LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE CAPITAL CHANNING – SECTION 9 

 Nevetsecnuac, having decided to meet Zaur halfway then, more clearly proceeded to solicit (request) Zaur Stugr's help, "If it would not be too much of an imposition (trouble) Minister Stugr, perhaps you could entrust it to the proper authorities so that, in keeping with my promise to Yakkasar, it may be returned to the pit in question.  I would be most appreciative if you would inform me also of the further developments, especially ones leading to resolving this rather intriguing (fascinating) mystery."

Expressing moderate curiosity, Zaur Stugr graciously accepted the task of handling this trivial matter at his earliest convenience. 

01 ZAUR STUGR JP 12

"And perhaps there may be other historical artifacts that would be of importance, warranting excavation at the site." he smiled mischievously. Then as if in an afterthought, Zaur gravely added, "Of course this province is riddled with many such graves and pits of varying sizes, containing skeletons, corpses of indicted dissidents, cadaver of convicts and traitors, whom all of course, richly deserved their ill fate.”

“In any case best to be prudent, with this investigation and in enlisting help. Then there is the requirement for a permit, which I must attain, from the works department. But I may need more data…”   He abruptly looked up at Fradel.

After a seeming hesitancy and purposeful pause, proclaiming that he needed this in case the authorities questioned him on it, Zaur urged Fradel Rurik Korvald to jog his memory about the specifics of the topography or any other identifying landmarks in the vicinity of the pass which may assist in quicker resolve or at least, an educated guess as to its location.

Fradel agreed to this, with a lowered head, pretended to be lost in deep thought for a time, presumably jogging his memory.

 Zaur (with a puckered brow) grimacing, studied Fradel for a moment; then with an affable tone, introduced a suggestion. "This may help; from the details you've offered already, I've deduced that it could be Kneco, Cyprecox, or Yeruz Pass."

Nevetsecnuac pretending to have just then recollected some pertinent facts, cried out, " Yes, that's it, the very one. I remember now.  It was the Cyprecox Pass that Yakkasar was headed for.  Though he did refer to Kneco Pass, it was at a different time and in an entirely unrelated context."

"Now you're quite certain about this?" Zaur studied Fradel with concealed anxiety.

"Quite certain," Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) reaffirmed then, pretending that he'd remembered more of what Yakkasar had told him, readily volunteered (furnished) more specifics (details) regarding the location, much to Zaur's satisfaction.

"Well, this night's conversation has been quite dynamic and rather fruitful (productive).  Thank you for presenting me with this most intriguing opportunity; I'll do all that I can to resolve this mystery for you." Zaur Stugr promised earnestly, quickly dismissing Fradel’s uttered, profuse gratitude.

Smiling affably, he then begged Fradel's indulgence and patience, cautioning the scholar not to get his hopes up too high, for the truth once uncovered, might not be as enriching or colorful as supposed (or imagined).

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) politely yawned to express his fatigue, and then quickly proposed (suggested) that they should retire for the night.

Finding this most agreeable, Zaur signaled for the servant in attendance, to have the repast be cleared soon as they left; after which he solicitously (ushered) escorted Fradel to his sleeping quarters, before retiring himself to his own suite.

                                                                                               ~

Short time later, when all were tucked and happily sleeping under their warm quilts, Zaur Stugr quietly rose from his bed and going over, retrieved a small flagon (flask) he kept in the second drawer of the night table. Removing the seal, he gulped (ingested), enough of the special tonic, which quickly (in a short span) deleted the ill effects of excessive drinking and restored one’s full faculties.  Zaur next, taking special care not to wake any of his personal servants, washed his face, swiftly changed his clothes and quietly snuck outside.

02- ZAUR STUGR

Though Nevetsecnuac's speculation had come exceedingly close to the truth, he could not have imagined the depth of gravity that this key had held for Zaur Stugr.

Zaur, very much sobered now by his pumping adrenaline, held out a small oil lamp before him to illuminate the way, as he hastily proceeded with determined steps through a maze of hallways and garden paths.  Eventually he arrived at the old study on the far side of the East wing.

The wing had been sealed off ever since Kokone Iver, the previous owner's beloved third concubine committed suicide after being sexually assaulted (violated, raped) by one of, Rujune Iver’s esteemed house guests.  The strange gruesome apparition who had persistently haunted (appeared in) the hallways after her tragic demise, was attributed to her restless, unavenged spirit.

The perpetrator guest rapist, called Lord Nirekel Konuer, had at the time been far too powerful and too well connected to the higher officials; and so, despite Rujune Iver's efforts to bring him to justice, he had escaped punishment.

The subsequent grave rift that had existed as consequence, between Rujune Iver and Lord Nirekel Konuer, had outlasted the culprit Nirekel’s eventual horrific demise from a mysterious, sudden ailment.

 The hostility between the Konuer and Iver Clans had in due course, fostered some violent repercussions; especially since, the rumors concerning Rujune’s visits to a famous shaman in the workers' quarters, and this having something to do with Lord Nirekel’s sudden, macabre death, had persisted for many a year. And despite the absence of any solid evidence, the incidences of savage retributions, the bloodshed continued (to rock the Capital) for quite some length of time to eventually die down. 

But not before Rujune Iver, having been persecuted unmercifully by Lord Nirekel Konuer's ardent cliques, had eventually lost the favor he had at court and, having been subsequently charged with treason, suffered the extreme death penalty.  Unfortunately, this had meant the extinction of his entire clan, including his wife and concubines as well as, all the family's property (estate) being confiscated by the state.  Yet, because of the purported haunting of the East wing, this otherwise exceptional mansion in the heart of the Capital had remained unsold and untenanted (vacant).

Zaur was only a minor official but one with promising future at that time and had just been transferred to a more lucrative posting in the Capital.  Not being superstitious in the least and assured that no senior official wanted the property, he was quick to seize this opportunity and procure Rujune Iver’s magnificent mansion for an affordable price.  Seeing that it was to his advantage to continue, the purported belief in the haunting Zaur gave outward credence to the stories and sealed off the East wing, declaring it off limits to everyone and all his staff.

03-GHOST Kokone Iver  IN THE EAST WING

Then covertly engaging trusted workmen, he had a secret tunnel constructed directly into the unused wing from a niche in the outer wall.  Zaur Stugr’s planning and vigilance had paid off and, unknown to his family and staff, he henceforth had conducted all clandestine matters on these premises.

For over five years now, with none the wiser to the comings and goings, he had been able to establish a vast underground web of alliance and intrigue that had escaped all detection.  This was no small feat for the Sovereign possessed an elite and very effective Secret Police (as well as, the ruthless Black Band Guard Regiment) in addition to the rival spy networks established by Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and Minister of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries (also affiliated with The Black Molochs).

Halting before a tall, green door Minister Zaur Stugr thumbed the keys at his belt and, finding the right one, inhaled deeply to steady him-self before he turned it in the lock.  Lifting the latch, he opened the door softly.  Only the rush of air leaving the room disturbed the quiet of the night.  Stepping inside, his eyes briefly perused the rare antiquities that adorned the shelves, the countless valuable scrolls that were housed in specially constructed wall units that took up two walls all on their own, the plush sofa off in the corner and the desk with its neat pile of documents awaiting his decisions.  Things were exactly as he had left them.  Reassured, he turned and bolted the door behind him. He walked over the desk and opening the top drawer took out the certain (booby trapped) letter his agent Kaelan had delivered to him a week before Fradel Rurik Korvald’s arrival.

He’d been so burdened (engaged) playing host to illustrious scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald in addition to his other Ministerial duties that he had deferred this matter till later time. In truth he was still undecided about what to do about the letter (whom his agent had retrieved from the dead body of the doomed courier Disaidun Agripe otherwise known as Miss Jepipi), which had been the source of Lord Shouzi Yozdek’s blackmail for about two years by The Black Molochs.

Zaur could not help smiling, knowing how infuriated Egil Viggoaries must have been, when word reached him that the letter had been lost to him.  How many must have suffered consequently.

“Unfortunately, the plan had not gone as well as he’d anticipated; for Zunrogo Tugo was still alive and well… Hmm, the cur must have found out about the switch and kept it quiet. “

“Oh well you can’t win them all.”  Zaur shrugged.

“As for the letter…” Zaur shook his head. “It can wait.”  Unfortunately, at present he was too pressed for time to deal with this, when other more pressing matters (issues) and tasks demanded his attention first; and so, he quickly put it back in the top drawer and closed it.

Advancing with deliberate strides, he veered around the long, ornate desk until he reached a specific wall unit on the far wall.

 Holding up the oil lamp, he pulled out one specific scroll and placed it on the desk.  Then, putting his hand into the slot from which he had retrieved the document, he applied a firm pressure with his index finger to a groove in the lower left corner of the exposed wall.  Immediately the entire wall slid noiselessly aside to expose a hidden room behind.

Air tinged with musk rushed out at once to assail his nostrils as pitch darkness greeted his eyes.  Crinkling up his nose, Zaur shook his head.  He had not been in this room for some time and due to obvious neglect, everything was shrouded in an inch deep snow of dust that now whirled about, stirred by the air from the outer study.

“First thing tomorrow I must have Zyerne clean this place up.  This disorder is inexcusable.”

For now, the space was in immediate need of ventilation.  He looked around in the lamplight at the mass of volumes packed up all the walls until he spied on one small window high up next to the ceiling, hidden from the outside by a set of elaborate eaves.

 Striding over, he positioned a sturdy chair beneath the aperture and pried the shutter open just a crack, just enough to let in the fresh air he needed to relieve his lungs of this (ever-present) invasive constriction.  He winced as he reflected how this hidden room had been designed by the long dead original architect more like a vault of an elaborate tomb than a study.  Its purpose had been obvious but, incredibly, Rujune Iver’s demise had come too fast for him to have made use of its contents to his own advantage.  Fortunately for Zaur, these carefully catalogued documents, containing amassed evidence against the most prominent (noble, patrician) aristocratic families and the vast reserve of valuables and cash secreted in this room, had escaped detection by the court's investigators when the property had been confiscated (impounded) by the state.  With his analytical mind, keen sense, and deductive reasoning, Zaur Stugr had been the only one to, shortly after acquiring the property; discover this invaluable chamber's existence.

Stepping down, he walked back to the entrance.  From there he took the familiar measured paces, first straight ahead, then to the left, and then to the right then again left.

About five years ago, he had further discovered several vaults, each laden with cache (stockpiles, hoards) of gold, silver, and jewels, beneath the ingeniously designed, geometric marble- flooring. 

Depending on the combination of serious of consecutive (successive) steps and the pressure put on by one’s own weight, the specific squire floor tile would rise and then move aside to reveal an opening with the descending stairs leading to that specific vault’s contents. 

Right now, however, he was only after one of his own constructions.

Squatting, he placed the lamp off to one side, loosened the specific floor tile with his bare hands, lifted it and dug out a slightly tarnished metal box from its hiding place.  Meticulously, he brushed the dust from it then, with trembling hands, positioned his newly acquired bejeweled key over the keyhole on the box's side.

Suddenly his heart was seized with apprehension.  “What if this key's construction was merely a bizarre coincidence?  What if it did not match this box at all?” 

In the past he had attempted everything he could think of to open this unyielding encasement but without the least bit of success.  The unusual metal, the design and construction of the box had resisted any attempt at tampering with it. 

He exhaled, “Well, there's only one way to find out.”

With certain determination he placed the key into the hole, and, to his great elation, it turned, moving long unused tumblers inside the locking mechanism.  His heart pounded wildly.  At long last it was now within his means to uncover the secret long buried within! 

But then he hesitated, and his expression gradually hardened to mirror his troubled thoughts.

“What if now, after all this time…,” dejectedly he shook his head. 

“Anyhow, what good would it do?”  In his mind's eye he could see the accusing finger stubbornly pointed at him and at the same time a strong sense of foreboding gripped his heart.

“No!  Right or wrong, I could not have confided in Sanzo.  Not after the disclaimer.”

Eventually he picked up the lamp and, rising to his feet once more with the box in his other hand, walked over and sat down (sunk his body) on the plush sofa by the desk.  Absently he stared at the box for some time, affectionately caressing it, letting his fingers trace out the curved indentations which mimicked exactly the design of the key.  He noted how, in one corner they were scaled exactly to the size of the key. “Odd,” he mused, “it’s as if there's a purpose to it.”

 Struck by a sudden intuition, he took the key from the lock and placed it sideways on against the corner, noting how it fit snugly into the carved design.  Inside the box more tumblers moved.

“So, there was a disarming mechanism as well.”  Zaur Stugr was glad he had not rushed to open the obvious booby-trapped box.

A sad, aggrieved (wounded, pained, hurt) expression just then took hold of his features.

“It’s been so long, so very long!”

(END OF SECTION 9) 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 36

 

"Good girl!"  Zunrogo exclaimed in pleasure as he noted the mountain of bodies piled up before the still standing barricade.  The few who still showed signs of life were quickly disposed of then moved aside to clear a path to the blockage.

Disaidun Agripe (Ms. Jepipi) had been as good as her word, more than several dozen lives had been snuffed out by her excellent marksmanship; however, her lack of response to Zunrogo's call at present gave rise to silent speculation.

“Maybe she’s already done me the favor.” Zunrogo mused.

 

01- ZUNROGO TUGO- JP  19

Zunrogo glancing at the heaps of dead men, suddenly however noticed, another irregularity. Many more of the assailants had been cut down by a sword. These mangled and hacked down men were attacked by an expert swordsman or swordsmen.

“Oh, no!” A sudden alarm gripped Zunrogo’s heart, and he shouted at Tizan to help him clear the way quickly, for he needed to get to Disaidun at once.  Soon as they had a viable path (gap,), Zunrogo swiftly advanced through the narrow strip, while Tizan up ahead, continued diligently to widen the course.  Once through to the other side, Zunrogo knelt beside unresponsive Disaidun Agripe who sat with her head and back (leaned) slumped against the wall and quickly checked her pulse.  He was not entirely concerned about the state of her condition; however, first and foremost, he needed to know if the letter was still there. He shook his head to purge slight reminiscences of his last intimate encounter with her, then fixing his attention on the part of her bodice where she had concealed the letter, his hand quickly reached beneath, to promptly retrieve it and secured it underneath his armor.

Tizan’s curious, though somewhat licentious (profligate, wicked) gaze was met by the captain’s hardhearted and cruel smirk. Tizan swiftly turned his slightly reddened face away to conceal (hide) his dubious and racy thoughts.  “So, the captain’s prior, impious relation with her, his supposed foible, carried the purpose other than carnal (sensual) indulgence (desire, need).  As there is no room for mistakes in this detachment, I should have been more astute.”  

 

Zunrogo meanwhile, was beset with some unsettling facts that had suddenly invaded his brain and needed clarification. “Decidedly she’d been overwhelmed from behind; was this carnage result of the suspected, but never uncovered, covert Black Moloch infiltrator on board? Was he still on board; for clearly, he hadn’t retrieved what he must have been assigned to do? What scared him off? Later, in private and away from Tzan’s prying eyes, he must examine the letter more (closely) carefully. “

Zunrogo’s quiet reflections suddenly ceased (halted, stayed), when she slightly stirred and at the same time, a faint groan emanated from her throat. Though her pulse was faint and her breathing shallow, a brief scrutiny revealed that she had sustained grave injuries to her head, her shoulder and left arm, as well deep cuts and scrapes here and there; therefore, as much as he’d liked to, Zunrogo could not bring her around to a sensible state, to inquisition her. True enough, she was at death’s door; however, even if she lasted long enough, still, it would take no small miracle for her to regain her faculties and in her poor state, even if she’d regained consciousness, she would still not be cognitive enough to satisfactorily answer his imminent queries, luxury of time he did not have.

For a second Zunrogo’s suspicions fell on Tzan.  “No,” He quickly dismissed that thought. Tzan had fought valiantly by his side and besides, wasn’t Tzan totally passed out, unconscious when Zunrogo regained consciousness.

Tzan had all this time, with his back to Zunrogo, continued with his dismantling the barricade.

As he labored Tzan grimaced coldly.  “Wonder what it was he took from her? …. Still, in all these years under his command, never once have I seen him do anything without a sinister reason or an underlying dark motive.  I wonder what’s really at stake here?”

 

02- 11-TZAN JP

Proceeding with methodical efficiency, Tzan had, in no time at all, disengaged (severed, disarmed) remaining, pertinent, lethal traps and cleared away the key barriers.  The rest Tzan was told, could later be safely handled by the crew, after they are released from their locked cabins.  This measure of keeping the crew safe had been deemed necessary, for they were essential in manning the vessel of this size.

 

 Tzan was about to go upstairs to first, finish disposing of the corpses into the river, when he was just then called to Zunrogo’ side. 

"She's not dead." the captain announced coldly, indicating Disaidun Agripe (Ms. Jepipi).

 "Take her body to her cabin and let her husband deal with her last-minute rites.”

Tzan, leaning over her warm body, understood her grave state of health at once and looked at askance (sideways, suspiciously) at Zunrogo.  “He is not known for showing least amount of mercy to anyone who’s outlived their usefulness; unless… she still has some benefit (consequence) to be utilized… hmm?”  But Tzan shifted his body with unease as he was once more mired (puzzled, stumped) by Zunrogo’s enigmatic mind, unable to phantom the captain’s decidedly sinister, future objective.

Only few hours prior, she’d been so full of life; now she was barely alive, what further use was she to Zunrogo?  Tzan could not help feeling a small measure of sadness for her short-lived ecstasy.  Zunrogo, contrastingly, with not a shred of sympathy or remorse, was already headed down the hall.

 

The time it took for Tzan to pick up the pliant body of Disaidun Agripe, Zunrogo was fast unlocking the scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald's door. Fradel emerged just in time to see Tzan, with her limp, broken body draped over his shoulder, going down the hall towards her cabin.

The scholar's inquisitive (questioning) gaze constrained Zunrogo to give a brief account of her involvement in the struggle: how she, being an accomplished archer, had offered her services and how, despite his own reservations, he had engaged (utilized) her abilities to safeguard the rest of the passengers, including Fradel.  He curtly (briskly) praised Disaidun Agripe’s courage and skill, noting how she had claimed few dozen lives before she, herself, had tragically been injured beyond recovery (saving); hence, she’d been allowed this precious remaining time to be spent saying farewells to her husband and child.

"There’s really no way she can be saved?" Zunrogo shook his head and gestured to sternly cut off Fradel's anticipated next inquiry.  "Pity, all the courage she has shown is totally lacking in Official Ceros Agripe.” Zunrogo derisively (sarcastically) snorted and looked away. “Let him come to terms with this new reality and then grieve for his impending loss in private; besides, the last thing we need now is the complications from a hysterical husband.  The rest, including the official Luvet and the crew, will be appraised of the near miss peril they’d been spared, all in good time, well after all the corpses are made fish meal.” 

“Meanwhile, for their sake and for ours, the less they know the better." Zunrogo impatiently then added that he’d taken this ill-afford time, out of courtesy to Fradel, to appraise him of the facts.  Now that the danger had passed, all that remained was the cleanup. He next went on to say, as a matter-of-factly, how to prevent pestilence, in the aftermath (result) of the deadly fray (fight, skirmish, battle), it had been deemed necessary to immediately dispose of all the corpses, into the cold, watery grave.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) reluctantly concurred with this hardhearted, but sound decision, then solemnly offered his assistance, where warranted.

 

03- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC) OFFERS ASSISTANCE (6)

“Kind of you to proffer (volunteer),” Zunrogo curtly refused his help, saying that the only task remained then, was still too gruesome and taxing, for one with Scholar’s delicate sensibilities and fragile constitution. There was no malice in his tone, just fact, so Fradel let this affront (insult) go.

Fradel was asked instead to, for a little while longer, remain in his cabin, until all the unpleasantness, in other words, all telltale signs of skirmish on deck, had been thoroughly cleared.

Zunrogo had another reason for keeping the meddlesome scholar away from the scene of the battle. He was certain, there were no survivors left above deck, however, perchance there were some, Fradel, with his moral rectitude, would be gallingly adamant for the wounded to be properly (cared for) tended; this contrasting with Zunrogo’s deemed sound judgement of, finishing them off and then swiftly discarding all the corpses into the watery grave, to prevent  any possibility of unforeseen, future complications.

By the time Zunrogo caught up with his Lieutenant, Tzan having already delivered the barely alive Disaidun Agripe to the care of her hysterical husband, at present his mind totally engaged with his work, was in the process of routinely adding weights to the neck and feet of last (group) batch of tied up corpses, before they too, unceremoniously were dumped (discarded) overboard into the river.

 

04- CHURNING WATERS OF THE RIVER

Tzan mopped his forehead off perspiration with the back of his hand then stood back to check and admire his clever workmanship.  Seeing that there was a slight movement, a twitch, a flicker of life, in one of the presumed dead, he quickly lifted the bound (roped, fastened, trussed) bundle and carried it to the railing then tilted it overboard.

 " Enjoy your long, blissful sleep at the bottom of the river." he hissed with venomous sneer, as he watched it sink into oblivion beneath the waves. When he turned, he was startled to find Zunrogo standing right behind him.

"Was that the last of it?" Zunrogo asked Tzan, with an unreadable expression on his face.  Receiving Tzan's nod of affirmation, he grunted cooly. "Good work."  Then he simply turned and walked away. 

“Well, Lance Diostin, despite your invincible prowess, you are now, indisputably dead and gone; and perhaps if you are lucky, your vestige (trace, hint) of brilliant exploits will be written onto the pages of history.” Zunrogo musing, scoffed (derided) then exhaled slowly the long, tense breath, which he’d been unwittingly (unawares) holding.

 

                                                                                     ~

 

Shortly after dusk the deckhands were let out to scrub the gore from the decks and mend those parts of the ship that had suffered in the attack.  For most of the night the crew slaved away not daring to make any suppositions or ask any questions about the day's events.

To a man, however, they were in unison with their intention, to abandon this cursed vessel and vanish into oblivion the very moment they docked at the next port. For they all had their own secret reasons for not wanting to undergo, the inevitably lengthy and grueling investigation and consequently, the impending penalties.

 

                                                                                       ~

 

Subsequent days, while the top deck buzzed with a flurry of activity, silence reigned in the cabins below.

Soon as Zunrogo could get away, he had stolen into his cabin to quietly inspect the letter. Noticing right from the start some oddities about the sheath, his face darkened, and deep frown set in. He did not wish to tamper with it any further, but was convinced nevertheless, that the contents within would most definitely be fake, which meant that the actual letter was in possession of that covert Black Moloch’s agent.

“Is he still on board?” Zunrogo wondered “or had he clear gotten away. “ 

In any case, this setback put him in a real bad mood, which would last several days.

Eventually he did, very carefully, bypassing the deathly traps and poisonous dart, removed the fake inside letter and unfolding it, quickly perused the contents. What he read infuriated him still more, knowing if he had in ignorance delivered the letter to the Prime Minister, it would have brought about his immediate, ignoble (dishonorable, dastardly) death.  In his rage he promptly fed the letter along with its covering to the hungry flames in the brazier.

Later still, Zunrogo keen on discovering the particulars and whereabouts of this presumed Black Moloch spy, his tireless efforts, and astute observances, had eventually revealed to him the presumed identity of the culprit. He’d been one of the crewmen, one called Zack, most probably a pseudo name; what’s more, after the battle, he had mysteriously (gone missing) disappeared without a trace, never to been seen or heard from again. Yet, this had not alarmed anyone, including him?

 

05 B CREWMAN ZACK - A BLACK MOLOCK SPY ON BOARD BOAT (5)JP

Zunrogo now faintly remembered how on the day they’d boarded the vessel, his keen eye had (caught) noted the exceptional physique of this particular crewman; nevertheless, in the aftermath Zunrogo had been so completely taken in by Zack’s assumed ordinary demeanor. This infuriated Zunrogo, subsequently, his ire (indignation), his fiery temper had rained misery on all, especially since Zunrogo, upon further reflecting, became acutely aware of his own (failing) prior oversight, resulting in his sorely missing the certain oddities that should have alerted his senses.

After further thorough search of the vessel and questioning at length the other crewmen and Tzan, Zunrogo’s suspicions were affirmed; that Zack, had not been among the discarded corpses, which meant that, he’d had clear gotten away along with the actual extortion letter! Be that as it may, the vessel charting a ceaseless course in the center of this fast flowing, wide river with barely visible shorelines, however a good swimmer, could Zack still have defied all the odds?

 

 

                                                                                     ~

 

(END OF SECTION 36)