LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 6

Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and Fradel Rurik Korvald (riding on horseback) were still some distance away from any settlement or an Inn when dusk fell.  As if to multiply Fradel's misery, suddenly strong winds ushered a flotilla of dark, ominous clouds, which threatened to let loose a downpour at any time.

 Just then they sighted a thatched hut in the distance, and, in silent agreement, they both steered their horses towards it.  Obvious signs told them that the place had long been abandoned. Two lonely graves outside and a stench rising from the well attested to the tragic story of its residents.

Nevetsecnuac pushed the door open with an eerie creak and, lighting a torch quickly surveyed the dilapidated state of the interior.  The lit torch at once caused the infestation of rodents, lizards and insects to scurry away.

Nevetsecnuac brushed away the cobwebs then pushed the broken furniture and debris to one side to clear out a corner.  Inviting Fradel to rest there, he went back outside to secure the horses and meet their requirements for food and water.  When he returned Nevetsecnuac found that Fradel had made good use of this time to clear out the stove and start a small fire using kindling and charcoal chips that littered the floor.

So, he's not as helpless without servants as he claimed. Nevetsecnuac mused.  Good!

That night, sheltered from the wind and rain, for the roof leaked in only one or two places, they shared dry rations boiled over the fire to make a stew.  Fradel, more accustomed to wine and savory dishes, consumed a good share of this food without complaint, washing it down with water.  To Nevetsecnuac’s relief, the pampered scholar had proved adaptable and, more to the point, resilient.

After they retired Fradel found it impossible to sleep.  The excitement of that day, the eerie atmosphere of the room, the pelting rain on the roof, his hard makeshift (improvised) bedding and the coarse food had all conspired to keep him awake.  As the night progressed his distress became even more acute.

Now every shadow, every sound stretched his nerves taut.  Several ugly visages leered menacingly at him from the dark corners of the room but when he sat up and stubbornly fixed them with his stare they reverted back to ordinary objects.  Again, he shot occasional glances in Svein's direction and seeing him in deep slumber, suppressed an urge to grunt a would-be protest, “For Heaven’s sake, how can you sleep so soundly?”

Exhausted, Fradel reclined once more, then becoming aware of someone else's presence, he jumped up. This time, however, the apparition (ghost, phantom) was outside of the window.  As the window had no covering, he walked towards it and at the same time strained his eyes to see through the dark, the just then manifest, vacillating (fluctuating) iridescent specter.   The form drawn to closer proximity, become clearer, and he could now make out the tragic countenance of an elderly woman, which presently stretched out her arms in supplication and sobbed: “Save me, sir!  Save me!” 

Fradel was about to respond when, suddenly, out of the pitch darkness, three fearsome black wolves materializing (emerging), leapt upon her and sank their long fangs into her flesh; with such a voracious appetite, their prey (target) was instantaneously gone. Subsequently, crunching the last remanence of bones and lapping up the victim's blood, the trio of wolves licked their fur clean, thence, all three menacingly directed their attention on Fradel. They pivoted their blazing eyes on Fradel and began advancing towards him with deliberate slowness, with their tongues lolling, drooling at the mouth, as they panted.

Fradel, recoiling in terror, could not move a muscle, especially since one of the black wolves suddenly appeared inside and right beside him.

Fradel, resigned to his fate, held his breath and closed his eyes, expecting to be mauled, disemboweled and eaten to the last morsel by the rapacious wolves; unexpectedly however, the beasts simply vanished, when Sven just then stirred and, without turning to face him, asked: "What is it?”

"Nothing, nothing at all; it was just a bad dream (nightmare).  I'm sorry to have awakened you."

 Of course, Fradel's disclaimer was belied by the beads of perspiration on his forehead.  He tasted their salt as they dripped onto his lips; currently back on his hard bedding, he sullenly reclined and turned his back to Svein, as if to sleep.

 My strained nerves are playing tricks on me. Fradel consoled himself.  I'd best try to get some sleep.  With determination he closed his eyes tight but, just as he was about to drift off into the dream world, a rustling sound piqued his curiosity, and he once more lifted his eyelids to investigate.

This time his eyes beheld, in the center of the room, an enchanting, most beautiful fairy maiden’s apparition. Furthermore, smiling most alluringly at Fradel, she beckoned to him.  As he sat upright to acknowledge her, she suddenly turned into Cobarkek who, gritting his teeth, glowered at Fradel.

The scholar was seized with an inexplicable terror, recalling the bandit chief's last words to him, “I will deal with you later.”

He was about to call out to Svein when Cobarkek's head detached itself from his body, floated upwards and began to spin.  When it stopped, just in front of Fradel, the mouth opened wide and a reptilian, double-pointed tongue lashed out and coiled itself tightly around Fradel's neck, choking him.  Fradel struggled in vain to free himself, gasping for breath.

Again, Svein stirred, and Cobarkek's head simply vanished.

 Fradel found the culprit to be nothing more than the loosened strips of his head bandage that had fallen down around his neck.  Just as he was about to laugh at his own folly, Cobarkek's ghost reappeared.  Once more the scholar recoiled in terror as he watched the phantom metamorphosis into a frightful demon with grizzled red hair, blue face, glittering eyes, a saw-toothed razor-sharp grin and a blood red flickering tongue.  With green slime oozing from its four nostrils and its six arms flailing it advanced towards Fradel.  Paralyzed from the neck down, Fradel opened his mouth to cry for help, but no sound was issued forth.

As the scholar was struggling to scream, Svein suddenly sprang to his feet and hacked the demon into two halves with one blow.  Both halves toppled to the floor, motionless, giving off a dense bluish vapor that settled into a putrid mass which oozed under the floorboards.

Svein turned to smile reassuringly at Fradel, "It's all over now, go back to sleep."  Then, quite unruffled, he lay down once more, facing the wall, to fall asleep.

Fradel leaned over to ask, in amazement, "Aren't you afraid?"

"I used to be", Svein confessed.  "When I was younger, but now I know there is nothing to be afraid of."  He shrugged his shoulders under his blanket.

 "This is to be expected.  All abandoned places have their share of ghosts and demons, but they can only harm us if we let them."

Fradel nodded and also reclined in order to sleep once more.  He was very comforted by Svein's presence and, gradually, his heartbeat returned to normal.  Drawing closer, he whispered his thanks to Svein but the other just let out a disquieting laugh and, when Svein turned around to face Fradel, he wore Cobarkek's face.

With a start Fradel awoke and sat up, a crazy gleam playing in his eyes.  When he steadied his heart once more, he realized that all of it had been a dream.  But was it really?  He had an eerie feeling about it all.

At the far corner a huge rat was gnawing at an empty flour bag as it flashed its red eyes at him.  Standing up, Fradel strolled to the window and peered outside.  It was just before dawn and he saw Svein harnessing the horses, anxious to be on the road again.

Before they left, on Fradel's insistence, they dug a new grave and fished the corpse out of the well.  Despite the decayed condition of the body, Fradel at once recognized the old lady in his dream.  Giving her a proper burial next to the other two mounds, they allowed the poor woman to find lasting peace in the afterlife with her husband and daughter.

Svein then mounted his horse and urged Fradel Rurik Korvald to follow suit.

 Looking back on the three small mounds, another painful memory intruded into Fradel's thoughts.  In a deep silence he hung his head; his face was long and drawn as he reflected over this past, tragic episode.  Absentmindedly he pivoted his mount around and let it follow Fiery Comet onto the open road. 

(END OF SECTION 6)

 

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 7

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE ASSASSINS- SECTION 7

 Unarmed Brandt intrepidly faced Stark and then pointing to Duan's corpse, tersely exclaimed, "Incriminating as this may seem, it affected the desired purpose. Heretofore I had to go along, to earn his trust, knowing he would lead me to you both.  And I had to make it look good during the fight so as to disarm him and gain such an opportunity to assist your Lordship, Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon?”

On saying this Brandt   gave another respectful, though a bit more flamboyant bow to Stark.

Svein, taken by surprise, turned his questioning, hurtful eyes on his uncle:  Asger?  Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon?  Is that who you really are? If so, why have you seen fit to keep this from me in all this time and after all we’ve been through? 

SVEIN

Mindful of Svein's stare, Asger's cold, stanch gaze remained affixed on Brandt.

"If my words prove to be false or misleading, my Lord, you may then consign me to the sword, and I will not cry out of any injustice."  Brandt   paused to cough lightly, clearing his throat, and then continued, "My Lord, I would like to first declare my undying loyalty and allegiance to our late sovereign, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir and his supporters.  I solemnly swear on my honor and on my ancestor’s grave, to the validity of my claim.”

 In his heart of hearts Brandt   hoped his father and his ancestors would forgive him of this very necessary falsehood! As it were, it had taken all his willpower not to have (choked) gagged on his asserted (avowed), sham oath.  His eyes did not blink staring straight at Lord Asger’s, nor did his earnest tone waver, when he next explained, "I had not chosen to accompany this notorious assassin by (accident) chance, my Lord.”

He paused and then smiled disarmingly, desiring to elicit suspense.  “I was entrusted with this task and pursued this difficult course at the urging of Lord Shonne Gulbrand, when His Lordship had received word from the capital that proper authorities clandestinely had enlisted this assassin Duan to track and murder, your esteemed self. Up until then, the precursors of Duan had presented no real danger and had required no such course of action (drastic recourse)."

Brandt’s reference to Lord Shonne Gulbrand would have easily been dismissed by Svein, had it not been for the slight change in Stark’s (Asger’s) coloration that instigated (incurred) his curiosity.

Perhaps this was unperceived or simply overlooked by Brandt who’d unceasingly continued with his accounts, “I’d pursued Duan covertly for day and a half, until one evening I fell into his adroit ambush.  At sword point I was forced to concoct a convincing tale, chiefly that I too, was dispatched by the authorities, to observe and if need be, fight alongside him for this mission’s success. Lord Shonne Gulbrand with his foresight and seeing to every detail had fortunately furnished me with official looking forgeries. Duan was outraged and threatened to kill me at first, but on a moment's reflection, he stayed his sword poised to strike at my throat and asked to see my credentials plus these so-called instructions.  After brief scrutiny he was ascertained of their authenticity and begrudgingly consented to my company. For reasons known only to him however, he kept the documents on him, in the inner pocket of his upper garment. If you fetch them, these false documents at least will verify part of my story.”

Brandt   had altered the truth only slightly, in fact both Duan and he had been from the very start secretly dispatched from the capital by Lady Lingrace.  She had seen to every possible contingency and provided Brandt   with the documents.  Neither Emperor nor Lord Shonne Gulbrand had anything to do with it.  Her ladyship had insisted Brandt   accompany Duan on this task, and Duan after demanding more payment to compensate for this weak link, had reluctantly agreed to it.

A nod from Stark (Asger) sent Svein over to Duan’s corpse; his upper garment had been discarded during the intense fight, some time prior to his eventual death.  After a brief search, Svein returned with the waxed leather case and handed it over to his uncle. Svein (Asger) kept a close eye on Brandt, as he, after removing the airtight outer casing, briefly examined (perused) the contents of it. Somewhat satisfied, Stark (Asger) simply tucked them away in his side-pocket.

 “You may continue.”  He next commanded Brandt, with still cold indifference.

Brandt   had only guessed where Duan had kept the papers.  Fortunately, they had survived destruction from the slashes of the intense fighting earlier on.

"For over two years, my Lord,” Brandt   pleased with the outcome, continued in earnest.  “I remained undaunted by countless obstacles and hardships that villain had put me through. He left a bloody trail behind of unimaginable horrors. All the while, he took such perverse pleasure at my sufferings.” He closed his eyes fleetingly then shook his head as if to purge dreaded images from his mind.

“I had to adapt my Lord, had to be more like him, till eventually, I gained his confidence and thereafter I gleaned through observance or from whatever few civil words he cast my way, some insight into his strengths and weaknesses.  Do not judge me too harshly my Lord; for had I not timely interceded, albeit in perceived treasonous manner, I'm afraid that competent as you both are, hmm.” Brandt   hesitated for a moment, before putting it more delicately.

 “Let us say, Your Lordship had not yet seen his utmost capacity. He was only toying, biding his time till he unleashed his worst on you both.  Had he chosen to flee…?” Brandt   shook his head dourly.  “Oh, I’ve seen him (in a flash) instantaneously disappear into thin air.  Had he done that and then descended upon your Lordship and company later, the inexorable dire consequences would have indeed weighed heavily on my conscience.  My Lord, he could move like the devil's wind on treetops or through earth, sand and snow leaving no tracks to follow him by.” He looked up squarely at Asger.

"Surely now, your lordship can understand the necessity for all my prior deceit and alleged, dishonorable conduct."

Stark (Asger) was not at all swayed by this remarkable performance; moreover, he suspected Brandt of being far shrewder and wilier an adversary than he led on.

“Hmm, the gravity of our situation (precarious existence) is further burgeoned by the fact that these two has done the impossible; they have succeeded in where that Usurper with all his resources and manpower has failed to do in twenty years.  And why Lord Shonne Gulbrand, why pick him?”   With a stone face, Stark (Asger) inwardly pondered.

STARK (ASGER)

As it were, Lord Shonne Gulbrand, because of the scrutiny from Capital lasting till present, for both their sakes, had remained quite out of touch with Asger or any other existing insurgent groups.

“Yet now he would risk all, undertaking such a perilous feat?” Stark further mused.

His eyes piercing Brandt’s, hmm, he may or may not have accomplices. Stark studied Brandt, while on the outset seemingly taken in, assiduously listened to the rest of latter’s yarn.

This close call had nevertheless, warranted caution and in order to obtain further pertinent data, Stark (Asger) needed time to at length interrogate (grill, probe) this albeit cunning and definitely sly adversary.  Well before this undertaking, however, he needed first to clarify a few more specifics.

"I am inclined to believe you sir. “Stark (Asger), breaking his silence, injected thoughtfully.  "Still, what further proof can you present to win my confidence?"

"That has already been arranged, my Lord.” Brandt   complied respectfully and bluffed.  "After Lord Shonne Gulbrand had assisted your esteemed self's escape, he had, with due discretion, dispensed the necessary funds and manpower to procure the other of your twin swords before it fell into the enemy hands.” Inwardly elated Brandt   congratulated himself, for his quick thinking and postulation (conjecture).  

Lack of any reaction, adverse or otherwise, on Asger’s part had reaffirmed Brandt’s longstanding hypothesis. So, Lord Shonne Gulbrand had a definite hand in Asger’s escape after all!   

Outwardly, meanwhile, Brandt maintained an even tone and continued without cessation.  “His Lordship had done this, with the utmost confidence that one day when the time was ripe; he would present it to your Lordship, perhaps upon your next meeting.” He halted his narrative with a barely discernible hint of a query in his tone.

No? No reaction, none? So, there has been no contact with Lord Shonee Gulbrand since then. Good!

With confidence now, Brandt added. “When it became necessary to send me on this errand however, he entrusted it to me as a means of winning your Lordship's confidence.”

That’s highly unlikely! Stark mused, while pretending to acquiesce.

 “Please examine the sword that now lies on the ground.  I dare not make a move to procure it, lest you’re Lordship and your respected nephew here suspects me of a ruse."  Having said this, he looked directly at Svein with a certain glint in his eyes, a slight semblance of a dare, as he artlessly donned an infuriating, bemused smile.

"There is no need to examine it”, came Stark’s (Asger's) icy response.

 "Svein, please be good enough to retrieve it for me."

"Don't trust him, Uncle.” Svein murmured a warning as he, (recovering it,) handed over the sword.

 Stark (Asger) merely grunted his concurrence then, oblivious to the raging snowstorm, continued to interrogate Brandt further with more penetrating questions. After a time, Asger, seemingly satisfied with Brandt’s responses, appeared by degrees more accepting of Brandt.

 In this entire time, obliging as Brandt was with his answers, not being as hardy (resilient) as Stark and Svein, he had gradually succumbed to the effects of fatigue and cold.

03 -BRANDT DUSTIN

At first, Brandt’s complexion progressively paled; the next instant, in mid-sentence his face gone completely ashen, he’d faltered, swayed on his feet and simply collapsed face down onto the ground already cushioned with thick layer of fresh snow.

 Svein darted over to Brandt’s side. Crouching over the body, he turned Brandt   over and brushed off the snow before examining   Brandt’s vital signs.  Brandt   was clearly unconscious, however still suspecting a ruse; he guardedly examined Brandt’s apparent injuries.  He did have a few serious bruises, lacerations, slight frostbite in fingers and a big bulge, sort of swelling (lump) on top of the head, underneath that mop of hair.

“I suppose the combat, contusion, the strain of inquiry and the elements were all in all too much for him!”  Svein with an air of disdain concluded his findings. 

Stark’s (Asger’s) cursory examination of Brandt’s discarded stiletto (dagger) meanwhile had revealed that the blade had predictably been laced with a rare but very potent poison. Asger’s mind had at once recalled another such incident where this poison had been used with equally dire consequences. 

Concealing his unease however, Stark (Asger) simply nodded; then on his directive, Svein hauled Brandt   over his back and followed his uncle to the stables.

There, they found a comfortable spot for Brandt   to lie, well away from the horse, where they had kept some of the (non-essential) winter supplies. They lit a brazier and stacked it with wood to make sure it would last out the night, then fetching the medicine and such, Asger with due diligence tended to Brandt’s wounds, while Svein at the outside secured both Brandt and Duan’s horses and after a cursory scrub housed them also in the stables alongside Fiery Comet. 

Stark (Asger) had scant reaction to Svein’s subsequent news, that judging by the obvious tracks, Duan’s corpse had already been swiftly carted away by pack of wolves, (if not some hungry predatory beasts); therefore, negating any necessity of a proper burial or pursuit of the remains. 

                                                                                                             

                                                                       ~

 

(END OF SECTION 7)

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 5

THE LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 5

From his hiding place Brandt’s eyes had avidly followed Duan’s progress, only losing sight of him once or twice, but then, the full moon obligingly re-emerged as the last passing cloud drifted away to the north illuminating the grounds once more.

DUAN

Brandt just then recalling to mind, the stipulated task which he presently had neglected, he at once fetched the remainder of the foul-smelling bundle that had been set aside and quickly smeared the contents of it on the well tethered mounts. It would effectively mask the horses’ scent from any predators for two to three days hence, even though thankfully after a bout, the overwhelming pungent stench dissipated, leaving only a slight residue of pong.

Hmm, why not? Brandt   shrugged, glancing at the remainder then quickly patted it on parts of his clothes and hair. For a spell, typically, his nose wrinkled up and then he was immune. As he had every intention of joining   the fight, he grinned mischievously imagining   this to be an effective repellent not just to beasts but to man.

When the moon once more took refuge behind some dense clouds, Brandt   defiantly left his post and stealthily drew close to the cabin. His searching gaze again spotted Duan, whose swift advance had abruptly stayed (halted, arrested), by the unexpected loud disturbance arising from within the stable.

DUAN

No chance of using hay from the barn to stack up against the cabin now. Flushing them out through fire, bah! It was a stupid idea anyhow. Brandt   scoffed then grinned pondering, what other bright ideas Duan had up his sleeves.

The mount presently again, was heard neighing, prancing, and stamping his hooves on the ground, overall raising quite a ruckus to give fair warning   to his master.

Unnerved, Brandt   abandoned his stealthy advance and hastily took cover behind a cluster (group) of trees.

 “Now where in blazes is he?” Brandt   grumbled under his breath as his eyes sought Duan, for Duan had entirely disappeared from his view, and this time for good. He did not have to wait long however, when suddenly a fierce fight erupted on the rooftop of the main dwelling. Aside from the thunderous sounds of hand-to-hand combat, swords clashed repeatedly and violently, sending sparks into the night air.

DUAN FIGHTING SVEIN

You shall not rob me of glory! Brandt, hugging the shadows, darted towards the cabin. He paused only for a spell to consider the more prudent course, a sure tactical advantage that seemingly lay ahead. But it was a trap, that of which he recognized just in time, therefore escaping a certain ghastly end.

Dodging similar traps, he relentlessly pushed on and finally got within proximity to the Cabin’s doorstep (porch). Grinding his teeth and brandishing his sword, he made ready to (in rapid strides) fly over the stairs and burst inside and deal a swift deathblow to those within. But at that precise moment the cabin door flung open and the other they had sought, the one-armed fiend emerging, brandishing his sword in a single jump, landed just before Brandt   to bar (block) his way.

 “Where do you think you’re going?” He shouted at Brandt, his attention at once drawn to Brandt’s sword, as he at the same time wildly hacked at him. Brandt ’s eyes blazed seeing the ancestor sword in other’s hand; rage swelling within his chest and with equal equanimity he fended subsequent nimble strikes and delivered his own deadly assaults on Stark.

Back on the icy rooftop a superb fighting had ensued between Svein and Duan, as the latter repeatedly whirled his sword like the fearsome wind and brought it down on Svein with a forceful blow. But Svein in lightning   speed each instance (case) escaped the course of the blade (the sword's path) and instead, dealt the assailant numerous damaging blows of his own.

 All the while Duan had also targeted the chimney, trying to dismantle or destroy stone/brick structure, in effort to suffocate (smoke out) those within the cabin, but this also were ably thwarted (foiled) by Svein.

At one point after parrying Duan’s sword, Svein then with lightning   speed landed Duan a most powerful punch on the jaw that sent Duan faltering backwards on his feet to the periphery (fringe, edge) of the (snow covered) roof. He halted only just, with his heels dangling in midair as the dislodged flecks of ice cascaded down.

No worse for wear however, in a flash Duan not only steadied himself on his toes, but in an agile move, with a swift summersault going right over Svein, he landed squarely on his feet behind Svein and lunged.

Quick maneuver on Svein’s part blocked this deadly aim and the subsequent lightening charges, thrusts, and stabs.

Duan, now in a more solid stand laughed aloud and shouted: “Not bad, not bad at all kid!! But these rooftop engagements are tiresome, don’t you think?” Then quick as the wind, he somersaulted down onto the solid icy ground and this time engaged Svein in so fierce a combat that even though the full moonlight bathed the premise, all that was discernable (visible) to the naked eye, was a whirling, streaking (whizzing) blur.

 Brandt   also caught (occupied) in a fierce battle with Stark, at one point had nevertheless drawn close enough to Svein to note in a side-glance, the features of the young man.

Why that is, what was his name again? Brandt   could barely contain his shock and surprise. That’s right… Audun Colden. Blast!!!  Brandt’s astute (shrewd, incisive) mind had at once pieced it together. Brandt, seething in anger now for being (duped) played the fool, he cursed Audun (Svein) under his breath and redoubled his strikes against Stark.

Once this foe was bested, Brandt next aim would be Audun; however, Brandt had pegged (gaged, judged) that one wrong as well, for despite Stark’s wounds, his consummate skill, and the intensity of the combat, was so swift and outstanding (remarkable) that it robbed Brandt any chance of besting him.

“Fool, all you are is an impediment!!” Duan furiously bellowed at Brandt, when at one point Brandt   got in his way.

Duan’s subsequent lightning   strikes in quick succession hacked and thrust at Svein's ribs and other body parts, but in each instance, incredibly, Svein with his nimble maneuvers (bend, twists, or turns), repeatedly averted and deflected the deadly course of the blade. Maddeningly still, in all that time Duan’s invincible deadly strikes had barely grazed Svein’s clothes.

Brandt   had witnessed Duan vanquishing whole contingents in the blinking of an eye. Yet thus far Duan with his indomitable fighting style and prowess had failed to gain the singular advantage over Audun Colden (Svein).

The villain (fiend) Duan had finally met his match! Adroit Brandt’s blood boiled with fury, doubting hence, his and Duan’s prior, anticipated victory.

From the start, Stark and Svein had pegged Brandt as not being a serious contender within that fighting group and quickly relegated him to lateral combat. It still took all Brandt’s skill and might, nevertheless, to parry or fend off Stark’ sporadic (intermittent) assaults. Stark’s key focus directed at Duan, whenever he could, he had landed a helping hand to Svein. Nor could Brandt   get away now, to assault those in the cabin's interior, as a diversion, presumably (likely) the weak point of these two invincible warriors.

The intense combat, occasionally, with the three combatants Duan, Stark and Audun (Svein) interlocked in fierce struggle had, meanwhile, lasted indefinitely for Brandt. They had paid little heed to Brandt, who fought futilely on the flank. Jealousy gnawing his innards. Brandt regretted now having played his part all too well, Duan despised him and so it was far too late for an effective, coordinated strike against the foes; meanwhile, the adversaries’ combined force was invincible.

Brandt, as he fought on, with his astute observations, had irrefutably (undeniably) now, grasped the full scope of their impossible situation. In all the years of fighting, (even when based on sheer force, stamina, and skill) he had seen nothing remotely, akin to it.

How best to survive (outlast) this sure forfeiture?

Presently, with the two striking at Duan simultaneously at once, Brandt, knowing it was only a matter of time before Duan was (bested) vanquished- inwardly tallied (weighed, deliberated on) his scarcest options, and wracked his brains, till he reached an apt resolution.

                                                                                        ~

At one point in time, Duan ceasing a rare opportunity, in lightning speed struck Svein, then in a whirl, hacked at Stark’s back, only to find his blade in both instances simultaneously blocked, sending fiery sparks into the night air.

SVEIN

This for a spell, demoralized Duan, for good as Stark was the youth who fought only with ordinary sword, still wielded the blade with such consummate, deadly effect, furthermore, his unfaltering speed and agility were unlike any Duan had ever encountered (engaged in). This was far beyond any human skill; it must be…. Duan inwardly nodded, remembering his fortunate findings from the supposed cryptic chronicles (private journals) of the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn’s in that vault.

Inwardly, Duan could not help but admire the youth’s super-human competence (thankfully, not fully realized yet,) that still far exceeded any proficient mortal martial arts’ expert, such as the one-armed foe.

Anyone else would have long ago perished by my blade (wielding of sword). So young, yet he possesses such consummate, invincible power. Hmm, Duan, presently demurred while keeping up the intense combat. The elder, despite his wounds and obvious handicap is also to be admired: a pity that I must slay such fine warriors.

 

Svein and Stark, meanwhile, for an immeasurable time had kept up with their coordinated maneuvers, and presently, still effectively stayed both Duan and Brandt’s (assailants’) recharged deadly offensives.

Be that as it may, despite all seeming appearances, the unremitting intensity of combat combined   with the effects of the medicine Stark had ingested earlier, had in fact by degrees begun taking its toll on Stark; yet with tenacious vigor, he’d obstinately, persistently pushed to ward off Duan’s fresh unfaltering swift strikes, ignoring Svein's repeated urgings for him to withdraw from the circle of combat. 

STARK

"Please get back to safety, Uncle. I can manage them both.” Svein again urged Stark, before he swung with full force at Duan's chest then intercepted Brandt’s thrust by tripping him face down to the ground.

“Nothing doing” Came Stark’s stern response; however, just then seeing Teuquob armed and about to emerge from the cabin, both Duan and Brandt   shot through the air in an incredible speed, in a straight beeline towards her. It was all Stark and Svein could do to block their intent; and as Svein kept them both effectively at bay, Stark catapulted, swift as the sudden gust to land just before her.

“I told you to stay within! Outside is no place for you to be. Now get back in and bolt the door!”  His stern command, command of a general forced Teuquob to abort her aim at once and quickly withdraw inside.

 “Stubborn girl,” Stark shook his head, as he turned and rushed back to join the fray.

Teuquob with certain foreboding had bolted the door and stamped her feet, and then angrily casting the sword aside, went to look in on the just then squabbling twins.

 The sounds of the intense combat outside picking up momentum stirred her heart anew with further misgivings and she hugged her children as she bit her lip to stop the urge to scream in sheer frustration. Why wasn’t she allowed to fight? She was competent enough; was all her training for nothing but a show!

As she had squeezed them tighter still, the twins, very much surprised, ceased their rumpus (crying) and with confused expressions only a mother could tell, stared back at their mom.

“I should be out there, fighting alongside them. I am capable enough!”  She found herself explaining   to those staring, innocent faces. “In here I feel so utterly useless; there must be something I can do?”

Presently, she would pray for their salvation; then, she would defiantly, join in with the fight outside.

Subsequently, with the twins at close by, she prostrated herself before the altar of the mountain god, Rognar, (resting) set up over an ornate mahogany table in the private corner of the living area. There, with a heart-rending plea she entreated the God, till such time she participated in the fight, to be merciful and aid her beloved husband and esteemed uncle.  Furthermore, to bequeath her, Svein and Stark, utmost power, strength, and endurance, so that they may jointly, easily subdue the (assailants) enemy.

                                                                                           ~

                                                                               

TEUQUOB

 (END OF SECTION 5)

 

With Lips Gone, Teeth are exposed to Cold

With Lips Gone, Teeth are exposed to Cold

(From: Spring and Autumn Annals) 

Re-written by BoSt

Long ago, Duke Xian of the state of Jin wished to expand his realm and power; the Duke hence, bade Xun Xi to launch an expedition against the powerful State of Guo. The great distance however was of some concern and the campaign’s success depended on traversing the State of Yu. At the time there was a tentative alliance with Yu so Duke Xian asked Xun Xi for his counsel on this matter. 

“In order to secure Duke Yu’s promise to let our army pass .... Hmm...” Xun Xi remained hesitant for a moment, before resuming, “The surest way My Lord, would be to present Duke Yu with our Chuji Jade and good number of Quchan steeds.”

(Note: Xhuji in Xhanxi Province was famous at the time for producing excellent jade stones and Quxhan in Shanxi Province was renowned for its fine breed of horses.)

“Is there no other way?” The Duke Xian was displeased with the suggestion. “The stone is an inherited treasure and should remain so for the next generations. And the idea of losing my steeds to that loathsome, pompous Lord is quite unacceptable. “Duke Xian grumbled, “Perchance, what if Duke Yu accepted our gift but refused our request, what then?”

Xun Xi braved Lord’s fury with this quick riposte: “Well my Lord, if Lord Yu refuses the fine gifts, we can be certain of his veiled hostility and look elsewhere for the safe passage. If however, his Lordship does accept it, we’d only be allowing his Lordship temporary custody of the treasures. What is there to be worried about?”

Duke Xian nodded with approval and soon after sent Xun Xi to the State of Yu to negotiate the army’s safe passage. 

Xun Xi was quick to gain admittance to the Yu court. He presented a splendid figure in his fineries holding the large precious stone before him. Many courtiers gasped witnessing the magnificent steeds that were corralled into the courtyard, dazzling everyone.

Duke Yu greedy for the fine gifts, was about to make the emissary of Jin Xun Xi a rash promise when one of his loyal subjects, Gong Ziyi, came forward to protest: “My Lord, I beg a private council with you, if you please.”

“What, now?” Duke Yu was annoyed.

“How preposterous an intrusion! Has propriety and good sense left Gong Ziyi” Many courtiers grumbled under their breath.

Nevertheless Guo Ziyi was a well respected, loyal minister and Lord Yu was bit intrigued. He signalled Guo to advance and gave him permission to speak his mind.

Guo Ziyi was most direct. “There shall be no promise of any kind, your Grace.” His strong, resounding voice simply ripped through the stone cold silence that had enveloped the court.

“What Yu is to Guo is like gums to the cheeks. Gums are closely related to cheeks and cheeks to gums; which is exactly the present situation of Yu in relation to Guo. As the old ancestral saying goes, ‘If the lips are gone, the teeth will be exposed to cold.’ The fact that Guo is able to exist depends on Yu while Yu’s ability to survive hinges on Guo. This inter-dependency will be jeopardized, if we make way for Jin army, allowing Guo to perish. Their demise will transpire in the morning to be followed by Yu in the evening.”

Guo again spoke in good strong voice: “Why should we ever let Jin pass? Why seek a small gain, only to harm vital interests?”

Duke Yu, however refused to listen to reason and, blinded by greed, in the end still gave the Jin army convenient access to Guo.

Thus Xun Xi attacked Guo and conquered it, and on the way back attacked Yu and conquered it too.

Xun Xi then triumphantly returned to Jin. The jade and the horses were once again restored to Duke Xian who, greatly pleased, said in good humor: “The jade remains the same, but he horses have got some more teeth!”

Fin