Giant Little Part 2

Giant Little: An Adventure

By Marilynn Stark (Aunt Marilynn)

Part Two

Recapitulation:

As the adventure story continues, the Battle of Bohan is about to take on a secondary place of happening. Giant Little, Drona and his masters and the two messengers are bravely holding out in Municipal Woods in Arbor Park adjacent to the town governing complex. The two heroic messengers wait for the battle to break in favor of their safe delivery of the messages to the Council of Elders in the town as the Grandmaster Drona skillfully leads his martial arts masters in their ultimate defense. Drona poses as non-violent a resistance as possible in defense of the messengers so as to tactically quell the uprising Durydon poses. Giant Little has been shown by him a secret tunnel which will lead the heroes safely to the Municipal Building when nightfall arrives if all goes well, since B. Tiger, the psychic Chienne and their respective troops are presenting an encroachment in their plan to confiscate at least the messages if not the messengers, as well. Chienne, the wizard, is in secret possession of a magic potion which will kill instantly on contact with the skin, and only Drona and Giant Little know of this new development which came out of Chienne's alchemy. Durydon is thriving on the political rumor that he is disabled due to remarkable injury earlier in the day when Giant Little and the great dragon had fought him at the exit trail to the runway leading to Strong Pond. Little do the townspeople know that Durydon is actually descending now from Cherry Ridge several miles past the town limits and south of Bohan Pass; at this pass Cherry Ridge converges closely with Cobble Ridge. Up on Cobble Ridge the great, historic Arch General Borders has been making battle plan to obstruct what is now threatening the town and all of Bohemia, indeed; Durydon is attempting to take any hostages necessary in order to overthrow the plans to write a contract in the favor of a music concert by our great-armed hero, Giant Little, the weaponless warrior of truth. Durydon will then try to seize the governing complex of the town of Bohan, and he is unaware that Arch General Borders has been studying him in his hiding place up on Cobble Ridge.

Borders is just about to leave with his thirteen infantrymen for the valley that lies between the two ridges, Honey Valley, where he will give resistance to Durydon's encroachment. At Bohan Pass closer to the town limits there are five men of Borders already posted for defense, and they conducted a decoy signaling to two of Durydon's scouts as they passed southward through the pass earlier in the day on their way with a report for Durydon. It is thought by Borders that if the enemy fails in the town to prevent the delivery of the two messages, they will retreat towards Bohan Pass in false show, hoping to regroup with Durydon and take a new phase of battle into their hands in overthrowing the town government and confiscating its coffers. There is no telling how far the wicked Durydon will carry forth his concept of making an example out of the town of Bohan not only to prevent the concert from ever happening there but also perhaps even to make the town an open hostage point ultimately for his use in overthrowing all of Bohemia and taking over the nation's government itself. Durydon is attempting to make a comeback from having lost his famous hostage, Radhita Roundhouse, daughter of the prime minister of Liberty Love Forest, Ker Roundhouse, whom Catster and Giant Little had so bravely rescued. Arch General Borders is well stocked with five troops mobilizing north well ahead of him and his thirteen infantrymen plus two scouts who await his descent down the ridge along Miner's Side Trail. These five moving north ahead of time should probably join the four troops in the command of General Chittling at Bohan Pass.

The success of this battle will have drastic effects on the security of Radhita, Giant Little's own beloved wife-to-be. If Durydon succeeds in blocking the concert, then there is less hope for closer ties to be made between her father's nation of Liberty Love Forest and Bohemia. If Durydon also succeeds in taking the town of Bohan itself hostage, then Giant Little fears that the battle to keep Radhita safe will escalate, as well. The victory for the side of good in this Battle of Bohan cannot be measured in its ultimate importance towards the destiny not only of Giant Little and Radhita towards one day marrying, but all of the nation is held in suspense. Indeed, the destiny of all of the nation is suspended to the Battle of Bohan. This war torn nation has for too long born the terror, the reign of crime of the rebel Durydon, the black-clad outlaw who shows no face in any hall of justice ever, yet who takes prisoners and keeps them in prison camps up in the hinterlands of Bohemia with no existing hope to ever return. Oh yes, they might return, alas, as miserable, mercenary rebels who have no choice but to bend to his cruelty and take indoctrination and training for an attempted rebellion. Now is the chance, now is the hope that his power will be immeasurably challenged and weakened.

Word that Arch General Borders has come back into active duty in the military is about to reach the streets of Bohan by a local town crier. As the fate of the town of Bohan sits on edge, the great Arch General Borders fearlessly and methodically leads his men to defend the values, the peace, the people, the nation together: this is a great forging of justice towards the security of all if Bohan is kept free and peaceful through this memorable Battle of Bohan.

Chapter 10

Border Park, which is visible from Bogdhan Bogdhan's back porch on 10,000 Small Street in the town of Bohan, is home of a central square where the town criers usually begin their rounds throughout the town at various meeting points where the people can expect to hear them deliver the news. Bogdhan's maid happened to be on the third story porch that day in the late afternoon where she was watering and preening the hanging plants. The park was only about one hundred feet from her view, and Bogdhan had once told her that hearing the news each day was quite an easy task since the porch made the crier's square quite available for easy listening. In this place there was actually a platform for the town criers. Surrounding the platform were plants and shrubs geometrically arrayed in a small square at the borders of the area where people might gather. There were even lanterns which could be lit up at night for late-day reports in times of critical news.

As Miss Peters heard the beginning of the loud, vibrant voice of the town crier that was so familiar to her ears, chills were sent up and down the skin of her arms and legs. This told her immediately that the danger in the town that day had not passed, and she dreadfully feared report of another robbery or hostage-taking event. The rumor that Durydon had been disabled due to injury in battle had taken root in the minds of the townspeople although the town crier had not reported upon it as of yet; this meant that it was probably not official. She heard the loud voice proclaim, "Hear ye, hear ye! Hear ye, hear ye! Gather 'round and hear the next round: history walks. Hero returns! Hear ye, hear ye! Hear ye, hear ye, oh brave people of the town of Bohan! Gather 'round and hear this! Now hear this! History now walks! Our hero returns! Come hear. Come here. Brave people, fear not! Now hear this! Borders' prophecy comes true! As he said of old, he will ride again with clouds in his hair! He now rides again! Bohemian history has been made on this day as we are told: Arch General Robert Borders' prophecy comes true! Hear ye all this, for 'tis true. Arch General Borders rides again. Arch General Borders is back to defend the nation and to defend the town of Bohan after the robbery of the Wheightski's Jewelry Store earlier today. Borders is back! He is back -- I tell you this: the new head of the National Army of Bohemia is now none other than our fearless and great Arch General Borders! He will ride again! He rides again! The clouds are in his hair! He rides again! Rise up and greet your national hero, send letters and welcome our great hero back into active service again! Fill the runways and send word to all of your friends and relatives far and wide. Start now! Fill the runways! Now hear this! Bohan will be saved from B. Tiger and his outlaw gang; Bohan will be saved by Arch General Borders and his men. Bohemia! Raise the national flag on your houses! This is the first report of this news. Spread the word, brave citizens, give the good word all throughout the town. Borders is back! Arch General Borders is back now! Hear ye, hear ye, good people of Bohan! Borders is back!"

Miss Peters upon hearing the news of the town crier stood as if in mental suspension. All of her thoughts were nulled. She stood motionless and wide-eyed after hearing of the miracle of the return of history's great General Borders and knew not what to do or say for a full three minutes. The crowd below in the park began to cry out loud and send cheers into the air; although she could hear the uproarious sound very well, her state of awareness was temporarily altered by the profound news which she was trying to believe. She watched vaguely as the town crier left his stand and began his walk to the next station on his rounds. Suddenly she broke the silence with a loud cry which resounded over the crowd. She uncontrollably yelled out, "Long live General Borders! Long live Bohemia!" Everyone could hear her message above the verbal commotion of the small crowd, some of whom were beginning to disband as the town crier was making his departure. It seemed that they wanted to follow him to his next stand if only to hear the momentous news once again. A young man in that crowd caught onto Miss Peters' message and cried out as loudly as he could, "Long live General Borders! Long live Bohemia!" Soon everyone was joining in and clapping to the rhythm of the words, and this included Miss Peters. As she stood on the porch and joined the crowd below with those words, Miss Peters realized that a miracle had just occurred. The unity of the voices of the crowd with hers was helping her to accept the miracle as real, and this she knew. Miss Peters became jubilant. As she stood on the porch of one of the heroes of the Battle of Bohan, though the fact of that heroism of Bogdhan remained unknown to her, she felt a special presence as a citizen. Once she accepted more fully the profound weight of the news of the return of Robert Borders to active military duty, her unity with the very first recipients of that news from her vantage point above the central square uplifted her and conferred upon her a special message. Miss Peters leaped from an awestruck, disbelieving mind to a mental state replete with a joyous heart; indeed, she was suddenly absorbed in a long-sought hope for actual deliverance from the tyranny, the ever-growing tyranny, of one Durydon, whom she despised and feared. Suddenly, she wanted to go down to the crier's square and join the crowd. Then she began to think that there was still work to do, but that she must leave a note for Bogdhan regarding this momentous event. Family duty also called her in this grave matter of the Battle of Bohan. When that idea occurred to her, she swung on her heel and went back inside the apartment to find some paper and a pencil so as to do her duty in spreading the word and gain clearance to leave immediately for her family. Although she knew that Bogdhan was indeed a messenger, and he therefore would be likely to have heard of the news event she was about to disclose to him upon his return, she figured that there was a chance that the news was simply too recent for him to have heard. He might be en route home and not even hear, she thought to herself, and she wanted to be the first one to tell him if at all possible. Miss Peters valued knowing Bogdhan Bogdhan. She could read his courageous and noble heart in the way he carried himself and in the way he spoke. The very tone of his voice exuded compassion and a certain knowingness which was already consoling before any issue might be broached. Therefore, any conversation which Miss Peters had ever had with Bogdhan regarding the contentious civic unrest and the politics which matched that unrest had always been most vibrant and giving to her own political outlook and hope for her nation. Her admiration for Bogdhan she could not hide from him when they spoke of the matters of the day on those rare occasions when he happened to be home while she cared for his apartment. Now she wanted to write him a note to tell him of the moment in history of which she had learned while on his back porch; in her mind this moment was an act of Providence. She sat down at the table in the kitchen and began a careful note to Bogdhan, which read as follows:

My Dear Mr. Bogdhan Bogdhan:

It is my heartfelt duty to be the one to inform you. A miracle has just been delivered you, me, all of us in our town, and all the citizens of the nation of Bohemia. You may not believe this. I could not at first. However, I heard the very first town crier's report just now. It is the return to active military duty of none other than General Borders. History walks. This news came to me as if from on-high as I was preening your plants on the back porch here at 10,000 Small Street. You may have heard this by now, you may not have heard this, as only God knows; however, he is back. Long live Borders! Long live Bohemia! Please forgive me, I must go to my house and see the family as soon as possible. I have a relative in the army, and there might be special news for me there if they had any inside word before the public was told. He might be here at this battle, and I am concerned to know that he is alright. Please understand, and I will be back tomorrow to finish the work here. Oh, let us thank God! Now there is hope. And God keep you safe, for you are a great, noble servant in the cause of freedom from this tyranny. We all know that. Stay safe. I must go.

Yours in faith,

Miss Peters

Roberta placed the note for Bogdhan underneath a paper weight she had seen sitting on the writing desk. She took the key to the apartment out of her pocket, said a brief prayer for her safe walk home to her family, and then left the apartment. As she locked the door behind her, she had a sense that she would indeed be back tomorrow, which she had briefly doubted while writing the note to Bogdhan. What if the town police had to institute a twenty-four hour curfew, if the horrible gangs of Durydon threatened even more crimes and violence? She had considered this ominous threat; indeed, most of the townspeople had probably asked themselves the same question -- such doubt for the peace and security of Bohan lingered so much in the air that it was as readable as the temperature was to be physically felt. Moreover, in that case, she would not be free to travel on the streets and finish her cleaning tasks at 10,000 Small Street. Most of the townspeople were not informed of the exact specifics of the ongoing battle nearby the municipal government buildings in the town, so only a general level awareness of trouble due to the robbery of the jewelry store had directly gripped the people. Having gained courage from the news of the return of the great hero of Bohemia, Robert Borders, to active military duty, Miss Peters now began to weigh the situation of the immediate battle more minutely. Perhaps, she began to muse further, the entire town was in a greater jeopardy than that which was being vaguely implied to them, and this made her circle back in her mind to her concern for the security of her brother, a sergeant in the National Army. "Oh, no!" Miss Peters thought as she walked down the stairs towards the ground floor of the apartment building. "My brother might be killed if there is a bigger battle in the offing here than what we are being told. If Borders is needed, then this might just mean that a bigger problem exists right here in Bohan which requires his service. I am so worried -- I hope mother has news for me. I hope she knows something. I just wonder. I know Bogdhan won't mind when he sees that I left without finishing the work. He will understand. Oh, dear God, keep us all safe, and please, I beg you, don't let my brother be hurt or killed. Please, we love him, dear God. Keep Bohan safe. Oh God, thank you for returning Borders to active duty! Save us! Save us from Durydon! Dear God, I implore you, give us back our peace."

With that fervent prayer for peace, Miss Peters had the courage to begin her walk home to her family. As she left the building at 10,000 Small Street and walked out to the street, much to her surprise a runner, a messenger from Bogdhan's unit, was approaching her at a good pace. Miss Peters observed this with a careful detachment since she was afraid that the runner would be a kidnapper in disguise at first. When the runner slowed down and stopped opposite her, he read her doubt and fear, pulled out from his pouch a badge which identified him to her as a paramilitary and calmly said, "Are you Miss Peters?"

"Yes, I am Miss Peters," she answered with less uncertainty in her mind now that she had seen the badge and had studied the face of the runner.

"Allow me to escort you home if you will. My name is Roger Flutemacher, and I am here on the formal command of the army to make safe your return home from Bogdhan Bogdhan's apartment. May I?" he said with a formality as he offered her his arm. At this gesture Miss Peters was assured, and also she drew the conclusion that Bogdhan must be involved more deeply in the current state of affairs, or he would have been the one to escort her home. An escort home by Bogdhan she would have preferred, yet she was most relieved to be offered the escort at all. Miss Peters nodded her head once and took the arm of the escort. As they began to walk down Small Street, Miss Peters decided to keep quiet about the news of the return of General Borders to active military duty unless Roger Flutemacher mentioned it first. She felt that there must be some hostile gang people in the area, or else she would not have been offered this escort at all. In that case, she wished to keep as neutral an air as possible about their brief walk for security's sake. There were people all about the street, and the atmosphere had now become mixed with what seemed to her to be a latent jubilation alongside the same dire trouble which had hovered in the air earlier in the day before the news of the return of Borders. Miss Peters noticed that her escort was most formal and silent, and he kept a vigilance which she did not want to interrupt. Together they walked the ten minute walk to her house in guarded silence and when they arrived at her doorstep safely, she bowed her head, smiled, and thanked the gentleman for his protection. With no further word at all, the runner stepped briskly apart, bowed a deep bow, and then took on a distant look of further service in his soldier-like manner; he turned his head towards his next destination, steeled himself for possible conflict, she could see, and finally put his running step forth with a sudden and powerful surge of determined energy. Miss Peters felt a chill in her legs as she witnessed this display of duty and manly strength on the part of her protector. She savored watching Roger Flutemacher course down the street in his fashion. As she turned her head towards the door of her house, she sighed a huge relief that she was home and safe. Her heart swelled for the defense of civic peace the runners were wielding. From the manner of the departure of the one who had just possibly saved her from harm did she read his unmistakable mind -- he knew of the return of General Borders to national duty. Previous to such realization she had wanted to have been the first one to have informed Bogdhan of this historical event through her note to him, but now she knew for certain that such an honor would not and could not be hers. As she let go of that desire, she went up the steps of her house and prepared to see if there was any news of her dear brother. This had been an eventful day for her and for all of the town. How the nation would be affected, she reflected, time only would tell. With bated breath she entered her abode. Miss Peters just did not know how endangered she truly had been, for she did not know that Bogdhan was a central player in the current battle in the town. Now that she had been delivered safely home, she began to think that perhaps she would not be able to return to Bogdhan's apartment on the morrow for security's sake -- there had been dispatched a runner to escort her home on this day. She was accustomed to the uncertainty of the tranquility of the town as were all the townspeople. She shrugged off the doubt accordingly and decided to put first things first and find out any word of the situation of her brother.

Miss Peters took out her house key and entered the place with her mind at once rested in the secure passage she had just been given while she was further apprehensive about the status of her brother. Her mother had heard her open the door and was eager to tell her the news of the Battle of Bohan. She appeared to her daughter at the end of the hallway. Holding her head back slightly as if to assess the readiness of her daughter to take in the report, she lent the beginnings of a smile to give her assurance that the news was good. "Roberta, my dear daughter," began Mrs. Peters, "Your brother Trevor is stationed here at the Battle of Bohan. No other information has been given us."

Roberta read the calm in her mother and took great meaning from her placid mind. She carefully replied, "I have news to give you, also, in case you have not heard."

Mrs. Peters seemed not to register what her daughter had said as she was anxious to get to the broader point. She quickly said, "I have the note he sent us by carrier pigeon from the army depot. You can read the brief message if you like." Roberta then saw her mother's mind become less certain as she knitted her brow.

" I don't quite understand it all as of yet," she cautiously continued. "There is something cryptic about it. The pigeon seems to have been delayed for a day or the better part of a day. Please come and see. It is in the kitchen on the table. It awaits us."

"I can't wait to see this, Mother," Roberta said, dismissing the news she was about to divulge regarding the fact of General Borders' return to active military duty; instead, she deferred to her mother's chief concern as to the meaning of her brother's message. Roberta watched as her mother started to pour over the little tag of white paper on the kitchen table. She decided to intervene, seeing that her mother had born this puzzle as to the cryptic message all alone for what must have been the past few hours. She could not wait to help her interpret the message from her brother. "Perhaps," Roberta thought to herself, "the fact of the return of the great Robert Borders is reflected somehow in the word from my brother. Just maybe I can help here. Poor Mother is deeply perplexed and seems worried. I wonder what it says."

"Mother," Roberta said softly. "Let me help you in this. Please give me the message so that I can read it."

Mrs. Peters looked over at her daughter and smiled briefly. She quietly handed the small paper to her daughter and nodded once. Roberta read at first to herself the following words: "On duty at hometown battle. White clouds riding here head-ward." Immediately Roberta knew that her brother was telling of the return of Borders to duty as head of the army. "Oh! I see what he means, Mom. This is news of the return of -- well, Mother, I have to tell you something so that you will be able to understand this."

"Yes," answered Mrs. Peters. Her tone of voice was rather even as she reacted in passing to the statement of the obvious from her long-awaited daughter. However, there was a distance in her mind from the simple affirmative word she had spoken; it was as if she had already known that somehow her daughter would bring this cryptic message into some kind of concrete perspective. Roberta read this in her mother. She gave a slight nod of the head to her deeply concerned mother if only to lend the assurance she needed and was gaining as she shared the puzzle before them.

"Well, do you remember the time I came home from school and told you about our Bohemian history class and our study of the military conquests of General Borders?" Roberta asked her mother as she prepared her for the momentous news.

"Well, yes. I do remember that. You had to do a report. You received an A on that report as I remember. I was very proud of you," her mother replied.

"Well, I had concentrated on the prophecy of Borders that he would one day return to active military duty. That was the topic to which I had been assigned as you may also remember. I was picked out of the entire class for that interesting topic, and I labored over it. Remember?" Roberta asked her mother. "Do you remember how I had searched for any signs or evidence of that prophesy of Borders in our national history and on our political stage?"

Mrs. Peters quickly started to see what was now happening concerning the Battle of Bohan. She lifted her hand to signal Roberta to keep silence and let her talk. "Wait! 'White clouds riding here . . . . ' Do you mean to tell me that Trevor refers to none other than General Borders?" she blurted out with astonishment.

"Yes, that is it," Roberta answered briefly. "He had said, 'I will ride again with white clouds in my hair.' That had he prophesied when the enemy surrendered to him the final time in the Great War."

"No! That cannot be happening! That is too good to be true. I had thought you were wasting your time on that report although I never let on to you, Roberta," Mrs. Peters intimated. "Do you mean to tell me -- this is an act of God! 'White clouds riding here -- head-ward.' Trevor was trying to tell me that Borders is back, indeed. That never occurred to me. I could not see it. But further, Borders is in charge of the Battle of Bohan," Mrs. Peters stammered with a half-believing comprehension.

Roberta watched as her mother expended effort in trying to accept this news of her son and of the security question regarding the town. She waited patiently for her mother to think it over before she would divulge the news that the town crier had already told of this day in history. Finally, Mrs. Peters humbly admitted that she had been perplexed for good reason. She said hesitantly yet facetiously, "Well, now I know why this is not a weather report my son sent us. No, it is not about the weather at all. No wonder I was so puzzled by this. I could not figure it out. I thought that perhaps the battle was delayed due to rain, that the weather was in charge of that destiny. Or, I thought that perhaps he was not confident of his commander in the battle, and that had caused me to worry a little. I have spent almost the entire day mulling this over. I could barely get anything done around here. Now I see what he means," Mrs. Peters told her daughter. Then she looked at her directly and with deep compassion said to her, "But I never once broke your belief that General Borders could in actuality return to service as I felt you needed to think the best of your country in the face of all of the changes for the worse in which you were growing up, Roberta. I confess that to you now. I let you have your moment in the history class. That is how I privately viewed it. I cherished the hope that prophesy had given you as much as I cherished your profound sense of scholarship when you approached the assignment. I wanted the times to be better for you, but there was no way for me to just change the world for you."

"Yes, well, the town crier himself was out just before I left my last stop today. I heard him myself. He has announced this news of the return of Robert Borders not more than two hours ago, Mother dear," Roberta replied forthrightly, placing the wider perspective of her mother's world view in its place in the past.

Mrs. Peters remembered at that moment through the way her daughter spoke with a kind of authority how bright she had been as a student, and how disappointed she was that she had not gone on to further education after high school. This moment of remarkable news made that realization all the more painful for Mrs. Peters, and she tried to soften her own pain by saying softly to her daughter, "Well now, Roberta, I will have to look into a way for you to further your education after all. Trevor may distinguish himself in the military, but that is also a paying position. It is an advantage young men have over young women in this society. I will have to see what can be done for you. I am going to try to find a new way for you."

"Yes, but we do not know what will happen to Trevor in this battle and in his entire career in the army. Things are not too certain for him, and I do not envy that. I would not want to be in his shoes at all. I can take the difference between us as to career accordingly. Also, what if I were to fall in love with one of my clients, Mother?" Roberta asked after giving her mother a return consolation.

Mrs. Peters immediately became concerned for her daughter, placing the question of her son's fate in the growing civic unrest aside. She tended to her daughter with the deepest concern, and said, "What do you mean by that? Is that the client whose first name is the same as his last to whom you refer? Is he ever there when you clean his apartment? Do I have to teach you propriety all over again?" Mrs. Peters inquired.

"Now wait, Mother. He is almost never there when I am there. But I think I love him. I have met him. Twice I have met him over the past year," Roberta replied respectfully. "He has made a lasting impression on me," she added with a respectful matter-of-factness.

"I see. What makes you think you love him? Is he a true gentleman?" Mrs. Peters demanded to know.

"I felt it today again as I wrote him a note saying that the town crier had reported on the return of Borders. I had to leave there before my work was finished. I sensed trouble on the streets, and I needed to know if Trevor had sent word and if you had heard the news. Sure enough, I was right. Mom, do you know what just happened?" Roberta asked with an urgent need for approval for her decision not to finish the work at Bogdhan's apartment.

"Now wait. I asked if he is true gentleman or not, and you are avoiding it. Yes?" Mrs. Peters was adamant to know the facts as to her daughter's proper social comportment.

"Mother, yes. He is more than that. He is a noble man, besides, and I love him for it. I admire everything about him, and he is very respectful of me. I confided in him that I still want to attend the music conservatory and succeed past my current lot. Now that is all. His manners are impeccable, you can be assured," Miss Peters dutifully conveyed the facts accordingly to her worried mother.

"Well, that is prudent. I think that you should be pleased that you have met such a fine young man in your workday. Perhaps through him and others like him you can gain some support for your aspirations to study music as you need to do," Mrs. Peters encouragingly said to her daughter. She had read her daughter very closely so as to see if she was telling the truth or not, and Roberta had passed the test. "Now, what did you refer to? What had happened as proof of your security or lack of it?" Mrs. Peters wanted to know further. "Did Bogdhan walk you home?"

"Oh, that is what I had wished! You know me, that is for sure. No, one of his cohorts, a fellow runner named Roger Flutemacher, gave me his arm just outside Bogdhan's building and said he had been ordered to escort me home. He was most formal. We did not speak, and the streets were alive with excitement. I read both danger in the air and excitement over the news of the re-appointment of Robert Borders as head of the army," Roberta divulged anxiously to her mother.

"I see. Now tell me, did you have any way of identifying this escort? Was he in uniform? How did you know that you were not being kidnapped? Now you have to be careful in these times. The neighbors two houses down from here, whom I do not know very well, unfortunately, just reported their daughter as missing to the police. I worry about you," Mrs. Peters said with an ominous tone that consoled her young daughter and allayed her fears. The way of organized crime to terrorize the citizenry of Bohan was now embedded in the society nationwide, and parents were not certain of the future for their children. Attendance at colleges had gone down noticeably, and many young men were joining the army after leaving high school instead of seeking a higher education directly. The people were gripped in fear of the growing crimes and of the growing illicit army of rebels which the terrible Durydon was building. "Now tell me exactly what happened," the astute Mrs. Peters required of her daughter.

Roberta was passing all of the tests with her mother, and sighed an audible sigh of relief that she would pass scrutiny on this point, as well. "I immediately saw that I could be in a situation over Bogdhan's apartment since he is connected. I suspected the runner when he approached me because of it, and I held back from him at first. He did not dare speak to me until he had shown me his badge. So he identified himself, alright," she said.

"I see, so you put him off with your manner, and not with words?" Mrs. Peters demanded to know.

"Yes," Roberta said briefly in answer to her mother's closer scrutiny.

"Do not be afraid to speak up for yourself. But then again, did you talk on the way at all about the current affairs?" Mrs. Peters then queried with an imposing pressure on her daughter.

Once again, Roberta felt vindicated. She savored telling more of her recent experience as she reported with a duty-mindedness to her mother, "No. I felt that it would be best to keep an air of neutrality. I fear spies and hidden gangsters, Mother. I did not feel it appropriate to talk at all. I was concentrating on the task at hand, and that task was getting home safely. I just wonder if Bogdhan himself had sent Roger Flutemacher. Do you think that he could have sent him?"

"No, I don't think that Bogdhan is at a commander's level, or he would be living on a military compound somewhere. As much as you might like to fancy that idea, no. But that doesn't mean that he did not suggest it, or recommend it to his superior, though," Mrs. Peters conjectured so as to coddle her daughter.

"I am so relieved to have told you that I have a special love for Bogdhan. I wanted so desperately to be the one to have told him of the return of Robert Borders to the service of our nation again. However, he apparently must know," Roberta confided to her mother.

"Yes, well we have to watch out for your safety now that things have escalated here in Bohan. I wonder if it is even advisable for you to return to Bogdhan's apartment until the battle is finished here. I am going to have to consult your father on this, Roberta," warned Mrs. Peters.

Roberta was expecting this kind of caution in her mother and was at one with it. She quickly replied, "I felt the same way when I was considering going back there tomorrow or not. I am worried although I want to see him again. I do not want to lose my position there. I am now officially in love. I have told you. I feel I would risk my life for him."

Mrs. Peters considered the conversation closed, but she made one last point in an off-handed manner: "Yes, I would know that. But it won't matter if we decide that you are to retreat from his place until things renormalize. Here we will make the decision for you, or you might do something rash, I fear."

Roberta gained a slightly far-off look in her eyes and said in a lesser tone, "Yes, I might be in danger. But not next to my hero, Bogdhan. He is remarkable, most remarkable. He is one of a kind."

Mrs. Peters observed with interest the mind of her young daughter who had finished her public school education at the level of high school just five years previously. She was now concerned that if Roberta married soon, she would never enter the music conservatory. As she was reflecting on her daughter, Roberta excused herself and went to the back of the house so as to be alone and find out more of the spirit of the town from the back porch. As she sat down to muse on the neighboring houses and on the street which was partly visible to her, she remembered the event which had occurred when she took in the news of the town crier regarding the return of Robert Borders to military duty in Bohemia. She had guarded herself against the close questioning of her mother and had been careful not to mention that she had started the cheer of, "Long live Borders! Long live Bohemia!" while on Bogdhan's back porch. For a few moments she revelled in that secrecy from her watchful mother, and then she realized that her mother had not even believed in the great general at the level of believing also in his prophecy. This realization caused her to feel a slight vindication that she had led the crowd or had helped lead the crowd with her chosen words. She reviewed her memory to find if she had had any indication from her mother of such disbelief in Borders' prophecy, and simply could not find any. Although she did not consider her mother dishonest in any way for this, she measured herself against the recent event of history's proportion as closer to the truth than was her beloved mother. For this reason, Roberta decided that to have led the crowd in the cheer had been a sign that she was more in touch with the current events and with the politics of Bohemia than her mother in the most general sense; she prided herself accordingly.

Roberta sat and revelled in the greatness of General Borders whose new title of Arch General had not yet been established in his new day since his return. He was still thought of as 'General' Borders. How close to Bohan was he? How soon would she find out the role of the runner she so admired, Bogdhan, in the current situation with the arrival of such an important political personage as the daughter of the head-of-state of Liberty Love Forest in the nation of Bohemia? Radhita was known now among many as the one who had escaped her kidnapper, none other than Durydon. Roberta thought of her as the future wife of their Giant Little. Then she remembered having told her own mother of her incipient love for Bogdhan. Her heart swelled when she realized that she was gaining formal parental permission to perhaps be courted by this gentleman whose great civic conscience and heroic duty towards his nation Roberta admired greatly. Poor Roberta felt that she was not of the social standing to ever gain such a fine man in marriage as her opportunity in life had been limited by the lack of provision from her parents to provide her the continuing education which she had desired. Roberta's doubt gripped her at this thought. It was as if she were returning to reality. However, her talent as a pianist was unmistakably great; she decided that if ever there were an opportunity for her to continue her education, she would be chosen for music, and at that would she excel with ease. This musing undid the pain of her self doubt momentarily.

Roberta began to reflect on how she loved the manner and the soft yet masculine voice of Bogdhan. All of a sudden, there came a flash of light above the roof of the neighboring house not a hundred feet from the railing of the porch. Roberta had never seen anything like it. Before she had time to consider what it could possibly be Roberta watched this light transform into a solid form -- lo and behold, a magic carpet carrying someone whose figure was emanating a looming light came streaming summarily downward. Roberta's heart was beating quickly as she soon witnessed that strange magic carpet choose her own porch for a landing. There was a swooshing sound as the carpet zoomed over the railing of her porch. Then Roberta had the miraculous moment to view a living, incarnate angel, who sat briefly, so as to allow Roberta to register the real moment in which she was concentratively accepting the arrival of such a supernatural being. Roberta felt moved beyond belief and was totally immobilized both physically and mentally. She knew not what to think at this event before her. She stood and mindlessly gazed upon the most beautiful being whose understanding of her seemed total and implicitly assumed between them.

This was Angelina, now come to rescue Roberta to a better station in life, since her family had been so oppressed and limited during the times of the civic strife of recent years. Their family business, a shoe and baggage store in downtown Bohan, had been twice robbed over the past six years. Angelina stood up and smiled beatifically over at the awestruck maiden before her. Quietly she said to Roberta, "I hereby deem you as to your perfection in music as the most worthy recipient of an award for the furtherance of your education. You shall with this grant of monies I hold in my hand attend the Music Conservatory of Bohan for a full term of four years' at the expense of Providence, and this certificate of award will be held as redeemable at the named institution and will cover all expenses for the completion of your degree accordingly. Simply provide this bank statement and the funds arranged therein will be applied as against your further education as the godhead would allow and deem to be most appropriate for you in your unusual straits. With your God-given talents may you prosper life-long. My name is Angelina, I am your guardian, and I will see to your success and deliverance as this grant will with certainty provide."

Roberta stood spellbound and knew not what to do as she read her life in front of her -- it was slowly ascending to some expansive horizon of real opportunity with this unexpected visitor from on-high. She instantaneously saw beyond even the granting of the opportunity itself which was now before her, and into the results of the furtherance of her education did she glimpse and then rejoice. Her smile was broad, her spirit was soaring, and she just stood and admired the most placid and compassionate face of the loving angel before her astonished eyes. Angelina took more compassion for her human charge now and intervened with actual words to her for the handing over of the valuable document. Angelina in a voice which flowed with love and mercy in its very sound said so gently to Roberta, "Please take this bank check from my hand now and place it in a strongbox until such time as your acceptance at the music conservatory has occurred in the next two weeks. It is yours."

Roberta then accepted her simple yet all-giving task to actually appropriate that which was being conferred upon her from the majestic angel, and she stepped forward with deep reverence. She bowed her head deeply unto the angel which stood before her awestruck being. Then looked up and viewed Angelina in the eyes, showing her wonderment and gratitude with two incipient tears shining. She put out her right hand for the document from on-high, and Angelina nodded briefly as she handed it over to her. Roberta was jubilant in her heart; suddenly she heard the sound of a concert in the offing somewhere as if it were real somehow, but yet this concert could not be heard by any other than Angelina and herself; that she knew. She heard a magnificent flute in a duet with a grand piano, and this beatific music sent shivers through her body. Then there was a marvelous chorus of angelic voices which sounded in the distance; this chorus lifted her even more into the destiny before her even though that destiny was to be of course on earth. When the heavenly chorus sounded in some space not visible to the human eye yet which was cognizable to the musical mind and heart of Roberta Peters, so did the angel in front of her resume her sitting position on the magic carpet of deep purple hue. Following this did the magic carpet rise vertically to a height of about eight feet. Then the voice of Angelina could be heard just before the swooshing sound of its more total departure took place, and Angelina did say unto Roberta the following: "Hallelujah! May God bless you, your family and the nation of Bohemia, for you are so deemed. May mankind find peace. Peace be on Earth. May resistance be overcome, may oppression be conquered. All is well. Ever onward. Hallelujah." Roberta watched in absolute wonder as the angel flew on the purple carpet high into the sky and out of sight into the soft, distant white clouds. She grasped the document closely to her heart and held it there with all of her might, resolving in her mind to make the absolute best of the education in music which now stood before her. An almost lost goal, her desire to become a professional pianist and teacher of music which had slowly over time become some effete fantasy now sparkled as brightly in her blessed mind as the light which had first appeared and somehow evolved into a supernatural form, that of Angelina. The great angel had conferred upon her the blessing of her life. Now to tell her mother and father of this, Roberta thought, and give them the greatest news imaginable -- if it would indeed be imaginable at all to them. Then she gazed at the physical document in her hands and steeled her mind for the breaking of the news to her parents, for this was the actual physical counterpart of the redemption from Heaven direct. This redemption to a career was incontrovertible, indeed. Then she thought that on the day she had told her mother of her love for Bogdhan Bogdhan had this miracle had occurred. She thought to herself, "This must mean that I will indeed marry Bogdhan. This is the greatest moment of my lifetime. Thank you dear God, thank you for sending Angelina to me. She is my angel. I will be vindicated."

As the day progressed in Municipal Woods with the waning light, Bogdhan held fast to his place in the tree high above the grounds of the expansive park lands. Not a sound did he utter or make. His concentration upon the movements of the enemies in the surround was almost total, and he kept a guardian's vigil for his cohort in the neighboring tree branches. As the time stretched on, Bogdhan had quietly switched his position a few times to a small extent so as to refresh his muscles while at the same time finding a way to relax the grip of his hands. By finally sitting down on the medium sized branch as opposed to standing and gripping onto branches in his reach, he found a way to remain stable and firmly poised by crossing his ankles so as to lock his feet, which were now suspended in the air. On the climb up the majestic tree he had conceived of camouflaging himself with small, leafy branches. He therefore climbed a short distance higher than his chosen hiding spot to procure some such leafy branches, and he tucked them into his hat, clothing and running shoes as a measure designed for safer hiding. His partner across the air space had followed suit and had accomplished the same task as much as they had learned in their training in boot camp. As their wait in the trees stretched on, the silence seemed ominous. The birds were unusually quiet at the hour of this secret vigil, a vigil the brave warriors kept on the behalf of molding the battle drastically towards the side of good, the side of preservation and of peace. Bogdhan, thinking that his watch could not be total enough to rule out an encroacher, listened attentively for any sound of movement or of footsteps on the ground beneath. While contemplating the necessity of using both eyes and ears during his watch and wait, Bogdhan was turning over in his mind what strategy he could employ in the event that his hiding place might be uncovered. Drona was strategically courting nightfall as the time for the movement to the nearby government office of the messages in his battle command, giving adept resistance to the encroachment of B. Tiger, his men and Chienne to the area where he had hidden the messengers. Bogdhan felt therefore confident that such a turn of battle as being actually discovered would not be likely. He and Bob Stround were afforded such an elevated and remote locus by the trees. However, Bogdhan had to be ready for the worst situation in case it might arrive; nor was he aware of Chienne's possession of the deadly potion. A fight in a tree would most certainly be a desperate one, he reasoned. The height of 100 feet offered an encloistered niche for its time, and that time would prove itself only against the movement of the enemies on the field as they searched for him and his courageous cohort, Bob Stround. True, Bogdhan reasoned, it was true that the grandmaster and his masters gave their opposition to such enemy movement. If, however, the placement of the likes of Chienne and B. Tiger were to give way on the field to a close proximity to their well-hidden niche in the trees, then any advantage now gained by being aloft to the ground could be transformed into a liability to the danger of a scrimmage involving a dangerous free-fall. Bogdhan had carefully considered the extent of the tree remaining above his head for that reason, since with an extra amount of courage he could climb it and use the narrower branches to taunt any encroacher to an equal amount of courage if only to follow him. However, Bogdhan reasoned that his position as that of superior in elevation in an active fight would be his greatest advantage since anyone climbing the tree in order to access a dynamic challenge would be most totally at the mercy of having his hands stepped upon, his head kicked, and thus would he be dislodged from the tree itself. If flying weapons were to be employed, then the prospect of going higher might be worth considering, he thought. This prospect of weapons being hurled at him made Bogdhan realize that he should study the exact placement of the branches beneath him; heading downward along the tree trunk so as to be able to switch sides away from being targeted by knives, arrows, stars or bullets would be the most sensible way to fight, he thought. Knowing where each branch was positioned on the tree therefore was an important reflection for Bogdhan, and he frequently studied the topological features of the branches along the trunk for that reason. The rest of the time for Bogdhan was spent in trying to sense where the enemy was exactly located in the park. He and the other brave messenger carefully listened for any sounds of movement or fight. The trees all around them rustled gently in the mild breeze like the soft chorus of an accommodating ally collectively reminding that beyond the moments of dire battle and the threats of dire battle there was peace; there was peace beyond if only because the authority of protection had spoken that simple truth in the way that the world talks to the warrior beleaguered in fight. In that world where fight grips the being with portending might and cruelty there is a provision to be found -- the provision of protection and preservation up until there is no choice but to break the immediate peace and to fight. It takes true courage to see past the conflict itself, yet how great the shelter of the trees, Bogdhan reflected. That the wind could give the trees such a subtle voice only gave those trees greater presence in the situation which otherwise quietly threatened their lives and their vital mission to get the messages through to the town government. This realization on the part of the young hero of the provision of the trees in their collective spirit on the battlefield caused him to feel safe if not mighty like the trees. He fused now more deeply into the battle when he realized that any potential to be felled out of a tree in dire conflict was worth the risk when it was weighted against first being ever discovered, which consistently seemed to him to be unlikely. Bogdhan keenly made use of his visual access from such a superior vantage point so as to study a possible escape route. Unscathed, thought Bogdhan, unscathed would be the word of those leaves rustling in the breeze so harmlessly and informatively this day, this hour. At the right moment for him and his partner in battle a quick and quiet descent to the ground again, knowing the way to be clear: this became the silent plea for smooth victory. Such would be for Bogdhan a victory where knowledge of the placement of the troops on the field could allow a passive resistance to their intended violence. How powerful the repose of nature, Bogdhan thought, to provide such a dimension of cover as that of the trees, who seemed also to speak of peace as he prayed for peace in his deepest heart. Yes, he could fight, but he had intuited the sense of peace in the face of imposing conflict in the calm command of the great grandmaster, Drona. When Bogdhan caught onto that concept as he was being ushered up the tree by Drona much earlier in the battle, he was at first astonished somewhat by it. However, once that idea of a non-violent resolution at his end of the battle struck his mind, Bogdhan settled into it contemplatively as if it had been as much prophesied to him. That is the depth of Drona's command. Bogdhan had heard that Drona was most awesome as commander on the battlefield from fellow runners. The great Drona worked from a supernormal plane, performing miracles and magic readily and most usefully. Now was the lesson of Drona personally gripping Bogdhan, so that he understood better how it was that Giant Little had grown into such an unbelievable heroic person as under the tutelage of such as the likes of Drona. Suddenly, Giant Little made more sense to Bogdhan than ever before. Bogdhan was now experiencing the superior positioning he had gained by seeing Drona and by sharing real action on the field with him in capable charge from his vantage point of omniscience. Such omniscience made the fight ahead seem blessed with prescience so that to embrace the concept of non-violent resolution in the act of delivering the messages to their final destination was easy for Bogdhan. At this he rejoiced, although he was willing to fight and ready to fight. In Drona's vision of battle Bogdhan had read a most far-reaching ploy to direct the dynamics of the conflicts away from the terrible expressions of Durydon, and this became steadily more real to Bogdhan as he awaited nightfall. The greatest victory, sequestering the runners away from bloodshed, was now apparently unfolding. Such a transcendent viewpoint displayed the vision of a most gifted grandmaster, for this direction in war could lessen the very power of the enemy commander at the important juncture before them. How deep became the admiration of Bogdhan for the invincible Drona at this point in his heroic quest to help wrest the reins of terror out of the hands of Durydon with a directional force in battle like the one now seemingly before him. Bogdhan then turned his attention to the prospect of what Giant Little might do next; he had been made aware of Giant Little's presence and place on the field much earlier when they had exchanged camouflaged signals.

Suddenly there was a swoosh of light which went ineffably quickly through the air between the two trees which held the bold runners. This light was tear-shaped with a trail which seemed to taper off into particles of light, and the sheen of the light was at once bright and contained. As it shone forth it gave more of a message of presence and truth than sheer earthly light, since it did not shed itself upon its surround remarkably as it shone and traveled. Indeed, Bogdhan read into the unexpected packet of swiftly moving light the presence of a given spirit as if that spirit were individuated somehow. Before he could name in his mind the exact persona of Drona as that spirit whose presence seemed near, whose presence seemed at once concentrated in the dart of moving light while it was yet immanent everywhere in the verdant surround, Bogdhan witnessed the appearance of Drona as he slowly precipitated into a figure on the ground beneath the trees. Bogdhan was totally awed by this strange and miraculous event. He realized that Drona was revealing himself more fully to him in order to inspire courage and presence in this momentous battle now before him and more real than ever. The runner felt a surge of courage through his newly realized vision of how to proceed in getting the message to the town's governing group. Bogdhan's mind opened up to the task ahead now in view of this display of metaphysical truth by Drona, and his fear was diminishing steadily as he realized how powerful and magic Drona was proving to be. He saw no way or likelihood that the enemy could ever defeat their mission now that Drona was working from such an other-worldly plane which Bogdhan understood intuitively to be of the greatest universality possible. Reconnoitering according to the inestimably great realization that victory could only be theirs, Bogdhan now searched for his cohort in the neighboring tree. Wondering if he had also witnessed this mode of travel by Drona as he had, Bogdhan gained the courage to whisper in utter curiosity his query unto Bob Stround. "Bob, did you see that light-form pass here?"

Bob Stround also had the courage to answer in like whisper, "Yes. Six inches long. Like a wisp of light. I saw it!"

Bogdhan remained silent but more aware now that he had verified from his comrade this miraculous occurrence. He remained awestruck, knowing not what to say other than the sheer fact of the light; what of the incarnation, he thought to himself. "What exactly is this wonder of God? Bob saw it, too!" Bogdhan thought to himself.

"Drona arrives. Drona is now below us," Bob Stround said in answer to Bogdhan's reticence.

Then Bogdhan added, "I see. Let us see."

In the meantime, as he sat waiting in the cave, Giant Little was brought out of his meditative state by the indirect call of battle. Dusk was arriving. The boy wonder sensed that dynamic activity was in the offing. Upon asking of his commander, Drona, what to do, Giant Little was informed that the enemy was slowly encroaching. "Is there still time for us to effect a clear escape without direct fight despite their proximity to us?" he asked of the grandmaster. "Can we be evasive?"

"Nearly so. B. Tiger and company, Chienne, and my masters have been steadily contending for the upper hand on the field as they work their way towards the messengers here. There have been some critical losses for B.Tiger, so that our first initiative in battle is successful; we have weakened Durydon's potential prospects on this field by taking down some of B. Tiger's men. Their encroachment continues. They are very close to us now."

"Good. Your bait here nearby the cave has worked. This strategy is supreme. Down with Durydon, that wicked one, that horrible badman," Giant Little said in response to Drona's battle report.

Drona continued, "The two messengers have just been signaled out of their holdings in the trees. I am about to give them over to you for the finale. You will be able to start leading them safely to the municipal building very soon. First, we will get Chienne."

Thus came the critical telepathic message of Drona to Giant Little. For the first time, the actual delivery of the messages to the town officials was directly in sight. This approaching moment was for the incredible boy hero the most sublime moment in battle he had ever countenanced other than when he saved Radhita during the fight to free her from her two kidnappers. Giant Little took the fore with his revered karate grandmaster now, and to him he relayed the following response, "I am ready to mobilize now to the entrance of this tunnel, most honored one. I am at your watchful command. Down with Chienne."

"Good. You have time. The two messengers are descending quietly and steadily down from their roosts. Wait for my signals," came the next instruction of Drona.

Bogdhan was trying to be as quiet as possible as he descended from his tree. The winds had calmed down now. The light of day was dimming more and more as time slowly crept. His major challenge was not to make noise by the breaking of any small branches as he proceeded down the tree since he was fairly certain that B. Tiger and his men must be somewhere close by. How close he could only conjecture, but with the arrival of Drona a major message of imminent fight hovered somehow in the air. Moreover, Bogdhan reviewed how the crickets had stopped their sounding just as Drona had arrived as he did, and it sent goose bumps all over his arms and legs when he remembered that magical event, that curious flash-of-light display. Bob Stround was not as far down his respective tree as was Bogdhan Bogdhan, and Giant Little, having been signaled over to the vicinity of the messengers by Drona, was now hiding in the bushes nearby the holding trees. Gai anxiously awaited the two brave messengers. His chest swelled with excitement when he envisioned their feet actually touching the ground once again after all these hours of the commander Drona's most strategic sequestering of them. He performed a mental surveillance of the field in his mind's eye as he strived to find out where Chienne was now located. Chienne was the one to be most feared as the messengers approached the ground level, since the potion with which he was touting the messengers prospectively could wreak havoc upon them. Such havoc had the moment to affect the security of the entire nation and its neighbor, Liberty Love Forest. Gai realized keenly how Chienne's deadly weapon of biological warfare could cause panic for both nations now involved in the defeat of the revolutionary Durydon. Drona's entire enterprise in using the messengers as bait for Chienne was not only to disarm Chienne but also to forever vanquish him but for his possible use of such a terrifying chemical weapon. Giant Little reflected on the day he had witnessed the direct power of Chienne's potion to wither a small to medium-sized tree before his very eyes. He wondered if it could not wither also a towering tree. No longer would that matter for the purpose at hand, he reflected to himself; the timing of Drona in mobilizing the two runners would obviate any such test of the potion on the tall, majestic trees which had held the two heroes of the runways of Bohemia. At least the next few minutes would most likely tell how attuned were B. Tiger and Chienne to the field positioning of Bogdhan and Stround. That great boy hero, Giant Little, made two solid fists as that fact came to his mind, for he was clenching now to defend; he was preparing indeed to attack if necessary as much as he was preparing to lead the messengers to yonder cave in hopefully a more secretive way. For this kind of clandestine departure Giant Little had certainly bargained as he worked with Drona. One could never choose an option in battle to certainty, he reflected. One could only build options and hope for the best one to happen, since everything depended upon the knowledge of the enemy as the actual events gained their dynamic input on the field. The knower of the field, Giant Little reflected, was to become so fused with the field through that knowing that in the full face of action options would instantaneously pale to the mind. Decisions made before the events would now take on a meaningless stature. In such the aegis of a mind unified with the field of battle would the contenders on the field be subsumed under the transcendence of mind in time itself; the timing of actions would often display its meaning only as it actually occurred or might give signs which would gain significance before the fact of dire need in the dynamics of battle. More than once had Giant Little seen his very life spared in battle by unplanned moves on his part -- moves which had fused with the future for his own protection. This, he reminded himself, repeatedly set him up not to be taken by surprise. To thus supercede in the way of timing in fight is to master fight itself, conferring an immunity to the enemy. Such indispensable immunity could only baffle the enemy and bait him to blunder, perhaps. He prayed for Chienne's blunder here on the spot. Now he had gained the moment to fight Chienne, and he was ready for the worst. More than that, as Giant Little saw how totally dangerous the prowess of Chienne with his deadly chemical capabilities, he actually began to want to defeat him now out in the open if that configuration on the field became real before him. Giant Little was steadily gaining presence and readiness for the terrible enemies in the surround as he put to active use his knowledge of battle, a knowledge which all boiled down to the entities of the field and of the self. He straightened his back and centered his body on the field in front of him with more determination than ever now that he interfaced his mind to prevail past the deadly conquerors before him; he knew more than Chienne knew, he reminded himself. No enemy could fool him or catch him by surprise, and therefore, no chemical weapon could lend mastery to a mystical genius like Chienne. Chienne was only trying to be more real than the true masters by asserting his deadly potion. Giant Little knew that Drona had the powers to defeat such a ruse of reality as Chienne posed that day, since Drona broke reality down to the essence of matter in the first and most fundamental instance. Knowing these things, Giant Little stood ready, and he stood strong for the fight which was about to occur.