The Revenge Page 18

  Seamus' breathing quickened. “Isaac was weak.”

  “No,” said Malcolm, stepping forward, Papa still mounted on his back. “I saw it all with my own eyes. You threatened Isaac and me—your son.”

  “And what a fine son you've turned out to be, a human slave.”

  Malcolm stood taller. “Not a slave—an equal.”

  “Equal, my eye.” Seamus leapt forward, baring his teeth. “You're a filthy horse. Get that human off you now! No colt of mine will ever serve an ape.”

  Malcolm dodged the bite, protecting the human straddled across his back. Seamus lowered his head and raced toward him again.

  “Now!” commanded Corabelle.

  Papa drew an arrow from his quiver, aimed and shot. The arrow flew, smacking Seamus in the flank.

  A neigh of agony rose from the evil stallion’s throat. He lunged despite the pain, aiming his teeth, this time at Papa.

  Papa pulled another arrow from his quiver and shot again, the arrow meeting its target.

  Seamus shrieked, then retreated to the edge of the forest, using mares and foals as a shield.

  “Had enough?” shouted Malcolm.

  “You think that'll stop me?” Seamus gave a derisive laugh. He limped to Isabelle and turned his injured back end to her for healing.

  Damien caught a gust of wind and dove between them. “Oh, no, you don't. You'll get the same treatment you've given the others. You made unicorns suffer their injuries; now it's your turn.”

  “Ha! You think so?” Seamus swung around to one of the stallions, but the stallion stepped back, giving his head a vigorous shake. Seamus glared at him. “What do you mean, no?” Seamus limped to another, then another, each one backing away. Blood dripped from his flank. In desperation, he cried, “What do you want from me?”

  “We want you banished,” said Malcolm, a dangerous edge to his voice.

  Seamus recoiled, then recomposed himself. “Malcolm, have you not forgotten I'm your sire? Your father,” he said with a sickly sweet voice.

  “Only by blood,” retorted Malcolm.

  “But I taught you everything you know,” Seamus implored.

  “No. You taught me to how to be cruel and how to ridicule…until Samuel came. He treated everyone with respect. He taught us the true Legacy of Azaria. Not you.” His eyes blazing, he turned and faced Isabelle. “And sure as heck not you either.”

  Isabelle took in a sharp breath of air, looking as though she'd never been so offended in all her life.

  “Now,” said Damien, “we demand you both be banished. You've done nothing but make this herd miserable. Unicorns don't deserve that.”

  Seamus let out a sardonic laugh. “You think you can force me?”

  Damien aimed his horn at Seamus and shot. The stallion leapt away, but not quick enough. The flame struck the stallion's neck dead on.

  Seamus cried in agony. “I'll discipline you for this!”

  Damien shot again, this time striking Seamus in the ribs so hard the stallion bowled over onto his side.

  Seamus lay stunned for a moment, then rose, anger burning in his orbs. He leapt at Damien, but the red yearling was ready for him. He aimed once again, this time striking him directly between the eyes.

  “I can't see!” shrieked Seamus. “Someone, help me.”

  Isabelle hurried to his side, but the others blocked her way.

  “No one will help you, Seamus,” said Damien, “because no one respects you just like you didn't respect them.”

  The stallion let out a fierce neigh, his angry cry reaching out into the depths of the forest.

  “Now, go!” said Malcolm. “Take your mate and leave this place immediately.”

  Sputtering insults, the couple limped away into the dark, arguing and blaming each other for all that had transpired.

  “I hope he’ll be all right,” said Damien.

  “Don’t worry about him. Isabelle will heal him the minute they’re out of sight,” said Malcolm.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  When all was quiet again, Malcolm addressed the herd. “My father's reign of terror has ended. Who here would like to reinstate Isaac as Great Stallion?”

  Cheers arose from the band as the older stallion sauntered out from between them, looking somewhat flustered.

  “Well, th-thank you, yearlings,” he said, nodding over and over again. “I'm glad to be back, and I'll do a much better job of leading you this time around.”

  The unicorns whinnied and neighed with jubilation. Then Malcolm quieted them again. “And now, I have a request,” he said, a compassionate tone to his voice.

  Ears pricked forward to hear his words.

  “It's the perfect evening for an initiation.”

  “Why, yes, it is,” Isaac agreed.

  “And as you know,” said Malcolm, “Damien hasn’t been initiated yet.”

  “Yes, that is so,” said Isaac. “And it’s high time he was.” He turned to the red unicorn. “Damien, would you like to come forward?”

  Corabelle dismounted Damien, and the red unicorn stepped into the centre of the herd, his eyes moist.

  “Damien,” began Isaac, “you have suffered terrible indignities because of your colour, despite the fact you have gifts that no one can equal. You lived in solitude after the wildfire, yet you've made a comeback, made amends, and have driven out the tyrant who held us all captive with his hatred. For that, there must be restitution. Therefore, I command you to kneel.”

  Damien barely controlled his trembling as he lowered his forelegs and felt Isaac's horn pierce his side. He gritted his teeth as the heat seared through him, then waited until it dissipated. Then he let out a breath of relief.

  “Now rise, Damien, son of Samuel and Amarah.”

  Damien rose to enthusiastic cheers, his eyes blinking rapidly.

  “Speaking of which,” said Yasmine. “Shouldn't we be fetching Amarah and Chrissandra back now that we know where they are?”

  “We know where they are?” asked Isaac.

  “Yes,” said Damien. “We're pretty sure they've gone back to my colthood home.”

  Isaac's eyes filled with wonder at the words. “Then, by all means, go,” he said.

  “Not yet,” said Damien. “I have one other thing I need to do.”

  Looking over his shoulder, his eyes met Corabelle's. The girl smiled and nodded.

  Chapter 40

  Uncle Rupert's Demise

  A day later, they stood at the top of the canyon, overlooking the river far below.

  “We're almost home,” said Papa, placing his hand on Corabelle's shoulder. “It's been so long.”

  “For me too.” Corabelle wrapped her arm around his waist. “Mama's going to be so surprised.”

  Damien nuzzled Corabelle's neck.

  “What is it, Red?” she asked.

  The unicorn sauntered to a protruding rock and waited.

  “What? You want me to ride you down?” She threw a glance at Papa and Aunt Agatha. When she saw they approved, she stepped onto the stone and mounted the unicorn. But much to her surprise, instead of taking the trail down as she expected, the unicorn hopped from rock to rock until they reached the bottom of the canyon.

  Corabelle gazed up to where Aunt Agatha and Papa worked their way down and waved. They waved back. She waited apprehensively until her relatives stood by her side, their legs trembling from the strain of the descent. When all had rested up, she pointed them to the hidden path she'd followed the day the townsfolk had retrieved the body of Red's sire.

  “I’ve never seen this trail,” said Papa. “Where does it lead?”

  “You'll see,” replied Corabelle, winking.

  She guided them up the trail and through the woods to an even tighter path where bushes and branches brushed against them as they walked past. When, at last, they came to a familiar knoll, Phineas let out a volley of high-pitched tweets.

  “Go on, Phineas,” she said. “Your mate's waiting for you.”

  T
he bird hopped up and down, let out a chirp, then flew away.

  Corabelle climbed up the small hill, anxious to see her animal friends, then lowered herself to the other side.

  When the animals caught sight of her, they hurried to meet her, small paws tickling her legs, peeps and whistles sounding in the air.

  “Hello, my little friends. It's been a long time,” she said, sinking down to sitting position. Squirrels scampered up her arms, their whiskers quivering. “Sorry. I haven't got any food. We don't even have any ourselves. But I promise I'll bring you some next time.”

  The sound of thumping feet made her turn. It was Autumn.

  “Oh, Autumn. I see you’ve had your litter. Where's Acorn?”

  Before the rabbit could answer, all the animals scooted away, diving into holes and dens.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Corabelle.

  Papa strode up behind her.

  “Oh.” She laughed when she understood. “It's all right. This is my father.”

  Slowly, tiny heads peeked out, casting nervous glances at the man.

  “He's like me,” she said. “He understands you.”

  One by one, they left their holes, taking uncertain steps toward him.

  Then Autumn placed her paws on Corabelle’s legs, her nose twitching.

  “What? You want to know where I found Papa?”

  Corabelle recounted her story to the animals. Their ears flicked as she described the wildfire and their triumph against Seamus.

  When she was done, Autumn climbed into her lap and gazed at her, questioning.

  “You want to know what happened to the red unicorn?” Corabelle asked. “Why, he’s right here.” She turned her head back and called, “Red?”

  The unicorn hopped down to join them.

  Several animals scampered away.

  “It’s okay. He's no more dangerous than a doe.”

  Damien lowered his nose to the level of the curious animals. Slowly, they sauntered back to touch his muzzle with their small paws.

  Corabelle turned her attention back to Autumn. “Where will I go now, you ask? To the village of course. I still have to reckon with Uncle Rupert.”

  A series of frightened squeaks and peeps rose at the mention of his name.

  “It's all right,” Corabelle said. “They'll see how tame Red is, and everything will be fine.” She yawned and stretched her arms. “But right now, I'm tired. I need to sleep. Does anyone want to join me?” She lay down on the moss, the critters finding comfortable spots to curl up close by.

  The three humans and animals spent the night huddled together until Phineas awoke them the next morning. Then Papa, Aunt Agatha, and Corabelle headed to the village.

  They’d only walked a few paces when the girl stopped. “Do you hear that?” she asked

  “What?” said Aunt Agatha.

  “All that rustling.” She turned around, searching with her eyes. Then she folded her arms across her chest and called out, “You can't follow us. It’s far too dangerous.”

  Small squeaks and chatters answered in protest.

  “No, I mean it. You have to stay here.”

  ***

  Father Patrick was the first person to spot them. When he caught sight of the girl atop of the red unicorn, he hurried to the newly-built steeple and rang the bell. Within minutes, the villagers filled the square, many still in their night clothes, their eyes rounded in astonishment.

  “It's a miracle,” shouted a woman. “Not only has she tamed the unicorn, but she's found Harold.”

  “Harold?” called a man.

  “Harold!” shouted another.

  The townsfolk cheered.

  Corabelle searched the crowd for Mama. She saw her from afar, weaving in and out of the throng as she made her way to her family. When she finally reached them, she ran into Papa's arms. Corabelle dismounted Red and joined them. Together they cried.

  When their tears had dried, Corabelle strode to the monument raised in honour of Red's sire. The crowd quieted as she spoke.

  “You asked me to find the red unicorn and communicate with him. Well, I have, and here he is. He's no demon. He's just a unicorn of a different colour, one who has a gift.” She recounted the tale of their long journey, the townsfolk dwelling on her every word. As she finished the last events of her story, she noticed a familiar face ride up behind the crowd.

  It was the baron.

  Corabelle fell to her knees.

  The crowd made way when they saw her kneel, allowing the baron and his entourage through.

  “My Lord,” said Corabelle when he stood before her.

  “Please rise,” he said, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. “You've done well—far better than I could have ever imagined.”

  Corabelle offered a shy smile. “Thank you, my Lord.”

  “And because of that, I've decided to build a cottage in the town especially for you and your aunt to distribute your herbs and remedies—an apothecary of sorts.”

  “We’d be so grateful,” said Corabelle, giving a small curtsy.

  The red unicorn walked to where the girl stood on the monument and nuzzled the stone statue of his father.

  “The poor thing,” said the baron. “Tell him we’ll honour his sire forever and that Father Patrick will put his horn on display so we’ll always remember him.”

  Corabelle rubbed Damien’s cheek as she imparted the message to him.

  The crowd oohed and ahhed, pulling out handkerchiefs and dabbing their eyes.

  “And tell him too,” said the baron, “that I've decided to create a law to protect all unicorns from hunters. From now on, I decree that no one shall have the right to kill one of these magnificent creatures.”

  “No!” shouted a lone voice from the edge of the crowd. “We should capture a few more, use them as healers.” It was Uncle Rupert. “We could build a small enclosure so the townsfolk could access it anytime. And then when they die, we could keep their horns—starting with this one.”

  “No, let him be!” cried Corabelle.

  “But just think of how we could cure the sick the next time a disease threatens to wipe us out!” shouted Uncle Rupert.

  The crowd muttered at his words, several heads shaking.

  “Have you all forgotten the Brain Fever and the death of my son? Are you all fools? The unicorns could be our salvation!” Uncle Rupert's voice had grown frantic.

  “No!” said Father Patrick. “The unicorns must remain free.”

  “But that's lunacy,” insisted Uncle Rupert. “We should take advantage of them.”

  “No!” several voices shot back.

  Then Uncle Rupert did the unthinkable. He broke free of the throng and ran toward the unicorn, a sharp blade in hand.

  “Uncle Rupert!” screamed Corabelle.

  Her cries fell on deaf ears as Rupert threw himself at Red, the blade held high in the air. It seemed to hover for a moment. Then Uncle Rupert fell backward, letting out an oomph as he landed.

  Father Patrick dove at the knife that had fallen from Rupert's hand and threw it into the deepest part of the newly-constructed fountain.

  Corabelle saw a small animal scurry past. “Acorn!” she exclaimed. “You tripped him. Good boy.”

  But the rabbit ignored her praise and dove onto the downed man.

  Uncle Rupert howled in terror.

  Several other creatures of varying sizes leapt on Uncle Rupert too.

  “No!” shouted Uncle Rupert. “Get them off me! I can’t stand rodents.”

  Corabelle stood, awestruck, then said, “It's all right, my little friends. You can leave him alone now.”

  But they wouldn't until Papa and Aunt Agatha pulled them off one by one.

  When they'd removed the last creature, Uncle Rupert rose, his clothes dirty and his face and arms scratched by small claws. It was then that the baron's men seized him, escorting him to the castle to be locked up for breaking the new law.

  Corabelle watched as they dragged him away. She
sighed with relief, then grabbed Papa and Mama’s hands and led them home.

  Chapter 41

  The Cave by the Bubbling Creek

  Damien gazed through the trees at Amarah as she nibbled on sweet purple flowers. Her eyes were filled with sorrow. Close by, Chrissandra and her dam, Lisa, grazed by the cave where Damien had spent the better part of his colthood. Memories of his sire filled him—his strength and morality and the lessons he’d taught Damien. A knot formed in his throat at the missing stallion who had so influenced him even after he'd died. Swallowing down the lump, he stepped out of the trees and clip-clopped toward his dam.

  The mare's ears twitched at the sound of his footfall. She looked up. “Damien?”

  “Mother, yes, it's me. I've come home.”

  “Oh, Damien!” She rushed to meet him, then pressed her cheek against his and wept. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “I know, Mother. And I thought Seamus had killed you.”

  “No. We were only banished from the herd for being…defective.”

  “I know, Mother. I heard. But it's all over now. Seamus and Isabelle have been exiled.”

  “Exiled?” Her eyes grew twice their size.

  “Yes.”

  “Damien!” Chrissandra cried, barely able to contain her excitement. “How did you find us?”

  “It was Yasmine who told me where you were.”

  “Yasmine? You've seen her?”

  “Yes,” said Damien, “and the rest of the herd too.”

  “How?”

  Damien spent the afternoon retelling the story of the ousting of Seamus, of the girl with the pale blue eyes, and of Samuel's tomb while the three mares listened intently.

  “You actually made friends with a human?” asked Chrissandra when he was done.

  “Not one human—three. And now their leader has decreed that unicorns are to be protected.”

  “Do you think they’ll listen?” asked Lisa.

  “If not, we still have our skills, right?”

  The mares nodded.

  “But let's not think of that now,” said Damien. “I've come to take you all back home. The herd is waiting for you, and I promise you they'll never treat you the way they did again.”