Myth-Told Tales

In the sparse forest outside the courtyard the riders spread out behind the dragons. The firebreathers were sniffing the ground for the princess's scent. I'd never seen control like it Normally, adult dragons would be straining against the controllers, fighting to get loose to kill and loot. These behaved like a troop of experienced blood-hounds. Then I gave myself a mental slap on the fore-head: they were experienced bloodhounds. These dragons and their owners rode on hunts all year round. Only those in the hands of strangers like Alf who were here only for the prize had to hang on tight and keep their dragons on the job. Gleep, swift-footed and smaller than the others, kept dashing underneath the feet of the big ones, smelling a patch of ground here, nibbling a leaf there. I swear at one point he looked up and gave me a wink.

Naw. Couldn't be. Must have been dust in his eye.

I didn't have much of a chance to concentrate on the dragons. Just staying on my mount took all my attention. The trees that weren't hammered down by the stampede of dragons whipped at us with blade-sharp twigs. I spat out leaves and hunkered grimly over Fireball's neck. Not a hundred yards out of the courtyard I saw riders dropping out of sight and heard their yells—the first fence and ditch had claimed its victims. I calculated from my approach vector my 'hippus was going to have to gather himself and leap up six feet and forward twenty. As if he could read my thoughts, he danced sideways and cast an eye over the fence into the pit, where a dozen of his fellows and their riders were crawling out of the mud. "Come on, Fireball."

It peered back at me, and distinctly shook its head. That tore it for me. I grabbed a handful of its mane, shoved its face into the fence rail.

"Come on, you mangy barrel of shark bait!" I shouted, giving it my full lung power. "Jump that fence or I'll throw you over!" My voice echoed in the forest, momentarily drowning out the dragons. Fireball's head swayed, as though its ears were ringing. With an expression of new-respect, it backed up slowly, then broke into a steadily increasing gallop. I braced myself, and we sailed over the rails and the ditch, landing a dozen feet clear. My spine jarred heavily. I saw a couple of my fellow hunters grin at me, as they stood up in their stirrups to absorb the impact with their knees. Jerks.

Fireball didn't miss a step, going straight from that balletic leap into a full canter.

The landscape cleared almost at once from thick forest to open scrubland. Miles ahead of me the dragons had already fanned out with their noses to the ground. In the midst of the red, green, gold, or black giants was a little blue form, scooting back and forth like a mouse under elephants' feet. An ouroboros, its tail still tucked in its mouth, lay on the ground twitching, probably trampled by one of its big cousins as it tried to roll among them. Pages from the palace ran out with a stretcher and a medical kit I felt a momentary qualm. If Gleep got squished Skeeve'd be upset. I'd better look out for the little guy.

In the meantime I had to keep an eye on the rest of the hunters. The head count before we'd ridden out was twenty. I could still see the other nineteen. Unless one of them had left behind an illusionary twin, that was. I peered at each one, trying to see if any had fuzzy edges or were repeating the same actions over and over. Nothing so far.

I'd have hated to see this landscape during spring floods; it would be so soggy you could grow cranberries. As it was, the going was messy. Fireball's big hooves caked with mud that went suck-popl whenever he picked up a foot. Prince Bosheer halted to take a look around, and his 'hippus sank up to its belly, and we all learned an important lesson about this field: if you stopped you got mired. I kept my heels ready to kick if Fireball looked like he was slowing down.

"Bad luck," I called, as I suck-popped past him.

"No problem," he said, cheerfully, freeing a field shovel from his saddle pack. He climbed off and started digging. Quite a guy. I had to have respect for somebody who could be philosophical about a situation that could put him out of the running so early in the contest.