11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 10

The moment it had happened the news of the shameful episode and Prince Herleif’s subsequent punishment had spread like a wildfire throughout the Palace. The staff nevertheless hid their delighted chuckles and guffaws hidden behind a sleeve or a handkerchief, while inwardly wishing, still worst in store (yet to be) for this particularly disfavored Royal fiend (brute). As it were, no one seriously expected Herleif to one day ascend the throne; meanwhile, five or six staff members had already began expounding on the ensuing repercussions of this recent debacle (fiasco).

Zakhertan Yozdek’s estimation being right on the mark, fifty strokes had been more than an adequate punishment for the crown prince with his low pain threshold; Herleif had to be revived several times, due to the requirement that the offender (lawbreaker) remained conscious during punishment, until all the strokes had been properly administered. When it was all over, Herleif was taken back to his Royal apartments where he was gradually nursed back to health by the assigned, conscientious (diligent) Royal Physician, Enqui Rimeng.

After lying in unconscious state for several hours on the first night, Prince Herleif soon as he had regained his strength, spent the subsequent days and nights ranting and raving, venting his suppressed rage, foul temper, curses and unwarranted vengeful acts upon that vulnerable help who tended to him.

01- PRINCE HERLEIF RANTING AND RAVING

 Those domestics (servants, retainers) who were obliged to serve his unreasonable needs were made to suffer tenfold pain, worse than he had been forced to bear. His unjustified wraths (ire, madness) were only interrupted by ear splitting shrieks when the bandages were changed (replaced); his high-pitched yelps akin a whipped jackal, meanwhile, ripped through the air each time the potent medicine, a stinging salve (ointment, lotion) was applied on his lacerations.

Herleif (needless to say), had entirely missed the point of his punishment, and no one was foolish enough to attempt to reason with him or enlighten him on the elusive logic, let alone this rare, lenient consequence, for which he should be thankful (glad, content).

                                                                                   ~ 

Royal Tutor Worren Youkup’s previous night's soul-searching and sleepless hours of self recrimination, on the subsequent dawn (at daybreak) had visibly left its mark on his face.

Worren, nevertheless, was still adamant (resolute, determined ) to confront Lady Sejon and extract a plausible  explanation from her; hence, no sooner had he dressed and breakfasted, he climbed into his personal carriage and instructed the driver (handler, coach) to take him (traversing across the vast palace grounds) at once to the South Palace gate.

02-THE GATE OF SOUTH PALACE

Worren Youkup once there, while alighting from the carriage he quietly considered the long and brisk (laborious) walk that lay ahead of him before his destination, the compound at the far side of the South Palace where Lady Sejon, currently the Sovereign's favorite, resided. The location, besides being the grandest apartments in the South Palace, was set at the farthest high ridge (at high elevation with many steps leading up to it), with an stringent checkpoint at the bottom, positioned prior to the hanging bridge that crossed over the ecological (natural) deep lake, an intimidating, unwarranted measure, which  displayed her importance and discouraged any trespass from wayward or frivolous (inconsequential) visitors.   

This morning had been unseasonally frigid, Worren Youkup’s breath as he exhaled, let out white plumes of vapor testifying to  the crispness of the morning air; nevertheless, after flatly refusing the offered palanquin (rikshaw) ride, he with an unreadable expression for a spell had lingered at the spot and stared at the long stretch that lay before him. He of course, had deliberately opted to walk off all that nervous energy (in solitude) which had been bottled up within his chest; anticipating that, the physical exertion would placate his troubled heart and mind before he confronted Lady Sejon.

His prior (routine) morning walks had always given him an inexplicable sense of rejuvenation and oneness with nature, as well, effectively diminished (paled) all major disconcerting (disquieting, worrying) thoughts and experiences that often beset (plagued) him. Indeed, in those instances, the knotty (tricky) political affairs and dubious acts of powerful people that aggrieved his conscience, plus the problematic social and administrative duties had always (vanished) melted away by the wafting breezes that gentle caressed his cheeks; then, for a fleeting shining moment or two, whatever had ailed his heart or plagued his conscience, thankfully and indubitably, lost its significance (and potency).  That is what he’d sought to echo (recap) this very morning; thus, his steps anon (presently), promptly and carefully tread on the interwoven, smooth, damp logs of the hanging bridge, for it had drizzled (rained) freshly just before dawn. Worren Youkup, furthermore, indulging his lungs with rhythmic, deep intakes of oxygen, welcomed the soft zephyr (gentle wind) drifting (fanning) off the lake and experienced the familiar sensation, to akin absolute peace and tranquillity, availed by that pristine, crisp morning breezes that buffeted his sleeves and caressed his cheeks.

Subsequently, as his rapid and sure steps advanced towards Lady Sejon’s main dwelling (key residence), the acute tautness (tension) from his shoulders had also gradually eased and he was temporarily thence, got reprieved from the consequential qualms of his present dilemma. Halting for a spell, his eyes took in the magnificent outlay (brilliantly organized lay out, geometric designs, delightful landscape etc.) that stretched out before him; as he did this, he was reminded once more, that, ‘Things were same yet not the same.’

03- SOUTH PALACE - 1 JP

The South Palace (typically guarded by the heavily armed parapets,) contrasted in every viable way from the other Imperial dwellings (compounds, buildings), including those of Eunuch’s edifices (structures). Here for instance, the prevalent architecture by design lost the severity of all others. The manicured grounds, currently awakening at dawn and reconciled by the delicate patterns of the exquisitely adorned, more refined flowers, glistened with the jewel-like dew on them; meanwhile, Worren’s nostrils were delightfully assailed by their varied (diverse, mottled) intoxicating fragrances.

Those brilliant nuggets of flowerbeds, moreover, occasionally held in its centre the mythic nymphs, pleasing female-guardian statues, or the representations of legendary beauties fixed in enchanting poses. To put it succinctly, all was designed to totally inveigle (cajole) the senses, to disarm and place one in an amicable, receptive mood. Worren, likewise, mollified (placated), he watched the butterflies’ flitter here and there; while lending an ear to the ongoing lugubrious symphony of insects and birds, his soul entirely lightened now, of all its (mundane) burdens.

 

04- HEAVENLY GARDEN LANDSCAPES - 9

Unexpectedly, an involuntary shudder just then however, reminded Worren Youkup of the cold, forbidding North Palace where Zakhertan Yozdek resided. The austere Spartan decor of the North Palace was in keeping with the bloody frescoes which glorified hunting, war and the Sovereign's supremacy over nature and the works of Heaven. Every niche and corner held menacing marble grotesques representing War Spirits and Demons. Even Zakhertan Yozdek’s private garden from his apartments was decorated to look more like a battlefield than a quiet meadow.

 

Worren, two days prior had received the summons to render his usual report this late afternoon, a task which he did not ordinarily relished; currently however, this was made worse by Prince Herleif’s recent debacle (catastrophe). Worren, hence, shook his head to dispel those unwarranted, worrisome thoughts and fears that anew threatened to burden his soul and directed his attention instead, on the present fecundity (lushness) of nature, which opportunely once more lulled his senses into a tranquil state. Worren, furthermore, focused his gaze deliberately on the intricate granite walkway ahead that was boarded by glazed colourful (azure, yellow, red, green) tiles that glistened, then on the elaborately carved balustrades (handrails, railing) that boarded it. His steps absentmindedly navigated the smooth surfaces, as he pondered on the anticipated, soon to be encountered labyrinth (maze of) of fragrant orchard trees and then the snaking path of the tranquil bamboo grove.

 

05- SUMMER PALACE GARDEN - JP  3

~

 

                                                                                                    

Worren Youkup’s hasty steps swiftly advanced (passed) through the large, circular moon shaped gate next, and then bypassing into the inner courtyard, he finally entered Sejon's private quarters. There, his gaze was greeted by jewel encrusted mosaics depicting seductive scenes of exotic nymphs cavorting shamelessly across the walls, designed to bring forth euphoric ecstasy of the imagined Heaven.  Notwithstanding his puritanical nature his gaze lingered briefly on them, to vicariously appreciate the frolicking, lifelike, voluptuous pixies (fairies, elves), fertile earth spirits entwined around the carved turquoise pillars that stretched up to the purple ceiling.

Worren Youkup’s feet, independent of thought, then softly glided on the plush carpet past the ranks of vermilion doors flanking the corridor and emitting waves of exuberance, warmth, and secrets, or whispered intimacies. Despite the bustling of the servants rushing to and for, there was such an atmosphere of placid tranquillity that he wondered if the news of last night's events had reached here at all. But of course, it had.

Later on, he would learn that the uproar which had rocked the very grounds of the East, West and South Palaces had not at all disturbed Her Ladyship's slumber. While everything was turned upside down about her, Sejon had slept soundly and peacefully through all the animated gestures, the whispers, the sighs and lashing of tongues. It was as though her physical form and soul existed in the  alternate placid universe.

The North Palace had also maintained the (norm) routine, as the resilient, stout attendants and guards often being quite accustomed to earthshaking events, completed their assigned tasks, with regimented, military efficiency, throughout the night and subsequent morning.

                                                                                                       ~

When her Ladyship Sejon finally awoke at her usual time in mid-morning Sejon was delicately informed by a serving staff (team) that the old tutor Worren Youkup had made his unexpected, early visit and that, stubbornly, he insisted on waiting for an audience (conference) with her.

"If he has so much time on his hands then waiting a little more will not hurt him." Sejon had replied without emotion and continued with her leisurely bath and toiletries. “Those towering bookshelves in the library will no doubt afford him some amusement; let him pass the time there. Make sure he has his treats." 

Having been perfumed and dressed she then consumed a full breakfast in her usual, unhurried manner.

 

06- HER  LADYSHIP SEJON

                                                                                                          ~

Worren Youkup, meanwhile, as per her orders, was congenially ushered into the library and, after making himself comfortable was served a cupful of fragrant herbal tea. A large tray of his favorite small cucumber sandwiches, sweets, and exotic tidbits was also placed nearby for him to partake.

“No, Sejon, I won’t be so easily mollified or enticed this day.” Worren had inwardly scoffed, snubbing the tray of cuisine pabulums (victuals).

Subsequently, leaning his back in the plush chair, his stern gaze had instead, uninterestedly swept over the volumes, row upon row of classic manuscripts and rare scrolls about family loyalty, proper conduct and morals which now taunted him by their incongruous presence in these apartments. But as the hours wore on, in these plush surroundings with the flowers perfume from the garden wafting into the room, it gradually pacified Worren Youkup’s inner fury and iron resolve; his hand meanwhile, had absently wandered over to the tray and, before he’d even realized what he had done, he had already popped several delicious cucumber sandwiches into his mouth. And once he had started, he could not very well stop, and so, with a sigh, he consumed last two of those delectable (scrumptious) sweet comestibles (edibles).

 

                                                                                                      ~

Sejon, with an amicable (cordial) smile, one that did not reach her eyes, had eventually sauntered into the library after her breakfast; but her keen eyes at once (noting) finding the tray empty, her laconic (pithy, curt) yet decidedly dour (terse, severe) look at the servants sent them immediately scurrying off to refill it.     

"What brings us the pleasure of your company so early in the day, Master Youkup?” She inquired pleasantly; her voice filled with respect while inwardly she cursed. “I will tolerate you for a while longer, you old fool, for you still have some use.”      

"You are always welcome here, of course."  She puckered (pursed) her crimson lips and coyly shook her hair once she had crossed the room to stand facing Worren Youkup, who had risen from his chair to greet her.

She was about to add, as you well know, I am more disposed to receiving visitors in the afternoon, but Worren's firm, almost angry countenance froze (arrested) the words on her tongue. After indicating for him to take a seat, she with a certain flair and charming decorum seated herself also, right across from the old scholar.

Observing her placid (tranquil, serene) demeanor, Worren Youkup could not have estimated that, just then, her stomach had in fact, knotted with anxiety.

For a period, they both sat immobile and with unreadable expressions simply gazed (stared) at the other, without a word passing between them.

Sejon held up her fragrant handkerchief to her nose and then pursing her lips momentarily looked away, as she succinctly considered: Courtesy was always the best policy. There was no point in aggravating the old goat any more than he clearly, already was.

"I hope you have not been kept waiting too long, sir.” Sejon purred her insincere apology, finally ending the uncomfortable silence, as she same time flashed him one of her winning smiles.

“That should be enough to placate him.”  She was confident of the effect, being the most enchanting beauty in all the land and typically, the response had always been the same; but Worren’s unwavering eyes had met hers coldly then moved about the room, resting briefly on each of her attendants until they settled on Nijel, her newly promoted yet most trusted and ambitious lady in waiting.

07- NIJEL

Worren Youkup wry (sardonic, cynical) smile fleetingly brushed his lips and then he nodded, “Despite her angelic face, yes, that vixen would be the one.”

 Worren lowering his gaze, cogitated further: Nijel’s keen eyes, before she quickly veiled (disguised) it, had bespoken of ruthlessness, an intense yearning and an unfulfilled ambition…More importantly, since she had replaced the absent Zijur, Nijel had consistently of late, had wormed (inveigled) her way into Sejon's confidence. Besides, Sejon was too crafty to soil her own hands.

Sejon's mind, meanwhile, was perturbed by the old man's cryptic manner; underneath her projected, fragile smile, laid bitterness she could not entirely repress. "How may I be of service to you, Master Youking?"  Receiving no reaction still, she pressed on, "Perhaps, sir, you would wish to visit my son, prince Ma...?"    

"No."  The curt (snappy) and unnaturally loud tone (voice, assertion) caused two of her servants to jump.

 "I apologize for my terse response,” Worren Youkup quickly composed himself, then added, in a low toneless voice, picking out each word meticulously. “However, the sole reason for my visit Madame, is to discuss here and now, a matter of utmost urgency pertaining to ..."  He stopped then his eyes dubiously (suspiciously) glared at Nijel.

"I am at your disposal then, Master Youkup." Sejon, pretending not to have noticed this, assumed instead a baffled (perplexed) look, plus just a hint of vulnerability added to her quivering, caring tone, that completed the pseudo (quasi, imitation) picture of a persona of an eager pupil, as she same time sat stiffly upright in her seat.

"Pray, tell me also, have I or any of my staff, done anything to displease you; speak frankly, your mind, sir, so that I may address (tackle) it immediately."    

Worren Youkup fought off the urge to slip into familiar pedantry. “Oh, you are good my dear, but it won't work this time.”  Her submissive manner far from pleasing him, seen now in a vastly different light, merely served to annoy him and his mouth creased into a grimace of disdain (akin a scorn).

“This brazen vixen is toying with me! Has it come to this, then?”  Though his expression outwardly had not changed, inwardly the resurgent rage had choked the words in Worren’s throat. “She knows full well what she has done, yet playing the innocent…what unmitigated gall she has?”

Worren, adamant at not showing any weakness, exhaled deeply to check his indignation then leaned back. “All right, my dear, we will play this your way.”  He softened his expression and fixed a more amiable gaze on her. In a pleasant tone he next inquired, "I wonder if, before we proceed any further, it could be arranged for us to speak privately."    

"Leave us."  Sejon's immediate, curt wave of her hand dismissed all her attendants, indicating to Worren Youkup that at least she wished to cooperate. They all promptly departed except for Nijel, who had not budged an inch from her mistress' side.

Worren Youkup remained silent; he knitted his brows and his stern gaze simply looked away, to a void space in the periphery of (just inches from), where Nijel stood.

 

(END OF SECTION 10)                                                                        

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 27

One warm, starry night, when everyone had retired early, Fradel's keen senses awakened him to the intruder creeping into the stillness of his cabin.  Earlier, he had opened the porthole and drawn the curtains aside to take full advantage of the soft breeze.  The silvery moonlight streamed unobstructed into the tiny space, illuminating everything perfectly.  In the center of the room the long, narrow blade of the dagger (short sword) winked as the intruder, sensing danger, had halted, and glanced warily about. 

01- THE ASSASSIN

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) waited with bated breath for him to recommence (continue, resume) his advance or, to be stopped altogether.  He did not wish to act at once and apprehend the intruder himself for he had noted that, some time prior to this, Tizan had crept into his room and concealed himself in a dark corner.  He would wait and see what Tizan would do first.

The intruder, having steadied his heart and regulated his breathing once again, stole further across the room, quietly making his way to the bed.  Fradel felt the slight pressure of the tip of the cold blade against his naked flesh and held his breath.

 What is Tizan waiting for?  At that instant he saw his assailant viciously yanked back by his hair and, simultaneously, another dagger appeared at the intruder's own throat.

"Drop your weapon!" Tizan's commanding voice hissed.  "I said drop it!"

Perhaps out of bravado or out of sheer fright the attacker hesitated.  Then the pressure of the blade against his own throat increased and he winced as its razor edge pricked the flesh beneath his chin.

"All right… All right" The Assailant groaned, as a single drop of blood trickled off his neck to fall on Fradel's cheek.

Fradel pretended to have been startled awake just then and froze, wide eyed and perfectly still, as if petrified by fright.

The assailant, grunting, let loose his grip and the dagger dropped; for he instinctively knew,  that had he held on to it for one second longer, it would have meant the termination of his life.  Before he could buy some more time and use his glib tongue to strike a bargain, however, he was viciously yanked free of Fradel and hurled across the cabin.

Then he was picked up once more by Tizan's single hand grabbing his collar (lapel) and shoved against the wall.  The dagger's tip was once more pressed threateningly to his throat.

"You wouldn't dare kill me." The assailant groaned.

Fradel recognized the voice.  Sitting up, he craned his neck to see the face.

"Don't be so sure, Doku." Tizan glowered as he broke the captain's skin with the blade.  "You were a fool to drop your sails and cast anchor in mid-stream.  Did you think that we wouldn't notice?"  Tizan laughed coldly and widened the cut he had made, making Doku wince (cringe).  Blood flowed freely down onto Doku's chest where it painted streaks of crimson on his shirt.

Doku's face twitched with anxiety and contempt.  He clenched his fists as his chest rose and fell.  “Who’d manage (steer) the vessel?  Besides, you won't get far if you kill me.  Release me at once!" He threatened as his eyes contemptuously trailed Fradel, who had gotten up from the bed to put some clothes on.

"Oh, you mean your accomplices Zuak and Yoru?  By now, they're fish-fodder." Tizan grinned venomously.

A small shudder passed through Doku as he resisted the complete surrender of all hope; subsequently, he misinterpreted Tizan's broad, disarming smile and became somewhat encouraged. Dropping his eyes, he said, "Can't we work something out, something mutually advantageous?"  

All the same, bitterness had tinged his voice, repudiating (contradicting) his sincerity. "I have been paid most handsomely.  I'll gladly share half of it with you."

02- TZAN JP

Tizan's face crinkled in an expression of utter disgust.  The threat was most implicit in his silence, then, baring his teeth in a snarl, he Yanked Doku up by the hair.  "Let's move, swine." he hissed.  “Captain Zunrogo wants a few words with you."

Doku gasped, closed his eyes, and resisted being moved.  In a shaking, but somewhat defiant voice he entreated.  "There must be something negotiable for…? All right, all right, you can have it all. “Subsequently, the sheer terror registering in Doku’s eyes, he just squealed, “No, I won't go… be done with me right here and now."

"Don't tempt me."  Tizan Yanked the blade away at the same instant he twisted Doku's arm to his back, straining it to the breaking point then fiercely pushed him outside.

Desperate to break free, Doku pretended to lose his footing, falling face down to the floor; meanwhile, his free hand swiftly removed a hook he had concealed in his belt, and he turned to viciously strike out at Tizen.  But Tizan had seen through this ruse and, with a swift kick at the hook, he catapulted it out of Doku's hand towards the ceiling, where it embedded itself securely in the wooden beam.  As he dodged the next kick, in one fluid motion, Tizen next threw a powerful punch, and Doku (almost senseless) fell back onto the deck.

 "Get up, swine!" Tzen grunted as he landed Doku with a fierce kick to the side; then, grasping Doku’s neck with one hand, he hauled him up onto his feet and pinning his own face less than an inch from Doku, threatened. "You try another stunt like that, and I'll slice you up into mincemeat.  You get me?"  His warning (intimidation) was wasted, however, on the insensate (numbed, inert) Doku.  Grasping once more the limp body with the hair, Tzen dragged it down the hall to Zunrogo's cabin.

Revived to face Zunrogo's fierce, menacing stare, Doku swallowed dryly and dropped to his knees at once.  Fear had tightened his stomach into a hard knot and his head throbbed terribly.  None the less, he was a survivor.  Clenching his fists to stop his shivering, he finally managed to whisper his plea, "Spare me, good sir.  You are law abiding, Imperial Officer; famed for your apt command (supervision, control).  You would not kill an innocent man without first hearing out the circumstances by which he was force into committing this criminal infraction.  May the God of the River strike me dead if I'm lying?  Never have I strayed from the path of truth and righteousness.  Truly, I was forced into it."

His lips trembled, slurring his words, "They are holding my beloved father and son hostage, threatening to chop them into a thousand pieces if I do not do their bidding.  I had no other choice.  My poor wife was already lost to me because of the fever that swept through the region after the floods.  Oh, what will my aged, senile mother do if I am lost too?  Who will take care of her?  Take pity on me, sir.  Spare me so that I can assist you in avenging this terrible wrongdoing.  Give me this one chance to make amends for my mistake."

"Shut up!"  Tizan had lost his patience and, with the pommel of his dagger, delivered a fierce blow to Doku's mouth.  "You miserable wretch, how dare you insult us with your cliché-ridden tirade!"

Spitting out his broken teeth, Doku looked up to entreat the Imperial captain.

"Who?" Zunrogo dourly barked.

Seeing the baffled look on Doku's face Tizan bellowed, "Who hired you to kill the scholar, you stupid shit?"

"I'm not sure." Doku answered then raised the back of a trembling hand to lessen the impact on his face from Tizan's next fierce blow.

Zunrogo waved Tizan away.  "If you do not cooperate fully, I cannot guarantee your safety." He threw a meaningful glance at Tizan and then addressed Doku sternly but with softer tone.  "Now before I lose my patience, I shall ask you this just once more: Who?"

"I don't know!  I honestly don't know!" Doku cried out as he hugged his knees.  "Please, sir, the man who engaged me remained anonymous.  He told me that he was acting on behalf of someone very important and he offered me so much money that I dared not refuse.  He said I had best go along with their wishes, but he did not divulge his name, any names.  He assured me that the scholar was someone of no consequence.  He said it was just a personal vendetta.  That's what I was led to believe.  I'll gladly relinquish all the gold to you, sir.  The entire sum is locked inside the wooden chest, in my cabin.  Take it, take it all.  Just spare my life."

"How dare you insult the captain with your feeble bribe?"  Infuriated, Tizan brutally yanked the prisoner to his feet and hurled him into the corner.  "You think we care anything at all about a paltry pittance that could buy a scum like you?  Think again.  You've had your chance." spitting out the words, Tizan lumbered threateningly towards the broken husk in the corner.

Doku discovered, to his great dismay, that he could not move his left leg at all and that his right arm, unnaturally positioned, twitched a little, yet throbbed with agonizing pain.  Stars danced Infront of his eyes and his head hammered (pounded) something fierce; moreover, his temple (forehead) bearing a huge lump, was sore to his slightest touch.  Fear and adrenaline alone kept him from losing consciousness.  As Tizan bent over him, Doku's face was torn in sheer terror and his eyes moved frantically about in their sockets.  He knew that he would be done for if he did not confess immediately.

"All right,” he wrenched the words out, stuttering through his broken teeth, "it was L...L... Lance Dios...Diostin’s man w... who..."

“Lance Diostin?"  Tizan turned to look slyly at Zunrogo.  "You are not telling us anything we do not already know, Doku." he snarled, his eyes burning into the man's face.

Doku's eyes filled with incomprehension.  "Then...what...what do you want me to say?"

"How many?” Zunrogo, turning, curtly demanded, his expression unchanged.

“How many,” Doku sounded the words, utterly stupefied (confused).

Tizan grasping Doku by the collar yanked Doku up to hold him two feet above the floor.  He could hear the shattered bones and muscle shift back into place and saw Doku's eyes roll back as the wave of pain hit.  “You heard the captain, how many?" Tizan barked into Doku’s face.

03- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 24

"Let him be."  Zunrogo’s stern order was promptly obeyed as Doku’s broken(beaten) body was instantly dropped to crash (smash) against the hard floor.

"Speak frankly and I may spare you."  The captain rose and sauntered to the porthole, his back towards the prisoner.

"I don't know.  How can I?  All right, all right.  Just keep him away from me.", Doku shrunk back from Tizan in pure fear.  "I'll speak."

At Zunrogo's signal, Tizan took a step back then began to slowly pace back and forth in front of Doku.

"He said something about a platoon, eight or twelve maybe." Doku started to volunteer.  In a matter of minutes, on just perceived threat from Tizan, the rest poured out (gushed) from the mortified, badly bruised Doku’s mouth.

 When Doku had finished telling him all he knew, Zunrogo turned and nodded to Tizan, then went back to sit down once more.

Tizan halted his pacing and turned menacingly to Doku, "Do you know what the apt (fitting) punishment for treasonous curs like you are?"

Doku's eyes bulged out in fright as Tizan spat out the word, "Impalement."

Horrified, he turned to implore Zunrogo, "But sir, you promised to spare me if I told you everything. Ayii…"  His pleas were muffled (stifled, muted) as the strong left hand of Tizan gripping his neck (throat) and lifted him up high, Doku’s feet thence (thereafter), dangling like a puppet in the air.

"Don't bother Captain Zunrogo.  You're dealing with me, now."  Tizan tightened his grip, looking into Doku's eyes with a sinister grin.

Doku squirmed in pain as his eyes implored, "Please… For Heaven’s sake, no!"

"Oh, you are so pale.  Did you think that I was about to finish you off?  Yet you must be spared.  The captain promised you that and the captain's orders must be obeyed; I'm bound by that.  So, I must spare you for attempting to kill the scholar.  You will not die for that crime."  For a second, Tizan looked perplexed, as if wanting to kill Doku yet unable to do so.

New hope flourished once more in Doku's heart, as well, tears of relief and gratitude manifested (formed) in the corners of his eyes, anticipating the release from the vice of Tizan's grip.

"Yes, spared…Spared of the extreme death penalty!” Tizan’s icy, sinister tone quickly dashed all hope.  “Still, you did betray your master after taking his gold, and we cannot let that go unpunished, can we?"  Tizan's pupils suddenly hardened as he threw his head back and laughed.  The next instant, a savage glint flashed in Tizan’s eyes, and his right hand at lightning speed thrust the long blade of the dagger into Doku's chest (into upper abdomen) just below the ribcage; left hand’s grasp now released, Doku was hauled up, suspended solely on the dagger’s blade.

Tizan, with a contemptuous grin, in one fluid motion yanked the blade out and allowed the lifeless body to collapse at his feet.

"You've had your fun, now get rid of that mess." Zunrogo's icy tone cut short Tizan's gloating.

"Yes, sir," he responded smartly (briskly) then, grinning, he shouldered the corpse and headed towards the door to throw the body overboard.

Just then the door swung open and Fradel Rurik Korvald, now fully dressed, strode in.  Witnessing the pitiful state of Doku's mangled corpse, Fradel's teeth clenched in anger and his eyes filled with loathing.  He'd had just about enough of Tizan's brutality.

Glaring at Tizan, he nevertheless curtailed his wrath and halted his yen, to strike (pin) down this vile beast with one blow.

Zunrogo, the familiar, cruel half smile on his lips, noted with amusement how Fradel Rurik Korvald's face had fleetingly said what could not be uttered in words.  The stand-off ended abruptly when, Fradel seemingly deciding Tizan was not worth the effort, pushed disdainfully past him.

Putting on a slight grin, Zunrogo rose to his feet to greet the scholar congenially.

Fradel sternly asked, "Was this slaughter (murder) necessary?”

Fradel Rurik Korvald's stare was unflinching, his features set and defiant. “Or is it simply that you reap measure of satisfaction seeing men suffer at the hand of your lapdog?”  He turned to look contemptuously at Tizan.

Tizan, in his raw response, gripped his dagger tighter and took a menacing step towards Fradel Rurik Korvald then, meeting the captain's stern look, stayed his advance.

04- TZAN JP

"My, oh my, put a sheep in a lion's pelt and watch how he bleats." Tizan hissed through clenched teeth as he turned back to the door and briskly walked outside before Zunrogo could reprimand him.

 In truth, from the very start, Tizan’s interaction (dealings) with Fradel Rurik Korvald had been strained, finding it extremely hard to be so congenial or diplomatic in any sort of exchange.

Despite repeated admonitions from the Captain, Tizan’s resentment, of Fradel Rurik Korvald in fact, of his pampered, privileged literati sort, had been such that it shone through his every word and action, despite his efforts to conceal it.

Zunrogo's face had darkened in fury, witnessing this, not so subtle retort from Tizan; nevertheless, constraining himself, he offered Fradel Rurik Korvald his abject apologies for Tizan's insubordination, promised future dire reprimand then, with seemingly infinite patience, invited the scholar to be seated.  When Fradel (somewhat reluctantly) complied, Zunrogo expressed his further regret for the unavoidable, unpleasant experience that the scholar had had suffered this very night, which had obviously traumatized him.  The underlying tone implicit in his words, however, made it clear that he would overlook Fradel's disruptive behavior this once, and this once only, out of consideration for Fradel Rurik Korvald's delicate constitution.  Further interruptions would not be tolerated, despite the scholar's importance.

 Zunrogo's decorum and his conciliatory (mollifying, assuaging) words nevertheless, at the outset had constrained Fradel to adopt akin peaceful (calmer) composure, one more in keeping with the manners of his pseudo identity, and, in turn, he extended his apologies for his outburst and thanked Zunrogo for his tolerance and due vigilance.

Placated, Zunrogo leaned back in his seat, drew a long breath then firmly explained in a measured tone, "In accordance with military law, Doku had to be caught red-handed before we could prosecute then, swiftly penalize him.  I assure you, sir, at no time were you in any danger from him or from his accomplices.  As you well know, your safety is of prime importance to me.  You called this (method of investigation), a vigilante act but, in fact, I have been more than tolerant (charitable, lenient, patient)."  He held up his hand to stay Fradel's response, smiling wryly, and then continued, "As you are well aware, we have been tailed by a certain vessel for a period of time now.  I had suspected but have only now irrefutably confirmed that this vessel is commanded by Lance Diostin who, by all accounts, is not one to be taken lightly.  You see, he has a strong backing; he has also an unblemished reputation for being impeccable in strategy and, even in his youth, being invincible in hand-to-hand combat.  Moreover, his skill with the sword is second only to His Excellency Egil Viggoaries.  I had hoped that, to spare you undue anxiety, we would outrun him until we could enlist some more help.  Alas, Captain Doku, by casting anchor here, where the current is weaker and the river shallower, has forced our hand.”

Without strong winds we have no means of putting (gaining) some distance between us and our pursuer; hence, we have been left with no other choice but to meet his challenge head on."

“Why do you persist in this charade?”  Fradel masked his annoyance under a polite smile.  “You wish me to believe otherwise but, in truth, and without Doku's ever knowing it, you have sanctioned his every move since we came aboard this boat.”

"Your acumen (tact, judgment, prudence) is most commendable, Captain, it is always advisable never to underestimate one's opponent, however competent one may be.  Yet in the case of Captain Doku, surely nothing would have escaped your scrutiny." 

The slight admonishment in Fradel's tone made his underlying message clear: “I am offended sir that you should choose, once more, not to be forthright with me.”

"You flatter me, sir." Zunrogo smiled sheepishly and relented.  "To be frank, we were forewarned from the start of Doku's objective, but I allowed him certain leeway in order to gain a strategic advantage.  You see, despite my hopes, a confrontation with Lance Diostin was inevitable and it was best that it occurred in mid-stream, under more manageable circumstances, rather than some busy port ahead.  In this way I could minimize the danger to you, cut Lance Diostin off from any reinforcements he might have had hidden in the next port, and thirdly, minimize the unavoidable loss of innocents ‘life that might be caught in the fray.”

"It’s most considerate of you." Fradel concurred.  "Yet I am amazed at the extent of effort put forth by those who oppose us.  It is hard for me to believe that a simple poet and a recluse scholar such as I would warrant this considerable investment of arms and attention."

Seizing this opportunity, Fradel next steered the conversation to the hidden reason for Zunrogo's presence there, hinting also at that particular concern which Zunrogo fought so hard to keep under wraps. A subsequent, pointed question, poised at the right moment, almost forced Captain Zunrogo to make a clean breast of it (own up to it) but, again with remarkable cunning, he sprang free from the trap and led the topic instead, to more abstract, harmless avenue.

Unwilling to concede defeat, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) adopted an even shrewder tactic which hard pressed Zunrogo, for a time, to aptly respond.

 Yet once more the captain rising to the challenge countered it with a most plausible explanation, calculated to discourage Fradel Rurik Korvald from ever pursuing the topic again.

 Impressed, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) conceded with due practicality.

05-NEVETSECNUAC IN CAPITAL (2)

This intense exchange had passed under the guise of seemingly innocuous congeniality, yet Zunrogo was relieved that Fradel had been deterred from pursuing the subject any further

“Uncanny,” Zunrogo looking away, pondered. “Fradel’s last hypothesis was dead on; so dangerously on a par with the truth.”

Zunrogo made a mental note never to allow Fradel a similar chance again.  He leaned forward in his seat.  "Yes, in anticipation of your next question, Captain Doku's skills are expendable.  Tizan is perfectly adept at manning a craft of this size. It was with this outcome in mind that, by design, I selected Tizan to accompany me on this trip.  He may be a trifle hot headed, I know, but in the end, he is an able and reliable subordinate. Besides, once you know how to harness his multitude of unique talents, you can make good use of them.  He's indispensable in that respect.  Smiling smugly, he sat back.  "As for your humanitarian concerns, Tizan is, at this moment, locking them all up in their respective cabins so as to keep them, other passengers, all out of harm's way when this inevitable confrontation occurs."

"Then, after the battle, you will release them unharmed and your henchman, Tizan, will not be permitted to lay a hand on them?"  Fradel, with this last question, sought to gain a definite commitment from the captain.

"Under the circumstances, I think that I am extremely generous." Zunrogo, hiding his irritation at this upstart scholar, nodded.  Outwardly he was making every effort to be congenial but under the mask of calm and composure he seethed in anger and resentment.  He had intended on disposing of them, one and all; so as not to leave behind any loose ends.  Now he was bound by his words to Fradel Rurik Korvald not to taint either his or Tizan's hand with their blood.  He did not appreciate Fradel's tricks.  Still there is that old proverb, 'A dog can lose its skin in many ways.' 

"Actually, I've been looking forward to the challenge of this duel with my nemesis Lance Diostin." fearing exposure, Zunrogo steered the conversation away to a more interesting topic.  "There's no denying that he is competent, but he has never before clashed swords with me.  Confidentially, I have been an ardent student of his fighting techniques for quite some time now and, though I do not wish to seem boastful, I have now mastered these skills one and all.  Furthermore, the combined efforts of me and Tizan’s should amply suffice to defeat him, don't you think?"  Looking away, Zunrogo mumbled. “Besides, it’s high time, Lance Diostin’s insufferable arrogance was curbed.”

"Most commendable," Fradel decided to go along.  "I see now that I have no cause for fear.  You, sir, with your keen foresight and ability, will surely succeed in vanquishing Lance Diostin and his forces."

Zunrogo grimaced in satisfaction and nodded, yet something else, some entirely different matter, had just then intruded in his thoughts; Fradel had of course, immediately noticed the slight change in him, how he now seemed anxious to end this polite, trivial conversation.  When Zunrogo turned his attention back on the present issue, he smiled to cover up his thoughts.  "Tonight, since we are keeping up the ruse, our pursuers will be allowed to catch up to us.  Even though the wind has dropped considerably, even during the time we have been here conversing, I expect they will put their men to good use on the oars in order to maintain their swift pace.  Their lightweight vessel is well suited to such a use, but then that, too, I have taken into consideration."

"It is admirable how you have managed to manipulate the outcome you desired." Once more Fradel feigned awe.

"As soon as this fog lifts…"

"Which should be by noon, tomorrow," Fradel injected somberly.

“Was that just a good guess?  How on earth could he anticipate that outcome, so precisely?”  "Exactly," Zunrogo masked his amazement with a nod as he briefly scrutinized Fradel.

 "Yes, it will be then that they will descend on us in force.  Fortunately, the rain will be a good deterrent for any fire attack."  Succinctly then, Zunrogo revealed part of his intended counter measures.

“Oh gods, he's good.  He's so masterful at mind control.”  Zunrogo, awakened bit too late, to what he had just let slip and, disappointed, looked away. “How subtly he primed me to reveal even that much and no doubt, he will fill in the rest.  His artful manipulation is quite astounding, to say the least.  Yet, why does he pursue this course?  Could it be that, under his flattery, he is still suspects me, or, still unsure of my abilities to defend him?”

He discreetly studied Fradel once more but then dismissed the notion. “No, that's not it at all.  It’s his arrogance if anything.  That's it.  On the eve of the battle, he does not much like the idea of blindly entrusting one’s fate to another.  With all that wit, brilliance, and some measure of courage at his disposal, our scholar, being so inept at defending himself, feels utterly helpless and frustrated.  So, he tries to impress upon me his...” Zunjugo quickly hid the look of condescension in his eyes.  “Yes, I imagine it would.”

Fradel, smiling inwardly, in the interim, had nodded tersely then, in earnest sincerity, asked if there was anything, however trivial, that he could do to render Zunrogo assistance either before or during the coming battle.

“Don't be absurd!  What can you do?  You can't write your way out of this mess; this is a real- life struggle.”  Zunrogo, however, masked his amusement; then in a measured tone, choosing his words carefully so as not to offend Fradel Rurik Korvald, he declined the scholar’s kind offer. "It is most gracious of you, sir, but everything is pretty much under control.  However, we would fight better, in fact with an easier mind if you were kept safe and out of harm's way.  Considering, perhaps an unforeseen danger, I must insist that you, along with the rest of the passengers, remain locked up in your cabins, until the danger has passed.  I must beg your indulgence in this.  Please accept my apologies in advance for any inconvenience and rest assured that I will do all I can to minimize your discomfort.  But now I fear I may have done you a disservice, being remiss in keeping you up so late from your sleep."  He stood up briskly, quite impatient to end this polite, tiresome exchange.

"So, if there is nothing further you wish to discuss, I must now beg you to excuse me, for there are still a few minor details that require a brief perusal."

At this point Zunrogo turned, to look over Fradel Rurik Korvald's head at Tizan, who had just then returned.  Motioning the Lieutenant to come forward, Zunrogo commanded him in a stern voice to apologize to Fradel Rurik Korvald for his earlier, inexcusable impudence.

After Tizan begrudgingly complied, Zunrogo asked, "Any problems?"  Receiving the expected, sharp reply, Tizan was then instructed to escort Fradel Rurik Korvald back to his cabin and ensure that all provisions for his comfortable stay were provided for, before he was to immediately report back.  Catching the Captain's meaningful, fleeting look, Tizan nodded in affirmation then patiently waited for the scholar to walk ahead.

 

(END OF SECTION 27)