Patrañas; or, Spanish Stories, Legendary and Traditional

by Rachel Harriette Busk

The Black Charger of Hernando.—Page 292.

Then every day she tried the armour on the young Hernando, and made him bestride the black charger, that he might be a valiant slayer of Moors like his father.

Now young Hernando was slight, and young Hernando was pale. And he shrank from the cold, hard armour, and the tall, snorting steed. But his mother Teresa was brave, brave as became a Christian spouse, and she listened not to his fears; but bade him be of good heart, and put his trust in Christ.

And at last the day came when she bade him go forth and do battle to the Moors. Young Hernando’s heart beat high, for his spirit indeed was willing; and he burned to add his name to the long traditions of prowess which his mother told him of his house. But his arm was all untried, and he shrank from the thought of pain, for the young tender flesh was weak. But he would not belie his mother, so he crossed the bold black charger; and the noble charger snorted, when he felt that once more he bore a Christian to the battle. By night they travelled on; and by day they slept in the shade. In the morning, when the sun began to dawn, they rose, and set out on their way; and as they crossed a plain, young Hernando saw a tall Moor coming towards them. And his heart smote him for fear; and he would gladly have turned out of the way. But he bethought him it became not a Christian to shrink away before a Moor; so he nerved him with what courage he might, and rode on steadily along his way.

Now, when the bold black charger scented the Pagan hound, he snorted, and shook his mane, and darted to the encounter. So young Hernando was borne along, and found himself face to face with his foe. Then his father’s shield rose to protect him; and the lance lifted up his arm; and the black charger rode at the Moor; and the lance cast him down from his seat. Then the sword leaped from its scabbard, and planting itself in young Hernando’s grasp, struck off the pagan’s head.

So Hernando tied the head to his saddle and bound the body upon its mule. Thus he rode on to the town—to the town of Royal Burgos. And when the people saw him bestriding the bold black charger, the grisly head hanging from his saddle, and the headless body following behind, bound fast to the African mule, they cried, “All hail to the victor! All hail to young Hernando, who conquered the pagan Moor!”

And so they brought him to the king, and his ghastly burden with him, and the headless rider behind. And the king rose and embraced him, and the queen held her fair white hand and gave it the youth to kiss. And she said, “A youth so comely and valiant should have armour rich and bright, and a steed with a shining coat.” So she called a page to bring a suit of polished steel, and a horse from the royal stables, and present them to young Hernando. Then they took off his ancient armour and laid it on the old black charger, and Hernando donned the new, and sprang into the saddle of the horse from the royal stall.

Now the bold black charger was grieved to be thus set aside, so he snorted and turned his head and rode back to Doña Teresa. When Doña Teresa saw him ride back with the empty armour, she thought that her son was dead, and rejoiced as a Christian mother, that the Moors had sent him to glory. So she laid up the ancient armour, and caressed the bold black charger, and led him to his fresh-littered stall.

Young Hernando meantime feared, as he sat on the fiery steed; for in his far-off hillside home he had but that black charger tried. Nor had he learnt to handle the weapons they gave him to bear.

But the king, who had seen him come in bearing along such goodly spoils, took him for a practised warrior, and gave him a work to do which needed a valiant heart. “Now keep this pass,” he said, “for the rocks are narrow and high, and one at a time, as the enemy comes, with your sword you will strike them down.”