Yet there is something more important to the warrior than his panoply. What is a cavalier without his horse? Few, indeed, are the humans whom the best of barons will set above his favorite destrer. Your horses are comrades in hunt, tourney, and battle. By their speed and intelligence they save your life when squire or vassal avail not. When they fail, commend your soul to the saints--you will soon be in purgatory. From boyhood a cavalier has almost lived in the saddle. When in danger he knows all the capacities of his charger, and trusts him accordingly. Such a companion is to be treated with care. He is fed daintily; he is combed and tricked out like a delicate woman, and when ill he is physicked with more wisdom possibly than will be vouchsafed to most Christian denizens of a castle. Stories abound of how horses have succored their masters and stood watch over them while sleeping; and even one tale of how, when a knight returned after seven years, he was not recognized by his betrothed, but was by his faithful destrer. Another anecdote is how a knight answered, on being asked, "What will be your chief joy in paradise?" "To see Blanchart, my old horse." Such being the case, the greatest pains are taken with horse breeding. Rich seigneurs rejoice in valuable stallions, and even monasteries keep breeding stables. A fine horse is an even more acceptable gift to a potentate than a notable hawk. Many horses are called "Arabian," but probably these come from North Africa. In France are raised horses equal to the best, especially those powerful steeds not quite so swift as the Oriental, but better able to bear a knight in ponderous armor. Gascon horses are in particular demand, and Conon takes peculiar satisfaction in a brood mare from Bordeaux. To ride a mare, however, is regarded as unknightly--"the women to the women"--probably an old Teutonic prejudice. Aimery, while squire, found the care of the count's horses a prime duty. This was no trifle, for De Bernon, like every magnate, always kept several palfreys, handsome steeds of comfortable pace for peace-time riding, besides his special destrer--the great fierce war horse for battle. "To mount the high horse"--the destrer--is to show one's pride, not by vain boasting, but by displaying oneself in terrible weapons.[62] Of course, however, the haughty young squire did not have to bother about his lord's _roncins_, the ordinary steeds for the servants, or the _sommiers_ for the baggage, humbler creatures still. The favorite color for horses is white; after that dappled gray; after that bay or chestnut. Poets exhaust their skill in describing beautiful steeds, as if they were beautiful women. Wrote one bard about a Gascon horse: "His hair outshone the plumage of a peacock; his head was lean; his eye gray like a falcon; his breast large and square; his crupper broad; his thigh round; and rump tight. All beholding him exclaimed 'they had never seen a handsomer creature!'"