The Serpent and the Unicorn: Books I and II

Chapter 11

For two days they followed the stranger into the uttermost east of the world. At last, on the rocky shores of the Eastern Sea, they watched him disappear into a menacing old castle perched high upon a sea cliff. Tristan used the utter darkness as cover to explore the outer walls of the castle, for happily the moon had not yet risen; he could see men upon the battlements above and hoped none glimpsed him as he crept along the wall, seeking some means of entrance. The front gate was undoubtedly barred against intruders, and he highly doubted that knocking politely would avail him. Suddenly he heard voices coming up behind him, he sought in vain for somewhere to conceal himself and reached for his sword, knowing it was too late. He saw one of the men raise a frightful looking club as he grasped his sword hilt, but as the blade slid free of its sheath, his vision blurred and he stumbled forward, suddenly dizzily. His fingers grew numb and unresponsive; the blade fell uselessly to the ground. Tristan fell forward just as the club landed squarely on the back of his head, darkness seized him and he knew no more.

"Good hit Brom," snapped the man without the club.

"Thank you Pratt," grinned Brom stupidly, "I try."

"Who do you think he is?" asked Pratt.

"Dunno," said Brom, "but he won't be telling us neither."

"What do you mean?" growled Pratt.

"I think I broke his neck," said Brom in distress, "he's not breathing!"

Pratt rushed to the side of the sprawled figure, vainly seeking for a pulse, "the general is not going to like this! This guy is lucky though, he wouldn't've liked his welcome inside. The general will have questions and we don't have any answers. Come on, maybe he has something on him that will give us some idea where he came from or who he was." Together they lifted Tristan's prone form and dragged it into the castle.

They searched his pockets and belt pouch but found nothing but a few coins, some well-worn but nondescript clothes, and a spare bowstring. Pratt whistled as he looked at Tristan's torso, "whoever he was, he sure has been through something! Look at all them scars." A variety of scars crisscrossed his chest and arms, acquired in over a century of service to the Brethren.

Just then the door swung open and an important looking man stalked in, scowling. "What is so important that it must interrupt my meeting?" growled the general.

"We found this bloke sneaking around outside and thought you should know," said Pratt meekly.

"Has he told you anything useful?" demanded the general.

"He isn't exactly speaking," said Pratt, "or breathing for that matter. He took a nasty blow to the head."

The general snarled in irritation, "has your search revealed anything useful?" They shook their heads. "Then why are you bothering me and wasting time?" hissed the general, "He might have friends out there! I want every available man to comb the area and capture his colleagues, alive."

"What about him?" asked Brom at a very bad time.

"I do not care what you do with the corpse so long as it does not bother me," shouted the general, as he stormed out of the dungeons.

Brom looked dimly at Pratt, who said, "dump the body in the refuse cart, I'll dispose of it after we search the area. We had better get moving and wake the guard!" Every available man was roused from his bed or taken off the walls and put to work combing the darkness for any reinforcements, leaving the general alone in the courtyard with three cloaked men.

Tristan woke slowly, as if from a long sleep. He sat on the ground, well padded with spongy moss, around him the boles of ancient pines lifted their hoary heads high into the sunshine, though around him only scattered patches of light brightened the forest floor. It was pleasantly warm, though there was a hint of autumn coolness in the late morning air; somewhere behind him a chattering brook played merrily over its stony bed. He turned his head and saw what had awakened him: a unicorn stood gazing at him longingly. He recognized her immediately as Aria, the mare that had traded her life for his. If she was here, then...