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The Servant Who Became a Warrior

The Servant Who Became a Warrior



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Published by Te Ariki
Chapter One. Working on chapter Two, will upload as soon as I finish it. Any suggestions will be given a serious look at, maybe even used?
Chapter One. Working on chapter Two, will upload as soon as I finish it. Any suggestions will be given a serious look at, maybe even used?

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Published by: Te Ariki on Jul 26, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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“The Servant Who Became A Warrior”
ByR. Albert Marsh
Chapter One.A long time ago, in a land a far distance from where you are now, in a timelong forgotten, lived a servant by the name of Kisu.Kisu was the servant of the Lord High Chamberlain, and had been so since birth. Growing up in the Emerald City, Kisu came in contact with a widevariety of people, Lords, Ladies, Courtiers, commoners, trades-people, andfellow servants. But what set Kisu aside from the many was a dream.Kisu had carried in his heart a dream from early childhood, and because of the accident of his birth, it would remain only that, a dream.For as everyone knew, a servant could not be a warrior, just as a donkeycould not be a horse. It was simply impossible. Tradition stated that youshall rise above your station, and tradition could not be broken. You are whatyou are. If you were born into a lowly station, you died there.A warrior’s weapons were a sacred trust. They were his stock in trade, andwoe unto the person who picked up a weapon without permission of itsowner.For centuries past, if a servant so much as touched a warrior’s weapon, he or she was instantly killed, and the weapon broken. For dishonor it was for aweapon to be touched by someone so lowly and small.Kisu’s work was varied about the stronghold, as it was menial. Born intoservitude, he knew no other life. It seemed that his days were full, from thetime he was awake two hours before dawn, summer and winter, to the timehe went wearily to his bed, sometimes in the early hours of the morning, dayin, day out, no time off except for the whims of the High Born above him.Although his body breathed and worked, his mind and soul soared out intothe vast realms of his imagination. He saw himself a hero, lauded for his prowess, sailing the vast uncharted expanses of the bottomless deep, and paying court to fair maidens who’d swoon at his merest passing.
Oh, yes, Kisu dreamed of freedom, a freedom that lay out of reach, so far away, that he knew only madness or death could make it his.But most of all, Kisu dreamed of being a soldier. When his duties permittedit, he would take a roundabout route, just so he could walk as slowly as hedared past the barracks, where the guards and officers spent their time.He would surreptitiously watch the men of war as they trained, the swordsthat would flash in their hands, the bows that would twang and thump, thedeadly dance of the swords and spears. As Kisu watched them out of thecorner of his eye, in his mind he was training right beside them, tradinglunge for lunge, parry for parry, block for block.At night, in his innermost private musings, Kisu would lie on his bed, under his blankets, and practice what he had seen that day on the training groundin his imagination. He would grin to himself, as he replayed conversationshe’d heard, with himself speaking the words, and not the soldiers.And yet, every night Kisu would practice the forbidden arts of war, doingthe stretches to limber up, practicing the punches, kicks, and unarmed drillthat he could see as clearly as if he was on the drill quad. A length of stick aslong as his arm would become his sword, a shorter one measuring fromelbow to fingertip, a shorts-word dagger. Night after night he would practice, yet he never seemed to flag in his duties.For, he reasoned, a soldier would never tire or fail in his duties to his Lord or Lady, so neither would he. The only times Kisu could not practice was whena visiting Personage would arrive in the Emerald city, and sleeping spacewas at a premium among the serving class.Then he would have to share his living quarters, sometimes even kicked outand made to sleep in the hallway because some pompous ass needed his‘privacy’.Soldiers are intelligent men, for if they were not, then they were not soldiers,and they would be dead. Kisu knew this, and he accepted it stoically. Heknew some of the guards might guess of the reasons why he tried his best tospend so much time around the fighting men, and would have been mortifiedshould they bring it out into the open.

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