rr568@bard.edu (Roy Rim) Thanx to K-chan, the wolves, Leon Chen (finally back!!), the guys at UK, Nessie, Missing, and everyone else. "You're well avenged on your rival, Rufus. Even as he shares the pleasures of your bed, he also shares, wonderfully enough, all your problems as well. Viz.: The goat in your armpit that charges out with nostril- flattening force, and the gout that makes you limp for woe. As often as they fuck, vengeance is yours. She suffers from his stench, and the gout makes him scream." -Rivals for Lesbia; Catullus A fan-fic based on Arslaan War Chronicles (The Heroic Legend of Arislan) Two Friends Part One (a horrible title, agreed) King Andragoras gritted his teeth and nearly reached for his sword. The flamboyant young man had interrupted again. "But, Dammit!!" Andragoras thought to himself, "he's right!!" "By leading them into the cliffs, we can soon pin them down with a deadly storm of arrows and then finish them off by a mighty charge of our glorious horsemen, who should have no problem sending those poor souls to a fiery hell!!" Narsus finished with a giant swoop of his hand, nearly coming close to sweeping the map off the desk. Andragoras looked around the table to find his generals all nodding their heads, some just beginning to understand. Andragoras couldn't understand, but then again he has always been a man of action, not thought. Kharlan nodded his head as he said, "That just might work, young man. Your Highness, I approve of this boy's plan." "So do I, Highness." Vaphreze, Andragoras' most trusted commander even agreed to the insolent whelp's plan. Andragoras has placed his life in Vaphreze's hands many times, together they have overcome what could not be, and even though the hatred he felt for this beautiful child nearly drove his wits away, that trust still remained. "Okay, but boy, we're placing the lives of the Palsian army on this plan of yours. Pray that it works." "But your Highness," Narsus smiled that smile that Andragoras was sure that had managed to get him into his royal tent, "I'm an atheist." "What!!" Kharlan whipped out his sword before Andragoras could. "How dare you speak to the King that way!!" Narsus had the most perfectly devilish innocent face on as he said, "Sorry!! I am not use to speaking to such royalty. I will go now," and before anyone could react, Narsus quickly danced his way out. Andragoras growled and was about to command his men to chase after him but was checked by Vaphreze who said, "Your Highness!! Despite his flamboyancy the boy is correct!! This is our best chance, we must start putting this plan in effect." "Grrrrrr...all right." Andragoras turned around and walked towards the table as his men joined around him. Vaphreze held in a yawn as he watched the men from his infantry pack up. It's already been over a year since Andragoras was given the crown when his brother died. Unable to bear the ugly rumors Andragoras decided on a vast campaign to further the borders of Palse along the eastern side. It's only been eight months and already Vaphreze was wishing they were back in the comfort of the Ekubatana castle. "I'm getting too old," he said to himself. "Uncle!!" "Lad!! Have you prepared your horse yet!!" "Of course, uncle!!" Daryoon gave his uncle one of his rare smiles. Vaphreze patted his nephew on the back. It was Daryoon's first campaign and he was doing well. Already the other men respected him and Vaphreze could tell that in another five years Daryoon would be a general. "Ah, Daryoon, you put energy into these old bones. You give me hope! Has it already been ten years since the death of my only son?" Vaphreze gave a sigh. It was different back then. He and Andragoras were an unbeatable pair. But now...now Andragoras was different. Oh, their friendship hasn't suffered, instead it has grown stronger, but the darkness beneath Andragoras' eyes, his already short temper growing shorter and shorter. Andragoras was there when Varen died, Vaphreze felt the strong muscles in Daryoon's back, and now his friend, no, King would need him. "Daryoon, have you seen that young man running around, wearing all those oranges and reds?" "Do you mean the one dressed like a girl?" Daryoon said this with his usual somber voice. Vaphreze laughed, then laughed harder at Daryoon's perplexed features. "Boy!! You don't even know you have some wit!!" Vaphreze laughed again. "Yes, that's him. Daryoon, who could have imagined he'd be a military genius." once more Vaphreze had to laugh at the look of downright indignation on Daryoon's face. "Uncle, please, stop making fun of me. I can't believe in such..." "But Daryoon, my boy, its true!" They watched as the man lithely ran over to their right and talked with some of the soldiers there, then laughed and ran back to the left. "I have talked with the other soldiers and he is well liked. Perhaps he reminds them of the flirtatious women that they have left behind. But all that aside, he seems fiercely loyal to Palse, looking at his plans. However, no one seems to know where he came from." "Is it true?" Daryoon had been watching the tall rather thin man with his calm eyes. "Of what?" "That he is a military genius." "Possibly the best in over a century." "Perhaps I should make his acquaintance later," said Daryoon as he walked with his uncle down the camp, never taking his eyes off the young man until he could see him no more. Soon. In one hour they would ride. In one hour his thoughts would finally be free of the torments he seemed to suffer nearly non-stop. Andragoras gripped his sword. The rumors were so vicious, so vile, yet so many, sometimes he even began to believe in them. But today was especially hard. That boy with the pretty face. He was even prettier than his dead brother and twice as smart. That tone. Just like the way his brother spoke, whom he loved so much, used to speak to him. It was of knowing superiority. And he hated it. Hated it so much as to have unknowingly crushed the iron mug he had held earlier. But the huge army that has chased and pushed them so far was his main responsibility. His responsibility to win this war and campaign. To gain at least several hundred acres of land for his country. If he couldn't be a king at his capital, then he'd be a king on the field of war. And for that, for that he would take the insolent tone of anyone. Even that of a pretty young boy who belonged in the protective arms of his mother. His mind drifted back to his wife. How he hated leaving her, but how he needed the mindlessness of battle. When this was over, all rumors would quiet, YES, they would, and he can go back to the arms of his wife and hold their son together. They must, Andragoras shivered. They must. Daryoon separated from his uncle and walked intently back towards his tent, which he shared with four other men. The man dressed in orange ran by him and Daryoon gave a thought to calling out his name, when he remembered that he had not bothered asking his uncle for the man's name. This disturbed him. He always asked the names of people his uncle thought important. "And how forgetful of uncle to not tell me," said Daryoon to himself. "I wonder," he said to himself for the hundredth time, "is it really true? Can such a man, dressed so frivolously, have such a powerful mind in that paraded head? How much of today's strategy did he plan? All of it?" This Daryoon discarded at once. No man could devise such a strategy alone in his head. Daryoon walked some more, no longer recognizing where he was walking, he was in deep thought. "How strange to dress so, yet he manages to befriend the other soldiers. Uncle was jesting but I have heard the other's remark about him and how "so and so" would do "this and that" to him. Would he change his dress were he to know the remarks they make after he leaves? Or maybe he knows already and dresses that way because of it. I must admit, he does have an elegant face, one that does not belong on such a field." Daryoon stopped. There was a large puddle in front of him. It was muddy, yet it still reflected his young face at him. He peered at his reflection and gripped his own chin. He had once been ridiculed for his own kind features that seemed to attract the attention of both beautiful women and their jealous men. More than one man had made the dangerous mistake of mistaking Daryoon's face for the strength of his arms and sword. Eventually the stories spread of Daryoon's conquests and also his apparent distaste in women which had spread its own vicious rumors. He was wearing the armor of a noble born soldier. Not the plain golden armor of a foot soldier, but the gray and white only given to those of high rank. Someday those colors would be black. There was no question in Daryoon's mind that he would be general someday, not because he was vain or ambitious but because he was raised to believe that one day it would happen. "Oy, lad. You look familiar." Daryoon turned around in surprise as someone placed a hand upon his shoulder. "Lord Quishward!" "Yes, now I remember. You're related to Vaphreze, aren't you?" Lord Quishward had come along on this campaign leaving Lord Bachman to run Peshawal. "Yes. I had the honor of being introduced at Peshawal, sir. I am Daryoon, Vaphreze's nephew." "Ah. You got the family eyes," Daryoon remembered some rumor way back about Quishward and his uncle's much younger sister. "But look around you boy!! In thirty more minutes we'll be sending those heathens on a goose hunt and here you are wandering around out of your division." "What!?" Daryoon looked around himself. "I see a soldier amongst my men whom I don't recognize and expect to see some lost young foolish soldier, and what do I get? Some lost young foolish soldier. HA! Even worse!! The nephew of Vaphreze!!" Quishward laughed as Daryoon blushed. "Now, I'm in a hurry. On our way back, I have asked your uncle, to tell the King to stop by Peshawal again for a big celebration! I'd also like you to meet my daughter, she's a lovely one. But now I have to take care of matters. OY!! Hurry up men!! We need to be ready to give those fools a beating they won't soon forget!!" "But I'm not interes..." too late, the Lord had hurried on. "But how did I end up here?" Daryoon turned around to head towards his tent. It was totally unlike him to wander like that. Firming his mind, he walked straight back. But halfway there, he stopped once again. To his right, in the middle of smiling soldiers, was that man again. This time, however, he had added an earing to his collection of outlandish clothing. Daryoon drew nearer. "So you just did that, did you?" "Looks pretty, no?" The young man fingered the jewel attached to his ear. "Pretty, just like a girl!!" The rest of the soldiers laughed as the man poured out some wine. Daryoon thought about drawing nearer and introducing himself, but something stopped him. "Men. A toast to future conquest!!" The pretty man raised his glass above his head and took a deep drink as did the other men too. "And another earing to every conquest!!" The men laughed again as the pretty man took another deep swallow. "And what will you do, Narsus, when you run out of ears to put them on?" More laughter. "So Narsus is his name," thought Daryoon. "Well, then, I'll make gifts of my old ones to one of many women who love me!" The men laughed and drank again. Daryoon was disappointed and perplexed. He was disappointed cause he had been hoping that this strange man would be different than the others. He was different, but Daryoon was hoping in another way. For such a man of odd taste to be out in the battlefield could be for only one reason. Love. Love of a country. A love that Daryoon felt in his heart every day. But Daryoon was perplexed. He couldn't understand why he should even care what this man felt or thought. He felt a strange tingle, as if an opponent was readying a strike against him, and he looked up again toward the group and found himself staring into the deep brown eyes of Narsus. They stared for a couple of seconds and then realized that the group around Narsus had grown quiet. "Oops!! I have been lax, it must be the wine. I too must prepare to leave!! Whoever catches it can keep it!" At that Narsus threw the wine bottle high in the air and neatly slipped away. Daryoon watched the man elegantly walk away towards the forest. "How odd," thought Daryoon. "Is his tent away from the army's?" "Got it!!" The soldier yelled happily and took a giant swig, then filled the mugs of his companions. Without even realizing it, Daryoon followed the steps of the brightly colored man. Narsus stepped into the woods and took a deep breathe. He hated this facade he must put up in front of others but it was necessary if he ever was going to get where he needed. Plus the smell of rusting armor and sweat mixed with dirt and horses did none to please his delicate nose. It almost made him want to retch, but just the thought of it made him cringe in fear of doing something so vile as coughing up the remains of once pleasant food. "Who was that nobleman," thought Narsus heading toward his tent. "He seemed to want something, I've seen him with Vaphreze a couple of times." Narsus quickly placed the man's image in a section of his head he kept for important people he should meet then quickly strode toward his tent, glancing at the hidden traps he had made, then was about to enter when he heard leaves rustling, then heard a thud and a yell of surprise. He walked back a couple of feet and looked up. Swinging on the rope was the same man he had noticed before. Narsus smiled. "He looks angry," he thought. Daryoon couldn't believe it!! He was beside himself in anger. "What's wrong with me!! Falling for such an obvious trap!!" It didn't do his temper much good to see the traplayer below him smiling. "Get me down!!" Daryoon yelled. "Now why should I do that," answered the brightly clothed man. Daryoon was furious!! "Why the hell did I come here!!" he thought to himself then repeated, "Just get me down!!" The man disappeared then Daryoon felt himself falling. He quickly flipped and landed on his legs. Narsus hadn't expected that. Fearing the man's anger he quickly and skillfully kicked out his leg's from beneath him. Daryoon fell down, surprised. Daryoon could feel the foot pressed firmly against his back and before he could get out, felt his arms being tied fast. He decided to save his dignity as much as he could and stopped squirming. "What are you doing," he asked in a calm voice. "Tying you up, friend." "Why do call me friend if you are tying me up?" "Well now," said Narsus, finished he stood in front of Daryoon's laying body, "you've been naughty so I have to keep you from moving." Narsus noticed that other than the small amount of leaves and dirt on the man's cloak, his armor was shining clean. He smelled nice too a sharp contrast to the other soldiers. "What are you doing snooping around my camp?" Daryoon didn't say anything and looked away sullenly. Narsus walked behind Daryoon and pulled at his arms. "Up you go." Daryoon held his weight down. "Up!" Daryoon kicked back and felt his foot connect with something. He scrambled to his feet and just began to run when he felt someone crash into his back. They rolled along the ground. He felt a fist connect with his face, the man hit hard!! He was on his back and he looked up. The pretty man's face had been marred. He had blood running down out of a muddied, bloodied nose and his eyes were slimmed and hard. He was sitting on top of Daryoon's body and held out a fist and was about to smash it down when he stopped and stared. Darrian could feel blood trickle down from his nose. The two stared. The man's face was in shock and Daryoon couldn't help but say, "So friend, are we even?" Narsus punched him again. The scouts were back and their enemies were near, it was time to move out. "Daryoon!! Daryoon!! Damn it!! Where are you!!" Vaphreze looked around his men. "Okay," he told himself, "don't make a fuss. He'll be along shortly. Let's just get the men going." He yelled out, "Let's march!!" "HOY!!" the men yelled back and started their steeds. He galloped to be next to his king and friend. "Sire, when you signal the horn we'll be there." Andragoras nodded. No more words needed to be said. At last they would finally stop running, but one more small run to get those bastards off guard. Narsus felt his nose gingerly. It was broken. He couldn't believe it!! Never had any part of him ever been broken!! Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his nose and pulled to straighten it. He held in the scream that nearly escaped. "No way am I letting him know I'm in pain." Daryoon heard the grunt but couldn't tell why since he was in front. He was sweating since he was carrying a large bag that contained a folded up tent and many utensils, on his back. The horse Narsus was on seemed to whinny in laughter at the man who carried it's load. Despite carrying the heavy load, Daryoon's anger had cooled and for some reason he was sorry that he had hurt the man behind him. "Sir, untie me. I give you my word that I won't hurt you." "You've done enough, thank you," said Narsus, nearly spitting at him. He kept wanting to touch his nose and every time he did, it hurt. He did it again. Narsus took out his wine and took a drink. He thought for a second then stopped his steed, Morning, and pulled on the rope attached to Daryoon's arms. "Turn around," he ordered. Daryoon turned around. "Come closer." Daryoon slowly walked closer. "Open your mouth." Daryoon did and was suprised as the man poured some good Salikin wine down his throat. TOO much. Daryoon choked and spat out the wine. "Oh, I'm sorry," said Narsus forgetting his anger and pulled out some cloth from his saddle bags and began to wipe at Daryoon's chin, noticing the fine angles and firm mouth and full red lips that looked like it belonged on a woman. He couldn't help but also notice that despite his sweating, the man before him still smelled clean as the woods around him. Then he touched his nose and felt a sharp pang and he pushed Daryoon away. Daryoon felt his anger returning. "This man dressed in a fool's cloth treats me like a child. I must bide my time until I can get my arms free." He noticed that the trees and grass were thinning out. "Where are we headed?" "You'll see," said Narsus. All of the sudden, huge cliffs loomed in front of Daryoon. They had reached the edge of the forest and were on top of a large hill which was dwarfed by the thin giants around it. "This is..." started Daryoon. "Yes. I would like to see in fullness what my art will do." Thunder could be heard, they looked toward their left toward the East. The familiar golden line of the Palsian army rushed toward them and then past toward their West. They were followed by a huge army, most of its soldiers dressed in plain iron. "So far so good," Daryoon thought he could hear some taughtness in the voice behind him. They walked toward the edge of the hill toward the West some more. It appeared as if the Palsian army had been trapped amongst the cliffs. The giant army in iron crashed into the Palsian army with a tremendous clap as if lightning had struck the ground, hundreds of soldiers clad in metal connecting at the same time. The soldiers in iron eagerly attacked their enemies, who were by far outnumbered. Then the great horns blew and all over the cliff tops could be seen more of the golden armor of the Palsian army. The archers pulled back their bows and let their arrows rain sharp death upon their opponents. The Makrian army pulled back, its initial charge now empty of force. Just then, from the East, could be heard more quakes of thousands of horses running. The rest of the Palsian army had come to block the only retreat. Narsus watched, the pain in his nose forgotten. "Its working!! Wonderful!! Wonderful!!" Once more a giant clap echoed around the field within the cliffs. The Makrian army was trapped, harried at all sides and shot down from above. The Makrian army was in a tough spot. Then a high horn blew. "What's that," said Narsus. Across the large road, in the forest, hundreds of arrows shot out toward the back of the Palsian army blocking the retreat way. "What in Grace's name..." Narsus couldn't believe it. "My plans!! Ruined!!" "That's my uncle's division," yelled Daryoon. "UNTIE ME!! MY UNCLE!!" "Well, go then," said Narsus. "The ropes!!" Daryoon was about to go running down with his arms tied. "are tied in a slip knot, you need but pull hard." Daryoon hadn't even bothered fighting the ropes thinking that the man would make sure he couldn't escape. Normally Daryoon would have been upset, but at the moment he had other things to consider. He broke the knot then caught his sword that the man had thrown at him and began to run down the hill, a mighty battle cry about to spill forth from his throat. He stopped. Narsus was surprised, then even more surprised as Daryoon ran back and jumped, knocking Narsus off his horse. "Sorry, friend, but I must borrow your steed," Daryoon waved as he rode Morning down the hill, battle cry let loose. Narsus leaned back on his arms, stunned, then slowly got up and watched as Daryoon thrashed into the forest. He then realized something. "He still has the backpack!!" Several minutes passed and the arrows stopped. Then Narsus heard some screams. Then the screams stopped too. The noise from the main fighting got drowned out as he stared intently toward the forest. Nothing. No one came out. Then the man he had had tied up emerged, still on Morning, still carrying the backpack, which had many arrows sticking out of it, holding his sword that was now covered in blood, as was his armor. Daryoon stared up the road toward the main fighting and yelled a tremendous roar. He got Morning into a gallop and crashed into the fray. He had saved him. The man he had all tied up before had just saved him and his plans. If that strong man had not stopped the archers, his grand plans on becoming Chief Advisor would be dead and so would he. "What is his name," thought Narsus in wonder. Daryoon blocked desperately with his shield, angling it perfectly so that it only deflected, not stopping its enemies blows. It took years and years of practice to achieve that. It was the proper way to use a shield, making it last longer. He slammed his sword upon a man's helm then reared the steed he was riding on its back legs and had it kick into the two men directly in front of it. Daryoon blocked another blow then shoved his sword through the man's armor and belly, he quickly pulled it back out and sent it angling down into another's neck, nearly severing it. The chaos around him was getting worse. He gripped his sword tighter, the blood making the handle loose. He wasn't sure if the blood that had matted his hair and was dripping into his face was his or other's. His arm was getting tired but there were still a lot of enemies. He swung again and again forgetting all about the man dressed in orange and red silks. He hoped that the steed did not slip on the blood soaked mud underneath. "MEN," he shouted, "TO ME, TO MEEEE!!" The Palsian men, confused by the arrows shot into their backs, held onto that noble voice that to them seemed to be their savior, and quickly gathered around him. The Makrian army that had nearly threatened to break through was quickly shoved back into the middle where they would be harried by more arrows. The Palsian men, heartened, pushed the Makrian army further and further, making the circle tighter and thicker. "Daryoon!!" Daryoon looked down. It was his uncle!! "Uncle!! You're safe!!" Daryoon managed to yell out over the din of war and pulled his uncle off from the ground and onto the steed, placing his uncle behind himself. Vaphraze, despite his blood covered face quickly scanned the circled Makrian army and yelled, "MEN!! PREPARE!!" Vaphraze had been in campaigns for forty years. He knew a desperate attempt when he saw one. Most of the Makrian army had bulged toward the cliffs away from them, leaving only a desperate thinned out line to hold the Palsian army that was blocking the East route. He saw the bulge of men building and soon they would rush forward and try to break through. "MEN!! NET..." Vaphreze began to cough, blood spraying out thickly. Daryoon quickly scanned the battlefield too and immediately recognized what his uncle wanted. "MEN!! NET AND SPEAR FORMATION!!" Daryoon dropped his wounded uncle at the edge of the battlefield and then pushed Morning to the front as the Palsian men formed the Net and Spear around him. He set himself up in front, most of the men massed behind him, the rest spread out to the sides thinly. The Makrian army's horn blew its retreat sequence and the mass of the army at the cliffs rushed forwards. Daryoon gripped his sword and waited. Despite the rain of arrows dropping Makrian soldiers left and right, there was still hundreds and hundreds of soldiers about to crash into them. The Makrian army smashed into them, Daryoon locking swords with the general as other Makrian soldiers swept past him but were stopped by the Palsian army. They were being pushed back. The other soldier's that were lined along the sides rushed in to harry the sides of the Makrian army that continued to push forward. "AARRRGGHH!!" Daryoon blocked the huge Broadsword that nearly swept him off the steed. Morning grunted and danced back and pushed forward adding strength to Daryoon's next blow. The general of the Makrian army was built heavy and used a massive amount of armor and didn't use a shield prefering to use both arms to swing his huge sword. Daryoon decided to use his lighter equipment to his advantage. Instead of blocking the next giant blow Daryoon neatly ducked beneath it and then had the steed slightly jump in closer and Daryoon shoved his shoulder into the general's side. As the towering man fell he exposed his unprotected ribs and Daryoon stabbed his sword cleanly in and then pulled it back out. The Makrian army's thrust had weakened, its mass substantially thinned by the Palsian's harrassing its sides and like a spring released, the Makrian army's general down, the Palsians shot forward and knocked the Makrian's back into the middle. It was the end for the Makrians. Narsus was numbed. He saw this vision repeated over and over again. He, setting the plans, that noble man carrying them out. He could see them defeating country after country. He reached for his wine bottle but then remembered his wine bottle was in the saddle bag on Morning. Instead he placed his head in his hands. "OUCH!!" End part one. Blahs: I do believe this is the first fan-fic based on Arslaan and I wonder why, since it is by far one of the best animes out there. I hope this fan-fic does it justice. Although this fan-fic is very yaoi in some ways, it will never go beyond the point I had written it too in this first part. First, because I'm uncomfortable writing this much yaoi as it is and secondly, it would be inappropriate. "What!!" some of the Split Personalities reader might think. Is Roy going wuss on us!? Nah, as can be told by the coming (and I do mean coming) side stories for the SP fan-fic which is going to be finished (FINALLY) with the tournament. Anyway, E-mail comments to RR568@bard.edu. Today is Sept 30, 1995. Hail and well met readers!! I'd like to thank that Mistress extraordinaire K, Francis Gilbert, the other guys at UK, Leon Chen, Missing, White Wolf and Grey Wolf (don't worry, I'll be doing ecchi again), and as usual, everyone else I keep forgetting. I'd also like to thank those who read the first part and replied back and the same to the people who replied back about the Godzilla/R1/2/Nuku crossover. OK, I'll stop babbling now. An Arslaan Fan-Fic Two Friends Part 2 "Lord Daryoon?" "Come in," Daryoon sat up and immediately rubbed his lower back in pain. Finally they had returned to Ekubatana. He had been forced to stay up late, dining with the King and the other royals. The King had toasted to him, a high honor, on his bravery in the fields. That toast had given him an unusually high amount of attention. Usually, after he had turned down several women, most left him alone, supposedly to sulk with himself. This time, however, they were persistent as they had realized he would one day hold a place close to the King. After the King had forced him to drink several mugfuls of wine he had finally broken down and conceded to dance with some of the ladies. He had made a fool of himself. The journey, his injuries, combined with the wine created an unpleasant sensation of dizziness. Many a women had been forced to hold a smile while he danced with them, stepping on their toes with his heavy boots. He held his head in his hands and was glad that the servant hadn't opened the curtains yet. The servant entered holding a tray with some morning wine and food. The servant immediately realized Daryoon's pains and after placing the tray on a nearby table, he helped Daryoon lay back down and began to massage his muscles. "Ahhh," Daryoon sighed, "Thank you." The servant was unused to compliments and was afraid to reply back. Instead, he doubled his efforts to please his lord. Daryoon stared at the head of his beautifully carved bed and followed the intricate lines that formed eye pleasing designs. Truly a masterpiece. He ran his fingers down his sheets the way smooth silk runs. He looked over to his right and sighed again. Another reason his back hurt so much was because of the bag. The bag sat leaning against the same table the servant had placed the food. It was a normal dirty travel-stained bag that is usually found on the back of a horse. Daryoon had carried it all the way back home on his own back. He counted all the holes in it. Twenty-three holes. The bag had saved his life. If not for the bag, he'd probably be laying in a coffin, covered in the same twenty-three holes. "At least it'd be better then left for dead in the mud," he whispered, "like those poor foot-soldiers we left behind..." then fell back asleep while the servant continued to massage his back. Daryoon woke with a start, then sighed again. The servant was still working on his back. "What a wonderful life," he sighed, glad to be awake from his dreams of war. He closed his eyes lazily and then slowly opened them again. He was about to close them again, enjoying the sensations that the servant was playing across his back when he started in surprise. The bag was missing!! He turned to berate the servant then said, shocked, "YOU!!" "Good Morning, Lord Daryoon," said Narsus still holding onto Daryoon's left shoulder which he had been working on. "Where's the servant!?" Daryoon looked around the room, noticing that there was now a wine bottle next to the cup and food. "Oh, I sent him back about an hour ago." Narsus gently pushed Daryoon back down onto the bed and continued applying pressure to Daryoon's back. Daryoon flipped around onto his back and gently pushed away Narsus' hands and sat up, pushed with his hands, and placed his back against the front of the bed. "Sir, I wish to thank you for the use of your steed and bag." Narsus' nose seemed to have healed and he was dressed in a slightly off-white silk shirt with thin lines running across it in gold patterns and stripes and loose pants the same color. Daryoon was surprised for a moment, Narsus hadn't worn anything so "casual" during the campaign. Narsus walked over to the curtains and with a graceful flick of his wrist opened the curtains letting in the late morning sun. He smiled as Daryoon scrunched up his face and shaded his eyes then moved slightly to the right of his huge bed until he could comfortably sit out of reach of the annoying sunlight. They began to talk of the campaign, Narsus' voice light and musical, Daryoon's low and somber. From time to time, Narsus would sigh as Daryoon continued to add in the "Lord" to his name. Narsus moved over to the table and poured himself a glass of wine. "Oh, don't worry about the horse. She's called Morning. She seems to like you," Narsus smiled, Daryoon was still adjusting to the sunlight. "But I can't fathom why you're thanking me for the bag. In fact, why did you carry that old heavy, horsepack all the way here. I've heard from the others that you carried it on your back?" "Take a look at the bag," said Daryoon, noticing it was in the corner. "Oh, I put it there because such a dirty, travel- stained bag seems out of place near silk sheets and the carved wood of your bed. Better to lay it in the corner where it can partially be hidden." Narsus drank more of his wine, then passed the cup toward Daryoon, who shook his head lightly. "No thanks. I had too much yesterday." "I know. I heard," Narsus smiled again as Daryoon frowned. "But one can't have too much wine," Narsus held out the cup again. Daryoon stared at Narsus' amiable face and sighed, then took the cup. "I am thirsty." Narsus stood and headed toward the bag. "I noticed the holes. Arrows?" Daryoon nodded, "Your bag saved my life. Thank you, sir." "Oh, stop it!! Please, call me Narsus. I was annoyed with you and wanted to teach you a lesson. But it's a good thing you were there, the Makrians could have easily slipped out, I had forgotten that one of their provinces are especially skilled in archery and that those particular people are raised in the forest. Strange, they give their countrymen such an advantage, but for some reason, the other Makrians have some prejudice towards them." Narsus shrugged. Daryoon nodded. "Yes...but none of them carried any swords." "They prefer to stay hidden and strike their enemy from afar. The other Makrians refer to them as, `Tiny dogs,' believing them to be cowards because they are unwilling to fight sword to sword. Now, tell me, what happened when you ran into the forest that day?" "They were quite surprised and I had thought that they would not have enough time to nock their arrows, but I was wrong. I have never seen such skill before!! Your bag...I had barely swung my body around and off your steed, luckily they weren't aiming at her." Narsus poured some more wine for Daryoon. "Your steed is very smart, Lord Narsus. The arrows dug deep into the bag, I could feel the very points pressing lightly into my back," Daryoon voice was increasing and getting faster as he remembered those exciting moments, "Morning crashed into them, even though I was not on top of her to command her, throwing them off and then I was upon them. There were thirty of them and not one of them had a sword. Instead, they seemed frightened!! HA!! It was like a mouse fighting mice!! Can you believe, thirty!! I had never fought so many before. It was only after I killed the fifth one, weaving myself amongst them for protection, that they began to fight back, but instead of swords, they used their very own bows to attack me!!" Daryoon's face flushed and he finally looked like his true age, hardly a man, making his already elegant face far more prettier. Narsus had always appreciated beauty and this was no exception. Apparently Daryoon's first campaign had not dulled his excitement for war and perhaps never will. "Can you imagine!! Bows against armor and swords!!" "Yet from afar, one of the most dangerous weapons," Narsus' serious voice calmed Daryoon down a little bit. Daryoon nodded, "and you know the rest from then on." Narsus took a gulp from the wine bottle, thinking hard. "The Killians, the men you had killed in the forest, are said to have been raised with a bow, made by their mothers, in their hands. Yes, Daryoon, from your face I can tell that you're surprised! Yes, the Killians allow their women to fight. In fact, they're every inch as good as the men. Those bows are precious to each and every Killian and apparently they use the same bow throughout their life. The bow itself is never to be harmed, only used to shoot. But since you came upon them with such deadly force, it appears they didn't really have much of a choice." Narsus took another gulp. "I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of those men you killed were actually women! Anyway, that is yet another reason the Makrians slander them. The Makrians are nearly as bad as Andragoras when it comes to dealing with women. Ha!! Ah, but poor Andragoras. I've never seen such a man humbled by a woman before in my entire life. However, with Tahamane's elegant beauty and quick wit, it's almost understandable!! HaHA!! Eh? Are you okay?" Daryoon had been staring into the empty air in front of his eyes, clutching his breast. Narsus quickly grabbed the cup away from Daryoon before he spilled it. Narsus shook Daryoon hard. "Lord Daryoon!! What's wrong!" Daryoon harshly whispered, "Women!!" Narsus jerked erect, a little wine splashed out of the bottle, in surprise. Then he began to laugh out loud! Daryoon woke out of his shock in disbelief. "What are you laughing about!!" "Your guilt!!" Narsus took another large swig. "What!" Daryoon yelled in a truly outraged voice, nearly forgetting his grief. "Now, now, my dear Daryoon," Narsus poured some more wine out for him, "I'll explain, but first finish this." Narsus sat down in his chair again. Daryoon looked wildly at his cup then at Narsus, at first unsure what to do. It took all of Narsus' will power not to smile again. Daryoon saw Narsus' serious face and eventually took a sip from the cup. Then a gulp. "So," Daryoon asked. "Well, I take it that you were hit with one of those grieving guilts that nearly knocks people out, tricking you into believing that you can no longer breathe. But don't be. Believe me, Killian women are not raised like Palsians! Any one of those Killians, whether they be man or woman, would have coldly put an arrow straight into your heart, then go striding off back into the forest where they are the most comfortable." "Yes, but..." "No buts, Daryoon. You should have known this! Women warriors are really not that rare! As a noble, you should have met at least one or two of the Goddess Misra's Holy Protectors." "But they could hardly be called women!" "I agree, they truly are too cold to be called human, but I've never really talked with one, so who knows!?" Narsus swung the bottle in small tight circles with his hand then took another swig. "So you really don't have anything to feel guilty about." Daryoon nodded, not really feeling any better. "But I see my words are not having a really calming affect, as expected, my words generally tend to raise the gall of others," Narsus stood, "but I'd like to give you a thank-you present." Narsus stumbled toward the far wall and picked up a large flat object that was covered by cloth. "This is for you." Narsus stumbled towards the wall facing the end of Daryoon's bed. "A thank-you present? What for?" "That's my secret." Narsus turned toward the door and yelled, "BOY!!" The servant came back in, "Yes, my lord?" "Hang this please, I seem to keep losing my balance." Narsus flopped back down into his chair. The servant left and arrived again with a hammer and nail. Narsus leaped out of his chair animatedly, then slowly stumbled over to the wall. The servant began to pound the nail into the wall in the center of it. Then taking the cloth off, the servant hung the painting, staring at it at first. Daryoon's eyes too locked onto the painting and his face took on the same horrified features it had earlier. Narsus secretly placed several coins into the young servant's hands then told him to take the day off and if anyone complains, then to tell them that Narsus had ordered him. "So, what do you think?" The painting was a masterpiece, the colors nearly perfect, as if one was staring at a field of greens and trees during sunset with one's own eyes. In the middle of this peaceful setting stood a man, hardly taking up any of the painting, but immediatly grabbing the poor looker's eyes and forcing it upon it. The man was dying, and clearly suffering. A spear had been thrust through his belly, the entire bottom of his clothing soaked with blood, as was the grass and ground beneath him darkened the same. He was slightly looking up at the beautifully done sun and weeping with such grief. Daryoon couldn't describe it. To paint such pain in so minute detail...Daryoon couldn't look at it any longer. He felt himself going insane. It frightened him so. Narsus was too into looking at his own work to notice Daryoon's reaction. Actually Narsus was doing his best to give off that feeling when in fact he was too frightened to turn around and see his new friend's reaction. Deep within himself, through the hazy drunkeness, lay a fear of rejection from this one man. And this too, Narsus feared. It was something Narsus had never felt before. "Hm...over at this corner could have used a little more work, but before I had noticed, the oils had dried. I wish I had found out about the campaign earlier. I would have put off this project until then. Oh, well." Daryoon tried to peek at the painting and failed and instead said, "It's...interesting, but who is that man in the center?" Narsus still had not turned around. "When I started this painting, I was thinking of Mani, the greatest of all artists. But, you see, the grief on this man's face," Narsus pointed toward the painting, "is not um... grieving enough? Mani had apparently died very young and was killed by his young servant whom he had cared and loved. The grief Mani felt, was said to have not been for his own death, but the suffering that his young servant would feel when the servant himself died. This grief, I tried to express here, but its just not enough." Narsus shrugged. "Then the servant, who wasn't a bad artist himself; nothing of course compared to Mani; had taken Mani's paintings (which have never been showed to the public, ever) and used them to make his own fortune. He began to play with high society, snubbing them with his popularity, but eventually he was found out, the paintings he had done were too simple, too boring, compared to the ones he had said were his. Apparently Mani's mother, who had died long ago, had a servant who had not only held onto Mani's earlier works but had actually raised him from boy to man. Showing Mani's ealier works, the old servant cursed the sly fox in front of the public. It was obvious to everyone then. Mani's servant was said to have gone insane and killed the old servant then and there. The sly fox himself was stoned and slain by the public, so great their outrage of his abuse to such a grand man and what he had left behind. Truly Mani's paintings were gift from the gods, if one truly believes in such nonsense." Finally Narsus turned around toward Daryoon, who had been staring out the window. "But I see that I'm boring you with my drunken chatter. I think I'll take my leave now." Narsus barely looked up and headed toward the door. Daryoon quickly turned around. "Oh! No, don't leave! Truly, I find it interesting but...Oh, I can't stand it!! Lord Narsus!! Please forgive me!! I cannot look at such grief and the thought that it will be on my wall, facing me as I sleep...it truly sets me at unease!! Please understand, I appreciate the giving but the actual present...Please, I wish it to be taken down." Daryoon looked down, ashamed to be forced to slander this man's work. Daryoon held his breathe at the silence that insued, then was surprised as heavy bootsteps rushed at him and grabbed his hands with passion. Narsus had tears forcing their way out of his eyes. "Truly!! Do you mean it!!" There was such hope in his eyes. Daryoon didn't want to destroy it but one peek at the painting was enough to make him. "Yes. It truly frightens me and I cannot bear to look at it any longer." "OH THANK YOU!!!" Narsus slammed into Daryoon's chest, nearly knocking him over. The hug lasted for a few seconds, Narsus tightly holding Daryoon's shocked body, then it loosened and Narsus, face flushed, backed up. At first, realization at what he had done made him shamed and he looked away, but then Daryoon's comment reached him again and he smiled. Truly smiled at Daryoon. "Then I have achieved what I wanted!!" Narsus ran back to the wall and pulled the painting off it. "This inspires me so!! I'll keep it with the others that I enjoy!!" He ran out the door and then ran back and yelled in, "If you want to find me, I'll be at the end of Edding's Trail to the south, I rented a small cottage there. Very pretty, very pretty. I'll be painting!!" Then Narsus ran down the hallway, sending servants diving to the sides. Daryoon shook his head lightly and stared out the window a little bit. "I've been lying down all day!!" he realized Daryoon stood up and almost fell. He had not realized that he too had drunk half the bottle of strong Silikan wine. He lay back down and closed his dizzy eyes, "What a strange friend that Lord Narsus is. Hm...are we friends?" Daryoon hoped so as he fell asleep for the second time that morning. End Part Two. blah, blah, blah: Ah, well. Looks like I'm not getting any better. I'm falling further and further down a cheesy path, can't u smell it? Yech!! I look at this and it makes me shiver in fright. I hope I can go back to writing my normal sick stuff. Oh well.