by Ervin Agayan
“I have no choice!” Arsy shrugged his shoulders and added with a smile, “Besides, they say beginners are lucky.”
“Just like fools!” sneered Zens, but he instantly became serious again. “There must be another solution!”
“I could give him back whatever I took from him, but that’s not an option.”
“Why so? It’s not a bad idea.”
“I love the princess, and I can’t imagine my life without her.” Arsy’s voice grew more persistent. “But a happy family life requires a good deal of money. You don’t have the slightest idea how much I pay my people.”
“I do, quite well!” Zens smiled. “Judging by my salary, you pay a whole lot of money.”
“Now, wrap your mind around how much I have to pay to grease the police, so they leave me alone,” said Arsy. “Your salary is not even close. There are hundreds of expenses other than that.”
“You don’t need much money to kidnap the princess,” reminded Zens.
“But I will need quite a lot to survive somehow,” argued Arsy. “Can you imagine how they will start hunting me? I will need an army of people for my protection!”
“You can carry it out secretly so no one guesses what happened,” suggested Zens.
“Right, I’ve been thinking about it.” Arsy nodded. “I’m considering that as the last option. Mercenaries will find us sooner or later.”
“I doubt it very much,” Zens laughed. “They haven’t been able to find Erathos so far.”
“It’s because Erathos is constantly moving from place to place, whereas Parelia and I can’t live like nomads.”
Zens shook his head doubtfully and finally pronounced, “Well, Arsy, I think you are playing with fire.”
Arsy looked askance at him with suspicion in his blue eyes. “I sense a lack of confidence in you. Don’t tell me you have changed your mind about working with me.”
“Of course I haven’t!” assured Zens hurriedly. “I will help you, despite the fact that I have no experience in kidnapping princesses. Anyways, I don’t mind upgrading my qualifications!” joked the Green-Eyed Jolly Fellow. “Listen, I remember you said someone was trying to win her favor…”
“Everyone is trying to win her favor,” answered Arsy unhappily. “Who wouldn’t want to be the king? This time, however, I have a serious opponent. He is from an influential and well-to-do family. While it has been fairly simple to remove other admirers after exchanging a few words, this time I will need to try harder.”
“Is he successful in love affairs?”
“He invited Parelia to some sort of an event, and she agreed to go with him.” Arsy’s voice was trembling with anger.
“And instead of putting a crimp in his scheme, you’ve come here to learn cathastu?” Zens was amazed.
“I can’t even get close to her!” exclaimed Arsy with annoyance. “I am constantly under surveillance, but I have sent my spies there.”
“Under surveillance?” Zens looked back inadvertently. “Who is surveilling you?”
“Someone I work for,” answered Arsy vaguely, “though she calls it collaboration. But what collaboration is it if I had to ask for her permission to come here?”
“Her?” Zens was shocked. “Did I mishear you?”
“No, it’s a girl,” he admitted reluctantly. “But no one should know about it.”
“I should confess, this news has my head spinning!” Zens couldn’t believe that a man who was dreaded by each and every person he met was under the command of a female.
“It’s not as unbelievable as the fact that she’s Parelia’s closest friend.”
“You must be kidding me!” said Zens, pop-eyed.
“I’m not! Elmunia is one of the most influential people in Agastan.” Exuberant intonation could be sensed in Arsy’s voice.
“I’ve heard quite a lot about her.” Zens nodded thoughtfully, realizing that in all Agastan, only deaf people hadn’t heard about Elmunia. “So how did you start working together?”
“At the time, I was still friends with Erathos. We were enemies. When our revolution went wrong, she ordered me caught and kept me locked up. Then she granted me freedom and offered collaboration. I should say I accepted her offer with great pleasure, since it gave me the chance to hear the freshest news about my Parelia.” Arsy smiled, tongue-in-cheek, and added with pride, “Besides, it’s a great honor for me to be on her team!”
“Does she know you are in love with the princess?” inquired Zens.
“Of course she doesn’t!” exclaimed Arsy. “And she shouldn’t know; otherwise, she will interfere with my kidnapping plan, which is definitely not her plan. I keep my feelings for Parelia in strict secret from her.”
“What if she has mercy for you if she finds out about your feelings?”
“No, the guy who’s courting Parelia is Elmunia’s acquaintance.” Arsy shook his head confidently. “She also has a personal interest in making him the king. That is why I’m telling you he’s a serious opponent. Elmunia will most probably drop a good word for him in Parelia’s ear. Even if she doesn’t like him, Elmunia can persuade her to marry him,” said Arsy, sighing sadly.
“And what are you planning to do about it?” Bright sunlight made Zens narrow his lids.
“I’ll try to intervene!” declared Arsy resolutely. “I have already started my game, so we shall see its results.” After a moment’s silence, he added with a more severe expression, “But if it doesn’t work and their relationship grows into something more serious, I will have to kidnap her, like it or not!”
“But there is another option,” said Zens with a grin. He sensed his friend’s interrogative glance on himself.
“Go ahead!”
“You should confess your love to her,” suggested Zens.
Arsy looked at him like a crazy man. “It’s the same as digging my own grave. Don’t forget that I am the most wanted criminal in Agastan,” declared Arsy with a grain of pride in his voice, which was immediately replaced by bitter disheartenment as he added, “whom she ultimately hates.”
“Hates?”
“Exactly! Elmunia often jokingly says, ‘Make sure to stay out of Parelia’s sight, or she’ll reduce you to ashes.’ She can’t forget what I’ve done.”
“And what have you done?” asked Zens.
“Well, the revolution with Erathos in the first place, and after we seized the castle, I tied her up.” Arsy’s voice became sadder. “I regret my deeds now, but I can’t turn the clock back. Even after so much time, she still hasn’t given up on capturing me and is constantly asking the police why they haven’t found me yet.”
“Then you are right; confessing your love to her isn’t the best idea. Well, my friend,” sighed Zens, “one thing is certain—I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes. Loving a woman who hates you is torture.”
“Yeah, fate played an evil trick with me. If only I could forget her… but I can’t. I change girlfriends like socks, but I can’t forget her. Therefore, my ‘games’ are the only hope for now, while kidnapping is the last option,” declared Arsy resolutely.
“Experience shows there’s always an alternative option. It’s just that we don’t notice it.” Zens lifted his hands in dismay, adding, “Or we don’t want to notice.”
“As for me, suicide is the only alternative,” replied Arsy bitterly, immediately adding, “but that’s the cowards’ way! I will be fighting for my happiness to the last.”
Noticing the rising anger and frustration in his friend’s eyes, Zens decided to change the topic to distract him from spiritual torment. “Why doesn’t anyone welcome us? I will faint with hunger soon! How long can we wait!” uttered Zens with a rising voice.
“That’s really weird. I will also pass out if I don’t have a bit of barbecue right now.”
“My stomach began to rumble with your mentioning of barbecue,” joked Zens.
“Eager to taste some barbecue?” The silence was broken with a sonorous female voice. “It will be served i
mmediately; only, the barbecue will be made of your own meat.”
Slowly turning around, Arsy and Zens stared at the stranger who sneaked up to them discreetly.
It was Nihena, the daughter of Lord Mesdrin, the head of mercenaries. She was of average height, elegantly built, with a smooth oval face, blue eyes, and a small bumpy nose. Her dark purple hair was scraped back into a high ponytail and fixed with two sticks with thin and quite long turquoise blue ribbons hanging from the tips. A lock that fell across her face was dyed in a different shade.
More likely than not, the stranger liked finery. Bracelets on her wrist and leg, earrings, a necklace—all made of natural turquoise blue stones. She was obviously fascinated by that color.
Apart from turquoise blue, accents of purple weaved their way throughout her visage: the hair, lips, ribbons tied to the golden belt on her waist, as well as some other elements of her clothing. A drawing in the form of a mysterious symbol adorned the skin under her left eye. There was another drawing with a fancy design on her belly.
“Who are you?” asked Arsy, wide-eyed.
“I am your worst nightmare,” the girl retorted sharply.
Nihena’s name was known by everyone in the city. The impudent and wayward daughter of the head of mercenaries was the most discussed and gossiped-over figure in the city. The reason was her extravagant temper and incredible, almost inhuman, stubbornness. If Nihena set a goal for herself, absolutely nothing and no one, be it the devil in the flesh, could hold her back.
Her ardent temper and fervidity were reflected in her appearance too. Nihena loved self-expression through her flamboyant style. Bright colors in clothes and long ribbons in purple hair, an abundance of jewelry, and drawings on the most visible spots attracted attention from a distance.
Nevertheless, all this brightness didn’t seem tasteless or tacky; Nihena skillfully combined expressivity with functionality and exquisite taste. Hair sticks with extremely long ribbons were perhaps her only weak point and the only redundant element in her look. They were, however, an indispensable accessory to whatever image she appeared in, be it a training suit or an evening gown (which Nihena hardly ever wore). They said she had a trunk box of those sticks in various colors, shapes, and sizes.
“I am sorry?” Arsy’s eyebrows crawled upward.
“I am the one you will ever remember with horror until the end of your days, Arsy!” she threatened.
“I don’t know who you are, but you have a good sense of humor,” laughed Arsy. “Doesn’t she, Zens?”
“And not only sense of humor, she’s not bad all around,” Zens beamed half-lustfully, half-dreamily, scrutinizing Nihena from head to toes. “You can’t find such pretty girls at every step! This flower of a girl will no doubt grace an already beautiful city.”
“And what are those sticks in your hair?” Arsy kept smiling. “But, no, let me guess, you are going to poke our eyes out with them.”
“You are quick on the uptake!” retorted the girl through her teeth.
“Will you tell us who you are after all?”
“I am the one whose brother was killed by your friend!” she snapped in his face.
“Ah, so you are Nihena!” exclaimed Arsy.
“Yes!” The blue-eyed girl nodded in response.
“Nice to meet you. I am Arsy, and this is my friend Zens,” Arsy introduced himself courteously.
“What are these manners for, you hypocrite!” Nihena was literally burning him with her glance. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be happy for our encounter.”
Nihena shook her head, so the ribbons in her hair flew in various directions, which was something she was fond of doing.
“I see you are staunchly determined,” noted Arsy, “but before you attack me with these childish sticks, I’d like you to know that the person who killed your brother is no longer my friend, but rather my arch-foe.”
“Of course!” Nihena beamed caustically. “And of course, you haven’t come here to sniff out our plans. What brought you here then? An excursion? Maybe you’d fancy some sightseeing?”
“Only after a solid dinner!” Zens put in a word before Arsy could answer.
“I’ll repeat that you are deeply mistaken. Erathos and I are now enemies.”
“Come on, enough lying!” Nihena spoke with a rising voice. “I’ve been eavesdropping on your conversation. What were you saying about games? Get ready to meet my fists.”
“Listen, you must have misunderstood me,” Arsy hastened, trying to calm her down. “Where is your father? Will you call him, please?”
“I don’t need him to throw you out of here,” she answered with an acrid sneer, crooking her finger at him.
Her menacing look seemed quite ridiculous to the young men. Zens immediately compared her to a wild cat: elegant, flexible, and dangerous. Realizing that she chose Arsy as her opponent, he stepped aside, obviously anticipating an interesting scene. All this banter put Arsy in a good mood. He hardly saw an opponent in the seemingly fragile girl.
Nihena looked quite menacing; standing on her toes, she stretched her left hand toward Arsy and snorted like a wild cat.
“Shall we start?” she asked.
“Listen, baby, I think you should call your daddy now and then bring us something to eat, while we will discuss the affairs of grown-ups.” Arsy started to speak with a tone of a teacher, explaining to a school bully how one shouldn’t behave. “And when we are done, I will happily let you show me the city and maybe even…”
Arsy didn’t manage to finish his phrase. Nihena rushed toward him at such a pace that he could hardly see her move. As for Zens, he felt like she appeared at an arm’s length from his friend in no time. Or rather at a leg’s length, since she used this part of her body to strike Arsy with such power that he flew a couple of steps away and landed in the road dust.
“Hey…are you…crazy?” It took Arsy a few seconds to catch his breath. He tried to stand up, looking at his new acquaintance with completely different eyes.
“I’m warning you one last time: defend yourself!” ordered Nihena.
“Listen, I don’t fight with women,” Arsy tried to calm her down, but it seemed like she became even angrier.
“You have to! You will soon curse the air you once shared with my brother’s killer.”
Nihena reminded him of a wild lioness.
Arsy reluctantly took a defensive position. He was facing an ambiguous rival; on one hand, it was a woman, whom he really never raised a hand to. Above all, she wasn’t just a woman, but Lord Mesdrin’s daughter! What would happen to him if he laid even a finger on her? The doors to the city would be closed for him once and for all. On the other hand, this young lady was obviously asking for trouble and explanatory speeches weren’t settling the matter. If talking some sense had little effect, perhaps he’d have to apply force. Arsy was not going to beat her, but a small punch or a humiliating slap in the face could blow off her steam.
Zens was observing this confrontation with undisguised interest. He had no doubt about Arsy’s victory, but he was rather interested to see what the impudent young stranger was capable of. He was absolutely astonished when Nihena rushed headlong into the fight, as a wild beast, practically mute, blazing and furious. Her every strike and thrust were so well-aimed that Zens was increasingly filled with respect for this wildcat.
The battle lasted no more than three minutes. During this period, Arsy was only able to block a few strikes. Personally, he didn’t launch even one. Nihena was fighting silently, her elusive movements speaking for her. The ribbons in her hair flitting occasionally; her slim hands and legs launching blows with such dexterity and precision that, after a minute, Arsy no longer realized what was going on.
Zens didn’t notice himself standing open-mouthed. Nihena’s technique had stunned him to the extent that it took him a while to realize his friend was lying on the ground, knocked down by a single concise strike to his throat with the edge of the hand, while the wild beast straddled him, smash
ing her rival. Arsy literally swallowed dust, accepting more and more blows to his face and body.
Finally, Zens emerged from numbness and rushed to help his friend. Pulling Nihena’s elbows behind her back, he literally dragged her away from her prey. The girl was biting and struggling to break loose, but Zens’ strong arms held her with a death grip; he also had decent techniques in his arsenal.
At last, the wildcat calmed down. The rival’s beaten face must have amused her, for a satisfied sneer flashed across her face.
Arsy stood up with difficulty. Covered in dust, with a split lip and bursting bruise under his eye, he looked like a ragged cat that lost a squabble in the backstreet.
“I’ve come to you in peace,” exclaimed Arsy almost mournfully as he started shaking the dust from his clothes vigorously. “I’m not your enemy! What was that? Are you crazy?”
“Take that as your first lesson,” sneered Nihena, still making efforts to set herself free from Zens’ powerful grip. “It’s what brought you here, isn’t it? You want to master cathastu, don’t you?”
“Yes, that’s true, but…” Arsy carefully touched his swollen cheekbone “…I thought we’d start with theory. And to begin with”—Arsy looked at her almost huffily—“maiming guests is impolite, if nothing else.”
“Maiming?” Nihena burst out laughing. “This was actually the foreplay.”
All of a sudden, she stopped struggling and gave a nod behind her back, still addressing Arsy.
“If your friend doesn’t let me free right now, I’m afraid he’ll look even worse. And in the end, you will both see what I need those sticks in my hair for. I’ve already told you, you will never forget this day,” she exclaimed.
“Zens, my friend, you should not set this crazy woman free! She’s got problems with her head!” Arsy was at a loss and didn’t know what to do.
“I got that already. I’m barely holding her, bro. We’ve been badly misled! This is definitely no warm welcome!” exclaimed Zens.
“Let me go, idiot!” squeaked Nihena, who was struggling in his powerful arms like a fish in a net. “I promise I won’t test my hair sticks on you if you set me free right now; your friend will suffer alone.”
