THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 11

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE STATE OF THINGS- SECTION 11

Fradel, resolved to tell all, nodded and then solemnly confessed: "The venerable Zukan Rurik Korvald, in truth was my adopted father, who’d rescued me from the clutches of death and raised me as his own all these years. This fact was revealed to me on his death bed."

Svein empathetically listened to it, as Fradel gradually unfolded the threads of his confidential, distressing past:

Zukan Rurik Korvald, a celebrated scholar of his time, one faithful day on a return trip after visiting a close relative, propitiously (impulsively) requiring some respite, had had his boat moored on the banks of the river Tua, just a short distance from a bridge.  He had interrupted his journey craving also, to partake (imbibe) a particular fine wine (a special brew he’d procured from a winery), while absorbing proper appreciation of the marvelous scenery that enhanced that region. 

Subsequently inspired, he’d composed some brilliant stanzas that were later to be highly prized by the gentry; just before dusk, he’d laid down his brush and returned to his cabin to recline for a short repose (rest) when, the blowing of horns and the approaching thunder of hooves drove him back up on deck.

From afar, he had then witnessed the gruesome tragedy of two people, unfortunate enough to be caught on the bridge and, failing to clear the way, being trampled by Zakhertan Yozdek's unruly steed as he led his mounted contingent in a fearsome race over the hills, leaving a trail of dust behind. Overriding the protests of his boatmen, Zukan Rurik Korvald still sent his two trusted servants to the bridge to assess the damage and, perhaps, lend some curative help to the unfortunate victims.  As expected, their report of the couple's fate came as no surprise to anyone.  The couple had been trampled to death; however, the mother's quick action, as she'd used her body to shield her infant son from the deadly onslaught had spared the baby from a certain death.  The chief steward, not knowing what else to do, had returned with the scrawny, bawling infant in his arms.

The captain and crew put up a strong resistance to having the baby on board, arguing that this was no small matter.  Refusing to become involved, the captain had strongly advised Zukan to dispose of the infant along with his parents’ corpses into the river.

 "Field Marshal Zakhertan Yozdek,” he'd vehemently warned, "is not one to be trifled with.  You're a stranger to these parts; you don't know the half of it.  If you value your life, you'd best forget all you've seen today.  The law can't touch mighty Field-Marshall, so save yourself from sure future calamity.  This infant is not worth the serious trouble which it could beget, not only for you but for us all."

"Nonsense; no one is above the law!" Zukan had exploded.  Ordinarily a mild-mannered nobleman, he had regretted this outburst immediately and thus added calmly, "I'll deal with this in my own way, you will not be involved."

As a man of integrity and chivalrous character, the venerable Zukan Rurik Korvald had delayed his departure from this region thence, in order to appear before the local Magistrate, named Luoki, to demand justice for two unidentified, dead peasants.

 Magistrate Luoki and the other prominent local authorities, disgruntled atop quaking with fear, had shown reluctance, furthermore, banding together had done their best to discourage Zukan from this dangerous pursuit.  Discreetly, and unofficially, the scholar was counseled to leave well enough alone and was again told that Field Marshal Zakhertan Yozdek was too powerful a man to offend.

“This misdemeanor,” as they called the murder of two peasants, who were obviously also strangers to the region, “was too light a charge to even think of summoning Field Marshal Zakhertan before a rural court to give account.”

 The Magistrate had, meanwhile, wrapped up the case quickly and efficiently, after his subordinates had obtained (secured) false evidence from the boatmen and his crew, all of it substantiating the final verdict, the pronouncing of the couple's death, a deliberate act of a double suicide.   

Outnumbered, Zukan Rurik Korvald’s protests had, via other measures, been totally curtailed; he was rendered powerless to beget any justice for the innocent victims. In this way, though, local authorities and the deemed ungrateful Zukan Rurik Korvald, were shielded from the certain future wrath of Field Marshal Zakhertan Yozdek.

The matter thus summarily settled; the Magistrate Luoki demanded next, that the child be turned over to the authorities for his proper disposal.  Rather than surrendering, however, Zukan and his servants fled the area under cover of night.

Later Zukan had sent a trusted aide back to the region under disguise in order to make discrete investigations into the identity of the victims and about any prior (erstwhile) links (relations, possible family, contacts).  When this effort proved to be in vain, Zukan had embraced the child as his own and, since he was himself childless, named the infant Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Quite discontented with the rampant corruption under Zakhertan Yozdek's growing power, observing how the Field-Marshall’s hands gripped the nation's neck, choking tightly until the pulse ceased its flow; the indignant (aristocrat) scholar Zukon, had eventually been constrained (forced) to become a recluse.

Zukan's peaceful domain was so completely insulated that it allowed no outside infiltration at all.  Fradel had grown up perfectly schooled in literary skills and religion, cocooned in this tranquil atmosphere, oblivious to the harsh realities in the so-called civilized world outside.  The truth about his parentage was revealed to him only at Zukan's death bed.  Unfortunately, before the three years of mourning for the venerable Zukan Rurik Korvald was over and Fradel had fully explored his avenues of vengeance against Zakhertan, Fradel had been summoned to court.

Fradel at this point, falling silent, had pensively looked away beyond the curtainless window, to observe the night sky dotted with blinking stars.

"It is as I had expected,” Svein (Nevetsecnuac) just then rejoined with fire in his eyes, startling Fradel from his ephemeral brooding (ruminating).  "We share the same purpose, you and I.” Svein smiled and then nodded. “It may have started as a personal vendetta, but it has now gone far beyond that, hasn't it?"  Svein, next, answered Fradel's silent query. "Yes, my parents and all my family, too, were cruelly murdered by Zakhertan Yozdek."

Fradel gazed at Svein nonplused, realizing only then that, despite the intense and extensive interchange that led them to the brink of becoming sworn brothers, he still knew virtually nothing of Svein's background.  How far can I hinge on this blind faith?

But before Fradel could give voice to his thoughts, Svein inquired directly and with sincere concern, "Your courage and aim are both most commendable, Fradel; and I don’t wish to give offense, however, it is obvious that you lack both knowledge and skill in pertinent strategy, medicine, toxins or Martial Arts.  How do you propose to best (assassinate) this most formidable foe Zakhertan Yozdek? Lest I miss something vital, may I be permitted to learn of your plan?  Besides, I doubt that you have ever killed an animal, let alone a human being."

"You are quite correct in your supposition.” Fradel replied coolly.  "I've always been opposed to the taking of life.  I've espoused the philosophy of Zuox which holds that 'All life, its form and expression, is sacred.  They must be cherished and preserved.'  But that hardly applies to a villain like Zakhertan, a monster arrayed (clothed) in human form.  I'm well aware of the past, unsuccessful, numerous attempts on usurper Monarch's life.  Though I have comparatively little fighting ability, this inadequacy does not deter me from my noble aim.  I have the will, and I am prepared to die to attain justice for my parents and for my countrymen.  The monster must be made to atone for his crimes."  As he vehemently expressed his hatred of Zakhertan once more, he grew quite flushed, his ears burned, and his voice grew hoarse.

"You have echoed the sentiments of my own heart.” Svein responded thoughtfully when the other fell silent.  "But, Fradel, this is no small task, and it should not be taken lightly.  I, at least, was trained and conditioned since childhood for such a purpose while you were not.  Every fabric of my being stands in readiness for this fight.  Far be it that I should deter you from your just cause, but I fear that your noble attributes, exceptional courage may not be enough; why, then, should you throw your life away?”

"No.", Svein waved a dissenting hand to still the retort forming on Fradel's tongue.  "Please hear me out first.  A man can only die once.  All that I ask is that you postpone your vengeance until I have had a go at it first.  In the event that I should fail then it will be your turn.  By then, perhaps, you would have attained the necessary skill and be able to succeed where others before you have failed."

"I know that you mean well, Svein, and I will certainly take your words under advisement.” Fradel stubbornly replied.  "Still, being the least likely person to attack the Monarch, I would have the element of surprise on my side and may be more likely to inflict a mortal wound on him.  He is on his guard with formidable men (civil or military) with fine physiques, wary of fighters of all sorts (male or female), dissident scholars or any citizen with adverse views.  But he would never suspect a nature loving recluse such as I.  I’m aware of the fact that his elite security has checked me out thoroughly."  Fradel stopped and went over to his luggage and began rummaging around inside.  Finding what he sought for, he withdrew an antique-looking writing brush and presented it with a flourish.  "Besides, this provides me with the perfect means of killing him."

Suppressing a chuckle, Svein queried, "And how, may I ask, do you propose to use that?  However, genius a contraption, a concealed weapon in the form of a brush would be detected at once.”

Ignoring Svein's obvious misgivings, Fradel smiled wryly and pointed the bristles of the brush towards the headboard.  Instantly a small metal dart buried itself with a twang half-way into the wood.

 As Svein went to retrieve the dart, Fradel removed a small, wooden box from his pocket and opening it, announced, "This is no ordinary ink box.  It contains the highly noxious ink that can paralyze the heart within seconds of coming in contact with the skin.  Loading the brush for writing laces the tip of the dart and a concealed trigger launches it.  This trick should bring about Zakhertan's destruction instantly. “

“I most certainly will be searched for concealed weapons before I'm brought into his presence, but they would not take away the tools of my trade; I need these to fulfill my purpose in being summoned there.  I ask you; would anyone suspect the simple writing implement of a non-political, scholarly recluse?"

"It seems you’ve given this a lot of thought.  And admittedly it’s the most ingenious device. The barbed dart is most cleverly camouflaged as one of the bristles.  Now suppose you are fortunate enough that it does escape the meticulous scrutiny (search) of the elite security. But the target may not be such an easy one to hit.  Zakhertan Yozdek is renowned for his military prowess; he's reportedly unsurpassed in agility, strength, and cunning.  Moreover, he might be wearing under his court vestments, light metal armor (cuirass, shield); you, taking that into account, no doubt plan to aim for his neck, hand or face. Nevertheless, with his incredible reflexes he may still successfully elude the dart and what then?    Have you an alternate plan to follow in this one's wake?"

"No!” Fradel stamped his foot in vexation.  In truth, he had not configured every possibility, and, Svein’s points had certain validity.  Going against such a formidable foe he should have devised a more plausible secondary, even a tertiary plan to fall back on in order to ensure his success.  He sat down to ponder with a sinking heart.

"Do not lose heart, brother, for I shall not fail.  The monster's days are numbered."  Svein lightly tapped Fradel's shoulder in consolation.

Svein's addressing him as "brother" recalled to Fradel’s mind, his earlier resolve.  Rising to his feet, he proposed that, since there were now no obstacles, they should take the oath of brotherhood without further delay; after which they could plan at length how best he and Svein, as individuals or jointly, could best serve their cause.  But it was now Svein's turn to (hesitate) show reserve; nevertheless, in the brief silence that ensued, Svein had swiftly resolved his inner quandary.  Svein sincerely addressing Fradel, first asked forgiveness for his prior deception, and then drawing near, in a low voice revealed the name of his mentor, Lord Asger Thuxur Marrow Zhon, and subsequently, confessed to his true identity.

Overcoming his shock, Fradel was about to drop to his knees to show his proper respect, when he was swiftly, courteously, stopped by Nevetsecnuac.  “Since they were practically brothers already,” Nevetsecnuac, same time had reasoned, “such formalities were quite unwarranted.”

"But I, the orphan son of lowly peasants, am unworthy of such great honor.  I cannot hope to ever become the sworn brother of a Prince (Nevtsecnuac Alric Therrain Valamir).” Fradel protested.

"You have now offended me deeply, brother.” Nevetsecnuac frowned.  “I never figured you to be so pompous.  After all that we have shared, nothing has changed between us."

 The emotion filled speech that followed, imbued with such humility and honesty so overwhelmed Fradel that, his eyes brimming with tears, he finally acquiesced.

In the private ceremony that followed, the Prince and the Scholar both fell to their knees facing south.  Voicing their petition to the Heavenly Gods, they swore an oath before them to be brothers for life.  After a small cut was inflicted on each one’s index finger, the dripping blood was then collected in a ceramic goblet half filled with wine.  Taking the cup in both hands, Nevetsecnuac ceremoniously presented it to Fradel, calling him elder brother as Fradel was five years his senior.  Receiving the cup, Fradel drank the first sip from it then, with just as much ceremony, offered it to Nevetsecnuac, addressing him as his younger brother.  After Nevetsecnuac had obliged, the cup was hurled against the fireplace and broke into a thousand fragments, sealing the oath forever.  The (sudden) just then rising winds outside vigorously rattled the shutters as if in shared joy and approval.

Nevetsecnuac and Fradel, now as brothers sat across from each other and toasted to their future success. As they partook the wine, they reminisced about family members and dear friends that could not be there; later still, slightly inebriated, they drowned their sorrows in yet more capfuls of wine. 

During this time Fradel was told of the great deeds and sacrifices of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, Lord Shonne Gulbrand, Lu Moldan and the rest, marveling at their greatness, loyalty and scope of heroic attributes, comparing each to the legendary historical figures.

As the topic gradually veered towards the exacting of vengeance, Fradel asked Nevetsecnuac if he had on him the special ID Permit, a vital official (two-part) document essential in allowing one access to Capital Province Holger and then to Imperial city Channing.

Nevetsecnuac shook his head in the negative, then asked, "An ID Permit? This is the first time I’ve heard of such a requisite."

"Just as I suspected,” Fradel nodded thoughtfully.  "But that's to be expected."  He went on to explain that few officials, never mind influential citizens, were aware of the necessity for such a certificate, even though its use had been strictly enforced by the authorities in the Capital province, Holger, for half a year now.  He recounted how he, himself, would have been caught unawares, had it not been for the Palace Guard's explicit reminder when he'd delivered the summons from the Court.

"I'm afraid that, without it, entry to the Capital is impossible.” Fradel intoned grimly. 

"This strict measure had been put into effect after a latest, nearly successful attempt on Zakhertan's life by a small group of very competent assassins.  I have heard undisputed claims that since then, Imperial City Channing has been sealed like a fortress, allowing no entry or egress without proper authorization.”

It was most fortunate, indeed, that we talked long enough for me to recall this important detail otherwise, being caught at the gate without this official permit; you would have instantly been apprehended for questioning.  Your aim would have been frustrated very early on."

"Then I must act to secure for myself such documents,” came Nevetsecnuac's decisive response.  "Can I rely on your guidance and assistance, brother?"

"You don't understand the degree of difficulty involved.” Fradel shook his head. 

"It's not a question of my assistance, brother; I wish it was that easy.  I'm afraid that these two-part documents can only be obtained at your birthplace and are issued only by the resident Governor for a considerable fee.  You must also produce at least three other notable residents as witnesses.  Even under the best of circumstances, such a process could not be completed within a month."

Fradel drew out the documents from their protective covering of waxed parchment and pointed an explicit finger to the top left corner of one of them where, sealed under gum Arabic, a provincial court artist had drawn the poet's likeness.  Nevetsecnuac's eyes followed, with increasing misgivings and a heavier heart, the list of Fradel's identifying particulars, his physical description, parent's name, age and birthplace and finally, at the bottom, the long trail of official seals.

"Due to the urgency of summons necessitating my prompt departure, the obliging Lord and the new governor, Mojen, spared me the time and difficulty of procuring necessary documentation.  Taking me at my word, they acted as my guarantors and expediently processed the ID Permit with all due haste." Fradel, pensively(thoughtfully), meanwhile, had continued. "Of course, even if I did have the ID Documents of my deceased servants still in my possession,” Fradel interjected, "their particulars are so vastly different from yours that, I'm afraid, they still would have been of no use to you."

Having recently buried the men, Nevetsecnuac concurred with a nod of his head; meanwhile, it had become clear to Nevetsecnuac that without proper verification, he could never obtain, not at any length of time, this kind of vital documentation. 

"What is to be done, then?” he gave voice to his fret (hassle).  "How can I beat this unexpected hindrance (hurdle)?  I must seek another ingenious means to override this serious obstacle." Nevetsecnuac distractedly followed Fradel's bold strides to and for, as the scholar presently paced the room in contemplation.

"But, of course!” Nevetsecnuac jumped up in elation.  "Why didn’t I think of this before?"

Startled, Fradel grabbed Nevetsecnuac's arm.  "What is it, brother?"

"The answer to our dilemma is right before us. The problem has already been resolved by none other than you, brother." Nevetsecnuac responded with a bemused smile.

"Me? How?"

"Elder Brother, it just struck me how similar in appearance we are.  For instance, are we both relatively of the same height and bearing and share similar facial features?  Fortunately, due to haste, the hair and eye coloring were not precise. With a beard, could I not pass for twenty-five?"

"What an idea!" Fradel chortled.

 "I knew there was something about you I liked."  His eyes dwelt on Nevetsecnuac with a new intensity as he surveyed the prince’s features.  "Yes, it is possible." he had to concur.  "I must be getting muddle headed, strange how this simple solution eluded me."

"That's because, elder brother, despite all my previous reasoning you still harbor the desire to press on by yourself.  How stubborn you are."  Nevetsecnuac teased, shaking a finger at him.

Donning a long face, Fradel turned an aimless gaze to the crackling flames of the fire.  An inexplicable sadness just then, gripping his heart.

 

(END OF SECTION 11)

 

THE RESCUE - SECTION 2

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE RESCUE - SECTION 2 

A small game was roasting over the fire when she suddenly came to.

Having regained consciousness and suddenly recollecting the panther, she bolted to a seating position with a start. Her terrified, baffled gaze however, was met with a mitigating, polite smile from a decisively handsome young man who proceeded to speak to her in a soothing, foreign tongue that she did not, could not truly comprehend. His dialect, the enunciations was even varied from that of Kaimu, his wife Ensa, neighbor Zianko or the son Yoansu’s. One thing was clear however the danger/the otherwise certain death from the beast was gone, and the intensions of her presumed rescuer, as far as she could tell with some measure of certainty, were both honorable and good. He conducted himself with proper decorum and seemed to be both knowledgeable and one of fine breeding. Anticipating her thirst, he had quickly provided her with water from a wooden cup, which she partook appreciatively.

 Hoping that he might be acquainted with her native language, presently she voiced her appreciation for the rescue and for his taking such diligent care of her. Then at a loss what else to say and just then noting his quiver full of arrows laid at the side, quickly asked how he happened to be on this God-forsaken Mountain: was he sporting a hunt?

But her articulated responses were sadly, quite mystifying (baffling) to the young man. In the end, the frustrating exertion made more difficult by the mutual attraction, all they had managed were the polite but succinct introductions: her choosing to announce Jiense as her name to this amicable stranger, and he in turn had mentioned the name Svein. The ensued awkward moment of silence nevertheless was cut short, when Svein noting that the meat was about ready, forwent the wearisome communication and going over, and using his long knife skillfully, sliced off some choice pieces from the main body of the skewered meat, placed them onto wooden slat that served as a plate and brought it over to her for her consumption.

“It’s probably not what you are used to, but please partake some.”   He insisted; suspecting they would have a better luck at the verbal exchange on fuller stomachs.

As Jiense was already famished she accepted it gratefully and without ceremony, soon after chewing, swallowing the delicious, succulent meat, not pausing even to ask, or bothering to guess at what manner of specious she was ingesting.

In the aftermath, warmed by the raging fire, and well fed, using a sign language, she had again thanked him profusely for rescuing her from the maw of the panther- this time more at ease, she utilized her innate skills and therefore more effectively transmitted her intent. Then fell silent wondering what had happened to the beast, worst still, what other prevalent dangers lay ahead?

Deciphering her concerns, by means of sign language and hand gestures he hastened to convey to her that he was both a competent and a willing protector and would most certainly deliver her to safety. His reassuring smile was reciprocated, by a grateful one from her. Then all at once both gone bashful, they had averted (lowered) their eyes. That night she had slept blissfully sound, content to be under his care- for even though she had known him for scant period (such a short while), listening to her intuitive heart, she had placed her implicit trust in him and thereon felt more hopeful for the future.

The subsequent day’s journey, hard as it was, it could be said that it was delightfully exhilarating and even adventurous. When she became tired, he offered, insisted on carrying her and that he did, with certain ease, covering great distances despite the steep ascent- all the while effectively shielding or periodically fending off the all-pervasive treats from predatory animals with astounding regularity in speed and skill in archery. Furthermore, at sundown, when they halted, in contrast to her, he showed no fatigue.

If she marveled at his resilient stamina, his competence, his handsome features or many other fantastically intrinsic (inherent) attributes, she kept them to herself noting (observing) his strange but true, humble nature and bashfulness.

Meanwhile, as he had been encumbered because of her needs of shelter and sustenance and his other charge, of hunting for game along the way- it had taken them an additional five- or six-day’s arduous journey, instead of two, to reach their goal.

Their subsequent path took them right through a precarious topography of high ridges, then a dense forest, each leg of the journey being more arduous than the rest. Then at one point, Svein carefully pushed aside the thick foliage that successfully hid an entrance to a deep cavern.

Before they proceeded to inside Svein halting and then withdrawing from his pouch two sun-dried shoots (buds), handed these to Jiense and signaled for to chew to extract their juice. The juice she can swallow, but the pulp, she was made-to-understand, she should spit it out. She did, as she was, told. The taste, a bit unpleasant, was both bittersweet and sour at the same time. Then, as she chewed, a strange sort of sensation came over her. Her head became dazed; she felt a total lack of inhibition, no fear, as though she was now invincible. Svein, seeing the transformation in her, smiled and politely ushered Jiense (Teuquob) into the cavern. Further in, to (manage) cope with the pitch darkness, Teuquob hung on tightly to the young man’s sleeve as latter led the way, navigating the turns and twists of the rocky, unstable, and dangerous terrain with sure footing. Periodically, there would be certain hair-raising echoes borne out of the deep that (despite the effectiveness of the drug) still put her soul in fright; though invisible to her, she still perceived the existence of chasms, noted the divergent sounds of water, some gushing streams, or trickling brooks far in distance or quite near. Then came the fluttering of wings, bats, and many other such phantom sounds along the way, which unleashed her wildest imagination and sent icy chills up her spine, all the while gripping her heart in an inexplicable fear. At such times, sensing her trepidation, he would abruptly stop and seek out her hand, then gently squeeze it with encouragement.

Since entering the cavern, he had not uttered a single word and when once she coughed supposedly to clear her throat from the perceived dust, rather, to get his attention, he’d quickly hushed her by placing his hand over her mouth, as if peril would arise from such action. Thinking that he needed his hearing to guide his advance- better that, than thinking there were carnivorous, nocturnal winged vertebrates or other such scary beast in readiness to pounce on them- she had remained silent from there on.

They had advanced blindly for what it seemed to Jiense (Teuquob) an eternity, with her imagination playing havoc all the while on the summation of all her fears. Halting briefly once or twice they had eaten dry rations which he had on him, and then continued in this dangerous realm. She was relieved when long at last they reached the end of this elongated subterranean tunnel, safest one amongst the perilous two, that (presumably) cut across underneath the majestic mountain peak, and finally exited the cavern. Thought it was typically the late afternoon of an overcast day, it still took a while for her eyes to adjust to the light that greeted them.

After a brief respite, they resumed their journey that led them to the crossing of a stream then another perilous ridge. Then they trudged upwards yet another steep climb, Teuquob in tow of the young man following an invisible goat’s path and whenever the path widened, she would opt to walking alongside him, all the while trying her best keep up. The perpetual increase in topographic elevation however, eventually caused Teuquob to more frequently labor for breath and to succumb to the inescapable fatigue that plagued her every fiber of her being. This impediment forced her resilient companion hence, to periodically make unscheduled stops or simply carry her- an added encumbrance on top of by then accumulated ponderous load- the bounty of game.

On the morning of the sixth day, they had another, endless, laborious ascent. Having traversed yet another ridge, they dove into denser part of the limitless forest and after cutting across a heavy curtain of thick foliage they quite suddenly emerged into a clearing.

Disbelieving her eyes, Teuquob rubbed them and looked on. The unbelievable scene that greeted Teuquob, which she now took in with a breathtaking zeal, encompassed a phantasmal picture that defied all-norm- a safe habitat existing in such remote wilderness?

True enough, there up ahead in that well-tended open space stood an encased structure that contained within its vicinity: a sturdily built wooden cabin with a thin coiling smoke emanating from the tall chimney at its rooftop; off to one side was a modest stable; then a structure of a storehouse could be seen, and yonder still, a smaller hut that clearly served as an outhouse.  A small patch of encircled ground adjacent to the hut was reserved for a thriving vegetable or an herbal garden.

At the dominating structure that boasted of a covered platform/ a small porch by the entrance, there could be seen a seated elderly gentleman with a well-groomed shoulder-length mahogany brown hair. He had a streak of white hair off his temples that gave him a dignified air; he sported a very becoming thin mustache and a neatly trimmed short beard that further complimented the handsome features of his face. His judicious, prudent manner and noble bearing commanded from any onlooker most profound awe and respect; furthermore, to Jiense’s (Teuquob’s) eyes, with his fine, stalwart physique, he resembled more a general, a commander in chief pondering on or contemplating some strategic warfare, than a mere recluse. Dressed in exquisite damask attire (garb), he appeared to be enjoying pensive smoke from a long carved ivory pipe, which he held in his left hand.

The very moment that Svein and his companion had come into view, the esteemed man’s eyes discreetly meeting Svein’s, it could be said that a glimmer of both delight and concern had registered in those stern pupils, but still he had not stirred from his seat.

The youth presently gave an encouraging look to Jiense (Teuquob) as if to say please advance with me, then quickened his pace to reach the steps of the small porch. As they made their advance, upon closer scrutiny she noted that the end of the long sleeve, of his immobile right arm, going through the overgarment’s side slit, was neatly tucked in under a silk belt at the waist.

Svein having quickly unburdened himself of the loads, he now squarely faced his elder, gave a respectful half-bow, and said in a fond, reverent tone, “Greetings, Uncle, I hope you have been well in my absence.”

The elderly gentlemen’s lips dawned a shadow of wry grin- a slight curving of the ends; he thoughtfully took another puff from his pipe then rose from his seat and facing the youth, in a clear intonation reciprocated latter’s affection with a nod of his head, “Greetings, Nephew. Thank you for your regard. The length of your absence had given me a pause for concern, till that is; my ears tracked (detected) you and your willing accompaniment’s slow advance.”     The manner of his voice tad stern and reproachful, his eyes had surreptitiously now trailed onto her.

“Forgive me, uncle”, the youth hastened to explain, “for my negligence in failing to show proper respect.” In reference to the girl beside him, he then quickly added. “I would have made the proper introductions right away; however, as I’m encumbered by the inability of properly communicating with her in her strange dialect, I’d hesitated.”

“I see,” the uncle looked away. “Though I am sure you had a particularly good reason for bringing her along. Later perhaps you may elaborate on the details of how you came by her?”  With a thoughtful air he then placed his long pipe on the small table and descended the few steps. Coming forward to proximity, he succinctly, but astutely studied the extraordinary girl draped in fineries that were inappropriate for surviving in the woods. Yet his polite, brief perusal, (observation) had revealed, that other than few cuts and minor bruises on her face and hands, there were no other wear and tear on either the fabric that looked to be damask silk or her footwear. The total absence of normal dirt or the least amount of dust on her garments further intrigued him.

Discerning his uncle’s thoughts, the young man nodded. “I have been baffled by that too uncle; clearly her attire bespeaks of supernatural element. Yet she is, and all during, behaved every bit a mortal being.”

“Does this mortal-being have a name?” The uncle then asked in a voice devoid of any emotion.

“Begging your pardon uncle, but as far as I can tell, she is called Jiense. Yet her spoken dialect had born little, if any semblance to the mainstream or any other Indigenous groups in Wenjenkun. At the beginning of our meeting, we have strived, but in vain, at any sort of linguistic communication…” The uncle’s raised hand had at once silenced the youth (cut short the babbling/inconsequential chatter).

” Hmm…And there is quite a variety of indigenous groups within and bordering states of Wenjenkun; hence, this mystery may not be resolved in the briefest time”. The uncle looking away had mused.

 “I presume you’ve hence communicated by way of sign language?”

The youth nodded in the affirmative.

Hearing her adopted name meanwhile, Jiense (Teuquob) had smiled and raising her head and meeting the old man’s keen eyes now, nodded to him in greeting timidly, then respectfully pronounced her name, Jiense. She had gone along with that name, as she felt in this strange continent it would not bestir suspicion that her true name would.

He reciprocated in kind, by announcing his name to her in a congenial, clear mode. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance Jiense with no last name. As we are extant (living, existent) in this wilderness, I shall dispense with my proper last name Therran and in kind, you may refer to me as simply, Stark.” He had pointed to his chest and enunciated the name again: “Stark.”

Understanding, she had uttered his name with due reverence and bowed again in proper greeting.

He in turn nodded then smiled, acknowledging her polite attempt.

“She is clearly one of fine breeding, which makes it more a conundrum.”

“She will be allowed to stay with us for a while, won’t she Uncle, if not indefinitely?” Svein in his impatience could not stay his tongue.

“You are getting on ahead of yourself as usual,” Stark frowned. “We shall see, meanwhile it would be prudent of us to proceed with caution while taking the necessary progression,” then as if still pondering on the unusual circumstance, he added quietly to himself, “yes best to proceed one step at a time...A seemingly delicate, solitary being of high caliber surviving in the wilderness, hmm!”

 “Deducing from your omitted facts, I assume that you’d not encountered any other being, a guardian, a guide, serving companions or such, dead or alive, within that vicinity!” He paused again to thoughtfully stroke his beard. “Nevertheless, it’s quite rude of us to speak of her, however improbable the ready communication, as though she is not here.” Snapping out of it, he gave a polite nod and simply smiled at her then turned to address Svein. “For the time being at least, please take her to your prior room and allow her to wash up and attain some rest.” 

Noting the emphasis on the word “prior,” Svein smiled and readily acquiesced; for it was only proper that from hence he would be sharing his uncle’s room.      

Turning to squarely face Jiense, Svein signaled for her to follow him; the two then took their leave of the uncle and with Jiense in tow, quickly climbed the steps, disappearing inside the cabin. Opening the far door to the right, Svein ushered the young lady in to a small room that contained sparse, nevertheless elegantly crafted fine-wood furnishings, strategically placed few art objects of rare, intrinsic beauty and ornate, clearly unused bedpan with a lid jutting underneath the only night table.

Her glance (perusing) trailing onto the bed with exquisitely embroidered, immaculately clean silk comforter, had inadvertently lingered. This is a quaint, eccentric luxury to find in a rustic cabin in the woods. She mused. They were not what they seemed.

A polite caught (a clearing of a throat) just then from her companion drew her attention to Svein.

The young man smiling bashfully with a hand gesture indicated to her instead the porcelain wash basin and jar filled with water that was on an antique chest, hanging nearby was the pristine white towel.

Without the use of language, he as much told her to make herself comfortable, but first she may wish to refresh herself by washing her hands and face. This room will be hers from here on; to rest a while and if anything was not to her liking, she was at liberty to amend or discard it.

Svein subsequently going over to the far side, he hastily fetched the small exquisitely carved mahogany and leather hand baggage that had contained his personal spare belongings and private garments. Opening it, he picked up the few others that were neatly folded in a drawer of a dresser to add to it (bureau), collected few hanging by the makeshift cupboard and, after politely nodding his head, quickly withdrew from the room, allowing her the privacy to adjust to her new surroundings.

Svein returned shortly after however, with a tray of tidbits, in case she required nourishment. Supper, owing to the work ahead, could be long time in coming.

Jiense (Teuquob) smiled at Svein fondly- inwardly she was frustrated by her inability to communicate the extent of her gratitude and yet same time, remained absolutely touched by the gentle concern he showed for her welfare.

                                                                                             ~

Svein had no trouble settling in his uncle’s room; once everything was neatly placed, he went outside and begun helping his uncle, who’d already, had a change of clothing, to safely preserve and store the abundant game (the meat) in the smoke house for their future use. They in silence worked quickly and methodically, first by skinning, then gutting and collecting in a special clay pot the entire contents of the innards of each game.

After a brief “Ceremony of Fire,” where invocations/certain prayers were said and the contents turned to ashes were buried deep in the ground, they then carefully washed the reminder carcasses, salted each and hung them over a smoldering fire, smoke, in the shed to dry. Ceremony of Fire was an integral part of the preparation, for their deep rooted ideology (creed, dogma) held the tenet (principle) that an animal’s existence came from the viscera (guts) and in this way, the hunted animal that had given his life for their survival, would be reborn again soon after. Thereof the life-force in the mountain would not be interrupted and the souls of the animals would always be returned to its steward, Rognar, the Mountain God. Rognar appeased, he would hence not hinder the future hunts or visit the hunter with some calamity.

At the conclusion of the requisite work, both Svein and Stark returned to the cabin, fetched fresh set of clothing, and walking alongside again in silence, for Stark did not encourage (even detested) idle chatter, quickly trailed a well-traveled goat’s path to wash up at the cascading icy stream. This mode of cleansing/hygiene had always been quite adequate for the two, but with the furtherance of each step, both  had privately on the side now pondered on the concerns and certain  impending future requirements or requisite adjustments her mere presence would entail- regrettably impinging on many of their otherwise well regimented routines.

Svein was not least bit perturbed by this; he welcomed the portended changes. Same could not be said about Stark however, even though he had thus far kept his views to himself, in truth he had been disquieted by this untoward added burden of a guest that could further complicate matters that were already precarious enough. By rights, his own life should have been long ago forfeited, having already joined with his honorable ancestors in the nether region. The sole purpose, chief reason for the opprobrious prolongation of his existence had been to honor an oath and to fulfill a pledge: to  shield and to prepare Svein for that impending future event, by undertaking the daunting task of overseeing (supervising) Svein’s welfare and education in both fields- literary, political and military. Her presence could be a serious impingement to this objective or (perhaps) a boon to that of which was yet to be determined. Regardless, seeing the definite hand of fate in this, he would albeit reluctantly, accepted this added, surplus encumbrance or, a challenge.

That afternoon, as Svein was left to overseeing to some other pressing matters, Stark, first topped the iron kettle with added fresh water, and placed it on the burner alongside the pot containing meat and vegetables, for it to boil. They would have the ceremonial tea after the gratification of sustenance.

Deeming the time appropriate, Stark fetched the small medicine box, and going over, he gently tapped on her door before entering.

(END OF SECTION 2)

 

                                                                                          ~

 

THE ORDEAL - SECTION 4

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE ORDEAL - SECTION 4

 

Chenko Haken had at first been torn with the urgency of comforting Teuquob; nevertheless, opting to offer his polite excuses he’d soon as he could, hastened out the room after his aunty to bid his final farewells; but alas, the spry old lady was already gone! Not resigned to let it go at that, he’d still rushed his steps in a fruitless pursuit catching eventually a fleeting glimpse of her as she’d darted out the back gate to be shortly after swallowed up by the darkness of the night, with her receding form blending well into the distant shadows. Shoulders stooped, with a lowered head, eyes glistening with tears Chenko Haken uttered his silent farewells and prayers none the less; then abruptly turned to (secure) bolt the door after him. 

He knew he would never see her again. But that was not the worst of it. He feared for the inquisition and many tortures she might be forced to endure as she bought them the precious, requisite time for their successful escape.

Suddenly, quite unbidden, anger set in and turned to rage swelling up his chest at the recollection of the innumerable injustices of their times that had necessitated such sacrifices from gentlefolk. 

Get a grip on yourself. He heaved a deep sigh and unclenched his fist as he quietly admonished himself.  There was no time for such sentimentality. Then his thoughts veered to Teuquob. Good God, I’ve left her all along, poor thing, all by herself in a strange place! More furious now for his negligence, he composed himself and returned pronto to the parlor.

The sight that greeted him, her stoic stance in view of what she faced and might be feeling inwardly, doused (plunged) his heart in shame.   After his respectful address and the subtle words of encouragement, he offered to take her to her allocated (designated) room wherewith she could take in a well-earned rest for the night.

“I’ve left a few amenities there for Your Ladyship’s comfort,” abruptly halting by the door, he’d turned to squarely face her- in the interim barely missing running into her. After a confounded silence, he’d bashfully enumerated the facilities placed at her disposal, ending it with, “but if there is anything further, you’ll require, please do not hesitate to pull at the crimson cord by the bedpost, which will ring the bell in my room and summon me to your presence.  My parents sometime prior have already withdrawn to their country retreat on the assumption that I was to follow them later, at the conclusion of my annual studies and special military training. When my aunt approached me with this worthy proposal, agreeing to it at once, I fabricated an illness and got a temporary leave of absence from the Academy.  Subsequently, as part of the necessary preparations, I took the added precaution of already dismissing all the household and personal servants, on the presumption of my supposed proposed early departure, the yearly excursion inland to the inherited estate of my maternal Uncle. Still, the house is well secured. No intruder can bypass the locks.” In his nervousness he’d babbled on such. Testament to her tolerant and kind nature, she’d with due patience had listened, despite her overwhelming tired state (her overwhelming tiredness).

He turned crimson realizing tad too late, his lapse in judgment; then hastily apologized for the unwarranted delay. As he politely directed her next towards her quarters, inwardly he sternly reproached himself for his thoughtlessness, his shameful infraction and blundering. Positioned slightly ahead of her, his legs, meanwhile, in defiance to his will, had felt like dead bolts, straining at each step. Finally reaching the prepared room, he opened the door and invited her in. At least now more composed, he articulated the appropriate sentiments and well-wishes for her comfortable stay.

After an appropriate time, he was now prepared to take his leave. “Please, Your Ladyship, try to gain some rest.  Tomorrow promises to be a diversion from the norm; it might be exhilarating or be perhaps a most trying day.”  His heart became filled with remorse of having yet again blundered. “What must she be thinking of me?” He looked searchingly into her eyes as if his soul was balanced on the tip of his tongue, but then merely said, “I’ll leave you now.”, and abruptly turned.

There was no effective, cleaver way to salvage his dignity! Her incredible beauty had taken him by surprise. It had both exhilarated and suffocated him at the same time. A surge of emotions, the intensity of which never experienced, had spontaneously yet again taken hold of his being, reducing him to a detestable, bumbling fool. All he could hope for now, was that perhaps tomorrow, after a good night’s rest, he would behave more himself, with more decorum.

“I’m most grateful to you, sir.” He heard Teuquob just then bashfully enunciate (articulate, utter, convey) after him in her sweet, melodious voice.

Brightness beamed from Chenko Haken’s face as he turned back to protest to say it was his privilege to be of any small service to her, that it was not worth mentioning, that his only wish was to see her happy in even the slightest way.  Then he hastily withdrew before he could commit another accidental blunder, bidding her goodnight.

I must pinch myself to make sure that I’m not dreaming, he mused, as his dutiful steps involuntarily led him away from her.  From the first moment I’d laid eyes on her, her graceful countenance, her infinite beauty so enchanted me, so intoxicated my senses, that I dared not steal a glance at her for fear of revealing my innermost thoughts to Auntie Shutizan.  Finally, when we were left alone, instead of shining, quite the opposite, I made such a fool of myself! But perhaps under the circumstances, I may be excused, for it was enough that I curtailed the surging range of emotions that so suddenly overtook my heart, vehemently urging me to make bold confessions of my deep infatuation.  Dare I yield to the wild temptation, the excited passion that so propels me to run back to her and take this most delicate, most exquisite of all creatures into my arms?  My heart is gripped with such longing that it pains me. Still, I cannot betray the trust placed in me…Tormented as I am, I shall conduct myself with due decorum, suppressing, abandoning such wayward emotions to a dream state only. She must never know how I feel!  

Resolved to this grievous loss, he heaved a deep sigh; then raised his eyes to the antique family’s wall hangings (arras) that lined both sides of these corridors.  Their woven warm earth-tones painted vistas of Green Meadows, his maternal Grandfather’s country estate.  The ancestral villa spread itself over the foreground, its whitewashed wings; built when Chenko Haken was young, stretching out in front, protecting the land around it like the forelegs of a recumbent Angora cat.  Undulating hills rolled out in back, acre upon acre of lush farmland and verdant pasture stippled with cattle and sheep nestled within the protective embrace of the manor house. 

His mother and sisters would be there now visiting his grandfather and grandmother.

The year before last Chenko Haken had joined his father at Green Meadows and accompanied him on his many trips around the inland Provinces as he made the financial arrangements that would, at harvest time, fill his harbor warehouses to the rafters with fresh produce.  This time around because of the military training Chenko Haken had been constrained to remain behind in the city for at least till mid-summer; meanwhile he was entrusted with the responsibility of seeing to it that the repositories would be ready for the coming onslaught.  He would join the rest of the family later in season, in plenty of time for the harvest festival and for unbridled fun.

 In the far future he would take charge of the business from his father in the uplands while his younger brother stayed on in the city to tend to this end.  His future and vocation had been precisely (fixed) drawn up; they’d even selected a worthy mate for him from another well-established family and picked out the precise date of the mutually advantageous matrimony. The course of his life that disregarded his own personal wish- for that was not in the configuration of heredity (filial piety) - up till now had been rather mundane and predictable, until that is, his father’s spinster sister, Shutizan, who had been exalted far beyond anything the family could hope for, had covertly approached him last week with her irrefutable request.  From the moment of his ready compliance, his predictable life had been transposed; come what may, he considered himself fortunate, entrusted as such with the care and protection of a living angel.  Nor could he have conceived a more advantageous trade.  He would have mortgaged a thousand futures for just one minute in the presence of such a legendary beauty.  Shaking his head to collect his thoughts, for it’d suddenly struck him just where he was, he chuckled impishly.  Your head is in such a daze, Chenko Haken.  Look how you have walked past your own room.

About turn, he headed back; once through his door he threw himself upon the bed and grabbing hold of the pillow he squeezed it hard then caressed it.  Heaving a deep sigh, he next rolled onto his back and gazed unfocused on the ceiling.

“How could Heaven conceive such an angel?” he asked the thin air in a murmur barely audible.  In beauty and grace truly, she is without equal in this world of mortal men!

For a moment, just a moment he forgot himself, surrendering to that allusive fantasy world that he dared not transcend (have). “Clandestinely, day and night I shall feast my eyes on her lovely countenance, and when we are away in distant lands… dare I hope?” He questioned the air biting the corner of his lip; then lowering his gaze, whispered. “Perhaps I can win her affections… and if providence allows, in due course even win her hand in matrimony?” But then the image of his frowning aunt appearing in his mind’s eye, juxtaposed with Teuquob’s: brusquely brought him back to his senses and he recoiled in bitter remorse.  Wrenched with self-reproach, he groaned: “You are worse than a maggot to be thinking of her in this way, deserving of the worst punishments!  How dare you seek personal gratification out of this tragedy?”

That night restful sleep eluded him as his squirming and gyrating bound ever-tightening knots in his bedding.  Finally, just before dawn he felt exhausted into a short, fitful slumber.

Chenko Haken bolted upright as soon as the morning sun’s rays hit his eyelids.  His thoughts were still full of the beauty sleeping down the hall.  Once again, he stifled (curbed) the eccentric thoughts and the passion that had unbidden risen in his chest.  Instead, he concentrated on bringing the luggage he had packed yesterday down the stairs to the delivery entrance at the rear of the house.  From there it was but a few steps to the kitchen where he prepared a hot breakfast.

When Chenko Haken, tray in hand, finally knocked at Teuquob’s door, he could not help smiling with amusement at the young boy who let him in.  The disguise was truly endearing, dressed as she was in vest and leggings well suited to a scion of one of the Capital City’s wealthier families. However, the black knit cap, a last-minute compromise, was a tad too large and did not quite sit well on her head.  Meanwhile the few wavy strands of light brown hair (with golden blond highlights), that’d escaped to fall down over her flawlessly smooth skin was a sure giveaway, a testament to her delightful femininity having failed also in concealing the sky-blue eyes that twinkled like stars with the excited mischief of a shared secret.

Chenko Haken smiled, finding it easier now to address his own gender; the problem after all, could be addressed later, at the conclusion of breakfasting. “I hope the accommodations were adequate enough to have allowed you a restful sleep, however brief, My Lady.”

“Under the circumstances, I slept quite well, thank you.  Besides, I’ve always been an early riser.” Looking at the tray Chenko Haken was carrying, she politely protested. “But you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. A light fare would have been more than sufficient.” In truth, filled with anticipation, her stomach in many knots (as though bolted shut); she feared that she’d be unable to eat a single morsel (crumb).

“Please try my Lady, for you need to build up your stamina for what lies ahead if not the voyage.” Smiling, he urged her to partake some.

He was so sweet, especially the way his cheeks burned betraying his bashfulness, (contrasting) in defiance to his authoritative tone and forced composure.

Well disposed, she therefore put forth the best effort and partook some, so as not to give offense. When it was all over, the awkward moment’s silence came to an end when Teuquob pushing the tray aside, abruptly stood up. After a little twirl, she coyly asked, “Well, you’ve kept me in suspense long enough; will I pass?”  

Having had sisters, Chenko Haken broached the subject delicately.  After a brief fix up of the problem area, he took a step back and with a broad grin gave his approval. “Now you look the part my Lady! No danger of disclosure. From hence, I shall be most proud to introduce your Ladyship as my most handsome younger brother.” Fearing that his words had been tad too brazen, Chenko Haken’s cheeks flushed crimson, and he hastily lowered his eyes.

Most handsome younger brother! After mulling over the sentence and its connotations briefly, “Then it’s settled.” Teuquob’s abrupt, serious tone drew back his now questioning glance. He had given offence. ...  But she was smiling?

Her lips curved upwards in broader delight; with a beaming face, she shook her head. “Nevertheless, it would not do for such close relatives to stand on formalities.  We shall henceforth, elder brother, dispense with them.”  It was part assertion, part request and Chenko Haken took it with the good grace that it had been given (intended). 

Bowing at the waist after an elaborate sweep of the hand, he ejected. “Your wish is my command, my dear, mm, young brother.”

She pursed her lips as if in remonstrative displeasure and maintained her composure, till both burst into hardy laughter.

“How shall I address you from here on?  I mean, have you perhaps a preference to a specific name?”

She nodded, “How about Sunse…I’ve always been partial to that name.” The words tumbled from her mouth without hesitation.  Then, noting the slight darkening of his demeanor, Teuquob qualified her choice.  “It was the name of the hero in Blue Balustrades, my favorite tale.  If the name offends you, Elder Brother, you may choose for me another.”

“No.  No, you misunderstood me.”  Chenko Haken, forsaking jealousy, smiled in relief.  “Sunse is quite acceptable, rather appropriate, as the name conjures up in mind, the perfect image of a dashing young man, a hero of sorts.” He looked away thoughtfully; in fact, he knew of such a person. They were the best of friends till that is their irreparable contention. Not yet resigned to the grievous loss, to date it’d occasionally hunted his peace. His questioning eyes confronting her innocent face, he shook his head, dispersing all negativity and doubt. Then upon a varying thought he added:

“But I still feel awkward being called Elder Brother. I mean it’s improper, for I owe you, my allegiance.”

“I thought for the sake of good disguise we’d already agreed to forgo, to dispense with the cumbersome formalities.” stamping her foot impatiently, she insisted: “So, no more arguments!”

“You are quite right of course.” Chenko Haken lowered his head in polite submission.

“I know I spoke harshly just then, I mean, that’s not the way to behave with one’s elder brother, but all things considered, it is the best way, is it not?” she cajoled.  “Please don’t be too cross with me, elder brother.”

“How can I be?” he responded with a forgiving smile.

The delicious freshness of the morning air greeted them as they emerged from the rear gate.  The sun had yet to clear the rooftops and dew still clung stubbornly to the shaded spots under the eaves.  The cobble stones in the alleyway were turned into a silver mirror, its expanse unmarred by the inevitable carts of that tray’s peddlers and tradesmen.

“Please stay here with our luggage while I fetch us a carriage.”

“Are we going far?”

“No.  The harbor is only a few blocks down.”

“Then I prefer to walk.” she announced with determination as she confidently stepped into the alley.

“Hey, hold on!  You don’t even know the way.”  Quickly swooping up the bags Chenko Haken rushed after her, leaving the gate closed but unlocked behind him.  Teuquob was already beside the neighboring property when Chenko Haken, hastening after her with his poorly balanced load, slipped and fell squarely on his rear, legs akimbo.  His load scattered all about in a starburst of bags and cartons.

“Are you hurt?”  She rushed to his side with concern, “Its all-my-fault!  Please forgive me.  Please say you’re not hurt and that you’re all right!”  Tears glistened in her eyes.

Her anguish made her appear even more enchantingly beautiful but Chenko Haken was too embarrassed to take notice or appreciate the attention she was now lavishing on him.  His whole head was pounding with red-hot blood as he quickly scrambled to his feet. “It’s all right.” he mumbled, hastily dusting his clothes, “and there is nothing to forgive.”  Collecting the bags strewn about, he balanced the load then picked it up once more. “Let’s go.”

Once she knew Chenko Haken was none the worse for wear the comedic picture of just a few moments before sprang to her mind.  She turned her head away demurely to stifle the giggles beneath her sleeve.

Chenko, though annoyed, said nothing and put on a serious expression.  With firm steps he hastened down the hill to the sea. 

As he watched Teuquob out of the corner of his eye his heart once more softened. With the eternal innocence of a child, her eyes scanning, searching this way and that, she was absorbing, assimilating every nuance of things and beings that came into view or flooded the senses.  He was both enchanted and amused by her reactions and unguarded exuberance.  How positively wonderful and refreshing was her naivety, her nature uncommonly pristine and unspoiled; what a delicate a flower she was!

They could hear the bustle of the harbor long before it came into view.  Chenko, a most inquisitive and adventurous child, had practically grown up as a wharf rat; having seen it all one time or another, nothing further intrigued or piqued his curiosity. But observing Teuquob’s reaction and by vicariously now living through her experiences, he found that all the old sounds, once comfortable in their familiarity, had regained their novelty (originality) afresh. He therefore delighted in the undulating work-songs of the stevedores, the staccato hammering of the shipwrights, the bleating, braying, lowing and neighing of the bestiary of pack and produce and the whips and barking commands of their wranglers.  He also took notice, being reminded for the first time in many years, how, like a host of locusts a low incessant hum droned underneath the tumult, as the deals were being made or broken, goods weighed or exchanged, all manner of bartering, the ongoing goodwill or deceit - all in all resurrected in the multitude stores, segments or pits that lined the docks.  When they rounded the final corner onto the avenue that led down from the market, they were greeted by the full morning sun shimmering off the ocean before them, dancing on the waves in sprinkles of cerulean and orange.

Teuquob halted abruptly in her tracks as if she had just walked into a brick wall.  Chenko Haken could see the beginnings of a bewildered smile as she took in the scene of sea and sky, only to be overcome by surprise redolence, making her eyes squint and her nose wrinkle with unexpected displeasure.

Of course!  She was not used to the smells, the pungent odors and the likewise reek; as it were, she was inheriting the full bounty of the harbor’s ambiance, courtesy of brisk easterly winds pushing up the avenue like a parade. 

He chuckled, despite himself and teased. “You had better get used to this quickly, little brother.  It will not get any better when we’re on board the ship.”

“I expect so; however, I’ll adapt to that circumstance as well, as I’m most gratefully, been forewarned.” Her stoic resignation caused Chenko to relent, and he hastily asked to be pardoned for his insensitivity. She nodded, her gracious smile filling his heart anew with enthusiasm for the anticipated adventures ahead, as his feet in accordance, picked up the pace, with her in tow, towards their destination.

The sturdy merchant ship Silver Dreams had been tugging impatiently at her moorings for the past three days but this morning the ropes hung in graceful arcs as she rolled lazily like a beast after a heavy meal.  Her hold had been stuffed with the products of Kontu’s thriving textile industry: fine silks, brocades and lace packed into countless trunks and roll upon roll of tapestries and carpets stacked over and around them like so many logs.  Only one space was left empty; the tiny cabin that was to house the small group of merchants who had invested their fortunes in the items stowed below the decks.

Chenko Haken had encountered one of those merchants two days prior, a well-endowed, burly young man called Beko, attempting to resell a fine breed of yearling horses which he had (purchased) transported from Korion.  He was in a terrible bind as the would-be original purchaser had reneged from the transaction, having been jailed and awaiting execution on some other serious charge. Chancing on Chenko Haken, who in turn had introduced him to a competent trader that had often had dealings with his father and having gotten a more than a fair return; the grateful merchant had arranged for Chenko Haken and his younger brother to share a passage with them on the next leg of their journey which was to be the island of Luko.  He had introduced Chenko Haken to the ship’s Captain that very evening and there and then Chenko Haken had settled his part of the fare. 

As the expected addition (passengers), no sooner Chenko Haken and Teuquob walked up the gangplank, they’d been greeted with a curt nod by the purser and immediately taken below decks to be shown their assigned space in the cabin. 

A quick perusal revealed several hanging hammocks positioned off to one side; at the center stood a rugged table with years of buildup grease, encircled with some odd crates serving as a makeshift chair; then at the far corner beneath some hefty poles, in a space hastily cleared  two parceled woven straw mats, bedrolls of sorts presumably reserved for the newcomers,  thrown askew alongside a sturdy trunk  and a few other scant amenities, such as barrel containing water with a ladle, an oil lamp and so forth. 

This would be a terrible imposition on her! Chenko frowned, avoiding looking at her, for he could not bear to see the dismay that had to have been registered in those beautiful eyes. But under the circumstances this prudent arrangement was still the best that could be had, especially on such short notice and without arising suspicion. He was astonished however, when he, with a sideway glance looked at her and saw that she was smiling, apparently quite unperturbed by the inferior (humble,) substandard, even squalid conditions (abode, dwellings).

It’s all right really! We’ll make the most of this. Those gleaming eyes, now meeting his, seemed to be saying (conveying) encouragingly.

Chenko Haken, inwardly relieved, with a nod accepted the arrangements and then promptly dispensed a few bronze coins to the scowling, impatient deck hand.

“Tide turns on the quarter.” He squealed (announced) then briskly scampered up the ladder.

“Lots of time for a stroll on the deck,” Teuquob pulled at Chenko’s sleeve now with bursting excitement. “It’s bit stifling down here.”

Chenko Haken’s warning glance briskly suppressed any further outbursts as he led her eyes to the two early arrivals from the merchant group that was now descending the stairs armed with their private possessions. They simply nodded their perfunctory greetings and grumbling under their breath, went over to the far corner of the cabin to stake out their claim- the private quarters further limited now with the imposed addition of these two newcomers. 

“Sunse, need I remind you; this is not a pleasure trip; you must help me put our traveling gear into the trunk here before we venture anywhere.” Chenko’s austere, commanding (stern) tone drew her attention away from the two strangers that were now engaged in an ongoing conspiratorial argument.

His heart and mind laden with fear for her safety and many other such concerns, he’d spoken a tad too harshly; now relenting, he added amicably.  “Maybe we can go up later, after the ship has sailed.”

“Whatever you say, elder brother,” Teuquob complied with all the petulance of a dejected sibling.  She was soon distracted, but her mood remained unchanged, when the other eight members of the merchant group bustled into the cabin, already caught up in an animated discussion.  The sailors trailing them quickly set down their baggage next to the line of hammocks that would be the traders’ sleeping quarters for the duration of the voyage then left with empty pockets completely ignored by the party.  If they felt at all slighted, they had no time to wallow in it for the deck above immediately burst into a hive of activity.  Moorings were untied, sails unfurled and with a heave and one lingering creak the Silver Dreams left the slip to ply the inner harbor.

“Whew!” Chenko Haken could not help but breathe a sigh of relief once his back was to the others.  “Cheer up, little brother.” he said, reaching over to pat (gently tap) her over the shoulder.  “For better or worse we’re on our way.”

Teuquob’s eyes brightened anew as hope took hold and she looked wistfully towards the cabin door.

“All right,” Chenko consented with a smile. “When the activity on deck slows down, we’ll venture above for a bit of fresh sea air.  But we should wait until we pass the King’s sentry tower and clear the harbor at least.”  Teuquob caught on.  He did not wish to be seen, and recognized, by anyone on shore.  For the next little while she sat quietly in the corner discreetly observing the interactions of the fellow passengers and patiently awaiting her first glance at the open sea and all its imagined wonders.  

Chenko Haken had busied himself securing their luggage in the assigned trunk. As he looked over his shoulder to briefly check up on her, the pure radiance of her demure face, shining with all her hopes for the future, somewhat dispelled, if only for a moment, all Chenko’s worldly thoughts and cares.  Reminiscent of (like) the fresh breeze blowing down from the snowcapped mountains or off the vast ocean, her expression had instantly dissipated (dispelled, exiled) all pain and misgivings from his heart.

Just then however, out of the corner of his eye he spotted one of the merchants avidly looking in their direction- his attention too held by Teuquob, as if entranced.  The hairs prickled on the back of Chenko Haken’s neck, for the man’s gaze was dastardly- as he, with his dark countenance appeared to be a decided degenerate.

Though society highly frowned upon it, Chenko had heard of some disturbing, loathsome exploits and immoral acts still being carried on, vilely committed, during the long voyages at sea. 

“It should be quite safe by now.” He hastily concluded his task and ventured.  “Let’s start out on the bow and do some sightseeing.  But be sure to bundle up, the sea air is a degree cooler than it is on shore.”

Teuquob was more than willing to oblige as this proposal coincided with the yearnings in her heart; soon they were both ascending the stairs onto the top-deck.  Emerging outside, she’d gazed up at the bright blue sky tinged with wispy clouds, welcoming the refreshing breeze so delightfully caressing her cheeks.

 A moment or so later she stood mesmerized by the activity on deck. To Teuquob’s untrained eye the crew was doing a well-choreographed dance, to the staccato rhythms of the Mate’s commands.  Sailors passed by swiftly, driven by an unknown purpose, seemingly in no hurry, yet once a command was barked there was always someone at the post to carry it out.  It reminded her of the bustling kitchen before a big banquet, only Poekie was usually in the thick of things.

 The husky First Mate stood above the deck on a raised platform alongside the stern-faced Captain, issuing his dictates in a blaring voice as he gazed alternately ahead to sea then down at the hive of activity at their feet.  Beside him the burly helmsman energetically managed the wheel while the third in command stood at rapt attention, ready to dish out the next set of directives. 

Teuquob as if magnetized, had started towards the bridge advancing (Tequob was involuntarily propelled with) her steps in quick succession towards the Captain, only to bump into Chenko Haken who had suddenly appeared in front of her.

 “Let’s go astern, where we won’t be in anyone’s way.”  He saw the question in her eyes and added, “This way, towards the back of the boat.” 

She turned to follow him, and her eye immediately caught the familiar outline of her majestic former residence at the crest of the hill that lay behind the walled city.  Her mouth fell open in amazement.  “It all looks so miniscule!”

 Reality had suddenly struck her, that she was finally free; she was at the outside of that imposing structure, her former prison. Those impenetrable walls, the heavily guarded iron gates that had so effectively kept all life’s experiences from her, were now gradually diminishing in size as the distance between them grew.  A deep sigh escaped from her; yes, she’d attained what she’d yearned for all her life, but many of her friends and retinue were still incarcerated, interned in that dreadful place that regulated their every waking moment, their precarious fate always hanging by a thread, just inches away from certain death and persecution. Though she’d been deliberately kept in the dark, she’d still noted how within the last two years things had degenerated to a far worst state. “Hedenko”, that loathsome name, her intended, had to have been at the root of it all. Dreading the probable consequences for her absence, she said her prayers and fond farewells to each one she knew and loved, yet by the time they had reached the aft railing she was barely a quarter of the way through.  Suddenly her throat knotted, felt as though a chicken bone had been wedged in it and unsteady, she became aware of the heaviness of the air going into and out of her lungs.

She turned to Chenko Haken for help then noticed the moistness at the corners of his eyes. 

His mouth was silently forming the words, “Goodbye Auntie Shutizan.  Oh, I can’t even bear to think of the alternative….!” His face somewhat contorted with the terrible inner strain; he chewed on his lower lip. “I sincerely hope that despite your dire predicament, by some miracle you’ve escaped all consequence. My prayers, thoughts and affections shall be with you always.” 

Recollecting anew her trusted nurse’s kindness, her bravery and her supreme sacrifice Teuquob could not resist her swelling emotions; she let out a mew like a hurt kitten as the tears streamed onto her flushed cheeks.

                                                                                         ~

 

END OF SECTION 4)