I got this idea from a web site on How to Field Dress a Unicorn.
Kobi strode quietly through the early morning drizzle, wisps of fog floating through the trees in front of him. It was late summer and the Seven Tribes Great Circle Hunt was still 3 moons away. His family needed to eat now.
At fifteen summers he was old enough to help feed the family, especially as his father, Imre, had broken his leg while breaking one of the wild horses he’d traded for a month ago. His father had promised him all of the pelts from the animals he hunted while his father’s leg healed. It was a chance to accumulate some wealth earlier than he normally would have.
While he hunted, he thought about Sonia, the miller’s daughter. She had flashing, black eyes that followed him around the square on market day. A flash of white broke his reverie. He stood still, mouth slightly open to give his hearing better range. A rustle in the brush a hundred feet ahead of him caused him to turn his head slowly in that direction.
He pulled an arrow from his quiver and began to raise his bow, slowly, so as not to startle the animal. It sounded big, maybe a deer. That would feed the family for a long time and give him a nice deer hide to add to his collection for trading, later at the great market after the Circle Hunt.
As he placed the arrow on the bow, a white head broke through the bushes. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was silver white with flowing mane. A unicorn? The shaman had told stories of unicorns but Kobi thought they were just fables.
“Boy. Boy, don’t shoot.” The unicorn was only half out of the bushes.
Kobi lowered his bow slightly but held some tension on the bow string, eyes riveted on the horn protruding from the animal’s forehead.
“Help me boy, and you’ll be blessed with luck all of your days.”
Kobi lowered the bow a little more. “Are you a unicorn?”
The unicorn tossed its head, “I am. My name is Vica, and I’m the last female unicorn. My hoof is caught in a tangle of roots. Help me and a lifetime of good fortune will be yours.”
He dropped the bow to his side, releasing the tension on the string but still held the arrow in place. “My name is Kobi. My family is hungry, my father is injured. We need food and I could sell your pelt for two mares.”
“Wealth is fleeting Kobi. Better is luck following you all of your days. You just have to help free my hoof and it will be yours.”
Kobi understood luck; if his father had any luck, he wouldn’t have broken his leg. His uncle Stanic wouldn’t have died, coughing up blood and wasted away to skin and bones.
“Vica, how do I know I would have this luck you claim to be able to gift?” He could see the unicorn straining to pull her back left foot free from something hidden in the depths of the brush.
The animal tossed its head, sending its mane flying. “I will touch you with my horn. You will feel the magic flow to you.”
He snorted, “skewer me more like, unicorn. I’m not such a fool to get close enough to that weapon for you to kill me.” He brought the bow up again.
Vica shook her head, “No, trust me. Have you ever heard a story about a unicorn killing someone?”
Kobi paused, “No. No, I don’t think so, but I’m not going to take a chance on a possible gain when I have something real right in front of me.”
He began to pull the arrow back to his ear.
“NO, please! I’m the last female of my kind. Would you kill out an entire race just for a fur and a horn?”
He pulled the arrow all the way back, “Why not? What have you done for us lately?”
He released the arrow and with a thwack, it struck the unicorn in the throat. Vica gave a strangled scream and she rose up on her back legs, using her front hooves to try and dislodge the arrow.
Blood poured from the wound and it wasn’t long before the unicorn fell. Kobi could hear the trapped leg snap as she fell on her side.
He ran home and got a sledge and by afternoon had field dressed the animal. The fully loaded sledge was heavy to pull but he made it home.
He held the unicorn pelt but sold the hooves and horn and inner organs to the tribe shaman. At first, he was wealthy. The meat kept the family well fed until the Circle Hunt. The hide bought him two mares and a stallion. The miller granted him the hand of fair Sophia and she began to bear children right away.
Then the drought came and really never left. Hordes of invaders came from the east, burning the villages and killing the children. The shamans claimed it was the loss of the unicorns protection and while they didn’t expel him from the tribe, he was shunned.
In his old age, he sat begging in the village square, joints crippled with arthritis, telling his story about the unicorn.
“I should have helped the unicorn,” he croaked. “But how was I to know the consequences of the loss of something I never knew existed?”
The End
Words 908
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