Fair Semblances: An Allegorical Fantasy (Chapter 4)

When Mishael awoke, daylight was already streaming in from the little window above the nightstand. He had no idea what time it was, he only knew that he had been sleeping for a very long time. He was still a little groggy, and insufferably thirsty. He slowly stretched and rubbed his eyes, then got up and walked over to the corner of the room, where the rider had left some bottles of water, and proceeded to take a long swig. After that, he sat down on the side of the bed again, and began munching half-heartedly on some morsel of bread that Tobiah had left. It was obvious that he was deep in thought.

After spending some moments like this, he suddenly arose again, this time much more energetically, and began pacing rapidly back and forth, three strides each way, which was all the little room could accommodate. As he was walking, he began muttering under his breath a whole string of disconnected and incoherent thoughts, all having to do with Fair Semblances, his comfortable bed, why he had ever left, what his family must be thinking right now, and what that mysterious traveler had meant in saying that he could never return. The longer he went on like this, the more agitated he became, until he was almost in a perfect frenzy.

Just as Mishael was starting to become truly heated, he was arrested by the sound of footsteps in the larger room which adjoined the room where he was pacing; and very shortly thereafter, the now-familiar face of Tobiah appeared in the doorway, with an expression of severe displeasure.

“It was imperative that you remain silent,” he said brusquely, “and now the whole inn can hear you quite clearly, and any half-wit might find you with ease. And what’s more, they are already coming, they most probably have spies in the inn, and they might even be here already.”

Mishael had at first returned Tobiah’s indicting glance angrily and confidently, and was determined for once to stand up courageously for himself; but after hearing this brief harangue, and strongly suspecting that when Tobiah said “they,” he was referring to the sanguinors of whom he had spoken so fearfully the day before, he visibly paled, and instead of casting back a sharp reply, he made at once as if he would pass through the doorway, and flee from the inn straightaway.

“No, it’s too late for that,” Tobiah barked out, grabbing him by the shoulder; “They may already be here, and we will certainly encounter them if we leave by the door. Here!” he cried out again, sweeping the tallow candle from the top of the nightstand and flinging open the window, “give me your bag!” Then, after tossing it unceremoniously out the window, the rider commanded Mishael to climb up onto the nightstand. When the young man had perched in front of the window, Tobiah, grabbing his wrist and all but thrusting him out, lowered him down from the window as far his his arm could reach; he still dangled some six or eight feet away from the ground.

“Bend your knees slightly and roll when you hit,” Tobiah whispered fiercely. And then he let go.

Mishael landed square on the balls of his feet, rolled head over heels for one revolution, and then jumped back up to his feet obviously unharmed. The rider, giving a shrill whistle, flung himself out the window so quickly that he was almost on the ground before Mishael had even regained his feet. He sprang up at once, likewise unhurt, and grabbed Mishael’s knapsack just as his wildesteed, having heard the whistle, came charging around the corner of the building. The rider leapt up into the saddle, and pulling Mishael up behind him as he had the day before, he spurred on his mount, who bolted ahead at an astonishing speed, of which Mishael had no idea the beast was capable after the previous day’s ride.

* * * * * * * *

Tobiah, Mishael, and the fleet-footed wildesteed went careening through the narrow, twisting alleys at a breathtaking pace. Mishael was so overwhelmed by all the twists and turns, and the projections and obstructions forever looming up suddenly before them, which the wildesteed had constantly to decide, on an instant’s notice, whether to go over or around, that he wondered how anyone could possibly be following a definite direction in so chaotic a fashion. But the rider seemed fully aware of where he was at all times, so Mishael decided just to hope for the best, and devote all his energy to trying not to fall off. And then, too, the thought struck him, and it was strangely consolatory, that if they were trying to escape unseen, the most perplexing and difficult route must really be the best way after all.

He had not long to deliberate on this philosophical insight; for very shortly thereafter, Tobiah was pulling up the wildesteed, and leaping to the ground. They had stopped none too soon, for the wall which surrounded the little town was directly before them. Tobiah led the wildesteed down into a little gully, which seemed to be for drainage, and motioned for Mishael to dismount.

Mishael and Tobiah, leading the wildesteed, made their way down the sharply plunging gully, until it suddenly ended in a short, wrought-iron gate, standing directly under the city wall, in about six inches of water; there, the drainage ditch passed through underneath. Tobiah produced a key from his pocket, and opened an impressive padlock with it. Then, straining with all his weight against the awkward gate, he slowly forced it open. The two men passed immediately through, stooping down only a little. The wildesteed, pulling back for a moment, rolled its eyes and snorted, obviously unsure of the narrow opening. But finally, with a little prodding, he lowered his magnificent head, with its great, twisted horns, and stepped delicately through the small aperture. The two men then mounted once again, and rode away with redoubled momentum.

The drainage ditch passing beneath the great wall ended almost immediately afterward at Waverly Lake itself. Stretching out before the riders, for a considerable distance, was the high, wooden wall on their right and the lapping waters of the lake on their left. They went thundering ahead, sometimes splashing into the clear waters of the lake, when it approached too close to the wall. At at least one point, where a rocky outcropping forced them further away from the town, the wildesteed was forced to swim a short distance, which proved to be a feat quite within its capabilities. Eventually, Tobiah and Mishael made it to the point where the wall curved away to the south in a great arc, and left the shores of Waverly Lake. From there, they veered a little less sharply from the lake, and proceeded in a southeasterly direction, more or less splitting the difference between the trajectories of the shore and the wall.

The two fugitives made it just beyond the city’s southernmost boundary, and were just beginning to breathe a sigh of relief: there, just a few strides away, was the forest, which would soon swallow them up, and obscure them from any of the city’s prying eyes. But their relief proved to be a little precipitate: immediately before they disappeared into the forest’s sheltering depths, a small band of horsemen came thundering out of the city, through the wide-open gates, in hot pursuit of the wildesteed.

“It is they,” Tobiah muttered grimly; “They have seen us”.

Under normal circumstances, the wildesteed would have easily outrun the swiftest of horses; but it had just undergone a tremendous labor, carrying two men at such reckless speeds over so great a distance, and through such difficult terrain; and the effects of the exertion could already be seen in its distended nostrils, heaving sides, and lathered shoulders. And the horses, moreover, seemed to be of the finest caliber, swift, strong, and with plentiful stamina. The combined effect of these unfortunate circumstances was that, very gradually, but inexorably, the horses began to gain ground, and slowly diminished the distance between themselves and the two riders.

The chase was by no means a smooth or easy one, as both the wildesteed and the horses were by this time in the midst of a rather dense and tangled forest; but although the horses were fresher, and seemed able at the time to run faster, the wildesteed still appeared to be quicker with his feet, and was able to negotiate the uneven terrain with much greater precision and ease; so that, although it was panting with increasingly laborious gasps, and continued to slow down, it still managed to stay a step ahead of the horses by its better chosen and more agilely negotiated route.

But all of a sudden, this advantage, too, would be eliminated; for the wildesteed had broken through the southern boundary of the forest, and was now on an open plain.

* * * * * * * *

There are certain times, when seeing that there is virtually no possible way of worsening a situation, fate suddenly throws another insurmountable challenge before a beleaguered struggler, almost as if to mock him with an undeniable proof that, no matter how bleak his position may be, she can find a way to make it more impossible yet. This is precisely what happened in the case of our poor heroes: for just as they stepped out of the forest, and into a smooth terrain upon which the fresh, strong horses would soon overtake them, they felt a shadow pass across the napes of their necks; and looking up, they saw a monstrous wyrm in the sky, far behind them, but gaining ground at an astonishing rate. Their future looked grim indeed.

“No, not now!”, the rider cried out in an intensely strained voice; “we’re so close!”. Then, raising a small, brazen horn to his lips, which always hung about his neck (usually it was tucked away beneath his shirt, but at the present, the violence of the ride had jostled it loose), he sounded a long, wavering note. A few seconds later, a bright, white light shot up into the sky from a shallow declivity before them, a piercing light that was very readily visible even in the broad daylight. The wildesteed sprinted straight toward that light.

The riders did not quite reach it, though, before the first and swiftest horse had pulled up beside them. The source of the light was still perhaps two hundred yards away, and the horse was right there, bearing a rider with a countenance grotesquely twisted by an intense hatred and ferocity, and almost within arm’s reach of Mishael and Tobiah. In his left hand, he held a long, narrow dagger, upraised to strike.

The blow was about to fall, and the wildesteed could no longer hold out, or press ahead with any renewed burst of energy; its strength was fading fast. But unexpectedly, it dug its forelegs into the earth, ground to a sudden halt, and swung its great head back to the right, where the horseman was racing beside them. The long, black, spiraled horn of the wildesteed caught the swift horse in the flank and sent it hurtling to the ground, with its rider sprawled out beside it.

Immediately, the wildesteed was back to a gallop, desperately pressing on toward the dazzling white light. The other horses were far enough away that it seemed just able to arrive there ahead of them, but the wyrm was closing in rather more quickly; finally, when they were not more than two or three strides away, it was right above them, arching its back in a terrible fury, and preparing to let loose a searing flame from its dark, scaly nostrils; but the flame never reached them; for just when they entered the light, the flame bearing down upon them was instantly dissolved into a harmless profusion of steam and smoke, such as leaps from the water when men fling a brand of molten iron into a trough. Screaming in rage and frustration, the wyrm veered away in the sky. Off to the left, a horse that had not been able to stop quickly enough to avoid entering the light let out a desperate squeal of pain and terror, and flung itself back away from the overwhelming luminescence. The wildesteed, still gasping for breath, slowed to a walk, groaned, and dropped on its knees to the ground, fully within the circle of preternatural light. Tobiah and Mishael, still half in a daze, scrambled off and let it lie down fully on its side, blowing and snorting most pitifully.

* * * * * * * *

As the two dazed companions staggered forward almost in a stupor, about five or six men, and one young woman, came rushing forward to meet them. Tobiah, regaining his composure almost instantly, commanded at once that water be brought to his exhausted wildesteed, and that it be rubbed down thoroughly, and then walked about at a very modest pace for a little while, before it should be let at complete liberty.

For awhile thereafter, all the persons within that circle of light were thronging about Tobiah, asking after his welfare, and wondering where he had been. Mishael was still in something of a shock, and only gradually came completely to his senses. Finally, after the general tumult had died down just a little, Tobiah summoned Mishael, gathered all his compatriots about him, and proceeded to make the expected introductions.

“This is Mishael, a young man from Fair Semblances” (at that appellation, the entire assembly seemed to gasp collectively, and murmured a few exclamations of surprise under their breath); “He,” Mishael’s sometimes inexplicable rescuer continued emphatically, so as not to admit of any interruptions, “made his way through the Impenetrable Thicket, where I found him far to the west of Waverly Lake, and brought him here to see what should be done with him. It is of the utmost urgency that we call a counsel and devise a plan immediately.”

The others nodded, or otherwise silently expressed their consent.

“And these are my very dear and trusted companions,” Tobiah said, turning at once to Mishael, who was only then beginning fully to recover from the shock of his harrowing ride; “They are, over here, Elkanah,” he said, motioning to his far right, “and then,” he continued, proceeding in order, “Azariah, Tahath, Ethan, and Gilead. Gilead,” he went on to say, “is the brother of our beloved sister Ariel,” – and here he motioned toward the sole woman of the group, a young and very pretty girl of perhaps eighteen or nineteen years of age, with an exceedingly modest and decorous appearance.

“It is most pressing, my partners, that we immediately call a council to determine what should be done about this refugee from Fair Semblances,” Tobiah called out in a louder and more commanding tone of voice; “Tonight, after the sun has set, let us meet together, consider our situation, and devise a plan”.

He abruptly left off speaking; and Ariel, the pretty and very modest woman who had already captured Mishael’s attention, came to him most diffidently, and asked him whether he would like a bite to eat, or a place to rest.

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