Friday, December 11, 2020

Ghelfunn is in Big Trouble!

 

Ghelfunn opened his eyes but could see nothing. Everything within sight was a blur. He wanted to rub his eyes, but his hands were bound behind his back. He was lying on his left side. The dizziness was beginning to clear, but the back of his head painfully ached as if he had been kicked by a horse. Then suddenly, two men, one on each arm, raised him up on his knees. A moment passed before he steadied himself enough to discover where he was--the Sovereign's war room tent. 

The two men released their grip on his arms, then stood behind him. He looked to the left. Standing near the perimeter of the tent, Ghelfunn saw a few men from the Sovereign's rear guard, one leaning on a support pole picking his teeth. Two others were talking to each other, laughing, pointing at him. Numerous maps of the battlefield hung on the walls, some with red color markings. He faintly smelled food. Lunch, he thought. To his right, he was surprised to see a group of Nprudi horsemen huddled together, talking about something that interested them deeply. Ghelfunn lowered his head and spit out a stream of blood. He felt nauseated, the ringing in his ears making him feel off balance. The light shining through the entrance to the tent was painful, so he closed his eyes. The darkness returned. A moment later he fainted, falling on his right side. The two men behind him quickly grabbed his arms again, raising him  once more to his knees. His thighs began to burn with pain, he groaned as a cramp worked its way from his left foot upward to the calf muscle. He tried to straighten his leg out but the man on his right slammed a fist into his ribs. 

"That's enough," a voice calmly said. "Let's not kill him. Not yet anyway."

Margon walked into the tent and stood in front of Ghelfunn, leaning down to look directly into his prisoner's eyes. He smiled. Margon then walked over to a table containing a platter of food and cups full of water. He took a piece of meat, rolled it between his fingers, and took a bite. 

Turning to Ghelfunn, he said, "You hungry? Looks like you missed lunch."

Ghelfunn looked up and said nothing.

"That's okay. Your head will clear. I imagine you are still somewhat dizzy. That blow to the head was more severe than I would have liked--I apologize. My men are loyal but tend to be a bit too aggressive."

"What's going on," Ghelfunn asked, blood dripping down from his head wound. He spit again, this time toward Margon. "You are Margon, right? The queen's safeguard?"

"I am," Margon responded. "You might say I'm her right and left hands--and both feet. I command her personal guard." Margon took another bite of meat, then picked up a glass of water, taking a drink. "We have met, you know. You are just a little confused right now. Is your head feeling any better?"

"I am more than a little confused," Ghelfunn said. "Why are you dressed like a Nprudi horseman?"

"So many questions. I know you are curious about what you have seen. And we will get to that. But for now, I have a question."

Ghelfunn's headache was beginning to ease, but the cramp in his left leg was still bothering him. His knees were digging into the tent's floor causing him to shift weight from his right to the left. If I could just stand up, maybe I'd feel more like talking, he thought. 

"What's your question," Ghelfunn asked.

Sunday, December 6, 2020

Ghelfunn in Battle Against the Nprudi

 

Ghelfunn stepped over the bloody body of a Nprudi footman, holding a knife in his right hand. The footman had stumbled over a rock and it was a mistake he soon regretted, for Ghelfunn had taken his knife and quickly plunged it deep into the footman's chest. Ghelfunn stood up, scanned the battlefield to the east and began looking for the Sovereign. Where the hell is the king? he thought.

At the moment, another Nprudi horseman lunged toward him with a poison-tipped spear. Should the spear break Ghelfunn's skin, he would die in seconds. The horseman stabbed at Ghelfunn's neck and face, then quickly tried a slashing move to gash his lower legs. The Nprudi was looking for any open skin, any weak spot to make an incision. Ghelfunn, however, used the shield on his left arm to skillfully knock away the darting spear tip, anticipating perfectly the Nprudi's moves. Before his enemy could take another step forward, Ghelfunn dropped to his left knee, raised the knife in his right hand and threw it directly toward the neck of the Nprudi. The blade entered just beneath the Nprudi's chin, then continued upward into his gasping mouth and square jaw. The Nprudi stepped backward but did not fall. The knife hung from his lower left jaw, protruding through his throat and neck to the right. Surprisingly, the Nprudi grabbed the blade and with a loud scream pulled the knife out and tossed it aside. Ghelfunn wasted no time. He reached for the leather whip tied to his belt on the right hip. His right hand fit firmly just above the heel knot. Ghelfunn slung the whip forward, the thong straightening out in a whisp of smoke and dust, the fall and cracker snapping in midair. Ghelfunn immediately slung his right arm backward in a sweeping motion, then suddenly forward, causing the whip to sling forward toward the Nprudi's arm which still grasped the poisonous spear. The Nprudi dropped the spear, which was set for another attack. The spear stabbed the earth remaining there like a tree limb stuck in the ground. Ghelfunn withdrew his whip and repeated the swift and deadly motion again, this time slinging his whip upward, wrapping the fall and cracker around the Nprudi's neck. Slamming his right arm and wrist downward, Ghelfunn brought the NPrudi to his knees entangled at the end of his whip. Ghelfunn walked toward the bleeding, gasping, Nprudi and removed the whip from around his neck. Ghelfunn kicked the Nprudi in the chest causing the footman to fall backward. Ghelfunn stood over the reclining Nprudi and slammed his shield into the Nprudi's wounded neck just below the right jaw. The Nprudi took one last breath, coughed, lifted his head and looked at Ghelfunn. Their eyes met briefly; a small tear dripped down the Nprudi's right cheek. The tear drop mixed easily with the Nprudi's blood, soaking his lips and chin. The Nprudi would shed no more tears that day. His life was no more.

"Ghelfunn!" Odan shouted. "You okay? Looks like you need help!" Odan ran from his own fighting position across the grassy knoll and stood to the left of Ghelfunn. "When will you use a sword like the rest of us? That whip of yours will one day get you killed."

"The long blade gets in my way. I've told you this a thousand times. I prefer my whip, a good knife, and perhaps a supply of starblades. A bow and arrow? Fine. But a sword? No thanks."

"From the looks of it, we're winning," said Udan. "I've killed my fair share of these devils. I see just a few pockets of resistance. The Nprudi are done."

"We've been fighting a forward guard," Ghelfunn said. He looked at the bloody scene and somehow knew it was just the beginning. "The main attack force is to the north. They will be coming soon. Have you seen the Sovereign?"

"He's over there," Udan motioned to his left beyond a group of trees. "He looks safe and sound. Glad he's enjoying the view. Wouldn't want him to be uncomfortable. Probably having a glass of wine and some cheese."

The two men walked north toward the high ridge one hundred yards distant to get a better view of the valley below them. Their path took them over a rocky terrain littered with dead and dying bodies. After years of fighting for the Sovereign, neither warrior was particularly unsettled by the sight of widespread misery and desolation. Mostly, they just wanted to rest and get something to eat.

"Do you see what I see," asked Udan. "Look over the tree line to the right."

"I see them," Ghelfunn said. "We're not done yet. I need a horse. Lost mine about an hour ago."

"I've still got mine, unless my attendant ran off with it. Let's meet here after we get some rides. You won't have any trouble finding a horse, somewhere. There's plenty of dead Nprudi horsemen who won't be needing one." Udan then ran off to seek his attendant, and hopefully, retrieve his favorite horse.

 Ghelfunn turned and watched his friend, thankful to Rhemaden that Udan was still alive. That man has saved my life too many times to count, he thought. He's been at my side all these years. Without him, I would be nothing.

Ghelfunn scanned the battlefield and quickly found a stout horse to take as his own. The Nprudi herds were among the best in the realms; horses to the Nprudi were more important than food. A Nprudi horseman was taught to feed his horse first, then feed himself. Ghelfunn's new destrier appeared to be of great stock, a massive stallion, with a dark coat. "You'll do just fine," Ghelfunn said while climbing on. "We'll get you into some action soon. It's what you and I were bred for."

Ghelfunn turned his warhorse toward the group of trees to provide a report to the Sovereign. As a member of the Sovereign's Supreme Guard, Ghelfunn and Udan had years ago sworn an oath to protect the Royal family at any cost, even death. 

As Ghelfunn approached the Sovereign's camp, he glanced to his right and immediately became alarmed. A small group of men on horses were riding straight for the group of trees shielding the High Royal. They wore black, which was odd. Ghelfunn knew that anyone fighting for the Sovereign wore appropriate battle colors. He noticed the leader, the one horseman out front, and thought he recognized him. Is that the queen's personal safeguard? What's he up to?

The horsemen, Ghelfunn estimated fifteen in all, were riding hard and would be at the Sovereign's camp in minutes. Ghelfunn had to act quickly. He scanned the battlefield and immediately knew he was alone, other members of the Sovereign's guard were too far away to be of any help. The Sovereign's army was scattered over the plateau, some wounded, many dead, and others still scrambling after Nprudi footman retreating back to the north. Ghelfunn looked for Udan and couldn't see his friend anywhere. For Rhemaden's sake, Udan! Ghelfunn groaned. Where are you when I NEED you!

Ghelfunn turned the Nprudi warhorse, jerking the reins hard to guide the animal straight toward the group of trees ahead. He galloped as fast as he could, hoping to make it to the Sovereign's perimeter guardsmen before the fifteen riders in black arrived. Maybe this is a false alarm, Ghelfunn thought. Has the day's battle fatigue set my mind to seeing dangers that do not exist? Why am I so worried? It's probably the queen's guardsmen bringing an important message to the Sovereign. But they are wearing black. That makes no sense!

The queen's small force disappeared into the trees before Ghelfunn arrived. Fifty yards distant he saw them ride into the underbrush, their black clothing fading into the darkness. He was too late. 

 

 

 

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