The night is fading as the darkness is covered by soft sunlight. The sun is rising, light is covering every inch of the land as everything wakes. The birds sing, the insects crying, the woods are a peaceful place of this time. A cabin is in the middle of all this, rough, tattered, it lied as moss continued to grow on it. Inside was two men screaming at each other, arguing over something worthless. “You had no idea what was the situation, Kos`El!”
“You know damn well I did! We had the chance to kill the king!”
“Stumbling onto such a thing doesn’t mean you should take the chance.”
“Are you stupid? We could have given the message that we mean business!”
“We are not known to the public, Kos`El! I rather us not be targets!”
“Targets?! It seems like you are trying to keep us under wraps as you take word for the King as you lead us!”
“Why in the void would you think that?”
“Because I know it be true!” A soft voice yelled at the both of them as the door slammed open.
“What is it you two are yelling for?” She has a bag over her shoulder. Kos`El left the room with an angry look.
“I’ll leave you two together.” Bong comes in, closing the door as she put the bag on the table. It spills with English soldier helmets and ranking tags and medals.
“Seems you did a good job.” She looks at him with a straight face. “Where are the others?”
“We lost every man on the mission. I was the only one who came out alive.” She takes off her hooded cape as a bolt sticks out of her shoulder. “Could you…” she asks as she points towards it. He reaches towards it. “You sure?”
“Just do it.” he grips as she gives a painful grunt. “What are you waiting for?” He places the other hand on her back and pulled. She grunted in pain, he stopped. “Get on with it.” He never seen a woman with a bolt sticking out of her back before, this felt new to him even though he did the same to men with worse injuries. He grabbed a rag on the table and tugged on the bolt. She screamed in pain as the bolt was on the table. “I killed the generals there and there is the badges and helmets from them. We were too slow, so they reacted and most of us were killed. We killed them all, but one of them sent a messenger hawk out.”
“Did you kill it?”
She grabbed the bag and poured it out in the table, helmets rolled off the the table, badges piling on the each other, and a large black winged bird fell out with three bolts sticking out of it’s chest. “Guess what’s for breakfast.”
The sound of happiness enter my ears, father and son bonding. Laughter, their grins, they look at each other as they mingle and share experiences. The father grabs the box under his bed and pulls out the book, the legendary book. He set his child in his bed as he becomes too heavy for him to pick up, and opens the book to the story called, D’Arby’s Gamble on Stophen Tower.
“I remember reading this story to myself when I was your age,” the father said. “It was at a time I liked to gamble.”
“Did you want to want to be like him, Noama?”
“D’Arby?” he smiled. “No, he was a trickster, I wanted to be able to have the luck and win, without cheating.” He started to read:
“The Stophen tower, large in size, but beautiful inside. Men came and gambled there as they traversed the tower, higher and higher. Each level being of better quality and only for those who are worthy enough to enter with each one carrying an unknown password. To the top of this large tower was a man named D’Arby, he was a showboater, a winner, a god of this tower he claims he owns. He won each gamble, each game he played. Poker, he dominated. A game of chance? He knew each outcome. People called him the man of luck, but they did not know his truth: cheater. He gave each card game a slight of hand and each game of chance was always destroyed with his tricks. Although, he did have luck, each time he tells himself ‘I am surprised you didn’t notice.’
One day, a man in a large coat, a hat torn and a ragged shirt came. He laughed as everyone called him a wandering beggar. He claimed to be named Josef, but no one cared to know. He looked at D’Arby as their eyes locked, one screamed out a game: Poker a gamer D’Arby knew too well.
He pulled out the deck of cards as he dealed the cards. D’Arby asked what will he bet, he replied with a small sigh ‘My mother’s life.’ He pulled out a bag of coin, it rattled the table. He accepted it as he dealed the cards. D’Arby felt a small pain in his thumb, he couldn’t move it as the pain grew larger. Josef’s fingers crossed through D’Arby’s, breaking his thumb. ‘I don’t accept cheaters,’ he said as D’Arby was saving a card for himself. Everyone in the room saw this as large men walked towards him. His mind was racing with options, but the only thing on his mind was not leaving his domain. He screamed as he ran to a window and jumped. Josef did nothing about it, just sat there, blank, staring at the window he jumped out of.”
Khal`En closed the book quietly, a footsteps were sounding in the hallway. An Englishman began to yell for a search. He grabbed the box and placed the book gently in and kicked it under the floorboards. He grabbed his child and placed him outside the window. “You have to run back to your den, Jer!” He nodded as he ran to his window, lantern lights at every corner, they almost saw him. Tears began to slide down his face as he worries about his father, thoughts of them beating him, whipping him, even memories of watching it happen appeared. He came to his bed, tears fell down his face, his eyes misty, he shivered in his sheets as guards began to scream, profanity.