Angry

"I told you, I'm fine," Reyan grumbled from the back of Utku. He balanced awkwardly on the back of the equine rear as the unicorn carried him and Aurora through the otherwise peaceful forest.

The old fairy had his arms crossed angrily as he faced backward on the steed. There were far more comfortable ways to ride--most of which had been offered to Reyan during the past hour--but the curmudgeon had elected to make himself miserable and grumble the whole way.

Aurora was not foolish enough to point out that he was doing the exact thing that he had accused everyone else of doing by complaining incessantly.

"I know you are fine, Reyan. It's just after traveling so long through portal after portal, we all could use a break. We are not far from our destination and I do think we are doing the doctor a favor by letting him have an uninterrupted view of the countryside. In other words, we appreciate your sacrifice on our behalf."

The Empress did not have to look over her shoulder to know her words had an effect. She smiled when she heard the fairy's response. "Well when you put it that way, I am quite the long suffering hero, aren't I? I feel quite sorry for all of you being unable to keep up with my magnificence."

"How magnanimous of you!" Brinn said to Reyan before cutting her eyes at the doctor. "See? I do know how to use that word properly," she stuck out her tongue slightly, very glad her mother was not there to see. It was only Alvar's questioning gaze that made her feel the a tad guilty for taunting both of the older males.

"We are getting close." Nurlan suddenly felt on guard.

There was a subtle change in the scenery around them. It was less wild and more tended. The smell on the breeze had altered too. It was not earthy like it was near the gnomes nor clean and void of scent like near the elven lands. It was not sweet like close to the fairies nor did it have an otherworldly spark like the electrified air under the Mystic Spires.

If Nurlan had to name it, it was the smell was of broken ground and sweat. It had been many years since the General had left the family farm, but he knew the smell of hard work when it hit him. It made him think of home.

It didn't take long before the trees became evenly spaced into rows. Each row contained apples of different colors, sizes and flavors. Beyond that were fields of carrots, vines of grapes and strawberries, and patches of pumpkins. Even though the group had eaten not long before, their mouths couldn't help but water at the deliciously tempting fruit.

"Is it magical?" the doctor asked as they rode through the bountiful harvest. "I feel I cannot resist plucking the apples from the tree."

"No more magical than usual. You've been eating fruit that came from the centaurs since you arrived at the elven palace. It just wasn't this fresh. The centaurs have a way of coaxing things out of the ground and making them taste heavenly. Nothing else compares to their produce." Brinn had grown up on the tender vegetables. They were almost divine.

The doctor's eyes widened as he spotted the first centaur, a small child who was skipping along through the trees of ripe green apples. Phileas never saw the captives of the Gnome King when the Castle Valiant was under Baak's control. As such this was his first encounter with the race of half human and half horse creatures.

This child waved, with his chubby fingers, then trotted up to move alongside the unicorns. He did not speak in human speak, but had a conversation with Utku in the ancient tongue.

The little boy snickered at something Utku said. "What is happening?" the Empress asked Brinn.

"The little boy asked why Utku is carrying a rider. He has never seen a human or an elf. Utku responded that not everyone can be born with arms and a torso, so he decided to borrow someone else's." Brinn cocked her head to one side as she translated. "It is better the way Utku said it, but you get the idea."

"Indeed. I will be happy to lend you my arms Utku, even if you were only joking," Aurora leaned forward and rubbed the unicorn's neck, and received a contented snort in reply. "I can understand not seeing humans, but the child has not seen an elf either?" The question was directed at either Brinn or Alvar.

The elven prince took up the mantle to answer. "Elves only come here to trade or to occasionally to help deal with intruders, though that is rare. King Ithel and I have been here only a handful of times. They have surely seen the fairies change the seasons, but they are tiny, not like Reyan is now. I'm sure we look very strange."

Brinn nodded and brushed her red hair behind her shoulder. "You see, the centaurs are a tight knit group and like to keep to themselves. They don't stray very far from home and they don't intermingle very much."

Seeing the concern deepen on both Aurora's and Nulran's faces, Alvar followed up on his wife's words quickly. "That is not to say they are unfriendly. They just aren't very social."

Despite Alvar's attempt, the words did not comfort Aurora. And as they got closer to the settlement, her worry grew. Three adult centaurs were by the streams gathering water. They looked up, and watched the cohort pass with unreadable expressions. They were neither forbidding nor welcoming.

Aurora realized that either expression would have put her more at ease. In fact, any expression at all--curiosity, fear, delight, or disgust--would have made her more comfortable than the lack of recognition in the centaurs' eyes. They were almost looking through her.

"Have you been here before, Reyan?" The Empress turned in her seat to the grumpy fairy.

The old male nodded. "I have. The critters here are a mysterious sort, and I do not pretend to understand them." A small gang of children began to follow them into the village.

The curmudgeon unfurled his wings suddenly to cause them to back off. Instead, one of the braver boys ran up to try and touch the fairy's wings. Reyan took to the sky, spitting something in the ancient tongue that sounded like a stern warning. He hovered next to Aurora, a sour expression on his wrinkled face.

"Kid these days!" he grumbled. It would be no use trying to tell the fairy that the little ones were just curious. Everyone was better off leaving the old grump alone.

The village took form around them, looking like many earthen bumps on the ground. Upon closer inspection, the bumps were really mounds of hardened earth filled with luxurious carpets of hay.

As the centaurs only ate raw food, each dwelling had no kitchen. The homes were only big enough for a family to rest, protected from the morning dew. Between the homes, the horsefolk were getting ready for the coming evening.

The more centaurs creatures they passed, the quieter the cohort became. Only the centaur children seemed unbothered by the humans, fairy, and elves. The adults looked on as the first trio of watchers had, with emotionless expressions.

Aurora recalled that they had not waited for a response from the centaurs before heading on their journey. What if the message ball had not made it? Or worse, what if the equine creatures had rejected their request? Bukuri couldn't know exactly how the Centaur King would respond.

The cohort was a peaceful party, but if their request had been denied, then they could be considered trespassing. What would the consequence of such an action be?

At last a female centaur dressed in a deep crimson blouse approached Zan, who was in the front of the group. "My Lord," she said in the ancient tongue, her airy voice containing the slightest bit of whinny in it. Her torso bowed gracefully as her front legs bent.

"No, Ma'am. I am not a lord," Zan responded.

The lady continued her greeting to the others in human-speak. "Welcome, guests. Please dismount and follow me."

After exchanging glances, the group complied. Even before the two-footers left, the horsefolk were tending to their unicorn brethren with food and water.

"Where are you taking us?" The Empress inquired politely.

"To the King," the four-footed lady responded as if the answer was obvious.

They came to the highest part of the village where a platform of wood had seemed to have grown out of the ground it was topped by a twisted tangle of roots that spread into a glorious fan of leaves resembling a peacock's feathers. Sitting atop this living throne was an exceptionally large centaur with his equine legs folded beneath him.

The two legged visitors paid their respects by either a bow or courteous dip of the head.

The king looked at them as all the other full grown centaurs before him—with indifference.

"Are you the human responsible for releasing the centaur Faris from the gnome king?" he boomed to Zan in human-speak. The Guardian shook his head.

Aurora stepped forward, "My son, son-in-law and my personal guard were involved in the rescue of the centaur Faris. I will take full responsibility for their choices."

"That is a problem," the king crossed his arms. "For that means I am very angry with you."