Profane Tales: Traps
1
“You must not stray from the path laid out for us. It has
less to do with following orders and more to do with remaining secure,” the
Unicorn told his mortal charge.
The Princess yawned, basket in hand and hood over her head.
“Have you seen many dangers lately?” she asked the Unicorn.
“The very place you journey to is a danger,” the Unicorn
insisted. “I know not why you trust that old woodsman. Men like him think of
one thing—“
Amy groaned. It was not that she doubted the Unicorn’s reasoning.
He and the whole world warned her of this vague horror at the hands of men, so
she had no choice but to believe in its brutal, looming presence. But how she
had heard this lecture one hundred times over.
“As long as you are with me I will be safe,” she offered
this more for the Unicorn’s sense of ease than her own.
The creature was silent but shook his shimmering mane. Amy
recognized the gesture as a positive affirmation so she smiled. They crunched
through the snow in quiet for a time.
“Unicorn?” the hooded maiden asked, as the woods darkened.
“Dear?” he responded.
“Why is it growing dark so early?”
“The Fae, most likely. Follow my light and do not stray.
They are not demons but they are still dangerous.”
Amy trained her eyes on the Unicorn’s luminescent horn. Its
bluish glow casts against trees and stumps and other jagged silhouettes. She
went to set a hand on her friend’s flank but recalled that he did not much
enjoy being touched. So, she refrained though it would have aided her greatly
in the growing illusions around her.
The dark became pitch to her inexperienced eyes and terror
filled her heart.
“Unicorn!” she called out.
“Follow the light, Princess!” the Unicorn’s voice came.
She rubbed her eyes but saw not one, but three blue lights.
“Unicorn, which light is yours?”
The noises of the forest flooded out her voice and her
friend creature’s. She could hear the Unicorn but could not judge from what
direction. She gulped and chose a light
with a nursery rhyme from her childhood. It was intended to help a babe choose.
“Pickle, pepper,
powder, prune. Though your taste is bitter, I chew…” she closed her eyes
and opened them to see her little pointer finger on one of the lights “you!”
She picked that light and hoped it was the Unicorn.
2
The sound of singing served to draw the Princess from the
dark.
She crawled out of the dimmed forest to discover a clearing
with lake and sunlight. So it was still daylight after all?
The singing voice was alien to her, at once soothingly high
and with a hint of rustic charm. Wind flutes followed and Amy drew ever closer
to the sound. She casts a dark eye behind and saw no sign of her Unicorn. She
had hopelessly lost the path by now. Though the voice was strange, at least it
was a thing to follow.
Finally she found the musician, the source of such sweet
music. She gasped when she spotted the lower half of a goat and small horns
upon the crown of his head.
“Lost your way, Princess?” he asked, his voice nearly too
soft for a man.
“I am afraid so, stranger. I have lost my guide, you see.
And wandered from the path. I could find my way back if only the forest were
not dark as night.”
“Yes, I saw a company of sprites take to the woods earlier.
They enjoy confusing travelers, my lady. But never fear. You are safe here.”
She giggled and kept her distance. “You are a faun? A satyr?
I know better than to trust you.”
“You are friends with a Unicorn. I know better than to
overstep boundaries.” His smile seemed sly. He had hair nearly as dark as her
own tresses. He owned a dark complexion like that of traveling peoples Amy had
spotted in the village. He slipped off the rock where he had been lounging. Now
he was nearer, examining her in a way that reminded her of a goat. She half
expected him to sniff her. She tried not to laugh at his big floppy ears but
they were charming.
“So, you know me? I do not recall ever meeting you,” she
said.
“Yes, you are somewhat famous. A maiden who ensnared a
unicorn. Lucky girl…” he purred.
“Oh, that? I…” she hung her head “did not mean to get him
caught all those years ago. My father did not tell me it was an ambush.”
The faun’s finger rested on her lips. A wave of warmth
flowed through her. A man had never touched her so before.
“Hush. Accidents are boring. Do not dwell on losing the path
or being used as bait. How sad is life with no willful mistakes…”
She did not recoil, as her mind told her to. Instead she
leaned in, curious and wishing to hear more of this philosophy. The faun’s ears
folded back, his fingers resting under her chin.
“Wh-what?” she laughed dumbly.
“I mean that it is better to own one’s mistakes than it is
to be the prop in another’s…”
This was new. Amy had never heard such thinking before. It
was dangerous but was she not allowed to hear frightful things from
time-to-time?
The faun removed her hood and the sun touched her on the
wintry day. “You have not run from me yet, Princess.”
“I wonder if you will teach me your instrument…” she replied
softly, gesturing to the flutes.
“It is an instrument of rustics, dearheart…”
“I know. But it makes such sweet music….”
3
Puck found the Princess to be a quick learner with dexterous
fingers. She also had a good ear for tone. As the lesson progressed, she came
to sit closer to him. At last their faces were inches apart. She was lovely,
with skin white as the snow in the field and hair dark as night. Her large eyes
were inquiring and receptive. Puck could hardly help himself. Amy closed her
eyes and parted her lips. But just as the faun went to steal a kiss, an angry
Unicorn tore out of the forest.
“Get thee back!” he hollered.
Puck dropped the flute and recoiled. He was not privy to
being impaled.
“Be suave, creature!” Puck exclaimed. “There is no need for
all that.”
“Unicorn!” Amy interjected. “Lower that. He was only
teaching me music.”
“An ulterior motive, to be sure. Keep your distance from
that thing, Amy.”
“Thing?” Puck cocked his head and hopped back onto the rock.
In a spry gesture, he scuffed the older creature. “I am not the thing charging at an innocent little
fae. I have done nothing wrong.”
“Yet,” the Unicorn hissed. “And innocent? That is a laugh.”
“Unicorn, please calm down,” Amy begged.
Puck batted his eyes to mock the enraged beast.
“I think I shall take leave so long as your nanny goat is in
such a foal mood,” Puck replied.
“Those puns do not add up,” the Unicorn mumbled. “Goats?
Foals?”
Puck kicked up the string of his flutes and caught the
instrument in the air. “My lady,” he bowed to Amy before leaving the duo.
What an ornery Unicorn that was!
4
Now Amy was quite cross with her Unicorn.
“Why must you be so cantankerous to all male creatures?” she
asked.
They were on the path by now and silence was uncomfortable.
“Not all. Only those who would ensnare you,” he corrected.
“I was not ensnared.
I am no longer a child, I do possess some common judgment.”
“Then what did I just see?”
“A music lesson.”
“Fauns are notorious tricksters, Amy. Especially that one.
That is Robin Goodfellow, an illusionist and seducer. He is a fae, and fae are
not what they seem.”
“But, Unicorn, I was in no danger. He knew about you and—“
“I tell you, Amy. This world is littered by traps. You must
not trust all just because they are nice. Niceness is not a sign of
trustworthiness. You--“
Timed to near-perfection, the ground beneath the Princess’
feet gave way. A shriek sounded out and she disappeared into the Earth. The
Unicorn jumped around, but too late to stop her fall.
“Amy! Are you hurt?”
“Ouch…” her little voice groaned from below. The hurt
radiated from the arm she had fallen on. But what troubled her most was how
high above her the Unicorn’s face hovered. “My arm…it hurts…”
“Remain calm, Princess. We shall find a way to lift you
out.”
As she looked about the hunter’s trap, she saddened to see
how steep, how cruel and how barren it was. Her basket had taken the fall with
her. She foraged through it for items. She had packed supplies for the woodsman
friend she was headed to visit. All he owned were tattered garments, so she had
thought to bring him fresh linen. Though it hurt her right hand to use the fingers,
she began to tie a tight rope with it. Years of sewing and crafts had taught
her to create good knots. It was also not the first time she created a
makeshift rope from sheets.
“I’m making a rope! Would you be able to pull it?”
“I shall try!”
With a deep breath she went to it, hoping to beat the
darkness of the night.
Just as dusk arrived the top of the rope flew out of the
hole and the Unicorn grabbed it.
“Tie it about yourself,” he instructed her.
She obeyed, tying it about her small waist. She was only a
young thing, a girl who had just bloomed into a maiden, so there was not much
to her. She held a strong hope that the Unicorn would be able to pull her out. He
would have to use his teeth, for he had no hands to pull or tie around. Not
surprisingly, the small and mighty creature failed for this reason. He was a
beast of precision and endurance, nimble but not built with the human advantage
of fingers. Nor were his jaws and teeth made for hauling.
“I must fetch the castle guards, Amy,” he told her.
“No! Please! I will be punished mercilessly, Unicorn! My
father thinks I am sewing to-day!”
The Unicorn sighed. Amy’s father was a mortal of two
natures. One loved and cherished his daughter and the other was unreasonably
cruel.
“I shall return directly, Princess. Scream if you shall need
me before then.”
As she heard the galloping, true terror seized her. She was
alone and trapped.
5
Puck had finally found and procured another peaceful area to
enjoy his day off of Fairy Court duties. He was attempting to tune a new
handmade ocarina when none other than the grumpy Unicorn called “Gelding”
arrived. With a huff, Puck spoke “What is the matter now? Was my out-of-tune
instrument playing a crime against virtue?”
“You dullard. I need your help. I need someone with hands,”
the Unicorn replied.
“Nooo thank you,
kindly. I am done with four-legged beasts.”
The Unicorn made an expression, the version of an eye-roll
among beasts.
“Rid your mind of buggery for one moment. Amy has fallen into a hunter’s trap. We need your help
or else I will have to tell her father’s men where she is and she shall be
punished harshly. Have sympathy on her, not me.”
Puck’s ears had lifted in alarm. He stood without further
inquiry. “Of course. Tell me where and I shall help as I can.”
He followed the creature into the shadow-riddled forest. The
said hole gaped near a distinctly crooked tree. A sure choice of a hunter. Puck
found a carving in it as well.
“You did not see the marking?” he asked the Unicorn.
“She and I were speaking, too absorbed in conversation to
see it,” the Unicorn confessed.
When Puck peeked into the hole he saw the dirtied Princess
looking up at him. “One moment, love. We shall figure something out.”
The fae circled the hole and tried the rope. He gestured for
the Unicorn to hold still and tied it to him bridle-style. He then led the
beast to a tree.
“Pull around the tree. It will help. But move slowly. We
must be gentle on the knots.”
“And then give it time to come undone?” the Unicorn did not
hide his skepticism for the plan.
“Should it come undone, then we will simply try again,” Puck
replied. “I can conjure light, even if it should take all night. No need to be
a Negative Nathaniel, Unicorn.”
The Princess’ frustration was shrieked finally. “Won’t
somebody help me! Unicorn, you are
right! Traps are everywhere. You are wise but will you please, please, please
stop obsessing over it! Sometimes I feel like you don’t even love me for who I
am, but what I am. A virgin…” her voice grew teary.
The Unicorn hung his head.
“Alright, Goodfellow. Let us try your plan,” he told the
faun.
“Princess,” Puck called down to her“Try to walk up the wall
as you elevate. It will help us.”
Puck smacked the Unicorn’s rump and grinned. “Heave!”
The beast rolled his eyes and began to pull as instructed
while Puck aided by pulling the rope from the mouth of the hole. It took some patience, most of all on Amy’s
part. The two males were startlingly strong for their delicate builds. The
Unicorn was no bigger than a small male deer and Puck was rather thin,
certainly not on the muscular side. Amy
was a slight thing, fragile as she looked and this also aided them.
At last Puck wrapped and arm around her and pulled her to
the forest floor. She held to him for support, her heart pounding, tears
falling with relief.
6
Amy became grateful for the medicine Puck gave her once she
was out of the hole. It stopped the arm from aching so much and casts the
experience in an oddly comical light.
“It isn’t called a satiric mix for nothing,” he had
commented when she began to giggle.
As she rode the Unicorn’s back home she was giggling madly.
“Do you think I shall need a cast for the arm?” she laughed.
“It feels like a bone broke! Crunch! Heheheheheh! What am I going to tell
Father? Maybe that I fell down the stairs? Pfffttt! Like anyone would believe
that! Puck said you need to stop saying platitudes, Unicorn. Whenever you do
things like this happen to prove your point!” she cackled into the sunset as
the disgruntled Unicorn groaned “Goodfellow…grrrrrah.”
