LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 3

The two combatants first bowed to each other in respect then assumed their combat positions.  Zonar formally reissued his challenge and, Nevetsecnuac with the understanding that this may precipitate his swift end, formally accepted it.

01- FIGHT BETWEEEN NEVETSECNUAC AND ZONAR

Preliminaries over, without another word, in lightning speed both simultaneously launched their deadly assaults.  The fearsome battle that followed displayed the most brilliant feats of arms. Earth and the heavens quaked at each encounter as clear blue lightning shot upwards at every meeting of their blades.  So swift were their moves that only a shimmering iridescence betrayed the presence of the swords, and the air throbbed to the beat of their whirling blades.  The death-defying attacks, and counter attacks continued without end; back and forth they moved as they ceaselessly fought innumerable rounds while the sun took its slow, lazy journey across the sky.

In Zonar's lifetime none, however competent, had survived the first encounter, the first clash with him.  He had commanded great armies, vanquished many seemingly invincible foes yet Nevetsecnuac, with his gentle disposition, could not be kept at bay, let alone be bested. Zonar was secretly elated that his nephew (who bore some likeness to his dead sister) showed such promise. Nevertheless, he’d quickly curtailed his wishful hope knowing the terrible odds, the ultimate challenges outside of mortal realms, Nevetsecnuac would one day face!

02- PORTENDED FUTURE BATTLES WITHIN THE RALSMS OF IMMORTALS

Zonar  Kuntzu shook his head to purge the unsolicited parade of somber images from his mind, reminding himself that he’d already defied many sure prophesies; and he inwardly pledged self (swore an oath) to face this danger alongside his nephew, as well, to do all that he can to aid (assist) Nevetsecnuac, in fulfilling his rightful destiny. Meanwhile, on the outset, Zonar had fought Nevetsecnuac ceaselessly, still evaluating his nephew’s fighting prowess (competency, proficiency) and, taking stock of the areas of deficits (shortfalls, lacks) that may hinder his progress or his (future) eventual sure success.

 Incredibly, even after more than hundred bouts (rounds, sessions) of fighting neither of them fared any the worse or gained the advantage, for they were adeptly matched (despite disparate age and experience) in both skill and ability. Zonar made a mental note to one day thank Lord Asger for his excellent tutelage (expert coaching and guidance) of Nevetsecnuac.

Just then, in the thick of the battle, nonetheless, the unthinkable had happened.  Zonar's blade, meeting a calculated force at an angle, flew out of his hand and sliced across the sky to land far in the distance. Swiftly Zonar swerved to escape the path of Nevetsecnuac's sword and somersaulted out of the circle of combat. Zonar then literally shot up into the air as if catapulted, to land squarely on the crest of the hill.  His left hand clasped the just then exposed amulet (hanging from a chain around his neck) as the strange blue-green light emanating from the talisman which had then engulfed the frame of Zonar, momentarily blinded Nevetsecnuac.

03- ZONAR'S AMULET IS EXPOSED

When Nevetsecnuac’s vision was restored, he witnessed in amazement the light, now partially dimmed, still shooting across Zonar's chest to the tips of his right hand, which stretched upwards to the sky.  White vapor made luminous by the amulet's light trailed Zonar's hand as he sewed strange designs in the air, muttering an incantation.

When this time he shouted, "Commence!" a sinister black mist rolled from behind him, dimming the sun and mantling the earth and sky in oppressive darkness.  The evil miasma was driven by a strange, biting gale that raced down the hill and swept over the open field to strike Nevetsecnuac. Dust, churned up debris and sand flew at him, thrashing at his face while the quaking ground uprooted trees and sent stones and rocks of incredible size rolling over the ground.

 Nevetsecnuac's tethered, mortified horse whinnied and bolted, straining her reins to the choking point.  From the swirling clouds of dust, debris and sand emerged savage, fearsome beasts, monsters, and giant venomous vipers, some with human heads and other parts.  Rather than retreating in alarm, Nevetsecnuac hacked away at them fiercely, trying to carve himself an opening to reach Zonar who, having summoned his sword back to his hand, was now parachuting down from the hill, his dark countenance making him appear like a demigod.

Nevetsecnuac, wielding his whirling blade, effortlessly brought down a multitude of these manifestations.

04- NEVETSECNUAC COUNTERING ZONAR KUNTZU

 As soon as they touched the ground, however, they instantly reverted back to their original forms, twigs, dried leaves and plants and lifeless insects and worms.  Despite the mounting wall of debris growing to surround Nevetsecnuac, there appeared to be no end to Zonar's intense onslaught.

"That's enough!"  Nevetsecnuac cast aside the sword with disdain and sat down, his back straight as an arrow, cross-legged on the ground.

"This is no measure of a man's strength and skill."  Clenching his fist in the air, blinded to anything beyond the thick curtain of supernatural beings, he indiscriminately shouted his dare, "Zonar, I know you can hear me!  Do your worst but be warned that when you've exhausted your puerile games you will meet your utter, humiliating defeat at my hands!  I have no charms or devilish devices.  My strength is born from within."  Clasping his hands together and riveting his eyes shut he entered a deep trance amid the chaos as the turmoil about him intensified to a fever pitch.

Unlike his prior experiences, Nevetsecnuac was exposed to deep cuts, bites, bruises, internal and external lacerations and burns beyond endurance.  However, he remained totally inert and gradually the spell, which fed on fear, reaction and resistance, weakened.  His wounds healed and the horrendous monsters, phantoms and hideous creatures of man's worst nightmares backed away and each in turn, with piercing shrieks, shriveled up, became transparent and reverted to their original, inert forms or turned to smoke and altogether ceased to exist.

 The gale reversed direction and blew back from whence it came.  Nevetsecnuac opened his eyes to witness the last speck of dust settling and the fog rolling back to expose his temporarily, a much younger self, standing before the blood-curdling form of Zonar, larger than life glowering at him, before he broodingly looked away.

05- NEVETSECNUAC AND, ZONAR IN HIS GROTESQUE FORM

 Subsequently, as Nevetsecnuac reverted to his present self, Zonar's form now diminished, at first with an unreadable expression on his face almost akin to an affection, he with a glint of hope in his eye, turned to squarely gaze at his remarkable nephew. He was not through with his assessment however, and so, "Since our first encounter you have evoked my curiosity." Zonar added sternly, having decided to maintain secrecy a little while longer.

"I see now that I had not underestimated your prowess.  With your resilience and remarkable willpower, you, sir, have succeeded as none had before."  He lowered his weapon and tried to smile.

"Hence, I congratulate you, young warrior, on being the first, to have ever overcome the potency of my invincible magic.  Indubitably you are a worthy opponent, though I would like to see how much further (extent of) your acuity, dexterity and martial aptitude excel. Shall we resume where we had left off?"

Acquiescing, Nevetsecnuac rose to his feet.

"You will do well to maintain this advantage."  Zonar snapped his right fingers, his left hand clasping the concealed amulet, and the sword that had been cast aside suddenly rose out of the debris and flew directly into Nevetsecnuac's hand.

"Thank you, but let’s contest now by another means."  Nevetsecnuac cast the blade aside once more and riveted his defiant, provocative (confrontational) gaze on Zonar.

"You've got gall!"  Throwing his head back, Zonar laughed uproariously.  He was starting to develop a definite, deep affinity for this very remarkable young warrior.

 "Very well, let us try combat without them."  Meeting this challenge happily,

Zonar then returned his own sword to its scabbard and discarded it, not once taking his eyes off Nevetsecnuac.

06- ZONAR DISCARDS HIS SWORD ALSO.

So astounding was the ensuing (hand to hand combat) pitched battle that mere words could not give a just, apt description to it; moreover, the contest lasted an additional day and a half and, after countless rounds more, it still did not, not for a spell, falter in its intensity.

Subsequently, at one point unfortunately for Zonar, in the thick of combat charged as Nevetsecnuac was, his one decisive blow to Zonar's chest, spelled the dire consequence for the latter. The impact of this singular blow was such that, it had cracked the water crystal amulet he’d always worn, into two perfect halves.  As one half fell to the ground, a stunned but unharmed Zonar suddenly leaped out of the combat circle and, staying his hand, shouted a temporary halt to their fighting.

 A mixture of surprise, dismay and anger registered in Zonar’s piercing eyes as they avidly searched the churned ground.  Spotting the fallen piece, he summarily matched it to the other severed half and muttered some incomprehensible incantations to test its power.  Disillusionment and dismay briefly registered in his pupils when he failed to attain the satisfactory affirmation.  The power and the entity within, that he had endured for so long, was no more.

 

(END OF SECTION 3)                                                                                             ~

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 2

Nevetsecnuac’s sleep from then on were persistently harangued by an unusual and oftentimes luridly grotesque dream manifestations supplemented with heterogenous (varied) vernacular sounds and noises.

01-NEVETSECNUAC'S NIGHTMARE

Sometimes during slumber his physical form was unremittingly (repeatedly) touched, jabbed, tapped or stroked by an unearthly entity, which erstwhile (at some point) took on the form of a giant, hairy, slimy (creepy-crawly) caterpillar or insect. As these dreadful nightmares increasingly grew worse, Nevetsecnuac in dream state was (literally) actually attacked (assaulted), or periodically and figuratively chased, by these varied, gruesome, ghastly apparitions.

02- NEVETSECNUAC'S NIGHTMARE

Nevetsecnuac each time had intrepidly, however, stood his ground and fought to counter and even vanquish, these rapacious monsters. Furthermore, every morning he awoke with only minor lacerations (cuts, slashes, scratches), with no strain on his psyche, fully refreshed and in sound grip of his faculties.

                                                                                       ~

The ensuing week, as he rode on, having elected to follow a short-cut route through the desert region, he was abruptly anew, and this time during daylight hours, not once but thrice assailed by the repetitive, whirling dust storms that suddenly erupted out of nowhere (always with such intensity that it threatened to promptly bury both man and horse), only to cease just as swiftly, when it failed to elicit least alarm, or perturbance, from  Nevetsecnuac. (This is not to say, Nevetsecnuac hadn’t quietly wondered about the reasons for this persistent assessment of his innate aptitudes.)

03-NEVETSECNUAC

Subsequent days and weeks many other hair-raising measures were thrust upon Nevetsecnuac but he, possessing nerves of steel had nevertheless remained truly fearless and unperturbed even when encountering spine-tingling myriad onslaughts from incalculable supernatural phenomenon. Nevetsecnuac, with his resolute manner (stance, attitude) hence, robbed Zonar of any satisfactory, perhaps perverse (wicked) appeasement, but when in contrast, the real danger struck, he acted adroitly to eliminate it, incurring a secret awe and a deep respect from his presumed pernicious adversary.

Awakened at down one morning, somewhat groggy because of past night’s disturbed sleep under the stars and the usual, plummeted temperatures of the nighttime in the desert- Nevetsecnuac, eager to resume his journey, had quickly led his steps through the tall grass, to the edge of a small pond (tarn), a rare water source in the desert oasis.  Squatting, he was about to proceed with his morning’s ritual (routine) of washing (cleansing) his face, when his attention momentarily was gripped (riveted) by the transformed image of self. Nevetsecnuac somewhat pensively studied the altered reflection on the placid surface of the pond: gone were the long locks of white, blond hair, his tapered blond beard and mustache. Now instead, a mixt (varied) hue(tint) of dark blond, light auburn saturated those strands. But far from being disconcerted (shocked, unsettled), he instead simply smiled, in approval (gayly) nodded his head, then quickly resumed with his washing up. Subsequently, he rose to his feet and respectfully bowed; then, in a resounding voice addressed the air: “Thank you for your pre-emptive (proactive) favor, for this is a much better disguise for me when I enter the capital city of Channing.”

Indeed, for some time now this had been a silent concern for Nevetsecnuac.

 

“You are exasperatingly Cheeky!” The air trembled with his roaring laughter. “Lest you worry… on the day you fulfill your destiny, every strand of your hair shall revert back to its innate hue. Farewell, till we meet again.” Then after a succession of lightning strikes and thunder, Zonar’s invisible (felt) presence was unequivocally (absolutely) gone.

04- ZONAR KUNTZU

                                                                           ~

 

The arid topography (land) successfully traversed, Nevetsecnuac presently opting for speed and wishing to recoup some lost time (in Denor) incessantly galloped his charger, the strong cavalry horse that had once belonged to Mouro Kerr, into the distance.

Subsequent weeks, Nevetsecnuac nevertheless prudently (sensibly) had elected to stay away from any human habitation (village, town, or city) and despite periodic, topographic or climatic hindrances (encumbrances), they’d still covered vast expanse. Of late the unusual dry spell and hot temperatures had resulted in much discomfort and hardship, especially for the mount; when their arduous journey of the past two days, the meandering precarious path eventually led them to an undulated forested region, Nevetsecnuac acceded to, them taking a brief noon respite. 

Nevetsecnuac retrieved some dry rations and shaded from the scorching midday sun under a huge elm tree, began reluctantly nibbling on these wild roots, berries and recently acquired (game) raw meat, while keeping a close eye on his contented mount grazing on some taller grass little ways off, under another cluster of ancient trees.

But there would be no lasting reprieve for the weary.

Out of the blue, a thunderbolt from the cloudless sky suddenly struck setting the grass ablaze around Nevetsecnuac’s immediate perimeter.  His horse, grazing outside of the ring of fire, whinnied, and bolted in fright but, strangely enough, did not run very far away. Despite being walled by the raging flames shooting up to the Heavens, Nevetsecnuac unperturbed remained seated and donned a broad smile; then provocatively he thrust the meat skewered on the end of a stick, into the crackling, smoldering flames and exclaimed with delight:

 "Your merits (traits) were sorely missed. It's very good of you, sir, providing this cooking fire, but you needn’t have gone to all that trouble."

Instantaneously black clouds congregated overhead and, within seconds, Nevetsecnuac was drenched to the bone by torrential rains.

"A shower, too, to wash off the grease and clear off the smoke from the air." Nevetsecnuac good-naturedly chortled.

 "Really, sir, you are too kind."  Then, rising to his feet, he gallantly bowed low in thanks.

Zonar’s roaring laughter reverberated through the earth and the limitless sky; then as abruptly, the deluge (downpour) ceased, and the clouds simply vanished.

As only verification, Nevetsecnuac stood mired (stuck) in a knee-deep pool of water, whereas the ground few feet away remained perfectly dry and parched as before.

The stupefied mare, overcoming his fright, now wearily advanced to slake her thirst.

“Zonar… Yes, you do possess remarkable abilities.” Nevetsecnuac concurred inwardly, a hint of smile (grin) brushing his lips. Next, with an agile leap, he landed on a hillock; as he a proceeded to wring the moisture out of his clothes, he further pondered: “Hmm, he’s so like immortals of ancient parables, possesses such powers to summon at will, nature’s forces.  Indeed, I am most fortunate to have encountered him.  Perhaps he can be persuaded to impart some of that unique knowledge to me, for it will certainly prove beneficial in the furthering of my aim.”

05- ZONAR KUNTZU -

“We’ll see first, if you are worthy.” Amazingly enough, an answer reverberated just then, in thin air.

                                                                                       ~

After this last incident, however, Zonar's presence was sorely missed for quite a while; during which time, Nevetsecnuac periodically wondered what twist of fate kept Zonar away. Meanwhile in anticipation of their next impending encounter, Nevetsecnuac tended to his wounds and lacerations by utilizing natural herbal medicines; hunted wild game and dug up roots for sustenance; as well, kept up with his daily routine of martial exercises. His recovery was phenomenal in its swiftness. Subsequently, having recouped his prior strength and stamina, he opted to traversing the wild and dangerous terrain at increasingly greater speed. 

After a length of time with no serious incidence that would warrant any mention, one morning, at the first light of day, Nevetsecnuac senses alerted him (to a strange hissing sound) to wakeful state to confront a monstrous, most venomous viper with Its large, protruding fangs dripped with paralyzing toxin (that would render the victim comatose until the long, tortured, agonizing end), rearing its ugly head in readiness to strike. Quickly determining that this was not another of Zonar’s phantasms, Nevetsecnuac boldly fixed his gaze on the snake till it was mesmerized.  Then, in lightning speed grasping its enormous neck and tail, hurled it away to a safe distance, all done with perfect ease.  His calm demeanor unchanged in the slightest, Nevetsecnuac then yawned and stood up to stretch his limbs.

Suddenly, bolting out of the blue sky, Zonar planted his feet squarely on the ground in front of Nevetsecnuac. “Well done.”

Seeing who it was, Nevetsecnuac smiled and bowed cordially, "I've been looking forward to our meeting, sir. “

In a favorable mood, Zonar returned the greeting and confessed, "I, too sir, have been eagerly anticipating this reunion.  I trust your wounds are completely healed?"

"They have been for quite some time now, thank you for asking." Nevetsecnuac nodded.  "Though there really was no real reason for the delay."

"For the true test there was." Zonar countered, grimacing coldly.

 "Your countrymen are unworthy of my consideration, save for the one I will soon kill.  Yes, it has been my intention from our first meeting to challenge you in combat.  Your skills are superb, even though you disguise them well under that seemingly passive, gentle exterior."

"I only hope I may prove worthy of your high praises and prove not to be too much of a disappointment to you." Nevetsecnuac smiled modestly.

"You have not disappointed me yet." Zonar smiled icily.

 "But enough of these pleasantries; now sir, I ask you formally, where and when do you wish to enter into combat with me?  You may have until noon to reach your decision."

"Why postpone the inevitable?  This is as good a time and place as any."  Nevetsecnuac bowed courteously to initiate the combat.

"Not so fast!" Zonar held up his hand to stay the fight.

 "I, sir, prefer combat with swords, as I suspect you do too; therefore, I have taken pains to construct a blade for you of equal quality to my own. If you are worthy, the first time you use it the blade, it will for a spell, glow iridescent blue. It is a magical sword which will, when not in use, shrink, and transform into shape of a writing brush. When you inwardly invoke the word: Lohcnilik it will instantly transform into a sword which is now before you. To summon it back to the state of writing brush, you simply cogitate (reflect) on the word: Lomelak.”  Zonar paused at this point to cast Nevetsecnuac a broad, daring smile. 

06- ZONAR KUNTZU - 2 (13)

“If you survive your combat with me, you may consider it an advance gift. And always keep it on your person; one day it will be of use to you when you confront your arch nemesis. Now let’s see how well you’ll fare in contest (of swordfight) with me.” As he said this, he’d just then hurled (in lightning speed) the second sword, still stuck in its scabbard, to Nevetsecnuac.

 It shot up into the air like a lightning bolt riding the wind.

Nevetsecnuac reached up and grabbed the hilt, letting the scabbard sail past.  Studying the blade carefully, he nodded in approval, "Remarkable construction."

Zonar was pleased to see the blade’ flashing for a spell, iridescent blue. What he’d left out in his speech earlier was that, if Nevetsecnuac had not been deemed worthy, the blade would have turned instantly red-hot and singed (scorched) not just the hand but the entire body (of the mortal) to a crisp.

Zonar nodded and grinning, replied: “Quite right, it’s decades far along your country's technology; furthermore, this durable blade will cut through solid rock as if it was but tender flesh."

“Now let us begin.”

 

(END OF SECTION 2)

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 31

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 31

On the appointed day at cockcrow the quiet city streets were rocked by the marching of armed guards, some decked out in full armor as though going into battle, and the rumbling, creaking crunch of the heavy iron mobile cage, hauled by two sturdy workhorses.  Heading up this procession was the mounted Hecun.

01- PRIONER TRANSPORT IN IRON CAGE

 The few vendors who opened up shop early rubbed their sleepy eyes and complained then craned their necks and sharpened their stares with interest when they awakened to the procession's significance.

 The barking of a stray dog accompanied the guards until a cast-off broom whisk landed on its muzzle and sent the beast scurrying off with sharp yelps.

 Leaving the gates of Denor City and the stir they had created behind, the long train forked off from the major highway and continued its snaking route through the undulating hills and valleys surrounding the city.  Hecun drove his men relentlessly, hastening them towards their destination, fearful that the prisoner would not survive a long ordeal.

The summer season was almost at an end and the gusts of easterly winds often arose out of nowhere to thrash the faces of the horsemen as the mounting, dark clouds sailed on continuously like an endless armada of war across the gloomy sky, driving the sun away into hibernation.

For the next two days the torrential rains soaked them to the bone as the uneven, slippery mud paths compounded the difficulties of this already arduous journey.  Any idea Hecun had of a swift advance was soon discarded.  The flat lands were turned into seascapes and in the bare hills the greatest danger was from sudden mud slides, which could bring half the hillside down onto the road in seconds.  Hecun's party apprehensively passed through this dangerous zone, too, until the rain tapered off to a light drizzle.

Looking out across the long, sodden grasses that flanked their path laid low by the weight of the water on their leaves then turning his gaze skyward to the menacing, mounting clouds roiling in the gray sky, threatening to begin the deluge anew, the Head Bailiff Hecun sighed repeatedly.

“This is possibly the worst season to undertake this journey,” He grumbled. “Heat on one hand, torrential rains on the other.” 

His dismal thoughts turned to the prisoner, locked up in the cage, it only opened a small hole in the upper left side which allowed food and water to be dropped in.  Shrugging his shoulders dispassionately, he mused, “He's the only one shielded from this blasted rain, but at what cost?  Confined in that restrictive, suffocating space, rotting in his piss and excrement…  Thankfully, I’m not that wretch.”

He stretched his limbs in appreciation. “That stupid Temple…  That trespassing charge is unwarranted after all this time.  Why not petition His Royal Highness to have that unjust law rescinded or amended?  Or just has the cursed place leveled or scorched to the ground so that it can't entrap or injure anyone else?  How many more lives will be wasted needlessly because of it?”

Hecun inhaled deep. At least the rain had finally stopped. As he rode on, his thoughts once more reverted to prior concern.

“How many times have I sounded out my reasoning to the Prefect… time after time without success?  He just turned a deaf ear to me.  It's all too convenient for him, isn't it, to keep things just the way they are?  After all, if he were to heed my suggestion, he would be hard pressed to fabricate another trap to rid himself of his enemies or other unwanted pests so conveniently.  I was a fool to even waste my breath.  Things never change.  It’s the same everywhere.  I really should try to mend my ways and still my tongue; I should be more like Mouro, so as to avert future disasters. Would it work if I utilized akin underhanded means as Mouro? I wonder though, how many more innocent souls like this scholar will be ensnared in future; how can I idly stand by and do nothing about it? Would my conscience (ethics) let me? “

But then Head Bailiff Hecun suddenly became aware of disturbance at the rear of the column.  Wheeling his horse round, he shouted, "What's all the commotion about back there?  And why aren’t you moving?"

"Look, sir.  Look!"  One of the panic-stricken guards pointed left to the menacing, fearsome mounted warrior figure at the hilltop.

Turning his head, Hecun looked up at the indicated spot.  His soul nearly took flight.  This was the sight he most dreaded seeing.  Mounted atop a black coal horse, standing like a crown on the crest of the hill, was the majestic, formidable figure of Zonar!

Swallowing his fright, Hecun dispensed the orders at once for the men to surround the prisoner's cage, draw their swords in readiness of a strike, and make haste to the more defensible ground to the right.

"Remember men, despite his formidable appearance, he's only flesh and blood.  He can be bested, just like any other mortal man." Hecun shouted his encouragement along the way.

"He's also pitted against two hundred of us.  We'll make him taste a bitter defeat if he dares to attack us.  We'll show him what we're made of!"

These men (guards) were all hand-picked by Hecun and Mouro to ensure the success of this assignment.  All were seasoned warriors, capable of either mounting a strong, sustained attack or fighting a pitched defense with equal ease.

02-  ZONAR

Irrespective of this, however, the foe facing them now looked so menacing, struck such awe into their hearts that, as they assumed their defensive positions and waited for the dreaded confrontation, many once proud warriors entertained thoughts of dropping their arms and fleeing (running off) to safety, but all knew that at the first sign of desertion they would be cut down by Hecun or by one of their own comrades.  Even if they succeeded in their cowardly flight, they would be wanted men forever forsaking their homes and host of loved ones, the parents, wives, brothers, sisters and children who depended on them.

“What's he waiting for?” Hecun nervously tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword when the anticipated rush of the assassin still did not come.

“What’s his game?  Is he waiting for night to fall?  It may well be his tactic to wage war on our nerves first.  It would therefore be to our advantage to combat him now, while the morale of the men is still high.”  With this in mind Hecun, loudly reviled Zonar from his safe distance, challenging him, trying to draw him into a fight; meanwhile, emboldened by Zonar's lack of response, his men also joined in with added verbal abuse and taunts.

 “What, still no response?”  Though he had been tempted, Hecun knew enough not to divide his force and initiate the offensive when the opponent held the high ground. Instead, Hecun quickly dispatched four of his archers, armored with overlapping plates of laminated bronze which gave maximum protection and freedom of movement, to (in roundabout way) get closer to Zonar and let loose a volley.

The remaining men watched in horror as, the arrows loosed straight at his chest, Zonar swept his hand in front of him with lightning speed, caught the arrows and, using no bow, launched them back full force through the armor and into the hearts of the hapless archers.  As his black steed reared up, Zonar let loose an earth-shaking, ear-splitting laughter.  This made the hair on the back of all the guards’ necks stand up as their blood simultaneously froze in their veins.

The next moment, in an unexpected move, however, Zonar had wheeled his horse round and in the blink of an eye disappeared from view.

Far from being relieved, every man in the command had realized in that instant that they would not stand a prayer of a chance in any direct encounter with this demon.  And that they were, for the time being safe, so long as Zonar was only toying with them.

In the following days and nights, the guards kept up with their constant vigilance (did not dare drop their guard for one second) and in securing the prisoner; consequently, they were robbed of least respite and peace of mind.  On (perpetual) assiduous alert, every guard with taut nerves constantly panned the surrounding hills, the vast fields and valleys with fear filled eyes, anticipating and dreading the imminent mortal encounter with Zonar.

A few of the more disgruntled were in the process of conspiring to mutiny, to murder Hecun and turn the prisoner over without the least resistance, when Zonar again suddenly (appeared) manifested but after a spell, just as quickly disappeared. 

 

                                                                                      ~

 

As Hecun's guards had remained on high alert pending a surprising dire onslaught from Zonar, Micen Do back in the comfort of his study, had just settled down to, forsaking the tea, enjoying some delectable salty tidbits on the tray. His mind totally at ease, Micen remained quite certain that he had, with his brilliant ploy, outmaneuvered the grizzly-haired demon.

 It was the middle of the afternoon on an unusually hot day and Micen, now feeling parched, just put aside a document he had been studying, looked up and was about to send for some cool refreshments when, “What the devil?”

 In a chair at the far corner of the room, casually seated and reading from an ancient scroll, sat Zonar; this sight instantly, therefore, froze the subsequent words on Micen's tongue.

Though Micen was mesmerized by fright at first, the casual, indifferent attitude of the assassin, completely immersed in the ancient literature, put the Prefect somewhat termporarily at ease.  He was not reconciled to dying and eyed the door, contemplating which course would be faster, calling for help from the five guards posted outside or making a dash for the door.

03- ZONAR KUNTZU

Micen’s blood turned to ice in his veins when just then Zonar looked up, and their eyes met.  Next instant, before Mucen could utter a single sound, he was cleaved clean through from top to bottom… For Zonar's gleaming sword had cut him into two perfect halves.

As Micen's right half watched with its waning eye, the left side collapsed onto the desk, dispersing a pile of documents.  Zonar instantly recognized Fradel Rurik Korvald's actual identity papers and summons, fallen three-quarters of the way out of a parchment envelope and, reaching for it, disappeared in the last beat of Micen's heart.

The secretary, coming into the room minutes later with some documents, made the grisly discovery and so alerted the household.  The news of Micen's assassination spread like wildfire throughout Denor City and the entire prefecture and all citizens rushed indoors, apprehensive about their own mortality.

 

                                                                                    ~

 

After an arduous, apprehensive trek, Hecun and his guard regiment at long last escorted the prisoner to the border crossing at Danlo Pass.  The disgruntled, weary group finally relaxed their vigil only after they had confirmed, from the border guards, that no person matching Zonar's name or description had preceded them across the border.  Accordingly, they relayed their warnings to the border patrol to be on the alert for such dangerous assassin, and to arrest or apprehend him on sight, if they were capable of doing so.

"You're the second group in five days that has made in depth inquiries after such a person." the border guards professed, scratching their heads.  "However, the others said nothing about him being a wanted criminal."

When Hecun ascertained that they were referring to Mouro's group, he was concurrently, both pleased and offended. He spoke thoughtfully to the sergeant Tubak that was riding alongside him. “It's not like Mouro to be so remiss.  Other, more serious concerns must have preoccupied his mind though, for the life of me, I cannot imagine what they could be.  He never disclosed to me the nature of his urgent task, not really.  But it’s just like him to be this evasive.  Now I think of it, those last two or three days he'd seemed rather more irritable than usual.”

Hecun had abruptly fallen silent at this moment, as he inwardly mused: “True, we've been good friends for a long time now, and I am fond of him.  Still, I cannot boast that I’ve fully understood him.  I know no more about him now than I did when I first met him.  When he was in such desperate straits I did set him on the straight course, welcomed him to my home, and even helped him get that job.  I remember how I watched in amazement as he, always an apt student, fully subdued all opposition and managed to ingratiate himself in the good graces of the Governor and Micen.  He even managed to pull off something I've never been able to do and curry favor with that stand-offish, condescending Luko clan.”

With a twinge of jealousy in his heart, Hecun now disdainfully further recalled how Mouro's ambitious undertakings had paid off.  Within a year's time Mouro, despite his youth and considerable inexperience, had taken advantage of his superior martial abilities, if one believed the official explanation, to bypass Hecun and win the promotion meant for (the Head Bailiff) him.

Annoyed only at first, Hecun, nevertheless, soon realized that it would be more to his advantage to remain on good terms with his new superior, than to become his adversary.

Besides, Hecun had found it awfully hard to refute Mouro's congenial qualities and his gracious side.  He certainly could not deny that Mouro had also reciprocated his previous kindness in full, and countless times had bailed him out of trouble with Micen. 

Mouro had also filled another desperate void in Hecun's life by fitting snugly into the shoes of the bailiff's deceased younger brother.  Hecun now recalled fondly also how, when they were alone, Mouro had respected and treated Hecun as the elder brother, but the closeness had remained chiefly one-sided. Not being the type to bear his soul to anyone, Mouro had constantly guarded his privacy and history even from him (Hecun), letting it be known only that he was born a native of Tenzo Province.

"Five days, eh, this is good."  Hecun, well across the border, was in better spirits and gloated to his subordinate (sergeant) Tubak.  "Why, that means that, despite all the setbacks we've suffered, we've still made pretty good time, especially considering that they're riding swift horses on a straight highway, and I'm pretty certain that they encountered no bandits like we did, or that assassin, Zonar.  Mouro would not have missed a chance to boast of it to those border guards."

"Yes, sir…  We were rather fortunate that he chose not to engage us after that first sortie.  Even so," the sergeant dismally hung his head, "the threat of confronting him again was still enough to drive many good men to contemplating desertion... pity."

"Are you blatantly aligning your sympathies with those cowards?  Their desertion seriously undermined our capacity to confront that gangster Lurin and his lawless bunch!" Hecun stormed.  "Perhaps it was your intention to desert as well?"

04- SERGEANT TUBAK

"Sir ...  I'd never ever considered such a thing!" the sergeant contested vehemently.  "Forgive my audacity for speaking as I did just then.  My thoughts were of Yozder, he was ordinarily a good sort.  Not too long ago he lost his wife in a tragedy.  Now his five young children, the oldest is only nine, are left without any means of support, and only Yozder's invalid aunt to care for them.  I could not help grieving for what will become of them now."  He hung his head, but his sidelong glance at Hecun framed his unspoken question, couldn’t you have, just this once, bent the rules just a little?  Why did they all have to perish?

Hecun fumed, "I'm not such a heartless man as you make me out to be, sergeant, but rules are rules.  The deserters knew full well what they were getting themselves into.  They got nothing more nor less than, what they deserved.”

“Remember, because of them we were all put at risk.  How can I expect strict obedience in the future from the rest if I showed leniency or, worse, made an exception?  Regulations in militia must be strictly adhered to, so that men can feel secure.  Your grievance against me is totally unfounded, sergeant, and I counsel you to think hard before airing your thoughts to me again."  After this rebuke, Hecun angrily spurred his horse toward the iron cage, ignoring his subordinate's gobbed (spat, expelled) apologies.

“That's more than I can say for this poor wretch.  Despite his innocence, he's been ensnared in an unjust law and is now being made to suffer for it.” Hecun grumbled to himself.

 His thoughts then turned to more immediate concerns, “Why hadn’t Zonar struck and vanquished them when he had them at his mercy?  Why had those bandits attacked just after they were through Danlo Pass?”

Hecun recalled presently what he had heard distinctly some of the gang members had said, as they attempted to seize (snatch) the iron cage.

 “But what on earth made them think that we were carrying gold in the cage, instead of a criminal?”

 

Now that they were inside Tenzo Province the general consensus was that the worst had been left behind them, nevertheless Hecun opted for caution and closely followed the course Mouro had charted out for him.

Their subsequent laborious advance took them through difficult terrain, over uneven paths that were often carpeted in vegetation that had withered in the dry heat and choked with debris blown in by the driving gusts of wind.  Beneath their concealment lay a multitude of dangers for horses and riders alike.

Rounding yet another sharp turn, Hecun shielded his eyes and gazed questioningly over the sharp precipice that loomed just ahead.  To his dismay the distant canyon, shrouded in twilight, disclosed no signs of human habitation.

“Was it conceivable that Mouro had miscalculated the details of the supposed settlement nestled in this valley's forest? Their water rations had been getting dangerously low in this high, arid region and there was no reprieve in sight. “Hecun, grimly hence, anticipated even more desertions among his disgruntled guards.

Taking out Mouro's map, he studied it once more.  A small mark indicated the ruins of a monastery close by.

 “Hmm…If there are wells, there will certainly be water there. “

 Hope sprung up anew in Hecun's heart.  Since dusk was fast approaching, Hecun resolved to set up camp at the monastery and so dispatched scouts in three directions to locate it.

    

                                                                                  ~

 

(END OF SECTION 31)