The Horse without a Rider

The streets were empty once more. And silent. Besides, of course the clopping of Ulrich’s hooves. I was making an effort to sneak, but with Ulrich making such a noise, I might as well run about, yelling, “We’re right here! Come and stab us! Take the horse first!” I wanted to say something of that sort, but I held my tongue.

We were not far from the center of town, well within the range of Heide’s music attack.

“Watch yerself, Mr. Prince,” said Ulrich, his dark eyes darting about, “Might be a good idea to keep yer sword drawn.”

“Yes, it would be,” the sword slid silently from my sheath. “So, how should we start our approach?”

Ulrich snorted, “Whaddya mean? We charge straight in.”

I scoffed at that. “Is that your answer to everything?”

“Pretty much,” grunted the horse, “It’s how my rider, Sheriff Tod, did things, and it’s worked out so far.”

“Didn’t stop you from being thrown in jail,” I murmured.

“Oof, low blow, Mr. Prince, but you’ve got a point.” Ulrich’s tail swished behind him.

We were silent as we approached the square. I pressed my back against the wall and sidled close enough to peer into the center.

It was empty.

`I could see across the entire square. The only thing that moved were the leaves of decorative trees that dotted the cobblestone plaza.

I cursed. “Not good.”

“She must be huntin’ for the little lady.”

“Then why have we not seen a single person on the way here? You would think she would be combing the streets nearby.”

Ulrich grunted, “She might have somethin’ else in mind.” Then the horse let out a sharp whinny. “Gol dernit, she’s takin’ everyone to the city border!”

“I see! With that many people under her control, she’d be able to block our escape!”

Heide had missed our arrival, but she would not miss our exit. And not only ours. Albert and the freed citizens were in danger, as well.

“Then, we must hurry,” I made a motion to grab Ulrich's neck and pull myself up on his back, but the horse shook his head, the hood threatening to fall from his head.

“Don’t even think about it, boy!”

“I have experience riding without a saddle. If you just let me–”

“There’s only one man that I’ll let ride me. And it’s not you!”

“But–”

“I said no! Yer hoofin’ it, whether you like it or not!”

There was not even time to roll my eyes at Ulrich’s obnoxious play on words.

Together, Ulrich and I rushed forward through the square. The horse quickly began to out pace me. Which made sense.

“That’s far enough, prince!” Herman’s voice rang through the square.

My eyes found the boy immediately, standing atop the roof of a butcher’s shop, crossbow trained once again.

“Lady Heide thought you’d come back this way, and tasked me to–”

“Shut up! I don’t have time for your nonsense!” I had not stopped once as the boy spoke, “Ulrich, stick close to me, but keep moving! Don’t stop, whatever happens.”

“Stoppin’ never even crossed my mind.” Ulrich continued forward, but trotted at a pace that I could feasibly keep up with.

Herman was out of sight, but I could hear the sound of the bolt firing. That would be my only warning. I shoved my shoulder into Ulrich’s very solid flank, pushing us both rightward just in time for the bolt to whiz past my left ear and plink off the cobblestone, clattering to the ground.

About one and a half seconds between the sound of firing and the bolt reaching us. That time would only increase the more distance we got from Herman. My ears were pricked for the sound of Herman chasing after us. It was difficult to hear over Ulrich’s hooves, and my own footfalls, but I managed to hear the distinct sound of another bolt being fired.

I barely had time to count as I spun around and slashed my sword. The edge connected with the bolt right before it reached my chest. The deflected projectile spiraled away. But I did not register which direction it had flown in as I reoriented my running back to its original path without missing a step.

Ten seconds to reload.

He would have time to fire one more shot before we made it to the safety of the next block. That was, if we were lucky, which we were not.

I thought about weaving through the trees, but they were too small and out of the way to provide any useful coverage. But that no longer mattered as at least ten guards spilled into the streets, brandishing their swords. But Ulrich did not hesitate as he plowed through them, with his massive body. I noticed he avoided trampling them with his hooves as they were knocked under.

The sound of the crossbow being shot cut through the clatter. It was impossible to tell if Herman had moved with the din the guards were making. But I could not allow this one to pass me in case it hit a guard. On blind faith alone I pivoted and held the broad side of my sword across my chest, over my heart. As I faced the oncoming bolt, I managed to see it just in time and adjusted my guard an inch higher. I shoved the sword forward to meet the dart, which bounced with a dink.

I flashed the boy a grin before I turned round and hopped over the fallen guards with ease and into the cover of the corner building.

Ulrich was not far ahead. I quickened my pace and caught up with him.

“Seriously, though, Sheriff, we would be faster if you let me ride you.”

Ulrich snorted, “What part of no do you not understand?”

I gave him a withering stare, “Come now, be reasonable. Are you really going to be stubborn about this?”

“Yes. One man, and one man only, y’hear?” The tone of self-importance in his voice would put even me to shame.

I could not help but roll my eyes, “Is that the previous Sheriff, then? Must have been someone patient to have been able to put up with your sour attitude.”

“Not really, no.”

“What kind of person was this Sheriff Tod, then?”

“Well, actually, Steel was just somethin’ he called himself.” grunted Ulrich, “His real name was Gerhard Schultz.”

Time seemed to stop around us as that name echoed in my skull. I was so in shock that I nearly tripped over myself, but I managed to stay on my feet as I stared at Ulrich. “G-Gerhard Schultz? As in Gerhard ‘Holy Sword’ Schultz?”

The horse was about to answer my question, when another mess of guards spilled from the alley. I did not care enough to count. I barely looked at them as I raised my sword to parry an attack or two. My attention was solely on Ulrich, who had reared up and knocked a few soldiers on the head with his hooves.

The guards backed away enough for Ulrich to return to all fours. “Yep. You know of him?” he said casually.

My befuddlement could not be summed up in words as I unconsciously drove the surging guards back. “Do I know of him?! How could I not know one of the Sainted Seven?”

They were the elite of the elite guard in Ald Alira. Seven of Iliana’s chosen acolytes dispatched to end any conflict if the High King could not through negotiation. Their power was unmatched. So much so that all seven gathering in one spot was said to change the very weather around them. To even bring about new phenomena, just by their presence alone.

Yet even their power was not enough to defeat the Demon King. All of them had fallen before his might over twenty years ago. At least, that was the story. Now, however…

I continued to stare at Ulrich, mouth agape. “You’re telling me that Gerhard Holy Sword was your master? As in the previous Sheriff of Justice? Whom you said died thirteen years ago?”

“Yep.” His tone was far too nonchalant for my liking. It was jarring to the point that I thoughtlessly used too much strength in my next swing, which caused my blade to shatter. It was no issue to retrieve another one from an oncoming guard, but it served as a momentary distraction from my constant staring at Ulrich.

“Don’t say ‘yep’ as if you didn’t just casually reveal the most incredible information you could!”

Ulrich turned his head to look at me while simultaneously punching a guard in the chest with his front leg. The man fell back, completely winded. “Didn’t know it was such a big deal.”

“No big deal?! How is learning that one of the strongest warriors to ever exist died over ten years after he was said to have not a big deal?” I caught a guard by the wrist and twisted it so the blade fell from his grip. I then punched him in the jaw to knock him out cold.

“Doesn’t really matter who he was. I only knew him as Sheriff Steel when he tamed me,” said Ulrich as he broke through the guards’ line and created a path for me to follow, “He only told me his real name on his deathbed.”

I shook my head in exasperation, “Unbelievable… Did anybody else know?”

“Don’t know, don't care. He never talked about himself, except for when he first tried to ride me.”

I was nearly out of breath as I struggled to keep up with Ulrich, who charged forward at a faster pace. “Ah, yes,” I panted, “the man who was not so-called ‘Kurt the Wrangler.’”

“Yessir.” In contrast with me, Ulrich did not seem out of breath at all. “Kurt tried and tried, but no matter what, I would always manage to buck ‘im off. He kept me in solitary confinement fer three days, with barely enough food to keep me alive, but I did not give up. Bucked ‘im right off the moment he sat on me. This way to the southern gate.”

We turned left into a wide street. I could see stragglers running a good distance away. None seemed to be guards.

Ulrich snorted and muttered, “Don’t be fooled, Mr. Prince. Any person we see this close to the border has no doubt been put under that woman’s spell.”

“I agree,” I said warily. We mercifully slowed to a brisk walk as we kept our eyes peeled for any more potential ambushes. The citizens walked casually about, though none of them looked at us.

As we walked, Ulrich continued his story, “I swore Kurt was on the brink of labelin’ me a lost cause and killin’ me on the spot, but just then a man appeared sittin’ on the corral. He was laughin’ somethin’ fierce.” Ulrich raised his head and gave another high, whinny of a laugh. Immediately, the citizens all seized and ran away screaming, their spell disrupted.

One of the citizens shouted at us, “She’s patrolling the East gate. I could hear her thoughts.”

Another shouted before both ran away, “Get her out of our town prince and mysterious hooded horse!”

I pretended not to hear that last part as I shot him a look, “Why did you not do that for the guards?”

Ulrich laughed again as we turned another corner and picked up our pace, “I recognized most of ‘em. Some of ‘em were Jurgen’s men. And some of ‘em were just a buncha slackers that needed a good donk on the head to learn their lesson about messin’ with their sheriff. That’s the Steel way of doin’ things.”

“I see.” I made a mental note never to get on Ulrich’s bad side. “Is the Steel way… how he managed to finally tame you?”

“Not at all. That’s how he tamed Kurt, though. Gerhard just kept laughin’ at the man. Eventually I started laughin’ too. Couldn’t help it, the man’s excitement was infectious.

“I’ll never forget the first words he said to me then. He told me, ‘You’re a weird one, Mr. Horse. Never seen anyone as tough as you, man or beast.’”

He snorted at that before continuing, “Kurt was embarrassed to say the least, and actually raised his sword to slash at my leg. But before I knew it, Kurt was layin’ on the opposite side of the corral, half through the fence. When I looked back at the laughin’ man, he was still there on the fence, laughin’ even harder. I hadn’t seen him move or anythin’, but somehow, I knew that he was the one who sent the Wrangler flyin’.”

That sounded like something a member of the Sainted Seven would be capable of.

To think that such an elite warrior was living under my nose all my life and no one knew. I wanted to know more about why Gerhard chose to live as a lowly sheriff, but at that moment, my ears picked up the distinct sound of Heide’s flute.

This time, I was ready. My sword was sheathed in an instant as I used my fingers to plug my ears to the mind-bending music.

I noticed immediately that Ulrich made no attempt to hinder his hearing. Not that I knew how a horse would be able to do so, but the sheriff merely stood in place, looking at me.

I could not help but voice my concern.

Ulrich grunted, and his mouth moved. I could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were quite muddled. Not being well-versed in reading the lips of talking horses, I took the risk and removed a finger from an ear.

“Come again?”

“I said, the Siren’s music doesn’t work on me. Don’t know why. Just follow me and keep doin’ what yer doin’. The east gate’s a bit further, but I doubt she’s there anymore.”

I returned my finger to my ear and followed Ulrich, wondering why he was immune to Heide’s hypnotic call. I did not have long to think as Ulrich turned out to be right. She appeared again as we ran out of an alley and into a small courtyard.

It was easy to spot her as the crowd surrounding her was thin. Only about six or seven guards and a handful of citizens.

The courtyard was rather humble, with the only remarkable feature being a small drinking fountain set against a wall, which was off, the basin below, dry.

She sat on the rim of the basin, still playing that accursed flute. The enslaved dotted the courtyard, and all faced her with annoyed expressions on their faces. All but one guard. A helmeted man with an enormous black mustache and sunken, dark eyes, which darted about until they settled upon me. He was taller than I was by about four inches or so. He looked down on me and grinned.

For her part, Heide looked rather a mess. Her clothes were torn in numerous places and her hair was unkempt. Even still, her face was composed. For someone who had been attacked by an angry mob, she was remarkably unhurt with only a few scratches and bruises on her pale skin.

I took a moment to survey our surroundings. Apart from the fountain, there were six doors to residences. There were also four exits between the main road and back alley, including the one we entered from. Plenty of space to wage a battle. And, more importantly, plenty of places for citizens to escape.

“Heide!” I cried, though with my ears plugged, my voice filled my inner ear.

She did not stop as I had hoped. I could still hear the music in the air–rather, I could feel it gnawing the skin of my face like a swarm of pixies. It was easy enough to avoid the music if I remained as I was, but the guards were turning on us, drawing swords.

Like a distant echo in the back of my mind, I heard Heide’s voice as formal as ever. Do not think you can avoid me forever, Prince Anno. You will tell me where Lina is.

I wish there was a more dignified way I could answer her beyond looking like a toddler pretending not to listen to his mother, “Never.”

Very well. I tried to be courteous... The crowd began to charge toward us, even the civilians.

My blood boiled at that. I let my hands fall to my sword as the music filled my ears. Heide’s sound waves bound my arms, but only for a moment, as my rage gave me strength enough to break her hold.

The music stopped as did the people, though they remained still. Heide’s eyes snapped open, her face paler than usual. Beads of sweat appeared on her face. “N-no! How did you–!”

I answered by pulling my sword from its sheath in a slow and deliberate fashion. I could feel fire in my eyes.

“How dare you treat my subjects so shamefully!” I took the Plow guard and waited for Heide’s next move.

Ulrich snorted beside me, “Same for you Jurgen!”

The man with the dark mustache gave a start, “How do you know my name, stranger?”

“I am no stranger,” said Ulrich, who shook his head enough to finally knock the hood from his ears.

Jurgen took a step back with an audible gasp. “I-it can’t be!”

Even the enemy was fooled?! I stared at Jurgen with an incredulous expression on my face. I could swear my eyes were bugging out of my skull. Any attempt at dignity was impossible.

I would burn that cloak if it was the last thing I did!

“That’s right, it’s me, old friend,” Ulrich raised his head so that he was looking down on Jurgen. “Now, give me back my city.”

At least the Sheriff had the wherewithal to remain serious. Despite him being a horse, I could feel Ulrich’s righteous indignation from here.

I did my best to compose myself and glare at Heide, whose lips had returned to her flute. The music would no doubt be strong enough to bind me to her will once again. I would not be able to free myself a second time. I opened my mouth to warn Ulrich, but the Sheriff already beat me to the punch.

Ulrich’s high-pitched neighing cut through the courtyard, sending the imprisoned people into spasms. Their swords fell from their hands as they tried to cover their ears. Heide spasmed worse of all, to the point she dropped her flute. She dove for it, expression as disheveled as the rest of her appearance.

The guards shook their heads as if trying to shake water from their ears and rounded on Heide. But the mustachioed Jurgen stepped in between, sword drawn.

“You’ll back off, if you know what’s good for you, pups.” He brandished the sword with an eloquence that betrayed his skill. This Jurgen was going to be trouble.

Heide stood, flute in hand and a serene smile back on her face, as she tried to stroke her hair back into place, “Thank you, Sir Jurgen. Would you be so kind as to slit their throats for me?” She gave his shoulder a slight pat with her shaking fingers.

“Happily, Madame,” said Jurgen.

Ulrich stepped forward with a stomp of a hoof. “So you’re not even goin’ to pretend to be under her spell then, Jurgen?”

Jurgen shrugged his shoulders, “No need to. Following Madame Heide is the smarter path that will lead to unparalleled power. But that’s not something a mere horse needs to worry about, now is it? Know your place, steed!”

Silence rang through the courtyard at that. Ulrich was still as he stared at Jurgen. At last, he spoke in a low and dangerous voice, “Any of y’all who like their face the way it is better get outta here, now.”

Even I felt tempted to leave. I quite liked my face. But I stayed put. I did not have the luxury to run away, duty bound as I was.

No one else moved either. Then, one by one, guards and citizens alike backed away toward the exits. When they were close enough, all ran through the doors and up the streets out of sight.

It was now just the four of us.

Although Heide tried to make it three as she began to back away, too, trying her best to look graceful, but another stomp by Ulrich, made her jump.

“Not you, little lady.”

A squeak escaped Heide’s smile which she covered up with her flute. Her song resumed, though it warbled and trembled like her fingers.

Her voice sounded in my head again. Stupid bloody horse! How do they even work?! My music won’t hold him and he can disrupt my sound? It’s not fair! Not fair! Notfairnotfairnotfairnotfairnotfair!

I could not help myself. I laughed aloud. “What happened to all that eloquence? You’re no better than a child throwing a temper tantrum.”

Heide blanched at that, hitting a sour note in her song that made a brick in the side of a building explode into a cloud of dust. She lowered her flute and stared at it in horror.

I was more focused on the destroyed wall. That could just as easily have been me! I gave a cough so as to make sure my voice was not about to crack, “A wrong note? What a pathetic excuse for a Blumentau bard.”

I felt bad for the true Heide, but this woman was the False Hero’s puppet. There was no sympathy from me for her failure. Plus, it felt nice to not be the one at the butt of every joke for once.

She nearly threw her flute to the ground at my mockery, “S-shut up!”

All of us, even Jurgen, looked at her in surprise, but none were as shocked as Heide herself, who clapped a hand to her mouth, face red.

Her fingers opened slightly, revealing her lips as she leaned into Jurgen and whispered, “I didn’t say that aloud, did I?”

Jurgen nodded, “You did, Madame. You did.”

Heide covered her face with both hands, her flute pressed between her right palm and cheek, “Oh, how unlady-like! Don’t look at me!”

I nearly rolled my eyes at that. You’ve said a lot worse in my head. I did not voice my thoughts aloud for fear of ruining the moment further.

Luckily, Jurgen chose that moment to turn furious eyes on me, “Now look what you’ve done! You’ve upset this poor maiden, now you’ll have to deal with me!”

“That I am more than happy to do.”

Jurgen began to walk forward, sword in one hand.

In response, I renewed my Plow guard, ready for the battle ahead.