The Secret Of The Unicorn Queen - Swept Away

by Josephena Sherman

“I’m Darian, Pleased to meet you, Sheila.”

  “Pleased to meet you, too, Darian.”

  They solemnly shook hands, then burst out laughing. “Friends?” the boy asked.

  “Friends,” agreed Sheila. “Ah . . . why are you staring at my wrist?”

  “That bracelet you’re wearing—It’s moving!”

  Sheila glanced down at herself and laughed. “That’s just my Mickey Mouse watch.”

  She had to say Mickey Mouse watch in English, of course, and Darian gave her a blank stare. “Magic,” he said at last.

  “It’s not magic, it’s just a way to tell time.”

  “Tell it what?”

  “Very funny. This is a device to let you know what time of the day it is.” Assuming, of course, she added to herself, that this world has the same twenty-four-hour day as mine!

  “The sun tells you that.”

  “Suppose it’s a cloudy day?”

  Darian grinned and shrugged. “You’ve got a point. But if that-that ‘watch’ isn’t magic, how does it work?”

  “You wind this little knob, and gears turn, and-“

  “Yes, but how does it work?”

  “Well . . .” It dawned on her that she really didn’t know; a watch was just one of those things you took for granted. She sighed

  “All right. Call it magic.”

  “Fine!” His grin widened. “You’re lucky you found us when you did. When we were stopping for a day, I mean, to give the unicorns a chance to rest. That gives you time to get the feel for riding.”

  “In only a day?”

  “It shouldn’t take longer. They’re easier to sit than horses. You’ll see.”

  Darian’s voice was casual. Of course, realized Sheila. This world didn’t have any automobiles or subways or any­thing like that.

  Everybody here would take horseback rid­ing very much for granted.

  “Now,” said Darian cheerfully, “let’s see about getting you a unicorn.”

  Sheila suddenly felt someone watching her, looked up to see Dian staring at her, dark eyes filled with rage. Great, thought Sheila. She’s Darian’s girlfriend, and now she thinks I’m trying to steal him! Well, she couldn’t worry about that right now. “How do you go about getting a unicorn?”

  “Well, you don t exactly. You wait until one of them picks you.”

  “What happens if none of them wants me?”

  Darian looked at her in dismay. “But they will. They must.”

  Sheila thought about being left here, in the middle of nowhere, and shuddered. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Here, we’re far enough away from camp now. Sit.”

  “Wait, where are you going?”

  “I’ll be back, don’t worry. Just sit.”

  “And ...?”

  “And wait.”

  With a wave of his hand, he hurried off, and Sheila was left all alone. Wondering if this was Darian’s idea of a practical joke, she sat. And sat. And sat. It was growing really dark now, and chilly, and she was beginning to re­alize it had been a long time since she had last eaten. She looked at her watch. Just a few minutes more and she was going to give up on the whole thing and-

  Something warm and soft brushed her cheek. Sheila yelped, and something large let out a startled “Whuff!” and jumped aside. Then it moved warily forward again, and the girl held her breath. A unicorn! More than that. This was a lovely young unicorn mare, reaching down to sniff delicately at Sheila’s face.

  “Oh, you beautiful thing!”

  The mare seemed to like that. She pushed gently at Sheila’s shoulder, then suddenly folded her legs and lay down beside Sheila, resting her head in the girl’s lap.

  “Oh. You-you’ve chosen me, haven’t you?” Wonderstruck, she stroked the silken coat, and the unicorn gave a faint, contented sigh. Even in the fading light, Sheila could see that the unicorn was a lovely creamy-white, with a black mane, tail, andnslim, elegant horn. Her big blue eyes were shaded by long white lashes. As the mare got to her feet again, Sheila saw that all four legs were black, too, from hoofs to knees: markings like that were called stockings, she remembered, on horses anyhow.

  “Hey, great!” Darian’s voice said suddenly. “This is the sister to my own unicorn, Wildwing. Be nice to her, eh?” he toldnthe mare, who whuffled at him.

  “Isn’t she beautiful, Darian? But what’s her name?”

  He laughed. “Who knows what unicorns call each other? You’ll have to name her yourself. Don’t worry, a name will come to you. Now let’s get back to camp or we’ll miss dinner. Aren’t you hungry?”

  All at once Sheila remembered just how hungry she was. “Yes!” she said.

  The unicorn leaned her head on Sheila’s shoulder, almost as though she was saying, “Don’t go,” and Darian grinned. “All right. You tool” he told the mare.

  The unicorn nodded her head vigorously and whinnied at them. Darian and Sheila burst into laughter and laughed all the way back to camp.

  Finding a place to sleep, Sheila learned, was a simple thing on such a clear night. You merely found a level spot, curled up in your cloak, and closed your eyes. She was tired enough to be glad not to have to move any more today. But sleep was another matter. For a long time she lay staring up at the night sky. Without any pollution or streetlights to interfere there seemed to be more stars than she had ever seen: the sky was blazing with light. It was incredibly beautiful. But something about it wasn’t quite right....

  Oh no! Sheila thought. All at once she knew. Dr. Reit had taught her the constellations, but she didn’t recognize any of the star patterns she saw now. The stars blurred as Sheila’s eyes filled with the tears she had held back all day. But she was here, however far away “here” was, and she would just have to make the best of it! She wiped her eyes with the corner of her cloak. Besides, she had that lovely unicorn mare to think about.

  Have to find her a good name, Sheila thought.

  She shut her eyes.

  And this time she slept.

  * * *

  Sheila groaned. Was it morning already? It didn’t seem possible. But birds were singing loudly, and people were moving about all around her, doing things that seemed to make an awful lot of noise and shouting a lot. Sheila groaned again, reluctant to open her eyes, every muscle aching. She’d been camping before, but there was a big difference between sleeping in a nice down sleeping bag and having only a cloak between you and the ground. The hard, cold, bumpy ground—A sudden snort made her open her eyes with a start.

  Something large was standing between her and the brightening sky, and for a moment, heart racing, she thought of fearsome monsters. Then the creature gave a friendly horsy little whicker, and Sheila laughed.

  “Oh, it’s you.”

  The unicorn mare snorted again, and Sheila smiled. Beyond the spiral of her horn glinted the last star of early morning.

  “Why, that’s it! That’s your name. Morning Star. Do you like it?”

  She giggled as the unicorn tossed her head as if nodding in agreement. Sheila got to her feet, stretching, trying to get her muscles to limber up. After a moment she became aware of eyes on her, and realized that all the others in the camp were watching her, almost as though she were some kind of exotic animal that might do something dangerous.

  Great. They still think I’m a sorceress. And they’re scared of magic.

  Pelu was sitting nearby, toasting something over a small fire, looking as calm and settled as though she had been awake for hours. “Good morning,” Sheila said to her with a determinedly cheerful smile, and was a little relieved to see the young woman return the smile. Pelu at least, wasn’t scared of her. Or not so it showed, anyhow.

  “Good morning, Sheila. Come have some breakfast,”

  “Yes,” added Darian, stopping by Pelu’s side. “And then, Sheila, you can start learning how to ride.”

  “And to use a bow,” Kara joined in.

  “And a sword,” said Illyria. Sheila looked dismayed. “I told you it
wasn’t going to be easy, didn’t I?”

  It wasn’t.

  Sheila stood next to Morning Star, looking up at the unicorn’s back. It seemed impossibly far away. “How do I get up there?” she asked Darian plaintively.

  The boy gave her a puzzled look, “We found you a spare saddle. What more could you want?”

  “Stirrups, for a start!”

  “Stirrups?” He echoed the unfamiliar word carefully.

  “You know, sort of loops that hang from the saddle. You put your foot in one to help you climb on, then keep both feet in them while you ride.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Well . . . to keep you from falling off, for one thing.”

  Darian shook his head impatiently. “You don’t fall off that easily. Look, all you have to do is vault onto a horse’s back, and then just sit his gaits. It isn’t difficult.”

  “Maybe not for you!” muttered Sheila, “All right, here we go.”

  She took a running start, made a graceful leap—and smacked right into the unicorn’s side. Morning Star gave her a reproachful look.

  “Sorry.”

  On her second attempt she leaped a little higher—and found herself dangling foolishly half on, half off the unicorn’s back.

  “Darian! Help!”

  But he only cheered her on, “That’s it! You’re getting it.”

  “Oh, I am, am I?”

  She gave a mighty heave, lost her balance, and slid back down to the ground in a heap.

  “Oh, rats!”

  Gritting her teeth with determination, she got to her feet, backed off, gave a mighty leap up—and found herself sailing right over Morning Star’s back, landing with a thud on her backside. The unicorn turned her head to watch, and Sheila could have sworn she was laughing.

  “All right,” she said grimly. “One more time.”

  She leaped. For a moment she was hanging on for dear life—and then she found herself sitting astride Morning Star! Sheila laughed. It was so high up here, but so wonderful! She could feel the warm strength of the unicorn under her, and the long black mane felt like silk in her hands.

  “I did it! Hey, Darian, look. I did it!”

  “Sure.” He grinned at her. “Now you only have to learn to ride.”

  * * *

  By the end of her first lesson, Sheila was so stiff she could barely slide from Morning Star’s back,

  “But I stayed on,” she told the unicorn, hugging the glossy neck. “I stayed on at the walk and the trot and even the canter!”

  “So you did,” said Kara calmly. “Now let us see if you can handle a bow as well.”

  “Handle it,” said Sheila a little later, when they were standing before a makeshift target made out of some straw tied into a rag. “I can’t even draw your bow!”

  That actually got a faint smile out of the grim Kara, “I thought you might have trouble. Don’t feel bad about it, though; it’s an expert’s weapon, after all. Pelu can’t draw it, either. Let’s try something else. Hey, Dian! You and Sheila aren’t that far apart in size. Lend her your bow.”

  Dian glared at Sheila. “Just don’t go putting any spells on it,” she said.

  “Hey, I-“

  But Dian had already stalked away.

  “All right, Sheila. Pay attention. We don’t have any blunt target arrows with us, so we’ll have to use the real thing. I don’t like the idea, but . . . Come, you hold the bow like this,”

  The lesson came pretty close to being a disaster, Sheila, who had thought her arm was strong enough, found out that holding a fully drawn bow was very different from throwing a softball to first base. As hard as she tried to keep her arm steady, something always went wrong each time she loosed an arrow. The first one dropped right off the bow. The second shot straight up into the air. The third missed the target altogether and landed in a tree. Kara was very plainly holding in her temper, keeping her voice just a little too calm and quiet. But when the fourth arrow shot off at a wild angle, making the other women dive for cover, the archer shook her head.

  “Looks like the bow just isn’t your weapon,” she said with great restraint. “Well, try once more. Carefully this time!”

  Shaking, all Sheila did this time was shoot down the target.

  “Give me that!” Dian snatched the bow from her hands, examining it for scratches, then glared at Sheila. “Stick to your spells, sorceress!” she hissed. “You’ll never make a warrior!”

  That night, too sore and tired to sleep, Sheila silently agreed with her. Oh, Illyria had tested her with the sword and told her she showed definite promise as a swords­woman, but still…

  I want to go home! Sheila thought. Dr. Reit, wherever you are, I just want to go home!

  8

  Rivalries

  The next day the warrior troop moved on, headed for Campora and the rescue of the captive unicorns. And Sheila, aching in every muscle, went with them. There wasn’t any choice. It was either ride with them or stay behind in the middle of nowhere. She endured what seemed an eternity astride Morning Star, She was so sore she could barely stay in the saddle and wondered if she would be able to walk again. When they finally stopped for the night Sheila almost fell out of the saddle, clinging to Morning Star for support, then sank gratefully to the ground, exhausted.

  “Hey, what’s this?” It was Myno’s rough voice. “Resting? Not yet! We have work to do!”

  “Myno, please…”

  “Come on, lazy girl, up!”

  And Sheila forced herself through the agony of a rigorous workout with the sturdy ex-slave, running, climbing, lifting. At last it was over, Myno dismissed her with a disapproving shake of the head, and Sheila gladly began to sit down once more.

  “Oh, no. Not yet.” It was Illyria, looking down at her with a wry smile. “Come, girl. Take up your sword.”

  Groaning, Sheila obeyed. No wonder Illyria had said that many women couldn’t endure a warrior’s training! She wasn’t so sure she could endure! But if she failed…

  Dian expected her to fail. In fact, Dian wanted her to fail! Sheila pictured the smug look on that dark-eyed face and clenched her fists in anger.

  Sorry, Dian. I don’t give up so easily.

  Just because of that, Sheila vowed, just because Dian thought she was nothing but a—a weak little girl, she refused to fail. She would become a warrior.

  Even, thought Sheila wearily, if it kills me!

  Gradually, much to her amazement, things began to get better. After two days of misery Sheila found herself feeling quite at home on Morning Star’s back, even without stirrups. No longer aching with every jolt, Sheila realized she could keep her balance easily even when the high-spirited young unicorn threw in a good-humored buck or two!

  Things were getting easier when she was on foot, too. One amazing day she actually found herself outracing Myno, and not even panting—well, at least not to much.

  “Good,” the ex-slave told her. “Very good!” and gave Sheila an encouraging slap on the back that nearly knocked the wind out of her.

  As time went on, Sheila really began to look forward to the lessons in swordplay she received from Illyria. At first, of course, the woman would easily knock aside the girl’s weapon, rapping her sharply on her shoulder or chest. But little by little it dawned on Sheila that the grace and speed needed to be a good swordswoman weren’t all that different from the skills needed to be a good third base­man. Once she realized that, she picked up fencing moves so swiftly that both she and Illyria were delighted. At last the day came when Sheila was able to hold her own in a duel for so long that Illyria called a halt, grinning, and said: “At first, I admit, I had my doubts about you. But—here, Sheila. This was Darian’s sword until he outgrew its grip. It’s a good blade. Wear it with honor. You are a warrior after all!”

  The days that followed passed in a blur for Sheila. To her secret wonder and delight, she no longer spent her time exhausted and aching. And when she chanced to catch sight of her reflection in a pool, s
he was stunned. Who was this lean, hazel-eyed girl? She recognized herself only by her freckles! Fat had disappeared, replaced by hard muscle, and though her skin had burned painfully in the hot sun at first, now it had tanned to a smooth golden brown.

  Sheila drew back a little, studying herself. Her jeans were holding up pretty well, but her shirt had been patched so many times with so many different colored scraps of material that she looked like a character out of a fantasy tale.

  Well, I am! she realized with a shock.

  Gone was the soft city girl. In her place, Sheila realized with some pride, was a strong young warrior-woman who could ride all day and do what needed to be done without complaint. She rested a hand on the sword hanging at her hip and smiled.

  Of course, the heroic life still left a lot to be desired. Just once it would be nice to sleep on something softer than the ground. And as for provisions: well, at least clean drinking water was no problem. The power of Goodness was so strong in the unicorns that all Quiet Storm had to do when they came to a pond or stream was touch his silver horn to it, and the water instantly became sparklingly clear.

  Too bad my own world doesn’t have unicorns, thought Sheila sadly.

  But even with clean water to drink, the problem of food remained. There was little to eat save what the warriors happened to catch along the way: rabbit and lizard mostly.

  Sheila had to stop herself from daydreaming about cheeseburgers and ice cream.

  But at least the others were beginning to treat her as one of them, almost as a friend.

  All of them except Dian, of course. She continued to be hostile, until Sheila cornered her at last. “All right, Dian. I’ve had just about enough of this. I don’t hate you. Why do you hate me?”

  The other girl gave her a contemptuous look. “I don’t hate you.”

  “Oh, no. You just go out of your way to try to make me feel like—like something you want to step on! Look, Dian, I’m not stupid. Every time you see me, you either glare at me—particularly if I dare to crack a joke with Darian—or talk to the person next to me as though I’m invisible!”