by Lena Austin
Unicorn Valley 2: Stallion’s Heart
Lena Austin
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2004 by Lena Austin
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Chapter One
“Mother!”
Shadow leapt to his feet, shaking his head. He looked around wildly, but nothing except a mild morning breeze stirred in the peaceful glade he’d hidden in.
“Gods, what a nightmare!” He’d dreamt he’d been walking in his human form beside his beloved foster mother as she went about her morning stroll in her garden. He hadn’t escorted her in ages, he realized. Without warning, she’d dropped the basket in which she’d been gathering flowers, and dropped to her knees with an oddly slack look on her lined face. When she’d fallen face-first into the dark earth, Shadow had reached for her, yelling the alarm. Then he’d awakened.
Without further consideration, Shadow made a decision. He shook his forelock out of his eyes and teleported. He had to know if his dream was merely that. As soon as his hooves hit solid ground again, he knew it was no dream. Healers boiled out of the cavern complex that once was his childhood home and now served as a healing facility for the whole Valley.
He galloped up the short rise, not bothering to change out of his equine form. Just as he’d dreamt, Kella lay there in the dirt, her normally animated face blank. The only change was that his foster brother, Brolly, knelt beside her, his hands on her forehead.
His face fierce with concentration, Brolly barely glanced up. “Brainstorm.” Brolly’s forehead beaded with sweat. “Thank all the gods I heard you, Horseface. Now give me all the power you’ve got and shut up.”
Shadow didn’t question further, even though he hadn’t mind spoken a thing. He fed Brolly a steady stream of magic, knowing Brolly’s healing energies were limited without it.
Another healer shouldered past Shadow to kneel on the other side of Kella’s head and add her power to Brolly’s. “Good catch, Shadow. Thanks for yelling and waking us up.”
It served no purpose to tell them he’d not been here to shout. “No problem, Mina.”
“Got it!” Brolly’s exultant shout rang out. “Blasted blood clots.” He looked down affectionately at the unconscious woman who’d raised them all. “You Vampires and your blood issues.”
Mina removed her hands as Kella stirred feebly. “Where’s that damned litter?”
Shadow didn’t move or stop feeding Brolly power until Brolly’s fingers slowly left Kella’s temples. He twitched one ear back at the sound of running feet behind him and stepped carefully over his mother’s precious flowers. If he trampled one, he’d be in serious trouble when she recovered.
Brolly left Mina to supervise Kella being lifted onto the litter and hopped over a small bush to join Shadow out of the way. Shadow changed into human form and caught Brolly as the healer swayed and turned white.
“Overextended yourself, didn’t you, Furball?” Shadow knew of old, Brolly would now have a serious headache and be sensitive to sound, so he lowered his voice to the softest of whispers.
“Shaddup, Hayburner. Just get me inside.” Brolly’s knees buckled.
Shadow easily picked up his burly brother. “That, I can do.” He strode toward the cavern entrance and dodged healers running everywhere.
“And no funny magic tricks to make me sleep, you silver-horned virgin-chaser.”
Shadow chuckled at the old joke between them about the legends of how Unicorns could be lured to their deaths using human virgins. “I don’t need magic, Brolly. You’re out on your feet. I assume you’re in our old room in the back.”
Brolly nodded, then winced as the movement jarred his aching head. “Stop carrying me like I’m one of your feminine conquests. Put me the hell down. Someone has got to tell Father.”
Shadow kicked open the door that led to the bedroom he’d shared for years with Brolly and Lionel when they’d been small. The three beds had been replaced by one giant sybaritic bed, though the clothes press had been Brolly’s all along. There were still teeth marks on the legs. “Whoa, brother mine! Made yourself at home, hmm?”
He lit the lamp with a wisp of magic, and turned the shield around so Brolly stopped wincing. Shadow put him on his feet and let Brolly have the dignity of climbing into bed on his own power.
“Where else am I going to live, unless it’s Pack Lands?”
Shadow didn’t bother to answer that rhetorical question. Brolly was not an outcast, just a lone wolf by choice. “I’ll tell Father, Brolly. I’m the only one who would dare interrupt a Council meeting anyway.”
“Then why were you here instead of at the Council playing dutiful Herd Stallion in training?” Brolly’s words were slurred, and they ended in a snore. Brolly was sprawled across the bed and likely to remain there for hours.
“I’ll tell you sometime, Furface, when you aren’t overextended and dealing with a power drain headache. I’m going to find Father. Then I’m going to camp out here until I know Mother is well again.” Shadow softly shut the door and teleported away.
Shadow arrived at the Unicorn Council’s favorite meadow in time to hear a disrespectful shout aimed at the Herd Stallion. “It’s our way!” The enraged black stallion stood nearly horn-to-horn with the calm blue and silver Stallion who had reigned for nearly three hundred years.
Those who watched or grazed nearby gasped in outrage at the discourtesy shown the venerable ruler of the Valley. There were very few who didn’t respect Tanne and the peaceful coexistence between the races he’d created.
Several of the younger stallions, Shadow included, stood poised and ready to mete out whatever justice the Stallion deemed fit. Several of those on the Council rose from their positions in the semicircle, readying spells or weapons.
Shadow knew Tanne Brae better than most, but even he was surprised when the Stallion answered the shout cheerfully. “Right you are, Durham! There’s no need to get upset about it, you know. I fully expect there to be challenge fights against my successor when I retire. You young fellows certainly couldn’t let such an opportunity pass you by, now could you?”
Ah, so that was what this was about. The younger and more rebellious stallions had finally recognized that Tanne was getting up in years. Or, perhaps more likely, they’d taken this long to get their courage up. Shadow chuckled to himself and trotted forward. “Excuse me, Father, my apologies for interrupting. May I have a word with you?”
“Since you don’t interrupt me without good reason, you are forgiven, Shadow.” He turned to those waiting their turn and courteously tipped his horn. “I shall return as quickly as I can.”
They moved to a place out of hearing but still within sight of the Herd and Council. The Council, well able to manage without the Stallion in most cases, continued its business.
Durham defiantly stood in the circle as if to say, “I am not finished.”
When Tanne heard his beloved mate had suffered a brainstorm, he teleported without a word. Shadow had expected that, and trotted back to the Council circle. He took his father’s place, as he had done many times.
“I hope you will forgive, councilors. Tanne’s mate is very ill.” After the councilors had expressed their wishes for Kella’s safe healing, Shadow caught the concerned look on the face of one, Councilor Le-An. He imagined Le-An was very anxious for the session to end to get to the bedside vigil.
Durham pranced in place, his black and white tail switching in agitation. As soon as he saw Shadow’s attention was on him, his temper burst forth. “I will not accept this! The Stallion cannot simply choose his replacement. That is not how things are done!” Durham looked at Shadow with contempt.
The son of the previous Herd Stallion, Durham had used his position to his advantage when his corrupt father had been alive, and had lost it all the day Talamar’s sins had come home to graze in his father’s little kingdom. Shadow returned his stare with cool aplomb. Durham had bullied anyone he’d considered weak or vulnerable since he’d been born. It was therefore unsurprising that Durham would feel he had nothing to fear from the little colt he’d picked on and abused so long ago. He couldn’t seem to understand Shadow wasn’t that shy, unwanted little orphan anymore.
“Tradition is all it is, Durham,” the Elf Lord Arion admonished. “You Unicorns never bothered to write anything down, and --”
Durham snorted. “What would be the point?”
Arion closed his eyes and visibly sought for patience. “Exactly what is happening right now. Undoubtedly, in the long history of Unicorns, there have been occasions where a successor was chosen, rather than winning by challenge.”
The tall, handsome Elf disapproved of violence, as Shadow well knew, but it was a measure of the respect he held for the Unicorns that he kept his tone friendly. “However, because you do not write anything down or keep any records whatsoever, you no longer remember these precedents.”
Le-An rose to her feet and waited to be acknowledged. When Shadow had nodded, she spoke. However, she also kept an eye on the black stallion still dancing with impatience in the center of the circle. “I must agree with Lord Arion. It is time to consider what may be in the historical records of other races. Perhaps they have been a bit more diligent in keeping accountings of past events.” She leaned forward earnestly, her brown eyes serious. “I urge you to consider sending a representative to the other races to check for a precedent in which they may have seen and recorded a time when the Unicorns acquired a leader by some method other than challenge fights.” She shrugged. “What can it hurt?”
Durham could not contain himself any longer. “That will take time. You’re merely delaying things. I see nothing wrong with tradition. I want this issue settled right now.” He snorted contemptuously. “I see no reason to involve other races.”
Shadow could hear clearly the word he did not say aloud. What Durham had definitely wanted to say was, ‘other inferior races,’ but that would arouse the ire of the entire Council. However, the point was moot. “Are you intending to challenge the present Herd Stallion? Or are you arguing an event that may not happen for many years? What is your point in bringing this up at this time?”
Durham was taken aback by the dangerous tone in Shadow’s public mind voice, but he did not back down. “Come now! Surely you starry-eyed idealists can see that the Herd Stallion grows old.”
Shadow chose to ignore the mild insult. Durham’s mind voice turned oily and unctuous. “This issue should be settled before our venerable and respected Herd Stallion even begins to think about retiring. There will be enough chaos to deal with at that time without having to go search for precedents elsewhere. Surely you can see that.”
Councilor Asa, a pretty female Harpy, jumped from her perch to the podium directly in front of her and awaited acknowledgment. She nodded in Durham’s direction. “As much as I disagree with this stallion’s ambitious and rude motives, he does have a point, and I’m not referring to the one on his forehead.” After the appreciative chuckles had died, she bowed and continued. “If such a precedent can be found, it would mean a speedier and more peaceful transition in the leadership of the Valley. It would be beneficial for all to settle the issue now.”
Many of the other councilors nodded their heads. There seemed to be no dissenting vote. To be sure, Shadow asked the traditional question. “Are there any opposed to this idea of researching precedent for a peaceful transition?” There were none. “So noted.”
Again, Le-An stood. “The question now becomes, who shall we send and where?”
The entire Council jumped to their feet, or whatever appendage they used, to signal the wish to speak. It took a few moments for the babble to settle down. Durham stood smugly in the center, having achieved the outcome he desired, which was to throw the Council into chaos. It was an old trick of his to cause others to argue and become enemies over obscure and unnecessary things.
Shadow shook his mane. He was not about to allow Durham the chance to get his way simply because it would stop all argument. He whickered to get the Council’s attention. “It’s very simple. There are only two races in the Valley likely to have kept records, and which have the hands to do so. Without meaning insult to our councilor of the Vampires,” he tipped his horn courteously to Lady Jeanette, “I think it unlikely that their records extend past their entrance into the Valley. Therefore, it is likely that the Elves are the only race who might have the historical data we seek.” Shadow prayed briefly he was right. Vampires could be somewhat touchy about being the latest immigrants.
The Vampire councilor politely raised her hand. “I am afraid you are correct, Shadow. As the high priestess, I am well aware of the contents of our archives. Nothing goes back past 700 years. All of our records before that were lost in the emigration. I regret such a loss, but there is little I can do to change it.”
Though all who had been through those terrible times were now dead and gone, she seemed to take it personally that no records existed.
Shadow looked at Lord Arion questioningly. Lord Arion stood and leaned forward on his podium. “It is true, we have extensive records. However, it is inadvisable for me to be involved. I don’t speak Unicorn, and there is a possibility that some of our records could be written in that language. I am not even sure many Unicorns can read or write. It is becoming a lost art.” He glanced at Durham, who looked affronted, but shook his head.
“I speak and read both modern and ancient Unicorn.” Shadow tried to remain calm when he secretly lusted to delve into what was likely a treasure trove of books and scrolls. Legend had it that the Elves had transported their entire collection of libraries and archives with them when the Valley was formed.
Durham tried to protest, but was overruled and admonished for being out of line. He had no vote, and was ordered to keep his opinions to himself or take it up with his representative.
It was quickly voted that Shadow would visit the reclusive Elven historian to search for a precedent. Shadow held his tail still, refusing to let anyone guess about the extent of his secret vice of reading books. He was so happy, he could have made a fool of himself.
Le-An waved her arms in a shooing motion and laughed. “It is not as if the Council cannot handle business without a Unicorn presiding for a short time. We will mind call if we have need.” She marched over and shoved him. “Go visit your mother’s bedside for a few hours and tell your father what is going on. Then go research.” Shadow blessed her.
She then stomped over to Durham and planted her hands on her hips. “Why are you still here? Your business is concluded and others wait. You’ll get your answer soon enough.” She pointed firmly outside the Council circle.
It was worth every bit of abuse Shadow had ever suffered to see Durham so firmly dismissed. He forced himself not to laugh and trotted off to report to his father.
Tanne nodded thoughtfully when he heard the Council’s decision. “I don’t have to like it, but I am forced to agree.” His eyes returned to the quiet form of his mate lying in the bed they had shared for over 300 years. “Should the worst befall us, I cannot guarantee that I will have the heart to continue.”
Such a flat statement shook Shadow to his core. “Don’t say that, Father. She must get better. She must!”
Tanne sighed. “I want it too, son. However, your mother’s over 600 years old, and that is a good lifespan for a Vampire. I’ve always wanted to believe the magic she uses so casually would make her live longer. Yet it has always been in the back of our minds that Unicorns live longer than Vampires. She’s dying, son.” His voice quavered. “I don’t want to go on without her. Can you understand that?” Tanne turned pleading eyes to his son before turning back.
Shadow had always wondered what would break the spirit of a stallion who had fought prejudice and exile to win the right to live with the mate of his choice. He should have known.
“For the past 300 years, I have watched how you both love one another. How could I not understand?” Shadow watched his father stroke the limp, white hand of the only mother he could clearly remember. “Take care of her, Father. I’ll find a way to keep all that you have built intact, no matter what happens.”
Chapter Two
The loud pounding on her door jerked Chantrea out of her research on Harpy migration patterns. She wiped at the spill of ink on her parchment and cursed fluently.
“One moment! One moment!” Chantrea muttered imprecations at having her peace and quiet disturbed. Wiping her ink-stained fingers on her tunic, she went to open the door, intending to give whoever was there a piece of her mind. It was long past the hour for courteous visitors, even for the historian of the Elves.
Instead of finding herself looking down on a Dwarf, or any of the other creatures known for frequenting the late night, she stared into a wide expanse of gray, silk-clad chest. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline as her gaze traveled up to meet equally gray eyes. The handsome Unicorn smiled and bowed. Chantrea berated herself. All Unicorns were handsome creatures, so there was no need to stand there with her mouth hanging open.