THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 2

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 2

NEVETSECNUAC AND GHOST

                                                                       

 As they walked side by side in the direction of the old, pompous establishment, Lu reflected on the stir his mere presence would beget and, envisioning the consequential mayhem, it gave him such immense satisfaction that he beamed a broad smile.

 Grinning, he shot frequent glances at Svein to observe this youth's striking good looks and honorable bearing. Now that he thought about it, Svein's features did conjure up a faint image in his memory, but he could not tell exactly who this youth reminded him of.

Turning this way and that, they finally reached the ostentatious looking place, with its gaudy decorations, where strange music wafted to the outside. Boldly leading the way, Lu mounted the stairs in quick succession and entered the establishment. He sat himself squarely at a table by the window across from Svein and called for the waiter.

Due to the lateness of the hour, as Lu had anticipated, there were no troublesome officials or constables about and so the place was only half full.

 The brazen few, being their usual obnoxious selves, were engaging all the six or eight waiters that scurried around to serve them.  The proprietor, turning away from mollifying a distinguished-looking customer in a private corner, sighted a common beggar seated across from a fine-looking gentleman, and became so incensed that he volleyed a torrent of abuse upon Lu, endeavoring to drive him away.

The disgruntled, snotty waiter that had walked away with their order, on hearing the commotion, had poked his head out of the kitchen in time to witness the return volley of curses from Lu, and the apologies from his boss as he quickly snatched the silver.

 The waiter quickly concealed his bemused smirk however when the proprietor, red faced with swollen eyes flashing fire and grumbling under his breath, burst into the kitchen to bellow an order of complimentary drinks for Lu and Svein.  Meanwhile the very presence of a beggar had so outraged some haughty customers that, one after another they rose and took their leave in a huffing hurry, sending the waiters and the proprietor into a flurry of activity and humble apologies.

This outrageous treatment of Lu so vexed Nevetsecnuac’s sense of fairness that with a long face he contemplated leaving the premises in disgust; only he did not know how best to propose this to Lu without offending him. His absentminded stare rested on the steamy soup that was just then placed before them as the first course.

"It would be the same anywhere else.” Lu shook his head, surmising what was on Svein's mind.  “Provided that is, another kitchen would be open on this particular night.”

He wrinkled his nose, nonchalantly snorted, then picked up a wooden spoon continued to noisily slurp his hot soup. 

Lu's stubbornness and courage won him, Nevetsecnuac’s admiration. With an assenting smile Nevetsecnuac joined him in sipping the soup, though he did not find it particularly tasteful.

Unperturbed by all the hidden scorn, contemptuous looks and jeers of the waiters and few remaining customers, Lu, downed numerous large cups of the house brew, which oddly enough had little effect on him, and polished off with obvious relish several plates of the restaurant's choice entrees. He then leaned back contentedly in his chair and rubbed his swollen stomach. Adopting purposeful ill manners, he belched loudly then addressed Svein at a resounding volume for all to hear, "I would like to propose that we frequent this place from now on. The service may leave much to be desired, but the food is satisfactory enough for my discriminating palate. What do you say, my young friend?"

The room was plunged instantly into deathly silence. The mortified proprietor, masking his look of dismay, looked searchingly into the eyes of the few remaining, vexed customers with a reassuring smile on his lips that seemed to say, “they will not set foot in here again. Not if I can help it!”

Nevetsecnuac, suppressing his laughter, nodded, and loudly concurred with Lu, "I would be most happy to, sir; how about tomorrow and the night after that?"

"I have no other pressing engagements next two days, so yes, I will be at your disposal.” Lu winked.

A cold shudder went up the proprietor's spine as he scurried off to hide once more in the kitchen. Shortly after, the customers heard him scolding the staff inside as he vented his anger on the hapless cook and kitchen staff.

                                                                              ~

 

When Nevetsecnuac and Lu finally left the premises in the small hours of the night only shadows inhabited the lonely street. Immediately after their departure all the lights of the establishment were quickly turned off (extinguished), all windows tightly shut and the door hastily locked and bolted.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu rounded the corner in silence, then, unable to constrain themselves any longer, burst out in roars of laughter, scaring the lone stray cat onto the rooftop.

“I thank you sir, for this joyous relief.”  Lu wiped away happy tears from the corners of his eyes, “I don’t know how long it’s been since I last laughed.” 

He then thanked Svein (Nevetsecnuac) with a certain elegance for his hospitality. As they continued their seemingly aimless stroll down the street Lu looked up and sang praises to the hazy full moon that, from time to time, peeped teasingly out from behind the dark clouds and bathed the streets in a silver glaze.  The cool breeze, in a symphony with his song, from time to time, sent swirls of dust and debris dancing into the air, choking their lungs, stuffing their noses, and reddening their eyes. Despite this, Lu continued (carried on) with his lively, gay tunes.

"You were too polite to question me during dinner, and even after.” Lu suddenly stopped singing, looked down and thoughtfully shook his head. As Nevetsecnuac searched for the right words to say, Lu now gazed intently at his face, his expression suddenly serious.

  "But this is no place to talk.” he held out a restraining hand until a solitary cloaked stranger that had suddenly appeared, just as swiftly disappeared from view.

 "I would like, however, to invite you to my humble dwelling, where we may converse at length away from any prying eyes and ears. You may not see them, but they are there. This particular neighborhood is full of busybodies."  He shouted out the last sentence, almost as a dare. When Svein (Nevetsecnuac) made a gesture of assent, Lu urged, "Then let us hasten away from here.   Around the bend, on Luckdown Street, we can be at ease. Whatever you do, avoid Royal, Temple, and Court Streets like the plague. That's where the lofty and powerful live, and of course you must shun Imperial Street where the magistrate's offices are."

He had kept up a fast pace while he imparted this council to Svein, his tone no less compassionate and sincere than that of a father addressing a son. Another gusting wind rising just then, swathed the entire region in an oppressive, pitch darkness.  Moments later a heavy downpour mercilessly drummed on their heads, sending the few stray cats and dogs scurrying for cover. Lightning flashed and thunderbolts crashed intermittently around them.

"This way, son,” Lu, with renewed vigor, hastened his steps, veering around many corners to finally lead them to the most isolated part of the town. His good humor still with him, Lu chuckled repeatedly to himself, "I needed a good wash anyway."

This most desolate part of the street was flanked by the ghostly ruins of once grand mansions. 

“Watch your step!” Lu warned; hop skipping the checkered uneven ground with the vitality of a young boy as he continued to lead the way.

Predictably stolen for use elsewhere, Svein mused, observing the unsightly gaps in cobblestones that had once paved the road but were now filled with rainwater.  

 "You won't believe it from the look of things, but these once stately homes used to belong to important dignitaries (notables, personages) and this street once thronged with luxurious carriages day and night. Over there...” he stopped, as the pelting rain cascading down over the brim of his straw hat like strings of pearls effectively concealed his pained look.

 "But the calamities of the past decade have reduced them to this state!” he resumed.

 "Yes, this neighborhood has had its share of grief which, I'm afraid, would be too long in telling. Now, even thieves dare not venture here, for fear of the were-foxes and avenging spirits said to inhabit the ruins."  Throwing his head back he let out a bitter laugh.

“As if the dead would be more terrifying than the…. Ha!”

A few steps further Lu stopped and announced with a grand gesture of his hand, "We have arrived at long last."

He swiftly climbed in twos and threes the dilapidated stone steps flanked by the badly maimed statues of guardian deities and, with some effort, pushed to open a tall gate whose blue-green paint was further peeled by the pelting rain.  The scarred stone pillar foundations, precarious brick walls, several dilapidated doors leading to phantom rooms with rotting wooden beams overhead mottled with moss and a thick layer of dust greeted them inside.

 Several Lighting flashes streaking in through wide gaps lit the hallway with a ghostly sheen. With the aid of a lamp, they made their way down the wide, empty, dark corridor as cobwebs frequently brushed against Nevetsecnuac’s face while the smells of mildew mixed with moldering earth assailed his nose.  Their footsteps sent an occasional pair of shining red eyes scurrying into the corner and the flashes of lightning sent writhing patches of carpet flowing into the wall.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu ambled to the rear of the house and descended a flight of stone steps to reach an eerie courtyard where ancient trees obscured the sky, and mist stirred the tall grass and rank vegetation. Badly corroded bronze columns lined the maze of pathways that was paved with stones of varied sizes.

Strangely enough though, the air here was laden with the fragrance of flowers, their sweet, exotic perfume conquering the musty and rank decaying matter that surrounded them. The snaking route, flanked by cassia trees, delivered them to the shores of a manufactured (man-made) lake.  Traversing a small, stone bridge they followed a zigzag path that led them through a garden of magnolia to a maze of fences which they twisted and turned, to get through.

 Holding onto a stone balustrade they mounted another flight of sandstone stairs, passed through a moon gate, and finally arrived at another set of buildings.  When Lu pushed open the door at the far end of the hall its creaking sound startled the principal inhabitant of the room; a large, male bat.  In greeting he flapped his wings and brushed their heads as he circled above them to disappear behind a wooden ceiling beam.

"He's harmless.” Lu reassured Svein (Nevetsecnuac). "I don't know why, but he prefers to share this space with me rather than mingle with his friends in the other rooms."

A cursory glance revealed to Nevetsecnuac a partially burned mahogany bed with its tattered quilt, small table, makeshift chair, camphor-wood chest and a pile of firewood in the corner.  These salvaged furnishings were all that afforded Lu any comfort here.

"It's not much, but it’s home.  Now, do not go feeling sorry for me." Lu admonished with good humor, surmising Svein's thoughts. "Its best we chuck (shed, discard) these wet things and hang them to dry, or we'll catch our death of cold."

As Nevetsecnuac made to comply, a sudden breeze, fragrant with orchid, jasmine, and musk, rushed into the room, making the flame on Lu's lamp quiver, almost extinguishing it.  Placing the lamp onto the table, Lu turned, "I hope you don't mind my frequent visitor?"

Nevetsecnuac’s response froze on his lips when he felt a silky cloth brush against him then a cold, invisible hand lightly caressed his cheek and gently stroked his hair. Checking his taut nerves, he inquired about the ghost's identity.

"I wish I knew, but she has never revealed her gracious countenance to me, nor has she favored me with a solitary word. I only feel her presence occasionally when I'm in here."

 He winked and added with a chuckle, "There's no cause for alarm, for she has not injured me thus far."

Nevetsecnuac smiled to cover his embarrassment and looked away. Suddenly his attention was caught by a scroll mounted on the far wall. Drawing near, he craned his neck and strained his eyes to read the verses, barely visible in the dim Light. Almost instantly he jerked his head back in amazement and his eyes misted. He had recognized a remarkably familiar calligraphy.

"His Lordship's words on loyalty are forever engraved on my heart and soul.” Lu proudly announced then went on to recite the verses straight from memory. "That scroll is the first and last thing I have greeted every day for the last nineteen years of my Life. It is a pity you are too young to have known the noble Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  Ah, but there is so much you don't know, so much that needs to be told."  Sighing he left Nevetsecnuac’s side to shake the quilt and then invited his guest to make himself comfortable.

Mechanically, Nevetsecnuac sat on the edge of the bed.  Oblivious to the dampness of the room which chilled him to the marrow, Nevetsecnuac lent an ear to the rain and incessant winds that moaned through the grove of tall cypresses outside. This, compounded with the plaintive shrilling of insects from their shelters inside created a lugubrious consonance that resembled the ghosts' lamentation and oppressed his soul into abysmal depths.  Hot tears welled up in his eyes as he vacantly stared at the small fire Lu had just constructed in a corner. The dancing flames recalled those of a remote cabin where a happy group had enjoyed a peaceful life.

Wrapped in mournful reflections as well, Lu pulled up the makeshift chair beside Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and sat quietly.

 "I wish I could offer you some tea, especially on a bitter night such as this.” he apologized, breaking the veil of silence between them.

"This used to be my favorite study", he said, gazing around him at the bare wood, "but all is gone now; the books, paintings, scrolls, the furnishings, even the...”  He dropped his head and lapsed into silence, loneliness gnawing at his heart despite his present companion.

Nevetsecnuac managed a few words of solace to lighten the mood.

A fleeting, polite smile brushed Lu's lips as he responded, "Please forgive me sir; you have not come all this way to be burdened with my troubles. I am obliged to you for your patience and understanding. Despite our vast age difference, you have been a receptive companion…. Still..."  Lu heaved a deep sigh; his features cast in melancholy as he knitted his brows and stared blankly into the distance. His soul in obvious torment, he fidgeted in his seat then jumped up in irritation and began pacing the room, muttering incomprehensible jargon to himself.

"How I do carry on like a madman!” shamefaced, he sat down again.  "Things have been bottled up in me for so long that...”  He looked up at Svein apologetically and, encouraged by the empathetic smile and understanding nod, he resumed. "Had I not been away at the time I, too, would have joined them and would not be here tonight, talking to you like this. Alas, everything in life is pre-ordained."  Once more he stalled, gazing vacantly at the far wall through the tears misting his eyes. "But it’s hard…And why, why did they have to perish so painfully? Why were they fated to suffer such torment?"

(END OF SECTION 2)

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- A MISSIVE FROM BOST

EPISTLE: 1

This is not a sugarcoated epic, fantasy story, though it is a fantasy, The story encompasses: imaginary beasts (dragons), supernatural entities, apparitions (ghosts, goblins, etc.), bizarre alien beings, as well, ordinary Mortals. Mostly, however, it deals with the Mortal and veiled Immortal realms and their power struggles of both economic and ruling politics.

Main story revolves around the once mighty kingdom of Wenjenkun, which presently is on the decline. With the usurper Zakhertan Yozdek at its helm, though it’s still a strong nation, it harbors many dark secrets (sins, harm, mayhem, ills) beneath those invincible and seemingly just rule of law: with rampant cruelty, deceit, multitude human adversities, oppression, rife corruption, alongside destructive, evil (malicious and immoral) elements, all culminating (climaxing), at the core (the Imperial capital).  

Consequently, there are budding seeds of rebellion throughout Wenjekun, though still in its infancy, it will nevertheless be triumphant in the end, for the force of good always wins over evil.

Meanwhile, the other Mortal realms (domains, empires, kingdoms) are also factored into the ongoing epic story; mostly neighboring hostile nations with their Machiavellian politics and encapsulated history, posing everlasting danger to the stability of Wenjenkun.

Amidst this prodigious pessimistic viewpoint which explores varied human characteristics running through the epic story of Legend of Nevetsecnuac, are the starkly (blatantly harshly) depicted malevolent harm and dreadful tragedies of ordinary citizens at the hands of debauched (ruthless) sovereigns and the ruling elite (greedy, culpable aristocrats, and base officials), as well, of artful spies, illicit institutes, indomitable assassins. Counterbalancing this, are the multitude inserts (specks) of benevolent gems, intrepid deeds of steadfast scholars (literate), romance, acts of kindness, generosity and mercy, valiant loyalty, subtle pearls of wisdom, strong faith, eternal bonds of friendship, mystery, and finally, implausible feats of heroism by the seemingly ordinary citizens with hidden virtuous.

The ethical (honorable) tenet and moral dogma (thread) delicately woven throughout Wenjenkun’s historical tapestry, hopefully, will foster the crucial fulfillment and optimism for that altruistic society (civilization, culture).

THE ASSASSINS- SECTION 17 (CONCLUSION)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE ASSASSINS- SECTION 17

Brandishing his sword as he stood in ready stance, Alec bellowed, “I am Heng Erling, the only surviving son of Marshal Gustav Erling and I have waited all my life for this day of vengeance!”

“I should have known you were (false) duplicitous right through” Nevetsecnuac fumed.

“A leopard doesn’t change its spots!”

 “Call it what you will, “Heng Erling laughed. “Brace yourself, for you shall be the first to perish at my hand, and that cursed Lord Asger isn’t going anywhere, either.  He forsook his own flesh and blood son Ivar Marrog Zhon, in place of you and, while you grew up in relative safety and comfort in that mountain cabin, his son from infancy has been languishing in a dark, foul dungeon beneath the Capital, never knowing a day without torture.”

“Hah, you think him a noble Lord, but in all these years, he never strove or mustered able men to rescue his own flesh and blood; instead, he cowered like a spineless fiend, biding his time and nourishing dreams of glorious return on your coattails, in that mountain retreat?”

“I’ve heard enough out of you. How dare you malign uncle, a noble Lord with your false, delusions; is there no end to your treachery?”  Nevetsecnuac brandishing his sword, raced towards him with the ferocity of a tiger.

All during the ensued fight Nevetsecnuac tried desperately to repute Heng Erling’s shocking revelations (disclosed facts) about Lord Asger’s forsaken son; unbidden however, certain facts too swiftly rushed to mind validating some of it, such as the seemingly benign incident in the “Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple”. Nevetsecnuac recalled all too vividly, Asger’s (Stark’s) accidental inclusion of the name “Ivar Marrog Zhon” in the list, before his quickly erasing it. And recently still, when at the stables Alec, rather Heng, had made the mention of Asger’s son, Nevetsecnuac recalled, how he was curtly stopped. Nevetsecnuac’s conscience thus troubled him as he fought two wars within and without; therefore, for a time Nevetsecnuac’s prowess had been hampered while he fended off Heng’s repetitive, fierce offensives.

Heng with his physiological warfare, thus, once or twice had almost got the upper hand and very nearly vanquished Nevetsecnuac. On one instance, Nevetsecnuac back flipped to escape the brunt of the blade that instead, cut a razor slice across his chest.  Rebounding quickly however, for Nevetsecnuac’s admiration and love for his uncle, Lord Asger was infinite; he had again picked up the momentum and very nearly bested Heng.

Equally resilient Heng withstood these offensives with his remarkable strength, skill and agility; meanwhile, encouraged by the prior result, again he strove to further disarm Nevetsecnuac.

“Some say Ivar Marrog Zhon has been kept alive, barely, as a ruse to draw the traitor from his secretive lair, but our Sovereign could not have known the heartlessness of this Lord,”

Heng spat the word Asger, as he continued with his deadly strikes.

“Some hero; he ran away in the heat of the battle, while his castle, his lands were being besieged, forsook his obligation to his father’s bloodline, for the likes of you? Answer me this, does Lord Asger hold aspirations of grandeur, thinking of the day of your being reinstated to power?  Fool, as if that would ever happen!”

“You know nothing of the truth.” Nevetsecnuac could not help but bellowed back, even though grasping Heng’s sly strategy, he had already resolved to maintain inner composure while concentrating an all-out effort at defeating this very dangerous, and cunning   adversary.

  “As for your beautiful wife, when I’m done with you both, she'll make a fine present for His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek to defile and torture.  Eunuch Egil Viggoaries can (devour) chew on the bones of your twins afterwards!"  Undeterred, Heng threw his head back in a monstrous laugh.

Despite his doggedness, Nevetsecnuac felt as though ice water had been poured all over his steaming body.  At the same time inexplicable sorrow had seeped into his heart as he, a recent dad, grasped the full implications of Lord Asger’s supreme sacrifice.

Fiery contempt for Heng flamed in Nevetsecnuac’s chest and filled his spleen with rage.  Grinding his teeth, he reviled Heng, and at lightning   speed he again powerfully struck the other.  They clashed, weapons thrusting, flailing against each other.  During this deadly exchange (skirmish) Nevetsecnuac suddenly realized that Heng had concealed his true abilities at all prior confrontations; in fact, his fighting skills were most formidable, far more formidable than Duan’s.  With the added advantages of incorporating Nevetsecnuac's fighting style alongside his, he had now become a most fierce (challenging) adversary, a virtually invincible opponent.

 Lord Asger would be disappointed in me and appalled, all with good reason. Nevetsecnuac bowed his head in shame. How could I, with all my years of training, allow myself to be so completely duped? Fueled by this added indignation and ire, with his unleashed innate (inherent) survival instincts Nevetsecnuac was instantaneously transformed into an intrepid, more indomitable warrior. 

Presently, with such ardent, livid antagonists, the earth shook (trembled) from the ferocity of their combat. Limbs of trees fractured or splintered, surrounding foliage and the like were all pulverized or destroyed, rocks, boulders were smashed to bits, split apart or uprooted, as the intense conflict ceaselessly continued.

Lasting all night, after countless rounds of pitched battle, still neither of them could gain the upper hand.  Each time Nevetsecnuac lunged at Heng his thrust was nimbly parried and each blow of Heng's was warded off with little room to spare.

Finally, Heng made an ill-timed thrust at Nevetsecnuac's heart and Nevetsecnuac, with incredible dexterity, spun around it and, twisting his opponent's sword hand, forced Heng to tumble to the ground, dropping his weapon.  Heng rolled then somersaulted to avoid the assault that followed, at the same time retrieving (grabbing) his weapon and landing back on his feet to immediately hack back at Nevetsecnuac.  Again, each attack was parried, each blow warded off, till the force and lightening   rapidity of the strikes barely managed, took its toll on Heng and at one point having lost his grip, his sword flew off his hand aching across the sky to land, rather, be buried in the midst of the nearby lake.

 Heng stood, defenseless, glaring at Nevetsecnuac.

"Ask for mercy", Nevetsecnuac shouted, "and I'll spare your life."

"I'll see you in hell, first!"  Heng swore and darted towards his horse. 

"Stop your running   and fight, you cowardly fiend!" Nevetsecnuac had raced after Heng.

Heng’s stallion spooked by this sudden charge however, had bolted and neighing wildly, nearly trampled Heng under his hooves. But not before had Heng retrieved something he’d needed from the secret compartment of the saddle.

As Heng fell back he quickly tugged the items under his waist wrap; he grumbled a curse on his breath while his eyes briefly trailed his horse galloping into the distance.

Heng swerved (veered) and looked askance at the other but knew better than to try approaching Fiery Comet; resigned to his fate, perfectly composed, he then turned to face Nevetsecnuac.

Now all this had transpired in the blinking of an eye.

 "Cowardly?  Who's the coward here? I dare you to fight without your precious sword!" Heng at this point, defiantly hollered back.

As it was, Nevetsecnuac's code of honor constrained him from striking an unarmed man.  "That suits me fine.” he tossed the sword aside and rushed to engage Heng in hand-to-hand combat.

They fought seemingly endlessly, with such force, such adroitness, the like of which was unseen in any mortal man.  Again, the surrounding area became the casualty of this intense battle. Perfectly matched, the hand-to-hand combat would have lasted forever and ever, but Heng was fast nearing his patience, and sought to bring a quick resolution to this obvious impasse.

And so, after his deadly strike, in an unexpected maneuver, Heng turned tail and fled, as he ran, he withdrew handful of tiny razor-sharp metal spikes with poisoned tips, from beneath his waist wrap, then while still running   he half turned and hurled them with lightning   speed at Nevetsecnuac.

 With incredible agility, Nevetsecnuac dodged the deadly spikes’ course, and the metal spikes continued, flew by and buried their heads in the same ancient tree that his sword had once sliced.

 “Blast!!”  Heng cursed under his breath, as he same time, taking advantage of Nevetsecnuac's momentary distraction, in lightning speed, retrieved the other concealed poisoned stiletto from his high leather boot.

First, he allowed Nevetsecnuac to catch up then, whirling, Heng swiftly (longlined it) thrust the blade into Nevetsecnuac’s chest, having held no qualms at all about killing an unarmed foe.

Failing in this, for Nevetsecnuac’s quick action hurled it from his hand and buried it into the midst of thick, thorny bush, Heng somersaulted, shot through the air and dove right into the frigid waters of the lake. He was gone from view only for a spell, emerging shortly after brandishing the blade in his hand; he landed squarely in front of Nevetsecnuac who was rushing to retrieve his discarded sword.  Unarmed Nevetsecnuac with sure proficiency fended of the deadly assault then swiftly arriving at the spot where he had discarded his sword earlier, he nimbly kicked it to waist height with his toe, grabbed it without breaking stride and turned to parry Heng's murderous slash.

Again, they fought for another twenty to thirty rounds but this time, despite his prowess, Heng, chilled to the bone, began to falter.  In contrast, Nevetsecnuac maintained his speed and agility and wielded his weapon with such consummate skill that, in the end, he cut a three-inch-deep swath under Heng's ribs.

Heng froze in mid-parry then collapsed to the ground in a swelling pool of crimson.  Blood and curses spat from Heng's lips, each breath making him writhe in agony as he muttered bitter recriminations against his own impatience, arrogance and folly in underestimating Nevetsecnuac's competence.

"If only I had waited for the reinforcements and been content letting the axman take your head.  I've failed miserably.  My life's ambition has been frustrated."  Hot tears mixed with the blood on Heng's cheeks.

"My doomed father, forgive me.  I've condemned you to an eternity of torment, wearing the chains of ignominy, in the underworld!  My beloved ill-fated mother, Lingrace, forgive me, oh how I have failed you both!”

 Heng swallowed hard, thinking the rest.

Oh mother, you forsook your virtue and bore such shame during all those years you suffered the lustful, lecherous pawing of Zakhertan Yozdek.  You debased yourself as attendant at his wife's feet, just so I could live and avenge my father's death. Please mother, don’t curse me forever; find it in your heart to forgive, to absolve me of my failings for I’ve done my best, always have; unfortunately, the fiendish foes are backed by powerful demons. With Heaven forsaking the good, I was doomed to fail.

This was the only version Heng had desperately clanged to, always believing in his heart of hearts that his supposed angelic, saintly mother had been forced into that compromising situation, in order that her son's life was spared and also that the scant hope was kept alive, the prospect and the sole aspiration of avenging her husband’s untimely, ignominious death! 

Ensuing years of her coercion Zakhertan  Yozdek had been, by degrees, spared from any and all blame; instead, intense hatred and animosity had been fueled and then deferred to that vilified Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and Prince Nevetsecnuac.

 In blind faith Heng envisioned his mother, to his dying breath, as a self-sacrificing, tragic, victimized and molested heroine, rather than the deceitful, conniving and ambitious woman that she was. 

How could Heng face the ugly truth and keep intact his sanity?  How could his tormented mind surmise, the underlying, contemptible sole reason, that he had been spared for the horrific, sickeningly gruesome demises of his elder siblings, all because his mother had, long before the usurpation, covertly had intimate liaison with Zakhertan  Yozdek. And that suspicion, the question of Heng's paternity, was what had excluded him from the executioner’s block (gallows) or fate worse than death.

 How could Heng have guessed at the root of deceit that ran so deep in his mother that, on this day, when he was sacrificing his own life not to avenge his father's death, but rather to further her underhanded, selfish desire to ingratiate herself back into Zakhertan's good graces.  And that was the sole reason she had hired covertly this assassin Duan and constrained him to take her son Heng along for the ride.

 In the meantime, despite the treachery, contempt and duplicity all that had passed between them, Nevetsecnuac, had felt certain compassion for this dying man, curled up in excruciating pain on the ground. And so, he leaned over to ask, “Can I do anything to ease your pain?"

"You can rot in hell; whelp!"  Heng's face contorted in pain at the effort it took to curse.

"I suppose there is no rebellion either,” Nevetsecnuac grumbled as he looked away, understanding the full scope of his deception.

"Haa, ha, haak!," blood welling up in Heng's throat cut short his sarcastic laugh.

 He spat it out at Nevetsecnuac and gritted his teeth in contempt. 

“That’s right, fool.  There are no rebels, no battles. The Generals lead an army of the dead.  Ha, ha, ugghh!" 

Pain again cut short his laughter as he uttered his last words with regret, “Pity that I should be the one to die, not you.  Heaven is not just."

Nevetsecnuac looked away to hide his surging emotions because he had been dealt with a crushing blow.  The lack of rebellion was not the cause of his turmoil, his deep dismay; however, rather, it was the knowledge of Lord Asger’s forsaken son.  So much had happened during these last few months. With those entire facts in a streamline racing through his mind, he plumped his seat down listlessly beside the lifeless body of Heng.

A great deal of reality had altered. He was not the person he thought he was, neither was his uncle. He’d grown up with, albeit necessary deception. As the past life in quick succession once more flashed before his mind’s eye, it resolved all that mystery he’d grown up with; so much more made sense now.

In one fell swoop many of his life’s queries had been answered.  But worst of it was the knowledge, how his beloved uncle, Lord Asger had sacrificed and endured such hardships and pain all on his behalf.

He shuddered at the thought of another innocent being, sacrificed and forsaken, worst still, imprisoned at infancy, forced to endure such torment, all because of him.

Lord Asger Marrog Zhon had sent Nevetsecnuac on, albeit with some reserve, hoping against hope that there would be some truth to Heng’s claims.  Looking at his bloodied sword, Nevetsecnuac recollected the entirety of his oath to self and Lord Asger; so, he sat, eyes cast on the ground, staring aimlessly in silent, pained concentration. 

He’d sworn the oath not to return without exacting vengeance, on behalf of all those living or perished souls. Heng’s treachery aside, Nevetsecnuac could not dismiss the fact that, Lord Asger’s son to date languished in some dark dreary dungeon.

 With lowered head, Nevetsecnuac ground his teeth and clenched his fist as he seethed.

  If he were to return, Asger would never let him go on this perilous rescue mission.

Teuquob and his bellowed children, their dependence on him could sway his determination. But how could he last another day, knowingly perpetuating this unethical, immoral feat (act)?  Lord Asger had sacrificed so much… Least he could do, is try, try to rectify this grave injustice and reunite him with his flesh and blood son!

Suddenly he knew the action he must take to make all these wrongs right. He could only estimate the scope of difficulty, the unforeseen challenges of his chosen (decided) course, but same time he knew it was the only honorable thing to do.

Springing to his feet, he threw both arms into the air and let out an earth-shaking roar

“Heaven bear witness to my new vow (pledge), whatever the cost; I shall exact vengeance on the Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek for all the wrongdoings he’s committed and, reunite Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon with his son Ivar Marrog Zhon.”

Nevetsecnuac afterwards (next) with meticulous care buried Heng Erling’s corpse under some rocks, poured libation (offering the entirety of wine which Heng had kept in animal skin vessel/container, and used it sparingly, since the time he’d accompanied Duan) over his grave and said some prayers for his soul.       

 At that moment in time, the first light of day broke; Nevetsecnuac’s eyes beheld a phantasm dragon suddenly manifest in the crimson sky, which it then quickly sailed on by amidst red clouds, till it dissipated.  

Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully nodded, then unable to stand still a moment longer he, vaulting into Fiery Comet's saddle, galloped the steed in the direction of the morning sun.

(THE END OF SECTION 17 – THE CONCLUSION OF THE ASSASSIONS)

 

 

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 16

 THE LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 16

It had been some time since Prince Nevetsecnuac and Alec leading their mounts, had passed through that harrowing subterranean tunnel, thankfully unscathed. Even now, Alec shuddered at the mere thought of it. He had expected it to be less arduous the second time around; in contrast, the capricious horrific incidents and the ensued wearing experience, one in particular, to date had left Alec terribly traumatized and infinitely (markedly) on edge.

  Maddeningly, the Prince had sailed through it all, not in the least bit perturbed by the onslaught of catastrophic events, unleashed by none other than Alec’s steed, and the consequential near-death experiences.

They were trekking outside now braving the elements of a different kind; unfortunately, the precarious shortcut route proved as treacherous for it was the depth of winter at these high altitudes. The ingenious contraptions of footwear with good traction, one of Asger’s clever inventions similar to that of Duan’s, had preserved them, man and mount, from more than once sinking into the depths of snow, or sliding over the terrifying precipices.

 As the wind moaned in their ears, the dense, whirling flakes flailing against their faces, their backs bent to the wind, with their horses' hooves sinking a foot deep through the powdered top layer of snow and into the tightly packed underlying layer, Nevetsecnuac and Alec rarely exchanging a word, incessantly pushed on.

Day after day enduring great hardships and untold dangers while persistently being tested by the cruel, trying forces of nature, they had hurried on to cover great distances and descend a good portion of these dicey (risky, hazardous) high altitudes.

"Perhaps we should have delayed our departure a few more months.” Alec grumbled in a barely audible voice, knowing full well that was not an option.

Nevetsecnuac shook his head and tacitly ejected, “This weather will persist until mid-summer." 

Forcing a smile, Alec nodded and continued to blindly advance into the wall of dancing flakes.  Trailing behind Nevetsecnuac, just as he had once done with Duan, despite his stamina and layers of fur, his body, his limbs yet again became benumbed with ceaseless exertion and cold; he slapped and rubbed his limbs for warmth and pursed his lips to restrain his groans and curses. In an attempt to divert his attention away from the persistent pain Alec focused instead on gauging the extent of Nevetsecnuac’ strength and stamina that spared the prince this torment; as it were, the discovery of few surprising elements earlier on, had persuaded Alec to amend (and postpone) his original intent.

After a grueling month Alec had lost all track of time, with days and nights and ceaseless drudgery of this trek intermingling with the terror of being stalked by ravenous wolves or sporadically attacked by voracious predatory beasts, all blending into one. Competent as he was, being outside of his element, he would have been wasted by the harsh environment or been devoured long ago by the beasts that had persistently, relentlessly dogged (hounded) them. To his chagrin time and again he had been constrained to concede, this certain reliance for his survival, on this very resourceful youth and his feats.

"There is a fierce storm brewing.” Nevetsecnuac stayed his footing just then, (halting,) and after his brief examination of the sky, grunted. “A little while further perhaps then we can stop.” Nevetsecnuac looked at Alec askance (sideways). 

Alec nodded without raising his head. In truth he felt ill at ease, “Was his discomfort that obvious?”

"There is an abandoned cave up ahead in which we can take shelter for the night." 

Under the cloak of white all marks had vanished, meeting Alec's skeptical gaze, Nevetsecnuac grimaced. "Don’t forget, I grew up on these mountains.  As it is we are taking the shortest route possible and should be in the safety of the foothills before long.  Otherwise, it would have taken us until next autumn, to traverse this distance."

Arrogant Alec was inwardly livid, interpreting Nevetsecnuac’s sensible words as disguised mockery, choosing to ignore the actual length of time it had previously taken him and Duan to reach the peaks.

 Latter (prince) might have grown up in these mountains, but it paled next to his grueling combat training   in Capital. Brute force, enduring stamina were only one aspect of the basic requirements; with a certain smugness therefore, Alec dourly pushed forward to advance swiftly. 

That night in the cave, shielded from the elements and warmed by the small fire, they had passed the time in relative comfort and safety.  After ingesting a barely palatable repast Alec, forgoing further exchange and sullenly giving his back to Nevetsecnuac, reclined his head in supposed sleep. Far from it, while his active mind perused through his most viable options; suddenly a fleeting, sardonic (wry) smile dawned on Alec’s lips and soon after he was lost to the world.

 The next morning, Alec seemed more affable towards Nevetsecnuac. What’s more, the remainder of the trek being mindful of Nevetsecnuac’s diffidence and anticipating Nevetsecnuac’s certain misgivings about him, Alec strove to ingratiate himself into Prince’s good graces with his most upright and frank demeanor.  By his consistent sincerity, faithfulness, humility, glib tongue, unfailing generosity, stamina and occasional heroics, by degrees (gradually) he succeeded in winning   Nevetsecnuac over.

 Now an affable travelling companion, on occasion when survival wasn’t paramount, Alec had even regaled Nevetsecnuac with accounts of heroics, adventure and tall tales of intrigue from the capital and far off parts of the Empire, fueling Nevetsecnuac’s imagination with personification and wondrous representations of the quintessence (embodiment of) world he scants knew from books.

 As they conversed to while away the lonely hours of travel, the topic of conversation skimmed over various areas of interest but decidedly rested each time on combat styles and armaments used in battle.

During one such exchange, Alec so as not to be too obvious, declaring his admiration of Lord Asger, tactfully strove to learn the finer points of Lord Asger’s fighting style; assuming that Asger had perfected his skill in martial arts, that of which made him nearly invincible, and had painstakingly passed it on to Nevetsecnuac.  Coveting this rare gift, the ambitious Alec implored Nevetsecnuac to instruct him on the finer points, whenever they took time out to rest.

"It is my life's desire, my duty to my father, to Lord Shonne Gulbrand and to you, my Prince, to be the best I can be, so that when the day comes, I may better assist our cause in battle.", he reasoned.  "For this, you must not begrudge me the benefit of your instruction, your Highness.  I've waited too long, all my life to be exact, for the day of vengeance and justice."  A note of indignation never failed to be infused into these genuine sounding requests.

Already missing his morning   exercises with Asger, Nevetsecnuac eventually acquiesced to Alec's wishes.

The addition of intense martial exercises wedged (jammed) between the grueling duration of trek, made the days and weeks pass more quickly, until finally, they, leaving behind the snowcapped mountains, reached foothills where temperatures were more moderate. 

They rode on extended periods with more ease now, oftentimes spurring their steeds into full gallop and sporadically (occasionally) racing for sport, while covering great distances.  And even though Alec’s horse repeatedly came second in every competition with the spirited (feisty) Fiery Comet, Alec’s amicability, his buoyancy and ardor never faltered.  

On these more temperate grounds, with the more frequent cloud-filled azure skies, warmer temperatures and thawing ground, it all attested to the approaching of spring.  Patches of green or brown appeared here and there on the slopes. Even a few tiny buds could be seen peeking out from the crevices, wedged between the icicles on the rock’s face.

Once, at a brief respite, bending to pick up a frail, purple flower, Alec gave a brief, admiring gaze, took a whiff of its raw fragrance then grounded it mercilessly to a soggy pulp in his hand.  His fingers and palms, steeped in the wild perfume, were stained purple with the flower's blood. With a distant, strange expression Alec hissed incomprehensibly.

Nevetsecnuac could only make out the words, "father", and "the villain must die.” 

With an uneasy feeling Nevetsecnuac’s eyes trailed Alec’s slow progression till he disappeared behind some bushes, presumably to relieve himself. On his return, with a somber countenance Alec set himself across from Nevetsecnuac.

Presently Alec appeared to have something grave on his mind, an urgent plight that was being forcefully constrained; after a dismissive shrug however, he abruptly rose and went to check in on his horse. Always respectful of another’s privacy, Nevetsecnuac chose to overlook these rare vacillating moods of Alec’s, deeming them to be just apprehension and understandable angst and disquiet stemming from impatience of reaching their set destination in time.

Subsequent days, the rocky, uneven ground, the enchanting yet precarious topography with deadly traps, constrained them to once more advance on foot. Neither of them minded this too much, for it also gave them the chance to discuss, compare and to exchange various views. Presently, as the sun's unobstructed rays bathed them in a shimmering, golden light that warmly caressed their faces, sounds of the gurgling of brooks and rivulets of melted snow and ice came from seemingly everywhere, flooding their ears.

 It was a truly spectacular warm morning that would have gladdened the weariest of hearts; but then that afternoon without warning, the rising, gusting winds whipped up the dark clouds overhead.

 The sun now in hasty retreat, the earth became gloomy, and its former gay tunes were drowned by somber whimpers and ominous drums.  There was no room for mercy in the incessant downpour that followed: its thrashing winds and rolling thunder shook all the hills around them. In the shrouding mists and pelting, wind-driven rain, Nevetsecnuac and Alec soaked to the skin, plodded (trod) mechanically, along the muddy, slushy, winding paths.

 Stopping only at night fall at a makeshift shelter, they ate some dried rations, oftentimes slept standing snuggled up to their mount for warmth or slept sitting up backs propped against some rock or tree-trunk, and then at first daylight they resumed their journey. In this way they had ridden out the storm that had lasted on and off, with persistent winds and overcast skies, for several dismal days.

                                                                                     ~

 It was quite some time before the sun’s rays had again graced the earth.  Anew, the hard ground invited Nevetsecnuac and Alec to ride in gallop. By then having reached the emerald, green flat plains, carpeted in flowers, their hearts filled with renewed anticipation, they spurred their horses to cover once more vast distances.  The incessant ride halted only when darkness enveloped the earth. As they were still far removed from the nearest dwelling, they made a camp at the edge of the densely wooded area skirting a good size lake. Finding a suitable spot, sheltered from the full fury of the elements, they tethered the horses, washed up, and then quickly consumed some sustenance.  Drained (exhausted) from the day’s strenuous ride, they propped their weary backs against sturdy trees and under the canopy of the moon and stars with the earth as their mat, they closed their eyes, finally, for that well-earned sleep.

In that dream state, Nevetsecnuac saw himself fetching some more firewood at dawn, which he promptly deposited inside the cabin, then went out to wash up by the creek. His uncle was there already, finishing up.

“You are being too remiss!” At once Stark (Lord Asger) sternly admonished him. “Danger abounds, you must remain at all times, on your guard!”

Suddenly he heard a wild ruckus coming from the stables, as there was an alarm raised by Fiery Comet, stomping and neighing. Dropping everything, in haste both, Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and Stark (Lord Asger) darted towards it to investigate.

At this juncture, Nevetsecnuac was awakened with a start and saw the blade of Alec Therkan poised over him in readiness to strike.  Reacting swiftly, Nevetsecnuac adroitly twisted to one side and the sword with a loud thwack clove the tree trunk instead.  Rolling over, Nevetsecnuac nimbly grabbed his sword just in time to dexterously block Alec's next deadly strike.

"Have you gone mad?” Nevetsecnuac shouted at him in bewilderment and sudden rage.  

Alec, his eyes glinting with murder, derisively jeered through his gritted teeth,

"Don't call me 'Alec'.  The traitor Taok Therkan died childless years ago at his own father's hand." 

 

(END OF SECTION 16)

(NEXT POST- SECTION 17- THE CONCLUSION OF THE ASSASSINS)

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 15

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 15

Lord Asger had accepted the distinct possibility that Alec and Duan were but the advance guard of a squad of assassins waiting in the wings to launch the final assault. By preventing Alec from contacting his accomplices, Asger could be sealing their own fate. To determine the veracity (accuracy) of Alec’s claims, and perhaps in due course uncover any collaborators, Asger, with a heavy heart, had finally consented to Prince Nevetsecnuac’s departure at the earliest opportunity.

“He is a lot tougher and more cunning   than he lets on.”  Asger cautioned Nevetsecnuac, advising him to temper his own impatience, to remain vigilant and to be wise beyond his years. “The truth in due course will come to light.”

Asger had scant hope that the two (Nevetsecnuac and Alec) would join up with Lord Shonne Gulbrand and the amassed armies of General Kundrick Dufo, to realize that long awaited goal of purging the usurper Zakhertan  Yozdek.  What is more, he silently feared that he could be sending Nevetsecnuac into an elaborate trap.

Asger looked away to quickly dismiss these inhibitions, concentrating his thoughts instead on his innate, firm confidence in Nevetsecnuac’s prowess. Clinging on to the belief that his nephew would circumvent all danger, expunge all the villains, and return to them in safety armed with the facts.

Regardless, their security had been breached. Upon Nevetsecnuac’s safe return, they would have to, Asger, Nevetsecnuac , Teuquob and the twins, relocate elsewhere, till such a time as a grand action was warranted.

                                                                     ~

When Alec finally awoke late afternoon, he was allowed to wash up and shared some sustenance with Lord Asger and Svein (Prince Nevetsecnuac). During this modest repast, Alec was offered prompt apologies and a very plausible explanation for his prior incapacitation, which had been seen necessary so as to allow Alec this period to recover.

 Though infuriated (irked), at least he had been spared the indignity of being bound.

 Alec, understanding their reasons therefore, meekly played along with this charade and acceded to all their wishes, as well, of him being indefinitely (incarcerated) confined to the small area within the barn. Subsequently, when it was all said and done, Alec was quietly taken aside and re-introduced to Nevetsecnuac, as the prince he sought to find. Alec on his part, feigning   surprise, had promptly paid his homage to his supposed beloved Prince. Later still, Alec was duly informed of the intended time of their departure, possibly as early as the very next day, and so elated was he that from then on, he’d remained quite contented to let things be. 

Long after they had taken their leave, Alec, unable to resist it, partook some more of the delectable morsels that had been left behind along with a pot of tea, for his at will consumption.

Overcome with sudden fatigue, too late he realized that yet again he had been duped; unable to fight the potent drug’s effects, he was rendered once more utterly dead to the world.

 

                                                                                     ~

 

Teuquob in all this time had been directed (advise) to keep well out of sight of Alec. She had thus far complied with understanding their innate concerns, but on this evening   at dusk, her curiosity overriding any reason, she’d on some pretext getting away, snuck back into the barn. 

Guilt and unease accompanied her hesitant steps as she drew nearer and nearer to the stranger. Besides which, she inwardly asserted, she needed to assuage her fears and perhaps resolve some of those persistent, annoying inner queries, before her husband embarked on this presumably dangerous, at best risky venture. She was curious to know also why,

If Asger did not trust this stranger to have him inside the cabin or at the table, why not then dispose of him and be done with it; why (would Asger) allow her husband to accompany this purported foe on the doubtless, precarious escapade?

 As she cast her gaze on the shadowy, sleeping foe’s form, the reasons suddenly were made clear. She knew then that for them to do otherwise would have been far more hazardous. Inwardly she hoped now that Asger’s confidence in Nevetsecnuac would not be in vain or misplaced.

As she had neared still closer, to place a newly filled washbasin over at the small table by the fire, Alec with his strong survival instincts, detecting a presence had at once regained consciousness. He did not let on however, and despite his groggy, dazed state, still managed to discreetly observe her. Before, during the fierce combat, he hardly had the time to note, to scrutinize her features, let alone register her exceptional beauty. Then she had been an object, a key opportunity targeted for sole destruction. But now at this proximity as if seeing her for the first time, he was taken aback and got quite incensed by the existence of such an incredible, indescribable magnificence in this remote dwelling, matchless in grace and most bewitching in allure, presumably a companion, or a mate to the prince.  The prince certainly lacks for nothing! Such a cozy arrangement! No wonder they have me persistently drugged and incapacitated! Alec gnashed his teeth.

Soon however, once again the sleep had claimed him.

                                                                         ~

The morning   of the departure Nevetsecnuac awoke with a start after a restless sleep and straight away noted his wife’s moist and puffy eyes, despite her attempt to hide her face from his view.

"What's wrong?"  Nevetsecnuac sat up, concerned, "Have you been crying?"  Turning   away, she was about to spring out of bed, when he tugged at her sleeve to hold her back. "Oh, you mustn't worry about my leaving, my love. There really is no danger involved in this undertaking.” he then embracing her whispered reassuringly into her ear, guessing at her concern. "Our parting will be so brief you won't even have the chance to miss me."  He did not dare tell her more. Then accordingly, in an excited voice spoke of his duty and obligation to not only the living but those long dead. Then, for Teuquob's sake, he spoke of their hopeful future and his triumphant return to her and their son and daughter, how they would then live out their lives under better circumstances, in relative safety, in contentment and joy until their hairs turned gray, with justice, peace and prosperity restored to the land.  "You must look ahead and rejoice in that future happiness not shed tears. Unless, that is, you doubt my ability.” he gently admonished her.

"It's not that.” her lips quivered, and she once again turned her face away to evade his questioning eyes. Though she tried to resist, her heart was breaking so much that, in defiance, few tears fell, coursing (trickling) down her cheeks.

Nevetsecnuac again gently took Teuquob in his embrace and touched his lips to her tears. "Won’t you give me a big, bright smile?” softly, in a broken voice he implored her. "I want to go away remembering you such."

Concern for him gave her the will to stop. She wiped away the tears then, forcing a smile to her lips. Then in a whisper, stammered, "Please love, keep yourself safe and send for us with due speed. Lord Asger and I will not rest easily until we receive words from you."

"You left out the twins; they won’t miss me I suppose.” Nevetsecnuac jested with an exaggerated pout.

"Oh! You can be so exasperating sometimes!"  Teuquob mockingly punched his shoulder. The fiery radiance in her eyes melted his heart when she next raised her flashed face to look into his eyes. 

"Why must you tease me in this way?"  Teuquob pursing her lips turned her head away, then just as quickly, swiveled back with such a loving gaze that “Nevetsecnuac’s chest heaved with the intense emotion surging up within him. Laughing, he tenderly embraced his wife anew and showered her face with kisses. 

A gentle knock on the door just then interrupted this tender moment announcing Asger’s presence; somewhat reluctantly Nevetsecnuac got off the bed and greeted his uncle who simply said:

"Alec, in his eagerness, has already packed and is even now readying his steed for the journey. When you are dressed, I wish to have a private word with you in my room, please."

When Nevetsecnuac next saw Asger, his uncle was fully clad in white ceremonial garb and was in the act of pouring pure, chilly water from the melted snow over the swords. After the ablution, which drove out all evil influences from the forged steel, Asger held the twin swords high over his head, their blade catching the morning   light that streamed in from the window and said a votary (invocation) to the ancestors within. Once again reunited with the swords through this ceremony, Asger then held it out one of them, hilt first, to Nevetsecnuac.

To Asger the ancestor swords were objects of profound veneration. Forged at his birth amid many rites of purification and prayers to his ancestors, the pair had hung above his bed until his rite of passage into maturity and then had been given to him to learn their use.  It was believed by Asger, and by his ancestors, that such a pair of swords carried the mental, physical, and spiritual powers of their owner and his family.  Hence, on termination of Asger's life, he expected the right to be buried with them at his side.

Understanding the deep significance of such a gift, or rather a loan, Nevetsecnuac knelt to receive one of the ancestor swords of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  When the sword passed into his hands Nevetsecnuac, with deep reverence, touched the base of the blade to his forehead and vowed to use it only in the cause of justice, righteousness, and mercy.

"I, Prince Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir, son of Prince Shon Alric Therran Valamir, and grandson of His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, hereby promise to avenge the wrongful deaths perpetrated by Zakhertan  Yozdek and his followers.  I further vow to restore order and peace to this land. These vows fulfilled, I shall return to your presence, Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, to pay my respects and entrust this sword once more into your keeping."

Asger smiled in approval and uttered encouraging words to the prince, ending with, "May Heaven assists you in your fateful task, my Prince, and may the sword vanquish all enemies in your path."

After Nevetsecnuac’s farewells to his wife and his loving children he exchanged a few more private words with his uncle, at the end of which Asger patted his shoulder affectionately and said, “Rest assured, my Prince, all will be well here. I give you my solemn word that I shall take diligent care of Teuquob, Alric and Lueling. I will shield them from the least harm and safeguard them with my life. All I ask is that you return to us safely (safe and sound).  Now at the risk of being redundant, remember that once you leave here you must concentrate your thoughts only on the task at hand and nothing else. "

 At the moment of their final parting, despite her promise to herself that she would be strong, Teuquob’s defiant tears had come perilously close to gushing out and so she bit her lip and lowered her head, missing Nevetsecnuac’s one last look back.

 A sudden cry from one of the twins inside the cabin just then beckoned Teuquob. Lord Asger stance however did not change one iota as he, with a somber face, continued to gaze after Nevetsecnuac leading Fiery Comet down the steep path slightly ahead of Alec and his mount. 

Abruptly the air at that moment grew much colder, the strong rising winds that had just then herded dark clouds over the blue fields of the sky, turning day into night; icy chill presently pierced Asger to the marrow, causing an involuntary shiver to pass through him. Dancing flakes of white snow sprinkled his garments, turning   them silvery white with random sequins. Refusing to go inside he stood woodenly, staring at Nevetsecnuac’s diminishing figure until they had entirely passed from his view.

                                                                              ~

(END OF SECTION 15)