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.
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.
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.
 |
| TEUQU0B |
~
(END OF SECTION 5)
