Sir Apropos Of Nothing - Part 27
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Part 27

"And it will hold its beautiful head high, and its horn will glow," she continued, caught up in her fantasy. "And all will see me coming, and my father will feel ashamed that he ever thought to send me away."

"That's a charming scenario." We were drawing uncomfortably close to the herd. Some of the unicorns were taking note of us, their tails whipping around in what I feared was agitation. "Now allow me to offer an alternative: You walk up to a unicorn, try to exercise your influence, and the skittish animal runs you through with its horn."

"That could never happen. Unicorn horns have the power to cure."

"So I hear . . . provided you grind them up and use them properly. Having neither a grinder nor knowledge of proper procedures, I'd rather not take my chances."

"You are a squire, Apropos. If you are ever to become Sir Apropos, you will have to learn to take chances."

"Not with the life of the princess," I said tautly. Which was true enough. I reached for her, ready to sling her over my shoulder and haul her out of there if necessary, but she increased her speed and dodged my efforts. She even let out a curt laugh, as if the entire thing were a game. "These things are unpredictable, Entipy!" I reminded her. "They could kill you . . . !"

"To die . . . at the hooves or horns of creatures as beautiful as these . . ." Her eyes widened at the exciting thought. "How glorious would that be?"

Such words as these did nothing to lighten my mood. There was nothing romantic about suicide, and that's where I was worried this was going. "Not as glorious as living to tell people what we witnessed here today. Let's go, now. N-"

"Apropos," she said, her voice firm, "I'm going to do this."

"But you have to be a-" I stopped.

She looked at me, curious. "I have to be a what?"

I licked my lips, my voice suddenly feeling very raspy. "Well . . . you have to be . . . you know . . ."

"No, I don't know." I wondered if she was going to make me say it just to watch me be uncomfortable.

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Well . . . you know . . . a virg . . . a virg . . ."

"Virgin?" There was thick sarcasm in her voice. "Number one, that is an old wives' tale. And number two . . . what are you implying?"

"I'm not implying anything."

"Yes, you are. You're saying I'm not a virgin."

"No, I'm not." I was trying to cover as fast as I could. "I was just, uhm . . . reminding you that you had to be one."

"Why would you have to remind me of that? If you believed me to be one, then you would think that my status would guarantee safe pa.s.sage. The only possible reason you would feel the need to bring it up is a belief that I am not. And I am, frankly, a bit insulted."

"I'm just suggesting caution, that's all. I-"

"You think I can't do it." There was rising ire in her voice. I felt as if the ground around me were turning to sand, sucking me down, even though it was beautiful and green and harmless. "You think I'm not a virgin and that I'm not up to the challenge. Well, I'll show you . . ."

"You don't have to show me anything!"

Obviously, though, she felt she did, because she quickened her pace all the more. She was making a beeline toward one particular unicorn. She certainly had picked out a remarkable-looking one. It was indeed purest white, and the sparkles in its mane almost made it look as if light was pouring out from the creature's immortal soul. It was watching her with those soulful eyes. I wondered how many sights the unicorn had seen in its lifetime, how many foolish maidens had tried to approach it. It tilted its head slightly, watching Entipy as if she were a mad little thing . . . which she was.

She slowed ever so slightly as she drew near. The unicorn took a step back and gave a faint, musical whinny that sounded more than anything like a warning. It had not lowered its horn as if to charge, but it certainly didn't seem enthused about seeing her. Entipy was making soft "chuk chuk" noises as she got within range of the beast. I noticed that Entipy and the one unicorn were not exactly operating independently of the rest of the world. Every unicorn in the vicinity was now watching the scenario play out. I wondered how they were going to react if it didn't play out in a manner to their liking.

"h.e.l.looooo," said Entipy softly. She kept both her hands flat and open, palms up, so that the unicorn could see for itself that she was unarmed. "Apropos . . . what do you think it is? A girl or a boy?"

"Neither. It's a d.a.m.ned horse, and I mislike this whole thing. It stinks of magic and I'd sooner we were anywhere but here."

"We will be, I told you. We're going to ride them to Terracote."

Now that I was a bit closer (already closer than I liked) I could see that there was even hair on the horns themselves. It was such a light color as to be almost invisible, but it was there nevertheless.

I was getting a very uneasy feeling about the entire business, because a number of the unicorns were looking at me, or at least it seemed as if they were. All I could dwell upon at that point was Tacit's saying that he had been raised by unicorns. What if he'd been telling the truth? Not only that . . . but what if it had been these unicorns? What if one of them had actually suckled him? What if . . . what if they knew what I had done?

I could feel those stormy blue eyes burrowing into me, and the more I wanted to clear my mind of my a.s.saulting Tacit, the more it seemed to rise to the forefront. Could they read minds? Smell guilt feelings? I had no way of knowing; these were magical creatures, to be sure. They were capable of just about anything.

"Entipy," I said slowly, not taking my eyes off the great beasts who were not taking their eyes off me, "these are not captive show creatures in a traveling circus. These are wild animals, out in the wild. We are on their turf, in a very uncontrolled situation, and anything can happen. And a goodly number of those anythings would be counterproductive to our continued health."

She wasn't listening. Part of me was hoping that one of them would just run her through and get it over with. The suspense was killing me. She was almost up to the unicorn that she had selected for the questionable honor of being her mount. The horse wasn't backing up at that point. Why should it be? It had a sizable number of friends to serve as support against a single unarmed girl. Entipy was continuing to make those clucking noises, causing her to sound like an overlarge chicken, interspersed with such useful comments as "Here, unicorn. Nice unicorn. Pretty pretty unicorn."

Then, with an extremely credible display of horsemanship, Entipy snagged a handful of the unicorn's mane and swung herself expertly onto its back before it could offer protest. She straddled it, looked triumphantly over at me, and started to call out "See?!" right before the unicorn threw her into the air.

I should have let her just hit the ground. It might have jolted some sense into her. Instead I stupidly bolted toward her and lunged for her. She crashed into me, sending us both to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. I felt a soreness in my chest and fingered my ribs, hoping that the impact hadn't broken one.

"I'm all right! I'm all right!" Entipy said, disentangling herself from me.

"I don't care!" I shot back grumpily, sitting up. "That was a d.a.m.ned fool thing to do."

"I am a princess," she said haughtily. "I do what I like."

"If what you 'like' is to get your fool neck broken, keep right on doing it because you were well on your way. You'd probably have done it by now if I hadn't caught you."

She regarded me thoughtfully and crouched beside me. Her face softened. "Yes. You did, didn't you. That was sweet."

The smell of lilacs was making me feel light-headed. I wondered if it was having the same effect on her. Then, before I could stop her, she wrapped an arm around the back of my head and kissed me pa.s.sionately. I felt myself being carried away by the moment, and I returned the kiss with pa.s.sion of my own, taking her into my arms. I felt giddy, intoxicated. For just a moment, all my concerns about her being unpredictable and untrustworthy faded away, and I felt something deep and profound within me . . . as if, impossibly, in this hard and cynical world, I had found a genuine soul mate. A part of myself I didn't even know I was missing. All that from one ardor-charged kiss.

The unicorn let out a whinny, and it was not musical, and it was not alone, because the lot of them chorused in.

We broke off and I looked at them, my eyes wide with alarm. I could no longer make out which unicorn had been the one that Entipy had been endeavoring to mount, because they were now cl.u.s.tered together. More and more of them were coming in from all sides, advancing. Their tails were no longer swishing back and forth in leisurely fashion. Instead they were straight back or straight down, tense and quivering with what I could only interpret as rage.

Oh, G.o.ds, they do do know, know, the frantic thought went through my head. the frantic thought went through my head. They know what I did . . . they know that I shouldn't be here. They know what I did . . . they know that I shouldn't be here. Unicorns were, as noted, magical. They were true creatures of destiny and, therefore, must have had some clear idea of how destiny was to be shaped. And here came I, Apropos, who had usurped the rightful place of the unicorn-bred hero of the story, flaunting that craven triumph in their faces. Little wonder they weren't exactly happy with me at that moment. Unicorns were, as noted, magical. They were true creatures of destiny and, therefore, must have had some clear idea of how destiny was to be shaped. And here came I, Apropos, who had usurped the rightful place of the unicorn-bred hero of the story, flaunting that craven triumph in their faces. Little wonder they weren't exactly happy with me at that moment.

Entipy didn't understand any of that. "It was just a kiss, you horned prudes!" she said in irritation as we got to our feet. "He saved me! He's . . ." Caught up in the moment, she took my hand in hers. "He's my hero."

And then went up a sound of pure fury such as I'd never heard and hope never to hear again. The sea of white was advancing on us like a great wave. I looked in the direction from which we'd come, but we were cut off, the herd having moved across it. It seemed that every single unicorn in the herd had now made us the complete and undivided focus of their attention.

From directly behind us I felt a gust of cold air. It was an area more toward the mountain pa.s.ses, bereft of gra.s.s, and so the unicorns had focused their energies, or charms, or whatever you would call it on that particular piece of land. The path to it seemed clear, which was fortunate, because if we'd been surrounded on all sides we wouldn't have had a prayer. As it was, I wasn't giving our chances great odds.

Even Entipy was now fully aware that we were in serious trouble. Those blue eyes of the unicorns, as beautiful as they'd been to look at while they were relaxed, were terrifying to see in anger. Entipy's gaze was riveted by them, and all her high-flown words about what it would be like to die at the hooves of the mythic beasts flew right away. "I think . . . we'd better leave," she said slowly.

I was already backing up, not removing my gaze from them. "I couldn't agree more. On the count of three-"

"No," she said sharply. "Don't run."

She put an arm around my waist. This gesture seemed to incense the closest unicorns, and they actually reared up and pawed the ground.

"I think they want us out of here as quickly as possible," I told her.

"I read in a book about unicorns: Never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention."

"We've already got their d.a.m.ned attention."

"Just . . . do as I do." She took a deep breath to steady herself and then turned her back to the unicorns and proceeded to walk in a calm, unhurried manner. As much as I wanted to bolt, I couldn't bring myself to flee and leave her behind. Besides, with my lame leg, I don't know how fast I could have gone anyway.

So I walked next to her, maintaining as much dignity as I could. The way ahead of us, toward the mountains, remained clear. The herd had converged behind us, apparently not trying to cut us off from departing. We weren't going the way I wanted to go, unfortunately. We were leaving the road behind, heading toward a far more hazardous path, but I didn't see much choice. Still, we weren't completely out of options. We might be able to double back around the unicorn grazing area. And, at the very least, I had the map, so I might be able to locate us again provided I could find a decent landmark.

One step after another, and even though we weren't looking at them, I could sense the eyes of every one of the beasts upon us. But at least it seemed that they were going to let us go. I thanked the G.o.ds for that, and even began to chide myself that I'd let my imagination run was wild as I had. Thinking that somehow they were able to read my mind and know what I had done to their favorite son. It was, really, the height of absurdity to attribute that much insight to dumb animals, magical or no.

"That," I breathed, once I started to feel that we were a safe distance, "was close. Good advice there, about the walking."

"Thank you for trusting me," she said. "I know it's not easy for you to trust anyone. I'm honored."

"You're welcome."

"And by the way . . . you kiss very well."

And she reached over and actually grabbed my a.s.s, giving it an affectionate squeeze and causing me to jump slightly.

The unicorns went berserk.

As one, an infuriated bellow was ripped from their collective throats like d.a.m.ned souls in h.e.l.l. Our heads whipped around just in time to see that the lot of them had lowered their horns, and they were charging.

Obviously, they'd noticed us.

"Run!" I screamed. Suddenly all the lameness of my leg was completely forgotten as Entipy and I bolted. The unicorns were a fair distance behind us, but they were closing the gap rapidly as we ran as fast as we could down the mountain pa.s.s. The incline was sharp, the footing uncertain, but the need to flee was great. Entipy was clutching my free hand tightly as I used the staff as never before to propel me along.

The ground rumbled beneath the pounding hooves of the unicorns, and we ran like mad. We ran as if our lives depended upon it, which they most certainly did, because the unicorns were not stopping, and if they caught up with us, we would be pulp beneath their hooves in no time at all.

Part of me viewed the scene almost as if my spirit had left my body. I could see, in my mind's eye, the sea of white, with dots of brown and green, converging upon us and, in many ways, it was a thing of beauty. No, of joy. Creatures of myth, creatures of legend, creatures of power, moving as one, their manes shimmering, their hooves flashing. If one was able to see it perched safely atop a mountain, one would find oneself weeping in joy at being able to see such a sight.

As for me, I was weeping in terror. I could practically feel the horns running me through, the hooves trampling me. The ground trembled all the more, and Entipy and I took turns, her dragging me, me dragging her. "Run! Run!" I kept shouting unnecessarily. Entipy stumbled, her dress ripping, and I yanked her to her feet as if she was weightless and kept going.

The unicorns were closing. We had no hope. For one wild moment I entertained the notion of trying to leap to one side or the other, to get out of the way of the stampede, but there was nowhere to go. We were deep into the pa.s.s, the mountains looming on either side of us, the rock face too sheer for us to have any hope of getting away. Even the mountains themselves seemed to be trembling in fear as the unicorn herd descended upon us. And worst of all, they were bringing that same d.a.m.ned smell of lilacs with them. I was going to be gored and crushed while sniffing flowers. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and settled for shrieking in terror. It was a most unmanly sound and probably would have lost me Entipy's respect, had she been able to hear me over the deafening pounding.

That was when a huge chunk of ice and snow struck the ground directly in front of us. We dodged around it, and then another struck, and another, and we were leaping to one side and the other automatically, without thinking about what was happening. The thunder of the unicorns had not abated, and then more pieces of ice fell, and more, like a great rain, and then I thought, It can't be, It can't be, because it sounded to me as if the stampede was slowing. I chanced a glance around and yes, it was true, it was gloriously true, the unicorns were breaking off their pursuit. because it sounded to me as if the stampede was slowing. I chanced a glance around and yes, it was true, it was gloriously true, the unicorns were breaking off their pursuit.

"We're saved!" cried out Entipy, who had seen the same thing.

Except . . .

. . . except the rumbling hadn't stopped.

. . . except it had . . . but had been replaced. What I was hearing and feeling now was not the concentrated thudding of hundreds of hooves. Instead it was something deeper, even more profound, as if we were trapped inside of a thunderhead. The rumbling was no longer originating from behind us; instead it was all around us, above, below, and the chunks of snow were getting bigger, one of them striking me a glancing blow.

I looked up.

The snow on the mountains was breaking loose, descending toward us at horrifying speed and velocity.

Instantly I realized what had happened. The pounding hooves of the unicorns had jarred loose the snow from the mountains. "Avalanche!" I shouted. Entipy looked up as well and gasped. There was nowhere to go but forward, and that we did as fast as we could.

It wasn't fast enough.

The snow came crashing down, filling in the gap between the mountains. A sea of white of a very different sort from the equine sea that had been pursuing us, but no less deadly.

The path ahead of us suddenly dropped off. We ran as fast as we could and then the snow caught up with us. The frosty tidal wave lifted us off the ground, tumbling all around us, and I held on to Entipy's hand for as long as I could, but then I was torn away from her. I heard her cry out my name once and then her voice was lost in the crashing of the snow.

G.o.ds, how could this get any worse? I wondered, right before we hit the cliff. I wondered, right before we hit the cliff.

I wasn't aware of it until I was over it, nor did I have any true picture of how high it was. All I knew was that suddenly there was no sense of solidity beneath me aside from the huge pieces of snow that were endeavoring to bury me. I thrashed at the air as if I could somehow use the airborne ice chunks as stepping-stones to keep me aloft, an endeavor which worked about as well as you can probably suspect. Amazingly, I managed to hold on to my staff, wrapping my arms around it, and it was raining snow all around me. I resolved never to wonder how things could get worse, and then I hit bottom-or whatever it was-so hard that it knocked all the breath out of me. That was unfortunate, because more snow piled on top of me from overhead. I curled up, bringing my arms over my head to try and afford me protection, and waited until the rumbling-which seemed to go on for an eternity-ceased.

I was entombed. Buried alive in white.

I had no definite idea which way was up or down, but I took a guess and started digging as fast and as frantically as I could. For all I knew, it was a futile endeavor. If I was under twelve feet of snow, there was no way I was going to be able to break surface before I suffocated. But that wasn't going to stop me from doing my d.a.m.nedest to survive.

There was a small pocket of air around me, and I clawed for the surface, trying to dig my way through it. It was everything I could do not to let sheer panic overwhelm me. I knew that if that happened, I'd be finished. I'd thrash around so much that I'd use up my air before I even came close to escaping.

My fingers dug into the snow as I shoved and pushed, trying to burrow out. Right above me, the snow seemed so packed in that I couldn't get through it at all. I snapped open the bladed end of my staff and shoved it in, prying at it, jarring it loose. It fell in my face and there was more right above it, but at least it was loose enough that I could push it away and keep going.

My breath was coming in ragged gasps, my eyes filled with dirt and moisture so that I could barely see. My feet and hands were completely numb. I wasn't scooping or pushing the snow away at that point; I was clubbing it with fists that weren't feeling anything anymore. Once again I felt light-headed, but this time it wasn't from the scent of lilacs; it was from the scent of my own death. I was going to be buried alive there, and my body would never be found. Runcible's people would be sitting there in Terracote, waiting in futility. I wondered how long they would remain there before they gave us up for lost; before they decided that that b.a.s.t.a.r.d wh.o.r.e's son, Apropos of Nothing, had bungled the job of returning the "precious cargo" and my name was entered into the lists of the greatest failures in Isteria.

Had Entipy made it out? Had she survived somehow? Was she nearer to the surface, on top perhaps? Or was she buried even farther below? She could be within inches of me and I'd never know. So much I would never know. My life was going to end there, a series of questions with no answers . . .

The world was hazing out around me, my efforts to clamber upward becoming less and less emphatic. I tried to tell myself that I had to keep going. To make it for Entipy . . . for my mother's sake . . . for . . .

For yourself. That's the only thing that's really important to you. Don't try to pretend otherwise.

It was the voice of Sharee . . . the voice of the weaver whom I had rescued a lifetime ago . . . and she was right there next to me, in my mind's eye, looking at me with open scorn. That's really all it's been. You. You can fool others, but not me. That's really all it's been. You. You can fool others, but not me.

"Go away," I muttered between swollen lips as I kept pushing upward, if for no other reason than to get away from her.

Do you want some free advice?

"No."

She's not worth it, she went on as if I hadn't spoken-which, considering my state of mind at that point, I might actually not have done. she went on as if I hadn't spoken-which, considering my state of mind at that point, I might actually not have done. The princess, I mean. She's going to bring you nothing but heartache. Trust me on that. The princess, I mean. She's going to bring you nothing but heartache. Trust me on that.

Trust a weaver. Fat chance.

If you get out of this, you head off and never look back. Carve out a new life for yourself. Stay away from knights. You were never meant for that life. Live within your reality, not your dreams.

"All I have are my dreams, because the reality is a nightmare."

Your reality is what you make it.

I moaned. Not only was I going to die, but I was going to die having to listen to homilies.