THE FISHERMAN'S PRIZE - PART 5

 

 THE FISHERMAN’S PRIZE

(PART 5)

 

By and by the green hue made its mark in this God forsaken part of Wenjenkun. Spring season, if it could be called that, for the persistent cold weather discouraged any tender shoots or wayward blossoms from emerging tall or thriving in abundance, had eventually arrived.  Presently hardy variations did their best to accommodate the scant reptile and insect habitants. The incessant rainfall, meanwhile, raced to deck the grounds and rocks in that gray greenish moss carpet.

 

On a mundane, dreary, cool dawn, (just before at daybreak,) when low lying dense fog had again obscured visibility, a silhouette of a man was seen creeping decisively towards the protective cove where Kaimu’s and Zianko’s boats had been moored. The cloaked figure visited one briefly then going over to the other, he hunched over and adroitly implemented (carried out) the carefully devised steps.

 

    By mid-morning that same day the fog had dissipated, and the rainfall had gradually tapered off to a drizzle. Soon as the weather permitted, Kaimu was seen taking his small craft out to sea on his usual run. 

Things were different for Kaimu’s neighbor Zianko. Even though Zianko’s boat had been bigger and more equipped for the job, Zianko had never solely relied on fishing for his livelihood. He’d used the boat but rarely, on occasion, whenever the mood or craving for adventure struck him.

On this day, Kaimu had been rather surprised to note (observe) Zianko’s boat missing, but then he espied him already out at sea. Minding his business nonetheless, Kaimu rode the high waves and quickly bypassed Zianko’s boat to steer his small craft further in. But halfway to his destined spot, suddenly the (undermined) planks succumbing to the strain of the violent surfs, gave way and seawater came crushing in (pouring) with absolute potency.

There had been very little time in fact for a somber reaction, let alone seeking the reason or investigating the source, for this sudden catastrophe.

Kaimu’s heart sank in despair with the certain realization that the ever-rapacious sea would soon claim his craft, his livelihood.  At that instant even his fate seemed utterly sealed. But unwilling to face death as yet- if only for Ensa’s sake- and not wishing to be sucked into a whirlpool that the sinking craft would soon manifest (create), he dived over headlong into the treacherous, chilling waters.

A strong swimmer, Kaimu had just about managed to spread some distance between him and the sinking craft, when the most improbable thing happened!

Kaimu’s competitor and ardent foe Zianko, far from standing by and enjoying Kaimu’s great misfortune and perhaps his inevitable demise, he had instead instantly by applying himself to the oars, had rushed over to Kaimu’s rescue. Halting just ahead, Kaimu was then urged by Zianko to climb aboard.

Despite his dire plight, Kaimu refused to comply and continued swimming in the direction of the shore.

“Don’t be an ass, stubborn old fool!”  Zianko bellowed, throwing him a line with floating object at the end of it. “You are too far from the shore; grab hold!” He then urged, seeing Kaimu’s persistent (stubborn) reluctance.

“Damn it man, there’s a school of sharks headed your way!”  Zianko shouted anew, this time however with definite urgency in his voice, as he’d at the same time pointed to a distant spot.

As Ensa’s face had just then flushed (appeared) in Kaimu’s mind’s eye, Kaimu relented and changing course, same time ignoring Zianko’s cast line, he swam straight for Zianko’s boat. In the nick of time, Kaimu was hauled aboard to safety, escaping hence, the impending jaws of death!

Zianko with deliberate will constrained, stifled his bursting laughter as his narrowed eyes avidly watched Kaimu’s unease now: the way latter dejectedly sat there, all drenched to the very marrow, with chilling, thrashing winds compounding his misery, no doubt squirming inside, looking the sorriest of sights!

In all that time Kaimu had braced himself for the impending ridicule and abuse now that he was in a vulnerable state and a captive audience of his heartless adversary. But far from taking advantage and delighting in latter’s misery and misfortune: in an unexpected turn (unusual move) Zianko instead showed genuine concern for Kaimu’s welfare and even went as far as to supply Kaimu with a warm blanket and a jug of fine wine for inner warmth.

Am I dreaming this? Who’s this man that has come to my aid with such generosity of the heart? Kaimu with askance stared (glared) back at Zianko, musing. Let’s hear it! Don’t prolong the suspense…Why the charade?  What is it you want?

Noting the healthy skepticism in Kaimu’s eyes, Zianko grimaced, and kept up with his solicitous care.

“Why are you being so nice to me? What are you really up to Zianko?” Kaimu finally exploded and asked blatantly in a stern tone, as he declined yet another bout from the jug of wine.

Far from being indignant, Zianko in passive tone offered a brief plausible explanation about his changed behavior and then succinctly (described) recounted the accounts of his terrible, perilous ordeals and his unexpected brush with death at the hands of highwaymen during the last, lengthy absence from home. He reasserted in the end, that upon his chance survival, he’d wowed to mend his ways from then on and if given the opportunity, to reciprocate the kindness he’d received.

“As fate would have it, Kaimu, you are the beneficiary of that oath.” He ejected humbly.

Truly he appeared to be a changed man!

By the time they’d reached the shore, Zianko had succeeded in swaying Kaimu into a state of ease.

Zianko further proposed as goodwill gesture, that Kaimu used his craft from then on, as it remained idle most of the time anyhow, in exchange for moderate portion of Kaimu’s future catches (bounties)- one third to be exact. He declared in all sincerity that this was nothing more than a neighborly gesture on his part; till Kaimu rebounded from his near tragedy and obtained or rebuilt himself another craft. Meanwhile Zianko stood to gain, from this reciprocity, a ready supply of fresh fish without much trouble. What could be better than that?

“Let us bury the old hatched once and for all.” He then proposed magnanimously in a very persuasive tone.

Kaimu pondered for a time in reluctance, disbelieving his ears. Can a man undergo this much change? What about the ulterior motive? There had to be one. What’s worse, he now owed Zianko his life!

“Well, at least think about it neighbor… Give it some thought!” Zianko meanwhile had interjected amicably.

“You needn’t give an answer right away, as I’m not going anywhere for a while.” He shouted after Kaimu, who’d turned and hastened his steps towards home, eager as he’d been to get out of (divest) his soaking garments.

That late afternoon in an emboldened move, Zianko paid a courtesy visit to Kaimu and Ensa carrying a big bundle in his hands filled with rare delicacies. He claimed it to being a peace offering for Ensa.

Despite Ensa’s misgivings, for civility’s sake, Zianko was graciously invited in. Unfortunately, Zianko from that day forth, persistently, by degrees wormed his way into the good graces of Kaimu.

More than once, Ensa had raised the subject of her suspicions and concerns regarding Zianko, to Kaimu. How this accident at sea had resulted in such an opportune circumstance for devious Zianko. But despite Kaimu’s own reserve, he had flatly rejected this notion, claiming that “his craft had been decrepit anyhow, and so, what had happened, had to have been inevitable!” Bound now by his obligation, he’d further argued the point, “that any brush with death could change people, even one as contemptible and vile as Zianko.”

Inwardly Kaimu had the same wish for their prodigal son Yoansu that somehow, wherever he might be, when they see him next that he’d be a transformed man.

As far as Ensa knew, their second son had left them some time ago, not contented to be just a fisherman, in search of better opportunities in the nearby town. Ensa knew, rather held onto firm belief that whether successful or not, their filial son not forsaking them, would one day return home, even if it was to be for a spell.  Now that they had obtained a free wife, she prayed incessantly for her son's speedy return, thinking that the boy could be enticed (with this new addition to their family) to cease his senseless wonderings. She went to bed each consecutive night harboring the fervent desire (aspiration) that the following day would be the day she’ll greet her son at the threshold of their home.

It broke Kaimu’s heart to see the incessant disappointment registering in Ensa’s face at the conclusion of each long and laborious day. Naturally, with certain reserve, he too had shared her hopes, but unlike her, he expected the worse from the boy.

In truth, he’d never really had any faith in Yoansu’s nature or his so-called abilities. All along he’d considered this son weak in moral fiber and disloyal. Kaimu did care for the boy as much as any father would, especially since he was their only surviving offspring now, but love him? That was entirely a different matter and somewhat debatable! Furthermore, it infuriated him the way his wife had always doted on this worthless son. On occasion, when drunken, Kaimu would reveal his true emotions concerning Yoansu.  Lamenting bitterly, he would turn on his absent (prodigal) son and would curse him without reserve for his abrupt departure that so pained Ensa’s heart.  “In future when my strength and stamina fail me, how can I entrust him with the burden of responsibility?  What's the good of having a disloyal son? Without so much as a word, he just packed up and left us, you, his supposed beloved mother, in search of better horizons!  And you still count on such a being? Bah! What will it take for you to accept the fact that we have a heartless deserter for a son?”  He would then turn the full blame for Yoansu’s character on his wife, accusing her of spoiling him and for filling the boy's head with such fanciful ideas. But deep down, even when drunk, he knew the real reason why their son had left them.  He knew that it was him that had driven the boy away.  Yes, he had pushed his son too hard, and allowed him no compassion, no mistakes, or human weaknesses.  When the boy fell in with the bad lot and faced that terrible predicament, as punishment he’d withheld his support, any affection or understanding, not forgiving his son for that betrayal.

 After the tragic loss of their first-born son, Kaimu had also been most reluctant to ever leave his emotions bare or his heart vulnerable. And considering what came to pass between him and his second son; well, he could not rebound so quickly or prevent the ensuing repercussions to his second son. Nevertheless, these past few months, since his accident he’d relaxed some of his rigid, moral standards, and now a transformed man, he’d been willing to let bygones be bygones. He’d grown more flexible, more tolerant in his heart towards his prodigal second son’s obvious failings and character flaws and had inwardly promised to show the latter leniency when or if he returned home. But sadly, Kaimu could not shake the indomitable feeling deep down in his gut that the boy would never, ever amount to anything good.

 If only his elder son had not perished so cruelly at Sea.  His love for him had been, still was, unending, limitless! How tragic, that a single oversight should have cost such a promising boy his life.

 Kaimu still to date blamed himself for his absence on that day. He carried the great burden of guilt with him, which weighed heavily on his conscience and heart.

                                                                                                    ~

No matter how many times a snake sheds its skin, it’s still a snake. Unfortunately, since that day of Kaimu’s near tragedy at sea, to the chagrin of Ensa, Kaimu had increased the frequency of his correspondence with Zianko. The rekindled old relationship resulted in numerous arguments between husband and wife, disturbing the tranquil, placid life of their home. As it were, despite all his efforts, Zianko had miserably failed to win Ensa over. She’d stubbornly firmly had held on to the belief, that one with his vile and, sordid temperament could never ever change (or revert to good). In her view, Zianko was slick as a slimy snake even though nothing unlawful or criminal had thus far (stuck) was lawfully pinned on him; notwithstanding this, that didn’t mean that he was blameless or pristine.  She kept up with her suspicions that beneath that façade of recent uprightness, Zianko must still deal in all manners of illicit acts: forgeries, trafficking in contraband goods - Heaven knows what else?  Furthermore, she’d insisted on still holding Zianko responsible, even in absence of any proof, for her best friend’s murder and prompt disposal of the son Tizan. “Because of Zianko’s licentious nature, his terrible, explosive temper, disloyal heart and brutal nature, he could never boast of having any friends, only likewise associates.” She’d enumerated these failings, and more, to Kaimu on numerous (myriad) occasions, but Kaimu had obstinately ignored it, maintaining, albeit cautiously, liaison with Zianko. Though a good few years of Kaimu’s junior, on a rare occasion when Zianko had been invited to dinner for a home cooked meal, lacking in morals, he’d sneakily (underhandedly) and lustfully leered at this beautiful girl that was to be Kaimu’s daughter-in-law. When Zianko had finally wormed it out of Kaimu, the circumstances of the girl’s acquisition, underneath that mask of goodwill and well wishes, he’d seethed and inwardly coveted their good fortune.  Being an immoral opportunist, his head reeled with vile concoctions, as he saw endless possibilities in possessing such a ravishing beauty.  Only his fear of their son, a serious deterrent, checked his ultimate aim. Nevertheless, each time he frequented Kaimu’s humble abode, while successfully diverting Kaimu’s attention, Zianko had shamelessly let his lustful eyes graze on Jiense’s body. In his head choosing to put aside the only stumbling block, he would then entertain all sorts of vile possibilities as he licked his chops and inwardly asked (raised) the same, repetitive questions. How can I snatch this tender, savory lamb, this ambrosial morsel from Kaimu’s clutches?

 By right, she would fetch him a huge sum. But would the rival gang’s Chieftain Koerak be interested enough to provide (supply) him with apt protection from the anticipated reprisals?  He could always forgo (relinquish) part of the amount and negotiate instead certain provisions: that aside from security, he’d also be permitted from time to time, on favorable monetary terms that is (on discount), to also partake in heavenly pleasures with her in the designated brothel. 

Naturally, at the first opportunity wary Ensa had enumerated Zianko’s blatant indiscretions and his repeated improper leering, to Kaimu.  But this was nothing new to Kaimu, for Kaimu himself on the sly had noted Zianko's riveted gazes affixing on his proposed daughter-in-law. Far from taking offense however, he’d been rather amused and insidiously (underhandedly) had allowed Zianko to wallow in his self-imposed deprivation and envy.

                                                                                    ~

Then came a day when Zianko’s informants told him of the recent set of developments (current sequence of events) and the supposed secret about Kaimu’s son, the “number two boss”.  Zianko could hardly contain his joy, for this fortunate circumstance had now rendered Jiense a free agent (freed up Jiense), therefore eliminating the major hurdle in Zianko’s determined nefarious course.

 

Nevertheless, Zianko halting his solitary reverie- alone in his cabin as usual, daydreaming and talking inwardly- brusquely cautioned himself. I better tread on this carefully, and for the time being at least exercising prudence, simply lay low. Let the expected events unfold; meanwhile, I shall work on Kaimu. I shall first go see Souko and call in the debt he owes me. The fatuous, harebrained scholar owes me big, for getting him out of that last vicissitude (strife)!

When that’s settled, and all the technicalities (details) are worked out, I shall then acquaint Kaimu in one of our drinking sessions, with the particulars of my supposed opulent distant relative… A very distant cousin, whose existence that I’d supposedly only recently became aware of, during my last visit to (furthest) town. I shall give plausible details and accounts that are way above suspicion. For that I shall tell half-truths and artfully (timely) insert into the conversation the boy’s parents’ long-standing desire to wed him. How they are well disposed to doling out generous sums for the dowry, to secure a befitting wife for their sole heir. I shall of course leave out Souko’s perverse secret: his voracious homosexual tendencies. Instead, I shall give reasons of the problem being his discriminating taste, his conceit and arrogance. I could tell Kaimu, I’m in need of a wife too… But no, he would never go for that. And furthermore, his shrewd wife would never consent to it!  Hence, it must be this way. Later, when the opportunity strikes, I’ll discreetly bring up the subject of my distant cousin again. This time around, he would be more inclined (prone) to the idea, you’ll see. Ha, haaa! Zianko in happy anticipation rubbed his hands.

Since Zianko from then on at each visit provided Kaimu with a generous gift of a rare vintage, he in turn, to the chagrin (dismay) of Ensa, was frequently asked to be their guest. 

Perhaps as requisite- Zianko’s life being often in jeopardy- as well, when one factored in the age difference: Zianko surpassed Kaimu’s otherwise sturdy build, stronger constitution and stamina. What’s more damaging however was the fact that Zianko could hold his drink much better than Kaimu and being unscrupulous, often resorted to cheating to outmaneuver Kaimu at mind-games, physical sport- such as arm-wrestling matches- atop various kinds of drinking wagers. But far from being stooped, rebounding quickly at each turn, Kaimu with his uncanny wit, to the chagrin of Zianko, would deny latter the complete satisfaction and score ingenious victories of his own.  The friendly banter kept both on their toes and sharpened their zeal- flourishing each with a healthy dose of respect for the opposition.

 With the cementing of such friendship, Zianko in time grew bold and seemingly more careless with his talk. On an opportune moment one day he henceforth (therefore) spilled the beans, rather, unburdened himself to Kaimu and told latter of the particulars, a dire secret about his supposed nephew Souko.

                                                                                    

                                                                                    ~

END OF SECTION 5

 

(MORE EXCITING SET OF EVENTS WILL UNFOLD IN THE NEXT POST OF FISHERMAN’S PRIZE - SECTION 6)

FISHERMAN'S PRIZE - PART 3

 FISHERMAN'S PRIZE

PART- 3

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

FISHERMAN’S STORY

SECTION 3

 

The (salvaged) girl had fortuitously survived her ordeal and because of several weeks of diligent, patient care, recovered in full. Recognizing these two as her benefactors, the moment that she had regained her strength and was able to, she had bowed to them with deep respect and uttered her name, words of gratitude, as well, promised to repay their kindness in full. Though her foreign language, the strange dialect had not been comprehensible (well understood), her sincere intent nevertheless transcending the barriers was fully communicated. They, in turn, responded with glowing faces, delighted words, and heartfelt, warm embraces, taking her to their bosoms as one of their own.

When the girl’s sunburned, chapped skin completely healed leaving no scar: she was revealed to them as one whose radiance and ravishing beauty rivaled that of Goddesses. Her striking good looks however mattered truly little to these simple, honest folks, with whom any young female would have sufficed and as well appreciated.  A gemstone cast amidst the worthless pebbles on the beach, she received no special recognition for her timeless beauty. In fact, her delicate poise, far from receiving admiration or special regard, gave them pause for concern (and added worry). As a result, they attempted to toughen her constitution up and they forced on her extra rations and arduous work.

  From the beginning, since they’d found it most difficult to pronounce or remember her real name, they chose another name for her in its stead.  They adapted the name Jiense, most common one in use in these parts and one most favored by the local fishermen, for their wives or female children, for it meant “Pearl of the Sea”.

In the ensuing days, the girl’s different vocabulary naturally presented some unavoidably awkward, cumbersome moments. Kaimu seeing the need charged Ensa with the added responsibility of educating the girl with Wenjenkun’s own vernacular. Despite all good intentions, however, pressing workload and daily chores had often hindered progress. The negligible communication gap meanwhile had been bridged by more effective, readily available sign language.

Needless to say, Kaimu and Ensa in all this time had taken every precaution to conceal Jiense’s presence from the unwanted, intrusive eyes of lawbreakers, racketeers that might be frequenting the region. Fortunately, as well, their nearest neighbor Zianko, one who had a questionable character, had been absent from his home for several months now; as Ensa suspected, undoubtedly engaged in yet another illicit plunder!

Over time, the absence of any formal or informal inquiry eased both Kaimu and Ensa’s trepidation. Having taken a genuine liking to this gentle soul from the start, Ensa gave no further thought to the girl’s leaving them, and to the delight of Kaimu, from then on began considering the precious thing in her heart and mind, as her very own future daughter-in-law.

On Kaimu’s part, by keeping in check his uncouth nature, he had learned to be gentler in speech, exercise patience and tolerance. So as not to scare off Jiense, he constrained his ill temper even when things did not go well; meanwhile avoiding any direct dealings with Jiense and leaving the job of molding her to their way of thinking, entirely to his wife's ability. As a result, Jiense encountered no ill effects or adverse experiences with Kaimu.

  As she had remained ignorant of her true whereabouts, and at the same time felt obligated to stay with these generous, decent folks to repay their kindness, Jiense for the time being at least, had postponed any notion of departure (leaving them).  She had no way of knowing of course that the spare room she stayed in, the room belonging to their son Yoansu, had been already pegged, designated as her future nuptial room. As she was sweet natured and easygoing, before long she had even gotten used to the coarse furnishings and the sorry absence of any decoration about.  The few belongings that had been left behind by the son had of course been secured in a locked, cumbersome wood chest in the far corner of the room. 

In addition to helping Ensa with her daily chores Jiense also learned a few other helpful skills, like mending the torn nets, weaving straw baskets or mats for additional funds, or added use. By now she could start a fire and cook meals their way, using the most primitive means that was available to her in this small dwelling. Her delicate hands under the strain of work broke in calluses, and her tender skin often bled from the cuts caused by the coarse materials she managed. The menial, demeaning jobs, ones that in the past would have been shunned by her lowliest servant were nonetheless completed by her nimbly and with no outward show of discontent. After the grueling day’s work, each night Jiense collapsed on her coarse bed and slept soundly without dreams or nightmares in exhausted state. She was driven hard, but remained contented for she received ample love, appreciation, and compassion.

 

And so, in this way two or three months had quickly passed.

                                                         

At this forlorn corner climate being particularly harsh, spring’s arrival had always been late in coming. It was yet another particularly chilling overcast night. Howling winds had kept up their tyranny all day long and now continued well into the night without any let up. The half-crescent moon periodically peeked, as the ominous cumulus clouds raced across the night’s sky.

In this god-forsaken night, three mounted riders galloped the barren stretch of land, fearful lest they’d be detected. Reaching Zianko’s dwelling, they abruptly came to a halt and dismounted. As the moon had gone in prolonged hiding, in that pitch darkness where visibility was almost nil (zero) except for the flash of sheet lightening within clouds that periodically (intermittently) illuminated the ground: the nocturnal animals had witnessed nervous horses drenched in sweat, being quickly tethered to the side. Two of the men busied themselves with the fastened cargo, whilst the third one pulled down from the horse’s back an abstract bundle concealing the bound and gagged figure of a man, and with some difficulty carried his heavy load inside the house. The windows had already been bolted shut with heavy shutters, discouraging any light or illegal entry. A small candle was quickly lit to effort them scant visibility. The stout fellow with the distinguishing mustache who appeared to be in charge, after peeking from the adjusted slats of the shutters turned to address Zianko.

“What about that cabin, your nearest neighbor- are you sure it will be all right? Shouldn’t we take the precautionary measure of disposing them?”

“It’s not necessary as it’s beyond the hearing range. And besides, do you know who dwells in that seemingly vulnerable, dilapidated cabin?” Zianko responded haughtily, with a smirk.

“Who?” The other’s curiosity was aroused.

“The parents of number 2 boss of the notorious “Ravens Gang”.

“You don’t say?” The other two men in one voice, aghast, came forward to ask.

“No kidding!” Zianko smirked.

“But the whole place is so rundown!”

“Go figure!” Zianko smiled wryly, and took in a breath, prolonging their suspense, before extrapolating. (Offering added explanation.)

“Kaimu, number two boss’s father, is a stubborn old coot. His wife Ensa is worse! She is a pious hag who insists on upholding morality and living with integrity. They would have been a ripe picking for any criminal and fallen prey a long, long time ago had it not been for this connection. But want a laugh? The old folks are ignorant of their son’s power and prestige.” He laughed.

“That must be convenient.” One of them interjected.

Zianko disinterestedly shrugged. “I’ve had no dealings with them since my wife died.”

“You mean murdered.”  The youngest one of the bunches snickered (countered). “Whatever.” Zianko winked at the other two. “Ensa is a shrew that controls that old man. Anyhow, back then, she insisted on exposing me; persisted in her bizarre hypothesis that I had something to do with my wife’s murder. A raw erupted and we have not been on speaking terms since.”

“Never mind about that,” Just then the fellow with a mustache coming away from the window interjected. “We haven’t got time for idle gossip.” Then turning to squarely face Zianko, in a stern voice added: “Now you know what is expected of you. Nevertheless, till you hear a definite word from us, I want you to lay off him.” With his chin he indicated the bound, drugged unconscious stout official that had been dumped at the far corner of the room. “Just in case things go array or more proof of a body part is needed. Meanwhile, I caution you to stay well out of sight. If she is as inquisitive as you claim, she may bring unwarranted trouble to us. Opportunists are everywhere. The abduction has already caused quite a stir. Hence, not a soul must be wizened to the whereabouts of this fiend! Have I made myself clear?”

“Great, now I’m a babysitter.” Zianko grumbled.

“You’ll be well compensated for your services.” The leader frowned. “If you blow it however, you shall suffer far worse consequences then him.”

“I don’t respond well to threats!” Zianko’s face, pitted against the leaders, flushed bead red in anger. But then relenting, he held his temper in check and turning, he asked instead.

“Am I expected to feed him too?”

“Do as you like.”  The leader scowled. “His fate would be the same either way.”

“Hungry corpse would be easier to dispose of after all.” Zianko grumbled under his breath, then turning to face the other two, asked: “Now can one of you help me carry him to the cellar before you go?”

Not waiting for their answer however, he pushed aside the table and rolled back the square rattan floor covering to reveal a trap door underneath. He grasped hold of the round ring of the heavy trap door and with a heave, lifted it open. Instantly a pungent, foul smell escaping from the (pitched dark) cellar assailed their noses. 

“Phew!”  They averted their faces, scrunching their features with utter disdain.

“What’s down there, dead rats?” The youngest one pointing complained.

“Human corpses smell the same.” Zianko, the only one who wasn’t at all disturbed by the smell, indifferently shrugged. He picked up the lit candle and descended the steps quickly to clear away some clutter and to arrange for an adequate space.

When he again resurfaced, a designated volunteer helped him to deliver the unconscious hostage to the prepared spot. Zianko using strong ropes now fastened the stout official securely to the pole.

“Unfortunately, since your leader wants him alive for the time being, I have to keep this latch door open for a crack, otherwise he would suffocate.” He then grunted, as he came up. “That would be a bother.”

The leader had had enough of Zianko’s smugness.

“We’ve dallied here long enough!” He barked and walked towards the door. But before exiting, he half turned to say. “You should be hearing from us (a word) in four- or five-day’s time.”

                                                                                  ~

 

Ensuing days, quite unaware of the sinister goings on in Zianko’s residence- for as far as they were concerned Zianko was still far away (absent) - hard working Kaimu, Ensa and Jiense lived out their invariable mundane lives in equable peace and tranquility.

 

All this time, however, Zianko had been insufferably sequestered inside (confined indoors) and from daybreak to dusk he had to remain perfectly still and stationary (quiet and immobile). At latter part of the night when it was opportune to do so, covert beehive of activity always reached a crescendo. For Zianko could then light up the stove, cook and drink; he was at liberty to engage in numerous vile acts and torment his captive, or on occasion, walk about aimlessly under the cover of darkness outside. After an elapse of only three days the constrained lifestyle, however, had begun to take its toll on him. To while away (pass) the dreary daylight hours, Zianko therefore had more than once, peeped through a spy hole, hoping to see something extraordinary, in order to dispel his mounting irritation and to divert his boredom.  It was then that he spotted a third figure, a stranger milling about Kaimu’s residence. With his excellent vision (eyesight), he could discern the stranger’s exquisite facial features, the long flowing hair, and despite the plain attire, the petite (slender) shapely form of a tender youth, that gradually surmounted (piqued) Zianko’s interest.

Now about eight years Kaimu’s junior, Zianko had only been married once. And that had been to a young widower, with a young son named Tizan- who was the product from her previous marriage.

As she had been from an opulent family, somewhat fair in looks and well-endowed with feminine charms (parts), she would have gone on satisfying Zianko’s discriminating taste or needs for a good many years. But in just three years, the matrimonial bliss had come to an abrupt and violent end, not too long after she had struck up a close friendship with Ensa. 

To date, Zianko blamed Ensa for spinning (putting) those contemptible notions into his wife’s head.

Like the idea, of it being both moral and lawful, to pass the inheritance of her former late husband’s property to his bloodline, his only offspring!

In time the rift between Zianko and his wife had widened to an irreparable point (measure), as Zianko had been prevented from getting his grasping hands on the rest, the bulk of her estate. What is more, her former husband’s begotten family, and then reeled into this mess, had exercised their supposed rights, through bribery, to siphon away a good chunk of it.

Was I supposed to idly stand by and see it all disappear? If not for the meddling of Ensa, I would have had a free reign with it all! Zianko, while spying on the stranger, had once more become lost in angry revere.

 As he saw it, it was therefore all Ensa’s fault that he had to act fast and get rid of his increasingly difficult and uncooperative wife and stepson.

Indeed, timing being of the essence, before the boy had reached the age of ascent, a month or two before Tizan was to become twelve, Zianko had used every available means to secure, in his view, “what should have been rightfully his!”

Zianko had always, through such logic, rationalized his numerous brutal acts (deeds). This case being no different, his only regret had been- the eventual failure of the permanent disposal of the boy, who was an eyewitness to (of) his foul deed.

“How he hated loose ends! But the brat had been both agile and cunning!”

Incredibly, Tizan had successfully averted the virulent potions, the malignant food, and the pernicious traps; what’s more, persevering through prodigious (ghastly) physical and mental torments during his incarceration, had made good his escape.

“To date it boggles my mind,” Zianko with a frown, inwardly confessed. “The ingenious way the dastardly rat sprung himself from that cadaverous trap!”

It had taken Zianko many wasted years before he could relax his vigil and have the boy legally declared dead. It was after all, not an uncommon occurrence in these parts, for a man or a runaway boy in this case, having been at large, ultimately falling a pray to some predatory beasts or bandits.

Most of the wildlife at the edge of the foothills had been hunted down by then, but on occasion; some wild beast would still descend from the heights, in search of food.

One thing was for certain; the boy had never made it to the nearby town. And no one had ever heard or seen him since!

 

   (CONTINUES ON NEXT POST- PART 4)

 

 

FISHERMAN'S PRIZE (PART 1 )

 

FISHERMAN’S PRIZE

 

Part 1

 

 From the beginning of time the incessant northern storms had violently swept across the Sea of Kontu crashing against the sheer cliffs of Wenjenkun with tempestuous fury to permanently mar or mold crazed abstract forms on this already scarred, irredeemable land.  With fair days few and far between on this inhospitable strand, incredibly, a small number of persistent, stalwart fishermen still managed to eke out a meager subsistence from the unforgiving, turbulent sea.

 

                                                                          ~

              

Most recent of these storms, lasting in intensity without wane four or five days, had been so severe that only now, when it had barely subsided, the bravest, the most stubborn or the most desperate of men, would have dared venture into it.

It so happens that one such fisherman named Kaimu, in defiance of all reason, cursing the elements, at the crack of dawn had set his small craft out to sea. He’d reassured himself that he was on the whole in excellent physical health and though middle-aged (in his late 40’s) he was still agile enough and possessed great stamina/strength to meet any impending challenges that would be mated out to him by the exacting “Mother Nature”.  Now ordinarily, he too would have paid heed to nature’s dire warnings: after all, the overhead sky was still riddled with ominous, flotilla of (billowing) clouds! This aspect among others had deterred his fellow fishermen from the perilous enterprise. But as ill-luck would have it, resultant of his cursed land-born accident that had inevitably incapacitated him for a time- his patience and their meager life provisions had been reduced to nil.

      Nor could he stomach one more accursed, infernal root- for the supposed, medicinal sustenance!

A proud man, he’d never be caught dead opining, let alone receiving a handout from his closest neighbor; nevertheless, he had his wife Ensa to consider. In the last couple of days it had pained him to see her put through such hardships. Though she’d never once complained, now that he had his mobility back, nothing short of death would deter him from his resolve. 

Besides, having spent his entire existence, rather subsistence, at this desolate (forlorn, dismal) corner, he’d always had this strange love and hate relationship with the Sea. From childhood, fishing had been in his life’s blood. Now, as he charted alone, the precarious course, the fickle sea foaming at the mouth, sprayed his face in tauntingly in greeting- as at the same time the towering, churning waves embraced and somewhat gyrated his seemingly toy craft off its heading (mark).  Undaunted, he steered hard to remain on the intended bearing; but sporadically still, (every now and then) his boat would be helplessly tossed about and whirled (reeled) as if caught in the whims of an impetuous, harlot.

Tempestuous wench, I dare you to do your worst…You owe me, and I mean to reclaim my right!  He clenched his jaw in defiance with certain determination, mindful of the dangers abound, with every fiber of his being now poised to tackle the unexpected. Despite his layered clothing however, a shiver passed through him as the bitter cold mercilessly seeped into his lungs with every intake of breath. Sudden gusting, biting winds rising in intensity meanwhile buffeted his sleeves and admonishingly trashed his already etched sculptured features, making him squint.

Would this blasted weather ever subside (let up)?

Apart from his physical exertion, he was also quietly disconcerted deep down in his heart, to see so much wooden debris floating about on the surface water.  Far more than usual, far more than he’d anticipated. All evidence pointed to (foretold of) a vessel or vessels’ calamity; hence, loss of myriad lives!  Many torn pieces of flesh and bones would be fishmeal, but infinite number of identifiable human parts or corpses would also be washed ashore. Subsequently wild dogs or birds would feast on them.

He dreaded such gruesome reminders of man’s vulnerability!

Shoreline barely visible now, at a deemed favorable spot, he dropped anchor. Steadying himself, he was about to cast his sturdy net over the sea (floor) when just then his keen eyesight espied (spotted) an intact floating figure at some distance.

Rubbing his eyes he focused his attention on the partially submerged object that lay beneath the unconscious, seemingly lifeless human. His clear vision partially obscured by the bobbing waves, Kaimu could but barely discern the thick ropes that fastened the castoff- therefore keeping him afloat- on a large, sturdy piece of dark wood.

Hmm! Looks to me a valuable commodity, a door perhaps, or a chest?   A hopeful light shone in his eyes, despite the odds stacked against of it being so. Then again, why should he bother; besides, the person could have already expired… dead as a doornail he would be from exposure to cold!

Kaimu in quandary gnawed at his lower lip as he same time thoughtfully stroked his chin.  Just then however the situation took on an urgent turn when he glimpsed (detected, pinpointed) large school of sharks over yonder headed straight for the castaway.

 

 “Not if I can help it!” Without hesitation, on the perchance the poor soul was still alive, he quickly aborted his earlier aim of casting the net. With incredible agility and strength, he first hauled the anchor up, and then raced his craft (vessel) straight (into) towards certain peril in order to rescue that poor unfortunate being. Having reached the spot, he, with the use of his sharp dagger quickly released the bonds and hauled the unconscious body up on board- just in the nick of time too! Sharks having missed their mark, circled the boat with certain frenzy, some irately bumping it, then just as swiftly they swerved and swam away towards yet another opportunity.  With the passing of this certain danger, Kaimu grinned elatedly. 

On second thought, forsaking the idea of salvaging the ‘adrift-wood-piece’, he now turned his attention back on the rescued being. Squatting, he carefully checked for the vital signs. The face was ghostly white (devoid of any color) but the body was nonetheless warm. The pulse although faint, was still there.  There were some bruises and cuts, some bleeding, but nothing serious.  Aha…. Hahn!

“What’s this, a woman?”  He was suddenly taken back and so abruptly yanked (jerked, pulled) his hand away.

It’s most puzzling, indeed? His suspicious, scrutinizing gaze affixed on the unconscious being, he absentmindedly scratched his forehead; for plainly enough, the drenched, rather prosperous attire was that of male’s. 

Hmm, what probable mischief was at play here… Could she be an escapee, a run-away?

When just then she made a faint whimpering sound and stirred, Oh who cares, at least she’s alive! Kaimu elatedly shrugged, having received added confirmation that at least his expansive efforts had not been in vain after all. As she seemed to be laboring for breath however, he now gently turned her on to her side and patted (pounded) her back. Pat, pat, pat…

She coughed, pinkish hue brushed her lovely cheeks and her lips parting, she spewed (ejected, disgorged) some seawater.  The eyelids fluttered, opened just a crack but then she, once more going ghostly pale, passed out cold. Kaimu knew all too well, the signs of shock and what the subsequent requirement would entail.  Cold as he was, without moment’s hesitation he took off his dry outer jacket, and as she was petite in frame, pretty much wrapped her whole body in it. Deferring his plans to fish until later, he then quickly applied himself to the oars (rowed) and swiftly steered his small craft back to the shore. His feet trod quickly on the wet, slippery path as he with ease carried her in his arms to his meager dwelling.

“Look what the sea has given us!”  Kicking the door wide open with his left foot, he barged right in leaving muddy footprints on the clean floor, and laid her on the cot.  “I shall leave her to your competent care.”  As he said this, he’d also quickly retrieved (reclaimed) his coat and put it back on. Then without sparing another moment for a response or an explanation to Ensa’s barrage of questions, he turned right around (on his heels) and darted out.

She’d nimbly rushed after him to outside and persisted with her loud inquiries. But there was so little time for him to waste; the weather could take a turn for the worse at any moment! Hence, ignoring his wife’s entreaties, his back still turned to her he raised his right hand up high in the air and waved a dismissive goodbye. Just like a woman! Exhaling an impatient huff, he shook his head as he quickly retraced his steps back to his boat. After returning to the proximity of the earlier spot, he then dropped anchor and cast his homemade net into the sea.