REN and Other Tales of Fantasy

Chapter One

We were known as noble creatures. As a centaur myself, I’d say we were a little bit snobbish, to say the least. Mankind revered us, went to us for advice. We had no patience for them, for humans who argued over trivial things.

As centaurs go, I’m a youngling. A filly, to be precise. Betrothed to the colt of the Hill Herd. We were of the Plains Herd. I was named after Andromeda, the constellation. That was fine, but it was a mouthful to say to some naïve humans. I hated their nicknames: Andro, or Droma.

Anyway, after I finished my astronomy studies one morning, I was allowed to go galloping on the plains. I loved the sweet smell of the grass, the rush of wind on my body, hear the thundering of my hooves on the plains, matching the beating of my heart.

One morning as I was galloping, I spotted a small herd of antelope grazing nearby. I immediately looked around, drawing out my bow and nocking an arrow, alert for danger. After a few moments of standing perfectly still, listening to the sounds on the wind, hearing the soft rustling of the grass, I heard nothing unusual. No plains-cats ready to attack. Nothing.

I returned my bow to my back. I brushed my brown hair over my shoulder. It was down to my waist. I continued walking, enjoying the brief hours I have of freedom until I had to return to my herd and my aloof parents for more lessons.

I wasn’t watching where I was going, and the ground went out under me. I yelped, instinctually throwing my hands out, trying to find something to hold onto. I collapsed in a heap, dirt and grass falling on me.

I let loose some swear words in my native tongue. I stood up…and winced. Gasping, I saw one hoof was bent. Tears filled my eyes in the pain. I heard scrabbling up top. Breathing heavily, I assessed my situation: injured on one hoof. In a pit. Nowhere to run. Stay and fight.

I withdrew my sword from my back, near my bow. I hefted it, hands wringing the handle as I waited. Seconds seemed to turn into minutes. Finally, the source of the scrabbling peeked over the edge. I hefted my sword higher, this time in anger.

The source were two human males, one blonde, one with black hair. The blonde on the left widened his eyes as soon as he saw me. Are you okay? he called down to me.

I injured a hoof in your stupid pit. I answer, anger coloring my voice. The human male who spoke furrowed his brow in concern.

Hold on. We’ll find something to get you out. The one with the dark hair disappeared.

The first speaker glanced at my sword. Could you put that away?

I sheathe it. You want to tell me why you have a pit here when there are centaurs around?

He opens his mouth, then closes it. Well, ah, we haven’t seen your kind in these parts before. So we figured you wouldn’t come this way.

I manage to lie down, sticking out my injured leg. I close my eyes, trying not to imagine myself strangling him when I get back out. Has it ever occurred to you, I say, gritting my teeth through the pain, that my kind travels everywhere, and that unlike humans, we are not confined in space?

Oh. Never thought of that. Sorry. The blonde shrugged. I clench my fists. The human chose that time to change the subject. So, what’s your name?

Andromeda.

Like the constellation?

Naïve human. Yes, like the constellation. Yours?

Andrew. My brother’s name is John. We’re from the village.

I nod to myself. The pit itself was meant to capture an animal other than me. Thankfully, there were no spikes or anything dangerous at the bottom, just loamy dirt. I couldn’t jump or climb out of here. The walls were straight down, not angled.

Andrew announced his brother’s arrival. John’s back!

John had gotten a large fishing net. He apparently brought several others from the village to help. I could instantly see where this was going. He and the other humans spread out the net and I limped into it, settling myself. Together, the four humans, John and Andrew heaved and pulled me out of the pit. Once out on the sweet grass, I got up and was about to run, when I crashed down on my injured hoof.

I heard a scream as I went down. That scream came from me. The grass in front of me seemed to waver, even though there was no wind. The humans behind me were mumbling and whispering to each other.

I felt my cheeks color as I thought of what a sight I was. I managed to right myself, and gingerly took a step, breathing heavily. The black haired male human appeared in front of me. I guessed his age at about seventeen, maybe older. Let me see your hoof.

He kneels down in front of me. His eyes were the same color as the sky, and I wondered why my heart was flittering. Certainly not from the pain. His hands were gentle. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw tightly, trying not to gasp when he touched on a sensitive area.

I opened my eyes and my heart stopped. He was staring at me, a lock of hair over his eyes, giving him a rakish look. Does that hurt?

Yes.

You need to rest that hoof. How far is it to your home?

I tear my gaze away from his eyes and point west and calculate in my head. About four-point-two-six-miles.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. So about four and some change?

I open my mouth to correct him, but I close it again. Let the humans think they know everything. As a centaur, I knew better.

My village is much closer. We could carry you in the net.

Standing on three legs was too much for me. I folded my legs as I had done in the pit, and sigh in relief. His brows are deeply furrowed in concern. You won’t make it just by limping. I mean, what does your kind do with broken limbs?

I had to grimace. So this human actually wanted to know our medicine. We put a poultice on the injured area. We have the patient rest for days after the bone is set.

He kneels down next to me. His brother Andrew come up to my side. Is she all right?

Andrew, get the net over here. Spread it out. We’ll carry her to the village.

He nervously glances to me, then sighs and nods. Okay. We’ll try.

I arrived in the net at the village, my hoof now swelling. I was well aware that my leather tunic did nothing to minimize my feminine features. I supposed that was why the male humans were ogling me. Never mind that I was a lined-back dun, with brown hair on my head.

The boys John and Andrew were brothers, as I learned, when the group hauling the net stopped at a brick house that looked exactly alike every other house, and ran in calling for their father.

A burly man came out, wiping bloody hands on a white apron. Terror suddenly gripped me. I fumbled for my sword, and I pulled it out, hefting it in front of me, expecting the man to appraise me and put a price on my meat.

He looked me up and down. His mouth tightened into a line. Where’d you find her?

I glanced over to the boys, who looked down at their feet. I had a suspicion that the boys were in deep trouble.

We found her in our pit, Father. We were hunting the antelope herd. The burly man furrowed his brow and seemed to study me harder as they continued talking. Her right leg is injured, near the hoof.

Mm. He came forward and I angled my sword towards him, still suspicious. Easy there, let me see your hoof. When I made no motion to let him, he sighed, patiently. I’m not only a butcher, I’m a doctor.

I lower my sword in defeat. I sheathe it and let him take a look. His hands are just as gentle as John’s. I gasp in pain as he touches on a sensitive area. He lets go and nods.

All right boys, let’s get her inside.

I’m dragged inside, past huge curved hooks that send shivers down my spine as my imagination goes wild, past a large table that has blood dripping off it, making me feel nauseous, to a back room where there were shelves devoted to jars of unidentifiable things. The father disappeared into a small room and returned, carrying jars of things, and linen. He made a paste with the liquids, stirring the jasmine and rosemary mixture until it resembled a gritty texture.

He spread it on my hoof, with me biting my lip to avoid yelping in pain. His dark eyebrows pushed together in concern. I’m going to have to set the bone. This may hurt.

May hurt, I thought. It will. He jerked on the hoof and I gasped, stars dancing in my vision for a few seconds. When they cleared, I saw that he was wrapping the hoof in the linen.

You’ll have to stay in the stables until this heals.

How long? I have to get back to my herd.

About a few days. Luckily, it was a clean break. Because my sons got to you soon enough, it’ll heal faster.

The logic didn’t appeal to me. As much as I hated to admit it, I was in debt of these humans. They rescued me, helped me. With the man’s help, I was able to stand up and test the leg. I relaxed, as I was able to limp to the nearby stables. I noticed several children whispering and pointing to me as I limped alongside him. His dark brows didn’t move from their positions as he talked.

I don’t know what you centaurs usually do, but I hope the stables are okay.

They’re fine. I managed to smile through the dull pain. The street was dirt, another thing I grudgingly had to admit I liked as cobblestone would have been disastrous with my injury. A stall was open, and I was secretly glad to get away from the horrible blood smells of the butcher-doctor’s shop.

I settled down on the fresh hay, nearly collapsing onto it as I stuck my injured leg out. The butcher watched me intently as I carefully took off my weapons and laid them beside me. I lay down on my side and sigh deeply in relief and content.

Well, hope you’re comfortable. My sons will see to your comfort. Do you need anything right now?

No, thank you. I’m fine. I close my eyes, suddenly finding myself tired. I hear the man leave, his heavy footsteps receding on the wooden floor. I just didn’t know when I fell asleep.

Chapter Two

The next morning, the dull pain in my hoof woke me. I instinctually tried to move it, and groaned, remembering not to. I smelled something delicious beside me. I look around and see a small pile of apples beside me. My stomach rumbled in response, and I ignored the human smell that accompanied the fruit as I devoured the pile, tossing the cores to the side.

You were hungry.

I freeze, about to take a bite. Anger flashed through me, irritation at being disturbed. If you were injured in the same way, you’d be hungry, too. I tell the speaker whom I recognize as John.

Do you want more?

I’m fine.

We have plenty-

I’m fine. I snap, taking the last bite and tossing the core away with more force than I did the others.

He comes around to the front and opens the stall door. He sits down beside me, watching me with those sky-blue eyes. I’m sorry we hurt you.

You should know better than to make pits in our territory. He bows his head, and flash of guilt races through me. But, apology accepted. I add, smiling a little. He nods, his shoulders relaxing.

He changes the subject. So, your kind. Centaurs know everything, right?

Pretty much. We can read the stars and predict the future, we can decipher texts, and we live quite long. So, yeah, pretty much we know everything.

You certainly flaunt it.

I sigh, restraining myself from making snarky replies. We might seem snobbish to you humans, but we are quite learned. Humans would do well to learn from us.

But you can’t force us.

I shake my head. Stubborn humans. You humans are stubborn and naïve. I shift my weight, and suck in a breath as I involuntarily twitch my injured hoof. Without warning, he takes my hoof in one hand and rubs his thumb gently on my fur. I swallow, wondering why my breath suddenly sped up, my heart start fluttering again.

I knew it was wrong. I was betrothed to the heir of a powerful herd. The status of my herd would rise greatly with our union. The hand gently set my hoof down. Dad did a good job. Swelling has gone down tremendously.

We heal quickly. I say, in an attempt to not focus on my fluttering heartbeat. I think your father knew that. He said I would be healed in a few days.

So, you’ll go back?

Yes. I was about to add, to my betrothed, but thought better of it. I’ll g back to my herd.

He’s quiet, and I suddenly find myself alarmed. I study his face, looking for clues as to what he’s thinking. Suddenly he stands up. I should probably get you more apples. He leaves abruptly, closing the stall door behind him none too gently.

I was left confused. I had answered his questions as truthfully as I could. Lies were frowned upon in my herd. Tears came to my eyes, and I wipe them away. I closed my eyes, the conversations going over in my head, searching for…something.

I heard his light footsteps return. The stall door opened, but instead, it was Andrew, the blonde kid. He was carrying a bucket of apples. His blue eyes were wide this morning in excitement.

Here you go! More apples! he cheerfully announced, setting the bucket in front of me. You want me to stack them for you?

No, I give a forced smile, it’s fine. They’re more contained in the bucket, and I won’t slip on them if I try to get up. I shut my mouth, suddenly wondering why I’m babbling. Unbecoming of a centaur, as my father would say.

He merely shrugs. Okay. Well, do you need anything else? I mean, do centaurs eat meat?

I shake my head vigorously no. We don’t eat meat at all. We do practice archery and swordsmanship, but we don’t hunt meat.

Oh. He nods in understanding. I had to smile.

Did I debunk a common rumor?

He nods. Yeah. I’ve heard from other boys that centaurs eat meat and that given the chance, they’ll kill and eat humans.

I burst into laughter at the absurdity of it. My laughter turns into a mixture of laughter and groaning when my leg twitches. Where on earth did that rumor ever start? It’s absurd!

He frowns in confusion. But I’ve always known it.

Andrew, we don’t eat humans. We believe humans are beneath us, intellectually, and that given the chance, humans would treat us noble creatures just the same as every other domesticated equine that occupy these stables. We see that as an insult to us.

Andrew grinned a lopsided grin, making his eyes twinkle. So, no riding on your back?

I bristle at the thought. Absolutely not. We don’t allow humans to degrade us in that manner.

Okay, just checking. You are part horse, after all. Winking to me, he stands up and whistles as he leaves the stables. I heard him call over his shoulder, See you later, Andromeda!

I had been taught to be patient, but during the long hours between visits, I found myself…well…impatient. I passed the time reciting facts from my newest lessons, repeating them to myself as I