Somebody please check over this before I post to RAAS.
An Arslaan Fan-Fic
Two Friends Part 2
"Lord Daryoon?"
"Come in," Daryoon sat up and immediately rubbed his
lower back in pain. Finally they had returned to Ekubatana.
He had been forced to stay up late, dining with the King and
the other royals. The King had toasted to him, a high
honor, on his bravery in the fields. That toast had given
him an unusually high amount of attention. Usually, after
he had turned down several women, most left him alone,
supposedly to sulk with himself. This time, however, they
were persistent as they had realized he would one day hold a
place close to the King.
After the King had forced him to drink several mugfuls
of wine he had finally broken down and conceded to dance
with some of the ladies. He had made a fool of himself.
The journey, his injuries, combined with the wine created an
unpleasant sensation of dizziness. Many a women had been
forced to hold a smile while he danced with them, stepping
on their toes with his heavy boots. He held his head in his
hands and was glad that the servant hadn't opened the
curtains yet.
The servant entered holding a tray with some morning
wine and food. The servant immediately realized Daryoon's
pains and after placing the tray on a nearby table, he
helped Daryoon lay back down and began to massage his
muscles.
"Ahhh," Daryoon sighed, "Thank you."
The servant was unused to compliments and was afraid to
reply back. Instead, he doubled his efforts to please his
lord.
Daryoon stared at the head of his beautifully carved
bed and followed the intricate lines that formed eye
pleasing designs. Truly a masterpiece. He ran his fingers
down his sheets the way smooth silk runs. He looked over to
his right and sighed again. Another reason his back hurt so
much was because of the bag.
The bag sat leaning against the same table the servant
had placed the food. It was a normal dirty travel-stained
bag that is usually found on the back of a horse. Daryoon
had carried it all the way back home on his own back. He
counted all the holes in it. Twenty-three holes. The bag
had saved his life. If not for the bag, he'd probably be
laying in a coffin, covered in the same twenty-three holes.
"At least it'd be better then left for dead in the
mud," he whispered, "like those poor foot-soldiers we left
behind..." then fell back asleep while the servant continued
to massage his back.
Daryoon woke with a start, then sighed again. The
servant was still working on his back. "What a wonderful
life," he sighed, glad to be awake from his dreams of war.
He closed his eyes lazily and then slowly opened them again.
He was about to close them again, enjoying the sensations
that the servant was playing across his back when he started
in surprise. The bag was missing!!
He turned to berate the servant then said, shocked,
"YOU!!"
"Good Morning, Lord Daryoon," said Narsus still holding
onto Daryoon's left shoulder which he had been working on.
"Where's the servant!?" Daryoon looked around the
room, noticing that there was now a wine bottle next to the
cup and food.
"Oh, I sent him back about an hour ago." Narsus gently
pushed Daryoon back down onto the bed and continued applying
pressure to Daryoon's back.
Daryoon flipped around onto his back and gently pushed
away Narsus' hands and sat up, pushed with his hands, and
placed his back against the front of the bed. "Sir, I wish
to thank you for the use of your steed and bag."
Narsus' nose seemed to have healed and he was dressed
in a slightly off-white silk shirt with thin lines running
across it in gold patterns and stripes and loose pants the
same color. Daryoon was surprised for a moment, Narsus
hadn't worn anything so "casual" during the campaign.
Narsus walked over to the curtains and with a graceful flick
of his wrist opened the curtains letting in the late morning
sun. He smiled as Daryoon scrunched up his face and shaded
his eyes then moved slightly to the right of his huge bed
until he could comfortably sit out of reach of the annoying
sunlight. They began to talk of the campaign, Narsus' voice
light and musical, Daryoon's low and somber. From time to
time, Narsus would sigh as Daryoon continued to add in the
"Lord" to his name.
Narsus moved over to the table and poured himself a
glass of wine. "Oh, don't worry about the horse. She's
called Morning. She seems to like you," Narsus smiled,
Daryoon was still adjusting to the sunlight. "But I can't
fathom why you're thanking me for the bag. In fact, why did
you carry that old heavy, horsepack all the way here. I've
heard from the others that you carried it on your back?"
"Take a look at the bag," said Daryoon, noticing it was
in the corner.
"Oh, I put it there because such a dirty, travel-
stained bag seems out of place near silk sheets and the
carved wood of your bed. Better to lay it in the corner
where it can partially be hidden." Narsus drank more of his
wine, then passed the cup toward Daryoon, who shook his head
lightly.
"No thanks. I had too much yesterday."
"I know. I heard," Narsus smiled again as Daryoon
frowned. "But one can't have too much wine," Narsus held
out the cup again.
Daryoon stared at Narsus' amiable face and sighed, then
took the cup. "I am thirsty."
Narsus stood and headed toward the bag. "I noticed the
holes. Arrows?"
Daryoon nodded, "Your bag saved my life. Thank you,
sir."
"Oh, stop it!! Please, call me Narsus. I was annoyed
with you and wanted to teach you a lesson. But it's a good
thing you were there, the Makrians could have easily slipped
out, I had forgotten that one of their provinces are
especially skilled in archery and that those particular
people are raised in the forest. Strange, they give their
countrymen such an advantage, but for some reason, the other
Makrians have some prejudice towards them." Narsus
shrugged.
Daryoon nodded. "Yes...but none of them carried any
swords."
"They prefer to stay hidden and strike their enemy from
afar. The other Makrians refer to them as, `Tiny dogs,'
believing them to be cowards because they are unwilling to
fight sword to sword. Now, tell me, what happened when you
ran into the forest that day?"
"They were quite surprised and I had thought that they
would not have enough time to nock their arrows, but I was
wrong. I have never seen such skill before!! Your bag...I
had barely swung my body around and off your steed, luckily
they weren't aiming at her." Narsus poured some more wine
for Daryoon. "Your steed is very smart, Lord Narsus. The
arrows dug deep into the bag, I could feel the very points
pressing lightly into my back," Daryoon voice was increasing
and getting faster as he remembered those exciting moments,
"Morning crashed into them, even though I was not on top of
her to command her, throwing them off and then I was upon
them. There were thirty of them and not one of them had a
sword. Instead, they seemed frightened!! HA!! It was like
a mouse fighting mice!! Can you believe, thirty!! I had
never fought so many before. It was only after I killed the
fifth one, weaving myself amongst them for protection, that
they began to fight back, but instead of swords, they used
their very own bows to attack me!!" Daryoon's face flushed
and he finally looked like his true age, hardly a man,
making his already elegant face far more prettier. Narsus
had always appreciated beauty and this was no exception.
Apparently Daryoon's first campaign had not dulled his
excitement for war and perhaps never will. "Can you
imagine!! Bows against armor and swords!!"
"Yet from afar, one of the most dangerous weapons,"
Narsus' serious voice calmed Daryoon down a little bit.
Daryoon nodded, "and you know the rest from then on."
Narsus took a gulp from the wine bottle, thinking hard.
"The Killians, the men you had killed in the forest, are
said to have been raised with a bow, made by their mothers,
in their hands. Yes, Daryoon, from your face I can tell
that you're surprised! Yes, the Killians allow their women
to fight. In fact, they're every inch as good as the men.
Those bows are precious to each and every Killian and
apparently they use the same bow throughout their life. The
bow itself is never to be harmed, only used to shoot. But
since you came upon them with such deadly force, it appears
they didn't really have much of a choice." Narsus took
another gulp. "I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of those
men you killed were actually women! Anyway, that is yet
another reason the Makrians slander them. The Makrians are
nearly as bad as Andragoras when it comes to dealing with
women. Ha!! Ah, but poor Andragoras. I've never seen such
a man humbled by a woman before in my entire life. However,
with Tahamane's elegant beauty and quick wit, it's almost
understandable!! HaHA!! Eh? Are you okay?"
Daryoon had been staring into the empty air in front of
his eyes, clutching his breast. Narsus quickly grabbed the
cup away from Daryoon before he spilled it.
Narsus shook Daryoon hard. "Lord Daryoon!! What's
wrong!"
Daryoon harshly whispered, "Women!!"
Narsus jerked erect, a little wine splashed out of the
bottle, in surprise. Then he began to laugh out loud!
Daryoon woke out of his shock in disbelief. "What are
you laughing about!!"
"Your guilt!!" Narsus took another large swig.
"What!" Daryoon yelled in a truly outraged voice,
nearly forgetting his grief.
"Now, now, my dear Daryoon," Narsus poured some more
wine out for him, "I'll explain, but first finish this."
Narsus sat down in his chair again.
Daryoon looked wildly at his cup then at Narsus, at
first unsure what to do.
It took all of Narsus' will power not to smile again.
Daryoon saw Narsus' serious face and eventually took a
sip from the cup. Then a gulp. "So," Daryoon asked.
"Well, I take it that you were hit with one of those
grieving guilts that nearly knocks people out, tricking you
into believing that you can no longer breathe. But don't
be. Believe me, Killian women are not raised like Palsians!
Any one of those Killians, whether they be man or woman,
would have coldly put an arrow straight into your heart,
then go striding off back into the forest where they are the
most comfortable."
"Yes, but..."
"No buts, Daryoon. You should have known this! Women
warriors are really not that rare! As a noble, you should
have met at least one or two of the Goddess Misra's Holy
Protectors."
"But they could hardly be called women!"
"I agree, they truly are too cold to be called human,
but I've never really talked with one, so who knows!?"
Narsus swung the bottle in small tight circles with his hand
then took another swig. "So you really don't have anything
to feel guilty about."
Daryoon nodded, not really feeling any better.
"But I see my words are not having a really calming
affect, as expected, my words generally tend to raise the
gall of others," Narsus stood, "but I'd like to give you a
thank-you present." Narsus stumbled toward the far wall and
picked up a large flat object that was covered by cloth.
"This is for you." Narsus stumbled towards the wall facing
the end of Daryoon's bed.
"A thank-you present? What for?"
"That's my secret." Narsus turned toward the door and
yelled, "BOY!!"
The servant came back in, "Yes, my lord?"
"Hang this please, I seem to keep losing my balance."
Narsus flopped back down into his chair.
The servant left and arrived again with a hammer and
nail. Narsus leaped out of his chair animatedly, then
slowly stumbled over to the wall. The servant began to
pound the nail into the wall in the center of it. Then
taking the cloth off, the servant hung the painting, staring
at it at first. Daryoon's eyes too locked onto the painting
and his face took on the same horrified features it had
earlier. Narsus secretly placed several coins into the
young servant's hands then told him to take the day off and
if anyone complains, then to tell them that Narsus had
ordered him.
"So, what do you think?"
The painting was a masterpiece, the colors nearly
perfect, as if one was staring at a field of greens and
trees during sunset with one's own eyes. In the middle of
this peaceful setting stood a man, hardly taking up any of
the painting, but immediatly grabbing the poor looker's eyes
and forcing it upon it. The man was dying, and clearly
suffering. A spear had been thrust through his belly, the
entire bottom of his clothing soaked with blood, as was the
grass and ground beneath him darkened the same. He was
slightly looking up at the beautifully done sun and weeping
with such grief.
Daryoon couldn't describe it. To paint such pain in so
minute detail...Daryoon couldn't look at it any longer. He
felt himself going insane. It frightened him so.
Narsus was too into looking at his own work to notice
Daryoon's reaction. Actually Narsus was doing his best to
give off that feeling when in fact he was too frightened to
turn around and see his new friend's reaction. Deep within
himself, through the hazy drunkeness, lay a fear of
rejection from this one man. And this too, Narsus feared.
It was something Narsus had never felt before.
"Hm...over at this corner could have used a little more
work, but before I had noticed, the oils had dried. I wish
I had found out about the campaign earlier. I would have
put off this project until then. Oh, well."
Daryoon tried to peek at the painting and failed and
instead said, "It's...interesting, but who is that man in
the center?"
Narsus still had not turned around. "When I started
this painting, I was thinking of Mani, the greatest of all
artists. But, you see, the grief on this man's face,"
Narsus pointed toward the painting, "is not um... grieving
enough? Mani had apparently died very young and was killed
by his young servant whom he had cared and loved. The grief
Mani felt, was said to have not been for his own death, but
the suffering that his young servant would feel when the
servant himself died. This grief, I tried to express here,
but its just not enough." Narsus shrugged.
"Then the servant, who wasn't a bad artist himself;
nothing of course compared to Mani; had taken Mani's
paintings (which have never been showed to the public, ever)
and used them to make his own fortune. He began to play
with high society, snubbing them with his popularity, but
eventually he was found out, the paintings he had done were
too simple, too boring, compared to the ones he had said
were his. Apparently Mani's mother, who had died long ago,
had a servant who had not only held onto Mani's earlier
works but had actually raised him from boy to man. Showing
Mani's ealier works, the old servant cursed the sly fox in
front of the public. It was obvious to everyone then.
Mani's servant was said to have gone insane and killed the
old servant then and there. The sly fox himself was stoned
and slain by the public, so great their outrage of his abuse
to such a grand man and what he had left behind. Truly
Mani's paintings were gift from the gods, if one truly
believes in such nonsense." Finally Narsus turned around
toward Daryoon, who had been staring out the window. "But I
see that I'm boring you with my drunken chatter. I think
I'll take my leave now." Narsus barely looked up and headed
toward the door.
Daryoon quickly turned around. "Oh! No, don't leave!
Truly, I find it interesting but...Oh, I can't stand it!!
Lord Narsus!! Please forgive me!! I cannot look at such
grief and the thought that it will be on my wall, facing me
as I sleep...it truly sets me at unease!! Please
understand, I appreciate the giving but the actual
present...Please, I wish it to be taken down." Daryoon
looked down, ashamed to be forced to slander this man's
work. Daryoon held his breathe at the silence that insued,
then was surprised as heavy bootsteps rushed at him and
grabbed his hands with passion. Narsus had tears forcing
their way out of his eyes.
"Truly!! Do you mean it!!" There was such hope in his
eyes. Daryoon didn't want to destroy it but one peek at the
painting was enough to make him.
"Yes. It truly frightens me and I cannot bear to look
at it any longer."
"OH THANK YOU!!!" Narsus slammed into Daryoon's chest,
nearly knocking him over.
The hug lasted for a few seconds, Narsus tightly
holding Daryoon's shocked body, then it loosened and Narsus,
face flushed, backed up. At first, realization at what he
had done made him shamed and he looked away, but then
Daryoon's comment reached him again and he smiled. Truly
smiled at Daryoon.
"Then I have achieved what I wanted!!" Narsus ran back
to the wall and pulled the painting off it. "This inspires
me so!! I'll keep it with the others that I enjoy!!" He ran
out the door and then ran back and yelled in, "If you want to
find me, I'll be at the end of Edding's Trail to the south, I
rented a small cottage there. Very pretty, very pretty.
I'll be painting!!" Then Narsus ran down the hallway,
sending servants diving to the sides.
Daryoon shook his head lightly and stared out the
window a little bit. "I've been lying down all day!!" he
realized Daryoon stood up and almost fell. He had not
realized that he too had drunk half the bottle of strong
Silikan wine. He lay back down and closed his dizzy eyes,
"What a strange friend that Lord Narsus is. Hm...are we
friends?" Daryoon hoped so as he fell asleep for the second
time that morning.
End Part Two.