Ginger princess's Arc

Chapter 1 of 7

The ginger princess drove the first stake into the meadow at dawn, and the wild horses did not run. That was how she knew the land would let her build here. She had ridden three days east with her two lovers to find a valley no lord had claimed, a place where she could keep horses safe and bake honeybuns for the only people she wanted to feed. The stake stood. She tied a red ribbon to it and got to work. Laird Thomas came up the slope with a beam on his shoulder. His brown hair was tied back and his sword was still on his hip, because he never set it down near open country. He dropped the beam where she pointed. "Porch line," he said. "I'll cut the posts before dark." She kissed his stubbled jaw and told him the porch would wrap the whole cabin, three rocking chairs, one for each of them. He nodded once. He liked plans that named all three. Fancy Pants worked the horses. Her curly salt and pepper hair was pulled back and her golden pants caught the sun every time she moved. She walked among the herd with both hands open, saying nothing, until a gray mare came and put its nose in her palm. "This one stays," she said. That was the whole conversation. The ginger princess laughed and went to the mare and whispered against its neck, promising apples, promising shelter, promising no bit and no whip, ever. By the third day the cabin had walls. By the fifth it had a roof of red shingle and a stone chimney that smoked clean. The ginger princess planted flowers along the porch skirt. She built the outdoor oven herself, brick by brick, so the honeybun trays could go straight from dough to fire. She baked a first batch that evening. Thomas ate two without speaking. Fancy Pants ate one and said, "Again tomorrow." The horses drifted closer to the porch and stayed. On the sixth morning she stood in the wet grass and looked at what they had made. Three rocking chairs on the porch. Smoke from the chimney. A ring of horses grazing without fear. She whispered thanks to the land and to the two people who had followed her into it. That was when the shadow crossed the meadow. She looked up. A dark unicorn circled once above the trees on wings like a bat's, its horn catching light, its eyes burning red. A second came behind it. Then a third. They did not land. They watched. Thomas was already at her side with his hand on the sword hilt. Fancy Pants stepped in front of the gray mare and went very still. The ginger princess did not move. The haven was built. Something had noticed, and wanted to join, the scent of warm buns and the sound of laughter drawing them in, ginger princess announced all horses even dark unicorns who remain peaceful are welcome.