Piers Anthony - Unicorn Point

Then the man of her interest had returned, and Clip had departed speedily and quietly. It was understood that neither of them would ever tell others of this matter; it had been purely a private thing, of no larger significance. He had never had a relationship with another human girl, but he remembered that one with fondness. Of course it had not been as good with her as with any true mare, but it had been good enough, and he had liked her. So now he respected his niece for having the courage to do openly what was normally done secretly, and to fight for her right to her relationship despite the condemnation of her dam and most others. Neysa, of course, had been far more straight-maned about it. It was not the fact of interspecies action that bothered her, for she herself had had an affair with the Adept Stile before he married the Lady Blue. It had been the openness of it, and the insistence that it be legitimized. Fleta had wanted to marry the rovot: a deed virtually unknown among unicorns, and certainly not appropriate miscegenously. That was the difference between Clip and his sister: she was more conser vative, and held more closely to the old values, flawed as they might be. It was understood that a stallion would take whatever sexual experience he could get, but that a mare would indulge outside of heat only for extraordinary reason, and then would be discreet. Indeed Neysa had been discreet; among unicorns, only he, her brother, knew for certain how close she had been to Stile.

Fleta, with Stile’s son, had been discreet. But then with the rovot she had been blatant, and that was the essence of her crime. Yet later she had proven that it could be done: that offspring was possible. That had been a shock to all ofPhaze, and values were still quivering. Now with Neysa’s change of heart, Fleta was accepted, and applauded for her courage and her achievement. Indeed, the exploits of the colt Flach had charmed them all, as he defied both parents and Adepts and remained hidden despite their worst efforts. There was true unicorn stubbornness.

Now, of course, they were fighting to recover Flach from captivity by the Adepts. Fleta might seem to be the bubbling, cheerful young creature of old, but she was not; the years of her separation from her foal had sobered her. She had wanted him to stay free, knowing how vitally that helped Stile’s cause, but she had also wanted him with her. Such inner conflict was not kind to individuals, even tough unicorns. They ran into the sunset, eyes on the ground, making what time they could while light remained. Unicorns could see well enough at night, but this was unfamiliar terrain, and when the darkness closed they would have to slow to a safe walk.

Fleta began to play a little duet on her horn, from the sheer exuberance of the sensation of freedom lent by the hour. Her hooves carried the beat. Oh, yes, it was nice music, her pan pipes! Each note was simple, but the combination was spe cial. When she played the two very similar notes there was a beat, not of the hooves but of the merging themes. Surely the rovot had been entranced by this, as by her other virtues. They slowed, proceeding onward toward the west, finding the open regions by sight and sound and smell. The air grad ually cooled, and the stars came out. It was surprisingly nice. Clip remembered his travels with Belle, the most beautiful of mares, with the iridescent mane and the sound of ringing bells. She had become his first true love, and remained so as he mastered his Herd. Of course now he had many mares to service, and she was busy with her fourth foal, but the bond between them had never been broken; she would always be his lead mare. In the early years they had had to avoid Herds and travel by night, but it had been no chore. They had played such lovely music together!

So it went, that night, a pleasure of reminiscences, as they approached the Ogre Demesnes. By dawn they were there—and by the smell, nearing an ogre family. They centered on it, tracking the odor, until they came upon it: a ponderous male, a horrendously ugly female, and a homely cub. The male was bashing a dead tree apart, while the female and cub were shaking out the big fragments and catching the vermin in them: roaches, mice, toads and snakes. A fine ogre meal was in the making.

But all three paused the moment the two unicorns came into sight. It took several seconds for the male to come to a conclusion, but it was the expected one. He roared, and lum bered toward this new prey.

Actually, two fit unicorns should have been a match for two grown ogres. But that was not Clip’s purpose in coming here. He stood his ground and played his horn. The mellowness of it spread out almost visibly, touching the ogres. Would they listen?

They paused, cocking their gross ears. Their expressions shifted slowly from rage in the male and surprise in the female and curiosity in the cub to universal perplexity. Beauty of any nature was foreign to ogres; they did not know what to do with it. Perhaps somewhere in their dim ancestry there had been a trace of it, and a suggestion of that awareness remained, a useless vestige that had not yet been properly bred out of the species.

Then the male shook it off, and prepared to roar again, to property renew his attack.

Fleta began to play, accompanying Clip’s melody. Her pan pipes augmented his saxophone timbre nicely, and the result was extraordinarily pretty.

The ogres paused again, their perplexity deepening to virtual wonder. This time the male did not shake it off; two musicians overwhelmed his single mind. It seemed that the tableau would remain as long as the music continued. Clip decided to test this further. Still playing, he advanced on the male, ready to move quickly if the ogre snapped out of it. Fleta followed, maintaining her harmony. Clip came right up to the male, and the male did not move.

Slack-jawed, the ogre listened, immobile. This was better than anticipated!

Finally Clip essayed the ultimate: he actually nudged the male ogre with the tip of his horn. The creature did not react. That sufficed. Music was the key to the control of ogres! If just two players were enough to entrance an ogre family, think what an entire Herd Orchestra could do! Clip signaled Fleta with a twitch of his horn. They retreated, never breaking off their duet. Then, at a safe distance, they ended the music.

The ogres shook their heads as if coming out of a trance. The male blinked, spied the unicorns, and opened his mouth to roar.

Immediately Clip and Fleta resumed playing. The ogre paused in mid-gape, as before.

They moved away, continuing their playing, until they were well clear of the ogre family. This had been a most successful experiment!

They headed back east. They were tired, but did not want to rest in unfamiliar country, away from the Herd. But they did not hurry; a regular walk was good enough. After a while, Fleta assumed her hummingbird form and perched on Clip’s head, resting. Three hours later, they ex changed: she resumed ‘corn form while he became a hawk and rode her head. Thus they were able to take turns resting and sleeping, without losing time.

In the afternoon they encountered the Herd. Neysa had kept it moving forward at a leisurely pace, so that any watching Adepts would not notice anything odd. There was even a small bird riding her head, that might be taken for a hummingbird from a distance, while a hawk rode another unicorn. Thus even the absence of the two was tacitly accounted for.

They changed to human form and walked while they told Neysa what had happened. They had a tool to use against the ogres!

Clip went out to meet the chief ogre at the start of the siege. “May the best team win,” Clip said, assuming man form.

“Arrrgh!” the ogre roared, taking a swipe at him. The formal amenities accomplished, they retreated to their groups. The siege was on.