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| AEGEUS |
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| DWENGZUR |
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| OLAVIGEMAR |
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| GRAND MARHALL GUSTAV ERLING |
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| LORD SHONNE GULBRAND |
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| SVEIN AND TEUQUOB |
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| STARK'S MOTHER AND FATHER |
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| INGRIT (ANORA) AND PRINCE SHON ALRIC THERRAN VALAMIR |
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| BRANDT DUSTIN |
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| DUAN |
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| NERAZI |
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| SOUKO YERU |
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| DUAN Proviso (if) Brandt had entertained any suspicions about Svein during his brief exchange at the Inn, it had all but dissipated by the time they had parted company. After leaving the premises Brandt had made his way through a dark, deserted alleyway towards his lodgings, feeling discontented and a tad angry. When he came upon a dog urinating in a dark corner, to vent his pent-up frustration he fiercely kicked the poor, unfortunate creature in the side of stomach, the force of which slammed the body hard against the brick wall. Picking himself up from the ground, with a painful lame leg, and letting out cries of “yelp, yelp, yelp’ the poor thing scurried away to the best of his ability. This amused Brandt and, temporarily, lightened his mood. Snickering at the dog’s misery, he continued on his way. Brandt, just then turning
a corner, came face to face with Duan, who was also out for a stroll. The latter’s sudden appearance almost
startled Brandt. Duan, well over seven feet
in height, heavy in build with large bones and with a protruding large forehead
which made him even more menacing in appearance, clearly was not a man to be
trifled with. He had long, thick, wavy
hair that cascaded down his shoulders in an unkempt fashion, and his face was
adorned with bushy eyebrows, auburn beard and mustache. In contrast Brandt,
although formidable, looked meek and timid in his stance. His hair was neatly kept in formal style and
his clothes, although disguised to look ordinary, were still superior in
tailoring and material. Flushed, Brandt
hastened to greet Duan, inquired after the latter’s aim, but, meeting no reply
then asked to accompany him on his walk. “Suit yourself;” came the
uncaring, icy response. As they both advanced
through the poorly lit, deserted streets with their path illuminated only by
the occasional scant light escaping from the slits of the window shutters,
Brandt, finding the silence unbearable, for Duan was a man of few words, broke
in and briefly told of his encounter with Audun Colden. At the finish Duan abruptly halted (stayed)
his steps and, turning, cast his dark, piercing eyes on Brandt. Though he appeared to have something specific
in mind, he made no attempt to communicate it to Brandt. Instead, after this brief pause, whereupon he
cast his gaze over the rooftops, he with a venomous wry grin shook his head and
resumed his brisk walk. At least I got his
interest. Brandt mused. Just then, he
was momentarily distracted by a slight noise on the roof of one of the houses
that flanked the street. Seeing that it
was nothing more than a stray cat, he turned to find Duan way ahead of
him. Rushing forward to catch up he then
added, with a degree of arrogance, “But I’m certain that my suspicions were
totally unfounded, or I would not have allowed him to get away so easily. It was all but another false lead.” But he was airing these
words into thin air, for Duan had long since stopped listening to what he
considered, Brandt’s incessant blabbering, unworthy of any riposte. Though these two had been
together for a long time, there existed no regard, sentiment or trust between
them. Duan suspected the other of having
an ulterior motive for wanting to tag along and, under the pretense of being
worn down by the other’s persistence, had allowed Brandt to accompany him. Seeing Brandt as nothing more than prey, a
mouse that had wandered into the trap under his cat’s paw, Duan, with due
patience, waited for him to slip up and reveal his real intent (true
colors). At present he was merely toying
with his meek enemy. Duan was not a native born to this country and no one really knew where he had come from. He had no home or family to speak of. Traveling from place to place, accomplishing difficult tasks where others had failed (found it futile); he had spread his fame far and wide. He excelled in arms and every form of combat. His talents were immeasurable, and he had never met an adversary, however formidable, whom he had not subdued. A boon to any general’s army, a credit to the staff of any noble or sovereign, he had been offered riches beyond anyone’s wildest imagination by the most grateful of patrons seeking his alliance, fidelity or plain old amity. But, undaunted by the trappings of wealth, title or human emotions, he had sustained his solitary way of existence. Keeping in stride, still
agitated, Brandt vented, “Brother, I don’t mean to rile (vex) you, but we have
stayed in this contemptible place far too long.
Forsaking my prior hunch (premonition), I say we should move on. The Empire is vast, and we still have a lot
of ground to cover. Why should we waste
any more of our time here?” “Enough,” Duan glaring at
Brandt ranted, “I’ll decide when it’s time to go. No one is holding you back;
why don’t you just leave then, scram, if you are so impatient!” Brandt’s small hairs
rising in the back of his neck, he was silenced for good. Though fuming inwardly he dared not say
another word. All right, it must be
for some reason that he wanted to stay in this disdainful place longer, in
the end he tried placating himself. Still, what clue is there that has
escaped me and not him? He could not
dispute Duan’s superb ability at tracking the wanted men who had eluded the
best bounty hunters in the country. Only
with his help could Brandt stand the slightest chance of getting his man. Swallowing his resentment, he once more made
his apologies, trying to smooth things between them. Inwardly, however, he seethed with scorn and
sheer unadulterated hatred for Duan.
Cursing and ranting, he wondered how much longer he would have to suffer
such indignity, such humiliation at the hand of this uncouth boor. How far away was that day, when he could
finally at long last, hand (dispense) this arrogant fiend his just desserts?
~ The subsequent day Svein did run into Brandt on the
main street; the latter was in the company of another but, fortunately for
Svein, it was not Duan. As both were
predisposed to their brief, formal greetings were exchanged in passing, without
either of them stopping to converse further. I must conclude my
business at the earliest possible time, before they are wizened to my guise. Svein mused as he entered a modest sized wine shop
that specialized in quality wines.
Another customer, one called Souko Yeru who had the airs of an official,
was being waited on by the disgruntled proprietor Nerazi. This well-dressed client Souko, with his repeated references to the quantities of wine that he was proposing to buy, was arguing fervently against the already discounted price, insisting on receiving still more special consideration from the other. The proprietor Nerazi,
equally adamant in his stand, kept arguing the point that he had already made
more than enough concessions, and that any lower he would be losing money
instead of breaking even. Unconvinced, Souko Yeru
hotly jeered (heckled), “Why don’t you just skim a little more off your fat
profit? You can afford it by any
means. And don’t give me that smile and
that polite talk; I’d rather take the wine instead.” But again, the proprietor
refused to budge, insisting that he was just breaking even. “If you are dissatisfied, sir, you may take
your business elsewhere.”, finally he, in his exasperation, dared the other.
But no one was going anywhere. Their haggling appeared
most comical to Svein, for as the intensity of their argument grew, each
shouted at the other, gesticulating as they did, with their feet furiously
stamping the ground, their arms wildly waving about, their necks outstretched,
almost pecking at each other with their words. Not minding the delay, Svein
quietly stood to the side, prepared to watch with certain amusement, this
comedy of life being played out before him.
He intended to buy only two jars of the recommended wine for the upcoming
festivities, a mere trifle, a drop in the bucket compared to what the official
was ordering. The proprietor, meanwhile,
over his haggling had spotted Svein out of the corner of his eye and so
contrived to free himself from the clutches of this pest, Souko Yeru. By calling out to Luke, to leave what he was
doing and come upstairs at once, he hoped to defer Souko’s order to his
underling and serve a more agreeable looking customer. But, when Luke was a little late in his response the
proprietor snapped, pointing a finger at Svein, “Now look here, Sir, I have
other customers to serve, you know.
Please be reasonable, I really cannot reduce it any further without
losing money.” Souko Yeru, whose back was
to Svein all this time, half turned, in readiness to scoff at this supposed
customer. What greeted his eyes however, the striking exquisiteness of this very attractive youth and his formidable bearing under that seemingly innocuous garment, simply took his breath away and temporarily dumfounded, he simply gawked at Svein. There was something in the manner of latter’s
piercing gaze, that made the back of hairs on Svein’s neck stand on end. Fortunately, at that point in time the
proprietor of the store had timely interceded reverting back the official’s
attention to the matter at hand. The miserly official was most adept at
haggling and besides he was used to always getting his way; understanding this,
the unhappy merchant in the end begrudgingly grumbled out his assent. The assistant Luke, being the beneficiary of
the disgruntled proprietor’s seething vent, now directed his two underlings to
load the wares onto Souko Yeru’s sizeable cart hitched by a solitary horse. The
stout servant of the official’s managed the rains of the horse and kept the
animal at bay till swiftly the full load was transferred on board. Only when the money had changed hands did the
proprietor, careful to conceal it from the Official, heaved a deep sigh of
relief. Souko Yeru, who inspected
each jar carefully before it was loaded, had insisted on the owner’s presence
and undivided attention. When the laden
cart finally pulled away with the Official sitting beside his groom furiously
flailing the poor horse, the disgruntled proprietor then shaking his head and
mumbling curse words under his breath, made his way back into the shop, with the
help trailing close behind. In that mayhem, everyone, save for the astute clerk Luke had forgotten Svein’s presence. White the loading of the cart was going on outside, Luke respectfully asking Svein’s indulgence, he’d politely offered Svein a seat and a complimentary wine then gone back to tending his books. Upon his entry to the shop
and noting Svein, the proprietor Nerazi abruptly checked his tongue. Quickly wiping away the excess perspiration
from his forehead and palms, a congenial smile on his lips, he at once rushed
to cordially extend his greetings to Svein and his apologies for the
unavoidable delay. When Svein
reciprocated his greetings in turn and they were both after being served fresh
choice wine, were comfortably seated across from each other, Narazi then, in an
unhurried manner, asked Audun ’s (Svein’s) pleasure. Since there were several varieties of wine
recommended by Stark, Svein stated his requirement and politely deferred the
choice to the owner. Highly pleased and eager
to boast of his extended knowledge, the proprietor Nerazi embarked on a lengthy
list of his reserves, the distinct varieties and the particulars of taste,
aroma and body for each wine, extrapolating the details to the point of boredom
with an inexhaustible zeal. It took diplomacy on Svein’s part to hasten
the proprietor’s speech to its conclusion without giving offense. Concealing his annoyance, Svein thanked
Nerazi for his trouble and gave his approval of the suggested choice. “Very good…you’ve made a
decidedly good choice indeed! You’ll be
pleased, just wait and see.” his face beaming, the proprietor Nerazi assured
Svein, at the same time congratulating himself on his expertise. Upon being quoted the price, Svein promptly
produced the sum from his wallet and presented it to the owner. Nerazi, used to his customers continually
haggling over the price, for it was the accepted norm in this practice, was now
shamed by Svein’s dignified and polite way of doing business and voluntarily
reduced the amount. At the conclusion of the
transaction, as Svein made his way out of the door, Nerazi shook his head and
heaved a deep sigh then aired his wish to clerk Luke, “How I wish that all my
customers were like that young man Audun.
How much easier and more pleasurable my transactions would be. Oh, then I could truly enjoy this
profession.” “Imagine; he wants to
skin people and do it with ease, too!” Luke indignantly grumbled under his breath. As quirk of fate would have it, Souko Yeru was lodged in the same posh inn as that of Brandt and Duan. Fortunately for Souko, however, the two had been kept far too busy up till now to dine at the same hour as him and so they had never met. However paradoxically, while Svein was having an uneventful dinner at his modest lodgings on this night’s eve, these three were converged to have repasts at the same locale. Both Brandt and Duan
seated at the far corner were in a foul mood, having failed to turn up any
leads, and they ate and drank in morose silence. Dour Duan contemplated leaving this town
perhaps as early as the following morning. Souko Yeru, at another
table and having consumed more than his share of wine, began being rowdy as
usual and was causing quite a disturbance.
Seething in hatred over one named Zianko, he talked incessantly in his
grating, sometimes high-pitched voice about the so-called extortion feats he
had been forced to bear. As Souko Yeru
became more intoxicated his mood turned sourer and he began pouring out his
grievance so vehemently it soured the wine in Brandt’s throat. It was not clear
how Duan felt, his expression had not changed. Souko was in the company
of a great many friends and associates. Law enforcement officials all in his
pay had affronted him familiar sense of security and ultimately resultant
brazen conduct. Subsequently as he dawned still more wine, Souko’s mood had mellowed,
but then whenever one of his companions drawing close cracked an uncouth joke
or some other vulgar piece of tidbit news, he uproariously laughed as he
pounded his fist on the table with reckless abandon. Further affront to common decency, his companions
would turn a blind eye to his occasional shameless groupings under the table of
the fair youth seated by his side. “What a beauty he was,
too!” Souko Yeru ‘s tongue loosened, he began narrating loutishly the boorish
details of his latest lewd escapade with an unlikely detainee, in the course of
his supposed official business. Licking his chops, he grinned at his captive
audience. “Young and tender he
was!!!!” Goaded on by those sharing his
table, he then began describing the gory details that had in the end resulted
in the other’s suicide. “Pity, pity it was too…” He pretended remorse,
“I ask you why he would go on and do such a stupid thing?” His vulgar speech and
crass descriptions had annoyed Brandt immensely. Still asking for trouble, intoxicated Souko
next left his own table and moseyed across the room to the table next to Brandt
and Duan’s, making it more difficult still for them to ignore his obnoxious
presence. From where he was seated
Souko Yeru raised his cup to them in greeting but met with only a cold
regard. Not accustomed to such rude
rebuff, unwisely Souko began nursing a hatred for the two strangers. Instead of minding his own business, he dared,
as the saying goes: “to pull the tiger’s whiskers”. Paying scant attention to the advice of his
fellow diners, he kept snipping away at the two behind a cowardly facade of
aimless swearing and dared to vent his anger and save face. When the well-meaning
associates cautioned him to lower his voice and choose his words circumspectly,
he peevishly retorted, “Is this not a public place? Those who don’t like the sound of my voice can
scram!” This last insolence had
sealed Souko’s fate. Duan’s face
darkened a shade and those less inebriated or more perceptive felt a sudden
malevolent chill in the air sweeping over them as same time morbid, dire
misgivings stirred within their innards.
Dark, foreboding sentiment loomed over the room and even those
formidable law enforcement officers quivered to the marrow of their bones as if
a blood curdling venomous reptile had slithered up against their skin. But it was Duan’s hand
slowly steering towards his sword that alerted Brandt to the gravest imminent
danger. Wishing to avoid yet another
carnage, he quickly placed his own hand over Duan’s and in a (placating,) conciliatory
voice, whispered, “Later, brother, later.”
Duan threw a murderous
look at Brandt then jumped irately up from his seat, his face red with fury. This action caused quite a
stir. Many froze in their seats, held
their breath and waited for the blow to fall.
Others, ordinary folk finding their feet, jostled towards the door. Waiters began clearing tables of plates and
cups and other breakables despite the protests of several robust, competent law
enforcement officers excelling in arms, who erroneously assumed, striking
jointly they would be up to the challenge. Poised for assault, they
began rising from their seat; nevertheless, a cursory glance from Duan was
enough to purge all courage and send their terrified souls to flight. Duan’s subsequent menacing gaze now affixed on
Souko Yeru, the latter seeing the end of his life flash before him, his jaw
dropped, his hair and bones went stiff involuntarily, and he tumbled off his
seat onto the ground. An insidious sliver of a
smile briefly grazed Duan’s features and he gave a dry, mirthless laugh. Then, in just a few steps he exited the room,
scattering those in his path to either side.
This had caused another sort of debacle, as jugs, chairs and even tables
were overturned by those attempting to clear the way by throwing themselves
over furniture and others indiscriminately. Complaints from all
corners rose in Duan’s absence; “Hey, watch out!”, “Watch where you’re going!”,
“Get off my foot!”, “Look what you’ve done, clumsy fool!”, “You owe me a
drink!”, “You stained my robe!”, “Why did you push me?”, “It was an accident!” Yet others protested; “I didn’t mean to push
you.”, “Sure you didn’t!”, “I’m not paying for that!”, “Where is that blasted
waiter?”, “Where did our jug go, it was still full?” In this mayhem and hubbub all but a few had
overlooked Brandt, still seated in the corner and blending into the shadows. He was debating for a
moment just what to say to Duan once he’d caught up with him. When he rose, it was enough to, once more,
cast the room into silence. All froze
where they stood, but the path was instantly made clear for him, again with
much scurrying and trampling over others, as they got out of his way to the
door. After the storm gradually
abated, and the sounds once more returned to normal in the dining hall, the
intrepid innkeeper emerged from hiding and once more began directing his
underlings to set the place in order. Souko Yeru, finding new courage in the pair’s
absence, pursed his lips, angrily stamped his feet, and, cursing, made the
attempt to go after them. Hastily many
rushed to block his way. “Have you lost your
mind? Already you’ve had one brush with
death. Are you so sick of living that
you would tempt fate twice?” But Souko Yeru was too
complacent to see anything wrong with his earlier diatribe. “He had no right to threaten me!” he shouted
indignantly. “But you did provoke
them.” Another disagreed and more of them nodded their heads and sounded their
agreement in unison. “Did you see how
formidable they were… the likes of which not seen in these parts? You were
lucky, we were all lucky, they forwent any engagement; and particularly, did
not strike you down.” another commented. At this point Souko Yeru
lashed out at him and others furiously, cursing them all in most vile language.
“I’m not afraid of the likes of them!” He, having expanded his energies,
eventually huffed. “All of you are just a bunch of yellow-bellied dandies, and
you call yourselves law enforcement officers…Bahh! Why, you should all be
sacked! A good reprimand is what you all will be receiving, if I had my way,
instead of payroll. You should be
ashamed of yourselves. Are you men or
mice?” “Sure,” one stout official
that held higher rank than Souko, wrinkled his nose and snorted, “Is that why you so
bravely fell off your seat?” “Perhaps
the chair’s leg gave way.” A roar of laughter
resounded through the room and set Souko Yeru’s blood to boiling. “You ungrateful wretches!”
Shaking a finger at those beneficiaries of his bribes, he bellowed. His voice was getting hoarser, and he
absentmindedly rubbed his throat. “And after all those times
I’ve treated you to drinks!” He turned
his face to still others.
The innkeeper and his
hefty helpers at this point rushed out to bring things under control and to
placate Souko Yeru. “Now, now, calm yourself,
sir, before you make yourself ill. They spoke as they did because they care
about you. We are all friends here, and
friends should not quarrel. Now, have a
drink on me and patch things up. Waiter,
bring a jug here! It’s on the
house. Now, drink up, gentlemen.” Outside, meanwhile, Brandt had caught up to Duan. “Why did you stop me?’
angrily Duan bellowed at him. “Why do
you care if that miserable wretch or his accomplices lived or died?” “Brother, forgive me, but
you can’t go on leaving corpses behind you just because someone offends your
sensibilities. Those wretches were all beside themselves with drink, this being
the end to the celebratory week. And on top of that, it would not have been a
fair contest now, would it? Why it would be like slaughtering sheep, what
thrill is in that?” “No thrill; but less annoyance and little more peace in the region!” Duan scoffed. “Do you expect sense from these people,
especially at this far outpost?” Brandt added, encouraged by Duan’s
uncharacteristic, soft banter. “Brother, last time you killed a man because he
dared to put his hand on your shoulder; another one before that because he
accidentally bumped into you; and another because he refused to give way. And that’s not counting the number of
one-armed corpses you’ve piled up behind us.
Now I’ve no love for any of these wretches, but I’m getting worried at
the number of corpses we are leaving in our trail. The local officials are no problem, but
suppose this was brought to the attention of the ministry, how could we then
account for these acts and escape punishment?” “As I said earlier, if you don’t like it and are afraid, you are free to leave. How dare you assume such airs and presume to teach me sense? Who endowed you with such courage?” Duan delivered these words
with such an icy finality that Brandt left pursuit of the matter to some future
date and hung his head low in silence as he followed Duan to the gambling hall. ~ (END OF SECTION 6) |
