Book 5, Chapter 15: Flowers And White Horses
We rode single file which meant, annoyingly, we rode in silence. Even the birds and foxes were quieter this day. I suppose I could yell my objections at him, but he’d ignore me.
It was true, though. I needed a guide. I didn’t even hate to admit it. Pride had nothing to do with it. And I wanted the big man with me. I just didn’t want him killed. Less awful, but still true, he might be endangering me because I might not protect myself if the mages came. Or would reflexively, like I killed those poor foxes. What distance away from me was safe if I flared up?
Cloud neighed. Right. I petted her neck. Have to get my head out of the gloom.
It was another nice day. Sunny. Clean air through the trees and the occasional floral scents wafting by, the buzzing of bees and other insects going about their business.
Being on Cloud on an animal trail, I had to duck under branches, push away smaller ones, but at least no cobwebs were wrapping around my face. They’d all be reserved for the leader, my guide and personal chef, Morry.
After lunch, which we had in the saddle, and made me wonder if he was trying to avoid more discussion, more of me telling him to go. The silence helped, though. Watching the bushes and trees go by, trying to keep Cloud from munching on errant herbs and grasses, and giving up, it all cleared my head, and I was less flustered by the time Morry stopped his horse. He slid off and held his palm up for me to stop, too.
I dismounted, taking Cloud up to see what he wanted. Getting closer, the vibrant green trees and bushes and herbs underneath formed a large circle, so large it was nearly imperceptible as such. Through the trunks, hundreds of white lilies stood tall, daisies under them, blue bells and even purple orchids and between these, marigolds, and clovers between everything else, throughout the meadow. The scent of so many flowers, heavy in the air, somehow brightened the glade and made the day happier. Many, many more bees and butterflies than I’d ever seen zoomed and fluttered around visiting this flower, that flower, then another.
Nothing like this existed anywhere and I stepped forward to enter and enjoy its wonders. “Wow,” fell off my tongue.
Morry’s big arm abruptly in front of me, stopping my desire. He whispered, “I meant for you to stay back.”
“Why? It’s so beautiful! We should stay here tonight. What an amazing place. Let’s set up camp! We’ll take the rest of the day and stroll around the flowers.”
“Princess, this area is not safe. It temps you with its beauty. We have to leave. Now.”
The nearest flowers weren’t far away at all. I could take a quick peak, breathe in the scents, and be out in no time. “I’ll just take a moment.”
He took hold of my arm, pulling me still, “You didn’t listen when I warned you about the wyvern. Please listen to me now. This might be a dryad’s grove and dryads are not to be tempted.”
“Tempted? I just want to see the flowers.” But his look was more stern and serious than usual. “Alright, ok, Morry. I won’t go in. Let’s, uh, let’s . . . Hey, are those horses? They look too large for deer. And they don’t have antlers.” An entirely white horse walked between the trees, each step deliberate and graceful, its muscles bulging like no other horse I’d seen. Two more were behind that one, their heads below the flowers.
“That confirms it. The white steeds of the dryad. We must get away from here with all possible haste.”
I blinked a couple times, in shock. The horse had a golden, spiral horn jutting out from its forehead. “Are those unicorns? That one has a horn on its head.”
“You see unicorns?”
“You tell me! I’ve never seen one. Outside of books. Are these really unicorns?”
“I can’t see the horns.” Crouching low, he looked over at me. “I thought you’d slept with one of the suitors.”
“What! Where’d you get that idea in your head?”
“At the Barclay Castle, you were going to tell me something. You said that I’d hate you for it. I assumed that meant you’d bedded one of the boys.”
“Oh my god. No! Why are you bringing this up now?”
“Only virgins can see unicorns.”
“What? Jesus! I’m not, there’s no way.” This body, it had to be this body. I certainly felt like an adult. Though, little by little, the certainty was slipping away. I swore like an adult! “There’s no way I’m a virgin.”
“Princess, there’s no shame in it. If you can see the horns . . .”
“What? No, come on, you’re messing with me. You can see them, can’t you?”
“Princess,” he shook his head, “it doesn’t matter. Let’s go before the dryad sees us.”
“Are you sure you can’t see the horns?”
“I cannot. Please,” he took my arm and wheeled us around, “we can talk about this later. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters but putting miles between this place and us.”
***
I was about to pester him with questions, but his stern face became even more so and I knew he wouldn’t answer any until we were well away from the grove. We led the horses away, being as quiet as possible, but still making the normal noises one makes when leading, then riding, horses. If the dryad was home, it probably knew we were there and that we did not violate its grove.
An hour or so later, he dismounted, holding Cloud’s reins as we headed into a valley, and asked, “Did you really see unicorns?”
“Did you really not see them?”
“They looked like white horses to me. The steeds a dryad keeps. They guard her realm. Had you entered, they would have attacked you. They are much more vicious than normal horses.”
“Maybe they’re unicorns. Most people can’t see the horns, so they’re thought of as steeds.”
He looked back, stroking his stubble, “Unicorns. It’s said that they can grant you a boon. If you can catch one.”
“A boon? Let me guess, there’s also a curse involved.”
“Yes. Most people want power and status. Becoming an earl and the like. Others go for fortune and wiser men go for love.”
“You catch a unicorn and somehow it makes a girl fall in love with you? That’s not only ridiculous, it’s immoral. You might as well be buying a slave and demanding love for the price of freedom.”
He grunted. “I always thought of it as romantic.”
“You’re not looking at it from the girl’s point of view.”
“I suppose not. I don’t think it’s meant as slavery. Perhaps the unicorn makes it such that two future lovers meet earlier than they would. Or meet when they otherwise wouldn’t.”
“Sure, ok. That sounds better, but still.”
“Desires are dangerous things when made magic, Princess. It rarely goes right for the wishing party.”
“Is that why you had us leave that beautiful place so quickly? I wanted to see it!”
“Not the white steeds, though they are dangerous, or the unicorns, if they are such things, but the dryad. They are sometimes known to take a person hostage for many, many years.”
“Hostage?”
“As you said earlier, as a slave. For what purpose, I don’t know. But, men are said to disappear into dryad groves or trees and not be seen again for decades. Always they return as young as they once were.”
“What, so they don’t age? Why wouldn’t people seek out dryads? Hell, I’d be a servant of a dryad for an extra few decades to my life.”
“What of your husband? Your children? While you’d be away, they’d age.”
“I have none of those things.”
“Your kingdom, then. No one would recognize you as ruler when you got out, you’d be tainted. You’d become poor, a beggar, never finding a home.”
I laughed, “Ok, ok, that’s hilarious. I’m fifteen, excuse me, nearly sixteen. I’d have no future at thirty, thirty-five? And I’d still look as old as I am.”
“It’s the stigma of once being with such a creature. Who knows what magical curses and horrors you’d carry that a dryad would so easily let you go? People shun those released, Princess.”
“That just sounds like jealousy.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe it is.”
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