Abbalar Tales ~ 35 End Game
By Len Morgan
In the eerie grey predawn, they presented
themselves at the plaza. The Arbiter
offered a choice of weapons. They each
chose carefully then stripped to the waist and walked to a scratch line painted
across the centre of the square.
"If for any reason I call a halt, you
will disengage at once and resume this position to await my ruling. If you fail to do so after five minutes you
forfeit the contest and your life. Is
that understood?" he asked looking at each, in turn, to be sure they
understood. "When I call
'disengage', you are both to take one step back and do not continue until
ordered to do so" he said. He then
turned to the gathered crowd of less than a hundred curious spectators.
"This is to be a duel to the death on a
matter of honour. Frek and Skaa-Bae
having been unable to resolve their differences by diplomacy or any other
means. They are left with a single
option - trial by combat - a duel. The
survivor will be deemed the righteous party, blameless of any wrongdoing."
The small band of witnesses grew by the minute
as the larger-than-life voice of the Arbiter drew in the curious. A few moments of silence, and a hushed
excitement, whipped expectation to fever pitch. Bets were taken and money changed hands, as
the sky lightened in the east.
"Address!" he commanded, and both came to the set
position, blades crossed.
As the arc of sunlight breached the horizon, he stuck their blades apart with his staff and stepped back.
.-…-.
Frek leered at Skaa. “You will discover,
who is the best swordsman; in your dying moments.” Skaa did not reply…
They
had spent many hours together, more than most married couples. They had on several occasions saved each
other's lives but, now in a few moments, it would all be over. He would not enjoy killing Skaa, though he
would not admit it even to himself.
Best do the deed quickly and get it over with.
"Engage!" yelled the Arbiter.
Frek instantly threw a vertical cut at Skaa's head, intending to split the man spectacularly in two. Skaa sidestepped neatly and instantly replied with a horizontal cut to the right, opening up his whole body as an inviting target. His counter thrust began the moment Skaa's blade passed. The old man's dagger engaged and deflected it, the cut had been a feint. He took up close quarters to tie up Skaa's sword arm, and bring his own dagger into play but, there was no room left to maneuver. It was a stalemate, though he received several ineffectual blows from the pommel of Skaa's sword.
"Disengage!" this is a duel of honour, not a bawdy house
brawl. The rules of combat strictly
forbid infighting!" they separated
and toed the line.
"Engage!"
They circled warily, each respectful of the ability of the other, each looking for that one opening. He feigned an attack and watched Skaa feign an answering counter. He closed, and Skaa threw a diagonal cut, Frek felt a sharp pain in his upper sword arm, forcing himself not to look he launched an immediate counter, but Skaa danced out of reach.
"First blood,” the Arbiter called for the spectators benefit.
He allowed his sword arm to drop slightly as
though he was in difficulty but trying to disguise it, hoping to tempt Skaa
into a rash action. Skaa closed in on
him. At the last moment, he raised the
tip of his sword slightly and lunged.
Again the older man's parry was left to right across his body, he didn't
even seem aware he was doing it. They fought
on matching attack with counter-attack, reposte for counter-reposte. Both men started to get through and score
minor successes. Both were bloodied and
breathing heavily. 'Patience' Frek thought,
he could see the old man was tiring and slowing down, he smiled confidently.
Just like playing a hooked fish on a line,
give him his head, let him struggle and tire himself out, then pull him in and
there's nothing he can do about it. “Your
going to die old man."
"True enough, but not today." Skaa
grinned right back at him, "do your best and I'll give you a lesson, too
bad, it will profit you none."
Ten minutes is a long contest, few can survive under such unrelenting pressure. Yet fifteen then twenty minutes passed and they fought on, neither asking nor giving quarter. There were now many hundreds in the square, but for all the noise they made you would think it empty; discounting the irregular ringing of steel on steel. Frek gazed searchingly into the old man's face and fancied he could read defeat in his eyes. It was, as he had said, just a matter of time. The longer the contest continued the more it swung in the favour of youth. He would be patient and the opening would come and he would end it. He blocked a tired overhead swing, with his dagger, and immediately countered with a thrust at the center of Skaa's torso. There it was again! The left to right parry. As his blade was dashed aside his dagger was already in motion, 'gotcha' he thought, but his blade cut through empty air and he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He felt his grip weaken on the sword. 'Right to left, he parried rrr…' his mind became cluttered and his blurring eyes fixed Skaa with a frozen sightless stare. The younger man stumbled and staggered back several paces on willow twig legs before collapsing under his own weight. It was over.
A delayed roar went up from the assembled crowd. They rushed forward and ecstatically hoisted the victor onto their backs triumphantly parading him around the plaza. Balladeers were busy composing songs about the battling Huren, each trying to outdo the others to produce the definitive work that would endure through time. Aldor knew the tale would be wildly exaggerated, totally out of all proportion, but the taller the tale the better it's telling.
.-…-.
Later, as they all sat quietly in Asba's lounge
drinking bitter ale and eating toasted cheese cooked over a banked pile of
embers, Skaa realized he felt no joy or elation at the death of Frek. He could only recall good times they had
shared, like this celebration. Aldor
sang his praises, reliving the action blow by blow.
"I was half a-feared you made that left-right parry a little too obvious. I
thought he would see through your ploy…"
"What ploy…" Skaa said straight-faced.
Aldor gazed back in surprise, then saw the
beginnings of a smile break out on the old man's face.
"You scoundrel" he scolded, Skaa's
grin was mirrored on his own face.
Asba refilled their flagons as they fell
silent, reflecting on the hollowness of victory. Remembering the young lives that had ended
prematurely at the hands of the beast and, but for her quick mind, Genna might
have joined them the previous night.
"We should celebrate because we are
alive and that vile animal is not.
All thanks to the good right hand of friend Skaa," said Genna as if
reading their minds. "Can you
sing?" she asked the white-haired
blue-eyed man to her left, slapping him roughly on the back as though he were
an old comrade.
"Like a bird," he replied, bursting
into a familiar refrain without further prompting, "I wan-der these
g-o-o-ld-en by-ways in the daw-ns…"
"No!
No, not again, be silent!" she yelled, a look of despair on her
face, "you’re a worse singer than…
Aldor? Is it really you? It is you!" she said answering her own
question. Her face broke into a smile
and she threw her arms about his neck in sheer delight.
"Take your hands off my woman!" said
Asba, joining the conversation.
"This is no woman, this is my partner,"
Aldor replied.
"Whatever happened to you," she
asked, "what evil storm could have wrought such change."
"What happened…" He mulled over the
question for a few moments, then he burst into a smile and shook his head, then
he looked her into the eyes and said "Life happened to me. Life!" He kissed her on the cheek,
"Congratulations," he said, "you have snaffled the most eligible
bachelor in all Corvalen."
He turned to Asba and enthusiastically shook his hand.
"She's had her nets spread far and wide for years, to catch me. Yes, I'm a little; a lot older than she; so when I'm in my dotage - frail and feeble - she will be off out with handsome young men of her own age but, I shall be the one she comes home to at the end of the day. She will also be the first standard to become a revisionist in an age. Though she will be just the first of many; the future looks bright. Paveil and his sister will ensure we multiply" said Asba.
'I'm sorry to
interrupt the proceedings, but it's almost time to re-establish your mental
link with Orden. You will then not be able to bring thoughts of us, The Revisionists, or our hidden resources to
your conscious mind. But, the knowledge
you have gained over the past week will remain with you. It will always be at your disposal should it
be needed. If we need to contact you
for any reason we will trigger a memory of your time with us. When this happens you will know but others
will not. You carry with you a map of
all the locations where you can gain access to 'the old technology', so may at
any time join us without others knowing.
It would be helpful if you could discover through your connection to the
Hive Mind (HM). what happened to the great host of humanity that migrated to
the stars so long ago. It may transpire
that your fate is inextricably linked with theirs.'
'A moment yet,' said Aldor.
'Let me enjoy the silence a while longer.' He sat quietly listening to, Skaa's rich
and tuneful baritone voice singing an old folk melody, a traveler’s hymn. Enjoying…
Skaa sang loudly and softly evoking many
emotions, both joyful and sad.
'This is
silence?' the machine voice asked.
'Compared to a whole
Universe, trying to get into my mind, this is indeed silence.' Aldor replied.
'If you are now ready
to re-establish your link with Orden and the HM. we suggest you fill him in on
what has transpired, from the parallel memories we have substituted in your
mind. Good luck.'
'Do machines subscribe
to luck he wondered…’ Abruptly he became aware that he was no longer alone.
'Sprout, I was just
beginning to get a teensy tad concerned,' said Orden.
'Orden, where have you
been? Why are you never around when we
need you?'
'Well sprout, I might ask you the same, where have you been hiding and what is happening?'
'We discovered
evidence of the existence of a possible Karaxen enclave to the North, a
reclusive sect we understand. Wizomi
has gone to investigate and will re-establish contact when he can.'
'Then what are your
plans?' Orden asked.
'I will travel East
with Skaa to the homeland of the Huren, to learn more about them. Their language and customs. Then down into the Meyam states and further
into the Cheilin Empire.' Aldor said.
'May I suggest you
make the journey in reverse,' said Orden.
'You will remember the
horse trader who runs the ranch close by the enchanters wood, he is a native of
the Cheilin Empire.'
'I remember him,' Aldor replied.
'It would be to our
advantage to visit him prior to crossing the Sabre Tooth mountain range. There is a small matter that needs attending
to, which I would normally have asked Wiz to deal with but, as you say, he is
not available.'
'What would you have
me do?'
Aldor asked.
'Make him aware of your association with Wizomi and enlist his help in making contact with a secret sect in Cheilin, known as the Tylywoch; it is their name for a huge blackbird similar to a Raven; they are sore in need of your talents. I will inform Wiz that Jazim is heading in his direction as soon as he re-establishes contact,' Said Orden 'Good luck on your journey.'
'But I really should
be getting after Jazim,' he countered.
'She is no longer your concern sprout. Jazim aside, everything seems to have turned out well. The future of the Corvalen states is assured, you leave them in good hands, you chose well, but this is only the beginning. Bedelacq is now barred from Corvalen, But he has designs on the Huren states, and the Mayam federation as well. But the most vulnerable at this time is the Cheilin Empire.'
'Take a few days to
relax and celebrate with your friends, I think you've earned that much.' Said Orden.
'Words fail…' Aldor thought.
A herald arrived from the palace, summoning
them all to a reception in honour of the new Prince Regent. All the surviving brothers, including those
who had been held in the cells, were to be at court to pledge allegiance to
Paveil, who was to declare an amnesty for all.
The Kull was at an end.
"Henceforth" the herald declared,
"the accession will go to the firstborn by right. The eldest will succeed, at the moment of
the Caliph’s passing, and all his brothers will become princes of the realm; in
celebration of this, a two-day festival is proclaimed. Food and drink will be freely available, for
everyone, in the Plaza in front of the palace.
The Regent himself will keep vigil to ensure the tables are always full
and the wine casks never run dry."
The herald turned to address Asba.
"Sir, it is my pleasant duty to make the following announcement,
firstly to you in person, and then to the world at large. Henceforth, there will be a fund set up to
build and run a state School and Orphanage, in the city of
.-…-.
It
was with sadness that Aldor finally bade farewell to his friends. They refused to allow him to go until he
made a solemn promise to return the following spring for the wedding of Asba
and Genna.
They had all shared a great adventure and had grown in stature because of that experience.
But, for Aldor, it was just the beginning…
This is not ~ The End
Copyright Len Morgan
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