LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE TRIP TO THE MONASTERY - SECTION 3
That evening, when the monk Fayet’s services were no longer required, as an alternative to withdrawing to his room for prayers then sleep, Fayet sought instead, to pay a visit to his friend and confidant, Muro.
It was not long before their casual conversation about this or that point of interest veered to usual contending topics.
“Boy, what a strange
bunch! I mean, they are so formal with each other.” Fayet suddenly blurted out,
looking away from the window. He grimaced, seeing how he’d startled the other
in mid-stroke of the enigmatic verse.
Muro’s head raised, he
pinned his questioning eyes to Fayet’s, with a stern expression of slight
annoyance, since he suspected Fayet of weaving yet another tapestry of lies to
gain importance. “He’s so obvious with his not-so-subtle hints; I suppose
the report can wait...” He put the quill
pen down.
“Well, let’s hear it, I
haven’t got all night!” He, with irritation, snorted. Outwardly, however he could not resist toying
with Fayet; and so, abstaining from making any verbal inquiry, he again picked
up the brush and purportedly (ostensibly) turned his attention back to the
parchment before him.
“First they came quite unexpectedly and out of season at that, then they expect us to go all out for them!” Fayet pursing his lips ejected a peeved grunt.
“Are you still griping
about that?” Muro smiled wryly. “I would think that, of all people, you
should be the last one to air a complaint, or can it be that the old gentleman
is tight-fisted with you, denying you the lion’s share of the gratuities you
are so used to wringing out?”
“Why are you so bent on
antagonizing me? Really, from the way
you speak one would think I have been hoarding (stashing away) a mountain of
riches beneath my bed. You know very
well that I receive no extra perk, minimal that always is, until the last day
of their visit when all accounts are settled.”
“Fine, fine…” Muro
forgoing Fayet’s sarcasm, cast the report aside, fetched the board that had
stones on it strategically placed, and on his beckoning, they resumed playing
the ongoing game. When at last, after careful consideration, Muro moved the key
stone to another place on board, “Hah, ha, ha….
You’ll be sorry you did that!” Fayet lifted one of his pieces, and
skipping two spaces ahead, placed it squarely down with a thud, in apt
retaliation. “Now take that!” The
advantage he’d gained had instantaneously cheered Fayet anew.
Muro frowned, “You caught
me off guard. My mind was
elsewhere.” Then, shaking a finger at Fayet,
he warned, “But don’t celebrate your gains too soon.
“Confound it, what was it
I needed to tell you? Oh yes, now I remember.” Fyeta ignored the latter’s idle
threat. “Now listen, I really have a good piece of info to tell you, but it
must not leave this room.”
Fayet cast an anxious
glance, “Do you mind if I close the door?
What I have to say next must be kept in the strictest confidence.” Then, without waiting for the other’s assent,
he sprung to his feet and went to the door, closing and even locking it.
Muro’s curiosity right now
aroused, he looked inquiringly at Fayet when the latter returned, and once more
were seated across. Delighting in prolonging the suspense, Fayet first examined
the pieces on the board game most carefully.
“For Heaven’s sake, I
haven’t touched a thing. Now what was it
you wanted to tell me about?” Muro impatiently demanded.
But Fayet gallingly kept
his cool and pinned his eyes to the board.
Then, with deliberate slowness, he moved his piece to a strategic
point. Now, with a contented air, he
swelled his chest, leaned back and smiled.
Pointing his finger to it, “First try to get out of this one,” he
gloated. “I told you I would get you, sooner or later!”
Muro became distraught. Indeed, he was placed in a most precarious position. One wrong move and he would have to again forfeit the game. He already owed Fayet a considerable sum, since they had always played for stakes. He was hoping to recover some of his losses today. As Muro wracked his brains over his next move, Fayet drew near and whispered in his ear. “The list for prayers, the elderly gentleman had been asked to complete this morning”
“What about it?” Muro
stuck out his chin in antagonistic stance; then upon reflection, “Oh, have you
seen the list?” he quickly asked.
“Of course not, what a
thing to say, why that would be an unpardonable violation? It would land me in
serious trouble, to say the least!” Fayet grumbled feigning shock, but all the
same dawning smirk and winked.
Muro, tad flustered with
all Fayet’s pretexts, inadvertently placed his piece in the wrong quarter; this
could have ended the game immediately in Fayet’s favor.
“Hey, you can’t do
that! Take it back; I’ll pretend I
didn’t see it. But remember, you owe me
a turn.”
“Never mind the game,” Muro
pushed the board aside, “I’ve lost all interest in it. Fayet, stop beating
around the bush; have you, or have you not seen it?”
With a broad smirk on his
face, Fayet made a pretense of dallying, and then uttered a few, unconvincing,
words of denial.
“Do tell if you’ve seen it, brother.” Muro,
adapting a softer stance, entreated. “I promise not to divulge your infraction
to a living soul. Still, you’re probably
pulling my leg. His eminence would have
your hide...You wouldn’t be so brazen?”
Now he cast a doubtful look at Fayet, goading him to prove otherwise.
Fayet’s persisting, knowing smirk nevertheless
reaffirmed Muro’s suspicion.
“But how did you ever manage it?”
“Have it your way, brother.” Muro,
afterthought, offered a quick solution.
“Let us say that someone else, an undisclosed third party saw the
list. What so incredible (strange) about
a list anyhow, why make such a fuss over it?”
Fayet ‘s sheepish smile
deleted, he ejected in a serious tone: “Now, you didn’t hear this from me,
understand?” He paused long enough to receive Muro’s affirmative nod. “Ah, and
that’s just it. It is not just an
ordinary list, but one that is most intriguing and highly dubious!” He was
about to say more, opened his mouth, but did not articulate any. He appeared to be hesitating.
What now? Muro almost
demanded, but checking his quickly rising temper, asked latter in conciliatory
tone, to please continue. “Brother, why
keep me in suspense, reeling me in like a fish, then stalling?”
“I assure you that is the
farthest thing from my aim, however,” Fayet coughed, as if to clear his throat,
“if I were to tell it to you in its entirety, it being a rather lengthy
account, my throat would get parched, then what’s there to lessen my
discomfort? Frankly, I’m tired. Perhaps I should leave it for now, and call
on you on another day, to tell it then.”
With that, Fayet gave a pretense of rising to his feet.
‘So that’s your game.
This better be good!’
“Oh no, that won’t do,” Muro
hurriedly grasped Fayet’s arm to keep him down; if truth be told, he was now
beyond peeved, regretting the day he’d disclosed his secret stash, the so
called, medicinal brew to him. “Here, you stay put while I’ll go get us some
medicinal brew. That should be
sufficient to ease any would be discomfort to you.”
“But, brother, I would not
dream of putting you to so much trouble.” Fayet protested, halfheartedly.
“Nonsense, I insist you
stay and partake some. It’s the least I can do.” Even as he said this, Muro was
cursing him under his breath.
‘You draw a hefty
price, this better be good!’ Again,
he inwardly huffed as he went to retrieve a small portion of his hoard, the
medicinal concoction, one he’d so masterfully adapted, through his extensive
knowledge of medicine and chemistry.
The so called remedial,
therapeutic ingredients, cured over time in such a way, that when ingested, it
intoxicated the senses, akin to inebriated state. The only drawback was that
the ingredients to this private stash, had to be carefully, in miniscule doses
siphoned off-from the dried ingredients stored in kitchens or jealously guarded
herbal storages- so as not to be noticed, then secretively ripened under
various guises, mixed and then allowed final maturity in particular containers
in such a way as to not incur suspicion or discovery. With that much trouble, he’d jealously
guarded the fruits of his labor, till that day of accidental discovery by Fayet. Since then, he’d been a pest, every so often
calling on him to extort some- supposedly in fair exchange of some vital
information as latter was better positioned to obtain it, but specifically, for
Fayet’s lasting discretionary silence.
Muro dawning a deceptively appeasing smile to his lips, first cleared the table of the game board, fetched some goblets (glass, cup) then going over dug up the clay flagon from one such hiding place- a seemingly innocuous flowerpot. Brushing off the unwanted debris, he broke open the seal and poured a generous portion of the contents into Fayet’s cup. So potent was the concoction, that a single mouthful equaled a full cup of alcoholic beverage.
Fayet’s beaming face only
served to annoy him further. “How
generous you are brother to treat me to your special remedy!”
That’s right, rub
salt on the wound. “Brother, you do me too much honor,”
nevertheless, he grunted. “Clearly, this is but an ordinary cooling beverage,
to help alleviate your discomfort.”
“Thanks all the same.”
without further due, unceremoniously Fayet raised the cup to his lips, the
saliva already glistening at the corners of his mouth, with ready anticipation.
Muro was the senior of the
two, but his unassuming straightforward, and unbending, stubborn nature had
impeded his advance in the order, and he was oftentimes assigned to mundane,
menial tasks. At least that’s what it seemed on the outset; whilst Fayet with
his ready wit, with his craftiness and glib tongue, quite the popular person
with wide circle of friends, through his amicable deference to his superiors-
especially those that allocated duties to the lower orders- had always landed
himself the latent lucrative jobs.
Tall in stature (height), with a fair
complexion and gentle eyes, Fayet always donned that most likable smile and his
innermost charm to melt away all contempt, jealousy and anger in his
adversaries. One could never stay mad at
him or deny him favors for too long.
“Well, as I was saying, this person in
question, who had been entrusted with delivering the letter, well, he noticed
that the adhesive of the seal had not dried properly. So, taking a chance I... I mean, he carefully
pried it open and peered at the contents before re-sealing it and delivering it
to His Worship’s confidence. You would
never have guessed at the contents of that letter.” He stopped to swallow some more supposed
cooling beverage, and then waited for the other to urge him to continue. When Muro did not oblige, Fayet bit
disappointed, resumed, “One request was what you would expect, being for the
ancestors- Nothing unusual in that, but the other three listings, well, they
were most curious. At the top of the
list, instead of the usual one, of our reining
Sovereign’s name, was the cryptic allusion to late Sovereign, you know, the
one who was deposed.” Again, he paused
for a reaction. “Fortunately, I am gifted in such and was able to decipher it
without an extensive effort, that’s how I came to know of it, in case you’ve
been wondering.” He then volunteered gleefully, the effects of the drink
already going to his head.
“That is most curious.” Muro
was forced to agree. “Loyalists, still
existing in our midst, I would have thought that they’ve all been annihilated
long ago?”
“It goes to show you, one
can never be certain about anything.” Fayet
grunted. “Didn’t I promise you this would be good? Wait till you hear the rest. The other request was for a name I’d never
seen, “Lujeling Osywie”, not even from this country. I mean it was foreign in origin.”
“So, what,” Muro remained
unimpressed.
“Well, don’t you think
it’s strange, especially since they made no claim to be foreigners?”
“Oh, you can be so exasperating!” Muro lashed
out at Fayet, having reached the end of his patience. Besides, his sense, his
reasoning mind was also being affected somewhat, (not yet dulled though) by his
consumption of the potent brew.
“Has it ever occurred to
you that maybe, despite all seeming appearances, they are perhaps some affluent
merchant families or something like it after all. Why stop there, the next thing you’ll be
laying claim, I bet, is that they are not a family, that they are not even
related! Besides, why don’t you just drop this entire pretense, this mocking
charade? You really are insulting my
intelligence with your insistence that it was not you who peered into that
envelope. Why don’t you just come clean
with me? Or is it that, after all this
time and after all your claims you still mistrust me?”
“I already have done so,
and more than once, I might add.”, Muro protested.
“You have a very fertile
imagination; I grant you that. Even if that was so, why waste time here, so far
from the capital or the other such metropolis, where ample opportunity exists?”
“I don’t know, to tell you
the truth. That part is a conundrum to
me also.” Fayet shrugged. “Unless they
are in hiding and need a place to lay low for a time. I mean, who would look for foreign spies
here?”
“Still,” Muro demurred,
“why risk compromising their cover with their untimely visit here, instead of a
more usual time. And surely it would be
some poor disguise: noted gentlemen with such attractive youths as his kin,
spies, bah!?”
“That proves it!” Fayet
excitedly interjected, “Normal concealing abnormal, and that in turn,
concealing normal? Don’t you see how
perfect their cover is? Look how much
trouble I’m having, laboring to convince you of the idea. One more thing, when the elderly gentleman
bathed, I saw how his right arm was severed, a clean cut right below the elbow,
as if it was caused by a sword or ax. A
surgeon would have cut the joint, and an accident would have left messier scar
tissue. I tell you, there is something
suspicious about that lot.”
“And wait, till you hear
more. The third name, a non-distinctive
name, but parchment held against the light revealed that there had been
something else, deliberately expunged underneath; unfortunately I could not
quite make out what it was, still, few bits looked like - ‘hu...rrog..Zho’. Now I ask you, why go through so much trouble
to supplant it?”
“You’re sure it hadn’t
been an ordinary, innocent mistake, set to, right?”
“Why say so, you don’t
believe that any more than I do.”
Fayet’s good mood in a
puff of smoke had now vanished in thin air as his head was riddled with
rebellious, skirmishing facts that (other) latter had invoked; hence, he
retaliated. “Boy, you are dense. If the truth, like a big, ugly fly, landed on
your nose you would not see it and, like you are doing now, you would deny its
presence.”
This was uncalled for, how could he stand by and let
this brute affront him? Not only had Fayet
consumed his scant reserve, taken him for a ride, but now he would stoop so low
to openly insult him in his face, by making fun of his nose! The latter knew that, because of a recent
manifest pimple (zit), this was a contentious issue with him!!! Muro was so filled with rage that he wished
he could pound Fayet into dust. But that would not do; so instead, he took a
long slow intake of breath, inwardly recited the prayer of patience and took a
sip from his goblet, as he forced restraint on his anger.
“I think you’d better go now; I have to get up
early tomorrow.” he repeated bluntly when the other refused to take the
hint. He had meant to leave it there,
but this time he could not stop himself from adding, “Not all of us are as
favored as you.”
“Tsk, tsk.” Fayet growled,
having caught Muro’s words. “So that’s
the thanks I get for my troubles.
Brother beware of your shifting color.
Spare no caution, lest some insects mistake you for a green plant and
start gnawing away at your most prominent projection…Ha, ha, ha!” Rising from his seat he belched laughter into
Muro’s face.
It was all he could do to
stem the urge to strike this upstart Fayet.
And so, the two had parted as adversaries, cursing inwardly, the ground
the other walked on.
The estrangement had no
lasting effect however, by morrow, when the effects of potion wore off, their
fury would similarly wane and Fayet, with his amicable ways, with his sleek,
wagging tongue, would once again inveigle himself into Muro’s good graces.
~