Cathaoir's Journey

Chapter One: Escape From Bondage

Cathaoir winced as his Master applied the whip once again, opening an old wound in his left flank. The black horse whimpered silently, not daring to speak lest he incur the wrath of his volatile master. Instead, he focused every ounce of his considerable strength on turning the water wheel that ran the mill. As he plodded in a slow, painful circle, his mind went back over the years to when he belonged to Ilosovic Stayne, the Knave of Hearts. That had been such a happy time, he reflected. Stayne had been a truly competent horseman, and Cathaoir had borne him through many battles. But he had been more than just a good rider, Cathaoir thought. He had also been surprisingly kind and gentle towards him. Cathaoir remembered when he got colic, and Stayne had stayed all night in his stall nursing him. They also had many conversations, and Stayne knew that he could trust Cathaoir to carry secrets to his grave. He smiled briefly as one conversation entered his mind. It had been the night of the Masquerade, and Cathaoir had been quietly chomping his hay and listening to the music drifting out of Salazen Grum when Stayne came running in, looking rather punch drunk….

"Cathaoir! I….I think I'm in love. She…Beautiful….voice….green eyes…red hair….sang…." Stayne leaned against the stall door, sighing deeply, and Cathaoir laughed.

"Master, are you trying to describe a lady?"

Stayne nodded. "Oh, Cathaoir, I've never seen anyone as beautiful as her. She's….real. There's nothing phony about her. No fake ears, breasts, nothing. And her voice…"Stayne sighed dreamily, and then continued. "Her voice is amazing. So clear, and so beautiful. And when she looked at me, she smiled. She wasn't afraid of me."

"Did you at least manage to find out her name?"

Stayne shook his head in exasperation. "No. All I know is her surname. Sullivan. I wanted to find out more about her, but the bloody Red Queen wouldn't let me out of her sight!" Stayne muttered a curse in Outlandish under his breath and Cathaoir chuckled.

"I hope you meet this beautiful lady again someday."

Stayne smiled. "So do I, my friend. So do I."

That had been twelve years ago, Cathaoir thought with some amazement. After the Frabjous Day, and the Exile of his Master and the Red Queen, he had been shunted about from person to person, finally ending up at a grain mill in Witzend run by a Joseph Bellock. Bellock was a hard, cruel man who frequently employed the whip on his horses. Cathaoir unfortunately bore much of his wrath, as he was a high spirited animal. His refusal to break under the lash led him to be tethered day and night to the water wheel. With each turn, he would curse his master and hope for escape. But as time passed, escape seemed less and less possible-and even if he did escape, he thought, where could he go? He had willingly assisted Stayne and the Red Queen in their attack on Witzend on the Horrendevush Day. He had remained loyal to the Red throughout. But, in all truth, he thought, the loyalty he had felt had been towards his Master, and not to the Queen. He had felt nothing for Iracebeth. But the truth remained that he had still willingly allied with a traitoress, and he didn't know how forgiving her sister was.

Bellock broke into his reverie by lashing him harder than he ever had before, and Cathaoir whinnied in pain. "Come on, you great useless lump of a beast! Get movin! Are you thinkin' about your past agin? You might as well face it, you nag, those times are over with. Ye may have been a great steed once, but now ye're nothing but an old broken down nag. Ye'd be useless on the battlefield, anyway. So quit trying to relive yer glory days, and get ta work!" He punctuated this last sentence with another lashing, and Cathaoir snapped.

"That…DOES IT!" He whinnied in rage, and then began to buck, shattering the tethers that held him to the wheel. When he realized he was free, he kicked his heels up in joy.

Bellock advanced on him, whip in hand and eyes promising painful punishments, and Cathaoir reared up and caught him a deadly blow in the chin with his right front hoof. Bellock collapsed like a sack of flour, and Cathaoir whinnied in triumph and galloped away towards freedom, whinnying his joy to the skies. He was free! Free, free, free!

He stopped galloping as the wounds in his flanks and back opened up, leaving him gasping in pain. He staggered onward as best he could, and was on the verge of collapsing when he noticed another horse coming towards him. The newcomer was grey, with a white star in his forehead. The grey horse trotted over to him, and spoke quietly in their own language.

"Are you alright?"

Cathaoir blinked. It had been a while since he had heard or spoken horse-language. "I'm in need of help. My name is Cathaoir. What is yours?"

"Grey Star. My Master is nearby with his Patrol. I could lead you to them. I'm sure my Master could help you. He knows a great deal about horses, and my Mistress can cure any ailment. She could heal your cuts."

Cathaoir nodded in gratitude, and Grey Star walked over to him. "I'll stay by your side, to make sure you can walk. It isn't far."

Stayne watched as Grey Star walked back into camp accompanied by another horse. At first, Stayne didn't recognize the new horse-but then they came closer and Stayne's jaw dropped in disbelief and shock.

"Cathaoir?"