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Three-On-One: No Problem

6/28/2017

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The spillage of blood was indeed necessary. Only ten minutes after he decided to quicken his pace he rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a three-person patrol. They were more surprised than he was.
Gypsum growled, "Get out of my way, forget you saw me, and you will not be hurt. I mean no harm to you or your city."
The three, two males and a female, hesitated for seconds only before moving to surround him.  They did not hold their weapons as experienced soldiers might hold them.  And they were young. Gypsum doubted the female had lived sixteen years yet.
Their tusks were not the gleaming white of his own;, their tusks and horns showed an unhealthy gray tint he found repulsive.
"Drop your weapon and surrender and you will not be hurt...at least not now."  
To Gypsum's surprise, the woman spoke the order. She must be the one in charge.  He faced her; the two men took positions on his right and left.
When Gypsum made no move to comply, she added the threat, "If you do not surrender, we will show you no mercy."
"Excellent. I am not looking for any." Without further hesitation he attacked. He faked a raised sword at the male on his right. That one took a step back and Gypsum whirled to engage the one on his left. A clumsy parry by his opponent was slapped aside and the unprotected sword hand was chopped off at the wrist with a single downward stroke.
He turned just in time to parry—skillfully—a lunge by the other male. Gypsum closed quickly and grasped the other's sword wrist with his left hand. He struck with the pommel of his sword against the side of the head, just behind the base of the top horn. That one staggered sideways and fell.
The female attacked with a downward two-handed stroke attempting to cleave Gypsum's skull. He dodged to the right; the stroke missed him completely. Before she could raise her weapon for a second stroke he stepped forward and struck her on the top of the head with the flat of his sword. She collapsed without a sound.  He whirled again and administered the same treatment to the enemy now missing a right hand.
He took a hurried glance; all three of his opponents lay unconscious on the street. He sheathed his sword and continued his hurried path toward the spires.
By this time he realized the error of perspective.  From the hilltop or bottom the spires seemed to be in the middle of The Old City. But he discovered that they were in fact closer to the far perimeter than to the center.  He would have had a much easier time by skirting the city all the way to the opposite side of where he entered and then approaching the spires. He had not yet decided if he would pass that information on to Feldspar even if he got the chance.
He rounded another corner and stopped for only a few seconds. The base of the building that supported the spires was now in sight, and not far! He broke into a casual run, all his senses on the alert for hazards.


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Patience and Impatience

6/11/2017

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Meanwhile, the five Riotori on the hill waited.  They had no idea how long it would take Gypsum to accomplish his intended feat...or even if he might accomplish it at all.
Riotori are able to demonstrate amazing patience if there is a clear end to their wait. Pyrope and Calcite had themselves passed such a test about two decades before, and knew that it might take most of the day for Gypsum to reach his goal.
But they were also sensible. Both had other business to attend to. After a brief discussion it was agreed that Pyrope would go back to New City for two hours and take care of business while Calcite waited.  Then Pyrope would return and allow Calcite his time in New City.  That pattern would continue until the waiting was ended or until it became too dark to see anything in the Old City.
The three younger Riotori waited. Eventually Beryl persuaded Feldspar to accompany her back to her home; this was while her father waited atop the hill. They prepared food and drink enough for all and fetched it back to the hill. Topaz and Pyrope were grateful; Topaz, though, would not leave the vicinity of the hill. She fidgeted, stalked the perimeter of the hill and nearly wore circles into the ground at the top, and always her eyes searched the skyline of Old City in hopeful search for Gypsum.
And always she was disappointed. Often she would rub gently the back of her hand and recall the feel of Gypsum's smooth sharp tusk against the soft fur and hope that soon he would greet her with the same gesture of chivalry that he left her with.
Feldspar was not worried, but he was impatient. He wanted his brother to hurry up and succeed and return so that he could begin his own task. He grumbled and occasionally stalked back and forth across the top of the hill, his eyes focusing on the spires in Old City, expecting and wishing that he would see his twin climbing one of those spires any time.
But, like Topaz, he was disappointed.
 
In Old City, Gypsum was engaging in one of his brother's favorite pastimes. He was cursing in a mild monotone of muttered grumbles. He could barely believe his own stupid forgetfulness. He was getting hungry and he'd brought nothing to eat.
His sojourn into the city and the achievement of his goal was taking longer than he'd expected.  That morning he'd believed he could slip in, make his way with speedy stealth to his goal, scale the pinnacle and secure his flag, and return to his brother—and Topaz—only a little past the time for the noon meal.
He had been much too optimistic. He could imagine the derisive laughter his father and uncle would have piled upon him if they were present.
It was well past noon and he still had over a mile to go. The closer he got to the center of the city, the more natives there were. He had not again been seen, but the necessity of hiding, advancing quickly in short spurts, often perpendicular to his line of progress, was wearing on his nerves.
As he sat on a block of broken stone from the interior of the roof of a deserted building, he resolved to make better progress. He hoped he would not need to kill again, but he was becoming impatient.
These people did not inspire the slightest respect, individually or collectively. They only demanded caution.
He would make his way to the spires as quickly as possible. If these degenerated natives got in his way, and it became necessary, then blood would be spilled.

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    The story: This serial is about the "mascot" shown at the top of these pages. There are actually two of them, identical twins, Feldspar and Gypsum.
    The people call themselves Riotori, and their planet is Kylrock. The twins have been journeying for hundreds of miles, across many hazards, in search of mates. Please visit the archives to read their whole story.



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