Defying Equilibrium

Chapter 5: The other kind of brother

Dare could barely move, the pain in his side was so intense. Holding the folds of his cloak against the wound, he tried to stem the bleeding, but he didn't have enough strength to keep pressure on the wound. He could see Oscar fighting the Swordsman, and he wanted to get up and help but he just couldn't. He knew that Oscar had taken a hit and wouldn't last much longer, but there was nothing he do.

Oscar could barely think now. He had lost a lot of blood, and was feeling weaker and weaker. Soon the Swordsman would hit him in the head, neck or chest with one of his swings and then it would be over. Dead in the woods, and no one would ever know. Gritting his teeth, he kept dodging, waiting for that fatal blow.

Zatirick's strikes were getting wilder and more unpredictable. He was getting frustrated that he couldn't seem to hit the fast boy. But they both knew the inevitable outcome, so he kept on swinging. He would hit him eventually, but it annoyed Zatirick that the boy was evading him. He didn't usually have this problem, especially with people from Shielder territory. But Zatirick grinned when the boy tripped on a tree root, and fell to the ground. He lifted up his sword.

Oscar closed his eyes then. He didn't want to see the blood spilling from his own body as he died. He had accepted his inevitable death at the hands of this attacker, so he just waited for the final blow. The final blow that never came.

Nothing happened. In confusion, Oscar opened his eyes and looked back up at the assailant. He was no longer swinging at him, sword in hand. Instead, he was lying on the ground facedown, dead, with a sword protruding from his back. What had just happened? One minute Oscar was done for, and the next...Oscar scrambled away from the still twitching body and crawled over to where Dare was lying.

Dare was concious, but barely. Oscar knew that Dare would bleed out before too long if they didn't do anything, so he began to tear strips of his own cloak and hold them against Dare's wound. He was so concerned about Dare that he didn't stop to think where the second sword had come even from, and who stabbed their attacker. That was a mistake.

Oscar stiffened when a bloodstained blade appeared at his throat, and he didn't dare turn around when an unknown voice began to speak from behind him.

“Foolish child,” said the deep voice. “you ignored every rule of survival ever written. I could slit your throat right now, but you're just lucky that I'm not that kind of man. You are nothing but lucky, boy.” The man sheathed his sword, and Oscar risked turning around to stare at this mysterious figure.

He was tall, with straight blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. He seemed both young and old at the same time, apparently ageless. His eyes were clear and blue and his expression was stern and intimidating. He did not seem like the kind of person you wanted to cross.

Oscar stared at him, wide-eyed. “Who...Who are you?” he asked.

The man shook his head. “I am no one, a dead man.” he replied. He gestured towards Dare. “Your friend needs care soon, or he will die. My home is not far from here, we will take him there.” It was not a question, it was a command. While Oscar wanted nothing more than to get Dare and himself as far away from this man as possible, he knew that the man was right. Besides, without their string trail, they were completely lost in this forest.

The man took off his cloak and tied it to two strong sticks to create a makeshift stretcher, and together they lifted Dare onto it, ignoring his groans of protest. They carried Dare the short distance to the man's home. Oscar was amazed how the man knew exactly where he was going without any kind of trail or markers. He and Dare would have gotten lost immediately had they tried to get back on their own.

The man's home was a small round hut. The walls were mud bricked, and the hut only had one round window. There was smoke rising from the chimney on the roof. When they arrived inside, they lay Dare down on the large wooden table that was in the centre of the room. Oscar sat on the chair nearest the table while the man began to examine Dare's wounded side.

“Your friend is lucky,” said the man. “Not as lucky as you, but still very lucky. You both ignored the second rule of battle; Always be on your guard, and never turn your back on an opponent. The rule of attention.” The man shook his head and looked at Dare. “You are stupid boys. What is your brother's name?”

“He's not my brother, and his name is Dare.” Oscar didn't see how anyone could think that they were related, they were so different looking. He motioned to Dare. “Will he be alright?” he asked.

The man nodded. “Your brother will be fine. I have seen more than my fair share of battle wounds. I know what I am doing.”

Oscar shook his head. “Again, he's not my brother. And thank you, for saving us from that... that person.”

The man just nodded again in acknowledgement. “You may call me Ahmed. And that was no ordinary person. Tell me, what did you and your brother do to capture the attention of the forest's eyes and ears?”

“Why do you keep calling him my brother? Why did that person attack us? And what do you mean the forest's eyes and ears?”

“You ask too many questions, boy. I will answer them for you in time. The seventh rule of battle is patience. Do not let impatience or boredom allow you to make mistakes.” Ahmed said, as he began to apply a light green paste to Dare's wound.

All of a sudden, Dare began to contort and twist, making sounds of pain through clenched teeth. Oscar shot to his feet, knocking over the chair in the process. Dare was kicking and turning, trying to squirm away while Ahmed just kept applying the paste.

“Dare!” Oscar cried. He grabbed Ahmed's arm and yanked him away from the table. “What the hell do you think you're doing to him!”

Ahmed looked at him calmly. “It is a healing salve,” he said just as calmly. “It will hurt him at first as it cleans the wound, and then it will heal it.” There was a hint of amusement on Ahmed's face as they both turned to look back at Dare, who had stopped moaning and twisting and now lay still, breathing unevenly. “And you just answered your own question. You are not related, no, but he is your brother. He is your brother in your heart, in the way that you care more for him than your own safety. That is a brother to me.”