Chapter 6: The Dawn of a Stormy Life

Ekubatana, The Palsian Year 311.

~ ~ ~

They went back to Narcasse's room. It was bright and sunny. Darun took two towels from a servant and offered one to Narcasse. Narcasse looked at it. He did not reply. Darun gave up. He sat down next to Narcasse and attempted to dry off his hair. He ran his warm hands through the other's cold hair. Narcasse shivered. Darun said nothing. He stood up and tugged on Narcasse's arm. Narcasse stood up obligingly, not looking at him, not looking at anyone. Darun opened the door and tugged again. Narcasse followed.

Narcasse woke up. For a moment, he looked around his bed, hoping to see Darun. Then it hit him: that the images of him kissing Darun were only part of a vivid dream. He felt disappointed by reality and he laid on his bed for a little while, closing his eyes and wanting to make his dream appear again. It did not. Sighing, Narcasse started to reflect on reality. It took him a few minutes before he recalled the events of the night before. It took even longer to reconfirm that the events of his dream, no matter how much he wished had been true, had never happened.

What had happened, though, was that yesterday Darun had given him a hug. Wearing clothes, of course. In the rain. Darun, whom he had not spoken to for goodness knows how long, had stood out there in the rain with him. They had stayed until Narcasse had finally recollected himself. Then they walked back together to the castle. They said not a word to each other when they parted ways, though Darun had given his shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking away. Afterwards, Narcasse had gone to the men's bath by himself to warm up.

Narcasse was annoyed with himself. Why did he have such a silly dream? It was as if it were simply made up for the viewing pleasure of someone else. Irritated, he lay back on his bed. Why did he dream about Darun? Did seeing him again, touching him, bring back everything he had been trying so hard to forget?

And unlike his dream, where everything had suddenly become so crystal clear at the end, Narcasse was still confused about Darun's actions. Did this mean they were friends again? Or was he simply trying to comfort him about--

Then he remembered: Lord Cheiron was dead.

The realization returned to him. Dead. Lord Cheiron was dead. And suddenly, Darun was the last person on his mind as Narcasse grieved for the only father he had ever known.

---

A week had passed since Lord Cheiron's death.

Darun was unable to engage in Narcasse's company alone, although he had tried to do so on numerous occasions. But whenever he had passed by Narcasse, he had seen the other with someone else. Not wanting to be a third party in their affairs, he would continue walking by and not say anything. The first time he had passed by Narcasse, the other had nodded at him. Other times were similar, but otherwise, he had not talked to his former friend.

So he was surprised when one evening he opened the door to find Narcasse. The bags underneath Narcasse's eyes were evidence that the last few days had not been kind to him.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Then Darun stepped aside and without another word, let Narcasse in. Narcasse walked to the center of the room but did not sit down. Instead, he chose to stand against the wall.

Darun broke the silence first. "How have you been?"

Narcasse answered truthfully. "Awful." He paused, and then continued. "There's been a lot of unfinished business that Lord Cheiron left behind that I have to sort through and clean up. And then there were the meetings with other officials, and one even with the king to make sure that I understood my new position." Although his voice remained as Darun remembered it, there was a trace of something else that Darun could not quite pinpoint. It was not sadness. Bitterness, perhaps?

Darun tried to think of an appropriate response. He gave up. "I'd congratulate you, but that would be tactless. My condolences instead. For your loss."

Narcasse looked thoughtful. "The majority of the people I've spoken to have only congratulated me."

Darun did not know what he was supposed to say to that. So he said what he felt. "Lord Cheiron was a very good person."

"Yes, he was." Pause. "Anyway..." Narcasse found it was difficult to maintain eye contact with Darun, so he stared at the other side of the room instead. "Anyway. About that night. In the rain. Thanks."

Darun nodded. "Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you. Mind sitting down?"

The slight crease in Narcasse's brow told Darun that he was uncertain, but after a moment, he sat down on one of Darun's chairs. Darun sat on the floor, leaning against the edge of his bed.

"Yes?"

Darun told Narcasse what the old man had told him two years ago, the story about Lord Cheiron's past. If asked later why he had decided to do so then, he would not have been able to answer. All he knew was that, before death, the old man had asked him to do two things: to tell Narcasse the story and to take care of Narcasse. He was not sure how well he would be able to perform the latter request, though he supposed the incident after the funeral might have counted. But there was still the matter of the story, and the promise he had made to tell it.

Narcasse was silent when he finished. Finally, he asked, "When did he tell you this story?"

Darun thought hard. "Sometime before our...fight." He struggled to remember. "I think that day...the day of our first fight. When you came back late."

"Ah yes. The day I had my first sexual encounter in the Shades with a certain gentleman," Narcasse mused.

Darun remembered the stranger who had walked Narcasse back. He thought of the rumors that were now circulating of Narcasse's affairs. He decided not to ask; he did not want to hear the answer. Instead, he changed the subject. "So was there anything else I could do for you, Lord Narcasse?"

Narcasse frowned, displeased. Darun shook his head. "I didn't mean to offend you, Narcasse. I was just sort of testing out the title." He felt stupid trying to explain his actions, as he rarely analyzed the reasons for why he did what he did. "I just wanted to know if there was any other reason you dropped by." As Narcasse's tightened lips told him that he had further offended the other, Darun spoke more hastily. "Not that I mind the visit, not the least. I just wanted to know if there was anything else you wanted to say before I could talk to you about something."

Narcasse hesitated, then nodded. "Well, there was something else I wanted to ask you." At Darun's nod of assent, Narcasse stared past him as he started to speak.

"Lord Cheiron left behind his house, which is a retreat in the mountains. I'm planning on riding up there tomorrow to take a look and I was wondering if you would be interested in coming along."

"Why me?" The words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Narcasse did not find his question strange. "It's because...of everyone I know, you are the only fr--person who had also known him the way I did. He was very fond of you. One of my last arguments with him--" His voice broke off and then he was silent for a moment before he continued. "Everyone else who knew him was from his generation. They knew him as a co-worker, an equal, perhaps. You and I both knew him as someone...older. Authoritative figure. From our generation's perspective. As--"

"As someone like a father," Darun finished for him.

Narcasse did not look at him. "Yes."

Darun hesitated. "If you don't mind, then yes. I would like to come."

He felt slightly better to see Narcasse relaxed his shoulders. It meant that Narcasse was relieved. He really did want him to come.

Narcasse breathed out, then looked at Darun. "Well? There was something you wanted to talk about?"

This time Darun was the one who avoided looking at the other man. "Do you hate me?" A sharp inhale of breath in response. "I mean. I don't know. I thought I would hate you after our fight. When I tried to talk to you a month later, and you brushed me off, I thought I did hate you. Then we avoided each other and I tried not to think about you. But when I heard about Lord Cheiron, all I could think about was you. I was so worried about you. When I realized you might have still been in the graveyard, I was horrified. I thought I hated you, but I guess I don't hate you as much as I thought I did."

He paused. "I don't hate you at all."

Finally, he looked up, sincere blue eyes meeting startled brown. "About that night. And the other time with King Andragoras. I'm sorry." He looked back down. "I don't expect you to forgive me. Or for us to become friends like we used to be. I just wanted to say it. I'm sorry." He felt relieved when he had finished; the apology had been weighing on his mind ever since he had given Narcasse the hug in the graveyard. He had lacked the courage to say it whenever Narcasse had been with someone else, so to finally clear his conscious was a huge relief.

He heard the sound of soft footsteps, and then Narcasse sat down next to him. When Narcasse spoke, his voice lacked the bitterness Darun had detected earlier. "I'm sorry too. It was just-- with His Majesty --"

Darun sighed, and leaned his head back. "I get it now. You wanted to be responsible for just your own actions. Not mine too."

Narcasse took a deep breath. "Yes."

Darun felt as if he was finally able to breathe again, so great was his relief. A comfortable, familiar silence set in.  

"So I'll see you tomorrow then?"

---

They rode out to Lord Cheiron's old home. There were several paths to reach the secluded retreat in the mountain. Lord Cheiron had left a map of it in his study, and so Narcasse and Darun opted to take the easiest route there: that of the Great Road, the main trade road that went through Palse and it's neighboring countries.

They arrived at the house, and looked around. The place, though not too large, was cozy and comfortable. Narcasse declared that when he was old, he would retire there. Darun smiled at that and examined the map. There were three primary ways to reach the house-- two were through smaller, less traveled and less known paths that went through forests and other areas that would guarantee a more exciting ride. The other was through the Great Road, the way by which they had come. He suggested that they take one of the obscure paths on the way back; Narcasse agreed.

They spent two days in the house. By the end of the first day, they were accustomed to talking to each other again. By the end of the second, they were once again friends. The only obstacle to them becoming as close as they had been before were the many subjects that had somehow, by virtue of silence, become taboo topics: Narcasse's confession and his former interest in Darun, the rumors about Narcasse, and Darun's over protectiveness.

On the morning of the third day, they set back out to return via one of the obscure paths. This path ran through the forest, and though not as easy as the path of the Great Road, the ride promised to be more challenging.

"Race you to the end of the forest?" Darun asked. Narcasse gave him a strange smile, thinking of his past dream.

"Challenge accepted!"

And they were off. Both were equally skilled horsemen, though Darun had more practice, since he went riding more often with his friends. Narcasse was in lead, then Darun, then Narcasse, and then Narcasse suddenly pulled the reins of his horse and stopped. Puzzled, Darun followed likewise after passing him. He pulled the reins again and had the horse turn around, to see why Narcasse had stopped.

In front of Narcasse, on the ground, was an unconscious man. In his hand, he clutched a scroll while his yellow uniform indicated that he was a Palsian soldier.

Narcasse dismounted and knelt by the man for a closer inspection. "He's dehydrated."

Darun looked grim. "We better take him back, then." Narcasse's new house was the closest place nearby.

---

Lord Cheiron's home had a well located in the back and from there, Darun was able to obtain water to give to the fallen man.

Narcasse, meanwhile, pried the scroll out of the person's hands. When Darun returned, he found Narcasse reading it. Narcasse frowned.

"What does it say?"

"We need to get back to the palace." Narcasse stood up and handed the message to Darun. "The Turans have declared war and are attacking the Eastern Border."

---

They could not leave the dehydrated man behind without risking his death, so Narcasse rode with the messenger strapped to his horse. When they arrived back at the palace, Narcasse went to have someone look after the latter while Darun brought the message to the king.

King Andragoras examined the message in silence. "We have no idea if there is real or not. You didn't take the time to investigate it?"

"No, Your Majesty," Darun said, kneeling before the king. In his peripheral vision he spotted Prince Arslan, watching. The young boy of four looked curious. "We were afraid that if we did so, Sire, the messenger would die in our absence and we felt that there was more information that could be found from his lips than anywhere else."

King Andragoras grunted. "We?"

"Royal Historian Narcasse and myself, Your Highness."

"I see." The king pondered the message. "We need someone to scout this situation before taking any further action. Darun, since you have brought me this news, I will make you responsible for it. Take seven men and go to the Eastern border. Report back what you find."

Darun felt the eyes of his uncle upon him. He bowed again, and took his leave.

---

"What happened?" Narcasse asked, meeting Darun outside of the throne room.

"His Majesty wants me to bring seven men with me to the Eastern border to investigate the situation," Darun replied.

Narcasse frowned, displeased. "We don't know how long the Eastern border has been attacked, and he wants us to wait? If you're attacked while over there, seven men will not help. He should've given you five hundred, at least."

Privately, Darun agreed. He said instead, "We are in no position to question His Majesty's imperial command." He looked steadily at Narcasse. "Do you want to be one of the seven?" He regretted the words as soon as he had asked. He felt that he was on a possible suicide mission, and there was no reason to drag down his friend down with him. "On second thought, you would probably be more needed back here to..." he was never quite sure what the Royal Historian's position entailed. "Record history and give the king counsel." That sounded good enough. He continued fibbing, "Yes, you probably best stay here. Actually, since I'm the one deciding who's coming, you ARE staying here."

Narcasse gave him a look of disbelief. "I'm coming, of course. A Royal Historian should make history, not just record and analyze it. I found the messenger, same as you."

Darun frowned and opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't make my decisions for me, Darun," Narcasse said, a trace of anger in his voice. "You know you have no reason to deny my request. I can sword fight and ride as well as you."

Darun sighed. It was true. "Fine." He gave his friend an unhappy look and tried one last time to convince the other to stay. "But it is probably going to be a near-death situation, Narcasse. Of everyone here, I would want you to die the least. I would be happier if you stayed."

Narcasse blinked. He appeared at a loss for words, which Darun assumed meant that he was thinking over his decision. Darun waited, still hoping that Narcasse would stay. Finally, Narcasse's brows narrowed, an indication of determination. The look told Darun that any further arguments with Narcasse would be futile.

"I'm coming."

---

They were joined by Kharlan, Kubard, Hanch, Loowd, and two others around their age: Hesam and Vahid. Darun had been careful to pick men in their prime, and had decided to leave the more seasoned soldiers behind, should the back up be necessary. The last two, Hesam and Vahid had insisted on coming after they had heard that Narcasse was leaving. They were part of his group of friends. Darun watched as Narcasse pulled them aside and talked to them for a few minutes before finally giving consent. He did not look please, however, Darun did not ask.

It took them nearly four days to arrive at the Eastern border. Darun scouted ahead. He surveyed the area from the top of a cliff and did not like what he saw. There was an army of men, and the flags they carried were not the familiar Palsian yellow. They had surrounded Castle Peshawal, the largest Palsian stronghold on the Eastern border. The castle was under siege.

Narcasse said, "This looks bad." Darun was surprised to see him, since all the others had agreed to wait behind as he scouted ahead, but he was grateful for the company. "We should send Hesam and Vahid back to the palace and tell King Andragoras the news."

Darun said, "His Majesty will be displeased with so little information." He frowned. "We could all go back, you know. We don't need to stay."

"But you want to, don't you?"

Darun hesitated, then nodded. He did not want to ride back only to return to ashes. A thought occurred to him and so he asked: "Why Hesam and Vahid?"

Narcasse said nothing for a moment. Then he shrugged. "They're not particularly skilled fighters."

"Then why did they come?" Darun mentally kicked himself for not investigating them earlier. He had assumed that since they were Narcasse's friends that they must have had SOME kind of skill. He had been so desperate to leave that he had accepted anyone that seemed remotely qualified, and Narcasse's association had been enough of a qualification.

"They didn't want to leave me alone."

Darun frowned. "Then why did you let them come? I assumed you were recommending them."

Narcasse gave him a strained smile. "They are not skilled fighters, however, they are terrific riders. They will get to the palace faster than any of us will. I don't know if you noticed while we were coming here, but we slowed them down."

Darun had noticed something of that like, so he finally acquiesced to Narcasse's request. Hesam and Vahid protested at the commands, but then Darun ordered them, so they left.

"So what are we going to do, Darun?" Kubard asked. "I know we're good fighters, but that's insane. There are over hundreds of Turan soldiers, more than a few hundred for each of us."

Kharlan, who did not like the fact that Darun was the one commanding him, agreed. "We should just go back like Narcasse's lovers." He glared at Narcasse. "He gave them an easy out, Darun. You shouldn't have listened to him."

Darun's reply was immediate. "Shut up, Kharlan. Narcasse is smarter than all of us combined. If he thinks it was a good idea, then I trust his judgment."

Narcasse gave Kharlan a mocking smile. "Are you envying my former lovers because they were able to run away, Lord Kharlan? I assure you-- should the time come and you wish to flee, I will not stop you."

Darun and Kharlan both frowned while Kubard laughed. "He's got you there, Kharlan." Kubard looked at Narcasse. "So what do you think we should do, Oh Wise One?"

Narcasse looked thoughtful. "We only saw the Turan army below. We don't know how our own forces are doing. We should split up: three each, and see if we can look to find out more about our own side. In smaller groups, we would be less likely to be detected."

Darun nodded in agreement. It made sense. "We meet back here at sunset."

Kubard, Narcasse, and Darun went left. Kharlan, Hanch, and Loowd went right.

---

Castle Peshawal was an impressive fortress. The main entrance was by the front, which was where the Turans were. The fortress wall encircled the building, stretching far beyond the castle. The other entrance was at the back side of the castle, which was at the edge of the mountain. The only way to reach it was across two bridges: one of stone, one made of wood. The one of stone was far too narrow to cross with more than one person on it at a time, however, it was in usable condition. What stopped the Turans from surrounding this area was this fact: they had never ventured to look at the other side of the fortress, and so the second entrance was unknown to them. Even if they had, they would have had a difficult time crossing, for archers were standing on top of the fortress walls and able to shoot anyone who attempted to cross the bridges. The wooden bridge was old, and too loose to be of any purpose.

It was through this back entrance that Kubard, Narcasse, and Darun were able to enter the castle. Narcasse had guessed by looking at the architecture of the building that there was another entrance, and so the other two had followed his advice to look for another way in, at the back of the castle. When they reached there, they had announced themselves as Palsians and were allowed to enter.

Lord Quishward greeted them warmly, and asked them when relief from the king would come. "I only have a few hundred soldiers in this castle," he explained. He was promoted to general when Andragoras had become king, and had only recently been appointed to watch over Castle Peshawal.

Inwardly, Narcasse cursed the king. All that mattered to King Andragoras was power. He enjoyed being stronger than others and so, when he had become king, he had declared that he wanted the Ekubatana army to be twice its current size. Thus, many of Peshawal's former residents had moved to the capital after the change of kings. One result was that Castle Peshawal was now understaffed, and would fall if the siege continued.

"How many days have you been holding?"

"Almost a week. Has the king gotten any word? I've sent out Azrael a few days ago, and some messengers before that. We need reinforcements. Badly." Azrael was Lord Quishward's pet eagle. "Only reason we haven't fallen yet is because I've stationed archers to shoot down anyone who comes too close to the front gate."

"Can you take us to the top?" Narcasse asked. "At the front of the gates?"

Lord Quishward followed the request and they were taken to the top of the front gate.

"Any idea why they're attacking now?"

"Since King Andragoras became king, the Turans wanted to test to see how responsive of a king he was." Lord Quishward was somehow able to say the words without a trace of irony. "They had been waiting for the king to attempt to make some kind of pact with Turan, but His Highness had never even bothered to look in their direction. So they grew angry and came here. Any chance of reinforcements?"

"We've sent for help this morning. If you've sent out Azrael a few days ago, then they should already be on their way."

"So we just have to hold."

"We just have to hold."

Narcasse studied the sky. "I have an idea," he announced. "But we have to act quickly." He looked at Kubard. "Can you look for Kharlan and the others?" He turned to Lord Quishward. "And can you take me to your storage supplies? Not food supplies, but your spices."

Lord Quishward led them to the supply room. Narcasse found what he was looking for and gestured for it to be brought up.

--

Kharlan and the others joined them.

"What's in the barrels?" Kharlan asked. He shivered. It was getting windy.

Lord Quishward looked equally mystified. "You ARE the Palsian Royal Historian, correct?"

They loaded the barrels onto the top of the gate walls, at the farthest eastern corner. There were five barrels total, and they were equally spaced apart.

"When I give the word, the barrels need to be thrown at the armies," Narcasse said. "The contents need to be tossed as far as possible. This has to happen exactly when I say so. Can we get two men stationed at each barrel to do this task?"

Lord Quishward called for men to stand over the barrels while Narcasse looked at his friends.

Narcasse pointed at a figure in the Turan army. "He's our target. Get ready. When I give the signal, we're going to charge. You'll need something thin to cover your eyes, though. Like a scarf." He looked at Lord Quishward. "I know you doubt my plan. So let me borrow as many men as you can trust with me." He added, as an after thought, "They should probably get something to shield their eyes as well."

Lord Quishward nodded, slowly. He ordered fifty men to get ready.

--

"Why is he our target?" Kubard asked, eyeing the figure in the crowd.

"He's the Turan king's son," said Narcasse, smiling. "You can tell by the helmet he wears."

Kubard looked at Darun, who shrugged.

Kharlan asked again, "What's in the barrels?"

Narcasse ignored him. He looked at Darun. "Darun, can you get him?"

Darun nodded.

"Good. Go downstairs. You can lead Quishward's men. When the gate walls open, charge forward. Capture him and then come back."

Lord Quishward balked. "We can't open the walls! That'll let them come in."

"We can," said Narcasse, and his voice sounded serious. He pointed at the sky. "Can you see that?"

"What?"

"How fast the clouds are moving away from us. It's the wind. In a few minutes the wind will be at its strongest. This is the mountains; you often get strong winds, correct?"

Lord Quishward nodded.

"Strong enough to knock a man off course?"

"Sometimes."

Narcasse nodded, satisfied. "And that's why we can open the gates." He laughed, then gestured at Darun to go, and Darun left.

---

When Narcasse gave the signal, the barrels of red pepper spice were thrown at the Turan army. At that instant, a strong wind came from the east. It was strong, perhaps one of the strongest winds that had ever passed by Castle Peshawal, a stormy wind without the presence of rain. It blew in the direction away from the castle, spreading the pepper, which blinded the men hit by it. The soldiers began screaming.

The castle gates opened.

--

"Why are we listening to him?" Kharlan complained, when they reached downstairs. "And why do we have to wrap our heads in scarves? It'll make it harder to see!"

Darun shrugged. He was also starting to doubt the wisdom of his friend's plan, but it was too late to back out now.

And then the castle gates opened and they charged.

---

Against everyone's doubts, Narcasse's plan worked. The pepper powder blinded the enemy, giving them enough distraction time to run out, cut down as many as they could, and then kidnap the Turan prince. They returned, triumphant, with their prisoner.

The Turan army stopped attacking. The Turan prince had been their absolute leader on the attack, and without him, the army was thrown into confusion. They retreated a little distance away, and laid camp, just as they had days before.

The next morning, the Palsian reinforcements arrived and drove the Turan army away.

-------------------------------------------------------

notes: ok, so i decided to give narcasse a little Zhuge Liang power. ^^;; he was this strategist that "summoned" the east wind in the chinese novel, Romance of the Three Kingdoms. I figure, if Narcasse could pull off the same thing with Silvermask and a hurricane, there's no reason why he couldn't pull this off. the wind came from the east side of the fortress, btw. ::cough::

and yes, the first part was pure, gratuitous fan service. ^__~ written solely for the reader's viewing pleasure and much more influenced by GW fanfics than i would like. i had originally planned out a scene similar to it, then i realized it didnt fit the characters at ALL and so i made it into a little dream.

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Chapter 7: That Which Binds Me Still

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