After the Downfall

“Well, I see what I can do,” he said, and then, louder, to the sentry: “Where is this unicorn?”

“Who -? Oh, it’s you,” the native said. “Come with me. I’ll take you to him. Do you think you can mount the beast?”

“I don’t know,” Hasso answered. “I want to find out.”

“What will you do if you can ride it?” the sentry persisted.

“Piss off the Lenelli,” Hasso said. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

“More than reason enough, you ask me.” The man gri

Maybe it wasn’t instead. Maybe a unicorn had brought a Lenello wizard up here to see what the Bucovinan army was up to. Maybe he was sending word to Bottero’s army like a forward artillery observer back in Hasso’s world. Maybe… Maybe anything, dammit. Hasso made sure his sword was loose in the scabbard as he walked out to the trees. It wouldn’t do him much good against a Lenello soldier, but it might against a wizard. Those boys would depend on magic till they found out it didn’t work. Hasso sure hoped they would find out it didn’t, anyway.

How were you supposed to call a unicorn? Simple. Make a noise like a virgin. He shook his head. He really was losing it. Not only was the joke weak, it wasn’t even true, not in this world.

He stepped around the trunk of a tree that had been growing there a few hundred years and … there it was. It stared at him out of big black eyes a woman would have killed for.

“Hey,” he said softly – a noise more of recognition than anything else.

In the dim, fading light, that pure white coat seemed to glow even more than it would have under bright sunshine. He saw right away that the unicorn was wild; it had never borne a Lenello wizard on its back. It was unshod. No one had gilded or silvered its horn or braided its mane and tail. It had no saddle or reins.

“Hey,” he said again, a little louder. He had a bit of honeycomb – a treat for his horse. He held it out to the unicorn. “Here you go. What do you think of this?”

He watched its nostrils dilate as they took the scent of the honeycomb – and, no doubt, his scent, too. Did magic have an odor? How could a unicorn tell a wizard if it didn’t? Maybe the way Aderno did: by magic.

Slowly, cautiously, the unicorn approached. It took the honeycomb with as much delicacy as a cat would have taken a bit of fish. Its mouth and breath were warm and moist against Hasso’s palm. After it finished, it looked at him as if wondering whether there was more. He reached out to stroke its nose. It let him do that. It felt like fine velvet under his fingers.

“Sorry,” he said. “That’s all I’ve got with me. There’s more back at the camp, though, if you want to give me a lift.”

It couldn’t possibly have understood him … could it? It was just a beautiful animal… wasn’t it? What did he know about unicorns? Not bloody much. What he knew about this one was that it knelt and gave him an inviting look.

He wasn’t a terrible horseman, but he’d never ridden bareback before. He’d never ridden an animal without reins and a bit, either. The Lenello wizards didn’t do that – he’d seen as much. If he tried it and it turned out not to be what the unicorn had in mind, he was in a ton of trouble. But the last invitation more definite than this one he’d had was the one Velona gave him after he shot the Grenye who were chasing her.

Yeah, and look how that turned out, his mind gibed. But you couldn’t win if you didn’t bet. He got on the unicorn’s back and patted the side of its neck. It rose to its feet as easily as if he didn’t weigh a thing.

“Wow,” he said, and then, “Come on. This way.” He pointed over toward the encampment, and damned if the unicorn didn’t head in that direction.

The horse the Bucovinans had given him was a plodder. This … This was like riding lightning and fire. The unicorn’s hooves hardly seemed to touch the ground. He knew they must have, but they didn’t seem to.

When he came out of the little wood, the sentry’s jaw dropped. “Lavtrig’s dick!” he exclaimed. “You did it!”

“How about that?” Hasso knew he was gri

As usual, the camp was a raucous place. He could tell just when the Bucovinans spotted him, because silence rippled out and through the place. People turned and looked his way, till all he saw were thousands of staring faces, all with wide eyes, most with mouths fallen open.

He waved to the natives. “To victory!” he called. If he could have figured out how to say In hoc signo vinces! in Bucovinan, he would have done that.

To victory! seemed to do the trick. In a heartbeat, everybody was yelling it.

The unicorn sidestepped nervously, but calmed down when he patted it again. He didn’t plan on leading a wild cavalry charge – his place was back with the artillery – but he had one hell of a mount under him.

Of course, he’d thought the very same thing with Velona, too.

When Rautat came over to congratulate him on bringing back the unicorn, the beast snorted angrily, lowered its head, and aimed its horn at the underofiicer’s midriff. “Hey!” Hasso said.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Rautat said. He also backed off in a hurry, which made the unicorn relax.

“Cut that out, you,” Hasso told the animal. It turned its head and looked back at him as if to say, Who’s the boss here, anyway? And it knew the answer, too – it was. Could you train a unicorn? Could you convince it that you were the boss? If you could, Hasso hadn’t started doing it yet – and he didn’t know how, anyway.

He did know he wasn’t about to put up with the unicorn’s doing anything like that to Drepteaza. To his surprise, it didn’t even start. It stood quietly and let her come close.

“Boy, I like that!” Rautat said. “What’s she got that I don’t?” He snickered, coming up with his own obvious answer to that. Drepteaza bent down, picked up a pebble, and threw it at him. The unicorn let out a snuffling noise and bobbed its head, as if to say he had it coming.

“Go get some more honeycomb,” Hasso told the underofficer. “I promised, and maybe that makes it put up with you.” Rautat nodded and scurried away.

“Do you – do you think I could touch it?” Drepteaza asked.

“I don’t know,” Hasso answered. “You can try – but be ready to get out of the way in a hurry if it doesn’t want you to.” Without bit, reins, and stirrups, he had next to no control over the unicorn. If it decided to rear, for instance, all he could do was grab its mane and hang on for – literally – dear life.

Eyes wide and shining, Drepteaza stepped up alongside the unicorn. She reached out and set her palm on the side of its neck. “Oh,” she whispered. “It’s like … I don’t know what it’s like. But it’s wonderful. It’s – more finely woven than a horse, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” That was a better way of putting it than Hasso had found for himself.

“Thank you,” she told him, and moved away. Had Velona been standing there, she would have been wild to ride the animal. Drepteaza was sure she couldn’t, and didn’t try.

Hasso suddenly wasn’t so sure himself. He slid down from the unicorn’s back. “Wait!” he called to Drepteaza. She stopped. A few quick strides brought him over to her. She let out a startled squawk when he picked her up. It was easy – she couldn’t have weighed more than forty-five kilos.

“What are you doing?” she said. But she needed only a moment to realize exactly what he was doing. “No! Stop! You can’t! The unicorn won’t let you! The unicorn won’t let me -”

And, sure enough, the unicorn looked extremely dubious when Hasso started to put Drepteaza on its back. “Cut that out!” he said again. “She’s not going to hurt you. Nobody’s going to hurt you.” He still didn’t think the unicorn could understand him, but he wasn’t a hundred percent sure it couldn’t.