Lesser Prince (Guardians of Gaeland Book 1) Page 3

Her father caught up with her near the road and quietly said “Leave it.”

  She knew better than to push her dad and stomped back to the horses to get Grey ready for the day's competition. She saw Ardt Fenhall pushed roughly out of one of the trailers just as the music was turned down. Ardt leered in her direction, giving her a wolfish smile and Amber shuddered at the unappreciated attention.

  Over the next few hours, the grounds filled with trailers from all over the state. There were even a few out-of-state license plates. This Fair was one of the largest in the region and the Elendahls knew most everyone who competed. By ten in the morning a crowd gathered in the stands surrounding the arena.

  The first competition of the day was poles and Amber’s favorite. She sat atop Grey, just outside the arena, very much in her element. She noticed with dissatisfaction that Ardt was riding his young black stallion and struggling to keep it under control. She sensed both fear and anger from the stallion and saw Ardt’s mood blacken as he approached.

  After a few horses, Ardt was up. Amber had a bad feeling. She’d never seen him ride this horse and was surprised he would bring a new horse to such a large event. Horses, by their nature, don’t like surprises and this stallion appeared to be near his breaking point.

  As Ardt left the start, she watched him drive his spurs deeply into the stallion’s side. Amber didn’t use spurs and couldn’t understand the need. The force with which he’d kicked was cruel and the stallion bolted for the end of the arena with Ardt barely in control. As the pair turned around, Ardt drove his spurs in again, catching a particularly sensitive spot. The stallion decided it wasn’t going to put up with the abuse and threw his front legs into the soft dirt in front of him, stiff-legged. At the same time he kicked his rear legs hard into the air, bucking forward. The enraged beast spun and raised his forelegs, rearing back with a hop. Ardt was thrown helplessly to the ground.

  “Open the gate!” Amber pushed her horse forward. As it swung open, Amber charged toward Ardt and the wild stallion. Moments seemed like hours, but Amber finally positioned herself between Ardt and the enraged beast. The boy took the opportunity and made a dash for the fence, clearing it with minimal effort.

  Amber paced Grey alongside the stallion and after a few minutes, it finally lost its fury. Amber reached over and grabbed the reigns. When she reached the gate Ardt met her, “Maybe you could run him back over to the trailer? He don’t look ready to be ridden right now.”

  Amber flinched at Ardt’s poor grammar, but agreed that the stallion would be more comfortable following Grey. Ardt jumped onto a four wheeler and roared off in the direction of his camp. Amber only had a few minutes before she would be called up to ride, so she followed the four-wheeler down the dusty road. When she arrived, there was no one around. It was just like Ardt to not take any responsibility. Amber dismounted, still holding the stallion’s reigns. His big black eyes peered suspiciously back at her. She knew the look; this stallion was young and didn’t trust people, it hadn’t been worked nearly enough. She pursed her lips as she thought about it. Of course it didn’t trust people; it was Ardt’s horse.

  “Just tie him up to the front there.” Ardt rounded the end of the trailer.

  “No water up here,” she responded.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get him set in a bit.”

  Amber turned to leave but Ardt grabbed her elbow, spinning her around to face him. “Hey, I didn’t get a chance to thank you.” Ardt released her arm and pulled off his cowboy hat, running a hand through his greasy black hair. The perpetual leer returned to his face and he studied Amber appreciatively.

  Amber backed up a step, looked around, and realized they were alone. She had never been very comfortable around Ardt and now, much less so. “Uh, it’s okay,” she stammered. “I'm up pretty soon. I’d better get going.”

  “Ah, don’t be like that.” Ardt tried to turn his leer into a more comforting smile. It didn’t work and he looked like a wolf eyeing its prey. He stepped closer and attempted to grab her arm again.

  Instinctively, Amber blocked him by sweeping her hand into his forearm, knocking his arm out of the way harmlessly. She had hit him a little harder than she’d intended. “Stop it,” she said firmly, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

  “Oh, you like to wrestle, do you?” Ardt’s voice had a sarcastic, playful sound to it.

  “No, Ardt. Knock it off.” Amber’s fear mixed with anger. She took a couple steps back toward Grey, but Ardt wasn’t in the mood to listen. He caught up with her and wrapped his long arms around her waist, forcing the breath out of her.

  “Just a little kiss and I’ll let you go.” His foul breath wafted across her nose.

  Amber lifted her knee and drove the heel of her boot down onto the top of his foot. It must have caused substantial pain as Ardt released her and cried out, “Aaaah! You freaking tease!” He was back to enraged.

  Amber turned to run, but felt a large hand club her across the side of the head. The pain dazed her and she stumbled toward Grey. She heard Ardt’s heavy feet stomping behind her and turned in time to see his outstretched arms grabbing for her. Then something odd happened. It was as if the world slowed to about a tenth of its normal speed. Ardt’s arms moved slowly through the air toward her. Without completely understanding why, Amber planted her right foot just inside his left foot and pushed her knee down to the ground, ducking under his slowly approaching arm.

  The world resumed its normal speed and Ardt flew forward, off balance, not having touched Amber, other than to trip over her foot. He rolled in the dust, and sputtered. Amber didn’t waste any time and jumped up onto Grey, who was patiently waiting. Ardt called after her, but she had no interest in what he had to say. When she arrived at the arena the loudspeaker announced, “Second call, Amber Elendahl, Poles.”

  The gates opened and Amber felt Grey’s excitement, throwing off the stress of her altercation with Ardt. The horse had always been a terrible show off and both of them knew this was their event. Grey launched from the starting point and Amber urged her through each of the poles, leaning and driving Grey on a perfect path. The run ended up being their best time of the season.

  Amber didn’t see Ardt in any more competitions that day and imagined he’d reached his limit of frustration. Later that evening after taking care of the horses, the Elendahl family was sitting outside around a fire pit eating a well-deserved dinner. They heard Jax Fenhall yelling at his son. While no one could really make out the conversation, several derogatory expletives were recognizable.

  The next morning, the Fenhall camp was deserted. Amber thought it odd that Jax didn’t talk to her father, to at least pass his thanks to Amber for saving his son. She almost pitied Ardt, having a father that treated him like that. Ardt was still a creep, but Amber had a better understanding of why that might be the case.

  The second day went much like the first, with Amber and Grey winning or placing in a number of events. When it came time to pack up, Samuel actually helped. Amber figured it was more related to his wanting to go home than a general sense of helpfulness. Nonetheless, she was glad he pitched in, even though he was a twerp.

  When they finally returned to the ranch, the sun had been down for a few hours and everyone was tired. They dropped Sam at the house. He’d fallen asleep about ten minutes into the return trip and was still groggy. While the trailer could be unloaded in the morning, the horses needed to be stabled.

  Backing the trailer into its home next to the barn, Amber sensed that something was wrong. The horses that had been left behind were agitated, kicking the stalls. Her dad felt it too and was out of the truck and in the barn before either she or her mom could say anything.

  The Invitation

  Amber scrambled to get out of the truck and follow her dad. She found him kneeling in the open aisle next to a horse named Twister, who was lying on the ground. In the dim light of the barn, Amber saw an immense gash in the side of the beautiful horse. Moreover, the horse was drenched in sweat a
nd panting loudly, obviously in great distress.

  Lester picked up the phone from a dusty worn desk. After a couple of moments he began, “Hi Amanda, Lester Elendahl. Sorry to call so late. We’ve had an accident. Twister has been injured, could you come out? It looks pretty bad.”

  Movement at the back of the barn caught Amber’s eye. She peered down the long aisle and strained to hear past her dad’s phone call, but couldn’t make out any unusual noises.

  The door had been left open, so it was possible she’d seen it shaking in the wind. The evenings were cool enough that she really should go close it so the barn would stay warm. The shifting shadows and Twister’s injuries raised the hackles on the back of her neck, so she grabbed a shovel, which was the only thing handy.

  At the end of the main aisle, the empty stalls were poorly lit, their emptiness a testament to her parents’ failing dream of a thriving ranch. It would have been a good business, but people weren't as interested in horses as they once had been. Each empty stall represented a substantial loss in income for the family.

  Moonlight spilled in through the back door. The mercury vapor light just outside of the barn was apparently not working. She paused to listen, scanning the area for anything out of place. Her eyes were slow to adjust to the darkness and she longed for a flashlight.

  Finally, Amber made it to the door. She wasn’t interested in investigating further and reached for the handle to pull it closed. A scraping sound caught her attention - something definitely moved out there. The noise startled her and she brought the shovel blade up, holding the handle in both hands. It was more likely to be a piece of tumbleweed than anything dangerous, but the overall feeling of unease stayed with her.

  Amber stepped through the door and was grateful for the moonlight illuminating the sandy arena. She didn’t have any idea where the scraping sound had come from, so she scanned the area looking down the fence line and along the barn. She didn’t miss the luminescent eyes staring back at her.

  A shrouded woman stood thirty feet from Amber, toward the far edge of the barn. The brilliant moon’s glow lit up white streaks in the woman’s dark, flowing hair as it rustled in the breeze. She was flanked by two enormous, menacing black dogs whose glowing eyes sent a chill down Amber’s spine. The woman’s face was impassive as she returned Amber’s stare.

  “Hey! What are you doing there?” Amber tried to sound confident.

  “Rest easy child, I am only visiting. I had hoped to speak with your brother.” The woman’s voice was low and silky smooth.

  “Sam?” Amber snapped off the end of his name, wishing she hadn’t said it out loud. “You need to leave. This is private property.”

  “Yes, I should go, but now we have a problem. You've seen too much.”

  Amber sucked in a quick gasp of air. The barn now seemed miles away.

  “Take her …” The old woman’s right hand swept toward Amber. The dogs lunged forward and charged. Their claws dug into the sandy soil throwing clods up behind them as they accelerated. Amber was frozen in place, unable to move. Nothing she could do would save her from the charging dogs. She tightened her grip on the handle of the shovel.

  A moment before the first dog reached her, Amber felt an odd sensation, much like she had when Ardt had attacked. The world seemed to slow down and everything came into sharp focus. The lead dog had left the ground and was slowly flying directly at her. The second dog’s front legs were jammed into the ground as he was shifting his weight to his rear haunches to lunge.

  Even as slow as things were moving, she still didn’t have much time to react. The dog’s large mouth was nearly on her. She slid her body to the side and stepped forward. The animal’s eyes locked onto her movement and attempted to change course. Fortunately, momentum propelled the dog past her shoulder.

  Focusing on the second dog, Amber watched its front legs push hard into the dirt. A plan formed in her mind. She swung the shovel, which felt like it weighed at least three times as much as normal, sweeping it in a wide arc around her body and spinning with it until she struck the great beast’s forelegs with the handle. Slowly the animal’s rear end started to lift off of the ground. Inertia from its forward leap met the low sweeping strike of the shovel’s handle and the dog tumbled in a grotesque somersault.

  Amber heard a loud noise behind her. She turned her head to identify the sound and saw her father standing at the corner of the barn, smoke leaving the end of his shotgun. The spent shell casing discharged from the side of the gun and fluttered harmlessly to the side. He’d fired into the air, but was slowly lowering the gun toward the dogs. Amber instinctively knew that he would try to line up a shot where she wasn't in the line of fire, so she let go of the still-reverberating shovel, and dove into the barn.

  Time returned to normal and the dogs, moving at full speed, had become entangled. A second blast and a yelp told Amber that her dad had found his mark. The animals gathered themselves and tore back to where the old woman had been standing. Amber poked her head back through the door and saw the dogs disappear behind the barn. The woman was nowhere to be found.

  “Amber, are you okay?” Lester Elendahl ran up to where she stood, inspecting her for injury.

  “I’m fine, Dad. Who was that?” Amber asked.

  “Wolves, they must have come through the back door and attacked Twister. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  “There was an old woman, the wolves were with her!”

  “Are you sure, Amber? I only saw you and the wolves. Let’s close this door.” Lester gently pushed Amber further inside.

  Once they made it back to the front of the barn, Lester said, “I’d better call the Sheriff. If this was intentional, he’d like to know about it. You’re sure you saw someone? Sometimes light is tricky at night.”

  Amber thought for a moment, but knew she wasn’t wrong. The whole thing had a dreamlike quality to it, but the clarity of the entire night was burned into her mind. “Yeah Dad, there was definitely a woman.”

  Lester Elendahl made the call, but stared at Amber as if wanting to ensure she wouldn’t wander off again.

  The sheriff and the veterinarian, Dr. Engwall, arrived at nearly the same time. Fortunately, the wounds to Twister, while deep, weren't so severe that she wouldn’t recover. The sheriff listened to Amber’s description of the woman and two large dogs, but when they went outside to inspect the area they found no sign of human footprints. Neither man made a big deal out of it, but she knew they thought she was imagining things.

  Lester and the sheriff made a wider sweep of the immediate area with flashlights and were unable to find anything useful. In the end, the sheriff asked Lester to come by the next day and fill out a report. He also said he would warn other ranchers about the possibility of a wolf attack. Other than that, there wasn’t much to be done.

  “Twister will recover and shouldn’t exercise too heavily. I’ll be by in a few days to check in on her.” Dr. Engwall was a thickset, but not unattractive woman and had an efficient manner about her. She gave a few more instructions to Lester before leaving.

  “I suppose we better tell your mom what’s going on. I doubt she missed the sheriff’s car. Is there anything you want to talk about before we go in?” Lester asked as he placed his hand on Amber’s arm.

  Amber shook her head and they walked quietly back to the house. They spent the better part of an hour recounting the night’s events to a wide-eyed Sam and Jessie. Amber wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t mention the old woman again.

  After a couple of weeks, life at the Elendahl Ranch settled back to its normal, comfortable pace. There had been no new attacks and Twister’s wounds were healing. Lester, Jessie and Samuel were sitting at the kitchen table in a rare moment of quiet as Amber entered with the mail. She glanced at Jessie and asked, "Mom, have you heard of 'The House of Parnassus'?"

  Jessie sat straight up, her forehead wrinkling. "Sounds familiar. Why, what's up?"

  "Someone sent me a letter." Amber held up a crisp w
hite envelope with hand calligraphy. "It's from a Gelasius Parnassus, The House of Parnassus."

  "I know of them," Lester said simply. Mother and daughter both turned to look at the soft spoken man, waiting to hear what else he might say.

  Amber finally prompted him impatiently, "And ..." She sat down on his knee and put her left arm around his neck, still holding the unopened envelope in her right hand.

  A grin spread across his face. He enjoyed the attention of his daughter and didn't mind giving her a little trouble here and there to gain it. "Heh, okay. Parnassus is the name of a family on the east coast. I don't recall exactly where - it is probably on that fancy envelope. But they're well known in the upper levels of horse competition. Jessie, I imagine you remember riding against one of the Parnassus girls. They were big in Nationals a couple of years before you competed."

  A light turned on for Jessie, "Ah, yes, that’s right. Lari was her name, if I recall correctly."

  Amber hopped off her dad's knee, grabbed a knife from the drawer and carefully opened the elegant letter. She read it aloud.

  "Dear Amber Elendahl. You and your family are cordially invited to attend the Parnassus Faire as a guest of The House of Parnassus for the express purpose of competing with your mare, Wild Grey, in our national qualifying competition. Please consider joining us as our guests on October 10th with the competition to begin the week of October 17th. We would be most honored by your acceptance of this invitation."

  Amber looked up from the letter to the stunned looks on her family's faces. "It's signed by Princess Gelasius Parnassus. Oh Dad, this is a national qualifier. Please, can we go?" Amber looked pleadingly from Lester to Jessie.

  Lester in his normal understated way, said, "That's something now, isn't it?"

  Hunting Party

  Iowa

  Tig smiled at Naminee’s retreating form. She was right, the goats and chickens certainly wouldn't load themselves - but into what? The growl of a heavy motor came from the back of the property.