The Hunt of the Unicorn, Chapter 3
Feb. 22nd, 2012 08:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
minutia_rThe Hunt of the Unicorn
Chapter 3: The Unicorn Leaps the Stream
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Fandom: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci
Characters: Gabriel de Witt, Jed Farleigh, Elijah Pinhoe, Benjamin Allworthy, Molly the Unicorn, original characters
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,400
Summary: "Your mum's an abomination, Jacky Callow," said Elijah, struggling to his knees.
"Elijah? What's happened to you?"
"Not you, clearly." Elijah's lip curled. "Couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."
Seventy years before the events of The Pinhoe Egg, a group of wizards goes shooting on the grounds of Chrestomanci Castle, and there's things abroad in the woods.
Note: The title of this story, as well as the chapter titles, comes from a series of tapestries made in the Netherlands around 1500. I'll be including the relevant tapestry with each chapter, because.
Oh and also: what I know about game shooting I learned in a mad scramble to research this story. Please feel free to correct my ignorance.
This one's for:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
coeurgryffondor.
The unicorn might have answered Gabriel, but just then several things happened at once. Elijah lifted his head and blinked. Gabriel felt the fabric of his hastily-assembled spell begin to tear. The unicorn pricked up its ears and shifted nervously. A stout young man in tweeds crashed into the clearing. "It's the abomination!" he shouted, then looked down at his gun in consternation. Gabriel had been ready this time, and had decided that the powder inside was much too damp to fire.
"Your mum's an abomination, Jacky Callow," said Elijah, struggling to his knees.
"Elijah? What's happened to you?"
"Not you, clearly." Elijah's lip curled. "Couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."
Jacky Callow lowered his gun warily, his eyes narrowing as they went from Elijah to the unicorn to Gabriel. "Huh. Cheek me all you like, boy; I won't be the one getting on Gaffer Farleigh's bad side. What d'you mean, getting Them from That Castle mixed up in this?"
"I beg your pardon," said Gabriel. "I had no intention of becoming involved in your affairs, whatever they are, nor do I believe Elijah intended to involve me in them. I was only searching for a—a friend of mine, who has gone missing." It was all true, and largely irrelevant, but to Gabriel's surprise Callow relaxed and began nodding along.
"Not a good day to be riding in the woods," he said, "but I guess you couldn't help it."
Riding—Gabriel looked at the unicorn again. It was a duller white than it had been; its legs were shorter and its body thicker. More remarkably, it was wearing a saddle and tack, and seemed to have lost its horn.
There was more movement in the trees around. "False alarm," called Callow. "It's just some . . . gentleman and his horse. Seems a member of the shooting party's gone missing, and he's looking for him."
"Her," Gabriel corrected him, but having comfortably classified Gabriel as some . . . gentleman, Callow didn't seem inclined to pay much attention to what he had to say. Two more village types joined them, the tall lanky freckled one of whom bore a strong family resemblance to Elijah.
"Oh aye?" he said. "Best keep with us; you don't know these woods, you'll find yourself getting into mischief. We'll find your friend."
Gabriel looked at the three large, armed men, clustered around him wearing helpful expressions. He didn't look at Elijah or the unicorn, but he could feel the tension of them at his back. "Thank you," he said.
Gabriel found himself—and the unicorn, and Elijah—being steered towards a track, which turned onto a bridle path. He didn't dare try to figure out where he was magically again, but he noticed the usual background noises of the forest start to reappear as they walked: birdsong, and things scurrying underfoot. There hadn't been much time to ask the unicorn questions, but now Gabriel wished he'd made better use of what he'd had. Where had it come from, and why, and why were Mr. Farleigh and his men trying to kill it? He hoped he hadn't joined the wrong side of the quarrel altogether.
I've joined the side that doesn't shoot children, anyhow. The thought wasn't as comforting as Gabriel could have hoped. He was out of his depth, and he knew it.
"This friend of yours, then," said Callow. "What happened?"
"It's Miss Allworthy—Monsignor Allworthy's daughter. She—" Belatedly, Gabriel realized it might not be wise to reveal what he'd guessed about the translocation spell. And wise or not, he didn't care to discuss why Amelia had disappeared either.
He was saved from having to decide what to say by the appearance of a child running up the path, smaller and even grubbier than Elijah. "I got her! The bomashin! She showed up just like Dad said, and I done the jinx he gave me. And she's a real pretty bomashin, with dark curls and a smart shooting jacket and all."
"Norah," said Callow warningly.
"But—" Elijah looked sideways at the unicorn, and bit his lip.
"Amelia," Gabriel's stomach felt cold. "If you people have hurt her . . . ."
"Softly, now." Callow held up a placating hand. "There's been a misunderstanding . . . most likely . . . ." He frowned at Norah. "But we'll sort it out. No one's been hurt, I'm sure."
"Monsignor Allworthy will be very relieved to hear it," said Gabriel. "Shall I call him here, and you can sort it out with him?"
"Don't do that," said Elijah. "Please. Just bring your, your horse back to the stables and I'll get Miss Amelia back, safe and sound. If I don't, you can, you can . . . ."
Elijah, Gabriel had already noticed, had more heroism than sense. His plan would require Gabriel to hand over his responsibility for Amelia to a young boy, and leave Elijah with the people who'd shot him. But assuming Callow was telling the truth—or rather, only lying a little bit—and he didn't mean to hurt Amelia, it might be safer for her to let Elijah retrieve her without interference from anyone from the castle. These men seemed as desperate to keep their secrets as they were to catch the unicorn. Desperate men, Monsignor Allworthy was always saying, were prone to doing stupid things.
Another advantage—from Elijah's point of view—was that by getting Gabriel to leave the woods, Elijah would show himself to be working with Mr. Farleigh's men rather than against them. In the meantime, while they were busy with freeing Amelia from the trap she'd inadvertently sprung, Gabriel would lead the unicorn to safety, and no one would be the wiser.
That aspect of the plan didn't appeal to Gabriel. He generally preferred to be the wiser. But if Monsignor Allworthy never found out that Amelia had been jinxed by a small girl, he would be less inclined to kill Gabriel for it. And since Gabriel had more sense than heroism, his own ignorance was a price he was willing to pay.
"Very well," said Gabriel. "But, Elijah . . . ."
"Don't worry about Miss Amelia," said Elijah. It was more plea than reassurance. "She'll be all right."
Don't you do anything stupid, was what Gabriel wanted to say. But he couldn't think of a way to convey it in front of their audience. He nodded, and turned away, and the unicorn followed.
"Unicorn," said Gabriel, once he was sure the men were out of earshot.
"Molly," said the unicorn.
Of course the unicorn's name was Molly. Gabriel should have known better by now than to have expected something like Hadariel or Light-Breaking-on-Water. "Gabriel de Witt," he said. "I'm honored." He could tell it was true, because he was in an uncomfortable and quite likely dangerous situation. Honors were like that, in Gabriel's experience. "Tell me, what—"
A dog barked nearby. Gabriel jumped and Molly shied, and a dozen partridge broke cover and took to the air. Rifles cracked somewhere in front of them, and from behind a line of men advanced, shouting and waving flags. Molly turned and bolted.
"Wait," Gabriel called, running after her. "It's only the beaters! They don't—" In truth, they might mean Molly harm. But Gabriel could probably have continued the bluff if she hadn't lost her head.
It was too late for that. Gabriel could only run, and try to keep Molly in sight as she dodged between the trees. He heard a stream ahead, and hoped for a moment it might stop her—but there was a sound other than rushing water, a spell worked into the ripples on the surface and the rocks in the stream-bed. He doubted it was friendly. "Stop!" he shouted. He might have saved his breath. Molly didn't slow when she got to the bank. She launched herself across the stream, and disappeared midair.
Gabriel pelted after her. His shoes and the bottoms of his trousers were soaked and muddy by the time he got to the opposite bank, but he couldn't work out what the spell had done, and Molly wasn't there when he climbed out. Mr. Farleigh was, along with a handful of men who made Elijah's hulking relatives look like children.
"I told you," said Mr. Farleigh. "I won't have you mucking things up."
Chapter 3: The Unicorn Leaps the Stream
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Fandom: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci
Characters: Gabriel de Witt, Jed Farleigh, Elijah Pinhoe, Benjamin Allworthy, Molly the Unicorn, original characters
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,400
Summary: "Your mum's an abomination, Jacky Callow," said Elijah, struggling to his knees.
"Elijah? What's happened to you?"
"Not you, clearly." Elijah's lip curled. "Couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."
Seventy years before the events of The Pinhoe Egg, a group of wizards goes shooting on the grounds of Chrestomanci Castle, and there's things abroad in the woods.
Note: The title of this story, as well as the chapter titles, comes from a series of tapestries made in the Netherlands around 1500. I'll be including the relevant tapestry with each chapter, because.
Oh and also: what I know about game shooting I learned in a mad scramble to research this story. Please feel free to correct my ignorance.
This one's for:
coeurgryffondor.The unicorn might have answered Gabriel, but just then several things happened at once. Elijah lifted his head and blinked. Gabriel felt the fabric of his hastily-assembled spell begin to tear. The unicorn pricked up its ears and shifted nervously. A stout young man in tweeds crashed into the clearing. "It's the abomination!" he shouted, then looked down at his gun in consternation. Gabriel had been ready this time, and had decided that the powder inside was much too damp to fire.
"Your mum's an abomination, Jacky Callow," said Elijah, struggling to his knees.
"Elijah? What's happened to you?"
"Not you, clearly." Elijah's lip curled. "Couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."
Jacky Callow lowered his gun warily, his eyes narrowing as they went from Elijah to the unicorn to Gabriel. "Huh. Cheek me all you like, boy; I won't be the one getting on Gaffer Farleigh's bad side. What d'you mean, getting Them from That Castle mixed up in this?"
"I beg your pardon," said Gabriel. "I had no intention of becoming involved in your affairs, whatever they are, nor do I believe Elijah intended to involve me in them. I was only searching for a—a friend of mine, who has gone missing." It was all true, and largely irrelevant, but to Gabriel's surprise Callow relaxed and began nodding along.
"Not a good day to be riding in the woods," he said, "but I guess you couldn't help it."
Riding—Gabriel looked at the unicorn again. It was a duller white than it had been; its legs were shorter and its body thicker. More remarkably, it was wearing a saddle and tack, and seemed to have lost its horn.
There was more movement in the trees around. "False alarm," called Callow. "It's just some . . . gentleman and his horse. Seems a member of the shooting party's gone missing, and he's looking for him."
"Her," Gabriel corrected him, but having comfortably classified Gabriel as some . . . gentleman, Callow didn't seem inclined to pay much attention to what he had to say. Two more village types joined them, the tall lanky freckled one of whom bore a strong family resemblance to Elijah.
"Oh aye?" he said. "Best keep with us; you don't know these woods, you'll find yourself getting into mischief. We'll find your friend."
Gabriel looked at the three large, armed men, clustered around him wearing helpful expressions. He didn't look at Elijah or the unicorn, but he could feel the tension of them at his back. "Thank you," he said.
Gabriel found himself—and the unicorn, and Elijah—being steered towards a track, which turned onto a bridle path. He didn't dare try to figure out where he was magically again, but he noticed the usual background noises of the forest start to reappear as they walked: birdsong, and things scurrying underfoot. There hadn't been much time to ask the unicorn questions, but now Gabriel wished he'd made better use of what he'd had. Where had it come from, and why, and why were Mr. Farleigh and his men trying to kill it? He hoped he hadn't joined the wrong side of the quarrel altogether.
I've joined the side that doesn't shoot children, anyhow. The thought wasn't as comforting as Gabriel could have hoped. He was out of his depth, and he knew it.
"This friend of yours, then," said Callow. "What happened?"
"It's Miss Allworthy—Monsignor Allworthy's daughter. She—" Belatedly, Gabriel realized it might not be wise to reveal what he'd guessed about the translocation spell. And wise or not, he didn't care to discuss why Amelia had disappeared either.
He was saved from having to decide what to say by the appearance of a child running up the path, smaller and even grubbier than Elijah. "I got her! The bomashin! She showed up just like Dad said, and I done the jinx he gave me. And she's a real pretty bomashin, with dark curls and a smart shooting jacket and all."
"Norah," said Callow warningly.
"But—" Elijah looked sideways at the unicorn, and bit his lip.
"Amelia," Gabriel's stomach felt cold. "If you people have hurt her . . . ."
"Softly, now." Callow held up a placating hand. "There's been a misunderstanding . . . most likely . . . ." He frowned at Norah. "But we'll sort it out. No one's been hurt, I'm sure."
"Monsignor Allworthy will be very relieved to hear it," said Gabriel. "Shall I call him here, and you can sort it out with him?"
"Don't do that," said Elijah. "Please. Just bring your, your horse back to the stables and I'll get Miss Amelia back, safe and sound. If I don't, you can, you can . . . ."
Elijah, Gabriel had already noticed, had more heroism than sense. His plan would require Gabriel to hand over his responsibility for Amelia to a young boy, and leave Elijah with the people who'd shot him. But assuming Callow was telling the truth—or rather, only lying a little bit—and he didn't mean to hurt Amelia, it might be safer for her to let Elijah retrieve her without interference from anyone from the castle. These men seemed as desperate to keep their secrets as they were to catch the unicorn. Desperate men, Monsignor Allworthy was always saying, were prone to doing stupid things.
Another advantage—from Elijah's point of view—was that by getting Gabriel to leave the woods, Elijah would show himself to be working with Mr. Farleigh's men rather than against them. In the meantime, while they were busy with freeing Amelia from the trap she'd inadvertently sprung, Gabriel would lead the unicorn to safety, and no one would be the wiser.
That aspect of the plan didn't appeal to Gabriel. He generally preferred to be the wiser. But if Monsignor Allworthy never found out that Amelia had been jinxed by a small girl, he would be less inclined to kill Gabriel for it. And since Gabriel had more sense than heroism, his own ignorance was a price he was willing to pay.
"Very well," said Gabriel. "But, Elijah . . . ."
"Don't worry about Miss Amelia," said Elijah. It was more plea than reassurance. "She'll be all right."
Don't you do anything stupid, was what Gabriel wanted to say. But he couldn't think of a way to convey it in front of their audience. He nodded, and turned away, and the unicorn followed.
"Unicorn," said Gabriel, once he was sure the men were out of earshot.
"Molly," said the unicorn.
Of course the unicorn's name was Molly. Gabriel should have known better by now than to have expected something like Hadariel or Light-Breaking-on-Water. "Gabriel de Witt," he said. "I'm honored." He could tell it was true, because he was in an uncomfortable and quite likely dangerous situation. Honors were like that, in Gabriel's experience. "Tell me, what—"
A dog barked nearby. Gabriel jumped and Molly shied, and a dozen partridge broke cover and took to the air. Rifles cracked somewhere in front of them, and from behind a line of men advanced, shouting and waving flags. Molly turned and bolted.
"Wait," Gabriel called, running after her. "It's only the beaters! They don't—" In truth, they might mean Molly harm. But Gabriel could probably have continued the bluff if she hadn't lost her head.
It was too late for that. Gabriel could only run, and try to keep Molly in sight as she dodged between the trees. He heard a stream ahead, and hoped for a moment it might stop her—but there was a sound other than rushing water, a spell worked into the ripples on the surface and the rocks in the stream-bed. He doubted it was friendly. "Stop!" he shouted. He might have saved his breath. Molly didn't slow when she got to the bank. She launched herself across the stream, and disappeared midair.
Gabriel pelted after her. His shoes and the bottoms of his trousers were soaked and muddy by the time he got to the opposite bank, but he couldn't work out what the spell had done, and Molly wasn't there when he climbed out. Mr. Farleigh was, along with a handful of men who made Elijah's hulking relatives look like children.
"I told you," said Mr. Farleigh. "I won't have you mucking things up."
