The Adventures of Trik the Elf

The Pearl Plains, a vast expanse of grass and sky, stretched across Rule from the Great River in the east to the Tuna Sea in the west and from the Forest of Brethil in the south to the Forest of Endora in the north. Trik was traversing the southern portion of the plains, an emerald swath of low grassland interrupted here and there by gray sandstone bluffs. Riding beside him on a brown quarter horse was Emilia, a fair farm maiden with hair the color of autumn wheat. Although the sun was at high noon, the breeze was cool for a late summer’s day.

Emila turned to Trik and smiled with her turquoise eyes. “Where do you come from?” she asked.

Trik wore a wide brim hat, which kept the sun off his face and concealed his elven ears. His long dark hair billowed over his shoulders as he rode. “Anoka,” he said, making no expression.

She studied his face. “You don’t look like someone from Anoka,” said Emilia.

Trik tapped his heels against the flanks of his horse and rode ahead of Emilia.

Emilia struggled to catch up with him on her quarter horse. “Are you afraid I can’t keep a secret?” she asked, as she rode up beside him. “You know my father says I’m the most honorable of all his children. That is why he asks me to escort you from Anoka.”

“I don’t doubt that,” said Trik, “but I’m in no mood for talk.”

“You do have secrets,” she said, her eyes widening at him. “I knew it when I saw you in the market.”

His eyes narrowed on the grassy plains stretching before them for endless miles. Here and there were grass-covered bluffs, and sometimes sandstone pinnacles would rise above them. But there was not a tree in sight, or a river, or any wildlife except for birds. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “What do you want to know so badly?” he asked.

She rode forward to close the distance between them. “Tell me where you’re from,” she said. “Why do you dress like that? Are you a sailor?”

Trik shook his head. “No,” he said.

“When we were in Anoka you talked about ships,” she said. “I thought you might be with the sailors who go west to the Tuna Sea.”

“That was Anoka,” said Trik. “Long ago, before you were born, I would travel from Anoka to the coast.”

Emilia raised an eyebrow at him. “How old are you?” she asked.

“Very old,” said Trik, and he tapped the flanks of his horse and rode ahead of her again.

“Hey, wait up,” said, Emilia, attempting to keep up with him.

Trik slowed down as they approached one of the high bluffs. Halfway up, the grass ceased to grow, and was replaced by naked gray sandstone. He turned to Emilia. “You were to take me to your father,” he said, “not to ask me questions.”

“I’m sorry,” said Emilia, softly. “I only wanted to know a little. I hardly ever get to speak with anyone from the city.”

“Are we near your father’s ranch?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. She pointed at the sweeping bluff before them. At the top of the bluff was a large balanced rock. “That stone is called the Wild Stallion. We turn south here, and then there is only an hour to go.”

*

Trik and Emilia approached a fence, which was made from long oak branches woven between thick hickory posts. The fence stretched for miles, encircling a vast pasture where many horses grazed. A barn and several smaller structures stood at the far end of the fence. Just beyond the barn was a stone manor.

“Ranch Darnell,” said Emilia. “My father owns a hundred acres and fifty horses.”

“A fair estate,” said Trik.

As they approached the manor two little girls, holding wooden buckets, raced past them. “My sisters Rachel and Anna,” said Emilia.

Trik and Emilia halted in the yard of the manor. Trik set his right foot in the stirrup and hopped down from his horse. A girl of twelve was waiting for him with her hands behind her back.

“I’ll take your horse,” she said, blushing.

Trik handed the reins to the young girl. The young girl blushed again and then she turned toward the barn.

Emilia joined Trik, leading her small quarter horse by the reins. “Belle,” said Emilia to Trik. “She’s father’s favorite.”

“I heard that,” said Belle, over her shoulder, as she walked toward the barn.

Trik turned to Emilia. “Does you father have any sons?” he asked.

Emilia giggled. “Father is lucky,” she said. “Luna blessed him with seven daughters.”

“Seven daughters,” said Trik, his eyes widening. “Who cares for the horses?”

“We all help,” said Emilia. “The oldest Malia oversees everything, ever since father hurt his knee in the barn.”

“Where is your father?” he asked.

Emilia’s face brightened. “You will like Papa,” she said. “He’s the finest horseman in the West.” She rolled her eyes. “At least, he was before his injury.”

“Will you take me to him?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” said Emilia, smiling.

Belle had returned for Emilia’s quarter horse. Belle glanced snottily at her sister before taking the reins from her. “Father’s waiting for you in his study,” she said.

“Let’s go,” said Emilia to Trik. “Papa will be happy to meet you. He’s always so good with new people.” She turned to the manor and started walking, and Trik followed her.

Emilia led Trik inside the manor, down a long hall, past a kitchen and a dining room, a nice parlor room, to a small room in the back with a desk and several bookshelves. Sitting in the chair at the desk was a man not much older than forty with a gray mustache and some stubble on his chin. He was writing something on a parchment with a quill pen.

“I brought him like you said, Papa,” said Emilia.

Mr. Edwen looked up at them. “Thank you, Emilia, my dear,” said Mr. Edwen, smiling at her.

Emilia looked at Trik for a moment. Then she took a step back from her father’s desk and turned away. As she departed, Trik stepped forward.

“Trik,” said Mr. Edwen. “I’m pleased to finally meet you in person. Please, take your hat off, and make yourself comfortable.” He pointed at the chair in front of the desk.

“If I am permitted anything in your house,” said Trik, “I request to keep my hat.”

“You have my leave,” said Mr. Edwen.

Trik took a seat in front of the desk and faced Mr. Edwen. “You have a kind daughter,” he said.

“She is my joy,” said Mr. Edwen, “and my burden. She has a fire in her heart like her mother.” Mr. Edwen turned to his right, and glanced at a painting of a horse with a bareback rider, a woman older than Emilia but with the same golden hair and turquoise eyes.

Trik glanced at the painting. He noted the bareback rider, a beautiful woman wearing a riding skirt and mounted on a powerful white stallion.

“You come well recommended,” said Mr. Edwen.

“Only to kind of you to say,” said Trik.

“Surely, you know of the legend of the one-horned white mare of the Pearl Plains,” said Mr. Edwen, turning to Trik.

“I have heard tales of such a creature,” said Trik. “They say she is unmatched for speed, impossible to catch.”

“Indeed, she is,” said Mr. Edwen. “But I believe with your background, and with my equipment, we will catch her.”

“A unicorn,” said Trik, leaning back in the chair and folding his hands in his lap.

“There are legends,” said Mr. Edwen. “Then there are things I have seen with my own eyes. I have seen a white mare on a night when the moon was full. You may call it a unicorn, if you like.”

Trik nodded. “I’ll take your bounty,” he said.

Mr. Edwen smiled beneath his mustache. “Excellent,” he said. “I’ll see to it you have everything you need. I only ask that if you capture the beast that it shall belong to me and my family.”

“When I capture it,” said Trik, “it will be yours to do with as you wish.”

Mr. Edwen reached into his pocket and took from it three silver coins. He dropped them on the desk in front of Trik. “This is your first payment,” he said. “You will get the rest when you have completed the bounty.”

Trik swept the three silver coins from the desk and closed his hand around them.

*

Trik stepped into the barn, a two-story timber building with a high roof supported by rafters. On the ground floor were horse stalls, small enclosures separated by wooden partitions. On the second story was a loft above the horse stalls. Above that, light peered down through the cracks between the timbers of the roof.

Behind Trik, the barn door opened, and Emilia stepped into the barn with a large wooden bucket with a curved handle. She carried it from the barn door to one of the troughs in front of a horse stall. She dumped water from the bucket into the trough. Inside the stall, a beautiful black stallion with a finely combed and trimmed mane approached the trough. As the horse lowered its head to drink, Emilia ran her fingers through its dark mane.

Trik approached his brown stock horse, which was munching on a pile of hay in the corner of its stall. His saddle and reins were lying on a table next to the stall.

Emilia walked up to Trik. “It’s a pretty horse,” she said.

“He’s been on many adventures,” said Trik. He leaned against the stall, and crossed his arms on the top of its wooden gate. “When I’m done with this bounty, I’ll set him free.”

Emilia walked up to the gate. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll get hurt,” she said.

Trik shook his head. “Not this horse,” he said.

Emilia looked at him from the side. “Are you going after the unicorn?” she asked.

Trik backed away from the gate. “Who told you that?” he asked, turning away from the stall.

“My older sister told me,” said Emilia. “She said father wants it for the fair this fall.”

Trik faced her. “Yes,” he said.

“No one has ever caught it,” she said. “It can only be found at night, and only by the light of a full moon.”

“Where did you hear that?” he asked.

She smiled. “Village rumors,” she said. “But I never thought they were true.”

Trik picked up his saddle and placed it on top of the stall gate. He faced her. “Your father seems to believe it,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “When are you going out?” she asked.

“Soon,” he said, “when it is dark.”

She giggled. “How will you ride in the dark?” she asked. “You won’t see a thing.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said.

“If you’re going out tonight,” she said, “will you take me with you?”

He shook his head. “No,” he said.

“I know these plains better than anyone,” she said.

“I know them well enough,” he said. He unlatched the stall gate and stepped into the stall with the horse. The horse raised its head from the hay. Trik petted its forehead. The horse rubbed its muzzle against Trik’s shoulder.

“I can help,” said Emilia, from the other side of the gate. “I know where to look. Let me help you.”

Trik glanced at her over his shoulder. “You might get hurt,” he said.

“I can ride as well as anyone,” she said. “Almost as well as Papa.”

“Yeah,” he said, running his hand along the flank of the horse. He looked over his shoulder at her. His eyes were barely visible beneath the brim of his hat. “We’ll see.”

*

The moon was nearly full, and but for a few wisps of cloud, all the stars would’ve been out. It was a cool night, and there was a gentle breeze whispering across the grass. Trik rode his horse to the top of a hill, and Emilia joined him there on a beautiful palomino. She wore a white riding skirt and black leather boots.

Trik pulled on the reins of his horse, and came to a halt on the hilltop. Emilia rode up beside him. “So this is the spot?” he asked. He pointed at the grassy valley below. There was a little stream that snaked through the valley.

“Not here,” she said, “but we’re close to the spot.”

“How much further?” he asked.

“Just a little,” she said.

He tapped the flanks of his horse with the heel of his boots and rode down the hill into the valley below. He halted at the little stream that cut through the valley. It gurgled quietly in the dark. He hopped down from the horse, and led it to the stream. The bank was low enough for the horse to drink from the rushing water.

“You never told me,” said Emilia, smiling as she rode up to Trik. She pulled on the reins of her horse and halted. “Where do you come from?”

Trik took some dried apples pieces from the saddlebag of his horse. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said. He ate a piece of dried apple as he stood staring at the plains beyond the stream.

She glanced at his wide-brimmed leather hat. “Why do you wear that hat?” she asked. “The sun is down.”

Trik glanced at her. “I like it,” he said.

“I would find it terribly uncomfortable,” she said.

“I find it very comfortable,” he said. As he said this, he saw out of the corner of his left eye a flash of white. He faced the plains beyond the stream. A white object streaked across the plains beyond the river. Trik led the horse away from the bank.

“What did you see?” she asked.

“A white mare,” he said, mounting his horse. He reached for the lasso on his saddle.

She glanced at the plains beyond the stream and squinted. “I can’t see anything,” she said. “It’s too dark.”

Trik’s horse stepped down into the stream. The surface of the water rushed against its knees as it crossed.

“Trik,” shouted Emilia. Her horse was swinging its head back and forth and pulling against the reins. “She won’t cross here.”

After Trik was across, he hopped down from his horse. He stepped into the stream, and the dark water lapped against his boots. He took a cloth from his pocket and placed it over the eyes of the palomino. Then he took its bridle and walked it down the gentle bank and into the stream. It was not long before the palomino was on the other bank of the stream.

Emilia looked down at Trik and smiled. “Thanks,” she said, blushing.

Trik removed the cloth from the palomino’s eyes and returned it to his pocket. “Let’s go,” he said.He stepped up to his horse and mounted it. He slapped the reins of the horse, and started it galloping across the field. Emilia galloped behind him on the palomino.

They arrived at the spot where Trik had seen the white mare. “This is it,” he said, pulling on the reins of his horse. “It crossed here like a bolt of lightning.” He looked about. In the moonlight, the grass waved gently in the breeze, and here and there a firefly ignited.

“I’m sorry,” said Emilia. “I think we missed it.”

Trik looked out at the eastern horizon, where the light of morning would soon break over the plains. “Tomorrow there will be a full moon,” he said.

“Where will you stay tonight?” asked Emilia.

“Your father’s barn,” said Trik.

“With the horses,” she said, her eyebrows rising.

Trik faced her. “Yes,” he said.

“You should have a room,” she said. “I will talk with my father in the morning.”

“There is no need,” said Trik. He turned his horse about, pointing it in the direction of the ranch. He tapped the flanks of the horse and began riding with the wind blowing at his back. Emilia trotted after him on the palomino.

*

Trik lay awake on a hay stack in the loft above the horse stables. He rolled over and peered outside through a crack in the planks of the barn wall. It was late in the morning, and the sun was rising fast. The daughters of Mr. Edwen were doing various chores around the ranch. Trik had slept in his riding gear, but his hat was off. As he turned away from the barn wall, Emilia’s golden head rose above the loft floor.

“Hey,” she said, standing on the ladder to the loft. She was carrying a platter with a plate of dried apples, peaches, pears, and seeds and nuts and a cup of fresh milk. When Trik faced her, her eyes were round and her mouth was wide open. “Your ears,” she said.

Trik’s pointed elf ears were exposed under the tendrils of his dark hair. He reached for his wide-brimmed hat from the floor and placed it on his head.

“You’re an elf,” she said, staring at him. She placed the plate of fruit and milk on the floor of the loft.

He did not look at her. “You surprised me,” he said.

“Oh,” she said, “I’m sorry. I just thought—I thought you might be hungry. I brought some stuff from the kitchen.”

He nodded, but he did not look at her.

“Okay,” she said, turning away. “I’ll go.” She took a step down on the ladder, but then she halted and looked back at him. “It’s okay, you know.”

Trik faced her, his blue-green eyes glowing softly beneath the rim of his wide-brimmed hat.

“I don’t care,” she said, “that you’re different, I mean.” She smiled warmly at him, and then she continued down the ladder.

Trik breathed a deep sigh. He glanced at the platter of fruit and milk she had left on the floor of the loft. He leaned to his side, grabbing the edge of the silver platter and sliding it closer to him.

*

Trik was packing the saddlebags of his horse in the barn when Emilia walked up to the adjacent stall. She was wearing a pretty blue summer dress, and her golden hair was tied in a blue bow. Inside that stall was a large white stallion with a long flowing mane and large brown eyes. Emilia began brushing the stallion’s mane with a large bristled brush.

Trik glanced at her as he filled his stallion’s saddlebags with rations. When he was done packing the saddlebags, he led the horse to the gate. He raised the stall latch and pushed open the gate. He led the horse out of the barn. Outside, the sun was low, and the whole of the sky in the west was red. There was a breeze in the air.

“Are you leaving already?” asked Emilia, walking out of the barn behind him.

“Yes,” said Trik.

“Will you let me come?” she asked.

He halted and looked at her over his shoulder. She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest. She was already wearing riding boots. “If you come,” he said, “you must keep up.”

“I will,” she said. “I’ll show you this time.”

Trik turned to his stallion. He stepped into the stirrup with his left foot, and then he swung his right leg over the horse as he mounted it. He looked down at her from his horse. “I won’t be waiting at any rivers tonight,” he said.

She blushed. “That was an accident,” she said. “Tonight, I’ll ride Birdie. She isn’t afraid of anything, except maybe snakes.”

“Tonight we’ll catch a unicorn,” he said. He tapped the flanks of his horse and rode away.

*

It was dusk when Emilia joined Trik at the plains east of the ranch. She was on Birdie, a beautiful mare with short golden hair and a single white stripe stretching from its muzzle to its forehead. Its mane and tail were white, but its nostrils were dark gray.

“Pretty horse,” said Trik.

“She is pretty,” said Emilia, “and she is the fastest horse my father owns.”

“The fastest yet,” he said with a wink. He looked at the full moon that hovered near the dark horizon in the west. “Come,” he said, squeezing his stallion gently with his legs.

They rode for some time before they reached the valley with the snaking stream. Trik rode slowly, looking over his shoulder at Emilia, who carefully trotted the golden-haired mare down the bank and into the stream.

After they crossed the stream, Trik led them to an oak tree at the edge of the plain. They both halted there.

“How do you plan to catch the unicorn?” asked Emilia. She and her horse were half-hidden in shadows beneath the branches of the oak tree.

Trik unwrapped the lasso from his saddlebag. The rope ended in a loop, with an adjustable honda knot. He widened the loop at the end of it by adjusting the location of the knot.

“With that,” she said, her eyes twinkling in the dark.

“Yes,” said Trik.

“The unicorn is much too fast,” she said.

Trik looked at her in the dark. “I’ll need your help,” he said.

“Mine,” she said, touching her blouse.

“Yes,” he said. He hung the lasso over his shoulder before dismounting. He walked up to her. “Step down,” he said, holding out his hand.

She took his hand, and with his help she stepped down to the ground. He led her away from the tree. “Where are we going?” she asked.

Trik halted and pointed at the hill before them. “There,” he said.

She squinted. There was a flash of white light upon the hill. The unicorn halted at the top of the hill beneath the full moon. Its long white mane waved in the night breeze. Upon it head was a spiral horn that glowed in the darkness. “The unicorn,” she whispered.

“She is drawn to you,” he said. “There isn’t much time. You must go to her.”

Emilia shook her head. “I’m afraid,” she said.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “She won’t hurt you.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“You are young,” he said. “She cannot harm the innocent.”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Go now,” he said firmly.

Emilia walked away from the oak tree. She had not gotten far when she looked over her shoulder at Trik. He nodded at her. She started again.

As Emilia got close to the unicorn, it spotted her. The beast stood as still as a sculpture and gazed down at her with its sapphire blue eyes.

“Hurry,” whispered Trik from the oak tree, but Emilia did not hear him.

Emilia climbed to the top of the hill. As she approached the unicorn, it reared up on its hind legs, throwing its horned head back. Emilia halted before it and knelt in the grass with her head down.

The unicorn approached her, stepping softly on a bed of violets. It halted in front of her, dropping its head to study her.

Emilia raised her chin and looked up at the unicorn. There were tears on her cheeks. The unicorn’s sapphire eyes pierced hers. She reached out with her right hand and brushed her fingers softly through the unicorn’s white mane.

The unicorn brushed its muzzle softly against Emilia’s shoulder.

Suddenly, Trik’s lasso dropped over the unicorn’s head. The unicorn gave a shrill cry and turned away.

“Stop,” shouted Emilia, but as she said this Trik was already pulling the unicorn toward him with the lasso.

The unicorn reared up, and the rope went taut around its neck. Its muscles tensed, and its nostrils squared.

“Stop it,” shouted Emilia, glaring at Trik.

Trik continued to reel the unicorn in. “You’re hurting her,” she shouted.

He did not look at Emilia as he pulled the beast toward him.

Emilia ran up to him. “Stop it,” she shouted. “You’re hurting her.”

“Keep back,” he shouted.

Emilia ran to Trik’s horse and grabbed Trik’s sword from its saddle. She ran up to the unicorn with the sword in her hand. She swung the blade, cutting the rope and releasing the unicorn. The unicorn galloped away as fast as lightning.

Trik glared at her. “What have you done?” he asked.

Emilia was in tears. “You won’t hurt her,” she said. “I won’t let you.”

His expression softened. “You’re under her spell,” he said.

“I am not under any spell,” she shouted, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Emilia,” he said. “I shouldn’t have brought you.”

“Take me home,” she said. “I won’t help you any longer.”

He turned to the west. They were but an hour’s ride from the ranch. He sighed.

*

In the morning, Trik stepped into the office of Mr. Edwen. The old mustached man was behind his desk, counting coins in a register. He did not look up at Trik.

Trik placed Mr. Edwen’s three silver coins on the desk.

Mr. Edwen stopped counting and looked up at Trik. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked.

“I’m returning your payment,” said Trik.

“But you have not completed the bounty,” said Mr. Edwen. “You have not caught the unicorn.”

“Nor shall I,” said Trik.

Mr. Edwen crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I will find another hunter,” said Mr. Edwen.

“If you must,” said Trik, and he turned around.

As Trik walked out of the manor, Emilia walked across the field to him. Trik’s horse was saddled and waiting for him by the barn. Trik grabbed the horn of the saddle as he prepared to mount the horse.

Emilia walked up to him with a bucket of water. She glared at him, but she did not speak. She let his horse drink from the bucket.

He mounted his stallion. “Thank you,” he said.

She looked up at him. “What did you say to my father?” she asked.

Trik looked down at her. Her pretty hair was in tangles. There was dirt on her face. “I told him that I won’t capture the unicorn,” he said.

Her eyes widened, and the glow of innocence returned to them. “You’re going to leave,” she said.

“Yes,” he said.

Her expression became pensive. “Will someone else come?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “But you shouldn’t worry. They won’t succeed.”

She looked down and smiled. Then she faced him again. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“There is nothing for you to be sorry about,” he said. “I am the guilty party. I used you to lure the unicorn.” He turned toward the gate.

“Trik,” she said.

He turned back to her.

Her eyes widened. “You won’t forget me,” she said.

His eyes narrowed on hers, and he half-smiled. “Never,” he said.

She blushed, and smiled with her eyes. He turned toward the gate and lightly tapped the heels of his boots against the flanks of his horse. The stallion trotted toward the gate and the plains beyond the ranch.