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Part II - Conjunction
Early one morning, Ulf stepped out through the gate of the compound and set off toward town; Boralis had sent him out to collect a cask of special wine he'd ordered, for a business reception. He was concentrating hard on the task he had to perform, and was blithely unaware of the world around him; he completely failed to notice the figure that trailed him at a discreet distance.
While Ulf's physique was far more than impressive, he was nevertheless a simple and sensitive soul; he'd been repeatedly teased about his height and slow-wittedness since he was a boy, and this had driven him to become almost hermit-like in his approach to the world. Boralis gave him food and shelter, in return for odd jobs and errands (like this one), and otherwise left him to himself; which suited Ulf just fine.
As Ulf approached the town, he saw a half-dozen or so of the town's more undisciplined young men (the nearest it had to a street gang) blocking the road ahead. He sighed; he'd dealt with them before. There was no other route to where he had to go, so he just kept walking forward and hoping they were in a good mood.
Unfortunately, they weren't.
Most people would have been more than a little daunted by Ulf's sheer size, but this group knew that Ulf was a gentle giant, and they could taunt him with impunity. Feeling the need to cause someone else pain, the gang blocked the path; Ulf reluctantly slowed to a stop, never once looking higher than the ringleader's boots.
"Where're ya going, ya big dumb oaf?" the leader (who happened to be the Mayor's son) asked. Ulf remained silent. "Looks like he ain't talkin' today!" the leader continued, to the rest of the gang. "Maybe the cat's got 'is tongue!"
One of the group drew a dagger, and said: "Let's find out - ehrk!" as the tip of a longsword slid under his chin from behind.
"And what brings you gentlemen out on this fine day?" queried the blonde, armoured stranger with the sword.
"This's none of your business! Butt out!" said the gangleader.
"Ehrk!" said the ruffian with the dagger, who'd moved just a bit too much for Flynn's liking. He spasmed in fear, and the dagger fell to the ground.
"This man works for Mr Boralis, who also employs me," Flynn addressed the group. "You know what I think? I think that makes him my friend; and I don't take kindly to my friends being interfered with." Ulf's eyes went a little wide at this, but Flynn failed to notice, and continued. "Now, I repeat: what brings you gentlemen out on this fine day?"
"Er, nothing really, just going for a walk," the Mayor's son said as the group backed away. "This was all just a misunderstanding, honest!"
Flynn lowered the sword, much to the relief of the youth who'd drawn the dagger; he turned and ran off after the others. Flynn sheathed his sword, then picked up the dagger and tucked it in his belt.
"Come on Ulf, let's get your errand done; I don't think they'll bother you for a bit." Ulf nodded, his face expressionless, and the pair walked off in silence.
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The pair had collected the wine cask and were well on their way back, still in complete silence. Suddenly, from behind them, a fist-sized rock flew out and struck Flynn on the back of the head. His world went black and he dropped, like a puppet with its strings cut.
Ulf carefully put the barrel of wine on the ground, and turned around. In the roadway, the gang of youths had gathered, jeering. "That'll teach 'im to mess with us!" the Mayor's son laughed.
Then a most unexpected thing happened. It was to give many of them nightmares for years, and instantly cured most of them of their disorderly conduct for the rest of their lives. Ulf, the 8 1/2 foot tall, 325 lb gentle giant, opened his mouth, roared, and charged straight at them! Bodies flew in all directions; Ulf struck each one of them only once, but every one of them was unconscious before he hit the ground - and stayed that way for several hours.
When Ulf realised that there was nobody left to hit, he carefully placed Flynn over one shoulder, picked up the wine cask in the other arm, and ran back to the compound.
The others looked up in surprise, as Ulf came pelting in through the gate with his unusual burden. He looked around, spied Leandra, and ran over to her. Quickly putting the barrel down, he then gently lowered Flynn to the ground, and said "Please help Flynn!" Seeing Leandra take charge of the situation, Ulf took the cask over and left it on Boralis' porch. He returned to watch with a look of concern on his face.
After a while, Flynn began to stir; Ulf beamed. "What hit me?" asked Flynn, as he struggled unsteadily to his feet.
"Rock," said Ulf, simply.
Flynn looked puzzled for a moment - he couldn't seem to think clearly - then nodded in understanding. That was a mistake; Flynn winced as the world swam, and a pounding headache set in. "What happened? How'd I get back here?"
Ulf thought hard for a moment, then said "Flynn Ulf's friend; bad men hurt Flynn; Ulf must help."
There were several sets of raised eyebrows at this; but Flynn just grinned and patted Ulf on the back. "Thanks, my friend."
That evening at mess, there were seven dining at the long table.
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About a month later, the seven set out to escort yet another shipment back to Boralis' compound. The intervening time had been uneventful, much to Sasha's relief; she still dreaded the thought of facing battle alongside this group, although she felt a little better having Flynn's combat skills added to her own.
Flynn noticed her scowling blackly. He edged his horse a little closer and leaned over. "What's wrong?" he queried.
"They're still as hopeless as ever," Sasha replied with an exasperated sigh, indicating the rest of the group. "I'm glad to have you here of course, but what good will the others be in a fight!? I admit, I've started to grow a little fond of them all, but that doesn't mean I'm prepared to bet my life on their skills."
Flynn looked around at the motley group, and made a noncommittal noise in response.
Sasha continued. "Just last week, Wolmark destroyed two of the archery butts with his latest 'invention'; Trinias was most annoyed. He'll kill us all with those gadgets if he's not careful! Kwon refuses to use any melee type weapons, insisting on using shuriken, throwing daggers, and hand-to-hand martial arts techniques; he'll be dead in ten seconds, if he comes up against a skilled opponent with a good sword! Ulf's great strength might be an asset; but knowing how gentle he normally is, I don't hold out much hope that he'll take an active part in any fight. As for Trinias, he may be an excellent archer, but that's no use at all in a close-quarters surprise attack, which is almost certainly what we'll face."
"Leaving Leandra," Flynn prompted, after a pause.
Sasha hadn't even consider Leandra in terms of battle. "She'll be handy to have around after it's all over, but in the meantime she'll just be an added liability; we'll have to protect her, as much as the shipment."
"Hmm," said Flynn. "I've always imagined that a group with a diverse variety of skills would be better equipped to survive, than one that specialises on a narrow set of abilities; I just hope that we never have an opportunity to discover the accuracy of your assessment."
Conversation lapsed, and the small caravan moved on in silence.
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Two days later they had just begun the return leg, the wagon now loaded with crated and packaged goods. In spite of so many unmolested journeys, the atmosphere was still very tense, with nine pairs of eyes (the seven, the wagon driver and his assistant) constantly scanning the terrain round about them for signs of trouble. They had heard much talk recently, that a band of thugs had begun to operate in the area.
Nevertheless, it was still with a sense of surprise that Trinias quietly reported seeing movement on the crest of the hill to their left. Looking around at the indecisive faces, Flynn began to speak quickly. "Wolmark, have you got any of that latest invention of yours with you?" Wolmark nodded. "Good," Flynn continued. "It might be nothing; but Trinias, you and Leandra fall back a ways, where your bow can cover the wagon. Leandra, just try to keep out of harms way for now, but keep an eye out behind in case they try to trap us between two forces." He pulled the dagger from his belt and handed it to her. "Just in case."
Leandra looked at the dagger with an uncertain expression on her face, then gingerly took it. "I hope I don't have to use it."
"So do I," said Flynn, fervently, then continued. "Sasha, Wolmark and I will ride a little ahead; we'll take the brunt of any assault. Ulf, Kwon, stay with the wagon; it's your job to stop any brigands that get past us, or that attack from the flanks."
Nobody had any objection to Flynn taking charge; the four moved to their assigned positions, while the three rode on ahead.
"Wolmark, you're our surprise package," Flynn said as they drew ahead of the wagon. "With any luck, they won't have seen anything like that stuff of yours, and a lot of them might just break off and run." Wolmark grinned at the thought, and began fishing inside a large canvas bag he'd been carrying on his saddle; he pulled out a small metal cylinder with a screw-on cap. Just then they rounded a bend, and saw that their preparations hadn't been without cause. Ranged across the narrow valley were no less than a score of mounted men, staring purposefully in their direction. The wagon rounded the hill, and without a word the brigands charged.
Flynn's horse reared as he pulled it up short, but he easily kept his seat. With a practised horseman's eye, he watched the horde drawing closer. "Steady," he thought to himself, "got to time this just right." He glanced at the two people flanking him. Like the seasoned campaigner she was, Sasha was tense and alert, entirely focused on the enemy. Wolmark, if anything, was just a little excited.
Flynn awaited the correct moment with almost superhuman patience. The instant arrived; he turned to Wolmark. "Now!" he yelled.
With a quick motion, Wolmark removed the cap from the cylinder and withdrew a small glass vial; the two ends were divided by a glass partition, and each was filled with a different coloured liquid. Wolmark drew back his arm and threw the vial toward the fast-approaching horsemen.
The result was extremely spectacular. The vial struck the ground at the feet of the lead horse, shattered on impact, and the extremely volatile chemicals mixed. The ground erupted in an enormous fireball.
Seeing their leaders vanish in flames a handful of bandits lost their nerve, turned their horses about and fled. Others, close to the blast, lost control of their mounts and were thrown to the ground. The riders at the outer ends of the line held their charge, but the majority of the brigands milled about in confusion.
Flynn and Sasha, drawing their swords, charged into the confused mass, laying about on all sides. Wolmark threw another vial towards the rightmost end of the line, killing several more bandits, then whirled his horse and galloped back to the wagon. Trinias was working his bow so fast it was almost making music; few of his shots went wide of their mark, and even those that did still caused severe injuries to their targets.
A group of the brigands, now on foot, managed to rally and charge the wagon - only to run headlong into Ulf and Kwon Chen.
Ulf ordinarily loathed to fight, but this was different. These men wanted to hurt his friends! He fought with little science, but with his strength he didn't need to; one punch was always enough to put his opponent out of action. Kwon, on the other hand, fought with little else but science. He possessed extremely detailed knowledge of just where to strike to do the most damage, and the superb skill needed to strike exactly how and where necessary.
Not one of the bandits came within six feet of the wagon.
After the brief but furious combat, the seven regrouped to survey the damage. Most of the would-be thieves were lying about, either dead or unconscious; the rest had fled. Flynn had a minor cut in his left leg, and Sasha had a couple of nicks in her right arm; Ulf, surprisingly, had the worst injury of the group - he'd broken a finger on a bandit's iron helmet.
Leandra tended to their cuts, breaks and bruises, as the wagon driver looked around at the carnage in disbelief. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," he said, "I wouldn't have believed it."
Sasha was laughing with the release of tension, slapping people on the back and hugging everything in sight - including her horse. Her leather-and-chain-mail armour was very hard, and not the most comfortable thing to be squeezed against, but it was so rare for her to show such emotion that no-one complained. She approached Flynn, grinning, as Leandra was tying a bandage around his leg. "I take back everything I said; you were right - if we'd been a troop of swordsmen, we'd have been cut to ribbons! All of you," she continued, addressing the group at large, "I am glad you were here. I humbly apologise for doubting your abilities; we all owe our lives to what Flynn called our 'diverse variety of skills' - and to Flynn's ability to co-ordinate us into an effective defence against a superior foe!"
Everyone smiled at Flynn, expressing their gratitude in various ways; Leandra gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and turned to repack her supplies. Flynn blushed.
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The rest of that trip passed without incident, and two days later they pulled into the compound. The seven retired to the barracks, exhausted. Leandra made to return the dagger but Flynn waved it away, saying "Keep it. Tomorrow I'll start teaching you how to use it." Leandra smiled, and entered her barracks.
Boralis emerged from his house, walked over and spoke to the driver. "Everything went as smooth as usual, I trust?"
"Hardly!" was the driver's surprising reply. "We were attacked by a score of brigands, about half way here. Did you see those guards of yours? Only a couple of nicks and a broken finger, between them; but they got seventeen of the bandits! Seventeen! Mr Boralis, I'll tell you now - I won't mind driving for you, whatever the risk, as long as you send them to guard the shipment!"
As the driver and his assistant began to unload the wagon, Boralis stared after his departing mercenaries, eyes wide in amazement. He'd hired most of them on a whim, more as a status symbol than with any expectation that they'd have to perform their contracted duties. He realised just what a stroke of fortune it had been, putting such a group together. He thought about the wagon driver's words, then suddenly remembered that Sasha's contract was due to run out in just a couple of months.
"There must be some way to entice her to stay on..."
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Another entity appeared near the first, radiating a supremely confident challenge.
I have come, prey. Prepare for your doom!
You have hunted me, hounded me and mine for far too long; it ends here! the first entity radiated in reply.
Both beings began searching for an opening through which to attack...
(to be continued)
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[This message has been edited by Slayer (edited 11-05-2001).]
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but I'm running short on patience 
