arrested (From Sureshot the Assassin)

            Not long after they were there, Makler was given a name like Durbar’s. Because of his wild and fierce fighting style, they began the men began to call him Makler the Madman. Only initially did he protest the name, because actually he was very fond of it, and it encouraged him to fight ever the wilder. So they were a great pair, the Sureshot and the Madman. They were having a wonderful time atFortStena, and had never been happier. Then it all ended.

            One day while they were sitting in a large room listening to a lecture about the history of cavalry, armed guards entered the room. Four stood by the only exit. The officer leading the class stopped and waited for an explanation. One of the guards spoke up, “Is there a Durbar son of Adar here?”

            Durbar was paralyzed. He did not use his father’s name, and was shocked that the guards spoke it then.

            “Yes there is,” the class leader offered. “Durbar stand up!”

            Durbar’s face faded white as his heart sank. Sweat broke out on his forehead and in his palms and he felt at once cold and yet aflame.  “Are you Durbar son of Adar?” the guard asked him using his father’s name again as if it were more important that he find the son of Adar than a man simply named Durbar. His muscles tensed as his instincts told him to fight or fly. He quickly took account of his environment and sought a solution to the problem he faced. Like a wolf cornered against a cliff he felt as though he could either attack the man seeking him or jump off the cliff and hope he survived.

            “Yes I am he,” Durbar answered, his voice shaking.

            “Come with us,” the man ordered.

            Unsure, Durbar approached the men and they made a circle around him. Then the leader spoke again and confirmed the horror that Durbar feared.

            “By order of the Duke of Harmon you are under arrest for treason.”

            “What!” Durbar exclaimed, “There must be some mistake.” But he knew in his heart that the Duke had discovered who he was and had him arrested. Makler got up and appealed to the guards but they brushed him off. When he tried to forcefully free his friend a guard bashed him on the side of the head with the shaft of his pike. No one else moved, only stared in disbelief. One of the guards bound Durbar’s hands with rope behind his back and then led him away.

            He was escorted to an empty room; empty, that is, except for Prince Warren and his two guards. Durbar entered and immediately knew that there was some foul play involved. The guards held Durbar in place andWarrenaddressed him. He unrolled the scroll and read, “By order of the Duke of Harmon you, Durbar son of Adar, are hereby charged with treason and conspiracy against a member of the royal family. For this you will be tried in Harmon and sentenced to death.”

            “But I did not do anything,” Durbar reasoned.

            “Never mind that. You are going to return to Harmon with me today.”

            “What about Prince Rothan, can I speak with him?” asked Durbar desperately.

            “No!” shoutedWarren. “He can’t help you, and he never should have helped you in the first place. He could have killed us all, associating with an assassin.

            “Assassin? Are you mad? I haven’t killed anyone. What is this all about?”

            “You may find out when we reach Harmon but for now there is no need for you to waste your breath on me. I will not help you.”

            Durbar was given to the care ofWarren’s men and the Stena soldiers left. They took Durbar to a horse, which was already saddled and tied his hands around the animal’s neck so that he could not leap off and flee. Then one of them grabbed the reins of the horse and led it along. Durbar asked if he could gather his belongings, but was denied. Thus, they departedFortStena. Durbar did not leave the hero he thought he would be, but rather a prisoner. He still had hope that with Prince Rothan would come to his aid and clear the whole issue so he could return to Stena, but he underestimated Duke Orthan’s paranoia. The Duke was not about to let Durbar go free, and Prince Warren was more than willing to help his father destroy the Sureshot, hero of Harmon and Champion of the bow.

Rescued

In the early hours of the morning Rothan returned to Durbar under the keep, long beforeWarrenfound his way home. It was late enough that everyone except the guards were asleep, and even they were not very alert. He brought with him a bag filled with clothes for his friend. First he ordered the guard to hand over the keys to Durbar’s chains, then dismissed him to wait outside, explaining that he wanted to talk to the prisoner privately. The guard did not dare to disobey. Rothan then unbound the man and Durbar collapsed to the floor. The prince helped the bowman up and covered him gently with some clothes. Durbar winced when he placed a shirt on his back. After waiting for Durbar to gain the strength to move Rothan handed him a small jug with water. Durbar slowly drank, not fully able to quench his thirst.

Though Durbar was still not completely aware of what was happening, he was compliant. Rothan pushed away some crates that were gathered in a corner revealing a small door. With a few labored pulls he managed to open the door which reluctantly gave up its struggle to remain closed with a groan and a puff of dirty air. Rothan gathered up his friend Durbar, careful not to aggravate the wounds on his body, and together they limped through the narrow corridor pushing through cobwebs and leaving a trail through the thick dust on the stone floor. It was a short journey, but seemed to take ages for the badly beaten Durbar. At last they reached another forgotten door which was already forced open against the resistance of thick brush and weeds.

Waiting in the shadows was a small group of cloaked men, which appeared merely as shadows in the night. Rothan helped his friend to them. Durbar could scarcely hear what they were saying, but he gathered that they were going to take him into their care.

Rothan explained the scenario to Durbar. “These people are going to get you out of the city and away from my father. It is too dangerous for you to stay here. This is the best I could do. They have your things. I brought them from Stena, your bow too.” He began to weep once more, with tears rolling off of his cheeks.

Durbar could not do the same. He was bereft of tears. They were left on the floor of the keep. He did manage to smile. “Shhh.” He comforted. “It is all right.”

“No!” Rothan exclaimed. “It is not all right. It is all my fault. I got you into this. It was my ambition and drive that brought you here, and now your life in is danger.” Rothan was desperate to prove his loyalty to his friend, but Durbar did not blame Rothan, but instead was thankful for him.

“You gave me something that I never had before. You gave me a chance to be loved by people. You helped me to make something of myself. And you also have been a friend, which is something that I have never had before.”

“But it was because of me that it was all taken from you. You would have been better off staying in the forest, away from this city, and away from my father.”

“Perhaps not,” said Durbar, “the days since I arrived here have been the best in my life.”

From Sureshot the Assassin

In this scene, Prince Rothan arrives at the keep in Harmon where his friend Durbar, The Sureshot, is being held and tortured. He confronts his father and brother about Durbar’s arrest.

Rothan did not disappoint his brother. The very next day he arrived in Harmon and headed straight for the keep. It was nightfall when he reached the city, and found his family eating dinner.

He stormed through the doors of the keep and stomped toward the dining room making a clatter every step he took. He was still wearing his riding boots, dressed in his leather armor, and was armed with his sword. His men tried to keep up with him but lagged behind. He flung open the doors of the dinning room and searched the room for his brother. The servants sensed that a family feud was about to take place, and scattered. Orthan spoke out first.

“What is the meaning of this!” he roared. Rothan ignored him and addressed his brother.

“Why have you arrested my friend?” he bellowed. Warren was shrunk back in the face of his brother and so appealed with his eyes to his father. Orthan stood up to overpower his son’s fury. “Get out of here! How dare you barge in here with these demands while we are eating. Go change your clothes and remove your sword. Do not ever come in here like that again.”

“I am not leaving until I know under what charges you have removed my man from training and brought him here!” shouted Rothan unshaken by his father’s commands.

“Treason,” answered the Duke calmly and confidently.

“Treason? He hasn’t committed treason.”

“Yes he has. But you were so taken in by him that you did not even know it. He has plotted to assassinate me, as well as you and your brother. If you had eyes you could see it too. Ask your brother,” Orthan said motioning to Warren who was still seated. Warren did not miss the opportunity to side with his father against his brother.

“It is true brother. He and his father plotted to kill us and take the seat in Harmon,” said Warren

“How would they do that—they are not royal?”

“Durbar is,” explained Warren. “He is our cousin.” Now it was Rothan who was stunned. He straightened up and relaxed his arms. He broke his glare with his brother and stared for a moment straight ahead not focusing on anything in particular. His mouth fell open and he took one step backward as though blown over by a gust of wind. He rested his hand on the palm of his sword but it was not an offensive move, but rather a natural reaction of the news as Rothan paused to consider it.

“How did I not know?” Rothan asked calmly, regaining his wits.

“Because he deceived you my son,” said Orthan approaching the prince with his arms open for embrace. “He needed to get close to you in order to carry out his plan.” Rothan considered the charges, and rejected them.

“No! I do not believe it!” shouted Rothan as he eluded his father’s hug. He ran out of the room and into his own quarters to consider what he had learned. Orthan used his son’s disobedience against Durbar, rather than holding Rothan accountable.

“You see. Look what that man has done to my own son. He has turned him against me. What am I going to do with him?” he bemoaned.

“You should watch him father,” suggested Warren seizing his opportunity. “He is liable to side with the bowman. We cannot trust him now.”

Orthan heard his son’s words, but even then he did not wish to drive his older son away. Instead he wanted him to accept the woodsman’s fate, and participate in the hunt for Adar. He underestimated the connection between the two men. While Orthan and Warren returned to dining after the interruption, Rothan decided to see his friend.

Stena

      Another excerpt from Sureshot the Assassin. The boys are sent to train at the famed Fort Stena.

      The terrain increased in ruggedness and finally off in the distance, mountains appeared. They were the highest peaks in Dirka, the Stena Mountains. This only increased the men’s anxiousness. They strained for hours to catch a glimpse of the citadel. At long last the mighty fortress appeared as the road came around a turn. The men were awe struck. Never before had they seen such a magnificent structure.

            The road they were on led to an enormous citadel built into the side of the mountain. Huge ramparts and towers came up out of the rock and a gigantic iron gate barred entry. A multitude of colored flags danced in the mountain wind, and richly embroidered banners hung from windows and walls. The citadel had a total of six towers and a tall stone wall protecting the western side. The others were protected by the mountain itself. Fort Stena was large enough to house ten thousand soldiers, noblemen and women, and was complete with armorers and weapon smiths. It also had a number of shops and inns for the few people who lived there supporting the fort, and for some of the families of the soldiers there. In fact it was a small city, not much smaller than Harmon.

Stena was the epitome of strength and might. The great fort had never fallen, but had preserved the Dirkan military and royalty through many attacks. The greatest of military leaders in the Dirkan army lived at Stena, where they planned battles as well as defenses. The Dirkan heroes of old once stood there, and it was there that Durbar and Makler were going to train to be as great a warrior as they could be.

            Once they saw the mighty fort, it took several more hours before they actually reached it; more than enough time to take in the intimidating view of the structure. By that time Durbar and Makler were overflowing with anticipation, as were the other candidates. Very few people in Dirka ever got the opportunity to train at the great fort and they were among a select few. It was truly an honor.

Wolves

Here is a excerpt from Sureshot the Assassin, the completely unpublished sequal to The Sureshot. I hope that this whets your appitite for more.

            The men started to strip the bull and gut him, but their work was not unnoticed. There were some other hunters tracking the elk herd that day and they were interested in taking advantage of the work that had already been done. They watched patiently for a while sizing up their competition, the smell of blood filling their noses.

            It was not long before the temptation of stealing away a kill was too much to resist and the hunters encircled the friends and their meal.

Durbar sensed their movements and twice looked up and scanned the dark surroundings. Though he could see nothing, he was alert to a danger he could not identify. When he heard a soft growl however, he knew that he and his friend were in great danger.

“Rothan,” he whispered, but it was too low for his companion to hear. Again he whispered though a little louder, “Rothan.” The young prince pricked his head up and stared quizzically at the woodsman.

“What is it?” he asked lowly.

“Draw your sword slowly,” Durbar instructed, “but do not make a sudden move.” Durbar led by drawing his sword first and Rothan followed still unsure as to what was amiss. Durbar tensed and gradually stood up and his friend followed suit. Before he could stand completely upright the hunters attacked.

Half a dozen wolves rushed from the thick brush and bound toward the two men. Durbar and Rothan swung around, swords drawn, ready to meet them. The wolves did not slow their assault but continued to race towards the men. A wolf leapt at Rothan and he jumped backwards while swiping ineffectively at the snarling wolf. Another wolf reached Durbar from behind and the woodsman was forced to slash at him while leaping up to avoid a bite.

The men had survived the initial wave but the wolves encircled them and closed in with teeth barred, saliva dripping from their curled lips and a low growl rumbling from their collective throats. The men backed up until they bumped into each other facing away from one another, satisfied that their backs were covered.

Sureshot is Named

Shortly after meeting Durbar in the woods, Prince Rothan names him Sureshot….

 

            Back in Harmon the next day Rothan was busy drinking and telling anyone who would listen about the man he met in the forest during his hunting outing.  Rothan was a very popular man in Harmon.  Not only because he was the heir to the seat there and also in line for the throne of Dirka, but simply because he was a likeable person.  He had a good sense of humor, enjoyed the company of others and was also a kind man.  He may have been a bit flamboyant and maybe a little over confident but he was a prince.  It came with the territory.  A crowd of people was gathered around his table at the Lone Pine Inn.  His guards flanked him. Several flasks were scattered about Rothan, and his face was flushed from the ale he had already consumed.

            “It was amazing people.  I have never seen anything like it,” Rothan said as he related the meeting to several townspeople.  “He shot the cap right off Jeshker’s head with his bow.  I though he had killed him until I saw his hat on the ground behind him.”  The people listened with interest as the young prince related the story.

            “Then I told him to shoot the purse out of Fron’s hand from about… I’d say one hundred yards.  And you know what?  He did it.  I was stunned.  I had never seen anyone shoot like that.”  Rothan’s guards grumbled as the intoxicated prince made Durbar out to be a great hero of sorts.

            “Who was this man?” one of the listeners asked, “What was his name?”

            Rothan thought for a minute trying to recall the man’s name.  He had a bewildered look on his face.  Then he answered, “You know, I don’t know.  I forgot to ask him.  But the way he shoots a bow he should be called ‘Sureshot.’ Ha ha! Yes, that is what I will call him.  Although he is coming here before spring.”

A Day in the Woods

This is one of my favorite scenes because it is of Durbar in his element…the woods. He spends most of his time out of his comfort zone (which is the point) but here he is at his best.

            “Hey there my good man, what are you doing in these woods?” said the leader.

            Durbar pulled back the hood of his black cloak revealing his face, sharp deep blue eyes and hair, which was tied back.  He quickly studied the three men who were mounted before him.  The one who addressed him was the leader, Durbar guessed.  He was tall with broad shoulders but a boyish face, yet intelligent looking.  He had sandy hair that fell at his shoulders.  His eyes were wide and his face held an expression of curiosity.  The other two had blank faces.  Square and cold they looked dark to Durbar.  He stared into the eyes of the man who spoke to him and answered, “hunting.”

            “So are we,” said the man in the middle lightly.

            Durbar laughed smugly, “One would never guess it,” he replied.

            “What is that supposed to mean?” responded the man annoyed at Durbar’s lack of manners.

            “You make more noise than bears mating on a bed of dried leaves, and you are dressed like circus clowns I imagine, and furthermore you already scared off the buck that I had marked.”

            The three men stood in shock from what the bold young woodsman said.  One of them reached for his long sword but the leader raised his hand halting him.

            “Do you know who I am?” said the leader.

            “I know you are no hunter,” replied Durbar, “and I have been told that people who have to ask others if they know who they are, are no one of consequence.”

            The man became angry from the insults the young man was hurling at him. “Look here peasant.  I am Prince Rothan, nephew to King Tokab, ruler of the Dirkan kingdom, my father is the Earl of Harmon, and I will not tolerate your insults.”

            “Well prince Rotten Ham,” said Durbar making play of the prince’s name. “It is a pleasure to meet you, and now will you kindly take your dogs and leave so that I may track the buck you scared off.”

            With that remark the man to Rothan’s right had heard enough.  He drew his long sword, held it high, and spurred his horse, sending it charging forward.  In a move that was lightning quick Durbar dropped to one knee, pulled an arrow from his quiver, and fired it at the head of the charging man.  Stunned by the bowman’s quickness he watched as the arrow flew from the man’s bow and sailed toward his head.  The arrow rose up, caught the man’s colorful cap and snatched it from his head.  It sailed a few more yards before it fell to the ground still stuck in the cap.  The man stopped his horse, looked up at his head expecting to see an arrow in his forehead, and then looked back at the bowman.  Durbar had already notched another arrow.  The other two men looked simultaneously at the capless man, back at his cap that lay behind them and then back to Durbar.  All of them sat in their saddles amazed.

            Durbar spoke first, “Charge me again and you won’t just lose your hat.”