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The first chapter of my story. Apprarently, finding a pdf on here is next to impossible.

-1-

Ethelred sat in the bar, nursing a pint of dark lager. His friends had left a few minutes before, but he had stayed to finish his pint. He was still in decent spirits, but merely subdued, perhaps a bit under the influence and sleepy. A full stomach and a few beers will do that to any man, and houyhnhnms were no different. Finishing his pint, Ethelred stood groggily and pushed in his chair before he walked, with only slight swaying of his amply-padded hips (because in fact Ethelred was not thin, even by the Rubenesque standards of the houyhnhnms), by products of many long days at the bakery his family, the Brownmanes, had owned and run for five generations. It was not indeed terribly late, but Ethelred knew that he was due home soon if he was to get up when needed to take over for his parents. Ethelred picked his path carefully through the tables, being careful to tip any over. He was still sober enough to behave in a civilized way, but not entirely stable on his feet. His parents' house was no more than three blocks away, and to get there alone was not dangerous in any way.

The tavern keeper, an older, gaunt houyhnhnm, a gray stallion with a gray muzzle and questioning brown eyes looked up as he saw Ethelred approach. "My boy," he whispered, grabbing Ethelred by the shoulder, "look, I don't think it's wise for you to have any more to drink." Red nodded quickly, speaking slowly and trying desperately not to slur his words, "Sir, I've come to pay my tab, sir, how much will it be?"

Having exchanged the required silver pieces, Ethelred sat down for a moment to catch himself. He felt rather dizzy, and asked the bartender for a minute. The bartender granted him that and brought him a glass of water. The cool, refreshing water brought a certain clarity to Ethelred's head that had not been there previously. As he sat, the throbbing in his head subsided a bit and let him think more clearly. He now merely needed to relieve himself. He stood up, noting also that walking was now less perilous. He walked into the bathroom, relieved himself, and washed his hands.

Leaving the bathroom, the first thing he noticed was a company of dwarves had come into the bar. There were perhaps no more than five to seven of them--in the dim light and with his weakened mind it was hard to differentiate and keep count. But among them, one stood out: he was not a dwarf, but rather an elf, a tall, long-limbed creature, fair in complexion with golden hair that fell neatly to his brows and white collar and a beard neatly trimmed that hugged his face like moss on a rock, one of the dwindling race of the wood elves. Dwarves seldom came to the little town of Mrahina, Ethelred's hometown, because it was near no outpost of civilization. And when some did, it usually made the news of the town for two or three days after they left. But an elf--a wood elf in particular--was a rare sight, Ethelred had never in fact seen one with his own two eyes, and none had visited the town since the days of the eldest members of the village. Ethelred stood, staring for a few moments at the unusual company that had entered into the Palm Frond. While he did so, the elf looked at him, "Can I help you, horse?" Ethelred snapped out of his stupor and tried his best not to slur his words, "I'm sorry; I've never seen a wood-elf before. Your kind are..."

His voice trailed in sadness, and the elf looked down in sadness, "What you say is true. Not that my people were ever common in these lands, but in past days when our people were more open and freer, we would come here at times to participate in the bountiful harvest season of your land that is, evidently, still bountiful," he jested, gesturing at Ethelred. Ethelred blushed in embarrassment, "Indeed, sir, we have enjoyed many years of peace and prosperity. And what of it? We are a free and happy people."

"Not for much longer if things persist as they do," the elf suddenly muttered cryptically. Suddenly, one of the dwarves turned and grabbed the elf, "Do not speak of our business, fool! You do not know what servants the Enemy has listening!" The elf looked afraid, as if he suddenly remembered something of critical importance he had forgotten to do. And he clammed up. Ethelred frowned, "I am no servant of your enemies. I do not even known what you speak of." The elf turned back toward the bar before Ethelred continued, "Please, could I at least have your name?" The elf turned, and in a barely audible whisper, mouthed, "I am Laimonuit, son of Temonuit, a clerk." Ethelred nearly fainted on spot, "A clerk? This is a true honor. Not in many long years has even the lowliest of the clerks come through this town, but stories of their great power are brought to us by the dwarves from time to time. People here will throw you a feast if that news is made known!"

Here, again, the elf looked like he had let something he shouldn't have slip, "No! That fact must be made known to no one but yourself. Not family, not dear friend, none! The enemy will hear of it and destroy this town to find us. We carry information that he does not want anyone else to know. But, say, do you know of a map-maker in this town? The best maps we have are dated and not terribly accurate." Ethelred smiled, "Unfortunately, our town is not big enough to support a cartographer. But depending on where you need to go, I may or may not be able to take you there." The elf looked suspiciously, "My dear boy, do you take me for a fool? I may not be as wise as some of my kin, but I am no fool. The greatest deceit of the enemy is to convince others that they are not his servants. What can you do to prove that you are not a servant of the enemy?"

At this point, the same dwarf who had chastised Laimonuit earlier turned now, angry at Laimonuit, growled, "Laimonuit, listen to yourself, Laimonuit! Asking a man to prove a negative! How foolish you're being! We need no help from the locals! Our maps, despite what you say, are quite sufficient for the area. Goodnight..."

And here, the dwarf realized that he had no name for the stranger, "And was is your name, houyhnhnm?" Ethelred introduced himself, "I am called Ethelred Brownmane. I am a baker who lives three blocks from here. My family has been bakers for five generations. And may I have your names? Dwarves and elves are uncommon here."

Here, the dwarf paused, seeming to weigh whether revealing his name was wise in that circumstance before he whispered, "Bellem, they call me. I'm but a merchant and a warrior. Do you need anything for your bakery?" He was perhaps no more than four and half feet tall (his companions ranged anywhere from three and a half to five feet tall), with black hair and a black beard. His eyebrows were bushy, and he was a stout man, in the manner of the dwarves. The dwarves and the houyhnhnms were very much alike, except that they preferred different places to live and chose complementary skills. Where houyhnhnms were masterful farmers and herders, the dwarves preferred city life and city tasks--most roads, banks, and markets were maintained and defended by the dwarves.

"These here are my comrades. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ethelred. Now, we have private affairs to discuss. We'll be headed upstairs shortly. It was pleasant meeting you."

Ethelred smiled, now having recovered from the clouded mind that had possessed him earlier had evaporated with the discussion. He now realized that it was quite late and that he ought to go home immediately; and he did so, enjoying the quiet darkness of the sleepy little town that didn't seem big enough to support any sort of underworld.

When he got home, Ethelred managed to open the door silently, so as not to wake his younger siblings. Even so, his mother and father were already up making the bread for the next day. Ethelred stopped in his tracks on the earthen floor and smiled sheepishly at his father, embarrassed at his irresponsibility. "I'm very sorry," he whispered, "I lost track of time. I'll be ready for tomorrow when you need me."

His mother smiled, "If you're not," she whispered, "we'll send Erewyn after you." Ethelred smiled, "Now, you know that isn't fair. How could I resist her onslaught?" Ethelred's father Erenred smiled, "It's only what we send after you when you don't wake up at an appropriate hour any other day." Ethelred smiled, "Goodnight, mom; goodnight, dad. I'll see you tomorrow an hour after sunrise." With that he left to undress, and did so in silence, watching the chest of his younger brother Erenwald rise and fall. Erenwald was more than a few years younger than Ethelred (about 4), and was beginning to reach maturity. And though he was young, he was softer and more spoiled. His parents had softened considerably after Ethelred, and being a middle child made Erenwald easy to forget. Erewyn was only about 10 years younger than Ethelred, but was still a girl in demeanor, though she was just starting to grow in wisdom and beauty. She would be both, Ethelred felt in his heart--wiser than he would be at any rate. But Erenwald, Ethelred already worried about the boy. For one, beneath the generous love handles and soft layers of fat rested close to Ethelred a significant layer of muscle from years of running errands and doing other repair work. Erenwald had never shown interest in such mundane affairs, preferring instead to idle, eat, and chase skirts. Ethelred doubted that Erenwald had developed any significant degree of muscle. The boy wasn't stupid; he had shown great cunning in deceiving others and getting off work. Their parents had attributed it to boyhood's mischief.

Then Ethelred remembered the words of the elf Laimonuit. He remembered that the elf had seemed to think that the doting years of peace and prosperity were coming to a close. Would Erenwald be ready for that end? Would he? His aging parents weren't growing younger, nor was his father a particularly stern man. It was difficult for him to be disciplined and to discipline. He was perhaps the fattest of all his family. His clothes had required frequent tailoring in his days. His joints had recently begun to creak when he stood after having sat for a long time, and he seemed to lose his breath walking down the block. But the talk of "the Enemy" disturbed Ethelred the most. Who was he? Why was he insidious? These were questions he needed answers to.

Thoughts like these roamed his mind for awhile thereafter, before he fell into an uneasy sleep and awoke half an hour before he was required to, having awoken from a dream in which he seemed to be in a great dark hall with shifting and unknown horrors, some that would spring forward out of the shadows and grab him. Ethelred had awoken in a cold sweat, unable to shake the thoughts out of his mind. Ethelred noticed that his brother was still in bed, if not necessarily fully asleep. "Get up, Erenwald," Ethelred commanded, knowing how slowly his brother moved. Ethelred dressed quickly and went out into the bakery. Suddenly, Ethelred remembered that his brother was supposed to be helping their father assort the pastries and to stick them in the pans for baking. Noticing Erenwald still in bed, Ethelred hissed as loudly as possible, "Get up, you bum! You were supposed to be up and ready an hour and a half ago!" And with that he shook Erenwald vigorously, bordering on violently, nearly pulling the young man out of bed. Ethelred nearly had his brother's full attention now, "It's almost time to work in the bakery! You were supposed to help dad bake the pastries!"

Erenwald looked like a puppy who had just been scolded for chewing the furniture, "I'm so sorry! I completely forgot, but no one came to wake me, so you can't entirely blame me!" He complained. Then Ethelred snapped, "You damned liar! I heard mother come in at least three times to wake you! You blew her off all three times, but you took advantage of mother's kindness and went back to bed. Even if they will not scold you, I will!" Then, he grabbed Erenwald by the arm and yanked him out of bed onto the dirt floor (for houyhnhnms prefer dirt floors to wood or stone).

Erenwald shouted with surprise as Ethelred pulled him. Suddenly, the sound of running hooves came through the wall. Ethelred stood, dressed in his pajamas, standing over his younger brother seething. His mother ran in and grabbed Ethelred, "What are you doing?" She shouted, snapping Ethelred out of his cold wrath. "This bum," Ethelred raged, "needed to be out of bed an hour and a half ago. The fact that you let this slide baffles me and infuriates me, so I dragged his sorry butt out of bed!" Ethelred's mother grabbed him and shook him, "Listen to yourself. If you have a problem with your brother, you come to me; you are not his disciplinarian. And I will talk to him. Don't do that again." Ethelred sighed and shook his mane, "Yes, mother." His mother looked back at him and frowned. Both houyhnhnms dressed in silence, with many a glare in both directions.

Ethelred found his father frantically trying to align the pastries on the pans and check his pastries in the oven. "Dad, let me help," Ethelred called hurriedly before he rushed over to the oven and tended the pastries. "Thank you, Red," came the frantic reply of his father, who used Ethelred's childhood pet name, "I'm very behind schedule, and I appreciate the help. But we don't have space in the oven for all the remaining dough in the oven in the time 'til opening." Ethelred sighed, "Then I guess we'll have some angry customers today." Then, strolling out from his room came Erenwald, wearing a shirt that barely covered the voluminous expanse that was his midsection and pants whose button looked very strained. "Morinin', dad," Erenwald yawned.

Ethelred went red in the face, but managed to withhold a torrent of nastiness that surfaced in his mind. Erenred sighed, "Look, my boy, you have to do what you've promised to do. You promised your brother you would help me make the pastries so that he could go out last night. You haven't done that, and that's disgraceful. For that, you'll be consigned here for the day."

Those words affronted Ethelred. To only be forced to stay home and not to go out? Was that even a punishment? A beating would have hardly been sufficient in Ethelred's eyes. Erenwald's expression fell, "Father, what have I done to offend you? I have accidentally overslept and am being punished for it?" Ethelred's face, if it could have, would have become more crimson.

"Erewyn, would you come here a moment?" Suddenly, out of some unseen hiding place, Erewyn burst forward--she was still small enough that hiding spots were plentiful for her. "Erewyn," Erenred smiled, "did you wake your brother like I asked?" Erewyn frowned, her dappled face contorted into a sour expression, "I did, three times, in fact, and was told that he would be up in a minute." Erenred in turn blushed, evidently caught in a lie, "Even if that were true, I don't remember it!"

Ethelred smirked, "Well, I do. Erewyn, I don't blame you in the slightest for accidentally waking me--my sleep was fitful last night. I did, however, hear you attempting to wake up Erenwald, and three times, you were blatantly refused. After you left, Erenwald muttered some rather nasty things before he went back to sleep."

Here, Erenwald's face grew angry, and his voice high pitched in an attempt to choke back tears, "I'm sorry I'm perfect! I'm sorry I make mistakes! Erewyn, I'm sorry for blowing you off, and I'm sorry for the things I said this morning in the stupor of my half-awareness, Ethelred. Forgive me. And forgive me, dad, for sleeping through my shift. I was careless and lazy." Ethelred accepted his apology and apologized in turn for dragging his brother out of bed.

All seemed well for a bit. But Erenwald grew lazy again, and Ethelred had frequently to ride the boy to get him to do what needed to be done. Eventually, Erenred noticed what his elder son was doing and commanded Ethelred to stop "pestering your brother." Ethelred tried to explain his actions to his father, to no avail. Erenred would hear none of his son's reasoning, and Erenred was very busy and tired, and his notice of his son was dimmed. Eventually, Ethelred had to command his father to go to bed because his father looked bone tired, to the point of looking ill. At first, Erenred resisted, refusing to go until his work was done, but soon he relented to his son's demands and went to bed. Soon, Ethelred had to be aligning cookies and watching the oven, because Erenwald would suspiciously forget to check batches of goods (Ethelred knew that Erenwald did this so that he could eat them himself later--he didn't mind a dry cupcake so long as he had his seedy friends to bring him beer). But Ethelred was wary of his brother, and Erewyn help keep Erenwald on task. And things were barely done in time for opening. But as soon as the shop opened, the group of dwarves and Laimonuit the elf burst through the door.

Seeing Ethelred behind the counter, Bellem smiled, "Excellent, I'm glad we found the place you told us about last night. Anyway, we'd like provisions--the hardiest you've got, enough to feed us for at least a week or two." Ethelred frowned, "Does this mean that you'll be headed on your way soon? I was hoping to stick around and hear more of the tails that you could tell." Bellem smiled and leaned in, "My dear boy, the quest that we have requires speed and secrecy. You must help us now, and give us what we ask." And raising his voice, "We'll compensate you handsomely." Ethelred looked crestfallen, but before he could retort, a group of Erenwald's friends came traipsing in, obviously hoping to go out with Erenwald. "Excuse me for just a moment sirs," Ethelred smiled.

"Now, guys, I'm sorry, Erenwald must help me in the shop because our father is ill. He's busy today." Erenwald stood up and began to walk over to his friends, "Ethelred, father's just taking a short rest. We had a busy morning making cakes, but he's not ill." "Erenwald," Ethelred growled, "You will sit and tend to the pastries while I mind the shop. That is what father instructed you to do since you did not, in fact, do as you were supposed to this morning." The boys in fact did not seem at all to have cared that a company of dwarves was in their midst, and one things above all do dwarves detest: laziness. At this point, Bellem looked positively ashamed for Erenwald, as if he were the boy's father, and bellowed at Erenwald, "Do as you're told, boy! Your laziness has probably cost your father a good bit of health and sanity! Get back in the kitchen!"

Erenwald jumped, startled at the sudden outburst of the dwarf, who was probably half his height, raising his voice at him. Suddenly, everyone smelled the scent of burning bread. Ethelred remembered that some apple turnovers were in the oven, and rushed immediately to take them out. But he knew immediately that they were charred and unfit to be sold. These were a prized delicacy of the bakery, one that fetched a high price. "Damn it, Erenwald!" Ethelred shouted, "You were supposed to be watching these!" And here Bellem grabbed Erenwald by the wrist (because that was the highest point at which he could reasonably grab him) and kicked a houyhnhnm twice his size in the back of the knee.

Erenwald bent double and clutched at his knee cap, no doubt in excruciating pain, when suddenly, the action of bending caused him fresh embarrassment: the button that had been carefully threaded to hold together the waist of Erenwald's pants suddenly burst open, causing all but Erenwald to laugh. Even his friends chuckled at the event. Laimonuit was nearly bent double himself in laughter at the exchange, and the dwarves, all having less vanity and better sense enough to know when their pants needed tailoring, were all chuckling at their comrade's handling of the situation. Even Erewyn, who usually felt pity for the suffering, was trying with little avail to stifle a giggle. Erenwald picked up the remains of his pants and rushed back to his room.

"Do you gentlemen want these apple turnovers? I'm sorry that my brother burnt them. I'll offer half-price." Ethelred inquired, turning now back to his patrons--of whom none new had yet entered, because the farmers would be in later, and the townfolk were still preparing for the day an hour after sunrise. Erenwald's friends had left, seeing no point in staying. Bellem smiled, "We'll take them for the story that they remind us of. Few have been the joys on this journey. And you seem like a good man. We'll take 'em for half price. And a week's worth of bread rations." Ethelred smiled, "Well, sir, I'm afraid I'm going to have to charge you double for the inconvenience. But that can be arranged. I'll need you to wait here for a bit. Where has Erenwald gone off to?"

"Never mind the boy, probably just skulking in his room, don't worry about it." Getting the bread together, Ethelred called Bellem over and whispered to him, "Sir, Bellem, where are you going that requires such great secrecy?" Bellem smiled, "My friend, we're going to the academy at, how do you say it? Bruh-rap-uh?" "Brarhapa, Brah-rah-pah, with stress on the second syllable," Ethelred half-whinnied, "We rendered the name partially into the common tongue so that you dwarves could say its name." Bellem nodded, "Yes, thank you, but we think our map is sufficient for the purposes of finding Brarhapa."

Ethelred frowned, "You said you needed to move with great secrecy. The paths that your map is likely to have will be main roads. They will be watched heavily by whomever your enemy is. The roads hitherto have been largely desolate, have they not? That's because this is a border town, and those roads are seldom used save in times of war. We houyhnhnms have not been to war in centuries. But I know of roads that lead into the capital that are used mainly by those of us not looking to pay the entrance tariffs of the capital--because they have increased recently, and we simply cannot afford to pay the prices of such methods. Fortunately, bureaucrats are none to wise. You will need me if you are not to be seen."

Bellem frowned, not knowing whether to believe the houyhnhnm or not, but suddenly, he whispered, "I for one, trust your words. Meet us tonight where you met us last night. In the meantime, I will discuss with my men, and we will decide whether we want your help. Meet us an hour after dark." Ethelred smiled, he would need to tell his father, whom he was sure would be pleased to see him go.