly, standing there and looking at Bayard and the brothers."

Charles giggled. "They are silly enemies."

"And Bayard was a really good horse. The brothers rode him for many, many years and he always helped them when they were in danger. And when he couldn't stay with Renaud and his brothers any more, Bayard disappeared into the forest."

"What happened?"

"Nobody knows... but sometimes, somebody finds a bay horse and the horse is called Bayard and there's a little touch of magic about him."

Charles thought about that.

"Like our Bayard?"

"Well, he's a bay horse..." his father said slowly.

"Can we look?"

"Look at what?"

"Can we look if Bayard has magic?"

"Of course."

Hand in hand they walked across the courtyard and into the stable. Charles picked out two particularly nice apples. He fed one to Belle. She was still his favourite horse in the whole world after all. But then he stepped across to where Bayard stood. He held out the apple for him and as the big bay horse munched on it, Charles looked at him critically.

He wasn't sure.

He gently stroked the soft muzzle and laughed when Bayard snorted at him. He looked up and up and up, over the silky black mane, all the way up to Bayard's back. He was really pretty long.

"Papa," Charles said and tugged at his father's sleeve. "Can I sit on him?"

"Of course."

In the blink of an eye, his father had hoisted him up onto Bayard's back. Charles sat there, his legs stretched wide across the heavy draught horse. After a moment, he leaned back and finally lay down on his back. Bayard was a very long horse.

"Papa," Charles whispered. "I think he's a little bit magic."