The Legend of the Seventh Wall

LONG AGO, LONG before there was a castle on Castle Rock or merchants in Merchant City, Bohemund Iron-Beard ruled his landholdings from the Fortress of Eagles: a stronghold stern and forbidding as Iron-Beard himself. Powerful though he was, he lived each day gnawed by fear. He had come to believe that enemies from the Dustlands meant to attack him at any moment. And so he built wall after wall, tearing down each in turn to raise a stronger one. Six times had he done this. The seventh wall stood higher and more massive than the others. For all that, his fear grew only sharper.

One day, he summoned his daughter Alinor to his chambers, telling her that he had found a way at last to keep his realm forever safe.

"Yet another wall?" replied Alinor. "Father, why do you waste time and treasure to no purpose?"

"You reproach me?" burst out Iron-Beard. "How dare you, barely grown to womanhood, how dare you question my will?"

"I question why you fear the Dustland folk," Alinor gently said. "They are half-starved wanderers tending their few sheep and goats. They scarcely keep themselves and their animals alive. They have no quarrel with you, nor you with them. This is truth. The rest is folly. A daughter's duty is to speak reason to her father."

"A daughter's duty is obedience," snapped Iron-Beard. "I tell you they are warrior hordes. They bide their time, waiting to set upon me, to outnumber me, and overrun my walls. So I seek alliance with Lord Rainwulf Hard-Fist--"

"Call him no lord," Alinor broke in. "Rather call him brute and brigand. It is well known that he rules his southern lands with cruelty and ruthlessness. Father, I beg you: Have no dealings with him. A heartless butcher--"

"The bigger the butcher, the better the ally," Iron-Beard said. "We have already spoken secretly together. It is decided. He and his war band will join forces with me. Now I will have strength to withstand whatever threat may come."

"If he is so powerful in his own right," said Alinor, "what profit does he gain from joining you?"

"Simple," said Iron-Beard. "I have offered him a prize he gladly accepts."

"You have nearly beggared yourself raising your seventh wall," Alinor said. "What prize have you left?"

"You," declared Iron-Beard. "Your hand in marriage to him."

Although his words tore at her heart, Alinor stiffened and looked him boldly in the face. "How can you ask me to wed a man I do not love, let alone one I despise?"

"I do not ask," Iron-Beard flung back. "I command."

"If my mother lived, she would forbid such a marriage," Alinor said. "I tell you now by my own choice: No. Never. I cannot do this."

Iron-Beard in wrath sprang from his chair. "Lady, you can," he said between clenched teeth. "You must. You will. I myself shall speak the words that bestow you upon him. And, furthermore, his outriders have brought news. He and his warriors will be here by nightfall. Tomorrow morning you will be wed.

"Go to your apartments," Iron-Beard ordered. "Gather your maids and women-in-waiting. Put aside this riding garb you wear. Be robed and ready for your bridal day."

Alinor was about to answer him but thought better of it and pressed her lips tight shut. She turned on her heel and strode from the chamber.

What she did not tell Iron-Beard was that her heart was already given, her love already pledged to Peredur, the young horse trainer. They had loved each other since childhood. It was Peredur who taught her to ride; he would, as well, have shared his secret knowledge of the ways of horses and how to speak to them as if from soul to soul. But he quickly understood that Alinor had a gift as great as his own. He'd laughed lightly and touched his fingertips to her cheek, telling her there was no need of teaching her what she already knew by instinct.

Indeed, on the very day Alinor's mother died, a gray foal had been born. Alinor took the young filly to her heart, for the little horse seemed able to console her and lighten her grief. Until she could choose another name, Alinor called her simply "Little Mare." She continued to do so, for even when full grown, the mare was smaller than the other steeds.

But Alinor had only to whisper such bidding as "Little Mare, Little Mare, come to me …" or "Little Mare, Little Mare, carry me swiftly..." Whatever Alinor asked, Little Mare would do willingly. Peredur, likewise devoted, loved the gray mare as dearly as did Alinor.

And so Alinor did not go to her apartments. Instead, she ran to the stable yard. When Peredur saw her distress, he took her in his arms, asking to know the cause. As she told him her father's command, Peredur's eyes blazed.

"There can be no such wedding," he cried out. "I will challenge this Hard-Fist, hand to hand, sword against sword. Then let your father see at last that you and I are true lovers; and I, no rough warlord, am worthy of his daughter."

"You must not," replied Alinor. "Rainwulf will scorn your challenge. His men will cut you down and kill you where you stand.

"I see another way," she added. "Before tomorrow's daybreak, saddle and bridle Little Mare. Wait for me here. When the moment is right, I will come to you. We go from the fortress by the rear gate; the guards dare not question the daughter of their lord.

"Little Mare shall bear us across the Moorland Marches to the sea. The fisher-folk will give us refuge. Then we take ship, sail to another land, and there live happily."

Peredur saw the wisdom of her plan. He promised without fail to follow it, and they took loving leave of each other. Alinor hurried to her chambers. Knowing this would reach her father's ears, she made a great show of calling her women-in-waiting, telling them to bring out her finest gowns and jewelry. When they had emptied her closets, she said:

"I must carefully choose what suits my wedding day. Leave me now. In the morning, come dress me in my finery."

But Alinor chose none of the gowns. She kept her riding garb and, in the leather pouch at her belt, put a handful of her jewels to sell if need be. Then she waited, sure all would happen as she expected.

A little after nightfall, she heard the clatter of hoofs in the courtyard below and the shouts of men-at-arms. From her high casement, she saw flaming torches and c servants hastening back and forth. Rainwulf Hard-Fist and his war band had reached the fortress.

Soon, coarse laughter rose from the Great Hall. Her father, as hospitality obliged, had welcomed Hard-Fist and his warriors with meat and drink. The feasting would go on throughout the night.

Satisfied her plan was shaping well, she drowsed a little while to save her strength When she opened her eyes again, the Great Hall was silent, the stupefied revelers fast asleep.

It was nearly dawn. Peredur and Little Mare awaited her. Meaning to steal out unnoticed and make her way to the stable yard, Alinor hurried to the door.

She tried to lift the latch. It did not move. The door was bolted from outside.

Her heart sank. Iron-Beard, mistrusting her feigned obedience, had sent guards to lock her in. She heaved with all her might at the iron handle, beat her fists against the oaken panels. To no avail. She was a prisoner in her own chambers.

She gave up her useless efforts. Turning away she cast about for some escape. There was none. Her apartments were too high for her to jump to the courtyard. The stone tower had no handholds for her to climb down. She tried to calm herself and think clearly, but worse terror filled her. Did her father suspect Peredur as well? Had he sent men-at-arms to seize him? Had he been already slain?

The sun had risen; it was full daylight. Yet she had found no means to free herself. The door swung open. A company of guards burst in and circled her. Alinor, stifling her fears, commanded them to stand away. They replied her father had so ordered. She offered jewels from her pouch, but they answered that no handful of gems was worth their heads if they disobeyed. At sword point, they forced her from the chamber and down the staircase to the Great Hall.

There, the festive torches had burnt out. Leftovers of the night's carouse were strewn across the floor. The warriors still slumped in their seats. The guards brought Alinor to the banquet board where her father and Rainwulf Hard-Fist had begun to stir.

"Lady, do you come to your wedding dressed like a stable servant?" Hard-Fist scowled and squinted at her through bloodshot eyes. "Discourtesy! It is not fitting--"

"Nor is it fitting for a maiden to marry against her will," Alinor flung back. "And so I do not."

"Tart tongue? Impudent?" Hard-Fist gave a grating laugh. "A wench of spirit.

The more pleasure for me to tame it."

He clapped a hand on Iron-Beard's shoulder. "Up with you. She makes me impatient to have her as my bride. Be quick about it. Say the wedding words as law and custom demand. And you, Lady," he added, "you must, for all to hear, speak the vows that bind you to me."

"I speak only one vow," returned Alinor, her glance unwavering. "Never will I be wife to you."

"Think you so? Lady, you will learn to heel, as I train my dogs to do."

Rainwulf's hand went to the riding whip at his belt. Before he had half risen, his jaw dropped and he stumbled back. The revelers stared, dumbstruck.

Little Mare, Peredur astride, plunged into the Great Hall. At full gallop, her hoofs shot out sparks and rang over the flagstones as she sped straight to Alinor. Servants and attendants threw themselves terrified from her path. The bewildered men-at-arms fumbled for their weapons. The gray mare reared and lashed her forelegs at any who came near.

Alinor, with a joyous cry, sprang to Little Mare and swung into the saddle. Peredur clasped arms about her waist. The gray mare wheeled. Nostrils flaring, eyes alight, she charged unhindered through the confusion of the hall.

Roaring curses, commanding his warriors to pursue his prize, Rainwulf turned his wrath on Iron-Beard:

"Am I to be shamed by such defiance? Stop her. Fetch her back or you and I are sworn enemies. A wedding feast? You'll eat my sword for this humiliation. I lose my bride? You lose your life."

Little Mare, by then, had reached the courtyard. Now their peril was greater as Iron-Beard's men poured from the hall and Rainwulf's war band joined them. Peredur sought the rear gate, but guards blocked the way.

Alinor leaned forward and whispered urgently, "Little Mare, Little Mare, take us from here."

The gray mare whinnied and tossed her head. Swift and straight, she plunged toward the seventh wall.

All in the courtyard gasped as if with a single breath. Wide-eyed, the men-at-arms dropped their weapons; archers left their bows undrawn. They watched, rooted to the spot, as Little Mare, mane and tail flying, soared aloft. In one long leap, she sprang over the wall.

The two lovers clung to her. Without breaking stride, Little Mare sped across the harsh ground. Over stone, over shale, over merciless wasteland, her pace never slackened. All day she galloped, and all night. Outdistanced, the riders who pursued her gave up and, one by one, turned back.

Next morning, under a blazing sun, Alinor and Peredur unsaddled Little Mare and went on foot beside her. There was no sign of any living creature. They pressed on, hoping to find refuge among the Dustland wanderers. Sleepless by night, scorched by day, driven by thirst, they sought the smallest rivulet. With not so much as a drop of water, Alinor knew they would all surely die. She put an arm around the weary mare's neck.

"Dear companion, your strength is not enough to share," she murmured. "Little Mare, Little Mare, leave us. Go to save yourself."

For the first time, Little Mare disobeyed Alinor's words. She took a few paces, then halted. She bowed her head and pawed at the ground. Where she trod gushed a spring of clear water. It grew and spread into a shimmering pool.

The same instant, blades of grass sprang up. Plants uncurled their hidden tendrils. Within that very day, as if awaiting this moment, fruit trees rose and flowers blossomed.

At the Fortress of Eagles, Little Mare's leap had dislodged a single pebble. From that, stone by stone, the seventh wall crumbled and fell. Iron-Beard and Hard-Fist would lose their lives in battle. The fortress remained only an empty shell, and thornbushes overgrew the ruins.

But, where the spring had gushed, shepherds and their flocks, birds, and animals soon came to dwell. There, too, Alinor, Peredur, and Little Mare lived in peace and beauty the rest of their days.

By: Alexander, Lloyd, Cricket, Sep2006

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