Chapter Twelve
We headed to the stables under the full moon’s light. The steeds in the stalls were magnificent beasts. The horses were all Arabians, the oldest breed known to the world. The breed, which hailed from the deserts of the Middle East, were prized for their speed, endurance, and strong bones. I had no idea how these horses came to be in the employ of a group of knights from medieval times where heavy armor was the prized battle tactic. But the real Knights of the Round Table had never bothered much with heavy armor, having magical swords and shields to protect them from their foes.
Arthur, Lance, and Gawain strode into the stables. Each wore leather breeches that hugged at their powerful thighs. Their defined chests were covered with loose tunics. The knights pulled chain mail
