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Part One - Disturbing News

Gobwern, Guardian of the North, moved a little closer to the flames. He was seated next to a crackling log fire in the great hall of the old decaying castle. The heat was not enough and he drew his great cloak up and around his shoulders to keep warm.

The old guardian sent out a mental thought. A wand drifted from the sleeve of his gown, bobbed up and down a little, then cast out a pencil thin beam of blue light. A blue haze surrounded three logs resting on top of a great pile of wood stacked neatly beside the open hearth. The three logs drifted slowly across to the wrought-iron fire basket, hovered above the blaze for a second or two, then fell into an area of glowing embers. Sparks flew everywhere and bright new flames ignited immediately. The wand then, as if in triumph, did a double circle through the air before disappearing once more up the sleeve of the old guardian.

Gobwern held his hands to the rekindled fire, gathered in the heat, then rubbed them vigorously together. This day was proving to be remarkably cold. Even sat next to a blazing log fire the old guardian’s breath could be seen blowing out plumes of icy grey mist every time he exhaled.

Winter had arrived with a vengeance outside the old decaying castle. The snows of the north had returned and a blizzard now raged about the ramparts. The howling of the wind could be heard blowing through the rafters and swirling about in the courtyard outside. This was the deep mid-winter and these were desperate times.

The old guardian placed his hands to his temples and sent out a mind-probe to the remotest corner of the land. For some time now he had remained deeply troubled. There were signs that his enemy were gathering over on the far side of the ice bridge that linked the two continents of this tiny and insignificant little world. By concentrating hard Gobwern could sense the presence of his enemy. They were definitely there now. They had arrived at the far side of the ice bridge and were setting up camp and building fires. He counted their numbers. There were twelve in all. He probed their minds and could sense nothing but their misery, for the blizzard that now stormed about the old castle also raged far and wide, and nowhere was safe from the ravages of the bitter freezing conditions that swirled about the vast barren landscape that was the frozen north.

Gobwern broke the mind-probe then summonsed up a mind-link with the Great Lord Keeper of the Land.

"What is it my servant?" asked the Great Lord Keeper almost the instant the thought was issued.

"My lord, I sense fresh activity to the north. Our enemy may be preparing for another attack," replied Gobwern.

"Are they great in number?" asked the Keeper of the Land.

"The numbers are few my lord. I count nothing more than a dozen of them setting up camp," answered the old guardian.

"My servant, there is general activity all around. It could be a scouting party, or perhaps even a decoy. But with spring approaching, if they are to cross the ice bridge in great hoards then they would have to do it whilst the ice is thick and can withstand the passing of heavy armoury," surmised the Lord Keeper.

"Should I venture north and investigate?" asked Gobwern.

"I think that is best my servant. We must be prepared for every eventuality," replied the Great Lord Keeper.

And with that the mind-link snapped. The Great Lord keeper of the land was a very busy man and had no time to spare on niceties. He had to summons his ministers immediately, for he was also receiving reports of a vast armada amassing in the western ocean.

Gobwern however understood the curtness of his lord and master. The old guardian recognised that he was just a small cog in the vast machinery that had been set up to defend this land. The Great Lord Keeper had given him his instructions. He was to head north to the point where the two continents almost touched, and to the frozen stretch of water that spanned the short distance between the only two land masses of this tiny planet. For it was at this point the enemy were gathering, possibly in the hope of gaining a foothold on the second continent.

The old guardian, deep in thought, ran his fingers through his long grey beard. These were disturbing times and the Great Lord Keeper had been right. For his enemy to cross the ice bridge now whilst it was still safe to do so, and then to amass an army in the northern wastelands, would hold devastating consequences for the land. These reviled frog-like creatures from the second continent must not be allowed to traverse the bridge of ice. The thought was abhorrent and totally unthinkable, and something that could never be allowed to happen.

Gobwern rose from his chair alongside the crackling log fire. He had a long journey to undertake. The ice bridge lay some five hundred kilometres to the north of the castle. He needed to prepare several days food for himself, load up his sled, then harness his ponygirl before he could be on his way.

Midday had arrived before the old guardian was ready to depart the castle. He led his ponygirl steed from out of the refuge of the old decaying granite castle and looked about him. The raging blizzard remained and showed little sign of abating. Driving snow still swirled about in the air, and a bitter, freezing cold wind remained howling about the turrets and ramparts of the old grey castle.

The old guardian’s ponygirl whinnied as her naked body met with the freezing conditions outside of the castle walls, and she scraped the surface of the freshly fallen snow with one foot. However the cold and bitter conditions that raged about the old castle were of little concern to the ponygirl. She was just delighted to be free of the confines of her small stable, and the whinny was one of joy and not of misery.

Gobwern’s ponygirl could almost be said to be human. At least in looks there was very little difference between her shapely body and the recognised female human form. She had large rounded breasts, pert little bottom and long shapely legs. The only visible difference being a short bushy mane that started at the forehead and ended at the nape of the neck. However there was one major difference that set this and all ponygirls apart from the human race, and that was the voice. All ponygirls lacked the gift of speech and nothing more than a neigh or whinny ever issued from their mouths.

Gobwern’s ponygirl was in harness and trailed a large double-seated sled behind her. The two seats were positioned one behind the other. However, only the front seat remained free. The rear seat had been loaded up with provisions, furs and logs for a fire. The journey to the ice bridge was far and would take two days to journey there even at a steady canter. Therefore provisions and supplies were needed to set up at least one overnight camp on the way, be ample enough to provide for a short stay, and also survive the return journey home.

Despite the sub-zero temperatures the ponygirl’s naked pink flesh remained exposed to the elements. But this was not unusual. Ponygirls of the northern wastelands were a hardy breed and could withstand far worse than the present conditions that swirled about this particular ponygirl’s naked and harnessed body.

Gobwern’s steed was adorned in bright red leather. On her head she wore a bridle of leather straps. These passed over her mane, formed a triangle about the nose, and retained a thick leather bit in her mouth. Two reins dropped down from each side of the bridle and passed backwards to the sled. These were loosely tied to a large metal ring at the front. Her arms were held together behind her back by two wide leather straps; pulled tight at both the wrists and elbows. About her waist she wore a wide leather belt. A further belt passed down between her legs and buckled on the wide waist belt at the back. On either side of the waist belt were hooks that attached themselves to the towing bars of the sled.

The ponygirl on this occasion had also been adorned with bells. Six had been hung about her waist belt, and a further three attached to the bridle. One bell having been attached to the forehead, the other two affixed to the temples. The presence of bells were not always the case, nor necessary, but in blinding conditions when it was difficult to see more than a metre in front of the sled, it helped to hear just where the ponygirl was heading. Also at night, when blackness blanketed the land, then the jangle of bells from a nearby tethered ponygirl always provided some comfort for the traveller.

The old guardian slammed the big castle doors shut then looked upwards towards the ramparts and towering turrets high above his head. Even the eternal bright-pink skies of this forgotten little world had turned to a dull pinkish-grey under the heavy snow clouds that blanketed the heavens for as far as the eye could see. He looked down to his feet. The freshly fallen snow was deep and reached as far as his knees. He felt grateful that he had a ponygirl to lead the way. The conditions on the ground were far too treacherous to make the long and hazardous journey on his own.

Gobwern stepped into the front seat of the sled, settled himself down on a thick fur-covered seat, then wrapped himself up in a great number of hides. Already ice was forming on his long grey beard and small icicles hung from his bushy eyebrows. Once comfortable he gave his whip a crack. His ponygirl set off, trotting effortlessly on top of the freshly laid surface and leaving a trail of powdered flakes blowing in her wake. The extra weight was a burden, but that was of little concern to the ponygirl. She was just glad to be free and of assistance to her master.

* * *

Part Two - Pony Training

Gobwern’s ponygirl, when in the wild had been called Myraha by her herd. The word translated as ‘hothead’ or ‘rebel’ and pronounced ‘mee-rah-har’ as if snorted from the mouth of a ponystallion. For that was exactly how it came to pass. These were the first, and probably the only words ever spoken to her by the dominant ponystallion of the herd, but from then on the name had stuck. But sadly that name was not to last for very long, for shortly afterwards she was to be taken from the herd in unfortunate circumstances.

This is exactly what happened.

Some two and a half years ago now, at the height of summer and whilst Myraha’s herd were grazing peacefully, a number of men arrived from the south with great nets which they cast through the air. In the stampede to get away one net fell about Myraha and she was brought to the ground. After that she was bound hand and foot and transported south to warmer climes. There she found herself subjected to an intense and vigorous training programme. She was taught to live in harness, pull sleds and carts behind her, and obey her master’s commands without question.

All this Myraha took in her stride. When captured she was a mere foal and knew very little of the outside world. It was therefore inevitable that she grew up to accept the wills of men. The only thing she ever disliked was the continuous strapping of her arms behind her back. This was always done with two wide leather straps, one attached to the wrists, the other wrapped about the arms at a point just above the elbows. It was explained to her by the other ponygirls at the stable that this was done to prevent them removing their harnesses and bridles from about their bodies. A good ponygirl was one that retained all her trappings without question, and so Myraha grew up to understand the ever-presence of the straps and accept this new way of life. For the first year the straps about her wrists and arms were never removed, and a new way of eating had to be learned. Now everything had to be done by mouth. Grass had to be pulled up by the roots, and lichen - a favourite of all ponygirls - had to be gnawed away from the rocks with her teeth.

The colour of the leather strappings, including the harnesses and bridles also bore great significance. It showed at a glance what stage of training each ponygirl had attained. Whilst still a novice all the leather trappings were in black, and they never went anywhere without them.

After a period of rigorous training, normally lasting two years, a ponygirl progressed to bright red leather. It was a sort of warning. It showed that they had at least done the minimum of two years training and were capable of serving man. However the red signalled danger, and a reason to remain cautious all the same.

After red came the green. A ponygirl wearing green was one that had proven herself, and one that could be trusted to serve her master without question, and not to run away. It was the level that all good ponygirls strove to achieve.

After green there was one more level, however this was rarely reached. The highest award and final accolade for all ponygirls was to wear white. This was the highest honour in the land and something attained by just a few of the elite. It was an award only ever bestowed upon one ponygirl each year, at the ceremony of the crowning of the Ponyqueen of the May, and even then, if there was no suitable candidate, then no honour was bestowed. So you see, a ponygirl that trotted about wearing all the white trappings of honour was one that had served her master well, and had helped significantly in the defence of the land. At best there were just a handful of these elite ponygirls to be found in all of the land.

It was said that Myraha had not been fully receptive to her training, and had constantly been an awkward pupil. But all the same her leather was changed from black to red at the end of her first two years of training. Exactly why she did not know, but she had learned from other ponygirls at the stables that these were desperate times and that a shortage of well educated ponygirls existed. However, she, like all the other ponygirls at the stables, knew this to be just an intermediate stage in their schooling, and none expected to be released until they wore the green harnesses of a fully trained ponygirl.

It therefore came as a bit of a surprise for Myraha to be lead away from the stables just a few days after graduating to red. She was told very little except that she had been allocated a master of her own, and that she was being taken to him. So, at the onset of the current winter, and ill-prepared for what was expected of her, Myraha found herself being transferred back to the wastelands of the north. This pleased her. At least now she was back in the place where she belonged.

She recalled the day she had been delivered to her current home: To an old castle perched high on a jagged outcrop of granite far to the frozen north. This place was much farther north than her own herd had ever ventured, and it was reported that the weather was always cold and bleak up here.

Myraha’s new master had been waiting at the doors of the castle when the party arrived, and he had greeted her with kindness. He was a good master and had nothing but love in his heart for her.

* * *

Part Three - The Circle of Stones

Myraha reflected on her past as she cantered steadily along, treading lightly over the frozen surface as if floating on clouds. Not once did her feet sink more than a centimetre or two into the freshly fallen snow. Yet she kept on running without falter, and despite the additional burden of trailing a large, heavy, two-man sled behind her, she kept on moving both gracefully and effortlessly.

Snow was still falling as the light began to fade. However the appalling weather that raged at the time of setting out had abated somewhat. The biting cold wind no longer howled and the snow flakes were now falling vertically rather than sweeping horizontally past and never seemingly touching the ground.

In the last throws of daylight Gobwern found a natural circle of standing stones and steered the ponygirl through a gap between two of the larger boulders. Within the walled ring of granite the wind was hardly discernible and an eerie silence blanketed the refuge. The old guardian dismounted and looked about him. One particular megalithic shaped stone sloped heavily inwards at an angle of some forty-five degrees. This sheltered the ground beneath and left a small area void of any snow. The old guardian decided to make his bed beneath this overhang. It looked the ideal shelter for the night.

Gobwern unhooked his ponygirl from the sled, removed the bridle from her head and undid the crotch strap that passed down between her legs. He did however keep in place the two leather straps that locked her elbows and wrists together behind her back, and also retained the wide harness belt about her waist. However, he did not tether her, he considered there to be no need of this. The old guardian understood his ponygirl well and knew that she would not run away. She was now free to graze before finally finding herself somewhere to settle down for the night. She would lick and gnaw the lichen from off the inner walls of the circle and then huddle up behind a rock somewhere. This may seem like an act of cruelty on the part of the old guardian, but it was certainly not the case. Ponygirls of the northern plains were a hardy breed and at their happiest when left to fend for themselves. It was in their nature.

The old guardian prepared his bed beneath the sloping slab of granite then built a fire alongside. Wrapped up inside several layers of furs and still wearing his great cloak beneath, he ate a meal of honey, nuts, preserved fruit and a few morsels of dried meat. For a drink he filled a goblet from a leather hide container then heated the contents with a pass of his wand above the surface. The herbal potion was necessary to survive a night out in the open. It would keep him warm and stop his blood from freezing. For already the temperatures were plummeting fast.

Having taken his fill, Gobwern took one final look about the circle of rocks. By the light of the fire, and through a curtain of large falling snowflakes, he could see his ponygirl scrapping lichen from off a rock with her teeth, then swallowing it down. The six bells fixed to the belt around the ponygirl’s waist jingled every time she moved. He saw that she was fine and in no trouble then settled down for the night. At first light he intended to be on his way again. Today his ponygirl had made good progress and almost half the distance of their journey had been covered. Hopefully, if this present rate of progress could be maintained, then he could find himself arriving at the northern limits of the land by mid-afternoon tomorrow.

As the night crept on the temperature dropped. Soon everywhere was frozen solid. Even the surface of freshly fallen snow glazed over and turned to ice. The wind also picked up again and began to rage noisily about the small circle of standing stones. The ponygirl, having taken her fill of lichen, settled herself down behind a large rock next to Gobwern’s overhang. She then scraped out a small hollow in the hard compacted snow, rolled herself up into a ball and fell fast asleep. She was only too aware that she needed to preserve all her strength for the following day. It was going to be a long and bitter cold night, and at the break of dawn she would be required to pull the sled once more. It was therefore a happy little ponygirl that went to sleep that night. Sound in the knowledge that tomorrow she would be asked to help her master once more by continuing on with this long and arduous journey to the farthest corner of the land.

All through the night the storm raged, but both the old guardian and the ponygirl slept soundly on. Both being comfortable in their own very differing beds; one snuggled down beneath a great pile of furs, the other curled up in a scraped out hollow in the snow.

About an hour before dawn Myraha opened her eyes and sat bolt upright, and to lean back against the rock she had made her shelter. She had been disturbed in her sleep by a noise from nearby. She looked around, but everywhere was in darkness. Only the faint glow from the embers of her master’s dying fire cast any light about the stone circle.

The ponygirl cocked her head to one side and listened hard. Then suddenly the noise that had disturbed her in her sleep came again. It was like the crumbling of stone and the shifting of gravel. She turned her gaze upwards, to the large overhanging slab of granite that sloped forward above the dying embers of the fire, and then the same noise occurred again. This time she was able to see the massive and precariously hanging rock shift and drop just a fraction. The power of the wind, plus the great weight of snow, and then combined with the heat from the fire which was partially thawing the ground beneath, had made the great sloping stone unstable and it was about to fall. Suddenly the ponygirl’s thoughts were for her master. He was fast asleep beneath the rock and was in danger of being crushed.

Immediately on recognising the perilous danger, the ponygirl rose to her feet and began to neigh incessantly. She also began to jangle the bells about her waist for all her worth.

The sound of loud neighing and the jingling of bells awakened Gobwern and he opened his eyes. He collected his thoughts and realised that the noise was coming from his ponygirl. He began to wonder just what it was that was spooking her.

From outside the shelter of the overhanging rock, Myraha added a whinny of thanks as she saw the great pile of furs move and her master’s face appear from beneath.

"What is it little ponygirl?" asked Gobwern from the comfort of his bed.

At the same time the old guardian threw out a mind-probe to scan the surrounding area. He could detect no danger immediately beyond the stone circle, so he scanned out a little further. Again he drew a blank. As far as he could foresee there was nothing living or a threat to either himself or his ponygirl in the near vicinity. They were the only two living beings within a ten kilometre circle, and beyond that he did not care to check.

Myraha, on hearing her master’s voice, took this as a signal to neigh and whinny even more loudly, and to shake her bells even more ferociously than before. She also stepped a little further away in the hope that her master would rise from his bed and come to comfort her.

The ruse seemed to work. The great pile of furs moved and got tossed to one side, then her master rose up from beneath, stepped out from the overhang and drew his great cloak about him. She neighed loudly and stepped away some more, for in the background she detected another slight movement in the rock. The megalithic stone was close to collapsing now, and through her sensitive feet she could detect the movement of the ground beneath. It was churning continuously now, slowly cracking and grinding away at the tenuous soil that held it upright.

Gobwern had a method of producing light. His wand appeared from somewhere inside his many layers of clothes, floated about in the air for a brief moment, then slapped hard into the palm of his hand. Then suddenly the tip of the wand burst into an eerie blue light which illuminated the whole of the stone circle. Walking over what was now hard and compacted ice, the old guardian approached his shying and cowering ponygirl. He took hold of her by the belt and drew her towards him. He then put one arm about her and began to lovingly stroke the side of her head and neck.

"What is it little ponygirl?" he asked again. "What’s spooked you? What can you hear?"

Then suddenly it happened. From just a short distance away there came a mighty crack that echoed about the small circle of standing stones. The old guardian turned his head just in time to see the overhanging rock collapse to the ground. The impact sending great particles of frozen ice and snow flying everywhere, including into the face of the old guardian.

Gobwern wiped away the snow and ice from his face and beard. Perhaps some of the sharper particles had drawn a little blood, but there was no serious damage. Then in the eerie blue light cast from the tip of his wand, he simply looked on in amazement. His bed had been crushed flat beneath a giant slab of granite. He turned to his ponygirl. She was still frightened and shying away from the crushing fall. He tried to settle her down.

"There, there, little ponygirl," he said as he stroked and patted her mane. "It’s all over now. The danger has passed."

As the ponygirl settled Gobwern began to reflect on what had happened. Was it just possible his ponygirl knew that the rock was about to fall? It looked that way; all the evidence indicated this to be the case; but all the same he doubted it. He concluded that it must have been the howling wind blowing between the rocks that spooked her. He could hear the ghostly whistle now, and it even made him feel uneasy.

However, he did remain thankful. If he had not been awakened by his ponygirl, then he would be crushed to death now, lying squashed and flattened beneath a great monolithic slab of granite.

"Little ponygirl, when we get back to the castle, I promise you a very special treat," he told her.

The little ponygirl looked up to her master and batted her big blue eyes. It was as if she knew every word her master was telling her.

* * *

Part Four - Top of the World

As dawn broke above the eastern horizon, Gobwern took stock. He accepted that most of his furs were lost. He had tried to lift the great slab of granite from off the ground, but it was far too heavy for him to move with just the aid of one small wand at his disposal. All the power was in the wood - a very special wood that only grew in one place in the land - and a wand was just not big enough to absorb all the mind-thought necessary to move such a great block of granite. To raise up a rock of this enormity, even just enough to drag out the furs from beneath, then he would need the power of a great staff. However, Gobwern had always spurned the honour of becoming a Staff-Wielder of the Land, considering the use of his wand sufficient for his humble needs. But alas, now, after this little incident, he was starting to have second thoughts. The old guardian shrugged his shoulders, realising that there was nothing he could do to rectify the situation right now, and he looked around to see what else was lost.

Next to the fallen rock lay his goblet. At least that had not been crushed. As far as he could tell just one other precious item lay beneath the slab of granite, and that was the animal skin which held his herbal potion. He felt a little relieved. It could well have been much worse. At least he had one more hide container full on his sled. However, his reserve hide was only half the size of the one lost beneath the slab of granite. He would now have to ration himself, but he concluded that he had ample enough to last at least another four nights out in the freezing cold. He counted the animal furs that remained on the sled. There were two, plus the one that covered the seat. He judged that these three, plus his great cloak would be enough to keep himself warm at night. He also had several logs left with which to build a fire.

After giving the matter much thought, the old guardian decided to carry on heading north. In these freezing conditions it was not a decision to be taken lightly, but a return to the castle for fresh supplies, then to set out north again would add two more days to the journey. This he could not afford. If his enemy were intending to cross the bridge of ice, then he would have to be there to defend it. At all costs they must not pass. For he was entrusted to prevent it. After all he was the long time Guardian of the North.

The snow had stopped falling and the worse of the wind had passed when Gobwern and his ponygirl set out at first light the following morning. The old guardian calculated that if this calmer weather remained then they should arrive at the most northern limits of the land just a little after midday when the sun was at its highest. As the ponygirl moved off he gave a crack of his whip in the air. A steady rate was needed all day and there could be no slacking.

As the sled continued northwards, pulled along at a steady canter by Gobwern’s little ponygirl, the old guardian cast out a mind-probe before him. His enemy remained over on the far side of the ice bridge, over on their own continent, and as long as they did so the land was safe. He could count the numbers properly now, there were just ten, not twelve, of these frog-like creatures altogether. They had built a camp and had fires going. It seemed that they were all content just to simply sit around these fires and keep warm. He made an attempt to read their minds, but man’s thoughts and those of the enemy were not attuned and he got very little feedback other than their abject misery and sheer abhorrence for being where they were.

A little after midday Gobwern pulled his ponygirl and sled to a halt at the very northern limit of the land. Just a mere one kilometre away, over on the other side of a deep ravine lay this little planet’s second continent. The old guardian stepped out from the sled and walked to the very edge of the ice-layered cliffs. He looked down. There was a one-hundred metre drop to the frozen sea below. The pack-ice, even in winter, was continuously shifting, and its surface was jagged and covered in great boulders of ice.

Gobwern raised up his head to look across to the land beyond the broken pack-ice. The steep cliffs over on the other side were clearly visible. They appeared to be made of glass and radiated a faint hue of blue from the ice wall that had built up around the granite interior. The old guardian’s focus turned to a point above the cliff tops just over one kilometre away across the void. He could see the smoke of their camp fires. At least now he could make out exactly where his enemy were located.

He cast out a mind-probe to encircle the enemy’s camp over on the other side of the great continental divide. He was surprised to find fourteen living souls there. Earlier that day, just after setting out from the circle of stones, he had only managed to count ten. He guessed that four more must have arrived whilst he journeyed north. But all the same he did think it strange that he had not detected their movement. There was one other puzzling thing that troubled the old guardian. Reflecting back on his first mind-probe cast from the castle he was certain that he had counted exactly a dozen. Could they be coming and going? And if so why? What were they plotting? And what were they up to? He decided to put his findings to the Great Lord Keeper of the Land.

The old guardian broke off the mind-probe and cast out a mind-link to the south, and into the Great Hall of the Keeper of the Land. It was time to report his position and to await further instructions.

"What is it my servant?" asked the Great Lord Keeper almost immediately the thought was sent.

"I have arrived my lord," returned Gobwern’s mental thought. "I am at the top of the world."

"And our enemy? Are they still there?" asked the Keeper of the Land.

"They are my lord," answered the old guardian. "There are fourteen in number and they camp on the cliff tops at the very edge of their own world."

"Do they look as if they are preparing to do anything my servant?" probed the Great Lord keeper.

"My lord, their numbers are constantly changing with comings and goings, yet once arrived they seem content just to sit around their fires," returned Gobwern’s mental thought.

"Then just stay and observe my servant. I have a meeting of my ministers shortly. There are reports of a great armada amassing in the western ocean. I will return if I have anymore news," said the Great Lord Keeper of the Land.

And with that the mind link snapped.

Gobwern turned to his ponygirl. She had done such a grand job in conveying him here, and in such good time too, that he considered a reward was due. He unhooked her from the sled and removed the bridle from off her head. However, he retained the straps that held her wrists and elbows together behind her back, and also kept the wide waist belt and crotch strap in place.

"Go and find yourself something to eat little ponygirl," he said, and he slapped her on the backside.

The ponygirl acted as if she understood. She neighed and nodded her head then trotted off in search of food. Hopefully there would be enough lichen growing somewhere close by. She sniffed the air. There was a strong scent of lichen wafting from a point some three hundred metres inland. She set her bearings and trotted off in that direction.

Gobwern listened to the ponygirl’s bells jangle away into the distance, then returned to the sled and sat himself down. He pulled the fur skins around him and settled himself down. He cast out a mind-probe once more across the deep divide, locked on to the campsite of freezing souls over on the other side of the chasm, and held it there. He was prepared for a long, long wait.

* * *

Part Five - Ponygirl Lost

As dusk began to fall, Gobwern looked around for his little ponygirl. She had been gone a long time and he could see no signs of her. He dropped the mind-probe that surrounded his enemy’s camp and redirected a fresh probe in search of his ponygirl. Suddenly he sat bolt upright. His ponygirl was nowhere to be found. He stretched out even further, to a point some ten kilometres inland, but could find no trace of any living being.

A very worried old guardian stepped from his sled and wrapped his great cloak about him. Treading through the deep snow, he plodded his way up the gentle slope to the point where he had last caught sight his ponygirl before disappearing over the brow of a hill. At least her tracks were still present in the snow and were easily followed. He wanted to call out to her, but it was impossible to raise his voice too high with his enemy just one kilometre away. He just did not know how far his voice would carry across the great continental divide. Whatever happened it was imperative that his presence on this side of the ravine be kept a secret from his enemy.

At the top of the slope the ground levelled out. From here, some two hundred metres further on, and a little to his left, Gobwern could just about make out a thin grey line of rock protruding upwards from the eternal white blanket of snow that covered the ground. He looked down to the deep snow about his feet. His ponygirl’s tracks, though light and not very deep, were still clearly visible and heading in that direction, so he set off in pursuit.

Gobwern reached the rock face and looked around. The wall was not very high, possibly two metres at its highest point, and it stretched from one end to the other no more than fifty metres. There was evidence in the snow that his ponygirl had moved all along the entire outcrop foraging for lichen. He scanned the rock face. What small amount of lichen that grew here was now gone, gnawed away by his ponygirl’s front teeth.

The old guardian realised that he was wasting valuable time. There were no more than ten to fifteen minutes of daylight left. Soon he had to start thinking of making a shelter for himself. He looked to the ground and the tracks left in the snow by his ponygirl. It appeared that after making the most of what this rock face offered, she had moved on; her tracks in the snow going off to the left. He set off in pursuit once more. After a while it became evident that his little ponygirl had turned to head back down the slope, and to move on down towards the rugged cliffs that formed the very northern edge of the land.

Very soon Gobwern found himself back on the cliff tops overlooking the one kilometre wide chasm that divided the two continents. He was probably no more than one hundred metres along the edge from where his sled now stood. A little further on there was a fold in the ground that raised up the cliffs some ten metres higher than the surrounding edge. The old guardian looked to the fold. His ponygirl’s footsteps followed the cliff’s edge up the gentle rise and disappeared over the other side.

Plodding knee deep through the snow, Gobwern followed his ponygirl’s tracks up and over the rise. At the summit he stopped and looked down. Over on the other side of the ridge the terrain folded down and then turned upwards once more, and leaving a small, ice filled valley between them. At the bottom of the fold his ponygirl’s tracks seemed to end abruptly. Quickly he followed the footsteps down the slope. The old guardian was expecting to find her buried deep in the snow, and hopefully rescue her if she remained alive.

As Gobwern approached the last few steps made by his ponygirl, he came to discover the true nature of her disappearance. Squashed between two sides of a deep cutting in the ground was the entrance to a cave. It was not very big, but large enough for his ponygirl to pass comfortably through, and just about wide enough and high enough for the old guardian to enter at a stoop. He dropped down into the gully and looked about him. From the footprints in the snow near to the entrance of the cave it was evident that his ponygirl had entered and not returned.

Gobwern moved to the cave entrance, ducked down his head, and at a stoop took several paces inside. The cave seemed to widen with every step. He straightened himself out, and now standing in what was virtual darkness, he raised up his wand above his head. Immediately the tip of the wand began to emit an eerie blue light. The old guardian looked about him, and his jaw dropped in wonder and in awe.

The snow underfoot might have ended a little way back, but the freezing conditions remained, and if anything it was even colder inside the cave than outside in the daylight. Everywhere Gobwern looked there was ice, nothing but thick, glistening blue ice. It spread across the floor, covered the walls, and clung to the roof in great ice sheets several metres thick. Immediately he realised that he was standing in an ice cavern of major proportions. Just a few paces in from the entrance, the walls opened out to form a mighty cavern. All around glowed and shimmered in a hazy blue light. There were great long stalactites of ice hanging from the ceiling, and equally as large stalagmites standing like giant pillars on the ground. In places the stalactites and stalagmites met to form gigantic thick columns of ice some thirty metres high and possibly two metres thick at the base. And the wind, it whistled and howled a ghostly call from every corner of this enormous cavern.

Gobwern cast a mind-probe into the cavern in search of his ponygirl, but could detect no sign of life. He looked down to the floor beneath his feet. It was a smooth flat surface of ice some three to four metres thick that stretched inside the cave as far as the eye could see. If his ponygirl had walked on this, then she had left no tracks, and it was impossible to tell which way she went. He cast out another probe from the mind, but everything just seemed to bounce back from the walls. He concentrated hard and tried to simply scan about the cavern, but every thought just seemed to echo back from the walls. It was all very weird and eerie, and unlike anything he had ever encountered before. It was if he was in a thought-proof chamber. A place where thought waves could neither enter nor escape.

Considering himself safe within these walls to raise his voice, Gobwern called: "Little ponygirl!… Are you in here?"

The old guardian cocked his head to one side and listened to his words bouncing about the icy walls of the cavern. As the resonance of his own voice faded into the distance there reverberated back a familiar sound. He raised a smile. Echoing back from some remote corner of this vast chamber he could hear the faint tinkling of bells.

* * *

Part Six - Oblivion

Gobwern skated and slid across the ice in search of his ponygirl. From time to time he skidded to a halt, and, whilst holding his glowing wand high in the air he cocked an ear and listened hard. On each occasion he shook his head in despair, then carried on deeper into the cavern. His ponygirl was still a good way off, the sound of jingling bells seemingly getting no closer.

Some five hundred metres into the cavern, Gobwern came to a long, sliding and skidding halt. He could progress no further even though the cave system and the high roof seemed to go on for an eternity. However, he now had a better understanding of this vast ice grotto. He was now aware that right from the outset he had been walking across the surface of a frozen lake, and now, here, at a point deep inside the cavern, that lake must have once, and probably many aeons ago, drained as a waterfall deep into the bowels of the planet. However it was not a vertical drop, but more of a gradual slide that twisted and turned its way down into eternal blackness and ultimate oblivion.

Gobwern cocked an ear once more. The wind whistled and howled savagely about him, and he could feel the icy blast drifting up from what appeared to be an extensive cave system far, far below. There was also something else, something much more important, and far more encouraging. For blowing on the wind there was the sound of tinkling bells.

The old guardian sighed deeply. His little ponygirl was down there somewhere, deep in the bowels of this planet, and most certainly trapped and unable to return. On further deliberation he concluded that she must have wandered this far in the dark, then slipped over the edge. After that she must have either got herself trapped or most likely hurt herself, for a sure footed ponygirl, under normal circumstances would be able to trot back up this slope, no matter how far and no matter how steep, and with very little difficulty. Scaling steep icy slopes was something they did everyday in the wild, and something that came quite naturally to them.

Gobwern pondered for a while at the very edge of the frozen waterfall, and all the time staring down into the darkness and oblivion beyond. His problem was, that without his little ponygirl he could never return to the sanctuary of his old castle. It was far too great a distance to walk alone. At a minimum, his journey home, in the best of weather, would take some ten to twelve days to complete, and he only had enough herbal potion to survive another four bitter freezing nights at the most. His only other option was to summons the Great Lord Keeper of the Land and ask for help. But even that, with a fresh team of ponygirls running in relay, it would take them more than four days to get here from the nearest outpost way to the south. He concluded that without his ponygirl to get him home, then he too was doomed, and therefore his only option was to descend the frozen cascade and save her.

The old guardian moved to the very edge of the frozen lake, hovered there for a moment or two, then sat down and pushed himself off. Slowly, and in a controlled descent made possible by the presence of the wand in his hand, Gobwern began to plunge the icy drop, gliding along on the frozen slide, and forever sinking into the inky blackness below.

Gobwern tried to measure the depth of his descent, but the aeons old frozen water course was neither straight nor simple to evaluate. It twisted, it turned, it levelled out, and sometimes dropped alarmingly. He guessed that after travelling for quite some while that he was probably below sea level by now, but still the descent went on. Forever downwards it went, until he thought the descent would never end, and that by chance he had discovered the fabled cavern that journeyed to very the centre of his little world.

Then suddenly, after one long, slow spiralling twist in the cavern’s walls, Gobwern arrived at the bottom of the frozen rapids. Quickly, using the levitating power of his wand, he pulled himself up to a halt some one hundred metres short of the finish. He found a flat ledge on which to stand and killed the hazy blue light that emitted from his wand; for the sight that greeted him was nothing at all like what he had expected. Down below, at the bottom of the frozen watercourse, there was light, this time a flickering yellow, and all emitting from a number of burning torches affixed to the walls. Also, the area itself was not empty, for he could see boxes of equipment stacked against the walls and many tools lying about on the floor.

Furthermore, just below the ledge on which Gobwern had hastily pulled to a halt, there was something else going on that alarmed him greatly. Somebody, or something, had started hacking steps into the ice. The process had evidently only just begun, but their intent was obvious. Someone was preparing to turn the long, twisting, icy cascade into a giant staircase that would eventually lead from the cave system below right up to the frozen lake above. Gingerly, and being most careful not to slip on the ice, Gobwern transferred himself from off the ledge to the highest and most recent step cut into the ice. He then began to descend the final one hundred metres of the drop on foot, and making good use the ice staircase conveniently made for him.

Gobwern halted his descent on the bottom step of the ice stairs, and by the light of the burning torches set against the walls, he looked about him. Apart from the presence of boxes and tools - there were large chests, pick-axes, spades and wheel barrows lying about - the scene was very similar to the one encountered above, but on a much smaller scale. The floor, walls and ceilings were all encased in a thick layer of ice, and great circular columns of stalactites and stalagmites existed in abundance. But this was most definitely a cave system now. The walls and roof suddenly drew close and a single cave, just slightly taller than a man moved off in a straight line some one-hundred metres further on from the bottom of the stairs.

The old guardian stepped down from the last ice stair and moved across to one of the more larger crates stacked against the cave wall to the right. Carefully he lifted the lid and peered inside. Immediately on seeing the contents he frowned his deep concern. The crate was full with explosive grenades. They were the sort his enemy used against his people. They were round, hide-skinned balls, packed full with high explosives, and all with a short fuse attached and ready for use. He made a rough count of the large crates. There were at least a dozen, maybe more.

Gobwern closed up the lid of the crate then returned to the centre of the cave. Here he cocked an ear and listened. He raised a small smiled as he heard the jingling of bells emanating from somewhere down the cave. He cast out a mind-probe, and because of the straightness of the cave he located her. Immediately on contact he breathed a sigh of relief. His little ponygirl was safe. She was alive and well, and not a great distance away. Quickly he set off down the cave in search of her.

It was not long before Gobwern found his little ponygirl. She had been tethered to a great stalagmite by a rope about her neck. None of her red leather straps had been taken away. She retained the wide leather belt about her waist and crotch strap between her legs. Also her arms were held firm behind her back by two red leather straps about the wrists and just above the elbows. She had obviously been captured by his enemy, and presumably not knowing exactly what to do with her, they had simply tied her up and left her here, probably awaiting further instructions. However, she knew what to do to signal help. She was running on the spot and shaking her hips furiously, and those six little bells about her waist were jangling away quite merrily.

On seeing her master approaching, the little ponygirl let out a whinny that reverberated and echoed about the ice cave. She was obviously so pleased to see him.

Gobwern stepped up to the ponygirl and set about removing the rope from tied about the stalagmite.

At the same time he told her in a soft and calming voice: "Well… well… my little ponygirl… whatever have you been up to… you got me very worried you know?"

The little ponygirl scrapped a foot across the ground and neighed back her thanks. She was so glad to be free once more and in the safe keeping of her master.

* * *

Part Seven - Deluge

With the rope still about his little ponygirl’s neck, Gobwern led her out of the cave and back to the foot of the ice stairs. He had a plan, but it needed a lot of hard work from his ponygirl if it was to be achieved, and he wondered if she was up to it. For a moment or two he stared at the crates of high explosives and pondered. His enemy had obviously discovered this subterranean system from somewhere over on their own continent. He concluded that this single passageway, at the foot of the watercourse, must therefore pass right under the frozen sea that divided the two lands. It also resolved something else that had been puzzling him for quite some time. It explained the reason for the changing numbers on the surface, since once underground it became impossible to detect their presence.

Gobwern turned to his little ponygirl and removed the rope from about her neck. In his deliberations he had concluded that he had no choice but to destroy the cave system whilst he still had the chance. What he wanted to do was move all the crates of explosives into the cave. He could levitate them using his wand, and transport them that way, but they were extremely heavy, and it would be a long and arduous job to transfer them all into the tunnel. Therefore, to do it fast and efficiently he needed his ponygirl’s help. Quickly he led her over to the boxes of explosives, tied one end of the rope to the nearest crate, then attached the other end to the wide leather belt that passed about her waist.

"Right pull, my little ponygirl," he told her as soon as he was done. "Pull the crate into the cave. Take it as far as the point where you were tethered."

Gobwern’s little ponygirl shook her head from side to side and snorted. She then began to drag the heavy load across the icy floor. Once the crate was moving she picked up the pace and trotted smoothly into the cave entrance, and with the old guardian following on in pursuit.

At the point where the ponygirl had been tethered, she stopped, shook her head and snorted once more. Quickly Gobwern removed the rope from around the crate.

"Come my little ponygirl, back to the entrance," the old guardian told her, "there are many more crates left. I want to block the passageway at this point, and then we will see some fireworks."

Gobwern and his ponygirl returned to the bottom of ice stairs. Once more he tied the rope about a crate, and once more she was asked to drag the high explosives into the cave. Moving quickly and efficiently, she did this on eleven more occasions. Trotting backwards and forwards, and transferring each crate effortlessly over the surface of frozen ice.

Once all crates had been moved, Gobwern used the power of his wand to levitate them into a stack which blocked the passageway completely. It was hard work and needed much concentration, but with his mind heavily focused one by the one the crates were moved. When he was done he led his ponygirl back to the foot of the ice stairs and looked back down the tunnel. Away in the distance he could see the wall of crates. The cave at this point was fairly straight, and if anything on a slightly downwards slope.

Gobwern turned to his little ponygirl.

"Come little ponygirl, let me ride on your back," he told her.

The ponygirl knew the instruction and turned her back towards her master. Her arms were still strapped behind her, but that did not matter. As long as her master managed to grip tight and hang on, then she could cope with the hindrance. Gobwern jumped up about the arms, took a firm hold with his legs about the waist, and hooked one arm about the neck. The ponygirl whinnied and steadied herself under the load, then began to run lightly on the spot.

"Right my little ponygirl," he told her once seated. "I’m going to unleash a thunderbolt back down the tunnel, and when I do, I want you to run like hell up those ice stairs. Then, when there are no more steps, just keep on running, do not stop for anything."

The ponygirl turned to face the ice stairs, and Gobwern, seated on her back, looked behind him and down the long tunnel. He realised that he was just in time, for he could detect the sound of voices - horrible croaking voices of his enemy - emanating from somewhere just beyond the ceiling high pile of crates.

Gobwern, with his one hand free pointed his wand down the cave, then began to concentrate hard. Slowly he could feel the power of his thought-waves building up inside of his wand. Then, when it was full, he unleashed a thunderbolt which left the very tip of the wand and rocketed down the tunnel. The old guardian did not bother to stop and watch the blue ball of light hurtle down the tunnel, for he was only too aware as to what damage the impact would do.

Quickly Gobwern called to his ponygirl. "Go… go… go… let’s ride the icy staircase."

Gobwern’s ponygirl needed no second telling. As soon as the first word of her master’s command was issued she was off, scaling the ice stairs as fast as she could run. To help her on her way now, Gobwern ignited the tip of his wand once more and held it high above her head, and that eerie blue glow returned to cast light on the steep rising passage ahead.

The ponygirl was nearing the last step when the force of the blast hit her, but it only helped to spur her on. She rode the blast and ran with the wind. Quickly she transferred to the ice sheet that was the ascent from now on, and kept on running. Up and up she went, twisting and turning with every bend in the frozen watercourse; galloping at full speed and heading in whichever direction the steep and laborious ascent took her.

Then something happened that Gobwern did not expect. From way back behind him, from somewhere deep down in the icy depths, there came the sound of rushing water. Unknown to the old guardian, the cave system below had only been a short distance beneath the very bottom of the sea. The surface of the sea may very well have been frozen to a great depth, but below that there was salt water, and it was this that now flooded into the caves below. The old guardian looked down into the murky depths behind him, and immediately recognised a fresh danger. The cavern was filling up fast, and if anything the gushing and gurgling wall of water was catching them up.

"Faster… faster," he called in an effort to spur his ponygirl on.

She took up the challenge, and if anything did speed herself up, but still the water level continued to chase them up the rise. The noise below was deafening now as the churning waters bubbled up to meet them. Gobwern realised that to be safe they needed to reach sea level before the fast rising waters overtook them. The trouble was he had no idea at what point that would be, or how much further away it was. But they had ascended a long way now, and their only salvation was for his ponygirl to keep on running in the hope that they climbed above the level of the ice pack before the rushing waters engulfed them completely.

"Faster… faster," the old guardian called once more as he felt the icy spray of the frothing waters hit the back of his head. The fast rising waters were nearly at the ponygirl’s feet now. Just a few more seconds and they would be engulfed.

Then it happened. Just when it looked like Gobwern and his ponygirl steed where about to get swamped, and with the waters lashing about their feet, the onrush ended abruptly. For a few seconds it sank back down the icy shaft, then came rushing back up again, only to gurgle and fizzle out at roughly the same spot. It then sunk and rose several more times until seemingly an equilibrium was reached, and from then on just bobbed about like an icy, bottomless pool being tossed about on the wind. However, most of this phenomenon went by unobserved. Gobwern’s ponygirl just kept on running away from the imminent danger. Her only concern was to save her master seated upon her back. From sea level to cliff top was about another one hundred metres, and she flew this effortlessly.

The sound of churning waters was just a distance gurgle as the ponygirl crested the rise and came to rest on the surface of the frozen lake above. Gobwern dismounted and returned to look down into the blackness. He could hear the waters still splashing about, but could not see its presence. He guessed that the surface would freeze over pretty quickly, and perhaps the whole cave system below given time; and then there would be silence, for that was the most noticeable change already. The cold, biting wind that once roared up from this subterranean passageway had ceased. The old guardian cocked an ear. Where once everywhere in this great and massive chamber echoed to the howl of the freezing wind, now there was silence. The air in the chamber was calm and still, with nothing moving, and the only thing to be heard was the faint lapping of waters some one hundred metres below his feet.

Gobwern jumped back on his ponygirl steed.

"Right, to the entrance my little ponygirl," he told her. "I must return to the surface and report immediately to the Great Lord Keeper of the Land. I think he’ll discover that the amassing armada out in the western ocean is merely a decoy, and that this was the true point from which our enemy were preparing to attack."

* * *

Part Eight - Reward

Two days after leaving the northern limits of the land, Gobwern and his little ponygirl returned safely to the old castle without further incident.

If anything the weather had improved, and the thick, dark foreboding snow clouds that once filled the air, no longer threatened. The wind had also dropped considerably making the long journey home at least a little more bearable. The improved weather, combined with the reduced weight on the sled had led to a quicker time being achieved. After one overnight stay, and a bright start the next day, the old guardian and his ponygirl arrived back at the old grey decaying castle by mid-morning.

On arrival in the courtyard, Gobwern unhooked his little ponygirl from the sled, but left all the bright red leather ponygirl tack about her body. He removed the bit from her mouth, but that was all. She was now free to trot about the courtyard, and as a treat he gave her a few sugar lumps then tossed her some hay. The old guardian then moved to the great hall and got his fire going again. He then waited for the heat to percolate about the rafters before summoning his ponygirl to him.

On opening the large doors that led to the courtyard, the old guardian called: "Come here little ponygirl. Come on in into the warm. I’ve got something for you."

Outside in the courtyard his ponygirl whinnied, nodded her head up and down, and scraped a foot along the ground. She then turned and came trotting to her master’s call.

Gobwern let her pass through into the great hall and shut the door behind her. Taking her by the bridle he then led her to the far end of the long table placed centrally down the full length of the spacious hall. He then bent down and picked up a number of items he had placed on the table in readiness for this little ceremony.

"These are for you my little ponygirl," he told his her. "You have earned them well."

And with that he presented her with a completely new set of ponygirl tack.

The ponygirl nodded her head and whinnied her thanks. For she knew just what these trappings meant to her. The harness, the bridle and straps were all constructed from bright green leather, and all were sparkling brand new.

Gobwern set about removing his ponygirl’s existing red leather strappings. He threw them all on the fire to burn away merrily with the logs. He then replaced everything with the new green set. He fitted the harness about her waist, pulled the crotch strap tight between her legs, locked her arms behind her back at both the wrists and elbows, then finally he placed the bridle upon her head.

Once adorned in her brand new green leather tack, the little ponygirl felt proud and held her head high. She knew exactly what all this meant to her. She was no longer considered to be a novice. She was now a fully trained ponygirl, and by wearing green she could go about her business with pride and a sense of achievement.

She nodded her head and whinnied her thanks to her master. She then looked deep into her master’s eyes. Immediately she recognised that he had received the message and understood exactly how she felt.

Gobwern nodded his head in reply.

Yes, it was true, he did understand everything his ponygirl was trying to convey, and he too was proud. Proud to be the owner of the best little ponygirl in all of the land.

The End