Chapter Two: Beige, and Gouging Mr. Redfern/

During the reign of their majesties King Jonathan and Thayet, his queen, someone passing though the Royal Forrest of Corus would most likely expect to find a flock of Hurroks and a Spideren.

They would not--at least in broad daylight--expect to see a tall, rather beige looking clerk kissing a wildly struggling girl.

But today both girl and clerk were in the forest--doing just that.

Perin Redfern was having the time of his life. Fate--in all her glory, appeared to be smiling on him. He'd spent the greater part of the day lapping up the attentions of the beautiful, practically perfect Daine Sarrassri (and only practically perfect, Perin thought, because of that unfortunate illegitimacy business. But everybody had their faults.) Anyway, one thing had led to another and he--Perin the charismatic

clerk--was kissing her. True, she appeared to be struggling rather violently, but…outside of work he never really harped over details. What did it matter?

Daine was having one of the worst times of her life. Fate--in all her glory, appeared to be frowning on her. After a morning of rediscovering gravity, she'd been in a certain clerk's company for over two hours. Which, according--rather correctly, she thought--to her Player/Rider friend Evin Larse was "akin to having one's nails pulled out while listening to the Master of Protocol go over the angles required when bowing to a Lordship, Baron, or Merchant turned Noble." Now--against a background of dark, heavy trees which were wet from recent rain--he was kissing her, and--flattering as his attentions may have been--Daine was wishing fervently that her swain were a very long way away. The Roof of the World for preference, but any other country would do, or a cave somewhere.

As she tried to push away, young Mr. Redfern found that new ideas were starting to form.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the clerk began to unbutton the girl's blouse.

Daine panicked. Pinned against a damp tree as she was, there wasn't very much she could do to get out of her current situation. Even if there were a way, he would most certainly just grab her again. Was this what happened to Ma? Daine wondered, in a small, detached, corner of her mind.

Her mind.

I am so stupid! She thought, giving another, harder push. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Loudly, frantically, she tried to call the People to her.

It didn't take very long.

Soon, the entire animal population of the Royal Forest seemed to appear--biting, scratching, doing everything in their power to make Perin let go of their friend.

Perin dropped Daine as if she were a hot brick to try--unsuccessfully--to fend off the creatures.

"You can stop now," Daine said aloud, grinning. With some reluctance--leaving a final scratch or gouge as a parting gift--the animals obeyed.

"Bitch," Perin muttered. He looked quite a sight, clothes torn, face a mass of scratches.

Daine stopped grinning,

"Perin," she said, slowly and clearly. "You've made a very big mistake, today. I'm not going to forget it. If you so much as look in my direction again, then," she sighed; he glared-- "the same thing will happen. But I don't know if I could hold the animals back a second time--they get fair protective of me"

"Thought you liked it, sweetheart," the clerk--somehow--still managed a suggestive leer.

Daine groaned. "Yes, I liked it," she said. "About as much as I like watching paint dry."

Suddenly, Perin - wishing desperately for a witty retort--saw something that made his pale face lose what little colour it possessed. A herd of unicorns. And not the peaceful kind. Those avoided human contact whenever possible, and were pretty and silvery, with a bit of a thing for blue-eyed, blond, cherubic virgins with soft voices. No, indeed. This herd was the other type of unicorn. The killer unicorns, which where massive and scarred, with a big, very sinister thing for all living creatures--cherubic soft-spoken virgins or no--and a predictable (yet no less horrible) fetish for human blood.

Having decided that he'd allow himself the luxury of self-pity, Numair Salmalìn stared moodily at his desk and wondered why--in the names of Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith (particularly Shakith)--Daine was attracted to Perin Redfern. It seemed warped, and completely out-of-character.

It's just…wrong!

Of all the numerous young eligible men in the palace, Perin had to be the most boring, useless, unambitious one around. The very air he breathed was wasted, since he couldn't do anything half decent with the life it gave. If he had the initiative to take an interest in the world around him, he'd be a conservative, wasteful leech. Narrow minded and obtuse, Numair saw no reason for him to exist at all. If people were colours, he'd be beige. Numair just didn't see anything remotely likeable--let alone

seductive--about the man. Numair groaned, and glared at his curtained window. "I thought she would have better taste!"

"Talking to yourself again?"

Numair started, and turned to glare at the eavesdropper. "Something for you, Onua?"

The K'mir just laughed.

"Don't worry Numair," she said. "I won't tell anyone. Besides, everyone in the palace knows you're mad. I don't need to."

"Thank you, oh so much," he retorted--smiling in spite of himself.

"Don't mention it." Pushing black hair out of her grey-green eyes, Onua walked into the room and perched on the desk. "Who has better taste, you say?"

Numair shrugged. He didn't feel like explaining himself just that moment, not even to one of his best friends. "No one," he said, flatly.

Onua's eyebrows emigrated towards her hair. "Oh, a No One, is it?" she asked. "Does this particular No One have curly hair, a persistent Gallan accent and a 'knack' with animals? Do I pay her wages?"

"You can go away now, thanks."

Onua's expression, when faced with the half-sad, half-angry, rather pathetic one on Numair's face, softened. "Stop doing this to yourself, friend," she said, smiling a little. "You love our Daine--"

"You knew?"

The woman ignored him. "--And that's wonderful for you," she continued. "But don't be an idiot about it."

"You…knew?"

"Of course I knew, dolt! Could see it coming from a mile off, plain as if it were written down. Alanna's tales of your little Carthaki adventure just tied everything off."

Numair put his head in his hands. "Am I that obvious?"

"Tragically." Grinning, Onua slipped off the desk and headed towards the door. "Oh," she called over her shoulder. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Alanna and I've been betting over this for months now. You've just given me ten gold Nobles."

Numair snorted. "So glad that the deepest, darkest desires of my heart have contributed to your income."

"Glad to hear it," said Onua. "If you manage to tell her after Midsummer--not before, mind--then you'll give me another fifty."

The Mage shook his head. "You'll never see that money, I'm afraid."

Onua simply smiled, and walked through the door. "And Numair--"

"Ye-es, Onua?"

"Go outside. You need the exercise."

She left.

"What is it, Perin?"

The clerk's rapid change of expression from belligerent to terrified was starting to get Daine worried. There was something…some presence the girl found almost impossible to describe, behind them. Something terrible, and--it was the only way she could think of it, in colours--a blackened bronze, streaked with a putrid red. Slowly, she turned around--and bit back a scream. Struggling to remember everything--anything--she had learned on killer unicorns.

They…they don't have very good eyesight! Rely on hearing! Yes, they rely on hearing, Daine thought, trying not to breathe and very nearly succeeding. If I stay absolutely still, and don't…

Perin--bless him--gave a loud moan of terror and fled, jerking the unicorns into hunting mode. They looked around, ears moving independently as they tried to work out which part of the landscape they'd like to eat first. As one body, the heard moved towards the girl.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no onononononononono! Daine stared, horrified and fascinated, at the creatures--unable to move an inch. Just like the kitten, she thought, wildly. Oh no! Go away unicorns. Be good; come on. No need to eat me, really.

The People were crying out loudly in her mind. They wanted to rip, tear, maim and kill the Immortals that were a danger to The Girl that was The People. Daine--even though she was quite nearly out of her wits--kept her will on them. She wasn't going to let any of the People die.

Numair had just acted upon Onua's advice and was walking morosely and aimlessly towards the palace gates--which kept the royalty away from the roads--when he saw Perin, bleeding, scratched and white, running full pelt from the opposite direction. Away from the Forest. Away from the Forest, and without Daine.

It took Numair approximately thirty-seconds to grab him by the collar.

It took Perin even less to flinch, and point with a trembling hand in the direction from which he had come.

It took a good two minutes, however, for him to whisper three dreadful syllables. One dreadful word.

"Unicorns."