Piers Anthony - Unicorn Point

Clip had divided his forces into three: Fleta was in charge of the defense of the blue flag, with a quarter of the unicorns in a number of guises. Clip was in charge of the attack on the red flag, with another quarter of the Herd. The rest of the ‘corns were scattered between, on their own; they would track individual ogres and try to take them out as opportunity of fered.

Clip hoped that there would be no real action. His attack force consisted not of the best fighters, but the best players. They would charm the ogres into stasis, so that they would not defend their flag. With sufficient luck, the siege would be won almost as it began.

His contingent trotted out, in step. From the distance ahead there was a horrendous roar as the ogre attack force commenced its charge.

The two groups came into sight of each other. The ogres hurled a barrage of rocks. The unicorns stepped aside, with out breaking step, each one dodging the stone that came for him. The aim of the rocks was good, but the range was such that there was plenty of time to see them coming. They thud ded into the ground all around the unicorns, hitting none. Then the formation closed up again. The beat had never fal tered. The ogres hardly cared; they preferred smashing things with their hamfists anyway.

As ogres and unicorns closed, Clip sounded the signal.

There was a pause of four hoofbeats. Then the music started:

Clip’s sax, joined by the other “brass” sounds: trombone, trumpet, bugle, French horn and tuba. The “wood” sounds: piccolo, violin, cello, lute, guitar and harp. The “percus sions”: cymbals, bells, xylophone, chimes and assorted drums. A few stray types, such as organ, music-box and pi ano. All of these terms were necessarily crude, because the human tongue lacked proper descriptions, just as the human instruments lacked proper quality of tone. The unicorn vari ety was more or less infinite, with each individual possessing a sound not quite like any other. A group of ‘corns playing together represented musical expertise unmatched elsewhere. The ogres ground to a halt, their maws gaping in idiotic wonder. Their remaining rocks dropped from flaccid hamfin gers. They listened to the serenade.

The unicorns marched in step, keeping perfect beat, playing their intricate melody. They guided around the standing ogres and went on toward the red flag, unchallenged. Then Neysa changed to her firefly form and flew up and ahead, going straight for the high tree from which the flag fluttered. Clip had decided not to risk a larger flying form, lest it distract the ogres from the music. Indeed, once Neysa was safely aloft, her tiny body lost to view in the distance, he brought the party to a halt. They marched in place, sere nading the ogres. The idea was to hold the ogres’ attention until the flag was safely away.

Neysa reached the flag. It was of course too heavy for her to carry in that form. She lighted on the trunk of the tree below it and changed to human form. Then, clinging with one hand, she reached up with the other to grasp the flag. It didn’t come. Clip, watching while he stepped and played, realized what the problem was: an ogre had tied it in place, and the knot was too tight for a womanform to free one handed. She would have to break off the top of the tree to get it loose.

She tried, but the trunk was too strong. That was understandable; not far below, it was supporting her human weight. She would just have to keep working at the knot; eventually it should come loose.

They continued playing, holding the ogres spellbound. The effect evidently included the ogres farther away, because there was no sound of crashing or roaring anywhere. There was only the serenade.

Neysa managed to climb up a bit farther, and to hold on with her legs. She got her teeth on the knot. Now, reluctantly, it was loosening. Soon she would have it! Suddenly there was the roar of a dragon, horribly loud. For a moment it overrode the music.

The ogres recovered. Their leader roared. Then all of them were roaring, following his example—and the unicorns were drowned out.

Disaster! The ogres, finding the unicorns behind them, wheeled and charged, roaring continuously. The music was no longer effective, because it could not be heard. The unicorns had to get away—and they were almost surrounded. Fortunately Clip had drilled them on a fallback procedure. They formed a compact group, their rears together, their horns pointing outward. The ogres could not readily attack this group without getting homed.

Meanwhile the members of the Herd who were farther back saw the problem. They assumed their manforms and brought out their bows. Soon arrows were annoying the ogres from behind them.

These ogres turned and charged the manforms. They picked their dropped rocks and hurled them, forcing the ‘corns to take cover behind trees. Then, realizing that there was a flag to fetch, the ogres tramped onward, gathering in their forces as they went, becoming a seemingly invincible force. Clip knew that this was no good. His grand ploy had failed and his ‘corns were in danger. Neysa had disappeared; she must have changed back to firefly form when the ogres re sumed action, because any who spied her in the tree could knock her out with a single hurled stone. It was time to look to their own flag!

He set the example. He changed to hawkform and flew quickly up and away. The others did the same; he had had the caution to include in this group only those who had flying forms. The ogres oriented and threw rocks, but the change was so quick that they were too late; few if any escaping ‘corns were caught.

Now they were in for it. The ogres, freed of distraction, were forging toward the blue flag. Fleta had imaginatively set some traps, just in case; when the ogres tramped straight forward, they blundered into a giant pitfall. They promptly proceeded to bash their way out of it, but this brought down a great deal of dirt, halfway burying them, and served to slow them down. Thereafter the ogres made long poles and poked them at the ground ahead, feeling out a safe path. This also slowed them, but not enough.

Manform ‘corns hid behind trees and emerged only to throw spears at the advancing horde. The ogres hurled rocks back, but took losses. Thereafter they kept their hairy arms cocked, ready to throw a rock at any living thing that showed, and the ‘corns had to desist. The ogres advanced. What were they to do? Clip’s best play had failed, and it was clear that the ogres would in time reach the flag and take it down. Was there no stopping them?

It occurred to him, in this hour of desolation, that there had been something funny about that dragon roar that had ruined his ploy of music. There were supposed to be no drag ons here! How could one have roared so loud and close as to drown out the massed unicorns? Where was that dragon? It had never shown up.

Clip ground his teeth. Was it possible that there had been no dragon? That the Adepts had made that sound to ruin his ploy? If so, they had cheated—but how could it be proven? A hummingbird came to him. It became Fleta. “Uncle, I have a plan, a ruse—willst let me try?”

“An thou hast a way, mare, try it!” he agreed.

“But methinks I will need thy help. I will lead an ogre, and thou must dispatch it only when I say. Canst do that?” Just like that: dispatch an ogre! But if the monster were distracted, it was possible.

“Aye.”

“Remember, only when I say, else all be lost. This be one odd ploy.”

Clip became cautious. “Must needs I know more o’ this.”

“I mean to lead it to our flag—“

“That be no problem! They be going there anyway!”

“Ahead o’ the others,” she continued. “And let it take the flag-”

“What?”

“Shortly before thou dost dispatch it.” Oh. Now that he thought about it, he realized that this would make it easier to eliminate the ogre, because it would be thinking only of the flag. Still, it was chancy. “Better to dispatch it before it gets the flag,” he said.