The Switching Skill, Chapter One

      The mind of Dar-the, the warrior, had nearly succumbed to what seemed to be the inevitable, having retreated slowly into ever more primitive stages of inactivity, desperately attempting to defend whatever elements of its being that it could from the assault that was taking place upon it. Death seemed inevitable, and was certainly close at hand, but was forestalled by a combination of small factors, a testament to the whimsical nature of man's destiny and to the significance, at times, of his tenacious character.
     Across Dar-teh's face crept a cold, unfeeling element, unaware of and unconcerned with the skin of the man across which it crawled, causing a stinging, prickly sensation which sparked something in the man's subconscious, convincing his mind that it must allocate a portion of its remaining resources to the activity of defending against this perceived threat.
      Therefore, the eyes of Dar-teh slowly opened, and saw before them the cold, powdery substance, traveling across his cheek, causing the sensation of a creeping arachnid.
     His other senses were also mustered, slowly, one by one. First he heard the whine of a relentless and powerful wind across the adjacent terrain; second, he felt a solid, bitter cold throughout his form, except for certain extremities, which were too numb to register any sensation; finally, he experienced the pain from his side wound, although he did not know as of yet the exact nature of its source.
      Now that his conscious mind was again in control of his destiny, the man's will was given a chance to alter the course of things, and rather than return to the narcotic-like slumber of a freezing animal, the big warrior brushed the irritating snow away from his face and pushed himself slowly, with great pain, up from the icy rock. He paused for a moment, crouching, his head spinning with dizziness and pain.
      He was naked, a fact which astounded him, but over which he had little time to ponder. Instinctively he knew that he must move, for to remain exposed to the bitter storm would mean death. But where to? Dar-teh peered through the blowing ice. He saw only the blur of the white particles, and beyond them, only a black emptiness. He turned his head towards the opposite direction. The same…except that the emptiness was of a different, deeper shade, and seemed even more distant. He rose and ventured a few stumbling steps in this latter direction until somehow he realized that the icy slab on which he stood fell away within a few yards into a dark, yawning chasm. He turned back and groped his way on bare, unfeeling feet until he identified a stone wall rising before him towards the heavens.
      He stood upon a ledge of some sort, he thought dully, no doubt high upon some bare, icy precipice. A wave of confusion passed over him. Where? And how had he come to this place? But the urge to move returned, and the man staggered away down the narrow shelf, instinctively heading down the mild incline of the thing, hugging the wall and looking, feeling for any crack or large object which might offer some refuge.
      He proceeded for many minutes, pausing occasionally due to the agony of the cold upon his flesh, however he continued to stumble along, finding nothing of significance on the remarkably naked, barren mountainside, save some evidence of scant shrubs and sticklike trees. He felt an increasing sense of desperation, accompanied by an urge to fall to the ground on the spot and huddle as best he could against the cold rock.
      He resisted this temptation, however, and proceeded on, despite the agonizing sting he felt most intensely in his head, but also throughout the rest of his body. Finally his stumbling feet slid from beneath him due to a polished piece of ice upon which he trod, and he fell heavily to the ground. Pain shot through his arm and his side, adding to the agony of the cold.
     As Dar-teh winced and writhed uncontrollably, his face by chance turned to the wall of the cliff. There, not three feet before his eyes, he saw a slit in the base of the wall, only several feet high and a dozen feet long, but forming a low cave which ran back into darkness.
      Immediately he rolled over and over, into the space, until he bumped against stone. He was only a dozen feet into the mountainside; he wished it was more. Nevertheless, the shelter from the howling wind was good, and the naked man felt a surge of relief as the stinging left the surface of his skin, although it still pounded his head and bones.
     Now that he had a temporary refuge--for he would not dare venture from this spot until daylight provided some positive guidance--Dar-teh for the first time had a chance to wonder at his situation. A strange confusion overwhelmed him again, for when he attempted to recall anything prior to awakening in the storm, he encountered an inexplicable blankness. He was Dar- the, a fighting man. These two things he knew, but nothing else. He considered that he might be dead, and now transported into the realm of spirits, a concept of which he was aware, although he remembered no specific teachings regarding this. Dully, he fought to explain the mystery.
      Instinctively he knew certain things: that he was a man, and a man had memories which recollected a lifetime, ordinarily. There was knowledge also, and this he still possessed. For instance, he felt for a sword at his side, where there was none, but he knew what a sword was and that it should be there. He knew of its use, and he thought also of horses, villages, fields, and forests. He had much knowledge, but no memories.
      Now, sheltered from the biting gale, he would survive, for the temperature, especially as he huddled in his tight crevice, was not so severe as to cause a quick death, and in fact, a slight warmth seemed to radiate from the mountains interior.. Dar-teh waited, therefore, in a shivering half-slumber, for daylight to come and, hopefully, for the storm to end. His tired mind had done what it could to save the body; now it too, needed a respite.
     He awoke some time later. How long he had slept he did not know, for darkness still prevailed and the wind still blew, although much more gently now. He felt cold, but stronger; again the bowels of the mountain against which he huddled seemed to emanate a bit of warmth. He still, however, winced at the pain from his side wound and from his frostbitten extremities. Dar-teh felt that it must have been the great hunger and thirst that he felt which had awoken him. As he was struggling to recall his last meal, which he could not, a faint, mysterious noise reached his ears, and he realized that he had been hearing it for some time, and that it was this noise, not hunger or thirst, which had roused him from his sleep.
     He listened, and in a moment he heard it again. A voice, shouting, and another, fainter, calling in return!
     The wind howled, and he could hear the sleet tap lightly the stone at the mouth of his cave. He knew however, that in his weak and abandoned condition, it would be foolish to remain in his shelter if there was the possibility of aid passing nearby. And the voices were those of men. Enemies they might be, but even to throw himself into the hands of enemies seemed a better choice than to face a slow death, freezing and naked, which might well be his destiny were the storm to continue and the temperatures to remain harsh.
     He tried to move quickly, but the powerful limbs that at other times could lift many times his own weight, were now stiff and sore. He slipped and scrambled, however, to the mouth of his cave, exited, and rose, leaning on the rock.
      For a moment there was nothing but the wind, and the grey hint of dawn. Then the shouts again, one calling, the other returning! Dar-teh turned in their direction and walked stiffly down the ledge as he had before. He could see that the ledge widened, and soon there was a flat portion. He heard faint shouting, now on his right, over the drop. He approached the edge and dropped to a crouch. Here there was soil clothing the rock, and scant shrubs grew. Dar- teh parted a branch and looked.
      There was a sheer drop, three, maybe four times the height of a tall man, then a flat shelf, similar to his own, but occupied by small trees, and dotted with brush. The lower shelf ran in the direction of his own, but he could see only dimly either way, although it was obvious to him now that daylight had returned. Its width was wider than that on which he presently crouched, but after several dozen paces it too appeared to drop away; beyond was a grey mist and the far off, dark shapes of what might be a forest.
     Then from out of this mist came a hoarse shout, and the head and shoulders of a man appeared! Another cry from below the first called back.
     Dar-teh watched with keen interest as the man pulled himself up onto the ledge below him, his gasping breath and noisy ascent reaching through the wind. It was a broad face, flat, and with only dark slits for eyes, with a body that matched; dark, thick, and broad. Dar-teh, a warrior, noticed briefly the bow, the blade, and then a different sound turned his head.
      It was a brisk rustle, a scrape, and faint breath. Dar-teh looked closer, almost directly below, and saw a figure dart through the brush and turn--directly below him, but knowing nothing of his presence--and lean against the stone wall. It was a slight form, although wrapped in heavy garments. The head was capped with a fur, but long, black hair ran from under it and down the back. A girl, thought Dar-teh, and watched in surprise as she fumbled with a bundle, swiftly producing a short bow.
     Dar-teh looked out again, and saw that the man was now onto the ledge, and a companion had joined him; two dark, swarthy, fighting men, and a third companion still called from below. The first of them looked about swiftly, spotted the struggling form of the girl, and with a growl, leapt across the frozen ground. His companion noticed and followed, voicing a satisfied snarl as well. They had over a dozen paces to cover, and had made half of them when a bowstring sung, and the first man spun with a howl that matched that of the wind of the night before. He fell to one knee, a shaft protruding from an arm, but his companion rushed past, and reached the girl before her cold hands could string another shaft.
     She tried to draw a blade, but the rogue, twice her size, struck first, smashing her light frame against the stone. She struggled again, twisting to one side, but the man had his own blade out now, and sliced through the air, doubling the girl over as she lunged by.
     Dar-teh had forgotten for the time his own pains, staring intently at the activity below him. Had there been no conflict occurring, he would have considered calling to such men, despite the fact that they might be hostile, in order to secure some small degree of relief from the elements and possibly some food and drink. Now, however, different sentiments were roused in him, for there were two parties below to consider.
     The girl, although foreign to him as well, was also a possible source of succor, for she too seemed well provisioned. Further, he would rather reveal himself to a lone traveler, which the girl seemed to be, rather than to a number that could easily overpower him if they wished. Also, however, and more importantly to Dar-teh, he felt an excitement, an inexplicable urge to throw himself into the fray, for his fighting instincts were strong in him despite his poor condition. He could not, however, join the strong ones attacking the weak, for that was not his way, and he would receive no satisfaction from such a fight; but he could go against the warriors, for that would be a true battle, and there was much to be gained should he win.
      The girl had leapt and fallen some distance from her assailant. The latter now stepped toward her, a low chuckle in his throat, and reached down. As she struggled to rise, the man spun her around roughly and tore the cloak from her shoulders. The girl swung a fist in defiance, but the man parried it easily. He reached for the cloth covering her breast and tore it away. The girl struck him in the face; he grabbed her wrist with one hand and clubbed her face with his other; a blow thrice as hard as the one he had received. Then he threw her against the cliffside once more, and stood back several paces, cursing. Behind him, his wounded companion now approached, uttering similar epithets, but smiling cruelly upon noticing the girl's bare breast.
      Dar-teh gathered himself above them, forgetting his sore and stiff joints, and leapt.