LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 5

 Dwengzur, muttering an incomprehensible incantation, first drew a small circle of flame in the air, blew at it then, gestured grandly, “Behold!”

As Dwengzur sat on the chair and leaned his back to view the scene in comfort, the circle meanwhile had expanded then, got filled with images.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) now noted with disdain Zakhertan Yozdek’s Spartan sleeping quarters. Few minutes later, at the appointed hour Zakhertan’s personal guards took up their usual posts at outside, while Zakhertan pretending to retire, climbed into bed and drew up the curtains. But instead of going to asleep, he had slyly withdrawn to the secret antechamber off the bedroom proper, which he had often used. Meanwhile, the curtains around his bed being tightly drawn, gave the impression that he was there within and, fast asleep.

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (9) JP

Sovereign Zakhertan had been bidden by Dwengzur, to remain in his secret antechamber, for his safety’s sake, till all (the assassination attempt and the response), was over; alternatively, however, Zakhertan had planned to re-emerge once the fighting had started to observe and gain firsthand knowledge of the Immortals’ (otherwise well- guarded) abilities. This aspiration if fulfilled, would have made Zakhertan even more powerful.

Nevetsecnuac just then noted the Immortal Dwengzur peeping out from behind the ebony partition, having previously entered the room and hidden in a secret alcove behind the dark-hardwood-panel, his face the very picture of impatience. He’d waited there, nearly an hour, to set upon Zonar with a deadly force, the moment latter showed up. Dwengzur instantly ducked back in again as the rumbling groan forecasted the arrival of Zonar. The ceiling parted with a crackling noise and, riding a flotilla of clouds, Zonar majestically descended slowly into the center of the room. Instantly he became aware of Dwengzur's presence and turned to confront the threat. With lightning speed, Dwengzur had already launched his attack only to see the deadly onslaught parlayed with equal agility. Zonar struck back. Not once, but twice he delivered simultaneous assaults to the vulnerable points of his ardent foe. Dwengzur's clearly pronounced surprise was evident (marked) on his features; he had grossly underestimated Zonar's abilities. That mistake he strove to quickly rectify however, as Nevetsecnuac's eyes then beheld an incredibly electric fighting display. Meanwhile as if there were no walls there at all, Nevetsecnuac observed Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek springing up from his cot in the secret antechamber off the bedroom proper, unsheathing his sword and charging towards the door. Zakhertan next, tried turning the knob with his free left hand, to go outside.

Nevetsecnuac's face at once became suffused with anger as he noted the sword the usurper was brandishing in his right hand, the legendary sword of his great, great grandfather, Inghard Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir, the founder of Ingolf Dynasty.

Nevetsecnuac had first learned the existence of this sword from the historical archives (the ancient paintings provided the image) as he was growing up under the assiduous tutelage of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon. The annals (chronicles and monographs) had also alleged, the blade had been forged from the meteorite that had fallen to Earth on the very day of Inghard Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir's birth. The metal extracted from the meteorite rock was unyielding and unworkable; but after an extensive search, only an Indigenous blacksmith from a remote region of Anzui, proved capable of forging it into a magnificent sword. For decades since, this heirloom had proven indispensable on the battlefield for the warrior kings of Wenjenkun, as the blade kept its acerbic (sharp) edge regardless, slicing through rock, metal, and the strongest armor of most formidable foe. Moreover, the archives had stated that the sword possessed magical properties, and, in the benevolent hands of King Inghard and subsequent descendants, it had always radiated a pure blue, iridescence. With disdain Nevetsecnuac observed the bloody crimson glow that enveloped the sword’s blade now that it was in the grip of the villainous Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek.

02- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (1) JP

Finding the door jammed Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek meanwhile, with fury and great strength had struck, pounded, viciously kicked the door, and pulled at the doorhandle, as he same time bellowed commands and dire treats to both Dwengzur and his own indomitable guards. The sturdy construction of the doors, however, would not yield in the least. Once locked, they were made to withstand any onslaught; furthermore, at both ends Sovereign and the frantic guards’ efforts had all been-impeded by Dwengzur’s prior incantation, which kept both sets of doors sealed up tight, via (by means of) supernatural force.

All the while, in mid course, the uncanny, magnificent (outstanding) battle between Dwengzur and Zonar had raged. The impressive sight on occasion took Nevetsecnuac's breath away. Most of the time their forms were unrecognizable, just a huge, swirling blurs that assumed various shapes, colors, and sizes.

03- TREMENDOUS BATTLE BETW. IMMORTALS

 

Somersaulting, and then shooting up into the air, unobstructed by the non-existent ceiling, their swords clashed repeatedly in bursts of electric fire. Every so often they conjured up vile, hideous demons to engage in simultaneous combat overhead, their fiery blazes lighting up (illuminating) the sky all the way to the Heavens. The battle was so fantastic, so incredible; it boggled all senses and the mind.

Witnessing this, Nevetsecnuac's indomitable resolve and confidence gradually now waned, as he realized (grasped) the measure of his own mortal ability; moreover, he had now fully comprehended how Dwengzur and Zonar could only be, bested or killed, by their own kind and no other. His contest with Zonar therefore, aside from that lucky hap-stance (where the amulet was, lost), had been all along a hopeless escapade (feat).

“That is right! Now you know just what it is you are up against,” Dwengzur ejected smugly, eyeing Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Disregarding Dwengzur’s words and once more mental block in place, Nevetsecnuac further reflected how his hallucinogenic episode had been in fact a serious forewarning. Dwengzur being a more competent Immortal, what hope did Nevetsecnuac have, of besting him?

A slight feeling of consternation gripped Nevetsecnuac’s heart as he faced this new reality. Thankfully he had not tried engaging Dwngzur in a mortal combat; if he had done that, he could have sabotaged his chief aim! After all the training, the sacrifices the others had made on his behalf, all he had been through, and it would have all been (futile) in vain. At least he’d not made the gross underestimation of Dwengzur’s power! Nevetsecnuac was glad now, heeding his intuition earlier and, opting to fight Dwengzur solely through (by way of) psychological warfare.

Even though Nevetsecnuac knew beforehand the outcome of this now incessantly raging battle between the two Immortals, having witnessed its gruesome, violent ending (on his first day, arriving at the Capital), it only strengthened his earlier resolve and same time, rekindled his seething contempt for this formidable, invincible foe, Dwengzur. He would therefore do his utmost to avenge Zonar and to destroy Dwengzur. His mind unrelenting, Nevetsecnuac began formulating his next manoeuvre (plan). You must be like the water. He reminded self.  You must seem to yield when that is requisite, while adapting stealthy tactic to seize the advantage and obtain apex result.

Relaxing his mind’s block, Nevetsecnuac let this next thought now unobstructed, be revealed to Dwengzur, and then ended it with this sentence, how does it feel to be goaded, to have the shoe on the other foot?

“Hah?” Picking Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) deliberately antagonistic projection and than the goading, Dwengzur glared (in daggers) at Fradel Rurik Korvald. “What is that? You dastardly fiend, you played me?”

The Immortal was now quite incensed; then, Fadel’s subsequent projected thoughts aced his fury.

“None have dared be that presumptuous with me and lived to tell of it. Death will be a welcome relief when I am through with you, Fradel Rurik Korvald!”  Gritting his teeth, the immortal threw Fradel a contemptuous, venomous scowl, yet the controlled inner peace of the scholar did not waver, not in the least, in response to the threat in Dwengzur's eyes. Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) furthermore had continued outwardly with his prodding, the taunt clearly perceptible in his (vernacular) each idiom: "Such an impressive combat, yet the reason, which is the real reason, for Zonar's denunciation (censure), persecution  and demise, or rather his execution is, now please allow me a primitive being, to reiterate, to affirm that : Zonar Kuntzu’s condemnation had nothing at all to do with his interferences in the mortal realm, nor was it the posed threat to Zakhertan Yozdek; rather, it was necessary because your sacred laws had been breached. He dared to live and thrive at the outside world. As Zonar can never be forced into compliance, not by Elders of Karn or you, his defiance being the real threat, he was hence, slated (scheduled) for death. Imagine being threatened by one solitary Immortal, your race is doomed to fail, repeatedly.” Nevetsecnuac grimaced and shook his head, and then, continued with his taunting (goading). “Your race’s antiquated laws despite your prior claim of it being for the preservation of humankind is in truth is for, vigorously, at times belligerently, safeguarding and perpetuating Karn Race’s superiority over, not just us humans, but all other races.”

“Moreover, even though by your own admission, we humans are not worthy of any serious consideration, your kind is actually threatened by the inherent potential that you see in us."

After a purposeful pause, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac)’s unflinching, dogged pupils was again, pinned, on the Immortal's flaming eyes. Fradel grimaced coldly, as he now inwardly and deliberately provoked the other. “Yet, intriguing and true these notions be, perhaps you would care to hear my further caveats(forewarnings)?” 

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) in deliberate slowness projected these next set of thoughts, making sure Dwengzur had grasped fully every premise (concept, idea, opinion).

04- ZONAR FIGHTS DWENGZUR

Fradel’s eyes back on the fighting Zonar, he gasped, as if in admiration. “What a fine warrior he is. Better then anyone I believe that your kind could produce!” All the while letting Dwengzur read his thoughts, without hindrance, he then turned his hard gaze back on Dwngzur and deliberately, with needling (inciting) thought, further provoked him:   “It is my contention that you pursued and so grievously disposed of such an exceptional, immortal warrior, because his true abilities were yet to manifest (ascertained). Also, guided by his contaminated heart, he might have posed more serious future disruptions to your race; as well, sought apt vengeance (retribution) for the grievous murders of his natural father, foster parents and mortal siblings.”

Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) uncanny, finely-honed (keen) insight unnerved Dwengzur; he now stared, for a time, menacingly back at Fradel and then, enunciated (issued) aloud this threat:  "I have underestimated you, scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. I assure you, sir, I shall not repeat that mistake again." 

Not in the least bit intimidated, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) simply smiled.

 Dwengzur’s piercing, contemptuous eyes meeting the scholar’s unflinching gaze however, he again encountered the same obstruction, the same resistance to his probing. Undaunted, Dwengzur grimaced. “Go ahead,” he scoffed, detesting Fradel Rurik Korvald yet respecting him more, “erect all the barriers you can; in the end you will still lose. Your aim is too transparent.”  

A dismissive wave of the hand made the reeling scene on the wall, poof, disappear. He would not share any more information with this upstart scholar.

Feeling suddenly parched, Dwengzur reached for the wine decanter, consumed the contents of it in one, long, unhurried guzzle (swig, swallow) and, placing the empty flagon (flask) back onto the table, leaned back.

“I'm onto your tricks, petty human.”  He coldly scrutinized Fradel, while lending him only half an ear. “Two can play at this game.”  Dwengzur glowered.

Enjoying the predominant atmosphere of antipathy and this rare human’s uncommon courage and wit, “We’ll see just how long you can keep this up!”  Dwengzur, with his look of daggers, jeered at Fradel.

“But wait, I'm not through speculating.” Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) projected his subsequent, uncanny thoughts, which was at once picked up by Dwengzur. “I now venture to guess as to the real reason you, sir, have sought out my company and the motive behind this constrained inquisition… You wish to know if Zonar had imparted to me any sacrosanct Immortal's secrets.”  Nevetsecnuac boldly met Dwengzur's eye, catching the fleeting glint of acknowledgment in them.

"Why should I deny it?"  Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) shockingly direct revelation disturbed Dwengzur (took him back, made Dwengzur anxious) for a spell.

"But even if you utilize all your powers; still, you cannot extract it from me.” Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) bluffed, his eyes daringly meeting Dwengzur’s.

Most astonished by this display of raw courage, Dwengzur's indignation ebbed, and he grimaced slyly. "Your goading will not work this time?" Dwengzur interrupted Fradel subsequent words, with a gesture of his hand.

"Then again, your species are frequently deceitful; humans in general, are not known for their candor." Dwengzur shook his head. "In whatever status, misinterpretations of facts are an art form to you humans. Am I to believe that you are so different, a mutant perhaps?"  He looked directly, incredulously at Fradel, trying to gauge his response.

" No; after each encounter Zonar did not tarry long enough to pass on any such info, I’m certain of that.” Dwengzur after a deliberate pause, concluded. "Considering the gravity of this matter however, I must obtain solid confirmation for my self; and that can only be achieved, by penetrating your mind. The consequential damage, I assure you, will be minimal."  Then, as congenially as he could, he demanded that he, be allowed, to do just that.

Though a small consolation (solace, relief), it had been made perfectly clear to Nevetsecnuac by now, how without his permission Dwengzur could not probe into the deep recesses of his subconscious. Nevetsecnuac, with his definite misgivings about the Immortal, simply shook his head as his answer in the negative.

Dwengzur predictably viewed this refusal, as clear indication of the Scholar’s guilt; impatient with this standoff, he drummed his fingers on the table and pensively looked away:  So far, guile and coaxing had produced no satisfactory results. However, intriguing this obstinate human was, he still had wasted his precious time, particularly since he had hoped to have been well on his way by now.

He turned his harsh gaze back on Fradel and narrowing his eyes, ejected acerbically: "If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just relent."

Nevetsecnuac defiantly met other’s piercing eyes and shook his head, "You cannot intimidate me. I will relent all right; when Hell freezes over!”

"That can easily be arranged." Dwengzur's bark shook the entire hall to its foundations before he turned his head away to check his rising temper.

 It certainly would not do to reduce all of this to ashes. The Immortal exhaled deeply, oh, I had hoped to avoid this but, constrained for time as I am, I am hoping my master will go easy on me for this necessary infringement (via force to involuntarily extracting it out of him). Dwengzur’s ambivalence, this circumspect (guarded, prudent) leniency, of course had stemmed from, his innate terror of his master and the all too frequent repercussions (penalties) that he had endured, for his regular acts of disobedience; and so, for few more seconds he just fixed his blank stare on the tapestry hanging on the far wall. Then again there was that other option; he shrugged, and for that, scholar’s willpower needed, to be broken! Dwengzur's face, for a spell, shone with dark malice and he lowered his thoughtful gaze on the floor.

No, not just yet; he will use it as the last resort. As it where, he had already gone too far and for that, his punishment will not be light… Abruptly stopping his subsequent conjectures (speculations), he shook his head to dispel, to purge the succeeding (resultant) rush of unpleasant images and thoughts from his mind.

(END OF SECTION 5)

 

                                                                                            ~

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 8

Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) expression still blank; he reverted his gaze back on Zaur.  The minister's eyes were fixed on a distant point, as his mind pondered (mulled over) on some serious recollection or thought.   Nevetsecnuac noted how all along Zaur had desperately tried to master, to contain a seething emotional battle raging within, while he upheld (sustained) an outward, impassive facade.

01- ZAUR STUGR   JP 28

The range of emotions (gratitude, sorrow, anger, exasperation, relief, dreads, apprehension, and impatience) that Zaur had tried to suppress beneath his calm facade (pretense), nevertheless detected by incisive Nevetsecnuac, rather intrigued him; hence, he subtly studied Zaur's face and wondered, “If I could vicariously impart to you (Zaur) all that I had observed in that pit, how would your emotions stand up to those grim revelations?  Would you be able to maintain this calm demeanor (face, guise)?”  A strange empathy, a sorrowful feeling enveloped Nevetsecnuac’s soul at that precise moment, provoking him to breach the all-pervasive wall of distrust that lay between him and his host, to communicate the true details in the hope of drawing Zaur out and enabling (aiding) him to drop the pretense and reveal what was truly at the crux (core) of his being. Moreover, Nevetsecnuac’s heart had ached to, for once have real communication, an exchange of thoughts and feelings, without least reserve. 

“What's come over me?” Nevetsecnuac snapping from his momentary weakness, this dangerous prescience (intuition), however, quietly admonished self: “It’s inconceivable to consider this sheer madness, especially with one such as Zaur, who has already proven to be shrewd and devious, though admittedly not dangerous yet.  I've divulged far too much already.  That pit was located dangerously near the spot where Egil Viggoaries's vassals waited in ambush for Fradel Rurik Korvald.”

 Nevetsecnuac ruminated (cogitated) now, how he had come perilously close to being discovered at the site by one of the sentries; however, fortuitously, the guard had been deterred from further scrutiny (investigation) of the noise, which Nevetsecnuac had inadvertently caused just moments before when he had fallen into the pit.  If that minor incident along with the planned ambush by Egil Viggoaries, were to ever reach Zaur’s ears (it was ever to come to light), Zaur’s discerning mind could, easily then link up the correlating (corresponding) facts and therefore, begin doubting Fradel Rurik Korvald validity. Nevetsecnuac hence reminded self to be more vigilant and selective with his rendition of the supposed facts; meanwhile, unable to not entirely trust his host, Nevetsecnuac was left with the only recourse of coaxing Zaur into taking the desired action on his own accord without any requisite assistance from scholar Fradel. 

The corollary (outcome) of Fradel’s part in all of this must appear quite incidental(minor).

Meanwhile, as Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) was not at liberty to conduct any sort of investigation within the scarce time span he had until his audience with the Sovereign - if his intuition (hypothesis) proved correct, by entrusting the key into Zaur’s hands, he would compel the good Minister to fulfill at least part of Nevetsecnuac’s obligation to that singular skeleton's spirit.

02-THE EXPOSED GRAVE

 Nevetsecnuac was confident that a proper burial would follow shortly afterwards, though much depended on the depth of Zaur Stugr's commitment.  If the minister was in earnest, he would even now be contemplating an inquiry into this, apparently very personal matter.  With the greater means and manpower at his disposal, Zaur could ensure that the unfortunate victim, or victims, would be granted the eternal peace due them in the afterlife.

In the pit of Nevetsecnuac's stomach, meanwhile, the nagging feeling that he had missed something vitally pertinent, some cryptic quandary (predicament, fix) which was tied to the elusive answer, had persisted.

Ending (interrupting) the unsettling silence, Nevetsecnuac resumed his fabricated account, being most careful to sporadically weave in just the right amount of truth.

"Having related how Toza had procured the key, Yakkasar for a time fell silent and cautiously, perhaps with a tinge of trepidation, looked about him.  Being finally assured that no one was paying any particular heed (attention) to us, he reached into his pocket, leaned across the table and saying, please accept this, unclenched his fist to drop this key right into my palm (hand)."

Zaur Stugr, lending Fradel only half-an-ear learned how Toza, Yakkasar’s audacious (foolhardy) son had returned from one of his bold escapades (more likely, illicit excavations or theft), and claiming he’d found this rare treasure, expectedly had attempted to fence the key to what he thought were some incited (interested) customers (buyers, collectors).  Not only had every avenue had fallen through, but worst trouble had beset the pair (father and son) shortly afterwards when Yakkasar, thinking he could do better, had taken the bejeweled key and showed it to an affluent acquaintance of his, unfortunately with negative result.

03- YAKKASAR AND HIS SON TOZU

Yakkasar’s trust was grossly misplaced, subsequent night a group of seedy ruffians had broken into their humble dwelling and demolished everything inside in their search for the key.  Toza, returning unexpectedly to retrieve something he had forgotten had interrupted their rampage and pitted against the four-armed bandits, had been badly trounced (beaten).

Yakkasar returning home, at small hours and in an already dejected mood, had found his beloved son in a pool of his own blood on the verge of expiring.  Stopping his father from fetching help, Tozu with his dying breath had implored Yakkasar to discard (restore) the wretched key, to its original owner.

 Believing the item to be cursed, Yakkasar had, after selling their small property to pay for the burial of his son, had undertaken the arduous return journey to find the pit. Only difficulty being, of late, he could not recollect the specifics his son had imparted to him.

Yakkasar had already traveled a respectable distance to, a rough estimation of an area, hoping that this would hone (sharpen, jar) his memory, but it had not. By the time he had met up with Fradel Rurik Korvald, having suffered during the course of his travel’s untold hardships, been assaulted, robbed, humiliated and subjected to other misfortunes too numerous to recount, Yakkasar had eventually been reduced to that sorry state. 

On top of everything else his health was now failing him and, noting that the persistent symptoms were the very same ones which had dispatched (caused the demise of) his former neighbor, Yakkasar firmly believed his days were numbered. Caught in these dire straits, knowing that he could neither retreat nor advance and, he would never be able to fulfill his promise to his dead son, he simply had begged Fradel Rurik Korvald to grant an old man one last favor and take this cursed key off his hands and perhaps, with his discernible competence, accomplish what he had failed to do.

"I wouldn't ask this of just anyone," Yakkasar vehemently had proclaimed, "but you have shown yourself to be a righteous (virtuous), good-hearted gentleman.  I beg you to help me out of my difficulties.  Both my deceased son Tozu and I'd be eternally grateful to you, and when my time comes to its natural conclusion, I promise, to speak well of you to the God of the Underworld." 

“The old man's insistences raised such pity in me (Fradel Rurik Korvald) that I had to finally acquiesce and consented to do his bidding.”

With complete confidence, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) had anticipated the probable timing of Zaur's request, his retaining of the subtly imparted details, the approximate estimation of specifics; however, as warranted caution, he’d excluded the name of the Cyprecox Pass, where the vicinity of it the pit was located, leaving Zaur to discover this by himself.

04-NEVETSECNUAC  JP 62

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Nevetsecnuac cast a quick, unreadable side-glance at Zaur as he reached out for a morsel or two.  He’d been plied (served, provided) with variety of alcoholic drinks all night long and watched most assiduously; hence, he had been emptying his cup out of politeness, not realizing that he had consumed an inordinate number of sprits over and above his capacity.  Consequently, at present, Nevetsecnuac's head began to swim, and it became increasingly difficult for him to maintain his coordination.  Curiously enough, his thoughts and speech had not been impeded (hindered), though he was getting rather awkward (clumsy), thus he was most anxious to drop this charade and retire (get preferred rest) for the night.  Yet, very much to his disappointment, Zaur had maintained his thoughtful silence and did not voice the anticipated (prompted) inquiry.

Despite Zaur's own intoxicated state, earlier on he had perceived (comprehended) Fradel Rurik Korvald’s subtle goading (ploy) and stubbornly did not comply.

“Now you are being too transparent.  Is this intentional?”

 Zaur was dubious of this latest, seemingly pure motive, enveloped as if it were in mere sentimentality and benevolent intent.

“No one could be that caring…Why would it matter to you, Fradel, whether the owner of this key was vindicated or not?” He looked skeptically at his guest; for Zaur found it hard to accept that anyone would go to this much trouble merely out of the (kindness) goodness of his heart.

“There must be some sinister motive lurking underneath.  Moreover, what is behind this persistent, albeit discrete push, to involve me directly?”  Zaur suppressed a frown.

“Have I given it away?  How much does Fradel Rurik Korvald suspect?” 

Zaur never took anything at face value and had always dug deeper to be rewarded consistently with the ulterior motives behind those seemingly benign words, innocuous gestures and deeds that inundated him daily.  This was the golden rule to surviving in the duplicitous environment of the Capital and it had served him well so far.  He was not about to alter the philosophy he had espoused for his (whole) entire adult life on the mere chance that Fradel Rurik Korvald was a (glitch, an abnormality) rare anomaly.  Men acted the same way regardless of station, creed, or race, harboring the same malicious, greedy, and conspiratorial (conniving) intents.

Inclined slightly towards Fradel Rurik Korvald he scrutinized him, noting the subtle clumsiness of his movements.  “Truthfully, you are quite unlike anyone I have ever known (or encountered); even now, you are most remarkable, so resilient, despite your apparent inebriated (intoxicated) state.”  

A strange feeling of loss suddenly just then gripped Zaur Stugr’s heart.

“But I sense that beneath that placid exterior, there are so many grave concerns.  You seem burdened by a perilous responsibility, far heavier than the requirements of your young years.  What is it about you, Fradel Rurik Korvald, that I should feel inexplicably drawn to trust you in this way?  I feel simply dwarfed whenever I'm near you, yet this is none of your conscious doing.  On the contrary, your modesty and humility at times overwhelms me.”

 Deep down, Zaur did indeed harbor a certain affinity towards scholar Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) from the first moment when he had first laid eyes on him.

Being favorably disposed from the start, after each private conversation (discussion) with this affable, worthy opponent who had challenged his abilities to the maximum, Zaur’s admiration and respect had progressively increased (augmented) for Fradel Rurik Korvald.  Admittedly, Zaur had grown rather complacent over the years and needed this cerebral jolt (intellectual shock) which Fradel had presented at every exchange, for him to be prepared for the inevitable showdown.

“Under different circumstances, perhaps we could have…”  The sinister face of suspicion abruptly surfacing in his mind’s eye, however, cut short, this (yearning) sentiment to once more poison Zaur’s heart and cloud his judgment.

“No, you and I can never be close (intimate) friends.” For as far as Zaur was concerned the degree of complexity in Fradel Rurik Korvald’s character, the allusive secrecy, the vulnerable, pure naiveté lying atop a certain recalcitrance (or bedlam) were all inconsistencies in the scholar's character, which reinforced Zaur’s view that, Fradel Rurik Korvald was not one to be taken lightly and that underneath it all, lurked sure danger.

“What do I really know of him?  So far there is nothing concrete that I can hold up to him and say, it fits.  All along he's revealed only petty, negligible, and partial (incomplete) facts about himself. Nothing tangible, nothing useful that could be (pinpointed or) indexed for future use.  As always at every exchange, and this night is no exception, I'm stumped when it comes to deciphering his real motives.  Every avenue I explore in his character comes to the usual dead end. Is he toying with me?”

Subsequently working himself up into a state of discontent, Zaur Stugr became convinced that Fradel Rurik Korvald was a master at the art of deceit and that he'd been working all along to beguile him, to lead him astray, to show him up for a fool.  He became livid as he imagined how all along Fradel had subtly manipulated him and, worse still, had nearly beaten him at his own game.  With remarkable willpower, however, he maintained his impassive, amiable facade.

 He could not have imagined that his own cynical view was the very culprit he suspected, the evil contaminant that all along had blindfolded him, obscuring his innate intuition that otherwise might have shed the light of truth over Fradel Rurik Korvald.  Things might have turned out differently then but, being as they were, they now led Zaur Stugr to tread the course he would regret for the rest of his life.  He was locked in this erroneous course (route, path), and no amount of future great accomplishments could mitigate, alter, or amend for, what he would now fail to do.

Habitually, Zaur Stugr’s analytical mind, prevailing over any rumor or an account, did not allow him to capitulate or hastily construe facts without first exploring every avenue available to him, but the “key” and the lateness of the hour in this case after a long wearying (taxing) day, constrained him to make an exception.

05- ZAUR STUGR   JP 29

“All right,” he reluctantly conceded, “you win for now.  I'll play into your gambit.  I was going to anyhow and eventually resolve the mystery for you.  But I promise you that, when the time comes, I'll feed you such a bewildering version that it will spin your head into a daze and unleash your full imagination.”  He absentmindedly nodded to Fradel Rurik Korvald.

“And in due course, with perseverance, I'll break down that elusive (intangible) wall you've put up to guard your secrets.  I'll break you yet.  Wouldn't you be shocked out of your scholar's cap if you knew the significance of that key and, the enormity of the truth about the pit, skeleton, and I?”

All the same Zaur’s spiteful smile died before it reached his lips, as the imagined abominations, the gruesome tortures and, lingering, tragic demise of his revered one, caused an intense angst to overtake him.

Zaur’s ear just then caught Fradel Rurik Korvald’s explanation of, how the meeting with Zunrogo and the subsequent events had unfortunately thwarted (hindered) Fradel’s fulfilling his promise to the old man, Yakkasar.

“Is he still going on about Yakkasar and, that cursed son of a traitor Zunrogo?  When will he drop this tiresome prattle?”

Surmising this change in mood, Nevetsecnuac paused and once more helped himself to some food.  As he thoughtfully chewed it, he marveled at Zaur's tenacity and strong inner discipline.

“Very well, “he conceded, “I'll meet you halfway.”

 

(END OF SECTION 8) 

                                                                                        ~

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 32

 

 With nothing else left to do, Tizan donned (wore, put on) Captain Duko's attire over the light armor he kept on underneath to protect him from arrows then, as ordered, went back below decks to retrieve (fetch) Disaidun Agripe.

This time quite unexpectedly, Disaidun’s spineless husband, having mustered all his courage, charged at Tizan just as they were headed out the door. 

 

01- CEROS AGRIPE STRIKES BACK

Though Ceroz Agripe was half-crazed, filled with remorse and rage, he was still no match for the Lieutenant of Imperial guards and so, with just one blow from the back of his fist, hardly any effort at all on Tizan's part, Ceroz was hurled right across the room, bloodied and almost cataleptic (almost out cold), to crash onto the floor of the cabin.

 "You dare oppose me, wretch!" Tizan’s rage not assuaged, growling he went over to deliver a couple of vicious kicks to the Ceroz's side; the force of the second kick was such, it lifted the massive body up and slammed (smashed, crashed) it against the far wall of the cabin.

 

02- CEROS AGRIPE KICKED TO FAR END

 Tizan turned his fiery gaze back to the woman Disaidun Agripe and bellowed.  "What have you done to him to bring him to such a state?"

Not condescending to answer, Disaidun Agripe simply shrugged and walked on ahead.

“Quite the vixen, aren't you?” Tizan smirked as he locked and barred the door behind them.  In truth he liked a woman with such spunk but, since Captain Zunrogo had taken special interest in her, she was off-limits to him.  Such was the rule he had always lived by and continued to follow. 

Grabbing Disaidun Agripe’s arm forcefully next, and ignoring her volley of threats, he lugged (toted) her to the barricade.  "This is your post.  The captain forbids you to stray an inch from this point…  Understand?"  Only then Tizan let go of her arm. He was inwardly thrilled at her repressed seething contempt for him, and could not help but provoke her further, "We have only a few hours now before the fog lifts.  If you want to pray for your salvation, go ahead; now may be your only chance."  He smirked.

 

Her retort froze on her lips when her eye just then caught the exceptionally crafted crossbow leaning in the far corner.  Walking over, Disaidun Agripe picked it up, examined it carefully and said, “Where did you find this?  It’s magnificent."

Then, she sedately withdrew an arrow from its quiver.

 

“Show off, as if you can discern a good weapon from a bad one.  Some maven (expert, professional, doyen) you are.” He’d inwardly scoffed, fixing his cold gaze at her; Tzan once more could not resist goading (inciting) her, "You do know how to use it, I trust?".

 

Disaidun Agripe did not answer him but, instead, loaded the arrow in the blink of an eye then aimed it directly at Tizan's heart and asked. “Do you want a demonstration?"

This was too much!  Throwing his head back and trusting his hidden armor, Tizan laughed heartily, "Go ahead, I dare you to."

 

03-TZAN JP

Just then Zunrogo appeared on the scene, his stern looks at once sending Tizan without another word, scurrying off to above deck, to take up his assigned post.

Disaidun Agripe’s (Jepipi's) alluring approach was met with the same icy rebuke.

Not taking it to heart, she behaved as if he bade her, sizing up Zunrogo from the corner of her eye and admiring his heroic countenance.

 

“By the Gods, he is magnificent! “Gearing up for this single, bitter battle, she was positive he would triumph over any foe, however invincible, before the end of the day.

                                                                                         ~

 

For seemingly endless hours now, Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi) had fidgeted at her post.  These times preceding an engagement (battle) had always seemed to drag on forever; furthermore, the angry rants and ravings of her half-crazed husband Ceroz, only two doors down aggravated her soul and ignited her ire, making things far worse.

“Oh, why won't he shut up?” Disaidun Agripe groaned, for her conscience bothered her a little now; after all, it was she who had brought him to this state.

“But it was necessary,” she told herself to ease the guilt.  “I had to do what I did to survive.  Why couldn't he be a bit more like his half-brother?  Insipid fool brought this misfortune down upon himself because he's less of a man, he’s so weak! “Her face contorted in disgust.

 

                                                                             ~

 

Yesterday, upon her return from her blissful experience with Zunrogo, she had hesitated for a few moments outside the cabin door, just long enough to dishevel her hair, loosen her belt, scratch her shoulders, and rip her bodice slightly, altering her appearance and assuming a tragic countenance.

 Let inside and, finally free (away) from Tizan's prying eyes, Disaidun had then given an incredible performance of a woman who had been both physically and mentally abused.

 

Ceroz Agripe already looked haggard, his face unusually gaunt and pale, and his eyes sunken and bloodshot.  It tore at his heart and ripped his bowels to shreds, nearly driving him to the brink of insanity to hear Disaidun’s embellished accounts of the shameful mauling (pawing, battering) that she had supposedly endured at the hands of that vile, lecherous old official, Luvet. That’s right; not Zunrogo but Luvet, her husband was led to believe, was the supposed sole perpetrator of this grievous sexual assault on his beloved wife Disaidun.

 

04- LUVET

Luvet’d spared her face but not her body, under her garments, she’d claimed, was all black and blue as testament of his ill treatment. She had brazenly offered to show it to him but Ceroz, the fool, trusting in her implicitly, simply taken her at her word.

Ceroz Agripe was further led to believe that, behind Luvet's seemingly benign, quiet disposition lay a calculating, sinister, greedy, licentious, and vindictive villain who had, from the moment he’d laid eyes on Disaidun, lusted after her and from then on shamelessly had striven (endeavored) to possess her.

The convincing story Disaidun fed her husband was wretched enough in itself but her quiet tears, her unspoken insinuations just compounded Ceroz’s already intolerable existence, his unbearable misery. Highly incensed, Ceroz Agripe’d gnashed his teeth, shaken his fist in the air and vowed to exact vengeance on that dog's spawn. 

“He'd make him pay dearly for his vile deeds, enlist the help of his half-brother, Zohuj Kez and his influential friends, if needs be.”

"And how do you propose to survive this present danger?  You know you're powerless to stop him or them."  Disaidun had rebuked him, then relayed to him the information she’d overheard, when they thought she’d passed out, in Luvet’s cabin.

Luvet the mastermind, Ceroz Agripe came to believe, had conspired from the start with Captain Doku, the two assassins, the Imperial guard Tizan and Captain Zunrogo, and the seemingly upright scholar, to intercept in mid-stream a tribute vessel bound for the Capital with its cargo of gold bullion.

The details of this grand larceny had been worked out months in advance, down to the minutest point and, the specific measures needed for smooth transition and the eventual execution, now had been finalized.  Many more were involved in a scheme of this magnitude, including some subversives planted on the targeted vessel. The few expendable passengers/witnesses, like them, were all imprisoned in their cabins, to be dealt with later; their predictable demise, however, would eliminate (eradicate) any possibility of trouble later-on.

Then she reminded her husband how she had wanted to disembark along with the other, lucky passengers when the opportunity had availed itself, when there was still time.

She blamed him, on his short-sightedness, his eagerness to reach his new post, and consequently, for this terrible predicament.

Her ill luck had also been the contributor. She then softening, had exclaimed, looking as though she desperately sought to exonerate at least in part, his guilt, which further endeared her to him, “How wonderful she was; how so very naïve to believe in nonsensical superstition.” Fool that he was, she could read him like a book.

 

05-CEROS AND DISAIDUN AGRIPE

 “Oh, darling husband, what can we do, what can you do to save me?” Once more she had wept unconsolably, heart wrenchingly.  After which, when she, feeling terribly parched, dried her eyes, and asked her husband to fetch her some water from the jug.

Her husband eager to please and to console her had rushed to do her bidding.

 It was at that point in time, when she looking even more dismal (gloomy), robbed him of least hope, by telling him that before she was sent back, she had been told, but was afraid to tell him till then, how the villain Luvet intended to murder Ceroz and the baby and if she did not agree to be his concubine in future, he threatened to sell her into slavery (bondage).

As for the reasons why, she had been sent back, it was simply to allow her to say her final farewells, while they finalized their plan and corrected prior overlooked areas of incongruity (conflict ).

"Oh, dear husband our bliss has been so cruelly cut short; as doomed individuals we are, robbed of ecstasy of growing old together. You’ll never see your son grow up. He’ll never grow up! “Disaidun Agripe had looked at him with hurtful, resigned eyes then burst into loud sobs to once more, wrench his heart.

She’d watched (seen) from the corner of her eye how self-loathing and reproach gnawed at his entrails, how flustered, how sickened at heart he’d suddenly felt, in his dire predicament.

For a brief second, seeing how she had broken him with her words, she had felt the stirring of remorse tugging at her conscience; but she had already resolved in Zunrogo's cabin to carry this ploy through to the bitter end.

"Don't worry, husband," her heart again hardened, she had seized this opportunity to add salt to his open wounds.

 "I will not blame you for what will happen to me in future. As I said earlier, I was born under an unlucky star; it has been my curse my entire life.  I don't see why it should change now.  I'm grateful for this one brief period of happiness you have given me.  It will be one fond memory I will carry with me to my grave."

Then once again Disaidun Agripe had recounted in detail, the shameful episodes with Luvet; at the end of which, she’d thrown herself at her husband’s feet, imploring him to have mercy and, by killing her right there and then, put an end to her torment.

 Of course, Disaidun knew Ceroz was totally incapable of such an act.  It was just one more pummel of guilt, another whack of disgrace, all, fostering chagrin, to further constrict the loop (strap, noose, snare, rope) around her husband’s neck, to sap his honor, his manhood and ultimately, push him over the edge.

Egged on by her pleading the fool had tried, given it his best shot too; to predictably in the end, when, she had started to turn ashen, when her eyes had bulged out only a little and, she had started to emit slight gurgling sounds, he had suddenly broken off his grip on her neck and then, with a horrified look on his face, fallen back.

"I can't go through with it! I'm no murderer." He’d cried out.

 “What did I almost do?” Traumatized Ceroz Agripe had glared hatefully at those still partially clenched, despicable hands that had almost taken the life of his beloved wife.

He had next, burying his face and fallen on his knees, had sobbed hysterically, uncontrollably, like a child.

 

06- DISRAUGHT CEROS AGRIPE

Disaidun Agripe, her senses restored to norm, though inwardly sullen, going over, had murmured her encouragement. "It’s all right, dear.  You did nothing wrong. I asked you to; I made you do it. You are not to be blamed. You are a good man; you always were.  We’ll be all right."  She'd then sobbed inconsolably as she cradled him and rocked his head soothingly in her arms.  "Please don't cry.”

 Drying her tears, she’d then to further shame him, promised resolutely, “You need not try, dear; I’ll find the strength somehow for us both and, avenge this wrong. This time I'll find it in myself too..."  She did not have to complete her sentence, for he had understood (grasped) her meaning. 

Disaidun would rather end her own life by throwing herself into the cold river and perishing in the watery grave, than suffer further shame. 

Her strong determination only belittled him further, robbing what little bit of humanity was left within him.  He felt smaller than a maggot, slime, a piece of offal.

 

 

                                                                              ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 32)