LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 30

Zunrogo had not been bluffing, when he had earlier subtly hinted to Disaidun Agripe that he knew far more than he was letting on.  Few weeks prior, he had in fact, from the painstakingly gleaned information, pieced it all together to determine just who had written the letter and, more importantly, the contents of it.

01- SHOUZI YOZDEK 1 JP

Lod Shouzi Yozdek, only two years Sovereign Zakhertan’s senior, as children the two had been (inseparable) thick as thieves.  In fact, up till puberty, the mischievous duo, which shared similar characteristics and interests, had once embarked on many hair-raising adventures to nosh (nourish) their innate, perverse appetite for carnage. But for unknown reason or reasons, their close kinship had abruptly and drastically altered (changed) when the two were in their mid-teens; aside from the estrangement, it also transformed their once close bond to that of stealthy, adversarial one in nature.  

At any rate, well before His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek had solidified his rule, his second Cousin Lord Shouzi Yozdek, long since discontented with Zkhertan, had once colluded with Kujoge Yozdek to overthrow Zakhertan in an uprising.  In a moment's madness, forgoing his usual precautions, Lord Shouzi had sent a confidential letter to Kujoge, with certain incriminating words and some details of intended rebellion, with his trusted steward.  Unfortunately, the letter was intercepted, and the mutilated corpse of the steward was, after a frighteningly long time, sent back to Lord Shouzi with a single letter "R" carved into the corpse's chest.

Plotting a rebellion had always been regarded, by Zakhertan, as the most grievous of crimes; hence, even members of the Royal family were not exempted (spared) from the (horrendous) extremely abominable punishments.  Of course, the plot had been abandoned and all plans scrapped or, as Zunrogo suspected, temporarily postponed.  Since then, however, His Lordship Shouzi Yozdek had been living under the fearful dread of his entire family’s (his precious sons, as well as his wife’s family’s, this going back ten generations,) utter annihilation (extermination); meanwhile, his vast resources (funds, assets) were being perpetually (continuously) drained with exacting extortions (blackmails, shakedowns) from an indomitable secret foe (source).

Last two years Lod Shouzi had paid the steadily increasing ransom amount without fail, but of late, more was required of His Lordship, some of it highly dicey. In time the extortionists’ demands became even more unsavory, further contemptible.  The vile deeds which His Lordship Shouzi Yozdek was forced to commit, forever hunted the Lord’s conscience, and made him quake in dread. He spent many terror-struck days and evenings fearing his ignominious end, or worse, of his own flesh and blood beloved’s sons’ abduction and reprehensible demises.

Wishing to put an end to this intolerable (nightmarish) situation, His Lordship had naturally enlisted the help of his longtime friend, the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and they had jointly employed every covert means, sparing no effort or expense, to find the letter and wipe out (bring an end to) the would-be culprits. But despite years of effort, the perpetrators had ingeniously eluded detection, till now.

02-ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 23

Zunrogo mentally patted himself on the shoulder for his latest, crucial string of successes, and then turned his attention back to the woman.

Notwithstanding (despite) his seeming disinterest in the letter, his subsequent manipulative questions and the specific reference to the pouch and its seal, had presently (currently) beguiled Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi) into suspecting that he already had the letter in his safekeeping.

“But how could he have stolen it without me knowing it? He did not lay-a-hand-on-me. And certainly, I’ve never not once, left it out of my sight. Earlier, roughed up by that beastly guard Tzan, could he have …? “

 Disaidun Agripe’s heart palpitated wildly just then and, as consequence (result) of the seed of doubt that he had so firmly planted in her mind, she absentmindedly placed her hand over the hidden pocket near her bosom.

“No, thank goodness, it's still there!”  Nevertheless, she knew she had been careless, way foolish, to even suspect that it could have been nabbed.

Disaidun threw Zunrogo a contemptuous look. “Well played…You think you're so smart, don't you?  All right, so you got me to betray its whereabouts, but you'll get it when Hell freezes over! “

“Furthermore, I have you know, I’m not afraid of death.” She then inwardly lied. “I’ll destroy it if you even so much as try.  Just try it!”  She sized up the distance to the cabin's porthole. Could she be fast enough?

Zunrogo had been thoroughly entertained by the web of conflicting emotions that had passed over her face, surmising the array of her thoughts.  “How delightful she was when issuing those silent threats.  How utterly delightful! “

“But now, it was time to put an end to this fun and plunk her in her proper place.”  Smiling mischievously, he asked, "How long has it been?"

"How long?"  Disaidun Agripe raised her eyebrows.

"Don't play coy with me.  How long has it been since you've had a good one?" he grinned.

This time she caught his meaning.  Her eyes hardened.  Glaring at him she snarled, "Since you seem to know everything, you tell me."

"Oh, why articulate such righteous anger?  You were proud once to be so well sought after in high circles.  You should be flattered that your reputation precedes you, even after all this time."

"That's right," she frowned. "That was all in the past.  I've buried it (former life) long ago."

 She’d denounced it hotly, indignantly then, lowering her head, ejected sadly, "It's so cruel of you to dredge up the past.  It all happened then, before I knew any better, before I had any sense."

"Before you were under eighteen years of age, I believe," Zunrogo cut her short, unfazed.

Truncating her subsequent, near comical retort and words of self- pity, "And don’t forget, just four months before your enlistment into Secret Society of KokuTizanrez…. Only eighteen, eh?  Still, even in that short time you had built yourself up quite a reputation, didn’t you?  Learned a few good tricks too, I'll bet."  He asked forcefully.

"But tell me, how was Zohuj Kez?  How does one worm one's way into the black heart of a eunuch when he lacks the proper equipment to satisfy a woman's desires?  You must indeed be exceptional."

The question had achieved its desired effect and Disaidun Agripe blushed profusely.  “Incredible,” Zunrogo shook his head in disbelief, “after all that she's experienced, succumbed, all she’s been through, the vixen can still blush!”

"How dare you!  What gives you the right to talk to me that way?" She cried out indignantly, trying to hold back her tears but she'd taken this insult to heart and, in-order-to shield herself from his piercing gaze, looked away as two defiant strings of saltwater pearls rolled down her cheeks.  Covertly, she wiped them away as she kept up the angry response, determined not to afford Zunrogo the satisfaction.

He threw his head back and laughed coldly, viciously with sure delight.

“Now she'll be ready.  Oh, but look how frantically she tries to purge guilt and shame from her heart.  How desperately she strives to maintain her dignity and prove me wrong. Oh, poor little vermin (mice), I almost feel sorry for you!”

In the ensuing moments, however, he sustained his heartless prodding, poked fun, and unreservedly enjoyed observing (watching) the predicted change taking root in her, the whole time each struggle ensnaring her deeper and deeper into his tightly woven net.

Disaidun Agripe realized too late that she was hooked, well and proper.

Earlier on she had discerned but foolishly ignored, her intuit warning, that her worst nightmare was about to come true.  Her feelings vacillated to each extreme, according to what he said.  Each tone of his voice seemed to manipulate her responses independently of her will.  Despite her valiant efforts to deny the feelings raging inside her, his insinuations, his rude, suggestive remarks both irritated and enticed her.

Satisfied with the end-result, Zunrogo eased off a bit, though by no means was he through toying with his prey.

“Now let’s see just how ambitious you are.”

 The time was now ripe to tempt her with some purpose, some hope.  Would she take the bait?

 "But tell me, “He changed the subject, "hasn't a capable girl like you ever aspired to some greater goals in life?"

"As if I have a choice," she huffed; the words had poured out of her unbidden.

Checking her discomfiture, she stared back at him questioningly.

03- DISADUN AGRIPE JP 222

“No sense appealing to his sympathy. He has no heart, no understanding.”

 What she had heard about him was all true; he was a cruel and manipulative brute.

“Oh, what's the use?” She hung her head.

She (for a time) thoughtfully affixed her gaze onto the floorboards of the cabin, to hide her deep resentment for him; then, bit the corner of her lip to get a grip and, again, looked askance at him.

“Why did you insist on dredging up the past, if not to humiliate me?  What was the point of all those mean, nasty questions? What am I supposed to believe when, you are stern (harsh, demanding, hardhearted) one instance then turns unexpectedly judicious (fair) and humane (caring, gentle, kindly, charitable) the next…Oh, my brain is so befuddled with all these mixed messages?  What could you possibly want from me besides that, same old, oh …?”  

Suddenly she recalled what he had said earlier on that he may have certain use for her in future.

 “Is he, by any chance, thinking of recruiting me?  Is this just a test?”  Narrowing her eyes, she overtly scrutinized him. “Why else? “

Suddenly Disaidun Agripe bounced back out from her deep depression.  “Then I'll show him a thing or two and just what I'm made of; but first, I’ll get him back for putting me through all that grueling.” she inwardly swore.

“I’ll show him that I have what it takes; then I’ll refuse him flatly.”   Her confidence fully restored; she had the spunk to plan apt retribution (payback).

Zunrogo grimaced as he surmised this turn in her thoughts. It was precisely what he had hoped to make her feel at this point.

“Nearly half the work is done; good!”  He sat back and braced himself for her anticipated questions.

"Why have you sent for, me?" Disaidun shifted uneasily in her seat, her soul unknowingly bending to his whim

"Two reasons." Zunrogo answered gravely after a deliberate, painful pause.  "You did say they meant nothing to you, but how do you feel about that old official, Luvet?"  He looked at her meaningfully.  He had had him checked out.  He was clean.  He was not a spy.  Still, he strove to be certain, to leave no loose ends behind.

"The same," Disaidun Agripe shrugged coldly.  Then, understanding fully what he expected of her, she asked, "You mean all three?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No.", she shook her head spontaneously, studied Zunrogo for a moment then nodded her cold commitment.  "Consider it done."

"It must look perfectly natural, you understand."

"No problem."  Her confidence mounting, already she had conceived the plan in her mind; it had been played out many times on countless opera stages.  "No problem at all. You'll see, even you will be impressed.”

"Good."  Zunrogo was pleased.

“What?  Not curious about the details, not in the least?”  Disaidun thought she was the mastermind of this brilliant plan, not realizing how subtly, methodically she’d been manipulated to contribute to this specific plot. As she was most eager to earn his praise, she now readily volunteered the specifics all in one burst. The simplicity and efficiency of her ideas did please him, but all he let show was his slight amusement.

"You said that there were two things.  What's the other?"  She, with racing heart, eagerly asked.

"Not so fast." Zunrogo chuckled at her keenness.  "Don't you want to know why?"

"Not particularly." Disaidun Agripe lied.  In truth, she was dying to know the reason.

"Good, then I’ll save my breath.”  He paused to watch her desperate attempt to remain calm, to control the emotions erupting within her.  He was sorely disappointed in her.

“You'll have to do better than that.  You're not so hard after all, and you can be read like a book.  One wonders how you've managed to survive this long unless you've fortuitously dealt only with morons!”

He's still testing me; she raised her hurt filled eyes up to him.  “Am I measuring up?”

"Perhaps,” His icy, spontaneous answer startled her.

 But then, “why be so surprised?  So, he’s discerning my thoughts. I made no conscious effort to conceal them.” She inwardly lied to herself; then, looking at him squarely in the eye, she asked: "You would really consider recruiting me?"

“No…It depends."

 The vague answer exhilarated her, nevertheless.  It was more than she’d hoped for.  A hint of gratitude and joy registered in her eyes as Disaidun looked at him needing, searching for some sort of confirmation.  Then a sudden darkness cast its shadow over her dreams. 

She lowered her eyes and shook her head in deep despair, "No, it can never be.  I'm under contract."  Disaidun looked up at him tragically, "They'll kill me before they let me go.”

“I…  I know too much."  Even this low-level assignment she was on had been sanctioned by their leader, of that, she was sure.

“Silly girl; even if I were to consider this in earnest it would not be their opposition I would be concerned with.”

Instead, he fed her further hope, "They are small fish.  They would not dare go against my wishes."

"Oh, I'd be ever so grateful."  Disaidun’s heart palpitated wildly.

Looking up at him with certain elation, as if he was some demigod, she utilized her winning feminine charms, wanting, needing further affirmation; but again, his unexpected stern composure froze her, dead on her tracks.  She abjectly (grimly) lowered her head and kept her silence.

"Your gratitude is premature.” He ejected coldly at this point, suppressing his laughter.

 "You have not yet proven your suitability, and there is still the High Council's decision yet to be made.  However, I may be able to sway their decision if I could tell them how you...” he deliberately left the rest hanging in air.

 

(END OF SECTION 30)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 19

After Nevetsecnuac had consumed his evening repast (meal), he sat down in front of the fireplace and, letting his gaze fall on the dancing flames, waited in thoughtful silence.  At any given moment he expected his late-night visitor to knock at his door, and it was not long before his wait was rewarded.

As anticipated, the stranger, holding a jug of choice wine and two cups, appeared on some pretext and, after knocking, peered in, he then asked to be invited inside.

Nevetsecnuac assented and rising to his feet with reserve, motioned with outstretched hand and half-inclined head, "Please do come in.  I've been expecting your visit."

01- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 25

The captain grimaced wryly, then nodded, entered, and turned to close the door cautiously behind him.  Bowing his head politely, but never taking his eyes off Fradel, he introduced himself as Zunrogo Tugo, Captain of the Palace Guards.

“What?  Zunrogo Tugo; have I heard the name, right?  What are the odds of this happening?”  Nevetsecnuac tensed, recalling what Zhadol had said about this man and his accomplice to Yennic, “Though they may be insignificant in the scheme of things, they have powerful backing and they're treacherous, devoid of all conscience.  That's what makes them deadly for you.”  

Nevetsecnuac’s perfect, serene mask (demeanor) had not changed in the least.  Smiling tightly, he returned the bow and introduced himself as the itinerant scholar, Tonng Yennik.  Noting at once the flicker of displeasure, then of cool calculation in the depth of Zunrogo Tugo’s pupils, Nevetsecnuac smiled inwardly, “As I suspected, you've already checked my identity papers.”

"Delighted to make your acquaintance,” Zunrogo Tugo decided to go along with the charade, at least for the time being.

Tonng Yennik (Nevetsecnuac), a perfect host, motioned the captain to a seat and Zunrogo, deferring the best seat to the Scholar, chose the less comfortable chair.

Zunrogo placed the jug and two empty cups on the small table between them. He proceeded to pour out the wine into one of the cups and then graciously offered the customary draught of friendship, to Tonng Yennik.

Tonng Yennik (Nevetsecnuac), well composed, with thanks accepted the cup of wine and in one gulp drained it; then, filling the other cup, offered it to Zunrogo, reciprocating the gesture. Customary etiquette dispensed with; they soon entered-into a polite conversation.

The topics they discussed, the vast, varying range of their exchange was, in fact, quite irrelevant.  As the two imposing figures, each in turn, mechanically uttered the expected polite rhetoric they were both, underneath it all, intently probing and scrutinizing the other.

Seated across from Tonng Yennik (Fradel), Zunrogo Tugo tried in vain to ferret out the scholar's innermost secrets and gauge his weaknesses, but it was as though Fradel had cocooned his character behind an invincible barrier.  Changing his tack (policy, scheme, ploy) midway, Zunrogo pursued more aggressively and with cunning and trickery, tried to penetrate Fradel's defenses.  When that, too, proved unsatisfactory he tried to subtly goad Fradel towards alternate end.  All the while he felt secure behind the impenetrable wall he kept up around his own personality.

At least that was what he thought.  In this war of acumen and nerves, Nevetsecnuac (Tonng Yennik /Fradel), with his keen perception and resilience eventually eradicated all the obstacles Zunrogo had laid in his path, to subtly gain the advantage and, under the guise of a seemingly passive, cooperative exchange, attained the insight necessary to formulate his own opinion of Zunrogo Tugo.

02- NEVETSECNUAC AS SHOLAR TONNG YENNIC

 Tallying (adding together all the) facts, Nevetsecnuac (Tonng Yennic, Fradel) noted how much more stalwart and intrepid (resolute, hardy) Zunrogo was; moreover, he was infinitely more treacherous and brutal in innate nature, far more than he’d been noted for.  Zunrogo’s complex mind, the depths of his, not easily decipherable, thoughts and, perhaps purposefully misleading and inconsistent habits, made him an extremely dangerous (perilous, death-defying) adversary.  His voice was his only weak link, if you could call it that, for it betrayed his passionless (uncaring) heart.  Despite Zunrogo’s best efforts to appear cordial and disarming in the exchange, there was an underlying intonation of dire indifference and obdurate (adamant) superiority.

“Cold-blooded, arrogant assassin that you are, I know it is not your aim to assassinate (murder) me; or you would have attempted it, long before this meeting.” Nevetsecnuac from the corner of his eye furtively studied this sure foe. “Nevertheless, I expect you will next try astounding me (considering your earlier findings,) with your startling disclosure that you are aware I am Fradel Rurik Korvald; then, after a terse period, magnanimously (rush in to) confer your generous offer of assurance, of safe conduct to the Capital.  And, of course, I'll appear aghast and pretend to let my guard down before, gratefully conceding.  But what else, you're really, after?  What other sinister scheme is lurking underneath that icy surface?  Yes, of course …” Nevetsecnuac nodded absentmindedly, while outwardly, seemingly, agreeing with the captain's most recently advanced viewpoint.

Adding a few pointers of his own, he continued to assess Zunrogo, “Yes, you are burdened with a far greater task than just the safe delivery of the scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald.  Is this a sample of how your master operates?  Ploy (stratagem) within a ploy; while never leaving anything to chance until everything, no matter how trivial, is considered?  Hmm, I'll wager that even Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren is ignorant of the extent of your duplicity.  Very well, I'll feed you sufficient, deceptive, disarming information for your report.  And when you drop or, relax your vigil, then you’ll be dealt with more decisively; for you are one complication I can do without.”

Impressed by the scholar's brilliance of rhetoric, the captain, for the time being, had been forced to inwardly acknowledge that, since all the observations tallied (matched, checked, fit) accorded) perfectly, his host was indeed the real Fradel Rurik Korvald and not some mastermind impostor who had merely acquired his papers.  Yet, instead of being pleased at the favorable outcome of his search, Zunrogo remained very ill at ease.

“Is it just my suspicious nature?  Has the course of this job made me inherently paranoid?  No, this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach is real and all my senses collectively, are sounding dire alarm.  Besides, there are few inconsistencies here that need to be ironed out; true, but they alone are not enough to warrant this hunch, this instinct to strike out at him now with all the deadly force I can muster.  He may even put up a good fight, judging by his robust physique.  How could a mere scholar look so strong, even if he has been living in the mountain wilderness, in isolation, for purported many years?  Yet all the points of contention have been satisfied.  I don't doubt my thoroughness.  Even the absence of his servants has been explained.  I suppose I could hold him here and verify his story, but that would squander precious time, one I can ill- afford, if I am to succeed in my mission. On the other hand, my hunches have never erred, not once in my (lifetime) entire life.”

“But what if, just this once, my intuition is leading me astray?  With such grave consequences at stake, how can I justify this sort of rash action? “

 “Besides, once we reach the Capital, there will be ample time to uncover (discover) the truth, and there, there will be no escape for him.  If he's other than what he claims, he will easily be exposed and eradicated.  Now it is time to end this bantering and get on with the task at hand.”

Half the jug had already been consumed even though Nevetsecnuac, aware of his own intolerance, had been most careful in his intake, taking longer and longer to consume the contents of each cup and accepting only toppings instead of the full cups Zunrogo poured himself.  Still, Zunrogo showed only the minimal signs of intoxication and that, Nevetsecnuac suspected, was also a pretense, a farce not unlike their congenial exchange.

"I am aware, sir, that most scholars of your obvious stature take on, for reasons of privacy, a pseudonym (alias).  May I be so bold, then, as to presume that this is also the case with you and to guess your true designation (name)?" Zunrogo said, ignoring Fradel's facade of slight surprise.

Nevetsecnuac studied the captain in silence, purposely prolonging the supposed suspense.  With a totally unreadable expression he then settled back, "You are most perceptive, sir.  Perhaps you will then tell me who it is that you suspect me of really being after which, I expect, you will be kind enough to reveal to me your real purpose for being in my room at this late hour."

Zunrogo took the bait.  "You are, of course, the very illustrious poet Fradel Rurik Korvald and you have been summoned into His Royal Highness' presence."

The scholar's response was not the expression of surprise that Zunrogo would have expected from one less astute than Fradel Rurik Korvald.

"You have me at a disadvantage, sir.  How long have you known?"

"Since your arrival," Zunrogo lied, hiding his admiration. “It’s a pity you chose a literary career, you sir, would have made an excellent statesman.  You have the natural ability for it.”

"Yet you waited until now to confront me with this knowledge?" Fradel frowned and eyed Zunrogo suspiciously.

"I meant no disrespect, honored sir." the captain hastened to apologize then briefly explained his reasons for coming here.

Fradel looked skeptical.  "Please do not take this the wrong way.  You say that you have been charged by the Offices of the Prime Minister, Lamont Gudaren, with the responsibility of ensuring my safe conduct and timely arrival?"

"Yes.  To do otherwise would be a dereliction of my duty, for which I would be severely punished." Zunrogo interrupted to stress the point.

“I doubt that would be the case.” Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) grimaced wryly. 

"Yet, sir, you have neglected to tell me who it is that I require protection from.  As you well know, I have lived in seclusion most of my life, adapting to a stringent, pious lifestyle; this, to get closer to the natural world which I love to write about.  Outside of family, I have not interacted with anyone any significant length of time to incur animosity.  My literary efforts are not political, nor can they be misconstrued as offensive to any of the noble gentry or bureaucratic class.  Even my deceased father had no affiliations whatsoever with any political group, and no enemies to speak of.  Who then would conspire to harm me?  Holger Province is free, as far as I can see, of all bad elements."

“How much do you really know?” Zunrogo raised an eyebrow slightly as he considered Fradel's question. “Oh, but there's no way you could possibly be informed.”

Zunrogo dropped his guard to laugh sourly; after which he said, “To be sure, law and order are strictly upheld in this province but the existing danger to your esteemed self is, none the less, quite real."

"Why do you insist on being cryptic, sir?" Fradel huffed in exasperation.

"I'm sorry.  I wish I could be more obliging (helpful), but I am not at liberty to disclose anything further." Zunrogo shook his head.  "Perhaps once you have safely reached Channing…”

Looking away thoughtfully, he added, "I'll say only this - that it is a political matter."  Returning his gaze to Fradel he added, "Please excuse me for saying this, but your own involvement is purely incidental."

“You just refuse to commit yourself, but I won't let you off the hook that easily.”  Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) stared back, his demeanor unchanged.

 "I do not appreciate evasive answers, Captain.  I would much rather that you be candid with me.  If, as you have suggested, we are to complete the rest of this journey in each other’s company, then I propose that we learn to trust one another, starting now."  Fradel paused to look meaningfully at Zunrogo, who remained in thoughtful silence for a moment.

“I don't know what you mean,” Zunrogo almost said, but then stopped himself.  An amused smile crept across his face, and he broke into a laugh.

"You are far too clever for me, sir."

"Flattery offends me even more, Captain Tugo." Fradel dismissed the remark curtly, maintaining the arrogant bearing of a scholar.

 "Now I must insist on being told the details which pertain to me that is, if you wish to enlist my full cooperation, sir.  Otherwise, I must insist that, we have nothing further to discuss."  Fradel's stare was unrelenting as he leaned back, still watching Zunrogo Tugo with cold, unblinking eyes.

Zunrogo felt hard pressed to reveal the truth, or to find another plausible explanation convincing enough to assuage Fradel's sharp mind. “Why should I even expend the energy to sway this upstart, when a partial truth may serve as well?  The report excluded mention of your stubborn nature.”

Zunrogo’s smile tightened imperceptibly as he burrowed his gaze at Fradel, scrutinizing him intently.  “I don't know how you found out, but you already know, don't you?  Now you want me to commit myself.  Very well, I'll meet your requirements halfway.”

Zunrogo Tugo shifted uneasily in the chair, laughed sourly and, nodding his head, made a show of resignation.

When he leaned forward to speak, his voice was low, but crisp, "Very well, I will oblige you by being frank, but I trust that the subject of this discussion will be held in confidentiality."  He drained his cup, waiting for Fradel's nod of affirmation.

03-ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 24

On receiving it he put back the empty cup, took a breath and continued in an unwavering tone, "You need not be concerned with this, but our Prime Minister, like all eminent men who uphold this effective and strict administration, has incurred the hatred of some powerful enemies who would stop at nothing to undermine his righteous endeavors.  Since it was Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren who recommended your illustrious self to the emperor at court, he feels naturally bound by the responsibility of seeing that your travel should be uninterrupted and comfortable.  This added precaution was taken in the anticipation of possible trouble or in order to preclude even the least unpleasantness from manifesting itself." 

He grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry if my previous reckless words have magnified the situation and led you to believe that there was real potential for danger here.  I confess, I am somewhat inept at diplomacy, as all military personnel are, I suppose.  I sincerely hope that you will overlook my shortcomings, however, and set your mind at ease.  The danger to your person is only a supposition.  No blatant or obvious threat has been voiced thus far."

“Thus far… You must really believe that I am that naive.” Nevetsecnuac mused. “All right, I'll let that pass for now, besides it is better you think that of me.  From what I've heard, he'd never do that, but go on if you must, keep his name out of it.  Besides, your clumsy attempts to cover up the inconsistencies are growing rather tiresome.”

"In truth," Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), obviously suppressing a yawn, consented amicably, "the trek here has been rather tiresome (dull) if not arduous.  I would, therefore, be most happy to accept your gracious offer of companionship; during the course of which I will look forward to being informed of the latest developments in Channing, so that I won't feel totally out of sorts there."

"I’ll do my best to (oblige) enlighten you.” Zunrogo beamed arrogantly.

“Indeed, so much has transpired even during these last few months, let alone years but I think that I've delayed your sleep long enough.  I will detain you no longer."  Now that he had secured what he wanted, Zunrogo abruptly rose to his feet and, without further ado, he wished Fradel a good night and took his leave.  There were a few neglected details that had been preying on the back of his mind all during their exchange that he wanted to lay to rest before the night was done.

                                                                                      ~

 

(END OF SECTION 19)                                                                             

 

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 34

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 34

At sunrise of the subsequent day with all accounts at the Inn quickly settled, Mouro and his company (Kade Luir and Dag Diez) quietly departed.  Reaching the dirt road they then relentlessly surged forward at lightning speed leaving in their wake a trail (cloud) of dust. Mouro, with secret purpose in mind,  led his group through a different sort of paths (that snaked over a rougher terrain) than the ones he had followed the previous night; nevertheless, despite the precarious topography, they had pushed on relentlessly not stopping to eat or rest until, finally, just before dusk, they arrived at the specific stone bridge, spanning a bottomless chasm.

 There they met up with three mounted guards who had taken an alternate route. Mouro frostily nodded to the fair-haired guard in acknowledgement, a sort of greeting, ignoring the two stalwarts, heavily armed, tall guards flanking him. Mouro held in check his fury, of the two guards’ obvious failure.

01- FAIR HAIRED GUARD

No words were necessary, all dismounting at once, Mouro in the lead, they cautiously led their mount across the bridge.  As they advanced a certain (foreboding) amount of trepidation, however, filled their hearts when no one accosted them on the opposite side; instead, an eerie silence prevailed, heightening the tension of the air. With only the sound of their footsteps filling their ears, those in front cautiously pushed open the half standing iron gates to the temple and stepped across the threshold. All at once (suddenly), the stench of death assailed their noses as they were struck by the sight of countless maimed and mutilated corpses littering the courtyard, floating in pools of their own blood.

"What treachery is this?" The fair-haired guard pointed at the corpses and glared at Mouro.

"Why do you ask me?  This atrocity is clearly the work of the assassin, Zonar." Mouro sneered as he froze Diez's hand on his sword hilt with a commanding glance.  “Not yet!” It spoke. “He’ll be dealt with soon enough.”

"No, this is not Zonar's work.  These men were all murdered by a coward, one who poisoned them before mutilating their corpses.  There's no use denying it, I tracked you here last night.  Your game is up.  Call the rest of your vile dogs out of hiding."  Fradel Rurik Korvald, bristling, with fiery contempt in his eyes, rebuked Mouro.

Checking his surprise, Mouro glared for a moment at the two companion guards of Fradel, seething with burning rage for their incompetence which had now placed him in this predicament; but then in a change of heart, he pinned his wrathful gaze back on Fradel.

"How dare vermin like you call me a coward to my face?  I'll wrest your quivering liver up through your throat and make you eat it with those words." 

Mouro’s hand involuntarily clasped his sword's hilt, itching to strike Fradel down right then and there; but curiosity getting the better of him, he released his grip and, suppressing his fury, with a scathing sneer, he coldly demanded: "How long have you known?"

02- (PINNING HIS GAZE) MOURO KERR

"From the start;" came Fradel's wry response.  "I knew I was not being led to a meeting with my benefactor, Zonar.  I went along; just the same, to see how far you and your goons would be willing to go."

 Fradel, with not a shred of fear, knowingly eyed his companion guards and then cast his gaze to the high compound walls circling him that had just then become dotted with armed foes.

Fifty-nine formidable warrior guards clad in full armor, specifically picked for their competence to contest Zonar's prowess, brandishing their swords, stood their ground, in readiness for the anticipated order for the onslaught.

It quickly (dawned on) became clear to Fradel that these were the inferred agents in the previous night's conversation between Mouro and Hecun, only they were planted, not by Micen as the former had claimed, but rather by the culprit, cunning Mouro himself.  Weaving the web of treachery ever tighter they, accordingly, had spread wild rumors and suspicions about the wine to the intended victims.  But when, in turn, they were invited by Hecun to partake of some, they had most willingly guzzled it down, avoiding instead the laced water from the well to conclude the vile, treacherous deed of barbarically annihilating the incapacitated where they had fallen.

Now, the instant the armed foe had sprung into view from their hiding places, Fradel had, with lightning speed, turning their weapons against them, vanquished (bested) those formidable assassins that had accompanied him. He then with his unyielding, unflinching, solid defensive stance (posture) faced Mouro.

A momentary shudder brushed against Mouro's heart; for unarmed as he was, Fradel Rurik Korvald still looked most formidable.

 Compounding his consternation, Mouro recalled just then Fradel's unusual doggedness (grit) and fortitude (resilience) in the court.  How when he was on the brink, incensed, chained though he was, he had strained his bonds almost to the breaking point.

“A fine, heroic, picture you represent.”  Disregarding his strong premonition of doom, Mouro, nevertheless emboldened by their numbers, simply sneered.

 He threw his head back and laughed uproariously next.  "What gall!”

“Hah; Clearly your benefactor has abandoned you to fend for yourself; what makes you think that you can take us all on, (unarmed) bare handed?" he scoffed.

"I have righteousness as my armor and weapon; that is more than enough. All your evil ways will end here! “Fradel responded sternly.

"And who appointed you judge?" Mouro indignantly spat on the ground.

 "You scholars disgust me, always spouting useless, empty rhetoric! Why not just surrender to your fate, a pretty boy like you, and get down on your knees to beg for mercy?"  Dag Diez just then interjected scowling. He next threw a quick knowing smirk at Mouro.

03- DAG DIEZ

 Before Fradel could respond Mouro, highly incensed by Dag Diez's insubordination, had struck him a severe blow across the mouth with the back of his fist, knocking loose the guard's incisor teeth. The shamefaced Dag Diez, swallowing his fury, spat the teeth to the ground; next, submissively wiping the blood trickling off his chin, he grunted an insincere apology to Mouro.

Ignoring him entirely, Mouro had instead locked his burning gaze on Fradel. Seeing Fradel now in a different light, Mouro (with his hand signal) forestalled the order for the assault and fixedly (keenly) at present, scrutinized this mystifying, worthy adversary.

A scholar…  He looked more Like a...  Mouro could not rightly grasp the… thought.

Disregarding the feeling of an ominous shadow falling over his own self perceived omnipotence and coveting Fradel's noble air; with intense curiosity trampling reason, he scathingly hissed:

"So, you’d anticipated me all along, yet you willingly walked right into this ambush.  That makes you either a very courageous man or a foolhardy one.  But tell me first, since you are so smart at figuring things out, did you also guess that, to create a diversion, the humane physician Sullen Adams would be sacrificed, condemned to slow, torturous death in that iron cage in your stead?"

Mouro had pointed at the discarded, upturned (overturned) prisoner’s iron cage off to the side; but then, answered his own query (question) with a gloat, as he circled Fradel menacingly.

 "No, I see you did not.  To tell the truth I felt no real animosity at all towards Sullen personally, when I presented (offered, posed) the suggestion to Micen Do. Mouro smirked.

04- PHYSICIAN SULLEN ADAMS

“Yes, he was rather an amiable fellow, and we are kinsmen, after all but," he shrugged his shoulders dispassionately; "he brought this on himself.  He had become expendable you see.  Foolishly ignoring all good advice, he kept on preaching justice and morality to Micen and me, as if in such precarious times that it mattered, and worse still, he always stuck up for the underdog, amassing (accruing) unwarranted enmity (rancor, malice)."

Mouro pursed his lips mockingly, "He was supportive and obliging to you as well, was he not?  Well, I had to repay him for his courtesy to you, since you were indisposed.  You scholars, so righteous and honor bound, you always insist on settling all old accounts (scores).”

“Do you wish to know how I did it, how I paid him back in full on your behalf?  No need to thank me for it."  Mouro threw his head back and laughed menacingly.

 "Oh, but it was entirely, my pleasure, your honor (eminence)," then slightly inclined his head mockingly.

 "Yes, you require details…But I'll be succinct.  After his visit with you I had his tongue cut out, his face mutilated and then, bound up like a pig about to be taken to the market for slaughter, he was stuffed in there, to rot in your stead.  But then, it was a strategic (importance) imperative that he took your place and, “Mouro smirked. “Also, that you now perish here, by my hand."

Mouro, facing Fradel squarely (directly) now, brandished his sword.  "Now I will double my pleasure by doing the same to you, only worse! I'll savor your death in bits.  My sword will split you asunder like a ripe melon and leave you swimming in your own entrails."

The absence of fear or emotional reaction of any kind on the stone (wooden) face of Fradel Rurik Korvald infuriated Mouro to the point of total exasperation.

“This is truly a momentous occasion, well deserving of attribution from posterity, for within the next few minutes the overrated illustrious Fradel Rurik Korvald will cease to exist.  He will be no more!" Mouro had uttered the last sentence in resounding voice, disguised as boastful proclamation, as the specific command for the armed force that had already encircled Fradel, to stand ready for the assault (onslaught).

"The only thing you will savor will be your own end."  Fradel's retort was, at first, in an even tone. "By your own vile deeds, you have flouted Heaven's will.  The time for retribution is near at hand, yet you are too blind to see it.  Very soon, in the afterlife, you will be judged and asked to account for your abhorrent crimes against humanity.  Instead of boasting about your prowess, you should be on your knees, trembling in fear, and begging for redemption."

As he’d continued, Fradel's voice by degrees had grown in intensity, thundering across the ground to send cold shivers down Mouro's spine and make his hair stand on end.

"Enough said!"  Mouro regained his grip on himself then, on his hand signal, simultaneously with the rest of the guards, launched a deadly assault on the scholar Fradel.

Fradel repulsed them all.  Dodging and swerving to avert the many murderous, repeated blows, the strikes from swords, spears and halberds as they were thrust at him from all directions, now on the defensive, now on the offensive, in a maneuver unseen before and waylaid dozens of them in a flash.

05--FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC)

Then in an astonishing turn he delivered a fierce, swift kick directly to Mouro's chest which hurled Mouro up into the air and, flipping him over, landed him flat on his rear end on top of the others who had fallen.  His sword flew from his hand, landing upright a few feet away.  Had Mouro not worn his armor under his civil garb, he would not have been able to get up off the ground in one piece.

  As it was, his ribs were unbroken and only his pride was hurt.

"All of you stay back!  He's mine!"

 Mouro fiercely bellowed his order as he rushed to pick up his sword from the ground.  Then he charged (on horseback) like a mad bull straight for Fradel Rurik Korvald, wielding the sword in zigzag, across and interlaced styles.

The well-armed guards, silently nursing their grievance, picked themselves up off the ground and, in compliance, joined the others to assemble into a tight, impenetrable cordon encircling the combatants.  There, with blood boiling and burning eyes pinned to Fradel Rurik Korvald, they studiously traced his every maneuver, his every move during the ensuing hours of fierce fighting.  Avidly they searched to find any weakness in Fradel's combat style, but he appeared to be invincible and continued to be just as lethal without a weapon as his opponent was when armed.

Mouro was a competent fighter in his own right, with an untarnished record of victories over many worthy opponents and famed champions.  Mouro's style of fencing, especially his waterwheel and reverse dragonfly styles, was superb; still, it soon became apparent that he was experiencing difficulty in keeping Fradel Rurik Korvald at bay, let alone in besting him.  Whirling like a devil, Mouro struck, thrust and hacked at Fradel repeatedly but all his efforts were in vain.  After ten rounds, as hungry as his blade was to taste blood, it could not effect (realize) even so much as a scratch on Fradel Rurik Korvald.  Worse still, while the scholar had maintained his strength, Mouro's effort looked to be waning.

When Mouro's blade, meeting resistance under Fradel's grip, suddenly snapped in two in the midst of the fierce fighting, Mouro quickly jumped out of the combat circle to retrieve another weapon.  Diez and the rest of the guards, anxious to display their might, seized this opening and, brandishing their weapons, were spontaneously spurred into action, launching offensive after offensive.  As they continued to engage Fradel, Mouro, having flung aside his broken ancestor sword, pried loose the good sword from the half-severed hand of Hecun then charged back in fury through the lines to join in the fray and again combat Fradel Rurik Korvald head on.

Just then on the opposite side Diez, taking advantage of the general mayhem, had ducked and swerved fiercely to get into a position to fiercely thrust his sword at Fradel's lower back.  Meeting a resistance, he received instead a serious blow to the head which then knocked him to the ground, unconscious.

06 -FRADEL (NEVETS)

 Mouro, deflecting the second blow aimed in his direction, managed to fall behind the lines of fighting men then rushed to Diez's side.

 Instead of lending him assistance, reviving him or pulling him aside, as everyone expected he might do, he instead severed Diez's head from his limp body in one swift stroke of his blade then, stepping squarely over the headless corpse, pushed on ahead through the line of combat to launch his deadly assault on Fradel Rurik Korvald anew.

 In the ferocity of the struggle, no one had stopped to make sense of this treachery except for Fradel, who readily understood in light of what he had heard of Mouro's conversation the previous night.  Mouro's precaution had made it apparent that part of the tale he concocted for Hecun was the truth.

As the Earth was mantled in darkness, beacon fires had been lit to assist the crescent moon in lighting up the dilapidated temple grounds.  Meanwhile the fierce fighting continued without pause as the battle cries filled the silence of the night, disturbing the dead.

 Despite the guards' effective armors, their superiority of arms and their joint deadly assaults, their combined tactical offensives against one unarmed man whose wounds had not yet completely healed, with all the odds seemingly against Fradel Rurik Korvald he still managed to turn the tide of destiny in his favor.

Besides effectively repulsing their ineffective assaults, unyielding in strength and resilience as he was, he seemed to be endowed with a superhuman ability, striking swiftly like the wind.  So powerful were his maneuvers, his deflections and his counter assaults that, in a whirling feat, the blades of his opposition snapped asunder at the hilts, spears got entangled and halberds became totally ineffective as his fierce blows penetrated through the armor to vanquish them all.

 All, that is, except Mouro.

Realizing the hopelessness of their situation well before the rest, Mouro, in mortal fear for his life, created a diversion and had turned tail and ran, abandoning his men in the thick of battle to their own devices of defense or, more specifically, to their own impending doom but Fradel, disposing of the rest in one sweep, had raced after Mouro.

The culprit, Mouro, having previously scouted the temple grounds, knew well which turns to take or which path to follow to avoid the many pitfalls, perilous snares and booby-traps that the years of neglect and the ravages of nature had compounded.

 Having led Fradel to a maze of underground tunnels in the interior, designed specifically by the former denizens to entrap unwanted intruders, Mouro, weaving in and out, tried his utmost, though unsuccessfully, to shake Fradel off of his trail.

“He is so formidable; just my luck to come across someone so prodigious, so entirely relentless….” Suddenly an inexplicable fear filled Mouro’s heart realizing his own measure of inadequacies, limitations, while being pursued by this invincible foe.

 What kind of Scholar was he… endowed with such incessant superhuman qualities? Or was he a Demon posing as a scholar?

                                                                                   ~

 

(END OF SECTION 34- THE CONCLUSION OF THE STATE OF THINGS)