Summary: A rather silly mix of Greek mythology and the Cartwrights…
Rating: G
Words: 2,400
The Brandsters have included this story by this author in our project: Preserving Their Legacy. To preserve the legacy of the author, we have decided to give their work a home in the Bonanza Brand Fanfiction Library. The author will always be the owner of this work of fanfiction, and should they wish us to remove their story, we will.
A Private Myth
Ben stopped, panting slightly, feeling confused. He knew he had to get to the seashore in the quickest possible way, he had to help Audrey. But which way should he go? And how could he get there on time? He knew he had to go south, but there was the danger that he wouldn’t make it in due time. If he only had a horse…
“I sometimes wish I had four legs myself,” he mumbled, his own two starting to hurt from the long march. A snort from behind startled him to turn around.
From among the trees emerged a curious figure. Ben slowly raised his eyes from the hooves to the sleek black legs, shiny black coat and then the handsome male head set on the broad shoulders.
“I see you can acknowledge our benefits,” noted the stranger in a pleasant voice. “However odd the wish may be for a human.”
He sized Ben up calmly, just as Ben did him a moment before, and asked with a superior air and not very kindly, “What are you gaping at? Never seen a centaur?”
Ben shook his head mutely, staring at the strange creature in amazement.
“Well, then, gape to your heart’s delight,” clipped the centaur. “You may never see such a beautiful creature again.” He laughed roughly, making a slow circle around Ben and scrutinising him as he walked. “A bit old for the exercise, aren’t you? You two-legged creatures are pathetic, really. Well, not all, maybe, I’d narrow it to humans.” He stopped, pondering. “Humans. Possibly the weakest creatures in the world. Yes, I think so. What are you good for, anyway?”
The question was obviously rhetorical, for the centaur didn’t seem to expect an answer. “I think you’ve gaped long enough,” he noted.
While Ben was listening silently to the creature, a plan began to form in his mind. He needed four legs of a horse, right? He somehow had the feeling that the centaur wouldn’t welcome a guest on his back, so he figured there was no point in asking and thus warning him. He slowly reached for the short sword he had at his side.
“Wish on for the four legs, human,” the centaur threw over his shoulder, leaving. Ben took a couple of quick steps – just enough not to alarm the creature prematurely – and jumped on the black, shiny back.
The centaur whinnied almost fearfully and reared. Ben’s heart constricted with the sound, for he would never hurt the creature intentionally, but he turned his thoughts towards Audrey and gripped his weapon more tightly.
The centaur froze, terrifyingly still, when he felt the sharp tip of the short sword’s edge at his back.
“What do you want?” he croaked in a strangled voice, due to Ben’s strong arm encircling his neck. “You become neither a hero nor a demigod for killing centaurs…”
“I just need to get to the seashore,” explained Ben gently. “I don’t want to hurt you, I just need help.”
The centaur’s chest heaved heavily, but he didn’t dare move yet for the tip of the knife at his back. “Can’t breathe,” he croaked, to which the grip on his neck loosened immediately, although not completely. He coughed slightly. “What am I, a horse?” he protested, albeit still carefully.
“I have to be there before sundown,” said Ben. “I need your help.” To show his good intentions, he slowly withdrew the knife. “I need to save someone before the dragon gets her.”
“The DRAGON?” exclaimed the centaur, turning his head to look at Ben with disbelieving eyes. “I’m supposed to get you somewhere where there is a dragon?”
“You’re not afraid, are you, Centaurus?” asked a young voice from the wood, and Ben saw a boyish figure appear in front of them. “You’re not afraid of AAAAAAAANYTHING,” the boy threw his arms wide apart to show the scope of ‘anything’.
“Oh, be quiet, Kid!” snorted the centaur with impatience, pushing Ben’s offending arm away from his neck.
Well, mused Ben quietly, a ‘kid’ it was. Little more than a boy from the waist up, and no less than a – kid, that is: goat, from the waist down. Pan pipes dangled from his neck. A faun, clearly. Well, at least where there were centaurs, there should have been fauns and other such creatures.
“You can be a hero!” exclaimed the ‘Kid’ excitedly, making the centaur lose his already fragile hold on self-control.
“Scoot!” he thumped his hoof down, shifting uncomfortably under Ben’s weight.
The little one giggled and disappeared into the forest, while the centaur shifted to the side again, clearly uncomfortable with his burden.
“If we set out now, we might be able to reach the shore before the dragon gets there,” noted Ben calmly, wishing briefly for a set of good old bridle and reins. “I’m not asking you to fight the dragon, I’m not even asking you to see it,” he argued. “All I ask is to get to the shore so that I can save Audrey.”
Centaurus snorted, shifted again, shook with displeasure, then grumbled something under his breath.
“What did you say?” asked Ben innocently. He saw a change in the tense back and shoulder muscles in front of him and the centaur turned his head to look at him seriously.
“Just get you to the seashore,” he said.
“Just get me to the seashore,” confirmed Ben.
“Nothing else.”
“Nothing else.”
The centaur shifted uncomfortably again and broke into a trot. “Hold on,” he grunted before accelerating into gallop.
They’ve been travelling for a while when a shadow of a huge eagle sailed over them and an infectious giggle reached their ears. “Here! Here!” called the young voice, and the eagle descended in front of the centaur together with its burden. The Kid jumped down from the eagle’s back, ran up to Centaurus, who’d stopped, and reached up to him with the bow and arrows he was holding.
“I thought you could use it,” he offered with a brilliant smile.
The centaur snorted, grabbed the bow and the quiver, tousled the Kid’s hair affectionately and winked. “Thanks.”
Kid granted him another brilliant grin and climbed back up on the eagle. “I’ll go to the shore and play as long as the coast is clear,” he offered brightly, giggling at the pun. “When I see the dragon show up, I’ll stop playing, so that you know beforehand.”
“Don’t go anywhere near…” shouted Centaurus, but the giggly laughter was already flying away with the whoosh of the eagle’s wings.
“… the coast,” finished the centaur resignedly. “Fool Kid. Never thinks. Hope he gets clear long before the dragon’s there.”
“The quicker we get there, the sooner you can tell him to get clear,” supplied Ben helpfully. The centaur shot him a deadly glare over his shoulder, secured the bow and arrows on his own back and started again in the direction they’d been heading in.
After a while, they heard music flowing on the fresh breeze from the shore.
“We’ll be there soon,” Centaurus informed Ben. “Looks like we might make it before the dragon.”
“I do hope so,” admitted Ben, relaxing slightly.
Not much later, the centaur stopped, and Ben dismounted. On the nearby hill, the little faun kept playing his panpipes, mindful of his promise. Free of his burden, Centaurus stretched his back thoroughly, much like a cat. The waves weasled their way closer and closer to his hooves; the wind began to pick up. They could see a woman’s figure chained to a rock on a small island not far from the shore.
“Audrey,” relaxed Ben. He was startled by Centaurus’ voice.
“I’ll try to distract the dragon if it appears before you set her free.”
Noticing Ben’s surprised look, the centaur shrugged his naked shoulders. “I don’t know how I got talked into this, but if I’m already here, I may as well go on and help you.” He squinted into the direction of the island and stated, “You’ll have to swim there, no way I can get you over. I’m no Pegasus.”
Ben nodded, deeply grateful for the offered help, and turned towards the water. No sooner had he taken two steps towards the waves than there was a loud crash and a startled yelp. The strange skip in the flowing music was the proof of Kid’s equal astonishment.
The centaur rubbed his scorched skin with a pained expression, which then turned into surprise. Out of his withers, right where the thunder struck, rose two strong black wings.
Centaurus closed his eyes, trying to strangle the fury exploding somewhere inside of him, then glanced upwards with a scowl. Following his line of sight, Ben saw a kingly figure, filling with obvious comfort a golden throne up in the skies. The figure was tossing up and down in his big hand something closely resembling another thunderbolt, while the kind blue eyes were smiling.
“That’s what you wanted, right?” boomed down the voice of the figure.
Centaurus mumbled something that sounded like ‘me and my big mouth’, threw another scowl upwards, this time less convincing, and pointed at Ben. “You’d better do your hero stuff well, ‘cause I’m not doing it for nothing.”
Ben smiled gratefully both at the centaur and at Zeus’ royal figure in the skies. In return, he got a scowl and a wink, respectively.
“You’d better mount up,” grunted Centaurus. “The dragon may get here any minute now.” He glanced furtively upwards, mumbling, “He wouldn’t eliminate the dragon, of course.”
The figure in the skies cleared his throat warningly. “He’s the hero,” Zeus pointed to Ben. “You’re his Pegasus. I ain’t gonna write any more o’ this fairy tale for ya. Now get to work.”
The centaur snorted but let Ben mount up, and they left the ground with a few powerful strokes of the big black wings. They were sailing over the darkening waters when the melody from the shore rocketed in a sharp, alarming whistle, and the waters broke open to let a frightful shape out of their throats.
The centaur reared in the air, out of surprise more than fear, and swiftly changed direction – just in time to avoid the stream of fire that was supposed to burn them down. Bow in hand, he repeatedly shot in the dragon’s direction, but the arrows slipped, unharming, off the monster’s skin.
Ben gazed at the creature in awed astonishment – as fierce as in the Europeans legends, and as clear and vivid in colour as the dragons on Chinese paintings… The tail of the monster crashed into the ground, shaking it with the force behind it, and Ben searched with his eyes for the little figure that had been playing on the hill –
A little curly head and a pale face emerged from among the trees, watching the continuing battle, more fearful for the fighting ones than for himself. And reason he had, as the dragon’s fiery breath missed the brave centaur and human by what seemed barely half an inch.
“The Medusa!” Centaurus cried out, seeing the frailty of their strength in front of the powerful creature. “Show the Medusa!”
Instantly understanding the message, Ben quickly reached to the bag he suddenly had at his side, and pulled out the wobbly, gelly-like shape of a meduse; he took a good swing and threw the small transcendent creature at the dragon which roared frightfully and suddenly burst into thousands of sharp glass pieces –
Ben opened his eyes abruptly. His brain had registered the sound of breaking glass, and recognised it to be different than the sounds he had supposedly heard before.
A dream. He realised it and started chuckling, each passing second pointing out to him the illogicalities of the still vivid images. And the Meduse – he cackled; trust his sailor’s mind to be so earth-, uhm, sea-bound. He realised that the sound of breaking glass had been real. It was proven by the remnants of the glass, lying on the floor. He must have really swung out in him dream, he chuckled.
The door creaked, and a worried voice whispered, “Pa?”
“I’m fine, Adam,” he assured his son, turning towards the light of the lamp Adam was carrying. “I just had the strangest dream ever.”
“Oh. Really?” Relief coloured the deep voice. “What was it… oh.” Adam stopped just in time not to step on the glass shards. “You sure everything’s fine?”
“Yes,” Ben smiled at him easily. “The strangest dream, like I said. Must have reached out a bit too far for that glass to survive,” he winked.
Adam relaxed fully, sensing Ben’s ease. “May I ask what the dream was about?” he inquired, squatting to gather as much of the glass as he could.
“Be careful, son,” Ben reacted instantly; yet Adam’s lopsided smile told him he worried too much in his son’s opinion. He pondered his son’s question, and remembered that Adam had been telling the adventures of Perseus to little Laura, Audrey’s youngest. Wonder what the girl was dreaming about tonight… He then thought of the faces of Centaurus, the Kid, and Zeus, and decided Adam would hardly believe him. “The dream was just… strange. Not very, uhm, consistent.”
“That’s the way dreams are,” Adam whispered back, straightening from his task. In his hand he held a small broom, of the kind that Hop Sing kept around the house for smaller tasks, so he didn’t have to go to the small storeroom each time a glass broke or a bit of tobacco or sugar got spilled. “I’d still suggest you get up on the other side of the bed in the morning. Don’t care to tell me the dream anyway?”
“Not really, Adam,” Ben relaxed against the pillows. “I’m sorry I woke you son. Go back to bed. I think I’m bordering on Morpheus’ kingdom myself.”
“Morpheus,” Adam raised his eyebrow, shaking his head. “I suppose you heard me telling stories to Laura.”
Ben chuckled. “Good night, son.”
“Night, Pa.”
The door closed and quiet steps shuffled away in the direction of Adam’s room. Ben chuckled louder into the pillow. Adam would never know how close he’d been to discovering the content of Ben’s dream… With an impish smile, Ben reached to the drawer and pulled out his journal, turning the lamp up a bit.
“The strangest dream of my life…”
The End
