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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. At these various meeting
places the people can expect to hear the delivery of 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
a few 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 Border Park news meeting 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 now 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 high the national flags
on your houses! This is the first report of this news.
Ever! 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!"
Upon hearing the news of the town crier, Miss Peters stood as if in
mental suspension. All of her thoughts were nulled.
She stood motionless with her eyes extended into a mindless gaze after hearing of the miracle of
the return of history's great General Borders. She 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
very 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. Lifting her arms to the sky as if
reaching for Heaven itself, she uncontrollably yelled out in
stentorian tones,
"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 just after the town
crier made 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 even 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 as if
from heavenly herald.
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.
How she despised and feared him. 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, or 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 all right. 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 though 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 my 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; 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 intuitive realization that Roger
Flutemacher knew of Borders' return, she had coddled once or twice
her desire to be the first one to have informed Bogdhan of this
historical event through her note to him; however, 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; her immediate, vital task was to find out any word of the situation of her
brother from her mother.
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 wide-eyed astonishment
as she started to comprehend the cryptic message from her
soldiering son.
"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, pausing to
catch her very breath through the excitement she was
feeling. Then she continued, "This is not some trifle
of rain upon us!"
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; elsewise,
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; she 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, all right,"
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 Roberta's mother was reflecting on her, 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. She sat down to muse on the neighboring houses and
on the street which was partly visible to her; in her privacy, 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 reveled 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 of her high
school history report to find if
she had had any indication from her mother of such disbelief in
Borders' prophecy at that time 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 and congratulated
herself that she had led the crowd just after the proclamation of
the town crier.
Roberta sat and reveled in the greatness of General Borders
whose new title of Arch General had not yet been established in
his new day since his return; nonetheless, the people who had long
believed in the prophecy of his return had informally called him
"Arch General" as if to lend that return credibility
through such an upgraded official title. Indeed, "Arch
General" had become some kind of informal nickname for him. He was still thought of as
'General' Borders, nevertheless. 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. Roberta's 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. Yeah, 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; she graciously 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. It is yours to be had, to be
held, and to secure your destiny forever more. You may marry
as to your heart's dictate therefrom. May the bells ring in
your favor, oh, you who are most worthy and talented."
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 she 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
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. Once darkness arrived,
it would be time for the movement
to the nearby government office of the messages in his battle
command. Once started, the delivery of the messages would
confer adept resistance to the encroachment of B. Tiger,
his men and Chienne to the area where he as commander of the
battle had hidden the
messengers.
Bogdhan felt confident that such a
turn of battle wherein he and his fellow messenger would actually
be discovered would not be likely; nevertheless, in the spirit of
success he steeled his nerves for that kind of confrontation as he
calmly reflected upon possible events. He
and Bob Stround were afforded such an elevated and remote locus by
the trees. Bogdhan, though he had to be thus ready for the worst
situation in case it might arrive, still remained unaware 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; indeed, 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. 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. In fact, anyone climbing the tree in order
to access a dynamic challenge would be most totally at the mercy
of having his hands stepped upon and his head kicked, and thus would
such any climbing enemy 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 as far as he could see 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; somehow, being discovered 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 a victory in Bogdhan's
conceptual cradle of peaceful resistance would be where knowledge
alone 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 sense of prescience in battle marks 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
since he had learned battle for righteous cause under the tutelage
of 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 Drona in capable charge from his vantage point of omniscience.
Drona's 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 relatively 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 even more terrible
expressions of Durydon, and this became steadily more real to
Bogdhan as he awaited nightfall.
The greatest victory for Drona as chief commander-- 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.
Even still, Drona wisely kept the threat of the deadly potion of
Chienne at a minimum by not relaying its reality to the two
messengers; this was Drona's strategy, for Chienne was thus being
deprived of the first level of power, the black magical level,
which he was trying to effect in deploying the potion as his most
prized weapon.
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. 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 queried quietly in his mind.
"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 the enemies 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 to avoid making 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.
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 in the loft afforded by the trees. 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 could wreak havoc upon
them prospectively. 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 the leaves of 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 commodiously held the two
great 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, Gai 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 mused, was to become so fused with
the field through knowing that in the full face of action
options would instantaneously pale to the mind. Decisions
made before the events would now take on meaningless
stature. In such as 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. Indeed, the timing of actions would
often display its meaning only as it actually occurred, or such
timing might
give signs which would gain significance just before the fact of dire
need in the dynamics of battle. Time thus transcended gives
courage and presence on the field as it softens the power of the
threat taken in the dire situational framework that is battle;
indeed, the greatest threat is the surprise attack, and being
transcendent to time removes that supreme threat.
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 one's 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 in the battle since Drona broke reality down to the
actual essence of matter itself 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.
As Giant Little reflected through his most readied
mind for the fight, he gained further the sense of need to find
any change of the positioning of Chienne on the field.
Suddenly, he realized that as of his last surveillance of the
field there had been what seemed to be a drastic change; indeed,
he was starting to see that Chienne was dangerously near, possibly
right at hand. Just as that realization came to Giant
Little's searching mind, he saw the actual mind of Chienne.
He started briefly at what he saw. Chienne was actually
checking on the position of Giant Little's station in the
bushes! Chienne, Gai so astutely perceived, was making sure
that Giant Little had taken in his previous projection of his own
positioning which was actually false -- it was a false position of
placement from which Giant Little had been working in his
understanding of the encroachment of Chienne. Chienne was
trying to fool Giant Little and Drona. Yet, how transparent
he really was, Gai thought to himself as he looked down on the
incomplete mind of such a quasi-master as Chienne. Chienne
did nothing but practice from the desultory viewpoint of one
possessed of the partial power of psychic ability turned to a
black magical purpose to destroy but for the sake of mind for evil
and power for ego. Gai thought to himself, "I have
something to show him. I am not afraid of him or of his
potion. I would sooner die than see him rise to demonic
stature as yet some villainous hero empowered to overthrow this
beautiful nation-state of Bohemia." At that moment,
Giant Little checked in with Drona; apparently, Drona had been
gently prodding Giant Little towards this level in fight wherein
Chienne would be at hand for a targeting. Whether this targeting
was to be offensive or defensive, Giant Little did not care.
He wanted only to conquer the horrifying wizard who threatened the
domestic peace of his beloved nation-state.
Giant Little communed now with Drona. "Drona, this
Chienne will personify the rise of the rule of evil if we don't
put a stop to his biological warfare."
Drona sent Giant Little his nod of affirmation, leaving aside any
thoughts which could be read by the black magician now contesting
for a central command via defeat of one Giant Little. Giant
Little continued his dialogue anyway. Even though he felt the moment of attack
coming inevitably soon, he said further to Drona, "I know
that this horrible wizard will set the day for the
rise of villainous heroism in this nation if we do not stop him
now. He will establish for all time to come the use of the deadly chemical weapon
he carries even as we watch him approach on the field.
Drona, I am ready to die for my country in this battle. We
cannot let that happen."
At that very moment, Giant Little felt the quaking of a huge rock in the woods which shook the very ground even as far as nearby where he himself, Giant Little, stood.
Drona was answering Gai's call in the battle, for he was deflecting Chienne from his proposed path of movement to the holding
trees. Chienne had been stalking the heroes of the runways, the two brave messengers who were about to descend the last forty feet down to the ground for their proposed
escape, for long enough.
As it happened, Chienne had in starts and stops over the last
couple of hours kept moving in a line on the field which bore the target of the two holding trees.
Stealthily now that it was night, the mad wizard Chienne aimed for
his finale; he moved across the moonlit ground ever more determined to prove his so-called genius in war.
The long, silver sword he wore at his hip gleamed silently, giving clear visual access to the invincible Drona who
secretly watched him from his post. At a certain point, Chienne came upon a rock which stood about five feet high and was broad enough to make an obstruction in Chienne's direct line of movement as he so quickly made his way to his two coveted targets not far ahead.
Chienne was bent on destroying the messengers. He was mobilizing now to take their very lives
with his magical potion which could kill almost instantaneously once it made contact with the skin or was breathed in.
Drona at this point regarded the rock as a tool, as one giant weapon to give the emboldened Chienne dire notice that his proposed targets
in the holding trees, Bob Stround and Bogdhan Bogdhan, would not even be
accessible to him. From where he stood, Drona could see the rock
sitting directly in Chienne's stalking line across the
battlefield; indeed, he had been contemplating it in the minutes before Chienne had
arrived this far. Suddenly, Drona, with the might of his will drawn from his ability to envision matter itself, quaked the
rock. That rock made a huge noise, a deep, resonating
shudder as if the Earth itself were remarking in sound; the rock in
its quintessential quaking sent out vibrations every which way --
in the air and on the ground. Indeed, the very ground beneath Chienne
had shook, even if briefly. Chienne for a tested moment actually feared being swallowed up by the earth beneath his feet unless that quake were to
stop somehow. Stop it did as Chienne leaped reflexively at least five feet
backwards to evade the dynamics of a rock given over now to some
force with the power to defy its own solid, static nature.
Threatened as he was by such a hint of a possible tremor of the
Earth to follow this event and startled most totally in response to
such a remarkable, Herculean feat of
Drona, Chienne dared not continue his targeting of the messengers
in the trees at this juncture in the battle.
Indeed, this quake of the large rock, sending Chienne off his route
as he dared not contend further in his former determined direction on the
field, had brought the battle home to our boy hero. Drona
then sent Giant Little forth so as to collect the dynamics of the
field unto a discrete point in a direction and place away from the
messengers. Giant Little, upon the command of Drona, made
his way out of his guard spot by the messengers with the greatest
of dispatch. He literally ran through the forest to gain a
strategic and vitally needed, acentric ground in the battle in
front of him. Drona was now assuming a mental picture of the
whereabouts of Giant Little which he would implement in the even
more ultimate deflection of Chienne. Chienne was somewhat
stunned for a few minutes by the shock of the quaking rock.
As he stood recollecting himself, Giant Little gained his new
ground unbeknownst to the mad wizard, setting up a portending
conflict at a fairly great distance from the holding
trees.
In the meantime, Drona kept sending Chienne Gai's new locus on the
field by mentally projecting it at him as he began to recover his
senses from the awesome quaking of the huge rock. Drona was
commanding the battle in ways hidden to even the psychic powers of
the black magician, the mightiest of the enemy contenders on the
battlefield despite his slighter form. In fact, Drona, by
sequestering Chienne away from the messengers, was preventing a
battle formation in their close proximity which would have spelt a
massive physical conflict with numerous mortalities.
Chienne knew that Drona was
as formidable as ever, yet he persevered. In great pause coupled with deep fear of the grandmaster,
the wicked wizard changed his sick, sordid strategy in the
battle. Knowing where Giant Little was posted now as per
Drona's mental device, Chienne set out to get Giant Little further
off in the woods; Chienne began to stalk him instead of the
messengers, moving with equal determination if in a different
direction. Chienne was seething with the will to use his newly
derived weapon for the first time. Indeed, with the greatest ego about the power of his
potion and even despite Drona's obvious awareness of him, Chienne
regrouped with some dark mind of twisted supremacy. Needless
to say, no such
absolutely powerful weapon as Chienne's terrible nerve gas would
give an honorable fight in war. Chienne thought to himself, "Now I will
defeat that mighty grandmaster Drona once and for all with this even mightier product of my
alchemy, my magic. This poison will change forever the war scene in front of me.
I, Chienne, the greatest of the great, will come into even greater power now with the death of Giant Little.
Heh heh heh. Only I, Chienne the magician, can get
him. I'll teach him one last thing before he dies -- that
he, too, is mortal. May
he remember the apple tree which died before his very eyes when I
killed it to terrify him, and may that fear overcome him as I move
in to strike him down. I'll get our little hero, that little
dwarf. He's mine for sure. Move another rock! I'll leap over it, and I'll get
that little giant himself!"
Thus did Chienne mentally recover from the awesome threat of Drona which had thrown him off his course towards the holding trees where he
had wished to assault the messengers. However, Chienne was a little too confident of his
recovery and by far too confident of his moment to deploy his wicked concoction at Giant Little.
There is one thing you must realize about Giant
Little; cautious
he was based upon his knowledge of fight, yet more than that, his
fearlessness could cause him to trump without showing a trump to
the mightiest enemy no matter the stakes against him. That
may sound glorious and great, true; however, that might also be
the necessary level of fight in the battle to save his country,
and he knew it. The great boy hero knew that if Chienne were
to rise by use of the nerve gas in his evil hand in this immediate battle,
alas, great doom would be spread over Bohemia. Chienne had
to be stopped summarily from rising this night to the fore of the overall war;
indeed, Bohemia was now sitting prospectively on the edge of
total dynamic involvement of three nations together. The hope for
Bohemia was as good as nullified unless Chienne were stopped
somehow. At this moment of
realization of the exact perils ahead of him, Giant Little stopped
and prayed to
Radhita. He gave her his great
heart of love as he readied himself to tolerate the insidious
death wish of the most powerful black magician in all the land,
the masterful Chienne, whom the true masters knew to be but a charlatan
of mastery, yet a leading accomplice of Durydon. Yes, Gai
was ready to die for his country; but when he thought of his noble
princess, Radhita, he wanted to live to save her and to love her
forever more. Giant Little was more than ready for this
scrimmage with Chienne, and with the most humble mind and heart to save the
runners and their messages, Gai rejoiced in the dynamics of the
field. He was encouraged humbly that he had been chosen to
defeat Chienne whose black magical mind and whose deadly chemical
to match did not daunt Gai. He thought for a brief second of
Catster, sitting in a tree next to the messengers. Catster
would make sure nothing could happen to them now that he had left
his former guard position in order to command the exact,
inevitable fight with Chienne and his nerve gas. The move
through the tunnel was delayed now; nevertheless, a tunnel with
its enclosed space characteristics was not the place to be
fighting a poison which could kill by its misty travel,
either. Gai realized how vital this regrouping of Chienne on
the field by his own sudden run to a new positioning for
fight. Giant Little thrived on this opportunity to take this
kind of lead in the defeat of evil. How many times he had
simply escaped Chienne throughout his adventures! Now at
last, the fight had fulminated in this moment with its dire
formation, for this was the final facing-off. "Now let
me face him off for who he really is," thought the mighty
person who was by age a youth but by level a true master.
Chienne was abandoning caution at this point in the contention as he felt the
stone-like presence of the incredible warrior-saint now moving
towards him. Chienne, Giant Little sensed, was able to
transcend his fear in the fight through the belief he held in his
seemingly magic potion. Giant Little remembered the apple
tree which had withered and lost its fruits due to the invasive
fumes of the deadly weapon of Chienne's devastating
concoction. He started not. With a tactical disregard for the deadly potion
Chienne touted, did our boy hero persevere and seek out the physical being which matched the supernormal level of the
awesome Chienne. Gai's entire body, seemingly small as it
might be, clung to the power of the
mother Earth as he moved with his center of body lowered, his legs
bending so as to give him a minor crouch as he stalked the
terrible one, now his most active target. The energy Giant
Little felt emanating from his being was directing him, bent now
as he was finally on the person of the black magician who had been
methodically finding him out on the field. Chienne
sensed the movement of Giant Little. Wearing his black cape
slung back for the fight which at times obscured his slight form, he moved slowly but steadily, carrying his
deadly potion held out in front of his body in readied disposition
for the attack; he hoped that when Giant Little would catch sight
of him, seeing the potion thus posed for deployment would terrify
him and weaken him for the attack. Chienne had a long, pointed, silver beard by
which anyone could easily identify him as the
Chienne when he was out and
about. Chienne owned and operated an apothecary shop in
a town neighboring Bohan called Fortuna and made a good
livelihood.
Giant Little came upon a small clearing in
the bushes. Whoosh! In
one fell swoop, he leaped into the center of the small clearing so
as to invite Chienne to open battle. This clearing was only about
forty feet in diameter and was in
the shape of an almost perfect circle. The great boy hero
stood as open bait now; he was taking away the secrecy of the
black magician by offering him his own body as obvious target,
knowing that such secrecy was all that Chienne had lived for in developing
his chemical weapon. Strange that he had given away his
secret by
killing the apple tree, Giant Little reflected in his great mental
presence even in the face of this monumental danger.
"Chienne must have been trying to terrify me with that act of
destruction," the valiant lad thought to himself; "I had
taken it as an act of God."
There he was now in the dim light of the
early night; there stood Giant Little in view of Chienne who was
on the exact edge of the clearing. As Giant Little pretended
to give Chienne his prospective power of chemical attack by
crouching now closer to the ground, Chienne became emboldened to
move in on his prized target, the very great hero of the entire
land even despite his young age. Chienne carefully and quietly stepped just beyond the
edge of the bushes demarcating the circle of the clearing, holding
steadily his vial of deadly chemical and mentally projecting it
onto the entire body of the enemy in front of him now, the boy
myth of the land nearby Pristinia. Giant Little felt the
mental projection of the wizard. As he felt it, he reached into his pocket, took out an apple, and tossed it gently
to the ground directly in front of the wizard. It fell with a minor clump onto the ground
not three feet in front of Chienne. Chienne did not care for
this bold, taunting act of his enemy. Once Giant Little read
this in Chienne, he proceeded to open up
his physique in bold answer, standing now erect with two fists
held out by his readied arms. Chienne saw this. The
puffed-up chest of Giant Little became his immediate target; his
eyes gleamed at the sight. Now squinting his little eyes in
a mind for target and aim, he
laughed his sinister laugh in his mind only, not wishing to give
away his exact locus to Drona by making any sound. Chienne's
back bent first slightly back and then forward a little as he
prepared to take his dire action of releasing the deadly poison at
the boy so as to interface and fumigate him, effectively.
With this telegraphing as Giant Little had read it, the emboldened
wizard leapt at Giant Little, bursting across the ground like a
wisp in one neat, broad-jump fashion. However, at this point where
Giant Little had thus bled the mind of Chienne into his readiness
to gain the necessary distance to actually hurl the chemical with its invasive fumes at his own
body, Giant Little disappeared from Chienne's eyes. Chienne
rubbed his left eye in astonishment -- Giant Little had become
invisible to him just as he was about to kill him with his
alchemical weaponry. This all had occurred in a matter of
seconds.
Now what would he do? For a fleeting moment, Chienne was
actually afraid that he had somehow taken in even a single
molecule of his own chemical devastator, causing him to be blinded
somehow or at some level since he could not see his own most
coveted target any longer anywhere. No, Chienne thought to himself; his mechanism of
deployment had been perfectly developed. That weird man had
developed a way to send the deadly matter forth in the form of a
bomb-like bolus of chemical which detonated upon landing on its
target; it devastated both through contact and through the mist of fumes it
would send forth once it burst open past its fragile
membrane. It was like a bomb when it struck. In that way, he was himself spared its very power
to fumigate as long he was eight or ten feet from his target once
it would fully vaporize. But no,
in this instance the boy wonder had become invisible
before his very eyes. He blinked his eyes, madly searching
for his targeted Giant Little. Now what to do; once again the recurring
theme of the invincible one before him momentarily daunted
him. "How dare he taunt me with an apple!"
the angered wizard muttered, momentarily forgetting himself and
his need to be as silent as possible lest Drona were to be upon
him again.
"Heh heh heh! By the stars, by the powers of the heavens
onto the Earth, by the clouds I do so make, I will get you anyway, you little, small
thing, you! Why, you little varmint!" Chienne sent out the thought waves to the
invisible boy warrior. Chienne had no idea where Giant
Little could be at this point in time. He began to step now
warily further into the clearing, carrying the vial of potion with its
trigger to death upon his enemy -- effectively a deadly spray gun
-- carefully in front of him as he
took his steps. He kept his eyes on the place where he had
last seen Giant Little. There had been a rock right by the
left side of Giant Little, and this served as a marker for the
bold Chienne. With the rock as his starting point, the
wicked wizard of Fortuna swung his small body around slowly with
the spray gun held out in front of him by two hungry arms barely
bent at the elbows, searching madly for some form of the boy as he
surveilled the entire area a full three hundred sixty degrees
around. He stopped again at the rock, looking down at it
bewildered, not even sure at this point if it was indeed a rock at
all. He rubbed his eye again to see if it was blurred.
Chienne switched the nebulizer into his other hand, rubbing his
right eye as well, thinking that perhaps his sight was failing
him, and he darted his eyes so refreshed around in the darkness
about him exasperated by the loss of sight of his chosen
target. Chienne was indeed now invisibly trumped while Giant
Little was triumphant, of course. However, this was not the
time to make an escape and leave this maddened wizard to his
futuristic diabolical designs; this Giant Little -- wherever he
was -- knew.
Suddenly from directly behind him in his blind spot, there came a dynamic, powerful thrust of
wind at Chienne which had no connection to the atmosphere around
him; it was beyond the ordinary. It came with no warning or
counterpart to the sound of physical movement of his youthful
enemy. This wind was short-lived
and not explicable in any sense at all whatsoever to
Chienne. He had concluded that somewhere in the space of air
once occupied by Giant Little, the boy, however magic he might be,
was still located. Chienne was wrong. Giant Little was
squarely upon him in dire fight from behind, and Chienne had just
found this out as the energy of the boy warrior had
instantaneously
been unleashed upon him as if by magic. Chienne in dire fight for his own
life now spun adeptly around to confront his short-statured
opponent for the deathblow. However, Chienne was too late
for any such countermove which would actually kill Giant Little. As
Chienne spun around with the deadly vial of chemical readied for its
deployment, Giant Little actually sent further into the
centripetal force of Chienne's circular about-face movement a
mighty block at the thin, knobby wrist of Chienne at whose extreme was the
scrawny hand
which held the deadly bombing materiel, dislodging from that hand
the nebulizer. This block was the
block which saved the life of our wondrous warrior who bore as
target the nefarious, warring mind and substance of the awful
Chienne so skillfully and courageously that Chienne could not
accept the defeat. Now again, Chienne saw the unerring
defensibility of the lad of mythical lore threaten to transcend
even this miraculous product of his laborious research into deadly
ammunitions.
Giant Little read Chienne's mind. Chienne was on his way to fetch the deadly chemical weapon, knowing that without air, its
deadly properties would not mix with death itself. The film-like
membrane surrounding the chemical had to be broken open first. Indeed,
the container had not sent out its potential, membrane-bound
chemical substance even as it had
hit the ground with some force only because the trigger had been
spared. Indeed, it had not been detonated. All the chemical
stuff lay latent and waiting in its death-hold chamber. Desperately now, Chienne scurried towards the cache of death's
prospective ministry held within the volume of the metallic vial
which lay on the ground gleaming in the moonlight. He with the
greatest haste procured the vial of his potentially pervasive,
pernicious brew. Now Chienne had the very most
wicked mind to kill Giant Little at last with the resurgence of this nerve
poison into active combat at his gnarly hands. Giant Little
knew that he could not let this wizard go by neatly escaping him
this time; there was no way to spare Chienne, for he would simply
use the deadly chemical warfare in all measures of situations in
the civil war Chienne himself was actually helping to
foment. Giant Little had to intervene now, and in equal
desperation to stop forever the black magician before him, he
strategized once again to finally defeat him and to defeat him for
once and for all. Giant Little cocked his head to one side,
and into his head so disposed, there came an idea from Drona: turn it on
him!
Yes, now there would be a reckoning to tell his own children one
day, mused the war hero. Giant Little watched as the mighty
wizard recovered the vial of murderous, miserable, wretched
chemical substance. How Chienne prided himself in this
stuff, thought the noble one, held in battle as he was against
such a contemptuous killer.
As things happened, Chienne with his recovered vial with its
attached aspirator in hand was in
battle stance with the chemical weapon pointed directly at Giant
Little. His head was bent forward, his knees were flexed
now, his eyes were looking out at Giant Little from behind some
most horrific sphere of destructive intent that the average person
might not even be able to imagine. Giant Little did not
flinch as he set up the next stage in the fight, allowing himself
to become so targeted as he began to effect his plan. All at
once, Giant Little hit the ground so as not to be stable to the
targeting of Chienne. He rolled his body towards Chienne
with the greatest speed. Drona had arrived! Drona was there defending now more
closely from the
cover of the bushes. Together, Drona and Giant Little could
defeat this horrible, evil giant known as Chienne. In the
next brief instant, Chienne was about to reconnoiter mentally to Giant Little's sudden drop
to the ground and get him even as he rolled towards him by pulling
the trigger so as to eject the substance at him when his hand
became paralyzed all at once by an all-powerful cramp. Giant Little
heard the instruction of Drona in the fight according to the
following order: "Get up now and fight! Turn it on
him! I cramped his hand. He cannot move. You are
safe, Giant Little. Attack him with his own device!"
Giant Little bolted to his feet the very instant he heard of this. Giant Little was now but two
feet away from Chienne who was standing helpless to the power of
Drona to cramp his hand and render him immobile as to detonation
of his weapon. Giant Little took an entry into the immoral stench of
the despicable one standing on the ground in front of him, and he reached
out and grasped the exact metal container containing death's
chemical contract. Giant Little in an instant turned the
container, pointing it at the stomach of its master designer,
Chienne himself, whose hand was helpless and concertedly held in a
locked position now targeted but inwardly towards his own person. Indeed, the source was
now becoming steadily more and more its own target if only because
Chienne was frozen still and defenseless at the heroic behest of
the supernally great Drona. Giant Little courageously and
slowly let go of
Chienne's hand which grew ever more cold to the touch as he let
loose his grip on that terrible enemy. Chienne stood as if
spellbound, fearing his predicament and not knowing how to
contend. Now he was starting to succumb instead to fear of his own
destructive tool. He could not move an inch in any way or
fashion; Drona had frozen him bodily by now. Giant Little,
in so setting
the direction of force inward to Chienne by thus turning the vial and
the cramped hand towards its very source, its very inventor, had
just effected the
most brilliant tactic in the battle. Soon, Chienne was
about to experience the first use of his own diabolical weapon in
mortal battle,
yet he could not muster a muscle in self-defense; in actual fact, he
had become his own enemy through the handiwork of Drona and
Gai. Indeed, he
was beginning to fear his own weapon more and more even as much as he felt
helpless to its targeting position about which there was
absolutely nothing he could physically do. Chienne was
flabbergasted. There was simply nothing he could do.
Chienne could not gain the mental supremacy to master Drona's
power against his physical being if only because he was also
mentally crippled in his own guilt for creating such a terrorist
tool; he had by inventing such biological warfare abandoned all of
his moral propriety that had been so well developed in his service
of the sick as an apothecary. Chienne had been so mad for
power and convicted of the mind to destroy with Durydon that he
had lost all scruples when it came to the success of his nerve gas
to so powerfully destroy life itself. He had wanted to be
more supreme than even Durydon, and thus had he even hidden his
tool from him.
Giant Little perceived the helplessness of Chienne perfectly
clearly; he sensed his remorse. Gai intuitively saw that it was time to mobilize for
the final blow and vanquish this enemy. Giant Little backed
up to the edge of the clearing with his eyes held intently on
Chienne who was standing like a statue readied for the monument
of the very death he had plotted for so long on others with the
product of his diabolical chemical creation. Giant Little then pursued
the perimeter of the circular clearing for a few feet, still
backing up to set up
his runway, still keeping his eyes intently on the wizard's
shadowy form. All of a sudden, the miraculous Giant Little
steeled himself for the worst in a heroic burst of courage and bravely took off with a few running steps towards the mentally shocked
Chienne who stood effectively paralyzed as if in some
invisible shackles. The totally compromised magician was writhing in the pain of expectation of defeat.
He surrendered helplessly now even further to his own guilt that he had ever
concocted such a deadly poison of which he could not let go no
matter how hard he tried to so release it -- if only to let it drop to the
ground by his feet! Alas and alarm for him! Chienne was gripped,
Chienne was grabbed, and Chienne was veritably grounded now by an invisible power the likes of which he
had never before experienced; every muscle in his body was stiff and could
not be moved by his will no matter how hard he tried to free
himself if he went beyond his guilt. He felt as if he were gravitationally pinned by
Drona with all of his limbs made heavy and filled with a
remarkable inertia. He felt the boy wonder's movement through the air
as he approached like some bird flying through the cover of
darkness. Lo and behold, may the truth be told; Giant Little hit with his foot
Chienne's hand which was holding the vial of deadly nerve poison
directly at the trigger finger. He struck it from the side
with his precisely effected sidekick, detonating the vile venom at the body of
that demonic villain, Chienne, while simultaneously escaping the fumes as he moved past
the event with his uninterrupted flying motion through the air. For sooth, Giant Little kept in
sacred and sure motion in the
air after the glancing blow to the crooked hand of Chienne, landing far beyond the wizard and in the protective cover of
the bush beyond the body now felled of Chienne. No fumes
could get our great hero as he stood in the sure shelter of the leaves
of the bushes and trees, his safe haven now won in such a
masterful feat of the martial arts -- you cannot even know this
for its full wonder even if
you hear of it -- so great was this technique in its precision and
purpose! Giant
Little's flying side kick had saved the day.
After landing
those several, life-saving feet beyond the body of Chienne, Giant Little collected
himself briefly and took further courage. He turned towards
the battle scene. He stalked once again the murderous wizard
whom he had just conquered, not even trusting that he was indeed
ended as to life. Watching in the moonlight for any cloud of
fumes surrounding the black magician who lay in a clump on the
soil as Giant Little caught sight of him again, Giant Little saw
that he had been hit by his own deadliness -- Chienne appeared to
be actually now lifeless. The last of the fumes from his
wizard's brew were slowly dissipating as they rose slowly from the
corpus in question as some fading and ever more faint mist in the
telling moonlight. Giant Little's heart heaved in his mighty
little chest; he had risked his all to so get him.
However, Giant Little knew something remained that drew him
back to the question at hand despite the appearance of that
morally decrepit enemy as felled
onto the ground in some hell's heap where he deserved to be; in some helpless haven now unto his own hiatus
in all time was he. Unto his own design had he thus succumbed? Giant
Little had to be certain before he sought out his next task on the
battlefield. He thought of the two messengers, Bob Stround
and Bogdhan. This Chienne was the major barrier to success
in the immediate moment as well as for the entire civil war ahead.
So far, the messengers had indeed been spared. What about
the immediate situation; Giant Little wondered. He in all
his sense about battle knew that something was amiss.
Something was occurring at the site of Chienne's felled body, but
the boy could not place clearly as to what it might actually be.
Indeed, as Giant Little stood further guard nearby Chienne's body,
he was steadily more haunted by the prospects that there was something
in the air around Chienne which spoke of an ongoing situation
beyond all likelihood. This was the nature of the evil he
fought and had fought for so long for no direct reward except the
value he held inwardly for the defeat of the bad and in the
defense of the good. He listened carefully for any movement
in the immediate surround since there might be a cohort coming
nearby now. Perhaps Chienne's apprentice was nearby, Giant
Little reflected for a moment.
At this point Drona appeared to Gai. The ancient grandmaster
of karate was standing on the other side of the clearing.
Giant Little, still standing in the cover of the trees past the
edge of the clearing and looking out through the leaves with his
ever inquisitive mind, appealed to his great teacher of the martial
arts for guidance. Humbly he said telepathically, "I
have completed the task of vanquishing the terrible Chienne, or I
have not? Is he gone, or is he somehow still alive, most
honorable one? Tell me, for I am at the service of our cause
in this battle."
Drona nodded a generous nod at Giant Little in the
moonlight. The boy master felt a certain indication of
respect from Drona as he did so. He pointed his index finger
at the motionless, black
mass of cloth not far from where he stood; this Giant Little read
as Drona's indication that Giant Little had indeed succeeded in
hitting his target of the frozen index finger of the dangerous
wizard. Perhaps now Drona would equal the diabolical giant
and was therefore repeating the image of index finger as target,
the boy hero reflected. Shortly after Drona pointed his
finger at the likely or supposed corpse, the
weird wizard began to stir. Lying face down, he started to
lift his head; then he turned it to one side seemingly for
comfort, but as if he had not the power to lift his head fully. For the next few seconds he remained still.
Giant Little's eyes were wide in astonishment. He even was
afraid that the wizard was deceiving them.
"Drona! He is moving! Did the poison detonate
when I hit his index finger, or did it not? I saw the last
of the fumes rise up and disintegrate from where I now stand after
the deliverance of my deathblow, Drona. Why is he still
alive?" Giant Little paused briefly; then he continued,
"I was suspicious that something like this would
happen. I was afraid he would come back to life."
Drona returned to the cover of the bushes at the edge of the
clearing. He carefully coached Gai, saying, "Chienne
was carrying the antidote to his poisonous concoction. It
was in a small sack which burst open when he hit the ground, and
right now it is action to revive him and call him back to
life. Stay tight. I will take care of this. Your
task with him is completed. This wizard is more dangerous
than Durydon; he works on the level of a demon itself. I
will vanquish him."
Giant Little quietly took this in, feeling gladdened that Drona
was there to help him and to intervene with his omnipotent
ways. He took hold of his own index finger, ensheathing it
in his opposite hand, waiting with an avid mind to see what the
great Drona would do next. He stayed yet at his post in the trees, watching
intently for any signs of activity from the wizard who had been
stricken. Slowly, the old wizard lifted his head; then he
lifted his upper body up onto his elbows, looking warily around for a
brief moment. He reflected inward again. He then rose
up from his elbows to his hands and simultaneously, almost miraculously snapped up to his feet as if he were
clamoring for his life and joyously greeting it at the same
time. Both Giant Little and Drona remained as still as the
air around them, cautiously waiting for the wizard to become aware
of them on the field. Just like clockwork, the wizard tuned
into the field and realized that he was surrounded; he was,
however, triumphant and unafraid of his predicament. Now he
was all the bolder since his antidote had saved his life. He
rubbed his stomach where the nerve gas had seeped through his
clothing to the skin and caused him a close brush with
death. When he saw how strong and whole he remained, he
laughed a demonic laugh at both of his enemies on the field.
"Heh heh heh heh heh!"
With that laugh having been issued, Drona tipped off Giant
Little. "Gai, do not leave your post," came the
silent orders of Drona. "He is still armed with nerve
gas. He has a second vial. His goal is to nebulize you
with it. Stay there."
"I am here, Drona; at your command! I won't budge!" came the
answer of the courageous Giant Little in like telepathically born
silence.
Out of nowhere, there appeared a rectangular array of spiritual
light in the shape of a door which hovered high over the head of
the criminally insane apothecary, Chienne. Drona leaped into
the clearing upon its arrival, knowing that it was a demon who had
come to fight and save his worker, Chienne. Drona then
felled Chienne to the ground with a single punch to the stomach
just as he was about to take out his next vial of dangerous
poison. Drona stood over the wizard who was cramped up in
pain, writhing on the ground for a way to get up and fight; he
dared not reach for his ammunition lest he would be kicked.
He was truly compromised, yet he was appealing to his ally, the
demon, who had arrived in its given form from the ether.
This was the demon who had aided in the very development of the
nerve gas, Drona figured silently.
Drona went into a solid horse stance, standing over
Chienne; he placed his inverted fists on his hips. As he
concentrated on the twice-wounded wizard lying on the ground, he
ignored the demon momentarily who was going in and out of sight so
as to distract and threaten, to now distract and now
threaten. Drona slowly began to move his two fists
simultaneously off his hips, focusing intently upon the felled
wizard. Giant Little was watching in
utter amazement the entire scene in the clearing. Wondering
what Drona would do to defeat the demon besides the human, the
wretch Chienne, he stayed still and silently observed the ongoing
fight; he had never seen anything like this before.
As Drona began to move his fists from their respective chamber
positions on his hips, the demon elevated its position as if bothered by the
grandmaster's presence and action. All at once, the two
fists of Drona took great speed to their respective positions in
front of his body directly across from his hips at hip height as
he summarily delivered a double punch. No sooner than he accomplished that technique did he with superhuman speed vacate
the clearing by running a few steps to the side of the clearing;
he moved as if in a flash, yet his arms and legs were also of
course engaged
in the maneuver. At the same time that he moved, to wit, he
seemed to collect a certain calm or stillness in his image as if
the speed were totally effortless. Believe it or not,
however, the strange
wizard disappeared into nothingness, leaving not a single vial of
nerve gas behind him, as Drona departed the exact
clearing in that
remarkable fashion. Drona had escaped the demon with his
transport, his sudden traverse, which was beyond the measure of
time and space. His traverse across the ground did resemble
running but at some extraordinary speed difficult to
describe. And in the place where Drona had stood in horse stance
over the injured Chienne there had fallen a large, black rock
which had been teleported there by the demon. That demon had tried
to strike Drona in the head with his chosen weapon. With his
superhuman speed, Drona had successfully escaped the rock which had been thus hurled at him by the demon,
knowing that the demon had sought revenge for the boulder-sized
rock which he had mysteriously quaked in deflecting Chienne from his stalking
line to the two messengers in the holding trees earlier in the
battle.
May the truth be told; Drona in all his might had disintegrated
the wizard. As the spirit of the wizard Chienne in exitus now left
the Earth, it rose from the site of its instantaneous grave
invoked by Drona with his psychic power of extraordinary level.
Chienne's spirit took the appearance of a large, white flame-like
form of dull light which entered the rectangular light form of the demon. Giant
Little stood in awe as he saw this light display. The
flame-form of the now physically dead Chienne lingered for several
seconds within the construct of the door-like demon light-form which hovered still above
the clearing about twenty feet at this point. Then this
flame of light burst outward into splashes of light which seemed
perhaps to join somehow the light of the demon, leaving only darkness in
the area delineated by the rectangular-shaped light-form of the
amazing demon. Immediately after the light of the wizard's
spirit was non-different from the space within the door shape, the
demon ascended airily and effortlessly off into the atmosphere for
as far as the eye could see.
As
the demon so departed, both Giant Little and Drona stepped out
into the clearing to see it off. Now Giant Little truly
understood from whence that terrible terrorist Chienne had gained
his unearthly powers, for he was an accomplice to a demon itself!
From this lesson had Giant Little learned a great deal about the
battles between good and evil within the sphere of mankind.
Drona had taught him well. Giant Little looked over at Drona
in total, gravitating awe of him. Indeed, Giant Little was
realizing at that moment more and more deeply the actual magnitude
of battle he had entered when he had felled Chienne towards his
ultimate defeat. Giant Little tipped his head a little to
one side as he was integrating all that had just happened, feeling
most grateful that he himself remained alive. This was a most amazing battle with its astonishing spiritual governance as
per an actual demon who had revealed itself to the noble warriors;
however, Giant Little reflected, that demon had lost his
accomplice this time and for always. Gai sighed an
audible sigh of great relief that Bohemia had been spared
the likes of Chienne, a veritable terrorist, early on in the
developing conflicts at hand.
As the two stalwarts stood now peacefully in the cool moonlight, Drona registered the
recognition of truth held within the astonishingly brilliant mind
of his youthful charge in the moment of apical victory they were
sharing; the pious boy made two
fists as he bowed a full bow at the waist to his grandmaster. He held his
deep bow for a
few seconds with his head pointed downward towards the
ground. Giant Little's mind was devoid of thoughts as he
showed his teacher utter respect with his full, reverential
heart in this traditional fashion. When Gai straightened up again to look at him, Drona
was gone.
Giant Little realized that Drona was leading him further now to
the defense of the two messengers. As he reflexively sought
a hiding place in the trees by the edge of the clearing for the
moment, he heard the sound
of a four-legged creature walking through the trees not too far
off and in the direction in which Drona must have left the post,
or so he gathered intuitively.
"That must be Catster!" the boy hero thought to
himself. "I can't wait!"
Giant Little was feeling exuberant at this juncture in the
struggles to save Bohan from terrorist misdeeds under the
direction of Durydon. He had much to share with
Catster. He waited with a small measure of caution to verify
that the encroacher was an ally. To be safe in case this
encroacher was some kind of demon in a physical form, Giant Little
grabbed a tree branch and pulled himself up onto it so as to be
off the ground. The woods were rather dark compared to the
clearing. The sound of four feet moving through the woods
was almost upon him by now; he patiently waited to identify the
newcomer to his post. Catster read all of this in his young
charge; the good cat compassionately gave him assurance that it was he, indeed, who
was there. Standing beneath the tree where Giant Little had
secured himself, Giant Little's missing companion pawed the ground
twice. He then turned his head upwards to find the boy
wonder. Gai could see two large green eyes all aglow in the
very dim light of the moon which entered the place through the
breaks in the tree cover. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt
that those were truly the eyes of his feline mentor, the great
cheetah, Catster. Giant Little surged into happiness upon recognizing
him.
"Catster! I thought it was you! Thanks for
coming! Drona just left," Giant Little intimated
secretly to his favorite companion who had absented the exact
scene of battle for a brief time while Drona commanded
hands-on. "Am I glad to see you!"
Catster looked around the immediate surround, lifting his nose to
the air and sniffing as quietly as could be so as to sense out any
enemy who might be in the offing. Giant Little said with an
inquisitive mind, "Is there anyone abroad on the field,
Catster?"
Catster placed his paw gently on the ground in front of his
body. Then he tapped the ground quietly twice, saying
telepathically, of course, "You can come down. Come
down now, my little one."
Giant Little swooshed down from the tree branch, landing as
quietly as possible and in great excitement to be with
Catster. He had a report to render him, and he was also
concerned as to the whereabouts of Victory.
Giant Little had adeptly landed right by Catster. Catster adored the
brilliant, heroic boy with whom he worked so closely on the
field. The all-knowing cat affectionately curled his paw
around Giant Little's ankle and pulled on him a tiny bit so as to
make him feel protected and safe. Giant Little opened up to
Catster at this show of peace and presence even on a field of
embattlement. He demandingly said to Catster,
"Cats! Where is Victory?"
"We--eel, now, that depends on whether you refer to the one
of equine status or to the recent feat in dire battle you and Drona just
accomplished here," Catster answered tauntingly.
"Equine!" Gai blurted out anxiously.
"Aah haa! So, my boylike charge, your horse is posted now in an odd place
where, first, he is safe, for your brief apprising; and secondly, I
would rather you wait to find out where so that the thought of his
locus does not live in these trees if I send it to you.
Enemy
contenders might read the thought and gain a plan to steal your
horse or to kill him if they find out his hiding place. Have
faith. Your horse will be there when you need him, my great
one of the flying breed, really; you have to admit -- you
are part bird." Catster was placating the boy wonder
with all of his usual charm.
Giant Little countered with feigned ignorance of Catster's
reference to his indomitable flying sidekick; he said playfully,
"Do you mean the way I swung down from the tree under whose
branches we stand?"
Catster tapped the ground a few times quickly, shaking his head
slightly back and forth. Then he retorted, "Yes.
That is exactly what I mean. I make no reference whatsoever
to your skill in battle several feet from here not so many
minutes ago. That might be impertinent to your will, desire
and thriving need to hide your knowledge of such a display of
hurtful harm intended at you by that miserable wizard,
Chienne. He tried to nebulize you with that deadly nerve
gas, now, did he not?"
"Catster, I know not of what you speak," Giant Little
said as he pretended to preserve an intrigue with Catster about
what he had just come through in battle with the deadly
wizard.
"Wee--eell, if you knew of it, you would be dead, you great
hero of Bohan. Somebody has to give you recognition.
Let it be the Cats. That would be I," the great cat
continued, coddling the hero for all that he was in terms of
boyhood.
"But Catster! I just saw a demon here!" Giant Little
declared to him. "That is why I could not truly
vanquish that murderous, horrible Chienne. He worked with a
demon, Cats! Drona and I saw it when it came here as a
light-form in the shape of a door. Drona saved the country when he felled that weird
wizard after he came back to life through an antidote to the
deadly poison of which he seemed to have a large supply hidden in
the pockets of his black cape. I got him once with his own
poison. But that wasn't enough! He worked with a
demon, Catster! Chienne was at the command of a demon all
the time he was with us."
"Hmmh . . . this is extraordinarily factual," Catster
quipped.
"Caster, you are of a special kingdom. Tell me,
Catster. Is the wizard really gone now? Drona just
made him disappear before my very eyes. The moonlight was
all-telling. I have never seen anything like it!"
Giant Little himself was posing questions about the battle to
Catster, appreciating the chance to clear his mind for once and
for all.
"Now that defies all possibilities of which I have ever heard
in these parts; that is for certain. You can say that I am
of a special kingdom; then, you imply that because of that
fact I should know of this impossibly possible probability, as
well?" Catster continued to weave a dialogue with Gai which
would be difficult for any high level, psychic spy to unravel.
Of course, Giant Little knew this. He replied quickly,
"Then defy those possibilities. Defy them! His
spirit rose and went off into space with the demon, Catster.
Drona and I stood there and watched it happen, Catster!
The spirit knows no bounds."
Catster came back to a direct, more serious note so as to set the
stage for the next vital mission for Giant Little. He
carefully answered, "Indeed, that is the truth, my Giant
Little. That is the truth. It is called
disintegration, and that is a rare psychic power of which the
grandmaster is invested. Indeed, that terror of all-powerful
nerve gas of Chienne has just been lifted from the battle plan of
a most awesome mastermind in this strife simply because he is no
more. Chienne has been removed from the warring
picture. This is great; however, this is also top secret for
a careful while. The vital thing is war secrecy; keep a
secret of war. The counterpart to the disappearance of
Chienne in real, immediate danger -- especially to the people of
Bohan -- has passed also with Chienne's passing. That
was the nerve gas. Chienne's use of
that murderous potion on innocent people in public places could
have empowered Durydon in his planned take-over. Keep your
silence. God knows."
"I can see why it would be top secret, Cats. Chienne had an
accomplice, I mean, apprentice. It will go on. The
battle will go on," Giant Little remarked with his
characteristic insight into the truth of what is.
"Wee--eell, now, let us cross that bridge when the connection
point is needed to the other side, the side of reform,
perhaps. Let us see about his apprentice; that magic potion
was Chienne's prized secret. The question of his apprentice
having deeper knowledge of it if any is for
another day. For now, just let it be that you do not know so much
of the higher psychic powers of Drona. That will help protect you
even as you do know them. Jealousy is a vast repository of
the power to strike for no reason at those who have certain inner
secrets. You must not reveal too much of what happens on
this field to any; I must advise you," Thus did Catster admonished the
student of the metaphysics of war.
"Oh, I see what you mean now, Catster. I can honor your
wise counsel to the best of my abilities," the boy said with
deep respect for his mentor, the great Cheetah of varying form.
"Yes, I know you can. Now, let us see what movement is
made over by the holding trees. I will lead you over to a
guard spot nearby the two heroes of the runways," Catster
informed his young charge gently. "Let us see what is
next."
"Catster, before we go, I just have one more question if I
may, please," Giant Little politely inquired of the
omniscient cat.
"Go ahead. I will listen" the cheetah responded
patiently.
"Where is Drona now? He has left without leaving me any
word as to when the movement through the tunnel will begin.
That will essentially be my next task, and I need to know where he is.
Can you tell me?" the boy asked with a mind fervently poised
for his heroic mission even yet ahead of him.
"My Giant Little. You never cease to amaze me.
Now follow me. That was my next move with you . I will
lead you to Drona. Come along. Stay close behind
me. I know what is going on, and who encroaches. Just
stay behind me. It is a little distance from here, that is
all," the great cheetah responded so compassionately and in
such a protective manner that the boy felt safe and sure of the
way ahead in securing the messengers.
Giant Little was bent on his mission in battle as no other
warrior --great or small -- could be, Catster reflected. Caster began to slowly
and quietly move through the woods towards the holding trees while
Giant Little clung closely to the visual form of Catster through
the darkness in front of them as they moved. Giant Little
took quiet steps, placing the toe end of his foot down first each time
he took a step; he would feel for any stick which could crack beneath
his foot so that he could avoid it so as not to make that level of
noise. More than once did he step over a stick as he moved
in line with Catster, going patiently over rocks and around trees,
now moving carefully a branch out of his way, now ducking beneath
an overhanging vine. The brave boy listened constantly for
anyone who might be located on the field in his vicinity as they
made their way in determined and labored, clandestine fashion.
Indeed, Gai was greatly
heartened upon the return of his close companion, Catster, and he knew how
well he had just been mentored by him. There are certain
secrets to keep; thus did the boy hero reflect briefly as they
began their cautious movement towards the next point of major contention
on the field. He remembered when he had stood up from
his deep bow to Drona, the ancient grandmaster was gone; this, the
boy wonder mused, instructed him regarding the need to keep
secrets of war. "Now I understand why Drona left
without giving me immediate instructions for the next phase of
battle. Catster made that also quite clear to me. I
see now. Drona had a higher message in mind for me,"
Gai introspected.
Giant Little could not wait to get those
messages through to the elders of the town. He watched
Catster's every move as they made their way together.
Reflecting assiduously on the battle ahead of him, Gai looked even
beyond the exact return of the valiant runners, Bogdhan and Bob,
to the ground from the shelter of the holding trees. He
reflected on the newly formed tunnel to the Municipal Building
which had been created to save the day in this battle, the Battle
of Bohn, as history would call it. Drona's instructions much
earlier on how to lead the messengers through the tunnel rang in
his memory as he awaited that task with eagerness; moreover, Giant Little had already studied further that momentous event
which was now about to unfold. "True," he
thought. "B. Tiger
and his men are undoubtedly making resistance near the holding
trees since that had been the direction of their movement earlier
in battle when Drona miraculously deflected Chienne towards
the true prize, towards me." However, Giant Little
realized that even if the enemy was indeed upon the two
messengers, even still, no greater feat could have presented than
that of ending the deployment of the deadly nerve gas by
Chienne. In the very least, Chienne did not open up use of
his dangerous chemical on the two messengers as had been his
plan. That catastrophe had been averted. Having
reviewed the field and its dynamics accordingly, the boy hero
assured himself, thinking, "We will be there in time to get
those messengers down safely and without harm. Time will
tell."
Giant Little drew up a further point of gratitude in the warring
moments behind him. He realized that the way Chienne had
carefully and jealously guarded his long-sought invention of the
deadly potion had worked to the advantage of the protection of all
of the good people -- both those warriors on the field and
possibly even innocent citizens everywhere. If Chienne had
openly shared his concoction, that biological weapon could have
gone into widespread use in Bohemia. There is no telling
what kind of mayhem could have been let loose in such an event;
there is no telling what kind of sordid, terrorizing
leverage could have been wrought if an alliance between Chienne
and Durydon in the deployment of nerve gas had ever
occurred. Indeed, that very alliance could have become
inevitable if Chienne had lived to tell of his potion and to use
it. No. As Giant Little reviewed his warring deed
against Chienne, he thought to himself, "I stood up to the
nerve gas of Chienne on the behalf of defeating a budding
biological terrorist; that is what I just did. He thought he
was on his way with it. I read him loud and clear. He
thought he had me, too." Giant Little's mind shined
forth in his astounding victory in facing off the dark-minded
wizard who was setting about the task of gripping the people of
Bohan with his terror. Such as that horrible threat now
desisted in the mind of the giant warrior, Giant Little, who
characteristically left no concept of possibility in war to
languish in his mind. He reflected next upon his will and
desire to marry the daughter of the prime minister of Liberty Love
Forest; at this remembrance, Giant Little's great heart surged
even more powerfully into the moments on the field before
him. Knowing these moments were to be trying and
tense, nevertheless, he welcomed them with an even more
dedicated courage now, for the side of good had just been
vindicated by the absolute defeat of the demonic Chienne.
As he found his way slowly across the forest floor behind his feline
leader, Giant Little placed one last reflection on his mental
slate with the thought to himself, "May the side of good gain
its unerring momentum from now on up to the very end of this
entire strife to end Durydon himself! May that momentum
catch as I know it will and build forever more."
Putting aside the larger picture, Gai began to feel more and more
the heat of the battle as they moved cautiously so as to close the distance ahead
of them. He and Catster with great skill and
infinite patience slowly but at last were effectively zeroing in on the
holding trees. Gai concentrated now on the mighty Catster
not two steps ahead of him. He reached within himself to
envision in the here-and-now the exact placement of the enemies on
the battlefield. The next phase of the battle was about to
occur. Gai made two fists and sent the thought to Catster,
"I ready myself." In his fearless demeanor and as
record told, there was none like the great boy hero; in fact, he
saw way beyond those of criminal mind who plotted their misery on
the town if not nation. His size so small, his mind so
great, his heart so invested that he saw no fear -- this valiant
lad kept his purpose ever near, and that purpose was to save his
very nation from revolt.
Catster, keeping a silence, halted to a stop. He assumed a
sitting posture momentarily and went into a rock-solid,
motionless state, looking like a statue to the boy. Giant Little
then also
immediately withdrew his mind from the surround, dismissing at
once the goal of the holding trees; he crouched down to the ground and took cover beneath a bush about five feet
from the zen-like cat. This cover would allow Gai to study
the danger of which Catster was apprising him by suddenly halting and
going into an entranced state of mind.
This was a technique Catster employed so as to make it difficult
for any enemy to uncover their whereabouts as they approximated
the holding trees, even if from a distance. A delay in the progress of their movement
coupled with an evacuated mindset was to their strategic advantage
if it worked. Apparently, Catster was aware of someone not
too far off. Those holding trees were the prized goal
now of all warriors on the field. Perhaps some of those
warriors were not fully aware of why the movement on the field
gravitated towards the area of the two tall trees which had housed and saved
the two messengers. Nonetheless, that locus of the holding
trees was actually ruling the dynamics on the field in an
attractive, magnet-like force.
Giant Little was at this juncture wondering how close was the goal of reaching the
messengers; however, he put this question aside in deference to
the disposition of Catster. He looked out from underneath
the bush with his physical eyes and saw that Catster did not break
his posture. In fact, Catster blended into the silence of
the night as if he were a uni-dimensional shadow. Gai
wondered if Catster would even be visible to an enemy; truthfully, he doubted
it. No
thoughts were exchanged at all between Catster and Giant Little at
this point. Gai settled his head slowly back onto the ground,
not making a single sound. He was grateful for his cover at
least until he could figure out why exactly Catster had stopped
and frozen into some passive posture. Giant Little at that
moment felt the fear of an enemy foot soldier only about eighty feet
away from them. Apparently that person had caught notice of
their presence, of their movement across the grounds, and he was
dangerously close to them. Catster was leading Giant Little
now in active contention; the boy warrior was not certain as to
whether there would be an active fight or an evasion of
such. He summoned up his patience and fortitude to see which
possibility would ultimately come to pass. Ever ready to
resist the action of evildoers, Giant Little gave his mind a
similar retreat from all active interest in the whereabouts of the
possible contender in their vicinity for the time being. He
would follow the lead of Catster and withdraw all thoughts and
observations unless they became necessary. For the next
several minutes, Gai lay perfectly still on the ground beneath the
rhododendron bush, not moving a muscle. He left all thoughts behind as he reached
within himself and found his inner peace most perfectly. His
prayerful mind was retreated; Gai was resting on a plane of
ulterior consciousness, totally at peace with himself and with his
surround.
It worked. Catster's strategic stabilizing and retreat into
thoughtlessness had for the next few minutes ruled out a direct
confrontation of a physical kind on the field for the two heroic
contenders. Catster and Giant Little could hear the
footsteps of one of B. Tiger's men slowly retreating from their
own respective position on the field. B. Tiger's fellow gangster
had not gained any further direct
knowledge of their placement in the forest. However, Catster
knew that it was still too early to resume their route towards the
two messengers. After a few minutes had passed, Catster thumped his tail once gently onto the
ground. Giant Little read this signal from Catster. He
answered by cracking a stick with his fingers. At this
sound, Catster broke the incommunicado status that had helped
deflect the enemy warrior from their location; he sent forth a thought to Giant
Little. "That was a scout of B. Tiger we just
avoided. He did not find us out. He
will run into one of Drona's karate masters in the quarter he now
seeks out over yonder way. Stay tight. There are two
allies directly behind us, not five hundred feet away, who flank
us."
Giant Little remained quiet. He thought things over,
searching in his mind's eye for the way ahead; he was trying to ferret
out the presence of a possible enemy with whom they might have to contend
directly ahead of them. It seemed that any encroachment from the rear would be
thwarted effectively by the two allies just cited by
Catster. He asked of Catster, "Are those two defenders
from rear quarter also Drona's men?"
Catster briefly replied, "Yes."
"Then we are in good positioning," Giant Little
furthered.
Now as he took precaution to limit the thought dialog with
Catster, Giant Little and Catster heard the high-pitched zooming
sound of some kind of a missile in the distance even through the
muffling power of the trees. It hit a
target powerful enough to stop it with a sudden, blunted thump;
this told Gai that it had hit a tree and not a person. The
sound of the moving weapon, probably a metallic throwing star,
reflected Giant Little, alerted both Catster and the boy that a
scrimmage was starting in the direction taken by the scout of B.
Tiger. Gai figured the start of that conflagration was the
reason Catster had delayed resuming their own path towards the
messengers who were still waiting up in the lower branches of
their respective trees. Indeed, Giant Little avidly sought
out the likelihood that he and Catster would use the fight going
on with B. Tiger's scout and the side of good as a decoy for their
next phase of movement towards the holding trees.
Just as he was beginning to expect that possibility more
immediately in the sense of the battle, the noise of the
conflagration in the distance took on a steadily growing status;
there seemed to be more than one of B. Tiger's troops
involved. Perhaps there were three or four others. Giant Little rejoiced. He heard Catster call
him out from the bush with two thumps of his right forepaw on the
forest floor.
In a flash second, Giant Little stiffened his body, steeled his
mind bravely, and carefully crawled out from under his lush rhododendron bush. He stood up. He looked at Catster
as the noble cat turned his head to assure the boy that the way
ahead was now theirs again. Gai saw the two luminous eyes of
Catster steadily glowing at him, and he rejoiced in his deeper
sense of their mission at the moment. "Let's go,
Cats. I'm yours," the boy hero calmly reflected towards
his able guide.
With that sense of togetherness on the field having been set
forth, the two contenders began to once again move carefully and
quietly through Municipal Woods in as straight a line as possible
towards their goal. Giant Little was relying totally on
Catster's unerringly accurate sense of direction; they seemed to
have a clearance which had been masterfully formed as they with
heightened valor made their way through the trees. Giant Little knew
that such clearance was the work of the command of Drona. He
sighed in deep gratitude that Drona was present and presciently
so, to be sure. He hurled his mind to the entrance of the
cave which was to be his secret route with the messengers once
they were extricated from the holding trees. The boy warrior
found peace at that entrance in his mind's eye. At this
concept of peace he was gladdened, and he petitioned in his heart
for a greater peace to soon overarch all of Bohan when once the
messages would at last be safe and in the hands of the town
elders.
This was truly the most remarkable battle our hero had ever
fought. So much depended on the success of this mission to
defeat Durydon and B. Tiger. So much rested in the command
of Drona. Giant Little masterfully manned the mission barely
even aware that he was doing it, so fully engrossed in the action
was he. Indeed, unto recent victory against Chienne did Gai
heartily hearken. The current dynamics of the field were in
their destined favor. Giant Little summarily synthesized
these two phases of time for an imminent victory which now loomed
in his mind, sending him momentarily into a state of ecstasy as he
grasped a tree branch in his way; he quietly held it away from his
face as he passed in the protective cover of the night. Gai
was in his own. Gai's long-standing prayers and purpose for
Bohemia itself were like some piece of clay taking a newly molded
shape right before his own cognizance. This made Giant Little
focus ever more on saving the life and limb in his immediate
reach; yes, now for the two messengers he and Catster were
actively seeking out on the field. "They will be ours
before long," the noble lad thought. "We will
reach them. We will get those messages through to the town
government. How else will I ever meet Radhita's father so
that I can ask for her hand in marriage?" The hero of
smaller stature smiled when he realized that his aspirations to
strike such a major victory as his marriage proposal were now
coming true as to event in front of him. Once again, he
rejoiced even as he was in a field of danger.
Giant Little and the great cheetah who preceded him in their
studied movement towards the holding trees next heard a gun
shot. Bam! Two more shots followed quickly. Bam!
Bam!
Pfew! Pfew! Two missiles now greeted the airways as if
in answer to the guns in the trees from the quarter where Drona's
masters were making resistance to B. Tiger's troops, the same
scrimmage which had allowed Gai and Catster to make greater
advancement on the field towards the holding trees. Someone
had been felled. At least one of B. Tiger's men had been
downed in battle. Catster and Giant Little moved onward,
steadily concentrating on the quarter ahead of them. Catster
looked back over his shoulder at Giant Little when they reached a
generous ravine and said to his boylike charge, "From here is
where we will devise the extrication of the messengers from the
trees working with Drona. Let us enter down yon and delay
here."
Giant Little and Catster coursed down the side of the
ravine. Giant Little, knowing that B. Tiger was posted ahead
nearby the holding trees with a few of his men, silently held his
ground at the bottom of the ravine and proceeded to scout the
ravine with his mind's eye. He could hear the gentle
gurgling of the small stream running through the center of the
ravine, and it consoled him momentarily. He was glad that so
many of the gang of B. Tiger were involved elsewhere on the
field. He reflected to himself that they had been on a reconnaissance
mission in search of him which had arisen also when Chienne was
deflected from his course to the holding trees by Drona's magic
earlier in the battle. In fact, Catster happened to also
address this very question, saying to Gai, "I hope you
realize that those men of B. Tiger had been working closely with
Chienne and his men from the start of this resistance here in
Municipal Woods. Chienne's men are two in number. They
are also by the holding trees. However, B. Tiger's men who
are fighting in yonder quarter where we left them are bewildered
by the absence of Chienne; they had as you know also been
searching for you. Chienne's death has cast one huge doubt
over their minds; accordingly, they are gripped by it. They
know not what they are doing compared to where they would be if
Chienne were still with us. Chienne was none less than an
awesome contender on this field. He is missed by our
opposition. Let us remember that and use it now to our
advantage."
Giant Little rested his mind on Catster's analysis for a brief
moment. Then he posed another point. He said to
Catster, "Cats. I think that Chienne's men will be more
ferocious and formidable if they sense that Chienne is no
more. They are also advanced in the martial arts. I
will fight them according to that kind of expectation. When
they sense my presence as we encroach, they might also sense the
battle I just fought."
"So be it," Catster answered smoothly. "Drona
might have some magic or other up his sleeve. So might
I," Catster continued. "There are ways. If
you are thirsty, there is an artesian well over there on the other
side of the stream. I myself will slake my thirst
here. We will be regrouping upon Drona's summon. It
won't be long. B. Tiger heard those shots. I believe
he is sending one of his men to that place of action. He
will now start to decenter."
With that word telepathically given, Catster and Giant Little
crossed the stream by a few stepping stones and visited the well
for a drink of water. Refreshed by it and ready for the most
critical phase of action ahead of them, Giant Little awaited now
any signal from Drona. Catster reminded him that they were
only about a thousand feet away from Drona's secret post by the
holding trees. The ravine they occupied could give them an
easy, quick passage over to Drona if they were summoned that way;
the sound of the rushing water would act as a decoy for their
movements. Giant Little felt elated that they were at last
so close to the messengers. Two of Drona's masters held a
close guard besides Drona nearby the two holding trees. So
far, neither B. Tiger nor any of his men nor those of Chienne had
given any significant challenge directly to Bogdhan and Bob; the
two messengers were skillfully hidden and were biding the time in
total, useful silence as they waited for a decided break in their
favor so that they could fully accomplish their descent to the
ground.
© Copyright
2005 - 2009 by Marilynn Stark; All Rights Reserved
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Nota
bene: This adventure story continues at Part 1 now with the
Battle of Bohan forming in Honey Valley between the arch general and the
black-clad outlaw with his gang. Once that battle is fought, this
recapitulation will be updated. For your instant replay, please
click onto the link