LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 16

 "Once Zakhertan Yozdek had ascended the throne, the ensuing years had been the unparalleled goriest eon (era, age) in history." Hugen resumed his narrative (chronicle) after guzzling some more wine.  When he held out the jug for Uyuk to partake some, the latter, however, had declined, saying he had far too much already, that he would abstain for a while till his head cleared a bit, he just needed a breathing space, a respite.  Uyuk had urged Hugen nonetheless, to freely indulge, as the long night after all, stretched out before them.

01- UYUK  (20)JP

Yea, right! Hugen inwardly scorned, despising Uyuk for this unwarranted deceit.  Why feign such weakness?  Hugen knew Uyuk had not reached his limit, not by a long shot…Latter could handle more, quite a bit more.  Hugen knew this for a fact.  Not as much as he can, perhaps.  Still… 

For a spell he considered goading Uyuk until the latter dropped his guard and relented. Then again, why bother, Hugen dismissing the notion, good humouredly shrugged and helped himself to some more wine.

Uyuk, despite his feigned inebriated state, keenly, from the corner of his eye had scrutinized Hugen, for the faint-hearted could not have managed the quantity of strong spirits Hugen had consumed thus far and remained still, maddeningly so, sober. Considering the extreme potency, the wine had cost Uyuk quite a substantial sum; this brand of smooth, fruity blend being particularly high in alcohol content, should have way before this intoxicated/incapacitated the most resilient (robust constitution) of men, but not Hugen! Why was that?

The corner of Hugen’s mouth slightly lifted as if in amusement, anticipating Uyuk’s inner query, and he looked away; fact is, he needed to consume at least four or five times the amount, to be totally inebriated or brought to a happy state; a condition he'd rarely indulged and always had done so in solitude. After a while the amassed consumed quantity, however, had eventually derived some adverse effect; the consequential fleeting moment of light headedness and nostalgic reflections nevertheless, through sheer willpower quickly dispensed (passed), Hugen once more reverted his somber gaze on Uyuk.  His head, his thoughts the product of a cool, calculating mind once more lucid and unequivocally defined, Hugen’s deliberations was again embroiled in the selfsame grave, harsh realities of life. 

What's more, after the subsequent several swigs (mouthfuls) of this fruity concoction (booze), far from being mellowed out, his senses disappointingly instead, had felt tauter (tense, wound up); hence, Hugen disdainfully put the jug aside and, his breathing regulated, he indolently stretched out his limbs. But this did little in dousing the fire coursing in his hot veins, his muscles twitching and flexing in an invisible restless craze, yearning to engage in a mortal combat with an invincible, (challenging)formidable foe.

Affixing his gaze to the far corner, his hankering heart tinged with sadness, Hugen thoughtfully reflected on the multitude, past, memorable combats; there was singular one that stood above the rest, General Zonar Kuntzu, a warrior with indomitable prowess. Hugen had heard much about his fame, his brilliant feats. Unfortunately, Hugen's line of work had kept him always on a different course than the General’s; but once he had been fortunate enough to have been an eyewitness to a friendly combat between the General Kuntzu and another competent fighter. The breathtakingly spectacular fight had ended the same way, with General Zonar Kuntzu being the victor as always.

02-GENERAL ZONAR KUNTZU

Hugen donned an ironic smile on his lips and looked away. How easily General Zonar Kuntzu had bested his opponent!

After that day Hugen had honed his martial skills so that one day, he could try his own luck against the General; however, when finally, his competence was up to par (the equivalence), fate had cruelly intervened to cheat him out of that opportunity.

Inclining his head, Hugen with a blank stare studied Uyuk, thinking inwardly how Uyuk unfortunately presented no such challenge.  True, he had never pitted his martial skill against Uyuk but he had observed Uyuk's ability in combat with others and, though his partner was comparatively good, Hugen had concluded that he could easily defeat (best) him without resorting to draw upon any of his special expertise. There was one thing Uyuk excelled in, however, his ability to... Hugen threw Uyuk a covert look.  Only that, he nodded. Yes, I’ll have to watch out for that.  In a way Hugen was grateful for Uyuk's somewhat amenable company.  At least Uyuk amused him, not like those intolerable, overconfident, superstitious boors whose presence strained his patience and made his blood boil.

Requiring more solitude, Hugen pointedly lent an ear to the howling of the gale force wind and the drumming, pounding of the rain pellets outside.  Oh, the nights are always so intolerably long.  Hugen inwardly moaned thinking, especially for one such as him who was an insomniac. Unfortunately, the pelting hail outside was a good deterrent for a long, brisk stroll, which was what he most desired at that moment.  Resigned to stay put, he shifted his weight to get more comfortable then, once more, somberly resumed his narration where he had left off: "Yes, we weren’t the only ones who’d suffered from his rancorous (malicious, spiteful ) wrath; all who’d tried to undermine or obstruct Zakhertan Yozdek's aim, all suspected loyalists and dissidents in Wenjenkun, were vengefully rooted out, vanquished or incinerated." 

Hugen’s eyes met Uyuk's gravely and he nodded.  "Furthermore, all who griped or raised even the slightest discourse of his harsh measures, among them countless brilliant scholars from various backgrounds, the nobility, courtiers, religious personages, priests, sages, hermits, even the stray beggars; all without exception were persecuted relentlessly and tortured before an ignominious death. The countryside, hence, is dotted with a multitude of man-made pits of death, sepulchres and catacombs where Zakhertan’s countless past and present enemies are all buried.”

Hugen paused for an effect and then resumed: “There are also hidden subterranean chambers of torture, (constructed) in Channing, equipped with abhorrent, specially designed instruments, which prolongs, any convicted felons or dissidents’ excruciating physical and mental agony before their ignominious (humiliating) end.  Some of the holding cells, chiefly used for minor offences, are all the same, ingeniously constructed to perpetuate (beget) permanent insanity; and that’s not all, but it would take me far too long to extrapolate on them all."  Hugen shrugged. "Perhaps another time, eh… Anyway, to put it succinctly, Zakhertan Yozdek's reign has been marked with extreme brutality unrivaled by anyone in history save perhaps, only by Deng Hedenko in present times."  He threw his head back and laughed at Uyuk's baffled look.

 "The Sovereign of Korion, ignoramus (numskull) you," Hugen paused to savor the other's stifled rage at the insult. "To continue; after consolidating his power Zakhertan Yozdek lost no time in raising another mammoth (gargantuan) force, this time to punish us anew, but by that time our Illustrious Sovereign Anguan Binchan had succumbed to a fatal illness, thus robbing Zakhertan of his chief grievance.”

“Korion, meanwhile, had been rocked by a volcanic eruption and three subsequent earthquakes that ravaged two major cities and most of the countryside which depleted the precious remainder of our valuable resources, our strength and vitality.  What real resistance a devastated and leaderless nation could have offered? Of course, that mattered little to such a blood-thirsty fiend Zakhertan; as a matter of fact, he had even taken it into account and used it to gain an even more swift and decisive victory." Hugen bristled.  "An honorable campaign was not something he’d consider in his evil plans.  In no time at all, his superior, predatory forces swept across the adjacent, inconsequential provinces to descend on us voraciously, with but one directive: to annihilate our race from the face of the Earth.”

03- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (22) JP

"Ah, but we (every citizen of Korion) were equally determined (resolute) to deny him his easy conquest.  Even though from the start our defeat was a foregone conclusion, our patriots resisted Zakhertan for a year and a half.  Hah!  I'd venture to guess that it was the costliest and bloodiest campaign Zakhertan had ever waged.  Alas!  Despite our courage and brilliant strategies, our impoverished army was pitted against an invincible rapacious force that, at the crucial point in the struggle, received fresh reinforcements.  I do admit that, towards the end Zakhertan's military manoeuvring and strategic offensives were flawless as only one who is the demon incarnate can devise.  In one ingenious, final stroke he had both rebel cities capitulate simultaneously."

Hugen exhaled deeply, morosely, "And so, on the solstice of the third lunar year of the reign of our Illustrious Sovereign Harkan Konzuran Binchan, a terrible nightmare was unleashed on us all."  At this point, Hugen's tongue was stilled by the anger, bitterness, and scorn he felt at the core of his being.

"Is it true what I had heard?  That after the Capital yielded Zakhertan had our late Sovereign Anguan Binchan's corpse exhumed, supreme sacrilege that it was, had it torn into minute pieces and then scattered in various cesspools throughout the country?"

"Yes," Hugen nodded grimly, "and that's not all.  On Zakhertan’s orders his men went on a rampage, digging up all the ancestral graves, some Centuries old.  They desecrated the corpses and had the remains discarded into fast flowing rivers.  The valuable artifacts were all plundered then shamelessly carted off (lugged) to their homeland."  Hugen dropped his head, swallowing hard.  "After the gruesome, ignoble execution of our Sovereign Harkan Konzuran Binchan, anyone with even a trace of royal blood was rounded up and humiliated in a public spectacle designed specifically to break our spirit before they, too, were executed.  However, this had quite the opposite effect, for it only strengthened (fuelled) our people's resolve."

Uyuk hissed; his absent gaze fixed at the far corner.

Hugen looked up sharply, pleased at the outrage in Uyuk, noting his face flushed to beet-red, his chest palpitating with indignation at the same time as his fists clenched so hard that, his nails drew blood from the sheer force and intensity of his feelings.  For a spell Hugen had forgotten Uyuk's true origin, but then, suddenly his thoughts darkened.

“Who are you trying to fool?  It was your kind, your race that inflicted these atrocities on us.”  He shook his head and bit his lip to contain his inner contempt. It was a strange idea, a hard concept for this hard-core patriot to swallow.  “No matter what, I cannot conceive of how anyone can forsake their own kind, their own race and country as absolutely as you have done, Uyuk! And for what reason, a personal grievance?” 

Seeing Uyuk in this light he questioned the other’s professed loyalty to Korion.  “What’s your actual ulterior motive?  What kind of game are you playing at anyhow?” With narrowing eyes, he covertly scrutinized his partner.

“Get a grip on your-self!” he fought the urge to strike, to act immediately.  “There’ll be ample opportunity later.  Go along for now, soon enough he will show his true colors and expose his dark heart.  You can deal with him then.”

But again, defiantly such bursting fury rose from deep within.  “Why on Earth had he bothered at all?  Why had he stuck his neck out for Uyuk in the first place?  Was it the element of danger, the challenge it posed?  Had he wished to exploit Uyuk as a game, a way to gratify his dark, morbid sense, his hatred for Uyuk's kind?  Or was it something entirely different, an alien concept long since abandoned; plain old pity?”  Hugen detested this new ambivalent feeling and looked down (lowered his gaze), trying to think of something else.

In his silent brooding, now with his eyelids closed, he reflected yet again how Wushing, his entire family, his colleagues and anyone who had been even remotely connected with him had all been hunted down and brutally eradicated (eliminated).  It mattered not whether they had been innocent lives, all ages of civilians.  Their fate had all been the same.  This extending to the (agrarian populations) countryside, the manifold atrocities that had been committed back then, to date hunted Hugen’s peace; countless ranchers (farmers, planters) had all been mercilessly cut down, their mutilated and mangled corpses piled high in heaps were then burned to ash. 

“In summation, Zakhertan Yozdek’s fierce persecution had extended way beyond those who had actively opposed him in both campaigns.  There had been so much blood spilled that for months after Korion's capitulation the rivers had ran red.  When pestilence struck during those warm months, it necessitated the burning of all the exposed corpses.  So many bonfires dotted the land, that the acerbic air stifled (burned) the lungs, while anguished wailing (cries) of mourners revibrated the land.”

04- HUGEN (54)jp

These were the haunting sounds and images which, permanently etched into his mind, had robbed Hugen of least peaceful, any tranquil existence.  Whether he was asleep or awake, the ongoing nightmares provided him no respite.  To present, Hugen's love for his country, his Sovereign and his craving for vengeance were all, what sustained him and gave some meaning to his wretched life. But alas, perpetually no absolution (pardon, release) was to be had, with his precarious, oftentimes violent existence.

"And it is for certain that one thing Zakhertan Yozdek had not counted on, was his own underestimation of the resilience of Korion’s ordinary folk." Uyuk , interceding, spoke up loudly, partly to test Hugen's state of (alertness) consciousness.

The slight frown on the other's features confirmed it, he was (alert and) awake. Uyuk was, of course speaking from personal experience.  Surviving the ignominious death of his mother and sister, he was on the brink of expiring himself when he had been given sanctuary and a second chance, by a tribe of nomadic herdsmen in Korion.  His foster father was one Muxor Kenny, a strong, stout warrior who never donned a smile.  Always rigid and stern, he had nevertheless taught Uyuk the survival skills that had served him well up to the present day. 

“Oh yes,” Uyuk inwardly scoffed (rebuked, chided), as he sized up Hugen quaffing some more spirits: “I am well aware of your low opinion of me and my skills. I may just one day shock the britches right off you, arrogant, smug bastard!”

 If the truth were to be known, Uyuk had it in his power to alter that opinion and countless times had been sorely tempted by Hugen's goading to show off and expose his deeply hidden talents. Indeed, Uyuk knew far more than he let on.  Despite his youth he had experienced numerous hair-raising, daring escapades that, if recounted, would boggle Hugen's mind, and earn him the respect and recognition he felt was his due.  Fortunately, his good sense had prevented him from doing that very thing.

Hugen, as if he had surmised other’s thoughts, suddenly looked up and meeting Uyuk's eyes directly, smirked; then in a conciliatory gesture, offered him the jug which the younger man this time obligingly took and raised it to his lips.

Even though Uyuk was parched, he took care to drink only a moderate portion however, just enough to wet his mouth, for it would not do if he were to become totally inebriated, despite the reliable company and relatively safe circumstances.  Feeling suddenly famished, he reached over and drew his bundle to him.  Groping about inside the sack, he found what he was looking for: the remainder of the dry rations.  He handed some to Hugen and, without ceremony the two began to tear and chew, the hard bits of venison to gratify their hunger.  Afterwards Uyuk stretched out his limbs and urged Hugen to continue with his recounting of his history.

Now more favorably disposed, Hugen picked up from where he had left off: "Time after time having encountered the gritty, dogged (resolute) resistance from every citizen of Korion high and low (ordinary folk), it soon became apparent to Zakhertan Yozdek that, Korion could not be governed by anyone other than our own.  The pacification of the rebellious tribes in the remote mountains proved particularly arduous and sanguinary.  The many costly expeditions aimed at annihilating these guerrilla fighters only resulted in a string of ignominious defeats at the hands of these nomadic herders. Many skirmishes, including those led by your foster-father Muxor Kenny, which incidentally, you’d failed to mention in your recruitment (enrolment) application.”

Hugen at this point, had abruptly fell silent, and then simply tossed Uyuk a knowing, fleeting smirk. 

05- MUXOR KENNY - KORION'S NOMADIC HORSEMAN

“To put it succinctly, these frays in time gave rise to other sporadic pockets of rebellion and soon after, there arose widespread, well organized, resistance of all sorts erupting simultaneously in all parts of the country.”

“Yes… we had demonstrated to them, once and for all, how this nation even though subjugated, could not be enslaved and all the oppressive measures, stringent laws and brutal, savage punishments would never, ever, crush our spirit or resolve!" Uyuk, getting a grip and pretending to be caught up in the moment’s hype (excitement), hissed.

Hugen gave (threw) him a pointed look, "As you seem to know the rest, I may as well save my breath." But Uyuk hastily leaned across to touch his shoulder and in an earnest voice protested his ignorance.  He confessed that, in his early pubescent (teenage) years, wanting to prove his worth to his foster-father Muxor Kenny, he had partaken in some acts of sabotage (resistance) but that he had never truly grasped the complete political picture; for his  subsequent adolescent (later teen) years were spent, totally cut off from any civilization, in the sacred Shouyou Mountains.  Appearing unusually co-operative, Uyuk without prodding volunteered that, this period had been lost to him, because he had been paying a penance for his serious breach of a key tribal law.

"What law?"

Uyuk's response was curt and cryptic.

“Have it your way.” Hugen inclined his head and inwardly scoffed: “I’ve offered you a chance to be straight with me, and yet again you’ve failed.  It’s your loss.” Of course, he knew all there was to it, he’d been well informed about Uyuk's unforgivable offense (felony, crime) and the consequential chastisement and more, much, much more.  He covertly kept Uyuk in his side-view as he grimaced coldly.

“Yes, that detailed report had encompassed data that, I suspect, even you are unaware of, my foreign friend.  I've trained my informants well, so well that they can even make the dead speak.  You would be surprised, no, shaken to your core if you knew what I know, that the one who had betrayed you, the key conspirator, was none other than you’re...”  Hugen averted his eyes. “No; why should I rattle your feathers?  Why destroy the only semblance of?”  Hugen turned (reverted) his stone-cold gaze back to Uyuk to look him straight in the eye.  But then suddenly an unexpected strong compassion seized his heart and his piercing pupils momentarily softened and he nodded.

When Uyuk once more entreated (beseeched) Hugen to enlighten him on the political aspects of Korion's and Wenjenkun's shared histories, Hugen quietly acquiesced, if only to pass the time.  Yet he did not begin right away, instead, he lent an ear for a spell longer to the pelting rain, which seemed to be tapering off. 

 

(END OF SECTION 16) 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 1

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 1

 

The highway they traveled on from the port of Hanbrak teemed with increasingly denser traffic as they neared the walled Capital, Channing.  Soon they saw it: the monumental, awesome structure with its intermittent towers piercing the heavens, attesting to the skill and greatness of Wenjenkun. It needed no explanation as to why and how these virtually indestructible defenses had withstood centuries of offensives.  The outer wall, as Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) had been briefed, and could now bear witness to, had nine massive bronze gates while the inner wall had six.

A hundred bells tolled (pealed resonated, boomed, rang), as they neared the famous Kigo Bridge, greeting their ears with musical harmony; bells chimed at their regular intervals to mark the time of day from their location in the central square, where all streets within the city inevitably converged.

Two main arteries to Channing throbbed with fretful vitality when nearing dusk, Nevetsecnuac, Zunrogo and Tizan had merged with the hastening crowd, most anxious to cross one of the two bridges that led into the inner core of the city through the Zier Gate.  A short while later and the massive, bronze gates would be closed (barring) banning any entry until sunrise; three hours later a curfew would be imposed until sunrise.  If they failed in their objective, as violators, they would be subjected to, without exception, the most extreme penalty of slow, torturous death.  Fortunately for their party, the Lieutenant in charge of Zier Gate was on friendly terms with Zunrogo and spared them the grueling scrutiny the others were subjected to.

 

01-lLIEUTENANT IN CHARGE OF ZIER GATE

"Their papers are all in order, let them pass."  His resounding (loud, booming) order rippled through the ranks of guards and gave Captain Zunrogo and co. prompt easy access through the set of barricades which had been put in place since the last time Zunrogo had been to the Capital.  Declining the offer of a state carriage, they remained mounted on their horses as they joined in the swift, steady stream of traffic that flowed through the streets to their destination.

Channing, now the den of jackals, wolves, and tigers, more than sixteen miles in diameter and 62 miles around, this crowning jewel of the nation boasted in its middle city several dozen large, well-maintained streets and several hundred small alleys, which perpetually be thronged with people and rich carriages.

At the central core (of Channing), perpetuating the strength and enlightenment of Wenjenkun, stood the Military Academy, the Civil Universities, a multitude of monasteries and temples with turquoise tiles and crimson roofs.  Most had been constructed during the previous rule of the benevolent Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir and now, after a lengthy closure and violent purges, they had modified their ideologies sufficiently enough to be considered fit for reinstatement by the present regime, with of course, limited potency (might and influence), of their former years of glory.

 The glistening green artery of the Yawjun River flowed through the center of the city, measuring five miles from bank to bank at its widest.  Picturesque vessels of all sizes and designs in an ongoing, steady stream contested with all their speed for the much coveted and privileged dock space.

Even at this quick pace, Nevetsecnuac's eyes feasted on the festooned splendors of the magnificent Inner City.  Shops were laden with the rafters with exotic merchandise.  Imposing, many storied buildings of all shapes lined the main thoroughfare and beyond.  Gilded and brightly lit pavilions in elaborate architectural styles, bustling Pleasure Houses adorned with Heavenly Beauties beckoned the distinguished guests to their bosoms and a multitude of well-established tea houses catered to a discerning and demanding clientele.  Cultural institutions throbbed with the discussions of the arrogant elite.

A pervasive picture of opulence and a thriving economy could easily have overwhelmed any newcomer to the city, enticing him into abandoning all reserve; all moral principles save for those the city itself dictated and are forever enslaved in this irresistible, gilded cage.

Everything here was most assuredly divorced from the harsh daily realities the rest of the country endured.  Indeed, as the authorities had planned (intended), this artificial world encapsulating the visitor would leave no doubt in his mind about the opulent strength of the economy and he would continue being duped, convinced that if Channing was at the zenith of its power and wealth then the remainder of Wenjenkun also enjoyed the same conditions.

 

02- NEVETSECNUAC IN CAPITAL (4)JP

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac), having travelled (ridden) the far corners of the Empire, knew the difference and shook his head in disdain and disbelief.  How the rest of the populace suffered intolerable conditions, endured terrible ordeals in-order-to furnish Channing with this excessive abundance!

 Fradel Rurik Korvald ‘s (Nevetsecnuac’s) face became increasingly grim as another level (layer) of this reality crept in.  On the surface this well-mannered bustling populace, with their rich silk brocade robes, their neatly trimmed and decorated head and facial hair, their fine carriages restricted to one side of the road and their lips frozen in mechanical smiles, presented the very picture of contentment and tranquility.

Yet Fradel’s keen senses penetrated this impressive facade, alerting him to the reality that this unnatural, perfectly regimented order laid atop an unseen, eerie atmosphere of fear and oppression that lurked just barely beneath the surface.

Suddenly a shrill whistling pierced the clamor.  Instantly the crowd mechanically peeled into two streams, drew close to the buildings, and halted abruptly. 

On Zunrogo’s sharp command, Tizan and the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald dismounted at once and joined the rest at the side of the road.

Within seconds the thundering hooves were upon them.  A wave of fear rippled through the comatose citizens as they lowered their heads, turned away or cast their eyes to the ground.  Only scholar Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) eyes were defiantly lifted to see the charging contingent pass at a gallop, led by a fearsome warrior on a magnificent white stallion.  In the brief instant when their eyes met, the warrior's cold, cruel, predatory gaze pierced through Nevetsecnuac's unflinching stare to the core of his being.

 

03- EGIL VIGGORIES 5 -JP

 A disturbing thought at that point in time had barely formed in his consciousness, “He looks so much like a young… No!  That's not possible!”  Nevetsecnuac shook his head to dismiss this deplorable speculation as his eyes trailed the receding horsemen.

 

"He's on a hunt!" Tizan's icy contempt snapped Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) out of his daze, and he turned his sharp, questioning eyes to the Lieutenant.  Tizan had uttered these indiscriminate words seemingly without fear or, at least, care.

 Boldly, too boldly in fact, he continued, "That Imperial edict he's carrying can only mean…” His words were frozen on his tongue by a stern look from Zunrogo.  Stymied, he grumbled under his breath then bared his teeth in a savage grimace to cast a threatening look around him.  This implicit threat was enough to scatter those few pedestrians that had lingered briefly on the spot to silently admonish Tizan for this apparent foolishness.

 "A flock of sheep, all of you," Tizan snorted contemptuously and swung into the saddle in one swift leap.

Zunrogo turned to Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) and grimaced wryly, anticipating the question.  "Now you've seen His Excellency Egil Viggoaries, remember him.  You would do well to be wary of him; better still, if possible, avoid any contact (interaction) or confrontation with his excellency."  With a sardonic smile, thinking, “he delights most in feasting on virtuous, attractive (, striking, handsome, desirable) insects like you”, he mounted his horse and spurred the beast on ahead.

 

The road they were on eventually converged with the others at the central square.  As they passed the gibbet in the center, Nevetsecnuac's eyes were riveted to the wretched corpse hanging headless from a pole that jutted from the raised platform.  At the side a crimson plaque was erected, stating in white letters the name and crime of the offender.  Around the corpse, in a bizarrely grotesque dance, a small crowd was endlessly circling, spitting, jabbing, and poking at the body in an almost orchestrated manner.  Occasionally one would furtively glance about, as if this performance was undertaken to assert his loyalty for the benefit of hidden, spying eyes.

At first glance the head of the corpse seemed to have been savagely; brutally bitten off but on closer scrutiny, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) noted that it had, in fact, disintegrated at the neck as if some corrosive substance had eaten through the flesh and bone.  The rest of the corpse’s torso had been charred over three quarters of its surface and the part below the waist was slowly being mutilated, beyond human recognition, by the crowd.

Suddenly a shiver rippled through Fradel Rurik Korvald’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) chest as his eyes were riveted to a single lock of bloodied, shriveled red hair on the nape.

“It’s inconceivable.  Had this been his fate?  Had he… No!  He could not have been so easily overcome, not him.”  With an effort of will Nevetsecnuac dispelled the traces of suspicion that lurked in the depths of his heart before they took root, supplanting it with strong, unequivocal denial.

 A moment later, the gnawing feeling re-emerged in the pit of his stomach, “Could it be that this Dwengzur was that competent?”  His eyes were still glued to the corpse, Nevetsecnuac involuntarily tugged at the reins, causing the beast he was riding to rear abruptly.

Zunrogo looked dubiously at Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) but said nothing, but Tizan could not let the opportunity to goad the scholar slip by.

"A friend of yours?" he asked coldly as he pulled up alongside Fradel’s horse.

Ignoring this needling, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) turned to read the notice.

Midway to, it stated that this assassin was an enemy of the state who had come to Wenjenkun as an emissary from Kontu… Kontu, not Korion!  Nevetsecnuac breathed a deep sigh of relief but then quite unbidden; other’s cryptic words came to mind,

"Even if I fail, I shall not fail." 

Nevetsecnuac’s (Fradel’s) heart once more became laden with the same doubts, the same suppositions until, biting his lip, he resolved to, at the first opportunity, make discrete inquiries and resolve this puzzle, one way or another.

 

04- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 21 B

Zunrogo had reined in his horse and, inclining his head as if to check the bridle, observed scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald ‘s (Nevetsecnuac's) quandary from the corner of his eye.  Since Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) had made no attempt to hide his concern, Zunrogo disdainfully scoffed and wheeled his horse about.  The scholar's mood had always perplexed him, but other concerns now preyed more heavily on his mind.  He let the matter drop, making no attempt whatsoever to straighten Tizan out. 

 

“Besides,” he told himself, “It won't be long now before I'm relieved of this annoying obligation.”

As it were, from the moment Zunrogo relinquished the care of the scholar to another, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) would cease to exist for him.  With his farsightedness Zunrogo had already surmised that there would be little advantage in ingratiating himself with the illustrious Fradel.  In fact, he speculated that the scholar's immanent downfall would come in the not-too-distant future.  Already the fashionable trend of the day towards the literati was starting to shift in the direction for, it’s inevitable decline.

Tizan, meanwhile, had erroneously attributed Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) mood to weakness, assuming that the scholar's delicate constitution had obviously been ruffled, shaken to the core by the gruesome realities of life.  Not bothering to conceal his scornful contempt, he had steered his mount alongside Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's), mumbling jibes (taunts), as they both caught up to Zunrogo then, proceeded to blend in (merge with) the other stream of traffic that led to an alternate road away from the square.

Tizan grimaced maliciously as he threw sidelong glances, knowing that Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) would be witnessing far worse sights in the days to come.  “Either you will grow accustomed to these common sights, or you’ll fall gravely ill and, perhaps, die.”  Tizan contemptuously laughed.

 

05--TZAN JP

“That’s right, Channing will either toughen you up or devour you whole, smarty-pants.”  Even as he thought this, Tizan knew what the outcome would be.  “Ha!  Go back while you can, pathetic fool.  Your fine looks, your honeyed, intellectual jargon will not win you any merit (credence or weight) here.  They will not keep you from harm; sooner or later you will succumb to the dangers and perish as all your kind should.  If you had any lick of sense, you would feign sudden illness and flee, as soon and as fast, all the way back to that safe mountain retreat and bury your head in your manuscripts, for only the strongest, the shrewdest, the most cunning survive here.”

Of course, Nevetsecnuac’s ears had incessantly burned with all that unspoken hostility from Tizan; however, as it would hardly be worth his while to challenge or lecture this illiterate brute; besides which, Tizan’s presumed crude estimation being somewhat palpable (blatant) truth, Nevetsecnuac had kept his quiet.

 

Nevetsecnuac, meanwhile, had comprehended far more than he let on; he’d recognized for instance, how in Channing, competition was fierce, mercy and compassion was an unknown, unpracticed, and altogether dangerous precept.  He knew also, and could rightly attest to now, how alongside most prevalent punishments another, more sinister, harsher reality lurked. One that had been a routine policy in Channing, for well over a decade, to systematically uncover and eradicate all undesirable and imperfect elements and citizens.  Anyone who’d been deemed unpleasant to the eyes or senses of the ruling elite, had been, without mercy, hounded to extinction; scores cruelly tortured as part of night's entertainment and some driven out or eliminated entirely, by the ruthless invisible force that manned the society (populace) of Metropolis.

The rare anomaly (variance), those few less than perfect opulent residents, by dispensing bribes and staying well hidden, had subsisted through this dicey, hazardous existence (way of life) in Channing. 

 

 

                                                                                  ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 1)