Jeff Crook - The Rose and the Skull

Within a hundred yards of entering the forest, Trevalyn Kesper was bounced from his saddle and landed with a thud in the middle of the road. This was not unexpected, as the Thorn Knights were mages and not used to the rigors of the saddle. His horse continued along its merry way, apparently intending to continue the hunt despite the loss of his rider. He rose and stalked back to the castle.

As the morning progressed, the hunt spread farther and wider throughout the forest. Lord Gunthar found himself alone, having lost his squire at the crossing of a thinly iced stream. Soon he came upon Uhoh trotting back down the trail, a bit of broken leash still in his fist. A nest of leaves and twigs stuck out from his rat-skin cap. "Hello, Papa!" the gully dwarf grinned with dirt-caked teeth. "This some hunt!"

As if in answer, a horn blew wildly somewhere to their left. "There he is!" Gunthar exclaimed. He stopped his mount and allowed Uhoh to clamber up behind him. They heard hounds baying and howling, the sound dwindling in the distance. With Uhoh finally settled in, Gunthar touched spurs to Traveler's sides and charged off down the forest path. The trail was well known to him, for he'd rode it many a time, even at night, so Gunthar was not afraid to allow Traveler his full head. The forest raced by in a blur of speed, wind whistling in their ears.

After a while, Gunthar reined in his mount to listen. Uhoh clung tightly to his waist, almost squeezing the breath from the old man. As they stood on the trail beneath a huge elm tree, Uhoh pointed off to their right. At first Gunthar didn't hear, but then perhaps the hounds drew closer, for he caught, at the edge of hearing, a squire's horn blowing.

"Aha!" he growled.

He was about to give Traveler a spur when Uhoh tugged at his elbow. "No, Papa! No, Papa!" he shouted. "Listen."

Now behind them, another horn was blowing. Then another to their right, and then ahead. All around them hounds bayed, hot on a trail, some moving away, one toward them, one across their path.

"Some mischief is afoot, my boy," Gunthar said to Uhoh. "There can't be this many boars in the forest today."

"Mischief, Papa. Very bad mischief," Uhoh agreed as he renewed his grip on his master.

Gunthar struggled to breathe. Somehow, the forest seemed close and hot, the air too thin, or perhaps it was Uhoh's vicelike hold around his belly. He felt the blood pounding in the veins of his neck, flushing his cheeks. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow.

"Uhoh, loosen up a bit, my boy," he gasped. "Let me catch my breath."

Struggling to breathe, Gunthar urged Traveler ahead, but the horse only took a few hesitant steps. The air seemed to grow thinner by the moment. Gunthar heard Uhoh gasping frantically behind him. It was as though all the air of the forest was being sucked up, devoured, even from their lungs. The sounds of the horns and hounds dwindled and faded, until all they could hear was their own wheezing.

Then they heard it-a woofing and chugging sound, like a gnomish engine broken loose and running berserk through the forest. Twigs cracked and branches snapped, the ground thudded as something hugely dark and menacing bulled through the forest immediately to the left of the path. Gunthar felt it more than he saw it, like a great shadow of evil moving at the edge of sight. A hot fetid air carried a smell wholly wild and untamed to his nostrils. This was a smell he remembered; it rose up, ghostlike, from his childhood memories. He'd smelled it the day his grandfather was slain.

Uhoh whimpered and buried his face in Gunthar's back, while Traveler pranced and whinnied hysterically. Gunthar fought to control his mount, while at the same time fighting to control his own terror. He hadn't really expected to see Mannjaeger this day. The hunt was just an exercise of knightly skills, with the possibility of getting meat for the table. Even to Gunthar, who'd seen his own grandfather slain by the beast, Mannjaeger had always seemed the stuff of legends, a dark figure prowling through the nightmares of his childhood.

The monster passed them by without even turning its head to look at them. It was like some boulder, freed from a mountain side and rolling along, oblivious, elemental, almost ethereal. When it had gone out of sight, Gunthar found his voice, as did Uhoh.

"Hell's bells," the elderly Knight swore.

Uhoh cried, "Oh, bad mischief. Very bad mischief two times!"

Gunthar tightened his grip on his spear and urged his mount down the trail. The forest seemed to close in around them, sending questing roots into the path to trip Gunthar's horse and dangling branches to slap his eye. Before long, their progress brought them back within the spell of thin air surrounding the beast. They heard it chuffing through the undergrowth ahead of them, and the air grew charged with tension and fear, as though they had caught up to a slow moving thunderstorm. It was all Gunthar could do to keep Traveler forging ahead; trained warhorse that he was, he balked at every breaking twig.

The trail turned suddenly and unexpectedly, in a way unfamiliar to Gunthar's experience. He wondered if he hadn't taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way. In any case, he now noticed in the distance ahead an arch of golden light marking the end of the trail. Traveler stepped up when he saw it and began to trot. Gunthar tried to rein him back, but to no avail; the horse seemed desperate to reach the light. Gunthar swore and shouted, tugged and tore at the reins, but Traveler galloped onward, tossing his mane and snorting.

Suddenly, a loop of leafy vine seemed to materialize before them. It hung over the path as perfectly as a trap intentionally set. Traveler easily ducked his head under it, but Gunthar, atop the saddle and encased as he was in stiff armor, could not bend so low. Desperately, he tried to fend off the vine with the shaft of his spear, but his aim was awry from the palsy in his hands. The vine looped under his arm. Gunthar dropped the reins and grabbed the saddle horn, hoping to hold himself in the saddle. The vine stretched taught, creaked, branches snapped overhead, but the great dappled war horse plunged against its pull. It was more than the old man could take. His fingers slipped from the sweaty leather horn. The vine catapulted him from the saddle.

It was very strange, those brief few airborne moments. Gunthar had flown dragonback during the War of the Lance, but even riding a dragon wasn't that much different than riding a horse-if you didn't look down. But this was different. For one thing, he had a gully dwarf crawling over his shoulder. Secondly, he no longer claimed a saddle between his legs, even though his legs retained the saddle shape in mid-air. Thirdly, the moment he realized he was airborne, he could only think of how he might land.

But the flight lasted a few heartbeats at most, hardly enough time to think of a landing. As the ground rushed up at him, Gunthar realized he still had hold of his spear, so he threw it away to keep from landing on it. Uhoh continued to claw and scratch until he was on top of Gunthar's chest. The old man landed flat on his back, and small as the gully dwarf was, Uhoh's weight crushed the air from Gunthar's lungs.

Uhoh screamed. Even after they hit the ground, and even after they'd been on the ground for a while, he continued to scream. He screamed until Gunthar summoned enough strength to push him from his chest, where Uhoh still clung in terror. Slowly, Gunthar sat up, feeling twinges race up and down his spine.

"I'm going to pay for that in the morning," he moaned.

"Very bad mischief," Uhoh whimpered.

"Very bad indeed. Why did you have to land on poor old Papa?" Gunthar asked.

"Uhoh on bottom, very bad," he answered. "Papa two times as big as Uhoh."

"I feel like I've just lost a dragon joust," Gunthar said. He looked around, wincing at the pain of turning his head. "Now where did that crazy horse get to? I thought surely he'd stop when he felt us fall. It isn't like him to rim away."