Showing posts with label desire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label desire. Show all posts

Friday, 27 June 2025

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 20

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 20


 After several days of laborious, continuous riding under the incessant rainfall, Nevetsecnuac, chiefly out of concern for his steed, once again sought some form of shelter to spend the night.  Fortunately, at that moment just before dusk, spotting the (orange tiles of) towers of an old, ruined temple jutting above the vast forest to their left, he steered the horse in that direction.

 After several hours of negotiating the difficult terrain and of snaking, ascending paths, they finally reached the long since abandoned structure.

Halting before the unlocked and partially destroyed, crooked, iron gates Nevetsecnuac dismounted and led the horse by the reins, through the opening, to inside. The dilapidated courtyard which greeted them hosted several pools, gifts of the relentless downpours, which dotted the area as if planned for a garden.  The entire yard, housing grotesque rocks, shattered pillars and broken tables and chairs carved out of stone, was completely overgrown with a thick, dark green layer of moss and climbers.  Brambles and thorn bushes choked the pathways.  Oddly enough, one clear, snaking path was beaten through the main thoroughfare, telling of a visit by some person or group in not-too-distant past.

After calling out and receiving no answer Nevetsecnuac cautiously pushed open a tattered, wooden portal which was filled with gaping holes.  It opened onto a large, dark hall where the air was so dense that it refused to enter the lungs.  Nevetsecnuac fetched the small candle from his pocket and lit it to illuminate his way. At the far end there was a ruined, ancient shrine.  The colored inscriptions had long since been gouged, burned, scraped and peeled off and charred, rounded shapes concealed the identities of whatever idols it had once hosted.  Several halls leading from the altar room had all deteriorated.  Broken bricks, stones and tiles littered the ground, some gathered in heaps.  Parts of the roofs of these empty chambers had collapsed, inviting the torrents of rain inside.  The wood floorboards had rotted, and parts had caved in, those still standing were carpeted in moss.  Grass grew in profusion in the kitchens, lecture halls, dining areas and in the scores of half-standing cubicles that, in their heyday, had hosted a great number of monks, novices and the droves of guests and devout followers.

 The few rooms with their roofs still intact were shrouded in a thick layer of cobwebs, dust and mildew.  This endless destruction of the walls, columns and stone altars and statues, undoubtedly inflicted by the hand of man, testified to a tragic, turbulent episode in history.

Nevetsecnuac's memory, triggered by the destruction around, quickly recalled Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon's narrative of the strife between the different religious orders attempting to gain supremacy after Zakhertan Yozdek’s usurpation of the throne and the subsequent strong resistance offered by some loyal monks to the new Emperor.

 What was the reason behind this carnage?  As if in answer, Nevetsecnuac’s eyes were at once drawn to a broken, badly marred tablet protruding from the rubble on the floor just a few feet away.  Nevetsecnuac picked it up, dusted it carefully and examined it.  Well versed in formal calligraphy, he attempted to make some sense of the deliberately obliterated remains of the script.  When he reached a line which ended "\\\NG \\TH V\R", he nodded his head in understanding as tears pricked his eyes.  Carrying the tablet bearing the honored name of his grandfather, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, along with a host of sad, leaden thoughts he pushed onwards into the major courtyard.

Most of the temple's once magnificent, adjoining (connecting) towers, were now crumbled ruins, walls tottering in the wind, totally unsafe to enter.  The main keep, bearing the evidence of a final battle, had decisively and mercilessly been razed right to the ground.

Amid the piles of stone and brick debris which filled these towers’ foundations, there lay shattered and cracked bronze bells, brass tripods, cauldrons and drums, broken blades, staffs (iron rods, bamboo poles), and spears, helmets, some still hosting their owner's skull, and a sea of bleached bones. 

Nevetsecnuac lingered at the sight, overcome with grief.  The tears coursing down his cheek were quickly washed away by the pounding rain as his unguided feet took him away from the major courtyard and into a dark, gloomy hall where an even more gruesome sight awaited him.

 There, at the center, a large heap of charred bones told of the tragic fate of the last survivors.  These loyal monks had fought and died with valor; yet in this length of time, no living being had dared, or cared to do the right thing by them.  Denied a proper burial, they had been barred from entering the nether regions and for decades their tortured souls had been imprisoned on earth, doomed to wander aimlessly. With this new visitor, Nevetsecnuac, however, their torment at long last would reach an end. 

Already having found a place of high, dry, shielded ground suitable for their final resting place, Nevetsecnuac took off his wet outer garments that weighed him down and put to good use the broken picks and shovels lying around the temple.  In the area he chose, protected from flood and erosion, he dug a deep, fair-sized grave and, selecting a stone tablet inscribed onto it a touching eulogy to commemorate the deed of these loyal monks.  Then, with utmost reverence, he collected all the charred remains and transported them through several trips, into the mass grave.  Covered over with clean earth and the headstone put into place, Nevetsecnuac paid them their last respects, intoning prayers, shedding tears and making proper sacrifices of food and wine (apportioning some provisions, as well, part of the plonk, vino, which Yagu had pressed on him at the time of his departure from the Inn) to their souls.

After this important task was completed, he first tended to the horse's needs then selected a dry room for himself in which he laid down his bedding and luggage.  As the pitch darkness blanketed the earth, flames of anguish still searing his heart, his depressed (state) mood driving away all appetite for food, he only downed several swigs (mouthfuls) of the coarse wine from the flask and feeling rather exhausted (spent, beat) he then reclined in slumber. Unfortunately, too many oppressive thoughts rushed at once to crowd his mind and deny him any respite.  Opening his eyes he distractedly watched the numerous fireflies that darted about the room, drawing luminous cursive shapes in mid-air; meanwhile, the sound of the rain drummed in his ears, till it gradually tapered off.  No sooner had the downpours stopped, however, mother nature set off a chorus of croaking frogs, droning mosquitoes and nocturnal chirping insects; all bustling with intense activity, they permanently disrupted any peace (silence) of the night.  Irritated, Nevetsecnuac turned his face to the wall and pulled the blanket over his head to dampen the ringing in his ears.

Suddenly, however, the din of noise, the croaking, had abruptly halted.  Nevetsecnuac sat bolt upright; he thought he'd heard a faint footstep trailing off into the distance.  Springing to his feet next, he darted outside to find no one there.  The frogs, about to start anew, hesitated, frightened by his presence.

Nevetsecnuac knew he would not sleep after all that, not till he resolved this mystery (satisfied with his curiosity) and, thinking that he’d perhaps overlooked some secret passageway during his previous inspection, he quickly lighted a candle and going outside, started anew his search, for be it a living prowler or a vengeful apparition (ghost), of the immediate grounds of the temple. 

On the far wall of one of the halls a small block of stone, previously hidden by a crumbled idol, had been brushed clean of dust. Drawing near, Nevetsecnuac gave it a brief scrutiny then applied pressure to the stone with his palm.  As he had suspected, the stone gave way and sank an inch deep into the wall and, with a faint groan, a secret underground passageway was revealed off to the side.  He traded the candle for a torch light and holding it up high, he descended the flight of dark, stone steps into a long, snaking underground tunnel.

Coming to a fork some way down, he examined the debris on the ground and determined the direction to take was to the left.  He advanced swiftly, but cautiously, he rounded corner after corner until he met up sharply with an obstructing wall.  Feeling around the partition, he stumbled quite by chance on the secret catch that parted the wall. 

After descending the precarious stone steps, further along the path, the tunnel had once, twice then again thrice divided into two segments; each time however, taking his cue from the disturbed debris and cobwebs, he veered either to the right or to the left, advancing cautiously through the dark, dingy tunnel network (labyrinths). 

Subsequently, two sets of footprints in the dust, one large, one small, piqued his curiosity.  As he proceeded, all manners of tunnel creatures, rats with coldly blazing eyes scurried off, frightened by the light, making a small commotion in the process.

Though he had covered a fair distance, he still had not encountered anything other than the resident pests (vermin, rats, mice a coiling snake etc.) within these catacombs. The long, narrow passageway at one point passed a set of stairs which led up to two opposite bolted doors. Singling out the door into which the small, wet footprints led, he traced them until they eventually disappeared behind a third door.  A faint light streamed out from underneath.  As he reached to lift the latch, he heard what it sounded like, a muffled child’s sobs.  Quietly, so as not to frighten the child, he pushed the door ajar and perused the inside before stepping through.  Except for the tall altar at the far end where the faint whimper emanated, the room was entirely empty.

 He advanced swiftly to investigate but, instead of the child novice he expected, there crouched a frail young woman with her head buried in her arms, sobbing pitifully. He was about to gently accost her when she became aware of his presence and, with a start, looked up at him.  Her tear-stained face, as lovely as a flower, drained completely of all its color.  Trembling, she fell on her knees and begged him to spare her.  He rushed to raise her to her feet.

"Please do not be frightened (alarmed).  I'm not going to hurt you.  I'm here to help." Nevetsecnuac reassured her then, bowing respectfully, introduced himself as Fradel Rurik Korvald.

In her crazed state she stared blankly at the scholar, not comprehending his words then again cupped her face in her hands and continued sobbing.  When the reality of the situation finally sank in, she turned and sized him up.  Yes, this is no robber, her face seemed to say.  He seems a decent sort, not an immoral being, I will be safe with him.

 Her racing heart was, furthermore, eased somewhat, when she looked into his kind, gentle eyes and listened to the placating, reassuring words that now began to make sense.  Sighing, she wiped her eyes and whimpered, "Please, sir, do help me.  You must get me out of here."  Receiving a sympathetic, affirmative response, she tried to fall onto her knees in gratitude but, made dizzy by her frail state, she faltered and collapsed instead into his strong, protective embrace.

She was revived and, with (Fradel’s) Nevetsecnuac's support, was led up to ground level where she was given both food and drink, her preference leaning towards the wine more so than the water.

Nevetsecnuac surmised that the woman he’d aided, a rather captivating beauty, was in her early twenties. Once her urgent needs for food and water had been fulfilled (satisfied), the normal color had then gradually returned to her pallid cheeks. Soon as she’d regained her strength, bowing, she thanked Fradel Rurik Korvald profusely and introduced herself as Yenis Luko.  Leaning her head back against the wall, her eyes half closed, she insisted on hence, telling Fradel of her past plight.

YENIS

Some three or four days prior, Yenis could not be exact, while her husband Senson Luko had been absent on business, four stout, armed bandits had, in the middle of the night when everyone was fast asleep, skillfully scaled the high walls surrounding her house, passed through the courtyard, gone through the second set of gates and penetrated the inner compounds into the privacy of the master's quarters, intent on robbing him in his absence.  The rogues, skilled in arms, had then made away with the valuables and her, as she had been unfortunate enough to have caught the eye of their chief.

Her servants and her husband’s two younger brothers, Latham, aged thirty two, and Hacket, aged twenty seven, responding to her screams for help, had been most ineffective at stopping the bandits.  Badly wounded and beaten, this ineffective lot had watched her being taken away bound and gagged.  The ensuing long, arduous ride had, by nightfall of the following day, delivered both her and her abductors to this forbidden, forsaken place.

"I dare not deceive you, sir.  Everything I say is the truth."  Yenis heaved a deep, sorrowful sigh as she wiped a tear from her eye.  Even in her despair, with her eyebrows knitted in a frown, Yenis looked enchanting, bewitching, a beauty.

 "The truth is, even if my husband had been there, he would have been, along with the rest of his family, powerless to stop these wretches."

 She sighed and continued in a murmur, "Though shrewd and cruel, he's old and cowardly, the same as them."

 Looking up at Fradel shyly, apologetically yet grateful too, she added in a stronger voice, "Though I've only known you, sir, for a short while, I feel I can unburden my very soul to you.  Yes, you have a most trusting disposition and have entirely won my confidence.  Truly, I feel I can trust you with my very life."

After a brief pause Yenis then told Fradel how her abductors had drunk heavily, joked and cursed roundly for the rest of the night, poking fun at her.  Finally, the bandit chief, seeing the night almost spent and still lusting after her, had hauled her over his shoulder and carried her to a private room where he meant to molest her.  After bolting the door from the inside, he had released her from her bonds and, smiling peevishly, had tried to woo her with sweet words and promises of marriage once they had reached his lair.  When this got him nowhere the brute tried to force his lustful intentions on her. Savagely smiling, he'd shamelessly groped after her and, hurled his enormous body onto the bed. At this point she gave a shudder and, hanging her head, remained lost in thought for a moment.  "I prepared to fight him with all my might." she said, looking up once again. 

"By good fortune my virtue is still intact." she smiled wryly.

 "No, perhaps it was not fortune; perhaps it was that Heaven took pity on me; for the rogue was so inebriated (intoxicated) that, when he made the attempt, coming at me like the charging mad bull, he stumbled and his head hitting hard the pole of the bed, simply passed out.  Seizing this chance to escape this fate worse than death I rushed to the door, unbolted it and burst outside like a madwoman.”

 “I don't know how many times I fell (stumbled) during my escape; still, each time I cupped my mouth to stifle the cries of pain.  I do not know in which direction I fled, I just ran and ran, beside myself with fear, trying to get as far away from them as I could.  Then at one point, as I leaned against a wall to catch my breath, through sheer luck I discovered the secret passage.  Though mortally afraid of darkness and its ghosts, I nevertheless descended the pitch-dark stairs and hid there at their base for quite some time until I'd gathered the added courage to feel my way down the tunnel."  Yenis cringed.

The following morning, unable to find her in the ruins and afraid of lingering too long and getting caught by their pursuers, the bandits had left.  For two or three days, in a state of shock, frightened by every shadow, every sound, she had waited for the authorities to come and rescue her.  Just when she had resigned herself to death by starvation her savior, Fradel Rurik Korvald, had come onto the scene.  Of course, she had been aware of his presence the moment he'd entered the temple, but she had not summoned the nerve to approach him.  Looking nothing at all like a constable, she feared he was another bandit or an unscrupulous man at the least, else why would he be at this temple.  She stayed out of sight, praying that he, too, would go away.

Desperation and hunger had finally driven her out in the middle of the night, candle in hand, hoping to steal some of his food.  Not knowing how to ride, she had not gone for the horse.  Halfway into her errand she had lost her nerve and, turning on her heels, ran away without confronting Fradel.

"Oh, those days before your arrival, sir, I had suffered so terribly."  She cringed, adding in a tragic tone, "I was practically driven into madness.  I was a lost soul, severed most cruelly from my loved ones, from my protective home by that knave.  My brothers-in-law, Latham and Hacket, pshaw!  For all their boasting and martial arts training, they sure proved useless, weaklings and cowards when it came to facing real adversity.”

“Had I, had someone like you, sir, to protect me none of this would have happened, though it is some consolation that my virtue is still intact.  Still, I will live forever more, in fear that it could happen all over again.  My peace of mind has also been stolen.  Can I ever feel safe again?" She bemoaned cupping her face.

Despite Fradel's (Nevetsecnuac’s) council against it, Yenis downed several more cups of wine, claiming the need to forget her tribulations.  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), conforming to the rules of etiquette, also consumed the same measure at her insistence.  Slightly inebriated, her mood turned coquettish.

"Oh, why must you sit so far away, my voice is going hoarse from shouting?"  Yenis rose to her feet and wove her way across the room towards him.

 "It seems that we were fated to meet Master Fradel."  A tint of red spread across her girlish cheeks as Yenis sat herself close by, “Just as I was fated to be saved by you from this terrible ordeal." Again, Yenis thanked him most profusely.

 In truth she was quite beautiful and almost matchless in grace and allure.  But Yenis’s charms had failed to win him over, for it paled in comparison to Nevetsecnuac’s true beloved Teuquob, who, as far as he was concerned, far surpassed any and all other women in feminine (attributes,) beauty and charm.

"Yes, I'm most fortunate to have come across a gentleman scholar as upstanding as yourself." she smiled bewitchingly.

"Few men could measure up to your moral integrity, Master Fradel.  You must definitely be an immortal, or an angel."  She chuckled as she nodded her head.

"Though I'm here, entirely at your mercy, you have not tried, not one bit, to take advantage of me.  I mean, what can I do if you decide to take certain liberties with me?" Her face flushed (crimson).

"I'm not as strong willed as I was but three days ago, and with all this drink in me..."

Yenis stifled her giggle.  There was more than a touch of provocation in her voice as she glanced at Nevetsecnuac from under her fluttering long-lashes, dropping a few more improper hints.

Yenis spoke alluringly and looked utterly bewitching, as she glanced at Fradel (Nevetsecnuac).  Another in his place, not possessing his integrity and moral rectitude, would have long ago (surrendered to man’s basic urges and) succumbed to her charms.

 As it was, Fradel's (Nevetsecnuac’s) head was lowered and, his thoughts having long since drifted back to his beloved wife, he heaved a deep sigh of longing (pining) for Teuquob.

 In his slightly inebriated state, he envisioned her guileless smile, and his heart ached, yearning to embrace her just once more.

Encouraged by his silence, Yenis continued to pretend, hardly noticing the strange changes (transpiring within her) in herself.  Perhaps it was her recent brush with death, perhaps it was the deprivation of the last few days, or perhaps it was a feeling borne out of gratitude, or was it the wine?  Whatever the cause, she gazed at this rather striking figure of Fradel, feeling at first strongly drawn to him then, suddenly, she was consumed with unrestricted desire.

How handsome his features are, how physically fit he is!  She looked at him, starry eyed.

08- NEVETSECNUAC AT TEMPLE (1)

Indeed, Fradel cut a striking figure of a man; his chivalry, his handsome looks, enhanced, despite his ordinary (riding) garments. He appeared to her most irresistible, liken to a demigod, and, unwittingly, ignited the long-forgotten flames of passion within her.  It now took all her willpower to resist the temptation to brazenly throw herself into his warm embrace.

He’s such an exceptional being, to have so readily, so solemnly agreed to do all he could for me; promising to restore me to the safety of my home and to the bosom of my loved ones; all that with no hint of any repayment.   I've never met (come across) anyone as selfless and as decent as this scholar, Fradel.  Is he for real?  Could this, after all, be only some delirium? 

No, she pinched herself (wanting confirmation); no, I'm not dreaming.  He's real, all too real!  Suddenly her expression clouded over, and a frown settled on her features. 

Then, what's wrong?  I know my beauty is irresistible to men, why hasn’t he tried to woo me to win my affection or, basically, seduce me? 

Her thoughts straying (drifting), she once more luxuriated in fanciful imaginings:

 Oh; we would make such a handsome couple, too.  I would be so happy with him.

 She affixed her questioning gaze on Fradel's lowered face. If only he…. But then, suddenly, a frown appeared on her face. Oh, I’m so terribly, terribly unlucky. Why couldn't it be him, instead of that wrinkled old brute they forced me to marry? 

 I know he has not taken offense, for he has not reproached me or taken his leave which can only mean one thing…. Hmm?...

Yes, of course, she just then smiled knowingly. He's bashful… That must be it.  Sure, he needs a little more encouragement, that's all. 

Her (intrinsic psyche) conscience, suddenly in conflict with her aspiration, reproached her: What’s come over me?  Why am I thinking this way? 

Moments later, the hot flames of passion anew (once more) seared her heart and, with her good sense and judgment clouded, she threw all shame and caution to the wind.  Fluttering her eyes bewitchingly, her face wreathed in smiles, she begged Fradel not to begrudge her more wine, vehemently disclaiming her intoxication.

Against his better judgment, Fradel complied, adding with mock severity that this must be the absolute last, that, after downing this, they must retire.

Her heartbeat wildly as she reached out her cup with both hands to receive the wine.  The meaning of Fradel's admonition had been changed substantially by her own imaginings.  Purposefully, she caressed his outstretched hand.

Fradel, his pure heart denying the obvious, refused to think unkindly (badly) of her.  Quickly swallowing the contents of his cup, he invited her to use his bedding for the night, observed her quick acceptance as she swiftly reclined under the blanket and assumed she must be truly fatigued after her ordeal and having consumed so much wine.  Biding her hasty goodnight, he quickly headed for the door.

Her rippling glances lingered on him, "Must you go?"

Feigning fright, she whimpered, "I don't feel safe here, all alone.  What if...?"

"You'll be safe." Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) reassured her.  "I'll only be in the next room.  There’s really nothing to fear.  Now please try to get some rest, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."

But she knitted her brows, pursing her lips, and slightly trembled as if teetering on the verge of tears and again pleaded meekly with him not to leave.  She declared that she looked to him only with the purest heart, as her Elder Brother, her savior, and what harm could there be in spending the night in the same room with her if he slept apart from her, fully clothed.

Fradel frowned, "It still would not be proper."  He shook his head and calmly urged her to get some rest then he, with deliberate determination, left the room.

                                                                                     ~

 

(END OF SECTION 20)   

Monday, 16 September 2024

THE FISHERMAN'S PRIZE - PART 11

 


THE FISHERMAN’S PRIZE

(PART 11)

 

As it were, Jiense had endured all her hardships, and had remained with the kindly folks for this long, out of gratitude.  Now that the son had returned, she felt assured that her further stay would no longer be warranted, and so since last night she had begun considering her other options and a plausible way of communicating this desire to Ensa.  Naturally she wished to take her leave at the earliest opportunity, and as the sole survivor of her mother's clan, go seek a religious order in order to fulfill her obligation, her purpose for living.

 

That day, the new daughter-in-law did not rise from her bed 'till midday. 

The rest had generously let her sleep however long, understanding her need of it after such a lengthy and tiresome journey.  Ensa and Jiense quietly went about their chores, taking care not to raise any unnecessarily loud sounds that might awaken her.

Yoansu, putting aside his anger of the night before, for the sake of appearances and change of pace, had accompanied his father on his fishing trip.

When Tufan finally woke up, all the chores of the house had been already completed and Ensa and Jiense had gone on to weaving straw mats.  Tufan felt no shame or remorse for having slept so long and smiled condescendingly, hiding her not too flattering inner thoughts of how uncouth these people were. Inwardly she’d then asked, and where is that no good husband of mine? A fine way to start our connubial day with this boorish (ill-bred) lot; I suppose they have forgotten or forsaken the expected, customary conduct/rituals.  Least of which, we were supposed to have risen together, and as husband and wife, come out to bow to his parents, as mark of our esteem. Just as well, I could not feign convincingly, my supposed high regard. They are so petty, so inferior in status!  Ug, Pesky fisherman!

As it were, she’d always snubbed fisherman considering them to be worse than a lazy servant or a street sweeper (vendor).

 Had I known this…But he sure had pulled the wool over my eyes.  She puckered her lips in utter disdain. He better not entertain any notion of leaving me behind. Curse on you Ckarban! I curse the day your honeyed tongue and your filthy hands swayed me into seduction! I should have known better though… For that, I only have myself to blame.  

Fortunately, her dark, contemptuous thoughts had gone unheeded by the kindhearted Ensa, who’d rushed about trying to familiarize Tufan with her new, humble surroundings. 

 

At first Tufan improvising, had put on a grand show of wanting to be useful.  She continued to rise each morning, despite all her efforts, however, at a much later time than the rest, and this always after her claim of uncomfortable sleep.

Orphaned at an early age, Tufan had been brought up by paternal uncle Ckarban and his wife as one of their own. They had two other boys that at an early age had succumbed to illness and died. The sole surviving girl child, meanwhile, five years Tufan’s senior, had always been withdrawn in character, physically heavy-set (fat) and rather plain looking. In contrast, Tufan had very beautiful features, pearly white flawless complexion and a shapely feminine form.  Constant affirmation of her attractive physical attributes (during) in her growing years had made her rather conceited, self-centered and expectant of grander things in life.  She had always envisioned herself as the future spouse of a distinguished man, one that was handsome, rich and powerful, living amidst luxury in stately mansions.  Not even in her wildest imagination or worst nightmare would she have ever conceived of such a terrible turn, of being reduced to living under such impoverished conditions. 

Even though she’d been led to believe, by Yoansu, that this visit was temporary -no more than a month- each passing day seemed to her an increasingly, insufferably prolonged. In her growing resentment, she doubted she would last out the second week, much less a month! What’s more, she’d found the prevalent (overwhelming) stench of raw fish quite unbearable. Using her pregnancy as a particular crutch, she’d complained bitterly and endlessly about her discomforts to Ensa. But no matter what the poor woman did, it always fell short of appeasing Tufan. In the interim Tufan had understood all too well the invisible power, the sway the mother held over her husband and son; hence, Tufan (set out to learn from this and) shamelessly engaged Ensa in manipulating, forcing Yoansu into submission on matters that were important to her. Nor did she stop there. Recognizing Ensa’s partiality to Jiense, Tufan then moved to sway her affections, by showing consideration and kindness to Jiense. Jiense’s appearance from the start- going about the place as she did, in plain clothes, the ones Ensa could spare- had been an eyesore to Tufan; it irritated, rather offended her highly developed fashion sense. 

Jiense is close to my build (dress size) ...  So, why not? Embarking on an idea one day, after a frenzied search through her trousseau, she recovered the least favored, poorest quality dress she could find.  Folding it anew and holding it gingerly as if it was a treasured item, in front of the men Tufan made a special presentation of it to Ensa. Needless to say, ensuing days, she shamelessly reaped the benefits of this supposed generous gesture.

After wearing plain, coarse clothes for so long, Jiense had also been delighted to once more be able to don on her body this ultra feminine dress, even though it fell far short of the quality of the ones her lowest-status’ servants had worn. Of course, Jiense looked absolutely enchanting in it. It was not long, therefore, before Tufan’s success and pleasure (soured and) turned into dismay. 

It came about when she caught sight of her husband's odd behavior: his lingering, unmistakably lustful gazes on Jiense- a most inappropriate look for a supposed relation! (And she should know!)

 Up until then Yoansu had covertly admired Jiense for her beauty despite the loose, coarse garments; now clad in feminine attire, she seemed to him the very vision of loveliness. Unable to mask his inner hankering hence, his unbridled passionate gazes now and then would be glued on Jiense. Periodically the Illicit, profligate thoughts, the wanton desire would make his heart palpitate wildly and his face would flush.

And even when away, Jiense’s glorious countenance still hovered before his mind’s eye, intensifying the yearning in his heart for that eventual intimate union.

The uninhibited passion, the ungovernable signs of lust in her husband, directed so poignantly at Jiense further consternated Tufan. As Tufan held all fishermen, therefore Yoansu and his family in such disdain, she could not rule out an incestuous (liaison) relationship.

Quirks of fate; was she going to be victimized by an incestuous liaison yet again? Only this time the shoe was on the other foot- namely, her husband! But just where would that leave her?

Fueled by resentment, there arose in the privacy of their room therefore, numerous rows between husband and wife. Eventually, some details of these arguments, curses and threats leaked to outside, eroding away the harmony and peace of this humble abode.

Yoansu’s inattentiveness towards Tufan, and in contrast, his obvious affections towards Jiense, had also greatly troubled (consternated) Kaimu. Nevertheless, in absence of any credible proof, as Yoansu had not made any outward immoral moves, he could not be openly reproached. Each time Tufan had acted up, Ensa meanwhile had excused her sins, in one breath. Totally blinded to Yoansu’s failings, deeming the cause to be “a difficulty of pregnancy or homesickness”, Ensa showed great forbearance for Tufan's misbehavior. She urged her son to be more attentive to his wife, to show patience and tolerance for her antics; as well, to give in occasionally to her demands, however unreasonable, to ease this transition period. “Once the baby is born, you'll see the change,” she promised on Tufan's behalf, “things will then be greatly improved between you two.”

Was Ensa really that naive, that oblivious to what was going on with her son? Or was it that prejudiced by mother’s love, she chose to believe in fallacy?

As it were, he could do no wrong in her eyes, nor could she perceive him in any other light, besides the divine one he supposedly dwelled in. This, even after the episode of that odd incident:

In the small hours of the night, Ensa had suddenly been awakened with a strange feeling gripping her heart. Intuition guiding her to the door, she’d then quietly peeked at outside of her room and to her great surprise saw Yoansu standing there motionless before the straw curtain. The makeshift curtain that concealed Jiense’s sleeping quarters! Nonplussed (baffled), she’d watched him slowly raising the curtain up.

Once more Ensa’s heart had palpitated wildly with an inexplicable feeling of dread. She nevertheless could not conceive any notion of impropriety on her son’s part, and so had reasserted: There must be a perfectly good reason, a viable explanation for this. Could it be that my boy has acquired a sleepwalking condition? My poor boy, all this trouble with his wife, must be wearing on his nerves!

Thinking that Kaimu would not be as understanding, she’d but a moment looked away (turned her head) to first reassure herself of her husband’s deep slumber; when she reverted her gaze back on her beloved son, to her relief she saw Yoansu quietly retracing his footsteps back to his room.

But the following night Ensa was again disturbed from her sleep. She was reawakened in the early hours by the barely discernible, light footsteps treading (creeping) across the living room floor that subsequently once more halted before the straw curtain.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, Ensa at once sprang (jumped out of) from her warm bed and quietly darted to outside, barefoot and all, paying no heed to the bone chilling, coarse floorboards. Astonishingly, she saw Yoansu, again in front of the straw curtain, clasping in one hand an oil lamp and poised perfectly still as though lost in deep ponder (thought).

He was inwardly debating how best to proceed with minimal disturbance. 

On the previous night, when he’d rolled up the curtain and observed this breathtaking beauty in abandoned sleep: it had so stirred him, so aroused his wanton passion that, he’d feared he would lose all self-control, act vilely and so risk exposure. The best recourse, therefore, had been to (withdraw quickly) make a hasty retreat.

After some consideration and precautionary measures- such as drugging (slipping the sleeping potion into) her cup earlier this evening, to ensure a satisfactory turn- he’d made his bold advance. Halting before the curtain now he inhaled (withdrew) an impatient deep breath exhaling it slowly. Soon he would be having his way with her as she slept; granted, it would not be as pleasurable or as satisfactory, but it simplified matters.

He certainly didn’t think of it as rape.

No, this was different…It was merely a sweet seduction.  A premature sampling, a compensatory dawn-payment of an impending marital relationship; and later still, when things had played out their course, she would certainly succumb to his passion and willingly surrender herself without least abandon, to his lustful and loving embraces. Was she not of flesh and blood? Why should he, a willing precipitant or recipient, delay the course of nature? In all probability she’d been already drawn to him, he saw the way she coyly, bashfully looked at him. She was demure because his detestable wife Tufan stood in the way.  He was offering her nothing more than a solace. Hmm! Yet he hesitated. No, this would not do. Besides, how can he surrender himself to total abandon and enjoy unbridled passion with such shackles?

Hence, he’d lingered before the straw curtain in an ambiguous feel, torn between wanton desire and that unwanted sentiment of reason that had suddenly crept into his brain to shatter his earlier resolve.

Now, seeing his mother coming towards him, all other concerns brushed aside, he had to think fast of a plausible excuse. But not finding a ready pretext, he improvised (under pseudo solicitousness) solicitously. “Oh, did I wake you? I’m so sorry mom! Feeling somewhat parched, I wanted to get some water!”

“But son,” Ensa drawing nearer still, ejected in a whisper, “The clay urn is no longer kept there.  Don’t you remember? It’s now by the door to enable me easier access from the cistern.”

“Yes of course, how foolish of me.” Yoansu answered hurriedly taking hold of his faculties quickly and walking over to the spot helped him-self to the ladle of water. Refreshing water trickled down from the corners of his mouth, down to his chin and wetted his nightshirt.  He welcomed this cool relief. When he had his fill, he again quietly apologized to his mother for disturbing her, for waking her up needlessly. And after bidding her goodnight, he quickly withdrew into his room.  Once inside, his hands clasped into a tight fist, he leaned the back of his head against the door and heaved an exasperated deep sigh. Phew, that was close! Thank goodness his shrewd wife was still fast asleep!

He sure was parched. Ensa meanwhile carried this thought all the way back to her room.  In fact, she’d been quite relieved to learn that the cause had not been a sleepwalking disorder. Thirst, that’s all it was! But from now on I must remember to leave a small jug of water on his night table. She made a mental note to herself as she reclined her head gently on the pillow. She’d just closed her eyes, when Kaimu, who had his back to her until then, without turning, asked in a grumble.

“What’s he been up to now, in this ungodly hour?”

“Sash, go back to sleep. The poor boy was just thirsty, that’s all.”

“I’ll bet! In a pig’s eye,” Kaimu scoffed under his breath and remained wide-awake for quite some time, his head riddled with grievous, dark concerns.

So, the wild boar was on the prowl!

Yoansu, having come this close to being found out, decided on the temporary postponement of his objective. On the surface everything seemed placidly normal and boringly ordinary; it had to be so, since Kaimu had remained vigilant from then on and watched Yoansu like a hawk! Meanwhile, each subsequent night Yoansu had to drink a convincing measure of the water from the small jug, which his doting mother had unfailingly supplied.

 

(END OF Part 11)

 

(MORE EXCITING EVENTS WILL UNFOLD IN THE NEXT FISHERMAN’S PRIZE POST-    PART 12)