<html xmlns:v="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:vml" xmlns:o="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" xmlns:w="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:word" xmlns:m="http://schemas.microsoft.com/office/2004/12/omml" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"><head><META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=us-ascii"><meta name=Generator content="Microsoft Word 12 (filtered medium)"><style></style></head><body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink=purple><div class=WordSection1>Here is the last part of the story<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p>Chris<o:p></o:p>The Lurking Fox<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p>*****************<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p> Breakfast was always a big event in the Brightleaf family. The day started early; around dawn. with everyone assembled in the family dining room. With so many people in such a small room things got tight but it made the meals more intimate and warm. Eggs, bacon, lamb, and a thick porridge of lamb and grain called ganal were served with bread (both fresh and toasted) and covered with jam and butter. All of this was washed down with tea, cider and a new drink called coffee. Many were still feeling the after effects of the party and were eating light.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha and Caroline were seated together enjoying the meal and the conversation with family when a young girl walked up to the table and stood next to him.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Misha," the servant said politely. "There is a man here to speak with you. He says it's about a debt of honor."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha put down his fork and sighed loudly. "I must be getting old. I'm getting seriously tired of honor bound fools."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "To be fair you really did insult his ancestor pretty harshly in that story," Verner commented.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "It's all the truth!" the fox countered.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "That only makes it worse," someone answered.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha turned to the servant. "I'll be there in a minute. Thank you."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p>********************<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p> The man that was waiting in the small parlor was well dressed. He had changed his clothes but it was clearly the same person as last night. When Misha entered the room he turned and stared at Misha. "Well?" He asked angrily.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Tomorrow at noon," Misha responded simply. "At the dueling field."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "And with what do you wish to duel?" The man asked.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Staves," Misha answered. "First one unconscious or unable to continue looses."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "No axes?" The man asked sarcastically.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "This is supposed to be an honorable duel," Misha countered. "No bloodshed. Unless what you is really after is the axe and not honor."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "The axe means nothing to me," the man replied.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha didn't speak for a moment but just stared at the man with a surprising intensity. He seemed to be trying to look into the man's soul. Then his whole stance relaxed and he wagged his tail. "Good. You are an honorable man."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "My honor is what you defamed," the man snapped.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "No, what I defamed was a man who has been dead for over a century," Misha responded.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Honor must be satisfied."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p>*********************<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p> The location was an open field located outside the city walls. In the centuries before the collapse of the empire it had been a small plaza in a crowded neighborhood. Once surrounded by tall buildings it was now just a large stone platform surrounded by empty fields. The only inhabitants were sheep and the occasional traveler too miserly to rent a room in the modern city. The platform was of good stone blocks still closely set and firm in spite of centuries of weathering and the destruction of the city around it. It made an excellent platform for a duel.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The rules of the duel were clear. The two duelists were each allowed one staff or stave made of pine or cedar to be exactly five feet long. Each was to be wearing a cloth shirt and pants of wool and nothing else. Padding in the clothes was optional; to be agreed upon by both sides. They were to be exactly six feet apart at the start. The duel would start with the obligatory verbal exchange allowing one last chance to avoid the actual fight. What happened after that was simple - they whacked at each other with the sticks till one was unconscious or both had had enough.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> William Burelli was standing on the north edge of the platform some twenty feet from Misha. Both were wearing a white wool shirt and pants and carrying a wooden stave that was four feet long.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Standing between them was a tall, well dressed, black haired man who had a sour look on his fair. He looked as if he would rather be anywhere else but here. Feron Arswile had a lot tasks to perform as a clerk for the city of Marigund and being a judge legal duels was one of them. "Are the two contestants ready?"<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Yes!" The man answered.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha nodded his head. "I am ready."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "I will ask both of you if there is a chance to end this peacefully," Feron asked as he looked from one to the other.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha pointed to his opponent. "Ask him. I never wanted to be here to begin with."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> He scowled at the fox. "Again you are defaming an innocent man."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Who challenged who?" Misha responded simply.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "YOU DEFAMED MY ANCESTOR!"<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Who has been dead for a century," Misha countered. "Can't we just let the dead rest in peace?"<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "You should have thought of that BEFORE you wrote that story."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "And you could have replied to one of the four letters I sent asking about him," Misha answered.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> William moved towards Misha his staff already swinging. "Enough talk."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha brought up his staff and deflected the blow. Then he spun the bottom of his staff aiming it at Burelli's legs. His opponent easily dodged the attack with some deft footwork.<o:p></o:p> For several minutes there was no talking, and the only sounds the two made were the grunts and groans as they battled back and forth. Their sticks clacked and clattered as they hit each other.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "I want to know the truth about what happened back then," William snarled as he attacked again.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha blocked the blow and swung his own staff at the man's legs. "What makes you think we know any more then you do?"<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "You must know what happened," William said as he lunged at the fox.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "No we don't," Misha answered frankly as he blocked his opponents attack.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "How can you not know?" William asked. "There were over two hundred people with them. Someone else must have left a record."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Evidently none of them could read or write," Misha jabbed straight at his opponent with the end of his staff. The fire hardened end slammed into Williams stomach. The man tumbled to the ground with a loud grunt and his stick clattered to the pavement, just out of reach.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Rather than move in and finish the fight Misha took a step back. "How long are we going to keep doing this?" He snarled in an annoyed tone.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The man reached out for his weapon. "Until honor is satisfied."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "And when will that be?"<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> The man actually paused for a moment and gazed at Misha with a surprised look.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha reached out with his own staff and sent William's skittering across the pavement, way beyond reach. Then he lowered his staff. "How about this. What if I amend the story."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "How can you amend what's already in print?" The man asked.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "I'm in the midst of a second book, 'More Tales of the Northland,' it's sure to sell even more copies then the first one."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "And I'm supposed to believe that you would do this?" The man asked suspiciously as he slowly stood up.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "If I wasn't an honorable man I wouldn't have shown up for this duel," Misha responded. "Or I would have cheated. Or perhaps you'd like to keep bashing away at each other."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Caroline pointed a finger at William. "What DO you want? What do you want from all this?"<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> William paused and stood still for a moment. "I want the truth known to all."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Sometimes the truth hurts," Misha said. "Our ancestors were intertwined and so it seems are we. I promise you we'll find the truth, where ever it leads us. There are liable to be unpleasant discoveries for us both. Are you ready for that?"<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "I will go wherever the truth leads me," came the man's determined answer.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Fair enough."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p>********************<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p> Muriel, Rueben , Caroline and Misha were seated in a small drawing room in a quiet section of the house. Misha had one leg up on a stool and it was wrapped with warm towels.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Are you all right dear?" Misha's mother asked and kissed him on the head.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "I'm a little battered and bruised but all right," He responded. " Burelli really is skilled."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Is it wise to go delving into our ancestors past?" Rueben asked.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "No," Misha responded honestly. He sighed and rubbed his left arm, where William had landed a hard blow earlier that day. "Family, the Guild, Madog and the automatons," he said. "Those I was expecting trouble from. But I never expected problems from a story I published over a year ago."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "The past has a habit of reaching out to the present day," Muriel said.<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "What do you know of the original Misha and the axe?" Caroline asked. "I mean the truth and not the bed time stories."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Little," Reuben said honestly. "Grandpa hid the facts about what happened and we never really investigated too deeply. There must have been a reason he wanted to keep it hidden."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "Every family has their secrets," Muriel said. "And Grandpa Misha is ours."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "We literally know nothing about that part of his life," the elder, male Brightleaf said. "He left no records of any sort, not even some vague clue carved into stone like in some mystery tale."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "What we do know is that he rescued a large number of people from the Giantdowns," Muriel added. "And was knighted for his courage and ingenious thinking."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "I don't even know where to begin looking for information," the fox said. "I've read through everything here in Marigund about it back when I was a child."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> "The answer is in the Giantdowns and at Metamor," Muriel said. "Here in Marigund we only have one part of the story. Someone up north MUST know the other side of the tale."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Misha had a distant look in his eyes for a moment. "Indeed." Then he nodded. and looked straight at his parents. "Tomorrow the guild is going to be reactivating that automaton. I'd like it if you'd both were there."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p> Reuben smiled. "We'd be honored."<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p>The end<o:p></o:p><o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p></div></body></html>