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Rated: E · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1459766
Anti-Formula Challenge: A damsel in distress is rescued by her Prince Charming
The boy she’d loved had called her Rapunzel, and spent hours toying with her long, silky mane. The ones she was with now just said “that piebald thing,” when they spoke of her at all. Too often she got nothing but a curse and an ungentle blow to her rump when she failed to understand what they wanted. Understanding didn’t come easy in the muggy green world of the forest. Rapunzel longed for the open fields and level paths back home, the ones she’d wandered with her boy.

But the men had come, and there had been loud noises, and then Rapunzel and her companions had been led away as fast as they could run. Each of those taken with her had been claimed by one of the men, and had become accustomed to captivity. Only Rapunzel was left out.

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“Just stake her out,” said Brady.

“You sure? I mean, she’s not a bad horse.”

“You going to say that when somebody spots that white blob on her butt and figures out where we got her? That’s four murders, Beau. Besides, don’t you want the bounty on that panther?”

“We could use a goat.”

“We’re using the mare, and then we’ll be rid of her. Do it!”

Beau knew better than to argue with Brady when he got that tone in his voice. He tied the lead from the mare’s halter to a sturdy stake and pounded it into the ground.

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Some days, life for a horse was just no good at all. Aurion came to a halt in the barnyard, and the girl slid off his back, spun and sliced him across his golden rump with her whip.

“Nancy!” her father cried.

“He dumped me, Daddy! He dumped me in the mud in front of Charlotte and her brothers!”

“Well, I told you to take a steadier horse! That colt’s still green, for heaven’s sake!”

“That colt is evil!” She raised her whip again, this time aiming for his face.

Aurion had had enough. He was three years old, more than a colt, almost a stallion. He spun end for end, gathered himself and lashed out with both back legs. The whip went flying through the air in one direction, the girl in another, and Aurion himself flew off in yet a third, over a fence and across a cornfield toward the shelter of the woods.

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If horses had a devil, it would take the form of a panther. Great golden cats haunted the woods and cliffs and even the prairies, ready to jump on the back of anyone who let them get close, choke off their breath and rip their bellies open with steely claws.

Rapunzel could smell the cat, but she couldn’t run. She danced around the stake at the end of her tether, her eyes rolling, her ears darting this way and that, trying to tell where the panther lurked. The men were gone, though not far, she thought. They had taken the companions of her youth. Rapunzel wanted to call to them, but she didn’t dare, for the cat would hear.

Of course, no amount of silence would keep the cat from smelling horseflesh. Rapunzel tugged harder at the rope and the stake.

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There were men ahead, men and horses. Aurion slowed to a cautious walk. He wanted nothing more to do with men for as long as he lived. There was another smell, though, another horse, and this one was terrified. Aurion edged his way around the men, careful that the saddle and bridle he still wore didn’t catch on the underbrush. Yes, there was a mare there, bright chestnut like a penny, with a white spash across her rump like the last patch of snow in the hollows under the hedge.

Having got this close, Aurion, too, could smell the panther. He minced into the clearing, eyes rolling. The mare gazed at him, nostrils flaring.

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The panther chose that moment, when Rapunzel was distracted, to spring at her, but it hadn’t reckoned with the stallion. He spun about and kicked, and the cat was knocked away. It didn’t stay down for long, but in that moment of sheer terror, Rapunzel had reared, and the stake had popped free. She bolted, not caring in what direction she went, so long as it was away from the cat. Aurion followed her, and the cat followed him, and they all ran directly toward the men.

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“Lot of noise out there,” said Beau.

“Be over soon,” said Brady. “Let it kill the mare, and we’ll sneak up on it while it’s eating. You got your rifle loaded?”

“Yeah,” said Beau, running his fingers down the barrel, “but...” Before he could finish there was a terrified equine scream, a snarl and the pounding of hooves. From the woods emerged not one horse, but two: the piebald chestnut mare, dragging her stake, and a golden stallion still wearing a bridle and saddle.

Right behind them came the panther. Seeing its prey escape, it settled for the nearest thing that wasn’t running. It leaped on Brady.

Beau levelled his rifle, took careful aim and shot the cat. It sprang away, ran for a few paces, staggered and fell. It was dead. So was Brady.

Behind Beau their own horses had broken their tethers and followed the fleeing pair. Well, Beau thought, good luck to them. The bounty for the panther would buy him all the horses he needed, and none of them would be stained with blood. He got his shovel and began to dig Brady’s grave.

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Aurion scrubbed against a tree. A few more tries, he was sure, and he could rid himself of the irksome saddle. Rapunzel and the others had broken their lead ropes short already. They would head west, out of the forest and into the great grasslands, where horses were meant to be. He scrubbed again, and felt the girth break. The saddle fell free, and Aurion danced. His band, Rapunzel and her two ladies in waiting, pranced a bit in response.

Life was good after all, Aurion decided, and led them westward.

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Many thanks to "Invalid ItemOpen in new Window. for the cool prompt.
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