Demeron: A Horse's Tale (The Disinherited Prince Series)

by Guy Antibes

  “Before you can master that horse, if such a thing is even possible, your time among us will have passed, and you will be dead,” the Elder said. She flicked her finger to the stable master. “Let the horse go.” She turned to Demeron. “You need to leave us, and I suggest that you leave Tishiko. There are those who would kill to possess you.” She shook her head. “I am not one of them, but you and your master should never set foot in Tishiko. Only bad things will happen to you if you get caught up in the factions. We are the Black Scorpions, and even I wouldn’t be able to stop my group from misusing a horse with your powers. I shudder to think what you could do if you had any idea of the power that you possess.”

  Demeron made long eye contact with the woman and used his hoof to write ‘Deftnis’ in the dirt.

  Karo looked at the scratching. “He wrote Deftnis.”

  “The monastery?” the Elder said. She knelt down and rubbed her chin with the back of her hand. “He has been to that place?”

  Karo nodded. “That is where he was from.”

  The Grand Master nodded, and then put up her hand, palm outward, to Demeron. “I am not your enemy. You have taken some of my magic, and that makes you more unique than you know, horse. Leave the city by the main road north. There is an old man named Kijiro. He lives by the side of the road and heals travelers. Seek him out. It is said he can communicate with any horse, and it may well be true. He knows the way to Deftnis, or at least out of Shinkya. Be careful in all your dealings with Shinkyan humans. I should know, even with Kijiro.”

  The youth grabbed the Elder’s wrist. “He is too great a treasure to give up! I will tell the Queen.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort, Ayri,” she said through clenched teeth. “If you want to take another breath, you will let go of my hand and keep your tongue in that hot head of yours.”

  He threw her hand away, forcing her to wrench her body. Demeron rushed forward and pushed the boy to the ground with his nose.

  “See what good manners this horse has?” the Elder said, chuckling. She looked up at Demeron and gave him a rueful smile. With sadness in her eyes, she said, “May we never meet again. Now, go!”

  Demeron didn’t need any further prompting and trotted out of the paddock and back along the alley to the street. He took a shuddering breath to calm his nerves. He figured it would take some time to absorb all the meanings of his encounter with the Black Scorpions, but he would have the time as he traveled to Deftnis.

  As day turned to night, Tishiko’s foot and mounted traffic began to thin. Demeron tried to keep close to carts and other horses. He kept the setting sun on his left as he moved towards the north, leaving the tall towers and larger buildings behind. The streets again took on the same aspect as when he had entered early in the morning.

  A heavy smell of horses stopped him. A particular scent caught at him, reminding him of Amble’s specific smell. He turned right and soon entered a large square made up of a number of animal pens.

  Demeron didn’t think humans would want so many animals in the city center, so he figured that he had just about made it all the way through Tishiko.

  He followed his nose and identified a horse lot. There were a number of horses milling around, and none of them looked very happy or very healthy. He whinnied and sent out a call for Amble. It didn’t take long for the familiar golden horse to trot over to him.

  “This isn’t a very good place to find a good master,” Demeron said.

  He could see the haunted look in her eyes that he thought had ended on their trip to Tishiko.

  “Come with me, Amble. You can do better than this. None of these horses are headed for good masters. Those kinds of humans won’t be looking here for a good horse, much less a Shinkyan mare.”

  She lowered her head and sounded sorrowful. “I didn’t travel the streets of Tishiko very intelligently. A mounted human looped a thick rope around my neck soon after I arrived.”

  “And you didn’t fight him off,” Demeron said, already knowing her answer.

  Amble didn’t say anything, but looked away.

  “I’ll save you again. Stand back.”

  Demeron reared up and began pounding on the fence, which broke quickly under his weight.

  “Quickly. Let the humans catch the other horses. They will be easier to capture,” Demeron said, as he led her through streets and alleys until they reached a road heading northward.

  “We will find an old human who I was told knows the way to Deftnis.”

  Amble, who had been keeping up with him stopped. “You trusted what a human told you?”

  Demeron nodded his head. “I did. I’ll tell you all about it, but we have to leave the city, first. Don’t dawdle like a colt, or you’ll wind up back in that pen.”

  Amble shook her mane. “One pen or another. Maybe the new one will be better than the old. It couldn’t be much worse,” she said.

  “Follow me,” Demeron said and began trotting. He heard her hoofs clatter on the pavement behind him. Buildings began to flash past, and soon the space between the Shinkyan dwellings grew larger and larger until they were out of the city.

  Demeron finally stopped and looked back at the golden glow of torchlight in Tishiko. Bluish magician lights lit the tall towers that he had passed hours ago in the city center.

  “I won’t miss it,” Demeron said.

  Amble watched along with him. “I won’t find a decent master.”

  “Yet,” Demeron said. “There are a lot of good masters at Deftnis.”

  She snorted. “You expect me to believe you?”

  “I won’t ask you to trust me, but I speak the truth. There are masters that aren’t as good, but no horses are mistreated. I know that for a fact.”

  “I guess I’m willing to leave certain mistreatment for the hope of a better life.”

  Demeron shook his head. “Then let’s find the old man.” He trotted off into the gathering darkness.

  ~

  Demeron approached a building lit up inside by torchlight. Amble stayed behind in the darkness of a nearby cluster of trees.

  He heard raucous voices and the scratchings of human music. The cacophony always irritated him. He peeked through many-paned windows and didn’t see any old men.

  They went further up the road, and Amble spotted a blue magician’s light up ahead. They came to a modest house bounded by a low fence of trimmed sticks. This looked more like a healer’s place. Demeron had been ridden to healers before, and they seemed to live in more modest circumstances.

  He whinnied until the door opened. A bent-over human with a wispy beard peered out into the inky dark.

  “Who is there?”

  Amble whinnied.

  Demeron projected his thoughts. Two horses in need of direction, he said.

  “Horse you say?” the human said.

  Yes. You can hear me?

  The human nodded his head and stood up quite a bit straighter. “I am a magician-healer. More healer than magician, I guess. What brings you to my door?”

  We need directions to Deftnis Monastery.

  The human shook his head. “I don’t know of any such thing.”

  It is not in Shinkya, Demeron said. It is on the southern shore of the Empire.

  The human pointed north. “The Dukedoms?”

  You know the Empire?

  After an unintelligible grumble the human said, “I’ve never been there, but you can’t follow the Shinkyan coast to get there.”

  Why not? Amble said.

  “Ah, both of you are Shinkyan horses? My eyes aren’t what they once were.”

  Demeron nodded. We have lost our masters. He lied about Amble, but the human didn’t need to know they were both on the run.

  “There is a vast swamp at the western border with Finster. You have to go straight north from here, and then when you cross into Finster, you travel along the northern edge of the swamp until the land dries out, and then you can follow the coast. Do you understand anything I have said?” />
  Amble shook her head, but Demeron knew what the man spoke of. He had traveled through wetlands before, something that Amble probably never had.

  Thank you. I can find Deftnis with the information you gave us.

  The human scratched his thinning white hair. “Is there something you can do for me?”

  If it is within our power.

  The old man smiled. “In the wood is a tree that has recently fallen down. Could I hitch you up to a rope and let you pull it out?”

  Demeron wouldn’t allow a rope to confine him, but he nodded. You tie it to the tree and I will pull it out with my teeth.

  “I can understand why you won’t trust me. That is a good instinct. Very well.”

  He disappeared into his house and returned with a thick rope. He walked out from the fence around his house and led them into a small group of trees. Demeron spotted the fallen limb. It didn’t look overly heavy to him. The human tied one end to the lower end of the fallen tree and spread out the rope.

  Demeron bent over and smelled horse scent on the rope. His heart sank as he recognized a trap. He created a shield like he had done in Tishiko and grabbed the rope with his teeth. He suddenly felt a wave of magic assault his brain.

  Amble stood still, but Demeron walked to the human. I am immune to your tricks.

  The old man’s eyes widened as he backed away from Demeron. “You can’t resist my spell,” he said. It seemed like he said it more to himself than to Demeron.

  Oh, I can. Release Amble, the other horse. My payment for the information will be to leave your human body intact.

  “You can’t think that way. I have never—”

  You have now, Demeron said. Release her.

  He nudged the human with his nose.

  Amble shook her head. “I waited for further instructions from him,” she said to Demeron.

  “We have the information we seek,” Demeron said as he pressed his nose into Amble’s flank to move.

  As for you, old man, I think you’ve finally met a horse that was your match. You might find the next one not so kind.

  The man didn’t move as Demeron led Amble to the road and began to trot for some minutes before he slowed down. Demeron could feel that the effort to make the shield had cost him some strength.

  “What happened back there?”

  Demeron neighed. “I didn’t tell you that I became a magician in Tishiko.”

  He could hear the scoffing in Amble’s voice. “Horses don’t do magic.”

  “This one does,” Demeron said. “From what the Magician Grand Master inferred, I think it has something to do with my master and the way he bonded. I was able to shield myself from the old man’s magic.”

  “And I was his to command,” Amble said. “Maybe he would be a good master.”

  “Until he sold you. He didn’t have a stable. Didn’t you notice?” Demeron said. “But I think he gave us good directions. Straight north until we’ve passed the border, and then stay to the north of a huge swamp.”

  Amble snorted, “But he could have lied.”

  “Why?” Demeron said. “He had no reason to. The human thought he would be on his way back to Tishiko with two valuable Shinkyan horses.”

  “There is that,” she said.

  “Yes, there is.”

  They traveled through the night and stopped by a small stream. There were human signs all over the place, but none had stayed at the place to spend the night. They drank deeply and found enough grass to eat.

  “You’re not as hungry as I am,” Amble said, as she continued to feed.

  “I had a full bucket of grain at midday,” Demeron said. “You probably haven’t eaten at all.”

  “Not even water.” Amble walked back over to the spring and took another drink. “Is it safe to spend the night?”

  “Yes,” Demeron said. “We’ll keep a watch like humans do.”

  As dawn brightened up the campsite, Amble nudged Demeron awake. “It’s time to leave.”

  Demeron blinked his eyes and nodded. “It is.”

  ~

  They traveled for a week, heading north the entire time. They kept away from the road as much as possible and found enough to eat. The land became dry at one point. Human habitation forced them to head east towards the mountains that loomed at the horizon to their right.

  They spent the night in a little draw with a small stream fed by a spring. The feed was sparse but untouched by other grazers. Demeron woke to the sound of howling. More wolves, he thought. He could smell Amble’s fear.

  “You can defeat wolves. They will nip and bite and try to lock their jaws on your hide to drag you down. With the two of us working together, we will defeat them,” Demeron said. “I fought a pack of wolves by myself and lived to tell the tale.”

  Amble licked the scars on his flank. “They left evidence,” she said.

  “You have scars left by a bad master. Your fight was different from mine, but it was a fight, nevertheless.”

  Amble nodded. “I’ve never fought together with another horse.”

  “You will tonight. When a wolf bites you, I will use my teeth and my hooves to get him off. You do the same for me. They will get tired and slow. Then you slam your hoof into their head and that should be enough. Sleep standing. We will keep watch all night long.”

  She had finally begun to sleep. Demeron paced back and forth, all his senses sharp. He wouldn’t be caught unawares.

  Demeron watched Amble sleep and wondered where he got the impulse to fight alongside her. He realized that he had taken on the role of master, regardless if she accepted him or not. Like a good master, he vowed to protect her.

  The sky began to lose its depth as dawn approached. The wind shifted, and as expected, wolves were close by.

  He shouted at Amble in his mind. She stirred and bolted her legs. “Are they here?”

  “Soon. We will face each other and wait.”

  Both of them stood until the edge of day brushed the scraggly trees at the top of the east side of the little valley. With the sun, Pol heard the wolves growl. There were three of them in a small pack.

  “They come. There are three, as far as I can tell,” Demeron said. He knew he could take care of three, but if Amble had wandered into the draw by herself, he doubted that she could concentrate long enough to defeat the wolves.

  Amble’s lips drew back from her teeth, and she whinnied as she must have smelled the attackers. Demeron heard a howl, followed by three more. Four wolves! He began to prance in the small space with nervousness. Amble’s nerves had rooted her to the spot.

  “You can’t just stay there,” Demeron said. “Come to me.”

  “I’m afraid,” Amble said.

  “I am, too,” Demeron said, lying to encourage the mare. “Come to me. Prance a little. If you are moving they won’t get as good a hold on you.”

  Amble moved her forelegs a little, and then she began to dance like Demeron. They kept each other in sight as the wolves shot into the clearing.

  Two of them headed towards Demeron. He began to move towards a large jumble of rocks, as one of the wolves leapt onto his side. He slammed the wolf into the rock and quickly pounded his front hooves into the attacker.

  Amble whinnied as the other two of the wolves attacked her at once. Demeron galloped to her side and clamped his mouth on one wolf’s neck and pulled it off. The other was hanging onto Amble’s flank, so Demeron reared up by her side and swept the wolf away with his forelegs.

  He felt a weight land on his back. The last wolf growled as it bit into Demeron’s hide. He began to bolt and was about ready to roll over when Amble began biting the wolf again and again. The growling turned into whimpers and the weight disappeared.

  Amble chased the wolf to the same rock jumble where one of the wolves lay still. It swiped at Amble’s legs with his claw, but Amble raised up just enough to put her weight into one crushing blow.

  “We’re both hurt,” she said.

  Demeron could hardly feel
anything except for the stickiness of blood on his coat and the lack of wind. He breathed heavily and blew out foam that had developed in his mouth.

  As he checked each wolf, he felt Amble’s tongue on his back.

  You’re bleeding a lot. Let’s go to the water,” she said.

  For the rest of the morning, they did what they could to wash the blood off their bodies and lick their wounds. The spring turned red from their many trips to rinse out their mouths, until it finally cleared out.

  “You fought well,” Demeron said as they rested.

  “I was afraid the entire time,” Amble said.

  “It’s all right to be afraid. I was anxious a few times,” Demeron said. “We defeated them. Not all horses can say the same.”

  “Any horse would react like we did.”

  Demeron shook his head, letting his mane sway. “How many fights have you seen?”

  “None,” Amble said.

  “Horses don’t fight together,” Demeron said. “Most horses will flee if attacked. It’s a basic instinct. When two of them attacked me, I think they expected you to flee, leaving all four to bring me down. Wolves are smart, but not as smart as Shinkyan horses.”

  “You’re right. They didn’t attack me at first.”

  “They waited for you to run away. When you didn’t, they attacked you.”

  Amble took a drink from the spring. “We did well.”

  Demeron smiled inside when he heard Amble say ‘we’.

  Around midday, they headed north again. Demeron could feel his injuries, and that bothered him. They stopped early at one of the little springs that popped up along the base of small foothills on the east side of Shinkya.

  He saw a clump of grass and was so weary that he didn’t bother to look at what he ate.

  “I’m going to lie down for a bit,” Demeron said.

  Amble nudged him with her nose. “I think we can both do with a rest.”

  Demeron awoke with a shiver. “Something’s wrong,” he said.

  Amble raised her head. “You are shaking. I’ve never seen you do that before.”

  “I feel wrong inside.” Demeron rose to his feet and shuffled to the little spring and took a drink of water.