Friday, June 09, 2006

Episode 23 -- Moment of Decision

"Look again," Gundar said. "They cannot have gone far."

He fought to keep his impatience in check while Eric ran hither and yon in the dark, calling and whistling. He longed to join in the search, but considered it imprudent to leave Doremus alone with Moly and her passengers. Despite his charming ways, Doremus' integrity left much to be desired.

"That fool!" Gundar muttered as he scoured the moonlit landscape with his eyes, hoping to catch some glimpse of the errant equines. "If there be anyone within a hundred miles, he will surely call them to us."

After what seemed a lifetime of waiting, Eric returned. His slumped shoulders told all.

"Were they stolen, do you think?" Gundar asked.

"No," Eric said. "They pulled up the stakes. Something must have frightened them."

"Do you mean to tell me that you cannot even stake out a team of horses?" Gundar asked, allowing his testiness to override his better judgement.

"The ground was softer than I realized," Eric said defensively.

"No matter," Gundar said as off-handedly as he could manage. "Unless Moly can be persuaded to pull the carriage, we will have to proceed on foot."

"That is pure foolishness," Eric said. "How far do you suppose you could get with that great club-footed beast?"

"Softly, softly!" Doremus said. "Moly is better than your whole team of horses. She does not care to be insulted."

"Let us return to the cabin," Scaramouche suggested, "finish our supper, and sleep. We can track the horses in the morning."

"They will be too far gone by then," Gundar said. "We must continue on our way forthwith. With any luck, we will secure better transportation along the way."

Eric straightened. "If you continue, you continue without me. I must find my horses."

"You can buy new ones -- as many as you want -- as soon as we have completed our task!" Gundar reminded him.

"They may have caught the stakes between some rocks," Eric fretted.

"It would serve them right," Gundar said. "Whatever happened, they are lost to us, and we must continue."

"This is rough country," Eric said. "They might be attacked by wild beasts."

"That is the way of the earth," Gundar said. "All beasts must eat." He tugged on Moly's halter. "Let us be on our way."

"No!" Eric said with unequivocal firmness. "They are my horses, and I am responsible for them."

Gundar dropped the rope and stomped over to confront Eric, scowling at him nose to nose and eyeball to eyeball. The blacksmith met his glare without flinching.

Gundar fleetingly considered killing him and stealing his magic purse. Then he shrugged. "Have it your way. You can catch up with us once you find your team."

As the night hours passed, Gundar increasingly questioned the wisdom of his judgement. Progress was painstaking, with frequent re-adjustments of Moly's cargo, and seemed to be becoming slower by the minute. From time to time, Moly would balk, moaning. Doremus made frequent reference to his own advanced age and rheumatic knees. The only one who seemed content was Scaramouche, who was slumped forward and snoring, his head pillowed on the bag of provisions.

"Can't you hurry this brute up?" Gundar asked as the first pink streaks of dawn announced the impending morning.

"Moly is tired and irritable," Doremus said. "As I told you, she is not accustomed to going out at night."

"I am tired and irritable too," Gundar said, staring at the deserted track that wound endlessly before them. There was still not the slightest sign of the main highway. "I am of a mind to cut a stout stick to encourage this brute to do her duty."

Moly threw up her head, showing the whites of her eyes, and stopped.

"Easy, easy!" Doremus said in his most soothing tone. "He didn't mean it, my darling -- honestly, he did not." He stroked Moly's nose. "Never fear, my dear -- I will let nothing happen to you."

"The brute understands human speech?" Gundar asked.

"After a fashion," Doremus said. "She is very sensitive."

"Then she should know that I will brook no more nonsense from her," Gundar said darkly. "Do you hear that, you brute? No more nonsense, or I will leave your bones to bleach where you stand."

Moly surged forward with unexpected energy, dragging Doremus along with her.

"No, my darling! No!" Doremus cried out. "Please stop! We have an important job to do. Think -- you are carrying a princess! Go gently! When we arrive at the palace, I will find you the choicest stall in the king's stable and feed you a whole bag of Zerillian nuts." Moly slowed and tilted her head towards her master. After much petting and praising and promising, she continued on at her usual pace.

"You must not upset her," Doremus said. "If she bolts, she will be gone for several days -- perhaps forever."

"We must not upset her!" Gundar echoed, his voice squeaking with exasperation. "What manner of beastmaster are you?"

"A better one than you, it appears," Doremus answered imperturbably.

Before Gundar had time to consider how to retaliate for this insult, Moly threw up her head and bawled like an expiring Praxian bull.

"What now?" Gundar snarled.

Scaramouche roused from his sleep and sat up. "Are we there yet?" He cocked his head. "I hear horses."

Gundar listened and heard nothing. "You must have dreamt it."

"Oh no," Scaramouche said. "You will see soon enough."

Gundar lay on the ground to listen, loosening his dagger. Scaramouche was right -- a faint thunder of hoofbeats was approaching.

"Quickly!" Gundar instructed. "We must get off the road and hide! That may be Gallagher's band!"

"They are not expected," Doremus said.

"Who else might it be?" Gundar asked.

Doremus shrugged. "The usual -- simple tourists who have lost their way."

"We cannot take that chance," Gundar said. He grabbed Moly's halter and put all his remaining energy into pulling her in the direction of a great rock. She seemed to sense his urgency, and followed his without undue resistance.

"Thank you," Gundar told her as he re-adjusted the pack once again. "I will not forget that I am in your debt." He felt ridiculous talking to a brute beast, but thought it best to stay on her good side if he could. "Now you must be very, very quiet until we determine if this be friend or foe. Doremus, hold her nose and do not let her make a sound."

Gundar waited breathlessly as the sound of hoofbeats grew stronger. If these were tourists, how would they react to the information that they were had strayed onto a trail to perdition? What would they think of Moly's passengers? And what of Doremus? What deviousness was he plotting?

The horsemen, some twenty or more, crested the rise at a brisk trot.

"The king's men!" Doremus said. "Shall we make ourselves known?"

"No," Gundar said. "Let them pass. If we let them take charge, they will claim all credit for the rescue."

"As you wish," Doremus said. Moly grunted.

"Not a sound! Do you hear me?" Gundar said in his fiercest undertone. "Not a sound!"

He peered out from behind the rock. The horsemen were passing their hiding place now, their pace unchanged. Gundar sighed with relief and let himself sink to the ground. He could indulge himself in a short rest until the soldiers were out of sight. He allowed his eyes to close for a blissful moment . . .

"HELP!"

Gundar jerked to attention. Doremus had dropped Moly's rope and was running towards the horsemen, waving his arms. "Help! Save the princess! The blackguard has kidnapped the princess!"

Gundar leaped to his feet. "LIAR!" he roared, momentarily forgetting himself.

The unexpected noise and movement were too much for Moly. She threw up her head and bellowed. Scaramouche emitted a blood-curdling screech of alarm as his mount bolted, fleeing wildly across the rough countryside.

Gundar stood transfixed, torn between the need to re-capture Moly and the ardent craving to plunge his dagger into Doremus' dastardly heart.