THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 9

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 9

Pressed upon to drink more tea, Alec happily complied and with his earlier inhibitions gradually ebbing (diminishing, fading) he now rattled on: "However, this was not the case at the start, my Lord. The disastrous outcome of the insurgents' initial campaigns had nearly stemmed the tide of this now massive resistance.  The first set of uprisings was led by San Jarl, perhaps you know of him, sir?” Alec paused to receive the answer, but Asger barely remembered the name.

 "He was a close associate of my father.  He first led his followers to stage armed resistance in his hometown district of Noran, in the fifth year of Zakhertan Yozdek's reign. 

Unfortunately, their initial swift victory over the provincial government's forces had given them a false sense of competence; for they were in no way ready to next engage the crack troops dispatched from the capital under the command of General Ang.”

“Though the rebel forces carried an inexhaustible will and courage they nevertheless were disastrously out matched in skill and weaponry. In the subsequent struggle San was killed in action and his entire force brutally annihilated. When the news of another rebellious outbreak reached the capital, the returning   General was then directed to cross the Lug River to the west and wipe them out also.  This he also did with ease.”

"The few that escaped merged two years later with the forces of yet another uprising at the border province… A…, Yes, this rebellion took place in Arkon province… Hmm, just for a spell, I seemed to have lost my train of thought. Forgive me, my Lord; for I must be tired…My head is clouding.” So, saying, Alec sipped more tea, believing it would refresh him.

 It entirely escaped him that both Svein and Asger had circumspectly emptied part of their tea aside and purposely neglected to refill it.

“The region had first suffered flash floods then had a prolonged period of severe drought.  The parched land would not yield a single blade of wild grass, let alone a kernel of grain. 

The masses starved.  Able bodied men, too impoverished even to flee boiled tree bark for soup and dug up wild roots to keep themselves and their families alive.  Yet, the provincial government continued to ruthlessly oppress people and extracted heavy taxes and rent from them, instead of sending the sought-after relief.” Alec shook his head in utter dismay.

“Countless numbers were forced to sell their children into slavery in order to meet these demands.  Such pressures on the part of the local government naturally precipitated righteous indignation (fury) and the resulting insurrectionist army quickly grew to become a force of a quarter of a million men.  Once more the capital dispatched troops to give aid and to suppress these widespread revolts but this time they were under the leadership of another general, one less able and talented than Ang. Ang you see,” Alec sneered, “despite his impeccable record of countless victories, had become a target of jealousy and resentment and, as a result of a trumped up charge, by then had already lost his head.”

"The fortunate outcome of this turn of events gave the rebel forces the brief advantage of victory.  During their occupation of these vital areas, they raided the existing (provincial) government granaries and distributed the stored food freely to the needy masses, winning   them further support for their cause.”

“But then local government agents cleverly sowed seeds of dissension among the rebel leaders and caused them to break up.  With each fighting independently of the other they one by one succumbed to defeat.  All of them, save for a few and Nuer, perished.  In the final skirmish with the reinforced government forces, at one desperate stand, Nuer along with some sixty able bodied men successfully broke through the encirclement and fled to disappear in the marshes. This heroic group came to be known as “61 Defiant”, eventually sought refuge at Lord Shonne Gulbrand's secret mountain retreat in the adjacent province, whereupon they established a more serious underground resistance movement.”

“Unfortunately, the subsequent reprisals against the insurgents' families were most bitter.  Old folks, wives, sisters, children of all ages, all relatives that were left behind, once gathered up, they were then inhumanely, mercilessly all thrown into deep pits and buried alive.”

“Their heart-rending cries haunted the soldiers who had been ordered to carry out this gruesome deed, for days thereafter.  However, the officials were unmoved, and they passed a further decree (ruling, law) to burn and level the homes of all the suspected villagers and other such collaborators as a means of weakening the insurgents’ resolve or altogether deterring any such future uprisings.” Grinding his teeth, Alec continued, "Instead, this genocide, these atrocities only strengthened the determination of those who had gone into hiding and they vowed to avenge all who had been murdered and to fight harder still to the bitter end, till they were rid of this evil regime.  In less than a year's time, having amassed a strong militia, they rose up again and marched right across the border to stage yet another uprising.  Unfortunately, after Nuer was killed in an early skirmish, his followers were quickly trounced (routed).”

"The next rebellion, which arose in the Rue District, failed also because vital information concerning   the plan of attack was leaked to the central government by turncoats.  The result was the capture of the entire rebel force in an ambush.  All the 100,000 men lost their lives by decapitation in a two weeklong public execution.  Blood flowed like a river to dye the surrounding plain, and the sickening smell of death lingered on the air for weeks afterwards.  Their leader, Carr Elof, after being forced to witness all this, was taken to the capital in heavy chains.  There, after heavy torture and a mock trial, he was accorded the prescribed sentence of the law and, in the public market, was slowly put to death by ‘Thousand cuts.’"

Alec groaned, as flames of rage similarly seared both Asger's and Svein's hearts.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Alec resumed, "But he became a martyr to the public, because, right up to the point when his tongue was cut out, Carr Elof continued to loudly revile Zakhertan and his corrupt government."  This said, Alec relapsed into brooding.

 Svein could not resist heaving a sigh, and Asger simply shook his head.

"For a long time afterwards nothing much happened, then, just as Zakhertan was congratulating himself on having rooted out all the troublesome elements in the nation, another much larger, more fearsome and better organized insurrectionist army resurfaced under the leadership of Kade, Shon, Doje and Jary to challenge(contest) Zakhertan's authority and his government’s right to rule!"

 Alec's voice had just then boomed, fueled with the surging enthusiasm that had swelled his chest.  He apologetically smiled and bit the corner of his lip to check his zeal.

"This radical force had the strongest backing of Lord Gulbrand who had enlisted into its ranks the banished civil and military officials. With their implementation of sound military strategy and tactical maneuvering, the virtually unstoppable rebel army quickly seized large territories in Fukken, Lonar, Tarak and Buker provinces. “

“To suppress them Zakhertan Yozdek's Defense department had to marshal more than seven million cash for military hardware and expenses and then mobilize forces from five provinces to the tune of 650,000 troops. Moreover, the central government adopted stronger measures of crushing the sporadic resistance.  Suspected collaborator's houses were systematically demolished or burnt to the ground, in many instances slaying all the occupants in it. “

“Meanwhile, most able-bodied farmers were taken from their fields, displaced from their villages and forced into slave labor in remote border fortifications and castles. The women and children left behind to till and harvest, under strict scrutiny journeyed each morning   to their fields and returned only at night for scant respite.

 At the first sign of any trouble gongs and bells sounded to recall everyone into the walled village square after which the gates of the stockade surrounding the village would be securely bolted.  Any left outside was fired upon by archers or put to the sword.  With such measures the government hoped to sever the least link between the farmers and the insurgents.”

"In other areas they made good use of the provincially controlled militia, who were incorporated into the regular army from the Capital to fight the rebels.  Thus, they were able to, on short notice; mobilize a large force from adjoining   provinces for the effort...  These measures, in addition to the planting of spies, offering timely amnesties, tempting bribes of various kinds, as well as sowing dissension among the suspected leaders, inevitably brought about the sure downfall of any lethal uprisings.” 

“The last bastion of staunch resistance- after several months of continuous fighting, in the final confrontation what came to be known as the “Flakanut Hill”, only half of the freedom fighters were able to break through of the fiery encirclement to retreat to safety.  The remaining   bunch refusing to surrender had continued to fight to the bitter end until they were all consumed by the searing flames.  Their death was not in vain however, for they had forced also a vast number of the government’ forces to accompany them to their deaths.”

"Three- and one-half years later, in the seventeenth year of Zakhertan Yozdek's reign, two more uprisings erupted, one led by Doje and Jary, the other by Kundrick Dufo.  Falling into an ambush at Fenzu pass, Doje was killed in action and Jary was taken prisoner.  Jary was tortured for days, then barely alive, he was hung up at the north city gates for the carrion birds to feed on.  He died an agonizing death at their beaks and claws."  Alec's face contorted in bitter disgust and, as if still seeing the grotesque figure before his burning eyes, gave an involuntary shudder. 

“All was not lost however, the scant few who had escaped death, managed to catch up with Kundrick Dufo's army and they re-emerged in Buo province to take the government's mountain stronghold at Decan pass."

Stark (Asger) was quite impressed with Alec’s apparent resilience.  The drug was designed to reduce his inhibitions, yet Alec had stuck to his narrative with amazing equanimity. At the outset, Stark (Asger) nodded his head regardless of the veracity of this remarkable blending of facts.  Conveniently also, all these supposed rebellious activities had taken place at the opposite end of Wenjenkun, so far removed from this segment of the Empire.

"Kundrick Dufo is courteous to his officers and good to his men, so his just reputation has earned him their undying loyalty.  Each, without a moment's hesitation, would lay their lives on the line for him.  A seasoned campaigner, he is utterly fearless in the face of the enemy and has always fought in the forefront of each battle.  When his army retreats, which is rare, he is the last one to cross over to safety.  Reportedly, each time the army encamped, and new wells were dug, he drank only after his men had had their fill, and ate what they ate, however unpalatable.  The spoils of war and rewards of conquest he has always divided equally among the men, enjoying no personal privilege. That is why to this day, my Lord, the insurgent, loyalist army under his great leadership has remained undefeated and has become the most formidable force to contend with.  They have, with increasing frequency, engaged the Yozdek government's forces, the latest two, at Zenro Pass and Koniko, being particularly successful, with heavy casualties being inflicted upon the enemy ranks."  Alec cleared his throat and smiled wryly, confessing, "This last bit of news, of course, was acquired through hearsay.  Still, I have no reason to doubt its validity."

 

(END OF SECTION 9)

 

 

THE DRAGON’S PEARL

THE DRAGON'S PEARL (REVISED)

Once upon a time in Shu province a widowed woman and her only son lived in a thatched hut by the banks of the Min River. Now they were very poor and since the mother was old and ailing the young boy from an early age was burdened with the responsibility of providing for them both. As he loved his mother very much, he worked very hard from dawn to dusk trying his best to obtain a reasonable livelihood by cutting and selling grass. Many a night he stayed awake worrying that this may not be enough to sustain them; should an unforeseen calamity strike, it would surely mean certain ruin.

Then came a time when his worse fears were realized. That summer a severe drought depleted their already scant reserves, and he was forced to venture farther inland each morning in search of better grass. Even this expanded effort had proved fruitless as what he harvested was not even worth taking to market. Unrelenting, he ventured ever higher into the mountain, following paths never before trod by human feet. Once more he’d scavenged most of the morning and afternoon and being disappointed, with stooped shoulders he resolved to head home when suddenly, over a small rise, he spotted a meadow of verdant grass. In disbelief he rubbed his eyes and looked on anew. It still was there. With bated breath he ran towards it. True enough, the thick luxuriant grass, flourishing on a fertile earth was ripe for the picking. Halting for a spell he breathed in the fragrance of this lush green treasure. Oh, how gently they swayed, combed by the gentle breeze.

“What am I waiting for?” He quickly put an end to his daydream and a moment later began cutting and bundling the grass. He worked well into the afternoon, and it was only when the rays of the sun began to dim that he reluctantly shouldered his heavy burden and made his journey home. Not before making a mental note of the topography of the exact location however, so as to claim the remainder on the morrow.

In the drought stricken land the proceeds from the sale of the lush grass were far more than the weekly pay and that evening mother and son were able to indulge for the first time ever in a more bountiful feast that included fish, poultry and varied vegetables alongside a superior brand of rice.

The subsequent day the boy retraced his steps joyfully expecting to find the remainder of the patch. However, to his great amazement, the meadow was once more fully overgrown with verdant grass. He did not stop to wonder why but set to work at once with boundless energy and enthusiasm and this time harvested the entire field. As he loaded up the last of his bundle and headed home, he consoled himself by resolving to scour the area more carefully on next occasion. There had to be a comparable field waiting to be found somewhere adjacent to this one.

 

You can imagine his delight the next day in finding the same patch re-grown so fully and perfectly he could swear it had never been touched at all. “The field is enchanted; there is no need to look elsewhere!”

Once more he set to work, this time fearlessly harvesting all the grass once more and returning home with his heavy burden. This he repeated day after day as their circumstances became more comfortable, then luxuriant and secure. They now lived happily. However, there was only one hitch; the long, arduous, sometimes hazardous, trek had begun to wear the boy down. Consulting with his mother on this matter the alternative suddenly presented itself. If the patch was enchanted it could perhaps deliver the same abundance if it was planted elsewhere, preferably at closer proximity.

With this in mind, he made the journey the following morning, and instead of harvesting it he dug up each segment of the turf, roots, soil and all and tied them into rolls. Midway through this toil he spotted a most magnificent, luminescent pearl resting in a tangle of root and soil as he rolled up the clod of turf. “Hah, what a pretty find. Mom will like this. ” He stopped long enough to put it in his pocket then continued on with his work, not giving it another thought.

Wrestling this heavier burden down the mountain he replanted it at closer proximity to his home. And it wasn’t until all the patches were laid down next to their cabin that he realized his fatigue and hunger. He quickly got washed up and entered the home to sit at the table already laden with food and satiate his hunger. Stomach quickly filled he leaned back for a reprieve before they cleared the dishes. Then his hand, roaming in his pocket, happened to touch the pearl. Elatedly he presented it at once to his mother. Even with her failing sight she could tell its brilliance and value, especially when it lit up the dim room with a warm glow. Fearing losing it, his mother decided to store it in the unused old rice jar that she kept as a memento from the lean years. It still contained those few grains of rice they had left before their stroke of luck, just enough of them to cover the pearl.

Following day at the crack of dawn the boy jumped out of bed and wolfed down some bread and cheese then, careful not to wake his sleeping mom, dashed outside to begin his harvest. What greeted him however, wrenched his heart. There was no lush grass, just a dried withered bald patch with a few dried brown stalks poking up from the dust. “I’ve ruined everything.” His eyes brimming with tears he turned towards the house to relay this terrible news to his mom. Just then a scream from the house hastened his steps.

“What is it mama?” He shouted the moment he entered the premise.

“Look,” She pointed at the old rice container, “See it for yourself.”

Indeed, the moment he lifted the lid, a miracle that greeted his eyes: the old rice container was full of fresh white, fragrant rice and, on top, the large pearl glowed warmly.

Mother and son exchanged a knowing look. Later when the son told his mom of his failure with the patch, it became crystal clear that the pearl was the true source of magic. In order to be absolutely sure however, they now placed the pearl in the money box that contained only few coins, then carefully hid it under the bed.

The following morning, even before breakfasting the son was asked to retrieve it, as it was too heavy and cumbersome for her to fetch. True enough, it did feel heavier. It came as no surprise to both when, after the lid was lifted, the bounty of cash was discovered, the pearl perched on top.

This being proof positive they knew how to proceed from then on. They used the magic pearl sparingly and wisely, reciprocating the kindness of neighbours that had once aided them in their time of need. Knowing what it is like to be poor their unstinting kindness extended to those others, even strangers that happened to be caught in dire straits. Despite all the goodwill, the mother and son’s apparent improved fortunes, in time drew unwarranted attention, curiosity and some envy from their neighbours in their small village.

The secret could no longer be contained. Through coercion and trickery, the source of their wealth was eventually discovered. The word spread like wildfire and soon after a mob of villagers, some friendly, a few not so friendly, gathered by the house demanding in a loud uproar to see this phantom pearl for themselves. Goaded to prove that the reasons for their recent prosperity did not involve thievery, the boy foolishly fetched the pearl then held it up for all to see. The glow at first mesmerized all the onlookers but, far from being assuaged, the crowd grew restless and resentful.

Why should they be the sole possessors of such a gift from the Heavens? Everyone wanted a turn at possessing it. Each coveted it; and some demanded immediate ownership of the pearl for more righteous, personal reasons. Tempers flared and faces became distorted with loathing, greed and revulsion. The tumult grew increasingly uglier and the situation more volatile.

Fearing the impending assault on himself, on his mother, or the theft of the pearl, the boy impetuously popped the pearl into his mouth to keep it safe. In that pandemonium, however, the boy was shoved to and for and, giving in to reflex, the pearl dropped through his oesophagus. All at once he was overwhelmed with the sensation of being scorched from inside the stomach; an unbearable, searing fire consumed his innards.

“Water! Water!” Screaming, he dashed to the well at the side of the house and, as fast as he could haul the buckets out, consuming the water until the well ran dry. Still burning up, he ran in a frenzy to throw his body down to the bank to the river and began to lap it up. He drank and drank, but nothing could assuage the all-consuming sensation of burning. The stunned villagers watched in horrified amazement as the once mighty river Min was diminished to a trickle, then that too disappeared. As the last drop flowed down the boy’s throat, a huge crack of thunder tore up the sky. The Earth trembled as countless forks of lightning flashed across the sky heralding the eruption of a violent storm and a deluge of rain that threatened to drown them all.

“Now you’ve done it! Heaven is angered. Flee, flee for your lives!” The shouts scattered most of the crowds. Others, with wobbling legs, fell on their knees and covered their heads and faces in terror. Amidst curses and lamentations, they bewailed their ill fate in wavering voices.

Meanwhile the boy had begun to tremble uncontrollably as he grew and grew. His desperate mother, forgetting her own terror, hung on to his legs with all her strength, but he was beyond help. Horns sprouted on his forehead and his eyes grew wider and larger their red glow emitting tendrils of fire. His skin was also altered gradually but surely into scales. Now at mammoth size, his dismayed mother watched in sad resignation, as her beloved son transformed into a Dragon. Too late she remembered the legend of every water dragon possessing a treasured magic pearl, and only then grasped that the pearl had originally belonged to the dragon guarding this river.

The deluge meanwhile had filled the river once more and her darling boy, now a dragon, started to glide towards it. With courage only a mother has she clung onto his scaly foot but, with a gentle pull, he freed himself. He slithered towards the torrent as his very motion threw up mud-banks along the sides of the river. Love is a powerful bond and so, each time that she cried out to him, the dragon did turn his mammoth body to briefly gaze her. After an angst-ridden roar however, he slid beneath the torrent of the river Min. 

To this day the mud banks on the river Min are referred to as the “Looking Back at Mother” banks, in memory of the boy who’d swallowed the pearl and transformed into a mighty River Dragon. True to the boy’s generous nature, the Dragon of the River fed and nourished the crops of the villages along his banks from that day on, and there has never again been such a taxing drought in that province.

The End