LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC
THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 6
Outside the cabin the ongoing combat by degrees had further intensified. Now they had as well the sudden snowstorm to contend with. The blinding swirls in part aided Svein and Stark who were adept at fighting in all kinds of weather.
 |
| SVEIN |
With
Brandt’s sword flying from his hand, his body next in a headlong thrust was
projected through the air straight at the thick trunk of an ancient tree. The
severity of the hit immediately rendered him unconscious. After a spell when he came to, the fighting
had fortuitously steered well away from his position.
Everyone
being too preoccupied with the deadly struggle, none had noted his regaining consciousness. Seizing this opportunity, as
his head throbbed anyhow and stars still danced before his eyes, besides which
his body having taken quite a beating ached all over- Brandt closed his eyes and remained perfectly still
where he lay. His intent was to purloin (pilfer) some time to consider his
options while he regained his full faculties and strength.
Brandt’s
subsequent stealthy observance revealed that Duan ‘s discarded sword with a
broken blade lay to the side as Duan presently was using Brandt’s own sword.
Blue
streaks of icy light flashed from the fierce clashes of the twin swords,
engaged by opposite forces. On each turn
one blocked the other's assaults effortlessly.
Oh, such a feat, a truly spectacular
(outstanding) sight! Witnessing these near fatal clashes and
murderous charges, Brandt despite
himself, for a spell, had remained in awe of their brilliant magnificence.
 |
| SVEIN |
His abhorrence of the nemesis was such, however, that all too quickly his face darkened, when he rebounded from this temporary sense of wonderment.
Blast him!
Brandt presently bit his lip and cursed
under his breath, as his covert focus once again was affixed on Stark. Wounded
and old, yet the fiend still fights with the strength of a hundred men. No doubt he is aided by demons! Hmmm…This
remarkable youth and he, together they represented an invincible (unbeatable) force;
but perhaps individually, he inwardly concurred: yes, individually they could
be bested.
It
was at this point, recalling an old axiom about the two fighting tigers, that
the very solution hit (struck) Brandt: his would be subsequent course of
action, the only plausible option. Brandt’s heart more at peace now, he closed
his eyes in respite. He would wait out the fighting tigers till they wore each
other out.
Furiously
however, it had continued seemingly endlessly, with the same vigor (dynamism,
energy) and intensity. Though the contenders had by then divested themselves of
most of their garments which now lay scattered about on the ground, and the
biting winds had picked up to form rime (hoarfrost) on their hair, rivulets of
sweat still ran down their foreheads, cheeks and over their bare chests.
Brandt while remaining perfectly still and, waiting for this
stalemate to end, with hypnotic force of his mind had effectively blocked out
the ravages of the cold from affecting his body. But another sort of danger was creeping in,
for the scent of warm blood fresh from the combatants’ wounds intermingling
with sweat had attracted countless glowing eyes in the thick bushes around the
clearing. Saliva dripping from their
mouths the hungry pack of wolves waited patiently for a chance to strike (and
devour the resulting, wounded prey).
Brandt felt as though he would burst stealthily observing how Duan breathed hot, venomous vapors from his nostrils as he wielded his sword with colossal (enormous) lethal force; yet each strike was deflected with such maddening equanimity. With no visible signs of strain or slowing down, both Svein and Stark kept up with their consistent fighting and superb assault and offensives.
Blast! Brandt seethed (fumed) considering this chink
(unexpected turn) in his otherwise plausible plan. Duan should have bested them by then or at
least weakened them, but the fiend had finally met his match.
~
Stark
had detected (been aware) the precise moment Brandt had regained consciousness
(lucid state) then later still, noted latter’s subsequent deception (the
façade). Mulling over the possible reasons Stark had kept a furtive eye on
Brandt while he fought on then, deferring this concern for the more impending
ploy, at a specific point in time drawing near to Svein, Stark shouted out a
foreign sounding word to him.
Following Svein’s barely discernible nod (his
acquiescence) the swift coordinated assaults executed with such brilliant
exactitude, once more forced Duan to shift to the defensive. Whilst he was
being kept at bay, at an opportune moment at lightning speed Svein and Stark
exchanged their weapons.
Presently,
with his innate agility and speed, wielding the ancestor sword, Svein became
even more indomitable (invincible).
Temporarily cast in dire straits, Duan summoned his most intrinsic
powers and incredible zeal, however, to just barely stand his ground.
When
the fighting eventually drew closer in proximity to Brandt, taking advantage of
the fact that Duan’s total attention was focused on fending Svein and Stark’s
synchronized, choreographed attacks, Brandt
nimbly sprung to his feet and rushed forth to with a lightening thrust bury his stiletto (blade) deep into
and up Duan's back.
"Damn
your treachery!” Duan’s rancorous side glance pinpointing Brandt, he gasped. “You’ll pay for this!” he licked the blood
trickling from the corner of his mouth; but his malicious intent was
interrupted when Brandt nimbly veered,
and instead, Svein’s deadly strike finding its mark, cut a line clear across
(sliced right through) Duan’s chest and stomach. Duan staggered on his feet for a second, then
fell to the ground lifeless, his eyes bulging open and his mouth gaping with
curses still frozen on his lips. Covered
in blood, his innards dangling, he looked (represented) a most gruesome
sight.
Brandt with his bloody stiletto still poised to
strike, in a surprise move just then, had adroitly jumped back way clear of the
circle of combat and stood there defensively facing Svein.
"What's
the meaning of this?” Stark raged at Brandt, effectively blocking Svein’s
scathing rebuke.
"Let
me finish him off, Uncle; his ruse is too obvious."” Svein glared at
Brandt. I’ve met him before, on my last
trip to town, and trust me on this; he is no friend but a foe.”
"Sir, I beseech you. Hear what I have to say, before condemning me." Brandt interposed in a respectful, yet forceful tone, facing Stark while monitoring Svein from the corner of his eye. His conciliatory gesture of throwing his weapon aside at odds with his wry grin, he now grumbled. "Please allow me this opportunity to explain."
"Speak
up, then!” Stark shouted sternly (austerely).
With
a great show, Brandt bowed then crossed his clenched fists across his chest in
show of humility, knowing that Stark, an honorable man by reputation, would not
harm or allow another (Svein) to bring harm to an unarmed man.
(END OF SECTION 6)
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