Read A Wild Ride Through The Night for Free Online

the ground from the waist down, they wore little hats consisting of upturned flower cups.
    ‘Don’t run away!’ one of them called in a piping voice. ‘Stand your ground!’
    ‘Yes!’ snarled the other. ‘Abandon yourself to your fate!’
    ‘
The forest of evil spirits
,’ Gustave thought suddenly, ‘
—I must be in the midst of it already!
’
    He strove to free himself, but the stubborn elves hung on tight.
    ‘At last there’s going to be some action around here!’ the first one crowed delightedly.
    ‘Yes, if you think we’re going to let you get away, you’re wrong!’ said the other. ‘We want to see the colour of your blood!’
    Gustave redirected his attention to the knight, who by now was only a few lengths away. His metallic war cry had risen to a shriek, and foam was flying from the horse’s muzzle.
    It seemed to Gustave that his only option was to accept the inevitable. He sank to his knees, shielding his head with his hands, and watched the galloping knight bear down on him.
    He resigned himself to the following sequence of events: (a) the lance would transfix his chest with a horrid noise; (b) horse and rider would come crashing down on him, breaking every bone in his body; and (c) the black knight could then, if he chose to, knock his head off his shoulders with the ball-and-chain. This was a thoroughly realistic assessment of his immediate future—at least for as long as these obnoxious elves continued to cling to his feet, and they showed no signs of letting go.
    ‘You’re dead!’ yelled one.
    ‘Now you can surrender your soul!’ laughed the other.
    What actually happened, however, was that the charging horse seemed suddenly to slow down. To be more precise,
every
movement made by the horse and its rider seemed to become more protracted, as if someone had applied the brakes to time itself.
    The black knight’s voice became unnaturally deep, like the lowest note of a tuba. His mailed left fist, which was swinging the ball-and-chain, detached itself from his arm and, propelled through the air by the weapon’s momentum, flew off into the forest. The cast-iron ball embedded its spikes in the trunk of a birch tree, the mailed fist swung ponderously to and fro on the end of the rattling chain. Gustave stared in astonishment as the knight’s right arm fell off, leaving a hole through which he could see that the armour was empty. The left leg broke loose, keeled over sideways, and was dragged along by the stirrup, the remains of the left arm went flying, as did the other leg. The helmet, which also fell off, was as empty as everything else. Then the rest of the armour crashed to the ground. All that was left was the horse, which threw back its head and drove its hoofs into the ground. Great clods of earth went flying past Gustave’s ears as the animal skidded to a halt only inches short of him.
    That was when he woke up. He was still lying where he had sunk to the ground after the gryphon had taken its leave. Standing beside him was a nag that bore not the slightest resemblance to the proud warhorse of his nightmare. Considerably leaner and far less handsome, it was pawing the ground, snorting, and nervously frisking to and fro.
    ‘Good morning,’ it said.
    Although Gustave was surprised to encounter a horse that could speak, another beast with the power of speech was no big deal in view of recent developments, so he merely returned its salutation.
    ‘Good morning,’ he said sleepily.
    ‘My name is Pancho,’ the horse said, ‘—Pancho Sansa.’
    ‘Pancho Sansa?’ thought Gustave. ‘What a silly name, and why does it sound so familiar?’ Courtesy seemed to prescribe that he introduce himself likewise.
    ‘My name is Gustave—’
    ‘—Doré,’ the horse cut in. ‘Yes, I know. I’m your next travelling companion. I’m afraid I lost your new suit of armour in the forest back there. The undergrowth was so dense, it knocked the stuff off my back. I’ll show you where the pieces