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.
Back to Legends