The Huntsman and the Hounds On the morning of the third day beyond the borders of Farallon, they came across a wide road that came down from the north, and then curved to the west, close to their own path, and he realized that the Lady had been leading them to this. They had been moving at a good clip down the road for nearly two hours, when they heard hoofbeats behind them, and moved quickly to the side of the road. They stopped to wait, wanting to be prepared for whomever might be coming up the road behind them. Shortly thereafter, the horse galloped into view. The horseman was riding hard, but pulled up quickly when he espied them. He was tall, with dark, wavy hair, and wore dusty riding leathers over what looked to be a green jerkin and brown leggings. A sheathed sword hung from his waist, angled to the rear, chafing against the saddlebags, leaving a score through the dirt that had accumulated thereon. "Milord," he said, loudly to be heard over his horse's hard breathing, and Ranma looked down in surprise, to realize that he had summoned the Dragon Armor without really thinking about it. He had not expected to be addressed thusly, but in this gear, he did indeed look the part, if a bit short for it still. He had grown several inches though. He ate much better now, than when with his father. "and Milady," the rider continued, "ye should get as far from the road as ye can, and quickly. The huntsmen cannot be far behind." His breath was short, and ragged. He looked tired. Ranma glanced at the Lady. They could run if need be, but why fear huntsman? She frowned. "The Huntsman of Lord Ereth?" The rider nodded. "Ye've heard of them I see... then ye know why ye must flee. Hurry, even now I hear the baying of the hounds." Indeed, the baying of many dogs sounded in the distance, and grew steadily louder. Ranma turned to the Lady. "Should we stay or flee? If we flee, we shall fly. I am strong enough. I can bear this man and his horse as well. It is your choice." It pained him to say this. He felt he had been challenged, and wanted to face it straight on, but he was not free to do as he would. The Lady's safety was more important than his pride. "Flee, we must," she replied, "at least until we find a better place to make a stand, for they will not stop the hunt, no matter where we take him. If we bring this man, then we will come to blows with them. But yes, this is a fight you can and will win." The man stared at them, aghast. "This be no matter for joking, Milord, Milady. They mean to kill me, and once they see ye with me, they'll be for killing you both as well. Fly now, while ye have the chance. There's some strength left in my stead, I can lead them from ye a ways." Ranma looked at him. "That won't be necessary. You stopped and warned us, when you had no need, and added thus to your own peril. The Lord Fey will not so lightly cast aside his debts." He didn't notice the extreme pallor that struck the man's face at his name. Instead, he had turned within, and was reaching for his center. He rose easily from the ground, not noticing the man's gasp, and the sudden sweat of his fear. Moments later, the Lady lifted lightly off ground as well. Ranma's brow furrowed, and then the man and his horse rose from the ground as well. Ranma's eyes opened, and he pulled himself into lotus position, there in the air, and seemed to come to rest on something. He spun slowly, facing forward, down the road. Then the air was whistling past them, and the trees blurred, and the road sped away beneath them. The horse's fearful whinny was torn away by the wind, but Ranma's keen hearing caught it, and a blue glow appeared before them, like a massive shield, a concentrated Juushin Jisei Shiirudo, and the wind stilled, though the trees and the road continued to blur past. The sudden cessation of the wind's whistle let him hear the muttered oaths and prayers of the man and the sound of fear in his voice. The Lady laughed behind him in her delight. She always loved flying with him, but this was a new experience. She could see they were moving at great speed, yet they seemed motionless, given the still air. "We will look for a place, Lord, and there you will face them. I don't know, they may fall back before you, but I suspect the rumored fear of Lord Fey will not be as strong as the familiar fear of Lord Ereth. But don't worry. If any man on this world is a match for Lord Ereth and his huntsman, you are. There!" she pointed suddenly, and Ranma brought them to a swift stop where she indicated. "Set us upon that height. Good, now stand full armored, with your sword unsheathed, there on that stone. They will come down that opening, and spread out before you. We are beyond their reach, until they have dealt with you, and they will not get past you." Ranma stood solidly, centering himself to the stone, holding his blade at ready. The Lady and the man stood upon a rise of stone, thrust upward from the stony ground nearly thirty feet into the air, with no easy access to the top for any land-bound creature, several meters behind him. Before him, a stone wall towered, some thirty feet high, split in two by a rocky defile, down which water had once run, carving a path, to pool at the bottom of the hill, though it was dry now. The man turned to the Lady, after staring for a minute with awed eyes at the short man that dared to stand before the Huntsman, and face Lord Ereth. "Lady," he breathed softly, "Is he truly the Lord Fey? I have heard terrible things of him, but never that he had such strength of will, and gave such weight to honor." "He is the Lord Fey now. He cast down the one of whom you have heard, defeated him in the very place where the old Lord was most powerful. His is a pure heart, and a gentle spirit, but the rage of a tiger lies but loosely chained within him." "He seems so large, so powerful standing there, for one so small. Is he a dwarf? I have heard tell of them and their power." "No, he is no dwarf. He is human, and he is a man, but he has only seven years. A child's body, but a man's strength, and a hero's heart." "Seven? He's seven, and he is going to stand and face the Lord Ereth? My God!" He moved as if to leap down, shamed suddenly that he was being defended by a mere boy, but the Lady's commanding voice held him still. "Stay! Do not go to him. You could but hinder my Lord. Do not fear. He will stand firm against them, and they will break against him like water." Even as she spoke, the baying began again in the distance, and steadily rose. As she finished speaking, hounds began to pour down the small opening, filling the wide floor before him like flowing water. They snapped and snarled at him, but as they approached, he began to glow, and it seemed that blue fire flared from the ground at his feet, and licked about him. The hounds growled, but fell back, and sat in silent menace, as their masters approached. The Huntsman appeared then, garbed in a woodsman's outfit, though the cloth was black. In his hand he held a longbow, and the Lady was quick to raise her hand, and whisper a phrase. The man beside her watched with awe, as a shimmer rolled through the air around them. It seemed like they were inside a soap bubble, as slow rings of iridescence rippled through the air about them. The Huntsman growled at the sight of the boy holding his dogs at bay, and notched an arrow to his bow. His arm pulled smoothly back, bending the mighty bow, and then releasing the arrow to fly a perfect course to pierce the fool boy's eye and strike his brain. His mouth dropped in shock, as the boy casually reached up and caught the arrow. Then the boy's blade became a bow, and he notched the arrow, and it burst into blue flame. The boy pulled back, and released, and the flickering blue missile sailed past him, and impacted the rock wall, causing it to explode outward, sending shards of rock down amongst the dogs, sowing confusion and pain, though it caused no real injuries. "I didn't need to miss." The boy's words were quietly spoken, but they seemed to echo from all around, and there was steel in them. "Oh, bravo. Well done, brave fool." A tall man in black armor clapped his hands as he walked down the narrow defile behind his Huntsman. "My, my, what have you done to yourself, Lord Fey? You were tall and strong when I knew you last. Why do you take now the form of a boy to stand in my way?" "I am not the Lord Fey you knew," the boy replied quietly. Again, though the dogs barked and growled, his voice came easily to the ears of all. "I killed him, and took all that was his, and now I have taken your prey. The Hunt is over, Lord Ereth. Take your dogs and go." "Oh, no, Lord Fey. The Hunt is just begun! Now I shall have three harts to pierce." He laughed at his own wry joke, and his laughter was hollow and dark. "Go on, boy. Run, run before me, that I may hunt you down." Again his hollow laugh echoed about them. "How do you propose to make me run, Lord Ereth? You cannot move me." Ranma replied calmly. While talking, Ranma had been reaching out with his senses. He could see now the dark bonds that tied the hounds to the Huntsman, and bound the Huntsman to his Lord. He could see them, and as he looked, he could see the weaknesses. The Lady had told him that no other magic user she had ever met had had his ability to so easily dispel magic, when he could see it. He was powerless against some magic, like that last invisible attack she had sent against him on his first day of training. But when he could see the magic's weave in its completeness, his touch could not be denied. He held himself in readiness. He did not want to force Lord Ereth's hand. He wanted the Lord to commit himself, before he acted, but he truly wanted Lord Ereth to do this. He hated seeing anything held in bondage, and he wanted to free them. But he admitted to himself that if Lord Ereth backed down, and walked away, he would let him go, and would not free the hounds. He was right, in his confidence. Lord Ereth gestured to his Huntsman, and the dogs surged forward, their fear of the fire overwhelmed by their fear of the pain they would feel if they disobeyed. Ranma smiled, as he reached out and tapped lightly, quickly, again, and again, and again. Lord Ereth stared in shocked fury, as one after another his dogs stopped fearing the Huntsman's call, and gave in to their exhaustion. They had been forced to run well beyond their limits to catch up after Ranma's swift flight, and once released, they fell quick victim to their torpor. Finally, he released the Huntsman, who immediately turned and strung his bow, loosing an arrow at his Lord. Ranma was surprised at this reaction, but quick to respond, he tapped it with his ki, and the arrow fell to dust before it reached the Lord Ereth. Then he spoke again. "Huntsman, stop. I did not free you for you to waste yourself in revenge. Get hence, before the dogs begin to awaken, and remember your treatment of them, as you so clearly remember the Lord Ereth's treatment of you. And you, Lord Ereth. You made the wrong choice. Will you make the wrong choice again? Else do as I asked in the beginning, and get thee gone from here." The Huntsman turned and fled, not going near the Lord Ereth or the boy. Lord Ereth snarled in fury, and ripping his sword from its sheath, leapt at Ranma. Ranma's bow again became a sword, and it flared suddenly, golden flames licking the blade. He met the Lord's headlong charge, and turned it aside with the slightest movement. The hunted man, standing beside the Lady, stared in wonder, as the black-armored Lord lunged again and again at the boy, who stood wreathed in flames, and turned aside each attack without even seeming to try. Ranma was feeling distinctly grateful that this Lord had clearly allowed his own skills to lapse, by using others to soften up his prey before killing them. He was not even as good as Roga and Kyris had been. His blade, however, was magical, and Ranma worked hard to ensure that it never came in contact with him, concerned about what it might do. Recognizing the manner in which the Lord was blindly attacking, Ranma fueled the Lord's errant rage, taunting and insulting him, practicing the long unused skills he had learned from his father. He knew that in doing so he would probably have made an enemy for life, but he felt that it was not worth trying to make this cold, hard man a friend. After all, the man felt it necessary to magically enslave even his own servants... not a promising sign. As Ranma taunted him, the Lord Ereth pushed himself beyond his limits in his fury, and quite suddenly, his body just stopped, and he collapsed into sleep, lying spent upon the stony ground. Arkus cried aloud in fury. Once again his hopes had failed him. He had not dared touch Ereth's mind, for he would know it, being used to mental control of his own slaves, but he had not needed to. Ereth had behaved just as Arkus would have wanted him to, attacking all out. But the boy had just stood there! Arkus was not a martial artist, and didn't really notice the boy's movements, minimal as they were. To him, it was as if Fey simply stood, and yet nothing the Lord Ereth did could touch him. Was it the fire that somehow forced the blade aside? Arkus had never seen such fire, and definitely never seen the Dragon Fang glowing with golden flames before. He was furious, but impotent in his rage, powerless to take more direct action for fear of inviting retribution from his Lady. Ranma turned to look at the Lady. "What shall I do with the dogs? And the Lord?" The flames died about him as he sheathed his sword, and he rose lightly through the air. The Lady dropped her magical shield as he approached. She smiled at him. "What do you think you should do?" She asked, eyes twinkling, then warned, "Considering how dogs operate, if you leave them here, they will likely kill kim, and form a pack, operating similarly to a pack of wolves." He sighed. Another test. Always it was another test. She was nearly as bad as his father, for whom everything must be an exercise in training. He considered. "I could place upon them a compulsion to seek their birthplace. If I read the situation aright, these are not dogs the Lord Ereth bred, for if they were, he would not have needed those magical chains upon them. I think he stole them. If I did that, then I could safely leave him here. He will recover consciousness quite shortly... under half an hour, I'd say." "That will do nicely. You have made me proud again, my Lord." She smiled at him, then watched in silence as he went about his work. Then they watched together, waiting patiently, until the first few dogs awoke, and began to leave. When they saw that each took a different but definite direction, they decided that all was well, and he wafted them gently to the road. He bowed to the man, who stood beside his horse. "I thank you again, good sir. You stopped and offered aid to me and my companion, though you did not know us, and though it put you at great risk. I would reward you, if I could. Is there anything you would ask of me?" The man looked at him, finally able to really see the boy, now that he had banished his armor, and again wore his simple black silks. He knelt before the boy, unsheathed his sword, and held it before him, and bowed his head. "Only that you accept my sword in your service, Lord. I have nothing now. Those I loved are dead, and I cannot return to my home. I am nameless, and have nothing but my life, and were it not for you, I would not have that. I offer my life to you now. Will you accept it?" He looked up slowly and saw the boy's eyes swimming with an unnameable emotion. Ranma looked up at the Lady, and she nodded at him. He remembered her description, one night in the study, of what it meant in this land, to be without a name, without fealty. To be Nameless in this world was far worse a fate than to be ronin in Japan. Though it sounded as if the man were offering him something, he knew that in reality, he was asking to receive something worth much more to him. Ranma sighed. It should not be so, that a man's name be worth more than a man's life. But he could not change the whole world, only his small piece of it. "Give me your name, sirrah, and I shall give you mine." Ranma said quietly. "I am called Beorn, Lord." Ranma took his sword, and touched him lightly on each shoulder with it. "Then rise, Beorn of Fey, and take up your sword in service of the Lord of Fey." He gave the sword back to Beorn, who rose slowly, tears of gratitude glistening in his light brown eyes. "But now what am I to do with you? I shall have to find a place for you, when we return. But I cannot send you back without me... They won't know what to do with you. Oh well, I guess you shall have to accompany us to see the dragon. What do you think, Lady?" "Indeed, he should accompany us." She smiled at Ranma, and he knew he had done well. Again, he felt the unfamiliar delight of having won a battle he had not been aware of fighting. "T-to see a d-dragon, Milord?" Beorn's face turned pale again, but Ranma was looking at the Lady, and didn't notice. "Yes. We are going to visit the Lady's sister, to seek her aid with a problem I have." "Oh." was Beorn's response.