The Huntsman and the Hounds


On the morning of the third day beyond the borders of Farallon, they
came across a wide road that came down from the north, and then curved
to the west, close to their own path, and he realized that the Lady had
been leading them to this.

They had been moving at a good clip down the road for nearly two hours,
when they heard hoofbeats behind them, and moved quickly to the side of
the road. They stopped to wait, wanting to be prepared for whomever
might be coming up the road behind them. Shortly thereafter, the
horse galloped into view.

The horseman was riding hard, but pulled up quickly when he espied them.
He was tall, with dark, wavy hair, and wore dusty riding leathers over
what looked to be a green jerkin and brown leggings. A sheathed sword
hung from his waist, angled to the rear, chafing against the saddlebags,
leaving a score through the dirt that had accumulated thereon.

"Milord," he said, loudly to be heard over his horse's hard breathing,
and Ranma looked down in surprise, to realize that he had summoned the
Dragon Armor without really thinking about it. He had not expected to be
addressed thusly, but in this gear, he did indeed look the part, if a
bit short for it still. He had grown several inches though. He ate much
better now, than when with his father. "and Milady," the rider
continued, "ye should get as far from the road as ye can, and quickly.
The huntsmen cannot be far behind." His breath was short, and ragged. He
looked tired. Ranma glanced at the Lady. They could run if need be, but
why fear huntsman?

She frowned. "The Huntsman of Lord Ereth?"

The rider nodded. "Ye've heard of them I see... then ye know why ye
must flee. Hurry, even now I hear the baying of the hounds." Indeed,
the baying of many dogs sounded in the distance, and grew steadily
louder.

Ranma turned to the Lady. "Should we stay or flee? If we flee, we shall
fly. I am strong enough. I can bear this man and his horse as well. It
is your choice." It pained him to say this. He felt he had been
challenged, and wanted to face it straight on, but he was not free to do
as he would. The Lady's safety was more important than his pride.

"Flee, we must," she replied, "at least until we find a better place to
make a stand, for they will not stop the hunt, no matter where we take
him. If we bring this man, then we will come to blows with them. But
yes, this is a fight you can and will win."

The man stared at them, aghast. "This be no matter for joking, Milord,
Milady. They mean to kill me, and once they see ye with me, they'll be
for killing you both as well. Fly now, while ye have the chance.
There's some strength left in my stead, I can lead them from ye a
ways."

Ranma looked at him. "That won't be necessary. You stopped and warned
us, when you had no need, and added thus to your own peril. The Lord Fey
will not so lightly cast aside his debts." He didn't notice the extreme
pallor that struck the man's face at his name. Instead, he had turned
within, and was reaching for his center. He rose easily from the ground,
not noticing the man's gasp, and the sudden sweat of his fear. Moments
later, the Lady lifted lightly off ground as well. Ranma's brow
furrowed, and then the man and his horse rose from the ground as well.

Ranma's eyes opened, and he pulled himself into lotus position, there in
the air, and seemed to come to rest on something. He spun slowly, facing
forward, down the road. Then the air was whistling past them, and the
trees blurred, and the road sped away beneath them. The horse's fearful
whinny was torn away by the wind, but Ranma's keen hearing caught it,
and a blue glow appeared before them, like a massive shield, a
concentrated Juushin Jisei Shiirudo, and the wind stilled, though the
trees and the road continued to blur past. The sudden cessation of the
wind's whistle let him hear the muttered oaths and prayers of the man
and the sound of fear in his voice.

The Lady laughed behind him in her delight. She always loved flying with
him, but this was a new experience. She could see they were moving at
great speed, yet they seemed motionless, given the still air. "We will
look for a place, Lord, and there you will face them. I don't know, they
may fall back before you, but I suspect the rumored fear of Lord Fey
will not be as strong as the familiar fear of Lord Ereth. But don't
worry. If any man on this world is a match for Lord Ereth and his
huntsman, you are. There!" she pointed suddenly, and Ranma brought them
to a swift stop where she indicated.

"Set us upon that height. Good, now stand full armored, with your
sword unsheathed, there on that stone. They will come down that opening,
and spread out before you. We are beyond their reach, until they have
dealt with you, and they will not get past you."

Ranma stood solidly, centering himself to the stone, holding his blade
at ready. The Lady and the man stood upon a rise of stone, thrust
upward from the stony ground nearly thirty feet into the air, with no
easy access to the top for any land-bound creature, several meters
behind him. Before him, a stone wall towered, some thirty feet high,
split in two by a rocky defile, down which water had once run, carving a
path, to pool at the bottom of the hill, though it was dry now.

The man turned to the Lady, after staring for a minute with awed eyes at
the short man that dared to stand before the Huntsman, and face Lord
Ereth. "Lady," he breathed softly, "Is he truly the Lord Fey? I have
heard terrible things of him, but never that he had such strength of
will, and gave such weight to honor."

"He is the Lord Fey now. He cast down the one of whom you have heard,
defeated him in the very place where the old Lord was most powerful. His
is a pure heart, and a gentle spirit, but the rage of a tiger lies but
loosely chained within him."

"He seems so large, so powerful standing there, for one so small. Is he
a dwarf? I have heard tell of them and their power."

"No, he is no dwarf. He is human, and he is a man, but he has only seven
years. A child's body, but a man's strength, and a hero's heart."

"Seven? He's seven, and he is going to stand and face the Lord Ereth? My
God!" He moved as if to leap down, shamed suddenly that he was being
defended by a mere boy, but the Lady's commanding voice held him still.

"Stay! Do not go to him. You could but hinder my Lord. Do not fear. He
will stand firm against them, and they will break against him like
water."

Even as she spoke, the baying began again in the distance, and
steadily rose. As she finished speaking, hounds began to pour down the
small opening, filling the wide floor before him like flowing water.
They snapped and snarled at him, but as they approached, he began
to glow, and it seemed that blue fire flared from the ground at his
feet, and licked about him. The hounds growled, but fell back, and sat
in silent menace, as their masters approached.

The Huntsman appeared then, garbed in a woodsman's outfit, though the
cloth was black. In his hand he held a longbow, and the Lady was quick
to raise her hand, and whisper a phrase. The man beside her watched with
awe, as a shimmer rolled through the air around them. It seemed like
they were inside a soap bubble, as slow rings of iridescence rippled
through the air about them.

The Huntsman growled at the sight of the boy holding his dogs at bay,
and notched an arrow to his bow. His arm pulled smoothly back, bending
the mighty bow, and then releasing the arrow to fly a perfect course to
pierce the fool boy's eye and strike his brain. His mouth dropped in
shock, as the boy casually reached up and caught the arrow.

Then the boy's blade became a bow, and he notched the arrow, and it
burst into blue flame. The boy pulled back, and released, and the
flickering blue missile sailed past him, and impacted the rock wall,
causing it to explode outward, sending shards of rock down amongst the
dogs, sowing confusion and pain, though it caused no real injuries.

"I didn't need to miss." The boy's words were quietly spoken, but they
seemed to echo from all around, and there was steel in them.

"Oh, bravo. Well done, brave fool." A tall man in black armor clapped
his hands as he walked down the narrow defile behind his Huntsman. "My,
my, what have you done to yourself, Lord Fey? You were tall and strong
when I knew you last. Why do you take now the form of a boy to stand in
my way?"

"I am not the Lord Fey you knew," the boy replied quietly. Again, though
the dogs barked and growled, his voice came easily to the ears of all.
"I killed him, and took all that was his, and now I have taken your
prey. The Hunt is over, Lord Ereth. Take your dogs and go."

"Oh, no, Lord Fey. The Hunt is just begun! Now I shall have three harts
to pierce." He laughed at his own wry joke, and his laughter was hollow
and dark. "Go on, boy. Run, run before me, that I may hunt you down."
Again his hollow laugh echoed about them.

"How do you propose to make me run, Lord Ereth? You cannot move me."
Ranma replied calmly. While talking, Ranma had been reaching out with
his senses. He could see now the dark bonds that tied the hounds to the
Huntsman, and bound the Huntsman to his Lord. He could see them, and as
he looked, he could see the weaknesses. The Lady had told him that no
other magic user she had ever met had had his ability to so easily
dispel magic, when he could see it. He was powerless against some magic,
like that last invisible attack she had sent against him on his first
day of training. But when he could see the magic's weave in its
completeness, his touch could not be denied.

He held himself in readiness. He did not want to force Lord Ereth's
hand. He wanted the Lord to commit himself, before he acted, but he
truly wanted Lord Ereth to do this. He hated seeing anything held in
bondage, and he wanted to free them. But he admitted to himself that if
Lord Ereth backed down, and walked away, he would let him go, and would
not free the hounds.

He was right, in his confidence. Lord Ereth gestured to his Huntsman,
and the dogs surged forward, their fear of the fire overwhelmed by their
fear of the pain they would feel if they disobeyed. Ranma smiled, as he
reached out and tapped lightly, quickly, again, and again, and again.
Lord Ereth stared in shocked fury, as one after another his dogs stopped
fearing the Huntsman's call, and gave in to their exhaustion. They had
been forced to run well beyond their limits to catch up after Ranma's
swift flight, and once released, they fell quick victim to their torpor.
Finally, he released the Huntsman, who immediately turned and strung his
bow, loosing an arrow at his Lord.

Ranma was surprised at this reaction, but quick to respond, he tapped
it with his ki, and the arrow fell to dust before it reached the Lord
Ereth. Then he spoke again. "Huntsman, stop. I did not free you for you
to waste yourself in revenge. Get hence, before the dogs begin to
awaken, and remember your treatment of them, as you so clearly remember
the Lord Ereth's treatment of you. And you, Lord Ereth. You made the
wrong choice. Will you make the wrong choice again? Else do as I asked
in the beginning, and get thee gone from here." The Huntsman turned and
fled, not going near the Lord Ereth or the boy.

Lord Ereth snarled in fury, and ripping his sword from its sheath, leapt
at Ranma. Ranma's bow again became a sword, and it flared suddenly,
golden flames licking the blade. He met the Lord's headlong charge, and
turned it aside with the slightest movement. The hunted man, standing
beside the Lady, stared in wonder, as the black-armored Lord lunged
again and again at the boy, who stood wreathed in flames, and turned
aside each attack without even seeming to try.

Ranma was feeling distinctly grateful that this Lord had clearly allowed
his own skills to lapse, by using others to soften up his prey before
killing them. He was not even as good as Roga and Kyris had been. His
blade, however, was magical, and Ranma worked hard to ensure that it
never came in contact with him, concerned about what it might do.

Recognizing the manner in which the Lord was blindly attacking, Ranma
fueled the Lord's errant rage, taunting and insulting him, practicing
the long unused skills he had learned from his father. He knew that in
doing so he would probably have made an enemy for life, but he felt that
it was not worth trying to make this cold, hard man a friend. After all,
the man felt it necessary to magically enslave even his own servants...
not a promising sign.

As Ranma taunted him, the Lord Ereth pushed himself beyond his limits in
his fury, and quite suddenly, his body just stopped, and he collapsed
into sleep, lying spent upon the stony ground.

Arkus cried aloud in fury. Once again his hopes had failed him. He had
not dared touch Ereth's mind, for he would know it, being used to mental
control of his own slaves, but he had not needed to. Ereth had behaved
just as Arkus would have wanted him to, attacking all out. But the boy
had just stood there!

Arkus was not a martial artist, and didn't really notice the boy's
movements, minimal as they were. To him, it was as if Fey simply stood,
and yet nothing the Lord Ereth did could touch him. Was it the fire that
somehow forced the blade aside? Arkus had never seen such fire, and
definitely never seen the Dragon Fang glowing with golden flames before.
He was furious, but impotent in his rage, powerless to take more direct
action for fear of inviting retribution from his Lady.

Ranma turned to look at the Lady. "What shall I do with the dogs? And
the Lord?" The flames died about him as he sheathed his sword, and he rose
lightly through the air. The Lady dropped her magical shield as he
approached.

She smiled at him. "What do you think you should do?" She asked, eyes
twinkling, then warned, "Considering how dogs operate, if you leave them
here, they will likely kill kim, and form a pack, operating similarly to
a pack of wolves."

He sighed. Another test. Always it was another test. She was nearly as
bad as his father, for whom everything must be an exercise in training.
He considered. "I could place upon them a compulsion to seek their
birthplace. If I read the situation aright, these are not dogs the Lord
Ereth bred, for if they were, he would not have needed those magical
chains upon them. I think he stole them. If I did that, then I could
safely leave him here. He will recover consciousness quite shortly...
under half an hour, I'd say."

"That will do nicely. You have made me proud again, my Lord." She smiled
at him, then watched in silence as he went about his work. Then they
watched together, waiting patiently, until the first few dogs awoke, and
began to leave. When they saw that each took a different but definite
direction, they decided that all was well, and he wafted them gently to
the road.

He bowed to the man, who stood beside his horse. "I thank you again,
good sir. You stopped and offered aid to me and my companion, though you
did not know us, and though it put you at great risk. I would reward
you, if I could. Is there anything you would ask of me?"

The man looked at him, finally able to really see the boy, now that he
had banished his armor, and again wore his simple black silks. He knelt
before the boy, unsheathed his sword, and held it before him, and bowed
his head. "Only that you accept my sword in your service, Lord. I have
nothing now. Those I loved are dead, and I cannot return to my home. I
am nameless, and have nothing but my life, and were it not for you, I
would not have that. I offer my life to you now. Will you accept it?"
He looked up slowly and saw the boy's eyes swimming with an unnameable
emotion.

Ranma looked up at the Lady, and she nodded at him. He remembered her
description, one night in the study, of what it meant in this land, to
be without a name, without fealty. To be Nameless in this world was far
worse a fate than to be ronin in Japan. Though it sounded as if the man
were offering him something, he knew that in reality, he was asking to
receive something worth much more to him. Ranma sighed. It should not be
so, that a man's name be worth more than a man's life. But he could not
change the whole world, only his small piece of it.

"Give me your name, sirrah, and I shall give you mine." Ranma said
quietly.

"I am called Beorn, Lord."

Ranma took his sword, and touched him lightly on each shoulder with it.
"Then rise, Beorn of Fey, and take up your sword in service of the Lord
of Fey." He gave the sword back to Beorn, who rose slowly, tears of
gratitude glistening in his light brown eyes. "But now what am I to do
with you? I shall have to find a place for you, when we return. But I
cannot send you back without me... They won't know what to do with you.
Oh well, I guess you shall have to accompany us to see the dragon. What
do you think, Lady?"

"Indeed, he should accompany us." She smiled at Ranma, and he knew he
had done well. Again, he felt the unfamiliar delight of having won a
battle he had not been aware of fighting.

"T-to see a d-dragon, Milord?" Beorn's face turned pale again, but Ranma
was looking at the Lady, and didn't notice.

"Yes. We are going to visit the Lady's sister, to seek her aid with a
problem I have."

"Oh." was Beorn's response. I think I just swore fealty to the wrong
guy. He wants to go _visit_ a dragon? He saved me from Lord Ereth... now
who's going to save me from him?