Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin

It nickered and half-reared, then planted its feet and tossed its head.

“Steady … ow!”

Aahz extended a hand trying to seize its bridle and received a solid rap on the forearm from the unicorn’s horn for his trouble.

“Easy, Buttercup,” I said soothingly. “There’s a good boy.”

The beast responded to my coaxings, first by settling down, pawing the ground nervously, then finally by rubbing his muzzle against me.

Though definitely a friendly gesture, this is not the safest thing to have a unicorn do to you. I ducked nimbly under his swinging horn and cast about me quickly. Snatching an orange flower from a nearby bush, I fed it to him at an arm’s length. He accepted the offering and began to munch it contentedly.

“I don’t think that beast likes demons,” Aahz grumbled sullenly, rubbing his bruised arm.

“It stands to reason,” I retorted. “I mean, he was a demon hunter’s mount, you know.”

“Seems to take readily enough to you, though,” Aahz observed. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin?”

“Certainly not,” I replied in my most injured tones. Actually I was, but I would have rather been fed to vampire-slugs than admit it to Aahz.

“Speaking of demon hunters, you’d better check on our friend there,” Aahz suggested. “It could get a bit grisly if an arm or something broke off before we got around to restoring him.”

I hastened to comply. We had rigged a drag-litter for the Quigley-statue to avoid having to load and unload him each night, not to mention escaping the chore of saddling and unsaddling the war unicorn. The bulk of the gear and armor was sharing the drag-litter with the Quigley-statue, a fact which seemed to make the unicorn immensely happy. Apparently it was far easier to drag all that weight than to carry it on one’s back.