well done. My compliments to the cook." Mudge said
nothing.
Jon-Tom watched the visitor closely. Was he going to
cut meat with it... or throw it? He couldn't decide.
Something came flying through the air toward him. He
ducked and rolled, ending up on his feet holding the
ramwood staff protectively in front of him. Mudge picked
up his bow and notched an arrow into the string. Roseroar's
longswords flashed as they were drawn. All within a
couple of seconds.
Hathcar was careful not to raise the knife he now held.
Behind him, his colleagues gripped their own weapons
threateningly. But the cuscus was not glaring at Jon-Tom.
His gaze was on the creature who had come flying through
the air to land heavily next to the tall human.
The mongoose was clad entirely in black. It lay on its
belly, moaning. Strange marks showed on its narrow backside.
"Faset," Hathcar hissed, "what happened?" The mon-
goose rolled to look at him, yelped when its bruised pelvis
made contact with the ground.
"I happened." Everyone turned toward the voice.
The unicorn strolled casually into the clearing. It was
gold. Not the light gold of a palomino but a pure metallic
gold like the color of a coin or ring, except for white
patches on its forehead and haunches. It might have risen
from a vat of liquid gold except that Jon-Tom could clearly
see that the color was true, down to the shortest hair.
In its mouth it carried a small crossbow. This it dropped
at Jon-Tom's feet. Then it nodded meaningfully toward the
still groaning mongoose. Jon-Tom now recognized the
marks on the mongoose's pants. They were hoofprints.
Hathcar was beside himself as he glared furiously at the
unicorn. "Who the hell are you, four-foot? And who
asked you to interfere? This is none of your business."
The unicorn gazed at him out of lapis eyes, said coolly,
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THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
227
"1 am making it my business." He smiled at Jon-Tom.
"My name's Drom. I was grazing back in the woods when
I heard the talk. Ordinarily I would have ignored it, as I
ignored your presence." He nodded toward the mongoose,
who was trying to crawl back to its comrades while
avoiding Hathcar.
"However, I happened to chance upon this ebon worm
as he was aiming his little toy at your back." Drom raised
a hoof, brought it down on the crossbow. There was a
splintering sound. "The unpleasant one there," and he
nodded toward Hathcar, "was right. This was none
of my business. I don't trouble to involve myself in
the affairs of you social types. But I can't stand to
see anyone backshot." He turned his magnificent head,
the thin golden goatee fluttering, and glared back at
Hathcar.
"Yo ah a true gentlemale, suh," said Roseroar approvingly.
"You should have stayed out of this, fool." Hathcar
moved quickly to join his gang. "Anyway, he lies. No
doubt this insect," and he kicked at the miserable Faset,
"was trying to put a bolt through you. But that has nothing
to do with me."
"You called him by name," Jon-Tom said accusingly.
"A casual acquaintance." Hathcar continued to retreat.
His backers muttered uneasily.
"Glad you don't know 'im, friend." Mudge's arrow
followed the cuscus's backpedaling. "I'd 'ate to think you
'ad anything to do with 'is little ambushcade."
"What about your invitation?" Hathcar wanted to know.
"I think we'd rather dine alone," Jon-Tom smiled
thinly. "At least until we can sort things out."
"That's not very friendly of you. It's not polite to
withdraw an invitation once extended."
"My back," the mongoose blubbered. "I think my
back is broken."
"Shut up, asshole." Hathcar kicked him in the mouth
and blood squirted. The cuscus tried to grin at the tall
man. "Really, this thing has nothing to do with me." His
band was beginning to melt into the forest. "Always
hanging around, looking for sympathy. Sorry our visit
upset you. I understand." Then he too was gone, swallowed
by the vegetation.
Roseroar's ears were cocked forward. "They're still
movin' about," she murmured warily.
"Where?" Jon-Tom asked her.
"Back among the trees."
"They are spreading out in an attempt to encircle you,"
said the one-horned stallion.
"Permit me to congratulate you on your timely arrival,
mate." Mudge's eyes searched the woods as he spoke. "I
never sensed 'im."
"Nor did I," said Roseroar, sparing a glance for the
remains of the crossbow.
"I don't understand," Jon-Tom murmured. "We offered
them all the food they could eat."
"It wasn't just your food they were after." Drom kicked
the crossbow fragments aside. "I know that bunch by
reputation. They were after your weapons and armor, your
Fine clothes and your money."
Mudge let out a barking laugh. "Our money! Now
mat's amusin'. We haven't a copper to our names," he
lied.
"Ah, but they thought you did." The unicorn nodded
toward the forest. "Small comfort that would have been to
you if they had learned that afterwards."
"You're right there."
Roseroar was turning a slow circle, keeping the roasting
carcass at her back as much as possible. "They're still out
theah. Probably they think we can't heah them, but ah
can." She growled deep in her throat, a blood chilling
sound. "Our friend here is right. They're trying to get
behind us."
"And to surprise you. Hathcar did not show his full
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THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
229
strength. Many more of his band remained concealed while
he spoke to you."
Jon-Tom eyed the silent trees in alarm. "How many
more?' *
"A large number, though, of course, I am only guessing
based on what I could observe during my approach."
"We appreciate your help. You might as well take off
now. Our problems aren't yours."
"They are now," the unicorn to!d him. "These are
indifferent murderers, full of false pride. I have embarrassed
their leader in front of his band. Now he must kill me or
lose face and possibly his status as leader."
Roseroar strode toward the back of the clearing. "Move
in heah, where theah's some covah."
The unicorn shook his head, the mane of gold rippling
in the filtered tight. "It will not be good enough, tigress. I
can see that you are powerful as well as well-versed in
war, but there are too many of them, and you will be
fighting in very close quarters. If they come at you from
all directions simultaneously you won't have a chance.
You require a more defensible position."
"You know of one?" Jon-Tom asked him.
"It is not far from here. I think if we can get there we
will be able to stand them off."
"Then let's get the hell out of here," he muttered as he
shouldered his pack.
Mudge held back, torn between common sense and the
effort he'd put into their supper. Roseroar saw his hesitation.
"A full belly's small consolation to someone with his
guts hangin' out. Ah declah, short-whiskahs, sometimes
ah wondah about yo priorities."
"Sometimes I wonder meself, lass." He looked longingly
back at the lost roast as they hurried through the woods,
following the stallion's lead.
Drom maintained a steady but slow pace to enable his
newfound friends to keep up with him. Everyone watched
the surrounding woods. But it was Roseroar's ears they
relied on most.
"Stayin' carefully upwind of us, but I can heah them