Breis the Unicorn

The Minarian unicorn is but rarely seen, and most persons relegate him to the same category as the presumably-mythical Howling Man or Vanishing Cat. Nonetheless, many will swear that the Unicorn is as real as dragons or ogres. So it may be.

The Unicorn is called many things by different nations, but it is called after its single most identifying characteristic, the long fluted horn which projects from its forehead. Usually pale in color and resembling a small, supple pony in its upper parts, its rear legs are slender, even willowy, and its tufted tail is more like a lion's than an equine's. The Unicorn hardly needs further description, for the creature's image is a favorite motif on tapestry, rug, comforter, or, indeed, upon any work crafted to please the eye or excite the imagination.


The popular Unicorn of current heraldry most often sports a snowy-white horn, but a multi-color horn, white, black, and red, was common convention in antiquity. The change of color may be just the whim of changeable artistic style, though Larcaris Alard proposes that a red-tipped horn is the mark of the female of the species.

Naturalists, with their oftentimes-tiresome penchant for cheese-paring classifications, identify, or at least pretend to identify, sundry types of Unicorn. The Unicornis desterus is that one seen most often in the area areas of southern Shucassam, the Withering, and Blasted Heath, while the Unicornis silvanis is he who haunts the lonely evergreen stands Neuth, Immer, Muetar, Pon, and points north from there. The Unicornis australis, on the other hand, is relegated to Girion. Other writers simplify the matter however, insisting that the races of Unicorn number only two, Unicornis minari and Unicornis gironi, that is, a Unicorn for Minaria, and one for its southern neighbor. Still, while scholars may point out many variations between the divers races of Unicorns, few catalogers can be found to agree exactly what those significant differences are.

Trappers display Unicorn horns and hides aplenty in exchange for a copper or a short cup of sack, but many of these trophies have been summarily exposed as hoaxes of the most commonplace sort. Beyond dubious physical evidence of this kind, country people frequently make much to-do over what they call "Unicorn hoofprints," but, truly, the discreet naturalist has little to say on the subject.

An encyclopedist who must address the legend of the Unicorn must inevitably fall back upon the poor stuff which is legend and hearsay. Even so, this body of literature is a rich one and is constantly being added to.

In his small book, The Unicorn, His Origin and Ways, Halbok of Tilwith, whose kingdom, Muetar, stand out for the frequency and quality of it Unicorn visitations -- postulates a theory of his own which is very different from what his brother folklorists say. Namely, Halbok believes steadfastly that Unicorns are both of this world and not of it. He maintains that the Unicorn is actually the mount of the Goligo Favre, the air-and-vegetation fairy race which inhabits in invisible manors, and, yea, even entire towns which are elusive to the eye of man. Our subject is the Unicorn so we cannot here argue whether the Noble Folk are themselves real, but some men and women of note alive today, such as Schardenzar the warrior-sorcerer, claim to have been born of a half-fairly lineage, but who can know the truth about such matters?

Regardless, Halbok maintains that the Goligo Favre keep stables for their mounts, the Unicorns, as fair and clean as any which a mortal lord might apportion to his lady-love, and whose thirst is quenched not by any commonplace well or stream, but by sweet nectar of the type their lordly masters drink, and are fed with herbs and succulent greenery that the creatures' fairy mistresses culture within the concentric circles of magic gardens, where flowers are said to sing like birds and heavily-fruited trees breath contented sighs into the warm, scented breeze. So, though only a kept beast, fairy-bondage is easy for the species known as Unicorn.

How did the Noble Folk come to hold such animals? we might well ask. Were Unicorns, with their warlike horns, the mounts of the fairy knights, or with their graceful beauty were they the palfreys of their dames? Had they lived in the world of man since time immemorial? Possibly so, but many country wise men say that the Noble Folk were godlings in Paradise until there came the King of Heaven expelled whole tribes of his disobedient progeny, letting them tumble down from ethereal bliss into a world of trouble, care, and hardship ?- this, the daily travails of the material earth. Did the Unicorns fall with them as the fairies' loyal servants? Or did the Noble Folk find them grazing upon earth's sweet breast and take them into to Fairy Land in such numbers that they seemingly vanished from mortal woods and vale?

That this may be the case Halbok is willing to grant, but, he speculates, if Unicorns are not earthy, but are made of the same gossamer fabric as fairy bodies, how do they sometimes manifest themselves into the realm of Man?

Says Halbok, "As one horse is gentle and another is balky, as one dog is faithful and heedful, another is angry and roving, so it is with Unicorns. Will not a Unicorn who bolts from his master sometimes find his way abroad into his dwellings of Man? Shall not a sickly or ill-tempered beast be judged unworthy of a great lord's stable and so be turned out, to wander where he will?

Most frequently Unicorns are sighted near mystic spots -- standing stones of vast antiquity, haunted ruins, cursed forests, and fountains of magical repute. Could not such localities in fact serve as gateways from one world to another? Indeed, many are the story of men who have lost themselves near such spots and never return, or return with fogged recollection, or even mad and raving.

Halbok believes that not all Unicorns are alike, but neither are all horses either. Should the clever breeders of the Noble Folk not variate one bloodline of Unicorn for its color, or variety or horn, or size of body, or fleetness of foot?

Many are the chasseurs who have talked in sagely tones over their cups about the means to snare the elusive Unicorn with surety, but the spurious nature of their trophies seem to bespeak of either deliberate falsehood, folly of plan, or gross ineptitude of execution. Nonetheless, for what it is worth, many a huntsman will swear to his own various scheme for catching Unicorns:

All agree Unicorn-hunting is perilous work. The Unicorn's horn is a deadly spear and its owner possesses a fiery, aggressive nature. No animal which moves over the land is swifter. Indeed, it has been alleged that the Unicorn moves with unvarying speed over the most daunting obstructions and broken ground. Once the Unicorn lays claim to a forest or a hill, so it is said, certain beasts abandon the habitat to the invader and their very absence tells the hunter that a Unicorn may be near. The wild aurochs, for example, will steer clear of a Unicorn's range, though the lion, the snow tiger, and other carnivores seem to prowl without anxiety in the Unicorn's abode, since their diet of meat does not deprive the Unicorn of its desired pasturage. Yet the skeptic may ask, why would such beasts remain in the haunt of a Unicorn if its prey is fled. Surely these great killers have never been known to bring down the Unicorn, whether because they are repelled from it through the agency of instinct, or by bitter experience, having learned that it cannot be outraced by them, nor conquered if it stands boldly to the challenge.

But if Nature's creatures avoid the horn, men crave it, and not only men, for elves seem to be the most dogged of Unicorn-seekers. Alchemists believe that the magic horn of the Unicorn is proof against evil magic and poison. Assassin's wine stirred with a fragment of the horn is rendered harmless, just as utensils cut from it baffles the efforts of the most cunning poisoner to taint any of the other aliments of the table. Monarchs living under the constant threat of usurpers or jealous foreign rivals customarily offer great prizes to any hunter brings them, whole or in part, the coveted unihorn.

But so cunning and nimble is this sought-after beast that no hunter who would regularly eat dare trust to his own legs, his hounds' swiftness, or even his long-ranged bow to win a king's bounty. Instead, various techniques of stealth have been developed to bring the Unicorn to grief. Unicorn hunters oftentimes stand before a trunk of the soundest and stoutest oak and incite the creatures that come by with waving hats and raucous insults. When the Unicorn charges, its head low and horn leveled, the chasseur leaps aside at the last instant, allowing the Unicorn to bury his horn into the hard wood ?- which hopefully will hold it long enough for a butchering stroke to be administered.

But more many huntsmen than Unicorns are reported killed from this risky maneuver. Rather than hazard their own lives, the wisest huntsmen reportedly take a virgin maid with them into the Unicorn range, for it is believed that such maidens remind the Unicorn of their much-missed fairy mistresses and therefore they are lured near due to the memory of sweet feedings and gentle stroking. Some say that the virgin girl may hold the Unicorn's head unmoving upon their laps while the hunter saws off the horn.

But there are darker legends, also. If the girl is not a maiden but a lusty wench, for instance, her presence will not pacify but instead incites the Unicorn to furious anger. To flaunt a wanton before a Unicorn is therefore no less dangerous than the flapping of a red cape before the eyes of a bull. Once, the story goes, the royal concubine Effini of Elfland came upon a Unicorn in the woods near the Haven and was pursued by it through the mucks of a local bog until the horned one gave up the chase. Could that be true? Surely no elfin woman could outrun a Unicorn determined upon her apprehension. Possibly the Unicorn does no more than find woman's unchastity intoxicating and their subsequent behavior represents only a sort of drunken playfulness ?- or cantankerousness.

Very few Unicorns stand out as individuals, but there is one famous above all. What bards call the "king of the Unicorns," is a miraculous beast referred to as `Breis' by the Muetarans, and by other names elsewhere. This renowned Unicorn is remarkable for both his strength and swiftness in a fight, and also for his great courage, even recklessness, in approaching virgin maids. Yet no hunter has as yet successfully lain in wait for Breis using a maiden lure, so it may be that this Unicorn's craftiness is a match for his boldness.

It is said that Breis was once the war-mount of the King of Faerie-Land, from whom he was separated during one of the hidden battles that the Noble Folk wage incessantly against their age-old rivals, the Ta-Botann, that is, the dark fairies of the stones and underground. For some unknown reason, Breis has never found his way home to Fairy Land, or his master has not successfully sought him out.

Possibly a magical creature himself, Breis reputedly can smell magic at a great distance. The story goes that there was a village were maidens believed that she who is to be next wed may see her future husband in a certain mirror stone, which was the relict of a forgotten time and lay half-buried in a neighboring forest. A wheelwright's daughter stole away from her parent's house one night in the light of the full moon and accompanied four other adventurous girlfriends to gaze upon the mirror stone by the light of the full moon, for under such illumination its power was believed to be greatest.

Of all of them, only the wheelwright's daughter saw any reflection besides her own. Instead, she beheld a youth of blond hair and noble feature dressed in garments which betokened a prince, or a great lord's son at the very least. Her friends did not believe what she described to them and they teased her all the way home.

But the wheelwright's daughter knew what she had seen and brooded upon it, as no wise prince would deign to marry the dowerless daughter of a working man. Her melancholy oft took her back to the mirror stone, where the strange youth's image ever returned to torment her gaze. Who was he? Where was he? How could one like that find one like her?

Pondering these matters, the girl was startled one day to see a great white beast staring at her from between two holly trees. She took the eavesdropper for a horse at first glance, but the horn upon its head and snowy beard upon its chin told her that that her first guess must be wrong.

It was, as we have said, the Unicorn Breis. Suddenly the Unicorn stirred and warily approached the mirror stone, pausing to sniff it. The girl could see then that the youth's image had reappeared. Was it possible that the Unicorn could see it also? If this were so, she thought, he must be a very magical creature indeed.

Suddenly Breis bent his legs in a way that told the wheelwright's daughter that she ought to climb upon his back. Charmed by the docility of the creature and thrilled to think what it would be like to be seen riding a Unicorn through the middle of her village, the girl at last climbed upon the fairy animal's back.

Instantly she was born away, but not in the direction which she wanted to go. Instead, the trees and hills and plains passed by in a blur and almost before she had collected her thoughts enough to become frightened, the Unicorn paused before an alabaster palace standing in the middle of a linden forest.

The wheelwright's daughter had never seen so many linden trees in one place, but she recalled the how an old herb woman had occasionally spoken of the power of the plant, how its bough was hung over the door to protect the family within, and how its leaves and flowers were used in casting love spells. Many a boy that the girl new carried a small carving of linden wood to lend him good luck. So, like in a dream, she felt in some way charmed and protected the overhanging boughs.

Sliding down from Breis' back, the girl dared to enter the enchanted castle, wherein chairs, tables, and benches were all hung with cloth of gold. She saw many another thing of wonder, also, but her attention was soon drawn toward the perceived shuffle of footsteps. Then there came into the hall a young prince dressed in gold, whose face was the very one reflected in the mirror stone.

"Do not be afraid," said the one, "I will not harm you, but you alone can rescue me."

"I? From what?" she asked.

"From an evil enchantment," he replied, but would explain it no further. "You must pass three nights in the great hall of this castle, but you must let no fear enter your heart. When my enemies are doing their worse to torment you, you must bear it with not a sound and I shall afterwards be freed. Fear not, for they cannot take a life within these castle walls or their own must be forfeit."

"I'm only a wheelwright's daughter," she told him.

"Are wheelwright's daughters less brave than others where you come from?" he gently teased.

"No, I suppose they are not," she replied with a worried grimace.

"That is good," the prince smiled. "But the hour grows late and I must not be here with you when my enemies come."

He departed as suddenly he had come, and the girl, despite grave misgivings, resolved to keep vigil in the great hall all alone. Everything was quite until midnight, at which time a great cacophony of sound heralded the arrival of what turned out to be a host of little demons ?- possibly a small variety of Ta-Botann ?- pouring from the hollow of the chimney, from the chinks in the stone walls, and from the several doors. But though the wheelwright's daughter could hardly contain her impulse to run when she saw them, they acted as if they did not see her. Instead they commenced to dance ?- but they danced clumsily and kept falling over one another's feet.

"This is not right!" declared one of them. "We are being watched! Someone here does not belong!"

"It cannot be the prince," said another. "He is still under our spell and we have frightened all the others from the castle."

The demons started picking up handfuls of ash from the fireplace and casting it about themselves. Some of it settled upon the wheelwright's daughter.

"There she is! There she is!" cried the demons. Hidden no longer, the girl was set upon by the host of them, pinching her, punching her, beating her, and tormenting her every way they could, but she let no sound escape her lips.

Toward morning they vanished and the girl lay there, so exhausted she could barely turn over on her side. But as the dawn broke the prince entered the hall carrying a basin and a dab, wherewith he washed the maiden's bruised body all over. There must have been some benevolent magic in the bowl, for her pain and tiredness soon departed.

"You did well last night, but it will be even worse this evening, and worst of all the evening after that."

The village girl was dismayed to hear this dire pronouncement, but she passed the day in the castle, utterly charmed by the grateful prince, except that she regularly went out to due a mistress' duty to her faithful mount, which waited for her in the copse under the ramparts. Sometimes as the day progressed, she wondered whether she should not climb upon his back and speed home to spare herself another terrible ordeal. But her courage won out in the end when she thought about the troubles of the woebegone prince.

But, inevitably, just as the prince warned, the second night was much worse than the first. And the third night, when it came, was the worst of all. The hundred angry bogies seemed to want to tear her to pieces and only the warning of the wisest of them stopped there evil intention: "Do not slay her, brothers, or we are all doomed!"

Through it all, the girl said nothing and, at last, the demons disappeared for the final time and the prince came back with the water and dab, whose application removed all her gashes and wounds.

"Rise," he said, "and when she stood up beside him, the whole castle was released from the demons' enchantment. Suddenly the servants thronged back in as if they had never left and these brightly-dressed minions set up a table in the great hall, and on it a banquet was served up. Then the prince and the village girl sat down side by side, eating and drinking together, and that very the evening the wedding was solemnized with great rejoicing.

In the morning, the wheelwright's daughter, now a princess and a bride, went outside to feed and groom her faithful mount, but Breis was there no longer.

He had been a fickle friend, perhaps, but is it not a wise companion who knows when he is no longer needed??- And none has ever challenged the quality of horse sense possessed by the Unicorn known as Breis.



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