LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 6

 NEVETSECNUAC

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 6

 

Nevetsecnuac had felt a twinge of pain as the blade had, just then, carelessly, or perhaps deliberately; cut a thin sliver into the flesh across his throat, making the blood trickle down both sides of his neck.

Unflinching, Nevetsecnuac smiled at Zonar Kuntzu.  "I'm ready for another bout (session), in fact I’ve been looking forward to break (end) this tiresome monotony; however, you must first excuse my unceremonious greeting of you."  He then shifted to lessen Zonar ‘s hold, but try as he might, he found himself solidly pinned, trapped under the other's oppressive hold.  Worse still, he could feel the blood coursing in his veins gradually ebbing (slowing down, fading)  robbing his vitals, his entire body, of the essential lifegiving force; that same instance, he felt as if slipping into a catatonic state, limbs weighed down like a solid rock or a huge bronze pot in defiance of his will,  refusing to budge even in the slightest.

Zonar Kuntzu seemed oblivious to this impediment; he only noted the fleeting shadow of concern registering in Nevetsecnuac's eyes and so, Zonar grinned, "You hesitate? Lest you fear, I have only lost miniscule faction of my powers?"

“Well, do you wish to fight me or not?  I never pegged you for a spineless opponent!” He let go and stood away. “I’ll give you a headway in strike, go on!”

Nevetsecnuac wished to respond but he could neither part his lips, nor was he able to utter the slightest sound; instead, only a frustrated, guttural (rasping, rough) gurgling came from his throat.

 

01- ZONAR CHALLENGES NEVETSECNUAC  ONCE MORE

 

Zonar’s subsequent response was baffling to Nevetsecnuac, especially since the other looked as if offended (aggrieved, angry, hostile) for a fleeting moment or two- by some perceived, brazen, insulting declaration (challenge) issued forth from Nevetsecnuac’s mind.

"You are far too reckless or brave, goading me so; nevertheless, I’m in no hurry to end your life, not just yet.  Not before I have some fun, but I fear it may prove to be no contest at all and, worse still, it may even bore me."  Pursing his lips disdainfully, Zonar, so uncharacteristically, coldly ejected and then shrugged.

 "After all, I do possess an unfair advantage over you.  Or have you so readily forgotten how I'm now very well acquainted with your fighting style, as well, know your innate (inadequacies) limitations? “

“That's right, suffice to say that what we shared before, glorious as it may have seemed to you, was only a trifling test run.  What you encountered then, and found so hard to defend against, even after the loss of my talisman, was but one twentieth of my force and ability."  Suddenly Zonar’s countenance turned dark and his expression fierce.

 "Damn you!" he swore, gritting his teeth.

"Why the hell did you not stay where you were safe, instead of paying a pilgrimage to that worthless Heaven's Gate Spiritual Temple, the den of mercenaries and spies?  That vile, cursed place should have been razed to the ground long ago, along with all the rest.  You thought they would be worthy of your trust because they were duty-bound (obligated), functioning under the cloak of faith?  Now, regrettably, you will have to be slayed.  You will all have to be eradicated (eliminated), including your newborn twin son and daughter."

Zonar grimaced wryly, then added thoughtfully, "Yes, save for one; your wife, who has been promised a safe delivery into the hands of Emperor Deng Hedenko of Kontu, by my Sovereign Lord (of Korion), therefore, sending me on this execrable quest (odious mission).  But alas, I his loyal subject have been entrusted with this task."

 

02- EMPEROR OF KONTU DENG HEDNEKO

 

"What!  Lord Asger (Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon) and the twins will all be killed?  My wife… my precious, beautiful Teuquob, will be at the mercy of Deng Hedenko, that rancorous (malign) villain?"

Zonar’s announcement (declaration) had sent a terrible lightning bolt (strike) through Nevetsecnuac's brain; next, an all-consuming, searing rage had coursed through his veins and exploded in his chest.  His soul recoiling in terror, he clenched his fists until his knuckles (turned white) cracked.

Externally, Nevetsecnuac’s face had contorted somewhat tragically, his eyes revealing only a fleeting glimpse of the raging, conflicting storm that tore up his spirit (core); with

remarkable will thence, he checked this rising fury that threatened to unhinge (unbalance) him. “No,” He determinedly rejected the present reality; and moments later common sense had edified (enlightened, informed) him to the truth, that this person before him, was someone other than Zonar.  Though he bore Zonar’s (likeness) physical form, had similar eccentric (quirky, odd) attributes- his innate character, his demeanor nevertheless was slightly off, and it could be said even quite odd (alien).

Nevetsecnuac could not rightly pinpoint the reason, but his intuition, the inner dread surmounted with the foreboding feeling just then, had thus constricted (confined, held, caged) his soul in a primordial vice (pure evil).

  

"I'll release you from the spell (incantation) that binds you, soon enough," Zonar meanwhile, had promised hardheartedly (stonily). "So that we may resume where we’d left off; however, I trust that, before your glorious end, you will furnish me with one more memorable battle."

"You'll have that, and more!" Nevetsecnuac hissed, his tongue now released from the oppressive hold to the utter amazement of Zonar.  For Nevetsecnuac somehow with his innate prowess (ability), had broken the spell. 

 

03 - NEVETSECNUAC BREAKS THE SPELL

 

“You never cease to amaze me.” But before Zonar could react and shoot out searing beams from his pupils, pre-emptively Nevetsecnuac's two fingers of his right hand had targeted Zonar's blazing eyes while the left hand grasped Zonar's wrist clutching the hilt of his sword.  In a contest of strength next, the blade was forced away from Nevetsecnuac’s throat and cast off to one side, as Nevetsecnuac simultaneously rolled his body, to pin Zonar under him on the wet ground.

“I will not be underestimating you again.” Zonar's glaring expression mutely warned.

"Give me one, just one good reason why I should spare your life." Nevetsecnuac demanded through gritted teeth as his right hand gripped Zonar's throat in a death hold.

"What duress, what measure of political liability (millstone) has Hedenko over your Sovereign that your liege would force such a cowardly onus (to murder innocent children and to abduct woman for delivery) onto you, his loyal subject?"

Half blinded by the blood oozing from his eye sockets, Zonar remained unrelenting and defiantly spat into Nevetsecnuac's face, gurgling, "Go to hell!"

Then, by no means helpless, in the ensuing contest of strength Zonar, the summoned sword’s hilt once more in his grip, his legs tightly wound around Nevetsecnuac's waist, the two, interlocked as they were, rolled until at one point they both went over the precipice and, after falling some measure as they scraped the jagged, protruding rocks, plummeted headlong into the depths of the lake.

Zonar, being the first to be freed from the choking, trapping net of submarine growth, swam ashore then, brandishing his sword in readiness to hack, watched, and waited for his adversary to surface next.  His fiery eyes, miraculously mended, combed the crystalline depths beneath the gently undulating waves; suddenly however, Nevetsecnuac sprang up out of the water and somersaulting in the air over Zonar's head, landed on his feet squarely behind him.

Turning around in a flash to confront Nevetsecnuac, Zonar grimaced at him wryly.  "I shall certainly miss your amusing calisthenics.  Perhaps Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, your aged, crippled teacher, could be persuaded to perform the same; that is, if he survives the first encounter with me."

Zonar was being deliberately provocative, hiding the fact that he had, in fact, felt a secret empathy and lasting admiration for that honorable old Lord, in view of all that he had heard and learned about him.

"Don't flatter yourself with your overrated confidence," came, Nevetsecnuac's hot retort.  Narrowing his eyes next, he demanded, "So, you still want to go through with this?"

"You expected less?"

"Then I shall be forced to stop you.  This time, however, you won't be cheating death so easily." Nevetsecnuac warned coldly.

In fact, he was stalling to attain more information about the informants, the spies inferred by Zonar, though he was not entirely sure how he would convey this vital message to Lord Asger Zhon once this adversary was bested (defeated) in combat.

 

04- NEVETSECNUAC

 

“Perhaps I would encounter another brave, loyal soul like Fradel Rurik Korvald, whom I can implicitly trust.” His reflections were just then rudely interrupted by Zonar's roaring laughter, "You?  You think you're capable of stopping me?”

After which he knitted his brows and bellowed at Nevetsecnuac, “Look who is overrating their skill!"

 Zonar pivoted away, then swung back again snorting angrily, "You talk so big, but what makes you think you're still good enough?"

 Zonar’s eyes (with no evidence of prior injury) completely restored to norm, he now narrowed his eyes and fiendishly warned: “If you had any sense, you would beg for mercy or flee to safety.  But I know your kind all too well.  You're so full of foolish notions of honor and idealism; you’ll never condescend (deign) to a reprehensible recourse (alternative, options) however reasonable, however sensible. “

“You are too foolhardy to concede (admit)to the truth, of what lies starkly before you, the evident hopelessness of your situation.  Blinded by faith you will hasten towards your death; go through hellfire, unflinchingly, wouldn't you, to achieve your goal?"

Zonar spat out the irate words, not giving Nevetsecnuac (single) any chance to respond.  "This you would do, despite the overwhelming odds against you, counting on posterity to log (register) your fame, relying only on Heaven's might to assist you in your righteous cause.  Hah!  Foolish martyrs that your kind always are, you would hasten to your death, never coming to grips with the Universal Truth: that man stands alone, fights alone, and dies alone, without any interference or least regard from Heaven.  After all, why should they take any heed in the mundane affairs of insignificant straw dogs like you?  One pitted against many?  Hah!  Courage and ability alone, however admirable, are not nearly enough when confronting a cunning, ruthless, formidable force.  Patience, good planning, strategy, and proper reinforcements are what are needed here most.  And don't think I don't know why you are headed to the Capital, Channing. “

He shook a reproachful finger at Nevetsecnuac.

"But I ask you, without all this that I have enumerated, how do you propose, I mean what makes you think that you will succeed where others have failed, and failed miserably?  You think that you're invincible?"

Nevetsecnuac just then was reminded of the magic brush, which Zonar had earlier gifted him and his had absentmindedly reached into his inner pocket (to retrieve it); but his hand failed to find it. It was gone!

“What are you searching for?”  Zonar growled.

Another evidence of a sure discrepancy in his character.  Nevetsecnuac, musing, looked down. Furthermore, Zonar’s inability to detect his thoughts (read, decipher his mind), confirmed Nevetsecnuac’s earlier suspicion that this person before him was only an impostor and a poor impersonator of Zonar at that, though assuredly, he was an assassin.

Nevetsecnuac sharply looked up to now say this, when Zonar just then clearly irritated, held up his hand, keeping any response from Nevetsecnuac. With his darkened countenance, he simply shook his head and next, scowling, looked away; but then shrugging his shoulders, he muttered: "Besides, what's the big urgency, eh?"

 

05-ZONAR KUNTZU -  (17)

 

Directing his gaze back at Nevetsecnuac he asked, "What are a few more years of waiting when twenty have already passed?  Unless” He opened his eyes wide. "Unless the secret had been revealed to you only recently…  Ah, now I understand.  It all makes sense."

Zonar nodded his head as conflicting emotions surged in his chest.  Once he, too, experienced Nevetsecnuac's type of impatience.

When he addressed Nevetsecnuac anew, his tone lacked the fire and brimstone, the remonstration, anger, and spite and was, instead, sympathetic and grave.

"Yes I, too, hold loyalty and filial piety as the duties most paramount to every man.  Though I care little for the affairs of your Country, I respect what you are aiming to achieve.”

“It is because I understand that I am now prepared to give you, sir, this leeway, this last chance, so that you may fulfill your life's objective.  All I ask, no, I demand in return is your promise of non-interference.  It is imperative that this condition be met for… then,”

“No, hear me out, first!"  He froze Nevetsecnuac's response with a gesture of his hand.

"Just take me on my word when I say that I cannot fail in my duty to my Sovereign Lord for, if I did, then dire, irreversible consequences would befall my Country. Fact is, we are forced by circumstance to bid our time; any premature deployment of our armies will prove disastrous, to say the least."  He had absentmindedly murmured this last phrase to himself as he had looked away then, reverting his piercing gaze back on Nevetsecnuac, he stressed, "Abide by this condition and I will spare your life and allow you to be on your way.  Otherwise, sir, I will not be held (accountable) responsible for what I will then be forced to do, for I have sworn to obliterate all opposition, however innocent, that stands in my way.  Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly…"  Nevetsecnuac answered sharply. “But it is most offensive to me, sir, that you would even consider proposing such an option to me.  More injurious still, you clearly expected an affirmative response."

 His voice rose with his mounting outrage, "How can I sacrifice the lives of those whom I'm sworn to protect?  How can I stand idly by and let you live to cause injury to Lord Asger Zhon, to my innocent son and daughter, and to let you abduct my wife and cast her into a fate far worse than death?  I will fight you, fight to the end of Earth if needs be, to prevent this from ever happening!"

"You sorely disappoint me, young man." Zonar's thunderous, reproachful voice interrupted Nevetsecnuac.  "Just whom do you bear your allegiance to?  Answer me this; what has been your prime objective all along, if not to avenge your forefathers?  For assured success, you should have hardened your heart.  Are you willing to risk it all for the sake of a mere woman, and an old man, and puny children?  Mark my words, this weakness will be your undoing."

"I'll be risking nothing since I do not intend to lose to you or any other.  Hence, your ominous prediction, sir, is unwarranted and farfetched."  Nevetsecnuac, though perplexed, retorted angrily.

"I thought I understood you well, but it seems I have erred." Zonar groaned, gritting his teeth.  Then, shifting his body impatiently, he scoffed, "I've wasted far too much precious time on you as it is, more than I cared to."

He was about to launch his deadly assault on Nevetsecnuac when, forcing restraint on himself, he stayed his hand and commanded, "Halt!  The Tokiro Code of the Warrior will not permit me to take on an unarmed foe."

Disregarding Nevetsecnuac's protest, he shot up into the air to land on the crest of the hill, disappearing shortly after.

"I've had just about enough of your stalling tactics.  I dare you to fight me now!" Nevetsecnuac shouted after him then, following suit, launched himself onto the hilltop.

Spotting Zonar in the distance, he rushed after him to engage him.

 Zonar, at first spreading the distance between them, swiftly delved into, then out of the previously hidden, deep cavern, to now stand at its gaping mouth with his feet firmly planted wide apart on the hard ground. With one difference, he was also armed with two sheathed swords, as he waited in a menacing pose with a scornful smile plastered on his lips, for Nevetsecnuac to catch up.

When Nevetsecnuac reached the right proximity, Zonar, shouted, “Catch!”, and in a flash, hurled one of the swords at him.

Nevetsecnuac, still running, reached out his hand and grasped the hilt of the sword in mid-air as it was about to sail by, instantly unsheathing it.

 "But what's this?"  Nevetsecnuac was taken aback, for this was not the sword he was expecting to have.  Rather it was Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon’s ancestral sword, the very one he had entrusted into Fradel Rurik Korvald's care.  He could not hide the fleeting horror in his eyes as he looked up to rivet his fiery, questioning gaze on Zonar.  Holding it up, he demanded in a fierce shout, "How did you come by this?"

The response was a roaring, earth-shaking laughter after which Zonar gnashed his teeth and confirmed Nevetsecnuac's worst fear, "Your head will soon be joining that of the man whose name you have assumed."

"And what possible danger did he pose to you, you are vile, despicable assassin?" Nevetsecnuac cursed furiously, his face knotted with rage.

"He was on his way to join up with Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, was he not? What difference would it make, then, where he expired?" Zonar retorted with sarcasm and a bemused smile as he shrugged his shoulders and scoffed.

 

06-NEVETSECNUAC  32

 

"You…You will pay for this outrage murdering swine!" Nevetsecnuac, in a passionate fury brandishing his sword, launched his deadliest assault on Zonar.

The opponent swiftly deflected the blow and, in a twirl, hacked back at Nevetsecnuac.

Nevetsecnuac, rendering this lethal onslaught ineffective, averted the sword's successive deadly strikes, then somersaulted into position to thrust the blade into Zonar's side; only to have Zonar swerve nimbly and miss it by a sliver.

The next instant they were interlocked in the fiercest, most fatal combat yet, that defied all description and made their previous clashes seem more like mere child's play.

Zonar proved as good as his boast and, during subsequent countless rounds, Nevetsecnuac, despite his competence, suffered severe wounds and serious, deep lacerations to his legs, arms, chest and face.

In the ensuing twenty or more bouts of fray, as Nevetsecnuac effectively confronted (tackled) Zonar's invincible prowess, even though he deflected a multitude of deadly blows, thrusts and strikes and, with his superb skill and agility, held his own for a long time, to later succeed in inflicting some serious wounds and slashes on Zonar, in the end, with his strength slowly ebbing, to his dismay Nevetsecnuac was forced to concede to the possibility of his probable (foreseeable) defeat.

Suddenly however, the images of his beloved (his uncle, wife, and children) manifesting in his mind’s eye, anew regenerated his fortitude and zeal.  Letting go a most fearsome, blood-curdling shout, Nevetsecnuac ducked, dived then executed his most brilliant, incredible maneuver yet, to in one lightning sweep of the blade sever (hack) Zonar's head at the neck (collar).

The bloody head, cleared off the torso, tumbled onto the ground and rolled some ways before being arrested by a rock.

Nevetsecnuac barely had time to reflect on his success, however, when, to his amazement and great horror, he witnessed the decapitated body of Zonar slowly rising from the ground to advance towards where the bloodied head lay still.  The head, meanwhile, quavered then, dislodged from the ground, simply hurled up and joined with the severed stump.

 

07-ZONAR KUNTZU - 2 (33)

 

The head now on the nape and perfectly aligned, the bloody line sizzling and emitting a blue iridescence, subsequently dissolved, fused (bonded, merged) with the body.

Once more a whole being, Zonar suddenly opened his eyes wide and, turning burrowed his fiery gaze into Nevetsecnuac.

With a snarl on his lips he declared, "Fool!  You can't kill me!  Don’t you know you can't kill an immortal?”

“Ha!  Ha!  Hah!  Your best and only recourse would have been, is to take a flight… to scram. Now, I'll have your head and, your soul will be condemned for all eternity rot in Hell!"

Throwing his head back, Zonar first howled like a wolf, and then with an eerily laugh, launched anew his murderous assault on (a tad stunned) Nevetsecnuac.

 

"I'll show you how even an immortal can be killed!"  Though disheartened for a spell, Nevetsecnuac bravely thwarted each consecutive blow then shifted to an offensive with more lethal strikes. During the seemingly eternal, succession (series) of intense, pitched scuffle, Nevetsecnuac, nevertheless, soon realized that he could not exhaust this formidable foe even after hundreds more such skirmishes, let alone vanquish him.

 Same could not be said of Nevetsecnuac, for the incessant fierce combat eventually taking its toll, his stamina ebbed, and he was once more forced to fight defensively.

 In this dire circumstance, before Nevetsecnuac could further retaliate or utilize his only viable option to flee, Zonar, at lightning speed wielding three consecutive strikes with his indestructible sword, dealt Nevetsecnuac’s fate an irreversible, calamitous turn.

The first decisive blow broke the blade of Lord Asger’s ancestral sword, as if it were a tender twig, into two halves.  The second blow came from the hilt of Zonar's sword. It struck so hard on Nevetsecnuac's top of the head that it split-open an inch deep gash in his skull.  As Nevetsecnuac fought against disorientation, excruciating, throbbing pain, the dizzying, whirling, fast failing vision (eyesight), Zonar, glaring venomously at Nevetsecnuac, in a third strike, swung his sword wide to... Before Nevetsecnuac could ask, “Could this be the end?”  Whoosh … The raw blade in an instant severed Nevetsecnuac's head clean through at the nape of his neck.

 

(END OF SECTION 6)

                                                                                ~

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 22

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 22

PREFECT MICEN DO

The following morning, Fradel Rurik Korvald(Nevetsecnuac) and Yenis Luko  woke at dawn and, after their ablutions, ate some dry rations and then  readied the luggage.   Leading the horse by the bridles (reins) with Yenis mounted in the saddle, Fradel negotiated their way down the sodden path which was occasionally blocked by moss covered rocks or fallen tree limbs; once out of the periphery of the forest, Fradel still holding onto (halters) straps and on feet, guided the horse onto the highway in the direction of Wincox City. They had not gone far, however, before they were suddenly surrounded (ambushed) by some seventy-to eighty-mounted guards (constabularies) armed with lances (spears) who’d raced to encircle them.

One of the guards reaching out grabbed her arm and dismounted her; she was roughly thrown on to the ground and landed on her rear, next to Fradel (Nevetsecnuac). Fortunately, her physical state, being sturdier than it looked, had suffered no ill effects. Ignoring Fradel’s concerned queries, unexpectedly just then, Yenis, fell on her knees before the captain and pleaded for mercy but all her entreaties (implorations) went unneeded by the stone-faced Captain who, instead, refusing to listen to any reason, hurled threats and obscenities at both Fradel and Yenis, while his men loutishly bound and gagged Fradel and Yenis then tossed (threw) them both into an iron cage mounted on a wagon, to be carted into the city’s prison. 

Along the way, Yenis, shaking from head to toe like a leaf, all curled up in a ball in the corner of the cage, whimpered pitifully till at one point she simply passed out; however, the scornful guards simply sneered and refused to check in on her condition.  As it was, under the guise of a scholar, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), had been constrained from using his martial prowess to extricate them from this trouble; hence, he’d meekly surrendered to this grave injustice. 

Surely the matter would be clarified at Court, soon enough. Nevetsecnuac had mistakenly supposed (assumed).

 Upon reaching their destination, however, the prisoners were then hustled into a dark, damp and dreary dungeon where they were immobilized in a pillory and locked up for the night.

The following morning, Magistrate Turo of Birgergon County, having set aside the documents from his other, minor cases, was examining Fradel's papers in detail when he suddenly grew flushed in the face.

"This is no simple matter of trespassing.  One cannot just sentence him to death and have done with it."  With a grave visage he sprang to his feet and rushed off at once to his private chamber back where he summoned his subordinates and confidants to a conference.

"The emperor’s edict, which has stood for these last twenty years, allows no exception." He summed up after the briefing.  "Yet how could we prosecute an important personage such as Fradel Rurik Korvald, who clearly enjoys His Majesty's good graces, and still escape the consequences of disobeying the Imperial guarantee of safe passage contained in these documents?"

Turo cupped his head in his hands as the others exchanged worried glances, knowing that their fate was sealed along with that of the Magistrate.  The more outspoken of them ventured hastily thought-out suggestions which only served to infuriate the Magistrate.  Increasingly agitated, Turo drummed his fingers on the desk and demanded immediate, more satisfactory answers to his dilemma.

The bookish Assistant Chief Constable, who had kept a thoughtful silence up until then, picked up his courage, noisily cleared his throat to command the attention of the silent group then spoke, "There is, unfortunately, another serious concern, related to this one, which also needs to be addressed, Your Honor."

 He retrieved a piece of paper, a wanted poster, from the leather wrap and, unfolding it, presented it to the Magistrate.

 "I received this by special courier from the Prefect's Office just this last hour, and was on the point of having it duplicated and distributed.  Please, Your Honor, note carefully how the description of the female criminal on the left tallies perfectly with the features of Fradel Rurik Korvald's accomplice. “

“Furthermore, since she was in Fradel Rurik Korvald's company when she was apprehended, I would venture to guess that he is the hunted male criminal on the right."

 All heads one by one nodded in concurrence, as the wanted poster was passed around from hand to hand.

"It's definitely her, Your Honor. But the male's description is rather vague (sketchy). Nevertheless, we must agree with Lu's assumption that it could very well be the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald."

"Of course, the final word rests with you, Your Honor."

"Confound it!  More problems!" the Magistrate barked.

 He burrowed his piercing eyes into Lu, venting his fury on the bearer of this news,

"I suppose you would be the one to pile more rocks on my premature grave.  Bah!  I asked for an apt solution, not more complications."

As the Assistant Chief Constable withdrew to the back, muttering apologies for his untimely introduction of this news, a few of his colleagues hastened to appease Turo.

"Your Honor it may be good that we became aware of it now, so that we can take it into consideration."

"Yes, this is to our advantage, for later on it could have proven disastrous."

Subsequent (Pursuing) hours of intense deliberation, the conference finally produced a suitable resolution all could agree on: The Magistrate would not hold the court in Wincox City but would defer the matter in its entirety for proper disposition by Prefect Micen Do in his superior court in Denor City, the site of the alleged crime. 

Assenting, the relieved Magistrate wiped the perspiration from his brow (forehead) and swiftly drafted a detailed account of the trespassing crime, included a sworn deposition from his guards, and added an inflated account of the great expense incurred in apprehending these felons.

Magistrate Turo then ordered heavier racks to be fitted for the necks of both prisoners and, that they are dispatched that same day under heavy guard to the Prefecture in Denor to await their trial and the subsequent punishment.

 The captain (furnished with Fradel's sealed identity papers, sealed summons along with a special insert from the inept Magistrate, the transfer order and papers of indictment on the trespassing charge), along with one hundred armed guards, escorted the prisoners in heavy chains locked up inside a caged cart, out of the city.

As mentioned earlier, the trouble having transpired in such proximity to the capital province Holger, Nevetsecnuac, under the guise of scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald, had been constrained to remain within the bounds of scholar’s faculties (abilities) and therefore, had endured (tolerated) this grave injustice.  Nevertheless, his contingency plan had considered the possibility of this matter not being cleared up by the Prefex Micen Do either, in which case, he then planned to take direct action and make good his escape, preferably at an apt opportunity and place with minimal (disruptive) consequences.

 Unfortunately, he had grossly underestimated the seriousness of his nightmarish situation, the dept of corruption and the strong security measures that truncated any possibility of justice or effecting escape, not in Wincox City, nor on the way to the Prefectural Seat in Denor.

                                                                                                 ~                                                

05-- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC)) AND YENIS, IN CHAINS

Arriving at the Denor city gates by mid-morning, they (prisoners, Captain and the guards) were all instantly plunged into a large, hostile crowd of common citizens.  Obviously bribed and coached, the indignant crowd which waited for them tormented the prisoners all along the route to the Prefect's Office.  Yenis and Fradel were pelted with an assortment of ripe fruit, rotted eggs, slimy and foul-smelling human and animal excrement as well as being subjected to furious vilification, threats, curses and blows to the head and back from those who had brought along thick poles for the purpose.

The stern, hard faced Prefect, Micen Do, on being informed of the prisoners' arrival, immediately took up his seat and called his court into session.  With order finally restored, Micen Do had the bailiffs bring both prisoners forward.

 As was customary at the start of any trial the male accused, Fradel, was brought forward, stripped to the waist and given fifty heavy strokes with iron rods, on his back until the flesh broke.  Not satisfied with the damage thus inflicted on Fradel's sturdy form, Micen ground his teeth in contempt and ordered another twenty strokes, accusing the bailiffs of being too lenient (humane, merciful) in their beating of the prisoner.  To his chagrin, not a whimper or plea was attained from stubborn Fradel’s lips, robbing the Prefect and the gleaned (gathered, assembled) crowd the sought after perverse satisfaction.

Grumbling under his breath, Micen Do summarily looked over the indictment papers with a hard visage. He then picked up the documents bearing the formal complaint and the death warrant itself.  Briefly glancing at the report from Magistrate Turo, he brushed aside Fradel's identity papers with a huff, barely noting even Fradel's full name.

"The charge of trespassing is solid; we can therefore dispense with any hearing on that matter.  The sentence is death."  He moved to quiet the cheering from the crowd then looked up to formally charge both of the accused with the added crimes of murder, mutilation and robbery of the honorable Senson Luko.

 "I will withhold the sentence of death pending the outcome of this trial, so as to determine by the proceedings the severity of the criminals' torture and the means of their death."

The prisoners were not permitted to enter a plea or say a single word in their defense at this point in the proceedings.  Instead, the court clerk, as ordered, stepped forward and read out loud the highlights of the case against them, including the corroborating testimonies of the brothers of the deceased and the servants of the Luko household.

The picture painted was most incriminating.  Yenis was described as a wanton, shamefully promiscuous woman, guilty of immoral misconduct, carrying on (with untold no of men) secret rendezvous and illicit affairs, who on the night in question had smuggled her latest lover, Fradel, into her husband's private library in order to commit murder.

The summation was concocted from the Prefect's own conjecture and read out to the court.  "After this vile, gruesome deed was accomplished, both the accused pilfered (made off with) many of the valuables, to enable them a fresh start elsewhere.  Making good their escape, they successfully eluded the constables on their trail until, after hiding out in a site forbidden by Imperial decree, where no honest citizen would dare tread, they were apprehended (ensnared) by the good and proper forces of the law. Guilty as they are of such reprehensible (appalling) acts, they deserve no mercy from this court."

 The (jovial outcry) cheers of the spectators painted a sinister smile on the Prefect's ugly, scar-ridden face as he delayed restoring order to the courtroom.

There was only slim evidence, vague at best, from the only eyewitness, the old gatekeeper, concerning the identity of the lover.  Familiar with such goings on, he had failed to get a good look at the man in the dark as the two made their getaway.  He had just minded his own business and had not raised the alarm until the grisly discovery of the following morning which brought to light the full scope of their crime.  However, this lack of solid evidence did not deter Prefect, with the persistent finger of guilt pointed at Fradel; it was enough that he had been caught along with Yenis.

"Fradel Rurik Korvald is guilty as charged by his association with a known criminal alone, there being an absence of factual evidence in this matter."

Prefect Micen Do then rush through the verbal questioning of the witnesses, practically coaxing their testimony from them in order to achieve the desired effect. 

He was constrained to follow at least the appearance of proper judicial procedure even though he was completely blinded to any sense of justice in his eagerness to secure a guilty verdict for both the accused, Yenis and Fradel.

Why was he so prejudiced?  It was because he wished to set a precedent here.  For some time now, moral standards in Denor have been particularly lax.  Since many fine, upstanding gentlemen, including the Prefect himself, liked to idle away their time consorting or ogling the beautiful courtesans and other loose women, in thriving establishments of ill repute posing as respectable tea houses that had sprung up in a multitude all along the riverbanks.  The river Hain, whose course meandered along the immediate outskirts of the city, was often thronged with pleasure boats from which the singing, laughter and music drifted into the suburbs until all hours of the night, every night.

 In this liberal atmosphere it was left to these same promiscuous men to preach virtue to their wives and daughters and to keep them from straying and become the playthings of other men.  Such happenings would entail an ultimate loss of face for these pretentious family men.  Even Prefect Micen Do, whose wife was no great beauty and falling far short of the good looks Yenis bore despite her present disheveled condition, had vigorously guarded his wife's chastity (fidelity) from the time of their marriage ceremony with a particularly jealous obsession. As his second wife (first one was deceased) was much younger than him, Micen Do had kept her virtually imprisoned within the confines of their home, to prevent any probability of her straying. This criminal case (adultery and murder) had naturally struck at the insecure chord of his heart and aligned his sympathies from the start with the deceased cuckold, Senson Luko, who he feared could just as easily have been him.

With much of the preliminaries out of the way, it finally became Fradel's turn to be asked, merely as a formality, how he pleaded to the charge of murder, mutilation and robbery.  Instead of pleading guilty as he had been instructed to in jail, Fradel with dignified composure, defiantly looked Micen straight in the eye and boldly protested his innocence of all three charges.  On the advice of his senior assistant, the Prefect contained his burst of fury and overlooked Fradel's impertinence.  He ordered the keeper of the stores to produce the most incriminating evidence; the murder weapon itself, for the court and it was promptly set on the dais before the bench.

Picking up the knife, mottled with dried blood, Micen thundered, "Do you still persist in denying that this does not belong to you?  Do you deny that the inscription on the blade, an engraved 'F', stands for 'Fradel'?"  He thrust the blade towards Fradel at arm's length and stormed, "Confess your crime now, and your death will be swift.  Delay this court and you will suffer all the agonies of Hell."

Again, Fradel with unwavering resolve, stated his innocence.  With his stoic, heroic countenance he then, with eloquent speech, enumerated (pointed out) the blatant loopholes in these unfounded charges against him; and in doing so, broke into shambles all the evidence amassed against him.

This created a great stir in the court, propagating (sowing) serious dissension among the gleaned (assembled) onlookers, some of whom now wavered in their resolve about Fradel.  Some even loudly questioned the soundness of the authority's judgment and actions thus far, crying out that a great injustice had been done by Fradel Rurik Korvald, who was obviously innocent.

To root out this dangerous, disturbing development, the concerned Prefect Micen Do angrily interceded.  Pointing an accusing finger at Fradel, he cursed him as the worst kind of renegade, a dangerous, venomous scorpion who used his cunning abilities to stir up the crowd.  He then had Fradel trussed up like an animal, using even more chains to prevent him moving a muscle, and had him gagged, to prevent "Fradel's disruptive, treasonous outbursts."  Fradel was also given a dozen more lashes to subdue him and to appease Micen's (fury) ire.

Already prejudged guilty, merely as a formality, Yenis was next asked, under the threat of torture, to confess her guilt, elaborate on the details of her crime and admit to the whereabouts of the stolen goods, which the muddleheaded Prefect only then had recollected to ask.

"But I'm innocent, Your Honor.  I was forcibly abducted."  Yenis, bemoaning her fate, dropped to her knees and in a quivering (trembling), tragic tone pleaded for mercy from the Court.  Despite the overwhelming evidence against her, grasping at straw in her effort to escape her inevitable, horrible end, she then mesmerized the court and kept the spectators in rapt attention, swaying the facts and circumstantial evidence all in her favor.  Vehemently claiming her innocence and stating that she had been grossly wronged by malicious slanders, she pointed an accusing finger at Fradel, declaring that she had never before that cursed day set eyes on him, that after Fradel's brutal murder of her beloved husband, this lecher had forcibly abducted her and sexually assaulted her.

Many groaned in the courtroom, already having committed to memory Fradel's brilliant defense.

"I've been made to suffer enough injustices, Your Honor." Her tearful protest came next. "But I care little that my name is unjustly smeared with filth …that I'll be cut down in the prime of my life.  All that I ask is that I be allowed to mourn properly, like a dutiful wife should, for my beloved husband severed (torn) so prematurely from me.  Afterwhich, you may do with me as you wish, Your Honor.  You may torture me, slice me to ribbons, remove my entrails and feed them to the dogs.  I do not care if I'm ever reborn.  I still will not cry injustice then.  My life here or in the hereafter is of little consequence to me."  She sobbed uncontrollably, the very picture of a virtuous wife.

She was by no means finished with her very convincing melodramatic performance.  Following several more minutes of hysterical crying, she with a heart wrenching moan raised her shackled hands and, looking up again lamented (bemoaned) her fate.  "Oh pity, pity me; I’ve done nothing to deserve such agony; oh, but Heaven sees all, Heaven is the only true judge… Merciful Gods, bear witness, to this great injustice inflicted on me today!"  She tore off clumps of her disheveled hair and struck her forehead to the floor until a slight trickle of blood oozed over her eyes.

 As many gasped, she spread her arms helplessly and again casting her gaze upwards, swore, "May the Almighty Gods strike me dead, right here and now, with a fiery bolt from Heaven, render me to cinders if I'm trying to deceive Your Honor."

All present mechanically turned their heads, searching with fearful eyes upwards.  But of course, no lightning appeared.

"Have pity on me, Your Honor; for how can poor, defenseless women like me prove my innocence?  I swear I've been framed by those who had hoped to gain from my death.

I swear that I was taken against my will that day by this rogue, who had butchered my dear husband and made me suffer such deplorable, unspeakable humiliations. “

“Oh, Heaven pity me; after all I've been through, I'm not deserving of this cruel treatment.  You’re Honor, look at me, look at me hard; can you not see that I’m no criminal!"

She continued to implore the Prefect in a hoarse, tragic tone, "Oh, you can't even begin to imagine what I've been made to endure.  Such shameful, vile torments I've suffered already by his hand!"

To substantiate her claim, she then tore open her sleeves to show the scratches and bruises on her arm, supposedly inflicted on her by her abductor, Fradel.

 She claimed that she had still worse ones all over her body.  "Would a lover do this to me?" she asked indignantly.

Many spectators, beguiled by her words and dramatic presentation, fixed Fradel with their burning, contemptuous glares while others, bug-eyed, simply gaped, sighed or shook their heads, wavering now in their assumption of her guilt.

Heated, animated discussions simultaneously erupted, first outside, then inside the courtroom between those that believed Yenis's innocence and saw her as a tragic victim and those that recalled Fradel's testimony or simply knew better.

Fradel, bursting with indignation and outrage, struggled violently against his shackles.  Some of the chains were stretched to the breaking point.  All who witnessed this gasped in fear and awe.  Some, who had been hardest on Fradel, now were tongue-tied, eyeing the exits as a pale-yellow streak ran down their backs.

Just then, on a signal from the Prefect, a serious blow to Fradel's head rendered him dizzy and almost unconscious.  He was vulnerable after all!  Those who, just moments before, were worried, grinned sheepishly at their own stupidity and cowardice; presently emboldened, they spat and cursed the prisoner.

Warm blood, meanwhile, oozed from the contusion, smearing half of Fradel's face.  He tasted the salty fluid (blood) on his lips, as he wavered in his stance, dancing stars and flashing lights appeared before his eyes.  He was surrounded by this crowd of ignorant nincompoops.  Easily swayed, they craved even more of his blood as the real culprit was winning their sympathies.

Even the stern visage of the Prefect was undergoing a significant change.  Secretly smitten by this beauty, he was mellowing.  Fortunately, a discreet whisper in his ear by his sound assistant Mouro, a former client of the Luko clan, quickly brought Micen to his senses.

"No use denying your guilt, vixen!" waving the documented proof in her face, he cursed Yenis.

 Fuming at having almost been made into a fool by her, he then shouted for her to be punished by five strokes to her legs. 

At once the heavy bamboo staffs (poles, sticks) mercilessly rained down on her frail, delicately shaped legs, each stroke intensified her ear-piercing shrieks and blood-curdling screams, evoking even more pity for her from the already beguiled crowd.

"Why punish her?"  They grumbled, biting their lips and shaking their heads.  "She is such a beauty, too."

"Silence in the court!"  The furious Prefect pounded his gavel on the bench to restore order.  When silence again reigned, Micen ordered the bailiffs to punish with blows the next one of the spectators who dared to utter a single sound of discontent.

Menacingly the bailiffs, with sinister smiles, held their bamboo staff high, ready to strike and searched the already cowering crowd for victims.

When Yenis was next questioned about the severed parts of her husband, Honorable Senson Luko, liver and heart and what became of them, she claimed ignorance of parts’ exact whereabouts and no amount of pressure applied could make her change her testimony.

Just then, when the Prefect again remembered the missing booty, he skipped over that line of questioning and asked instead of the whereabouts of it from her.

She fell on her knees and readily volunteered the answer; all the while sticking to her claim, that she had been taken to Kuno Temple by force where she had witnessed the culprit, Fradel, her abductor, burying it in the Large Hall.

 "With an aim to retrieve it later, the knave has cunningly disguised it as a burial mound for those cursed monks." she sneered.  "But, nevertheless, you'll find it under that pile of worthless bones.  He even threatened to bury me there, too, if I did not cooperate with his vile lust."  Cupping her face in her hands, she gave a convincing shudder, as if recalling his disgusting ogling of her.

Fradel could hardly contain his bursting rage, and a fierce storm grew in his heart.  What harm had he done her, to deserve such treachery?

Observing this, Micen grimaced in satisfaction, assuming this emotion attested to the truth of the facts but, in a second, his face again became clouded, for this presented him with a fresh set of problems, since the search for and retrieval of the goods would not be possible until after a special dispensation was secured from the Imperial Court.

On top of this, another worry also besets him.  Now that the burgled stash’s (loot's, plunder’s) whereabouts had been so carelessly disclosed to the entire court, he feared that, despite the penalty of death, some of the spectators may retrieve it before he could.  This meant even more effort and manpower to secure the temple area from such an unwanted intrusion.                                                                   

                                                 

Having no interest in the arts or literature, the name Fradel Rurik Korvald had meant absolutely nothing to Prefex Micen.  Fortunately, Ashrath, one of the court clerks, had chanced upon a volume of Fradel's poetry a couple of years prior as he was visiting a relative in the Capital, and he now suddenly recalled just who that name stood for, as well as the acclaimed poet's influence among the elite there.  He hastened forward to discretely whisper his warnings into the Prefect's ear, just before sentence was to be passed on the accused.

Suddenly an uproarious, boisterous laugh from the back rocked the entire courtroom, nearly shaking it to its foundation.  As if of one body, all heads turned to see a seated, fiery red-haired giant.

"Such insolence…  Who dares be so brazen and disorderly!  Bring forth the cheeky knave before me at once!" Micen bellowed.

The crowd (peeled) snapped apart in the middle to allow the rushing bailiffs to reach the culprit.  But the minute those in the lead came upon the stranger, still seated and glaring at them, they lost their nerves and froze perfectly still Like Mannequins allowing the rest that came after them to pile into them. 

The crowd outside the door craned their necks to see what was happening inside.

As the fierce stranger slowly rose to his feet and, with measured steps, walked weightily towards the Prefect, he looked even more formidable, and the intimidated bailiffs and the crowd once more voluntarily shrunk to the sides.

Unobstructed, the giant, (blazing) red-haired stranger walked straight to the bench, picked up the murderer's weapon and rammed the knife into the wood up to its hilt, barely missing Micen's knuckles.

Then, pointing a finger at the terrified Prefect, he thundered, "This trial is a travesty of justice, and you are not fit to be sitting on that seat."

 Panning the crowd with venomous eyes he bellowed, "All of you are beneath my contempt!" and he spat on the floor in disgust.

His intense gaze now turned back on the prefect, it burrowed deep into Micen's flesh, making the Prefect (break out) squirm in cold sweat.

With a wry grin the stranger growled, "Pay heed, for I will say this only once!  This man, known as Fradel Rurik Korvald, is innocent of any wrongdoing.  He is a gallant, principled young man whose only crime thus far is that he is too soft. Otherwise, he would not have found himself in this despicable mess (farcical situation).”

 He grimaced coldly, “If you had taken the trouble, you sorry excuse for a Prefect, to properly examine his papers you would have seen for yourself that he is a stranger to these parts.  I, myself, came across him at a remote inn in Zhingcho Province at the same time that your perjuring witnesses claimed that he was consorting with this vile, treacherous woman, whose lying tongue should be cut from her mouth."

 He had only to turn his burning gaze in her direction, his hand resting on the sword hilt at his waist, to cause Yenis to recognize him as the ghost in her room at Kuno Temple.  She shrieked and collapsed unconscious to the floor like a stone.

 "Bah!  The worm is not worth tainting my sword with her vile body fluids."

 With a snort of contempt, he again addressed Micen Do, "I will be leaving you now but, if in three days’ time Fradel Rurik Korvald is not released, you will answer for it to my sword's blade.  The metal thirsts for the heads of your kind."

09- IMMORTAL ZONAR KUNTZU

 With a cold sneer he turned his back to the Prefect, "I dare you to have your men obstruct my way!"

As he passed by Fradel, he stayed his footing (steps) just long enough to grimace at Fradel and bowed his head slightly. "I, Zonar Kuntzu, now return the favor."

He let out a boisterous, sinister laugh which grated on the nerves of the packed courtroom, then narrowed his eyes and, with a serious visage, advised Fradel, "You must harden your heart for what is to come and to finish the job I've started here."

As his hand saw the air, a sudden clap of thunder deafened everyone and immersed the courtroom in a thick mass of fiery smoke and light.  When it cleared, as fast as it had appeared, the stranger had disappeared into thin air.

All stood frozen, their tongues sticking out of gaping mouths, as they stared at the spot where, just seconds before, Zonar had stood.  It took some time before their breathing normalized, their heartbeat regulated, and they ceased trembling long enough to remember to retract their tongues.

Those with the stronger constitutions now jostled towards the door, stampeding over the bodies of the weaker ones who had fallen underfoot.  On their heels the rest followed, tottering (lurching) in streams to the outside.  Their knees knocking, their limbs trembling, they all repeated the persistent murmur etched on their lips, "Zonar!  Zonar!  We have seen the messenger of Death!"

The Prefect, having received the greatest scare of all (still tongue-tied,) at the urging of Mouro, finally regained his senses and power of speech. With his lackluster eyes, purple lips and pale, sickly face drenched in perspiration, he gave up any idea of restoring order to the court and, after dispatching the guards to search for the stranger, quickly adjourned the proceedings.  With the secretary carrying the bulk of the documents, he withdrew to his private quarters while the prisoners were hauled off to once more be pilloried in their dark cells.

(END OF SECTION 22)