Chapter #5Preparing to depart by: Yote   It was a fine, frosty morning in the dead of winter and Ivar stood in the courtyard, eager to depart. A light snow had fallen during the night, which would make the stags all the easier to track. Not to mention he loved the sight of the sprays of crimson against the sheets of white. Why, he would probably be able to follow them just on the clouds of steam from their mouths, he thought, as his breath hung about him in the cold air.
Dangling from around his fingers were four horse shoes. "The day is young and I wish to depart! Where is my horse? She is late!" Ivar growled aloud to himself. "A horse! A horse, my kingdom for- ah, here we are!"
The captain of the guard pushed open the gate of the courtyard - behind him trudged several dozen men, some in guard uniform, others still wearing pajamas and grumbling as though recently kicked from their bunks. With a harsh bark, the captain ordered them to stand in a line, which they did, sluggishly.
As he stepped up to the king, a young man followed him, staggering a little as though inebriated.
"Apologies for the delay, sire. Your, ah, horse was having a late one night. She's a little worse for wear."
Ivar clucked his tongue, his eyes flashing angrily at the younger guardsman. "Was she now? Drinking a little too deeply from the trough, was she?! This displeases me!" He approached the guard, stretching his eyelids to examine the bloodshot eyes. He could smell the ale on the boy's breath. "Just because my horse is drunk does not mean she shall avoid the crop! In fact I will see fit to whip your flanks all the harder for it!" He turned to the guard captain. "And where is Epona's other half?"
"Ah... I do not know, my lord. I could not find her. It is possible she was also out drinking last night. However, any of these others cadets will surely suffice. I have assembled the hardiest and fastest."
"I will be the judge of whether they will suffice or not," Ivar said quietly before indicating to the captain to strip the men. Somewhat confused but nonetheless awed in the presence of their king, the men quickly doffed their armour, civvies or pajamas.
"About face!" Ivar barked. The men spun on their heels, some a little drunkenly.
Ivar paced up and down the row of men, examining them, as their naked bodies shivered and steamed in the cold. Occasionally he would stop to grip the calves of one, or the thighs of another, or to squeeze the buttocks of a particularly fine specimen.
"Excellent musculature on this one!" he declared aloud eventually, as both of his hands squeezed the iron-hard buttocks of guardsman #32. "Wonderfully long legs! Healthy skin tone! She's a beauty alright! She'll make a fine addition to my stable."
Stepping away, Ivar set the horseshoes on the cobblestones. Epona #1 had done this before and knew exactly what to do. He stepped forward quickly to stand with his bare feet on the front horseshoes.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Ivar barked at the one he had just selected, pointing at the read horseshoes. Confused, the man stepped into them. "Grab her waist, girl!" the king bellowed impatiently.
The young man at the rear nervously reached forward and gripped the waist of the man in front. Immediately the shoes began to glow brightly. The young man nearly jumped out of his skin but, alas, he was unable to jump out of the horseshoes, which now appeared to be glued to his feet. Furthermore, his hands were glued to the man in front. He began to tug at his fingers, but they had begun to fuse with the skin below. The flesh of his hands began to liquify and pour into the other man's back.
"Epona certainly sounds spirited today, sire," the captain of the guard ventured nervously, as the screams of the man at the back filled the courtyard. Ivar shot him a sharp look. The man's arms had now fused almost entirely with the back of the other man, dragging his face ever closer. His screams were cut short as his head turned to fleshy goo, and fused with the spine in front.
Thick, red hair was sprouting all along the length of this fused entity, while the human musculature swelled into that of a horse. As the spell went on, they resembled less and less two men, and more and more a single horse, a statuesque mare of noble proportions. The front man's skull cracked loudly as his face was pulled into the long snout, a huge horsey tongue spilling out of the mouth before it had a chance to resize.
It had been an excellent solution to the problem of training the King's horses, who he tended to grow bored of after a few uses. Instead of training the horses, they could simply make them out of the excess guardsman sitting around the castle. Ivar had requested Janus to handle it, and the stable was now fully stocked with all manner of enchanted horse-shoes, saddles, bits, and skinsuits.
Finally Epona was complete. She staggered a little, her hooves clopping on the cobbles. Her rear half didn't quite seem to be playing ball, moving out of synch with her front as though trying to pull herself away, her tail swishing in agitation. It wasn't unusual for the rear to take a while to adapt - the loss of sight meant they have to soon learn to surrender control to the front half. It was nothing that a few sharp strikes from a crop wouldn't sort out.
The stableboys rushed forward with saddle and bridle, and began to make her ready. Ivar...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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