LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 16

 At a safe distance Nevetsecnuac brought the horse to a halt, with a purpose of discarding the load of game into a roadside ditch to unburden the horse and gain more speed. Suddenly however, from the far-away dense forest’s edge, he spotted a woodcutter emerging and inclined to do a good turn, spurred the horse off the road and over the rougher terrain towards him.

01- LOOKING AT THE WOODS

 Nevetsecnuac hailed the woodsman, then halted his mount at hearing range of the other; catching his eye, he then graciously inclined his head and after a polite greeting, pointed at the load of game at the back of the mare and next, generously offered the woodcutter, as gift, the entire load of game.

The stalwart, middle-aged tall man, hardly believing his ears, dropped his bundle of firewood and rushed forward enthusiastically to accept the load (furs and carcasses) that Nevetsecnuac had offered him.

At midpoint of his advance, however, the man's face suddenly, unexpectedly clouded over with deep concern and, abruptly halting his step, he locked both arms to his sides.  Shaking his head in adamant refusal, he knitted his brows and, sizing Nevetsecnuac up and down with suspicion, dubiously asked, "And why should you want to do that…us, being strangers and all that?"

His meaning was all too clear, and his tone spoke volumes.  He was accusing Nevetsecnuac of theft or even worse.

02-WOODSMAN 2

Nevetsecnuac, who was about to dismount and unpack the load from the horse, hesitated, a dark shadow crossing his face and he presently regretted his prior decision not to simply discard the game at the roadside.  As it were, another in his place, finding the woodcutter's scrutiny unwarranted and his suspicions highly offensive, would have at least berated the wretch on the spot for his ungrateful and rude conduct.

 Nevetsecnuac, however, had remarkably constrained his deep disappointment and disregarding the slight (slur) , had inclined his head to first introduce himself, using an alias he had concocted on the spot; then, with eloquence and dignity, strove to allay (dispel) the woodcutter’s fears and qualms by assuring latter (other) that the game had been honestly attained. The only hindrance, however, lay in Nevetsecnuac’s inability to invent, a most plausible explanation as to, why he would hunt so much game just to discard it all away to mere stranger in the middle of nowhere.

Highly suspicious woodcutter’s response by rights should not have been that much of a surprise; characteristically, with eyes narrowed, snarling, woodcutter had typically just then burst, “What do you take me for? I’m not a simpleton in some border town you can easily manipulate! No, I won't buy any of this.  You're most definitely up to no good and, if I were to accept this booty (as your accomplice,) it will surely land me in serious trouble.  You don't even talk like a hunter.  You're no common man, more like a …”  He paused briefly as his mind searched for words like academic, official, scholar?  “And you're certainly not from these parts.  There's no use denying it, I've lived here practically all my life.  You're definitely not from here and you're most certainly up to some mischief."  With each utterance his voice had become louder and (threatening) hostile then, brandishing his axe, he menacingly stepped forward and (spitting venom, simply) glared at Nevetsecnuac.

"I may be a rough woodcutter to you, but I can still fight as well as any seasoned squaddie (soldier, private, warrior).  Go find yourself another stooge to pin your heinous crimes on."  As he spoke, the man was inwardly cursing the infirmities heaped on him by his hard existence.  “In my heyday (prime), I'd overcome this brute in an instant; then, thief that he is, I could’ve turned him over to the authorities and get me a big, fat reward, instead of uttering idle threats and wasting my breath.” He inwardly scoffed (jeered).

"As you wish,” Nevetsecnuac was beginning to lose patience; but then on second thought, he again forced constraint on his temper and ejected evenly, "I'm sorry if I have unintentionally caused you unwarranted trepidation and much undue anxiety, sir.  Please accept my sincerest apologies.  I will trouble you no longer."

03- NEVETSECNUAC THE HUNTER 14- JP

 Nevetsecnuac steered (turned, coxed) his mount around to leave this ungrateful woodcutter; his intention was to discard the amassed game, carcasses, secured on the back of the mare, somewhere else, anywhere but here, and further along the route the better.

The shrewd and lithe (nimble) woodcutter, meanwhile, had vacillated in his resolve, though only for a spell, regretting his hasty rebuff.  “Could he have misjudged this youth? He should have trusted his prior instinct, instead of letting fear and disbelief cloud his judgement, perhaps erroneously. But no,” his stubborn heart rebuffed it; his inner caution resurfacing again. 

“Why should he make me such a generous gift, unless there is mischief involved?”

His brain colluding (scheming) had rattled on, while machinating thoughts alongside registering in lightning speed, forced his mind to further consider all aspects with more clarity and depth, to arrive at sly plot.

Certainly, game was prevalent in the mountains, but the land was equally perilous and riddled with pitfalls and the amount of game the solitary hunter had had with him, as competent as he appeared, still told of at least a week's worth of effort.  Why should the hunter discard it all, when he could easily make a handsome profit for the lot, in town?  

Then again, with his (woodcutter’s) own meager sustenance, why should he let this good fortune pass him by?  Heaven had delivered this into his calloused hands, would it not be better to invite the hunter to his shack, drug and then deliver (deposit) him bound and gagged before the authorities?  Why should he, because of prudence (caution and fear), let this golden opportunity slip through his fingers? Yes, the trick may well work; he had just enough belladonna left, after the last use.

For a moment his heart was downcast, thinking how he’d worked so hard to bury his past, endured so much in this isolated corner… but still that brute had tracked him down then dared to threaten to expose him….  The Woodcutter had just then momentarily shifted focus onto the deep, ugly scar on his left hand; an involuntary shudder just then rippled through him, recollecting that last spontaneous act and the consequential perilous brush with death. He had got exactly what he deserved!  The Woodcutter inwardly hissed then shook his head to expunge all those unwelcome thoughts, forcing his attention to the present situation. In the end he nodded his head, having decided already on how to deal with this present dilemma, then with incredible agility of a wildcat, rushed at once, with open arms (with one arm still holding the axe however), showing he meant no harm, to stoically (with stoicism) block the hunter’s path.

With the fire in his eyes burning with steel determination and, his left hand still gripping the axe, the woodcutter stonily stared up at Nevetsecnuac for a time, his unruly mind, meanwhile, racing with new possibilities.  Just as quickly however, his focus snapped back to present reality and with unreadable expressions on his face then, his eyes betraying nothing, however, his voice carrying urgent, apologetic tone, he yowled (yelped) at the mounted youth: "Wait! Please wait!”

With uncanny agility and stubbornness, he next rushed forward to tug at the hunter’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) trouser leg.  "I…I do apologize.  Please forgive me, generous sir.  I lost my head there for a spell.  Times are hard, very hard, and one can't be too careful these days, you know.  You could have been a government agent, secret police, some spy, or simply an affiliate henchman. How could I, a poor old woodcutter with failing eyesight, decipher the truth anymore?  Everything is getting more secretive; more complex all the time.  Please don't hold my blunder against me.  I know now in my heart that I've done you grievous wrong and for that I'm truly, deeply ashamed.  Say that you forgive me."  He entreated (implored) Nevetsecnuac in seeming sincerity, giving him no chance to respond.

"I discern now that you're an honest chap." The woodcutter incessantly continued with his honeyed words. "So, let us put aside these obvious misunderstandings, all right?  I will graciously accept your most generous gift.  You must permit me, in return, to repay your kindness and, as well, atone for my mistakes.  Why don't you come with me for a hot meal?  My wife is a good cook and can prepare a dozen or so savory dishes in the blink of an eye.  The way you're heading, you won't see an inn or hostel for at least three, five days’ ride.  Please accept a hot meal and a night's lodging from this old man."

“Savory dishes; an odd choice of words for a crude (an unsophisticated) woodsman(woodcutter). I doubt he even has a wife.”  Nevetsecnuac, losing patience, but only inwardly, coolly rebuffed (snubbed); then outwardly shaking his head, in an even tone just stated that he could not unfortunately spare the time and with a definite no nonsense demeaner, spurred his horse forward.

The old man, forced aside, immediately dropped all pretenses and with his dark countenance, grinding his teeth, once more hurled curses and treats after Nevetsecnuac.

04- WOODSMAN

Checking his rising fury, Nevetsecnuac reminded himself that the woodsman (woodcutter) was only a victim of his circumstances, was acting out of fear and therefore not entirely responsible for his erratic behavior; nevertheless, with sadness gripping his heart, he half turned to take one last long look at the enraged woodsman, and with just a slight nod of his head he calmly  bid him farewell, then simply rode off into distance.

 He did not look back nor lend an ear to the mounting torrent of abuse and curses let loose (heaped after him) by the highly incensed, indignant woodsman.

                                                                         ~

Riding into the distance, Nevetsecnuac was for a time (spell) despondent (downhearted) and also bit concerned that the old man might report this incident to the authorities, until; he reminded himself that, the rest of his journey would be spent under the alias of Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Later, with twilight (dusk, sunset) fast approaching, at some distant spot, as he discarded the pelts (furs) and carcasses (meat) of game into a gravel ditch, he quietly admonished himself for his careless act of going out of his way to do a good turn and, for being too trusting.

“You must harden your heart if you are to succeed.” Zonar's cryptic warning suddenly came to mind.

 Nevetsecnuac nodded, thus resolved to follow that good counsel.

05- NEVETS ON HORSEBACK

With the load lightened and the road ahead flat and featureless, Nevetsecnuac, with one fluid motion, mounted the mare and taking up the reigns, spurred her into a full gallop. For several hours, they rode like the wind, with the mare's hooves barely touching the ground, covering great distances even though the darkness had encroached on the land.

Nevetsecnuac would have ceaselessly continued riding all night long till down, since the ominous clouds had  by now been quickly swept away with the relentless winds, allowing the starry sky with full moon, to perfectly illuminate the desolate (remote segment of state highway) thoroughfare; however, for his mount’s sake (mare not being Fiery Comet), they halted at a safe spot for a brief respite and for (intake of) sustenance.

                                                                            ~

 

(END OF SECTION 16)

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 12

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 12

01- KUNDRICK DUFO

Stark’s (Asger's) thoughts now flew to Kundrick, the frail boy who had always sat without stirring at the back of the room for the duration of each day's lesson.  From the beginning   Asger had taken a liking to this shy, well-behaved boy who had appeared so serious, so grown up.

Asger had frequently pressed on him small toys or rare sweets but each time, after a polite thank you, Kundrick had, with admirable reserve, held on to the item until after the classes had ended and he gained his father's permission to keep the trinket. 

When his father had been taken away in chains the little boy had stood stiffly by, hands clenched at his side, bravely resisting any tears.  Of course, he would remember such a remarkable little boy well.  But then the struggle against Zakhertan Yozdek changed everything.

So, this was what had become of Kundrick! Asger mused, seeing no reason to doubt this segment of Alec’s accounts and presently wondered if his esteemed tutor Sorgun Dufo had lived to see his son's great accomplishments.

"The time has long been ripe for an open confrontation on a major scale to topple this present evil regime, My Lord."  Alec had just then startled Asger from his brief reverie. "Now, when the general assault starts under the leadership of the rightful Prince, other scattered pockets of resistance will join in and swell the ranks of the main army.  With such numbers the insurgent force will become invincible.”

"For this to happen, however, the timely appearance of the prince is a requisite, and of course,” Alec pausing, grinned wryly, "this can only be accomplished with your Lordship's assistance.  You alone, Lord Shonne Gulbrand has told us, know the true Prince's whereabouts."  Alec burrowed his anxious stare into Stark (Asger) and waited with bated breath for his response.

As Asger (Stark) had listened, inwardly he had been burdened with serious quandary. Tempting as all Alec’s accounts were, caution would not allow Asger to take them at face value and lay his total trust in Alec.  Although Alec’s accounts were most elaborate, and precise and some of it had already been verified by his trustworthy contacts over the years; still a good portion of it was unconfirmed. Moreover, despite his claim, Alec and Duan have clearly not achieved this remarkable feat without the benefit of added support.  Somewhere waiting in the wings could be a militia poised to strike on cue.

The absence of any intel from Heaven’s Gate Temple, for an unusual length of time, meanwhile, had been another grave concern for Asger (Stark). Consequently, Asger could not tell with measure of certainty, had no way of knowing how much damaging info had already been (relayed) leaked.

There was only one recourse however, to uncovering this ploy, as dangerous as that may be; but then again, if he were to go along, he would be sending Svein to a certain perilous danger. Is Svein competent enough to overcome it?   If not now, when?  If only he (Asger) had not been burdened by the security and wellbeing of Teuquob and the twins; he would have gladly accompanied Svein on this escapade, till the truth unfolded.

In the end Asger (Stark) decided to proceed, albeit with caution, to the end of this most dangerous game.

Alec’s outward composure and sincerity lapsing (failing) temporarily, he with unease shifted his body; in truth, he was fast losing his patience. What more could he say or do to bring about the desired result? His head throbbed with all that exertion; he felt inexplicably fatigued, yet his stubborn nature would not allow him to yield to the temptation of sleep. Meanwhile, even though Asger had seemingly concurred with Alec's latest arguments concerning   the prince, his eagerly awaited disclosure of the whereabouts, maddeningly so, was not forthcoming.

 “You have claimed that the two of you had acted alone; but usurper’s spies are numerous, how can I be ascertained you were not shadowed, albeit unknowingly, to this region (and to this mountain)?” Asger eventually spoke up after his prolonged consideration, even though he knew what the answer would be.

“Duan was the very best in his profession; he would have flushed them out in no time. As it were, he left a bloody trail in his wake. But that aside,” Alec chewed his upper lip, as he considered, then quickly decided against mentioning   the murder of those two monks. But then he committed another grave error. “There was an incident, I failed to report, my Lord; it may or may not have any pertinence to your respective concern.”

 “Oh?” Asger waited to hear more.

“After our stay at the ‘Heaven’s Gate Temple’, we came under pernicious attack by unspecified group of assassins, Duan wiped them out of course, and I can say with measure of certainty, that there was no such incidence after that.” 

As Alec did not know why the falcons were felled, he’d decided not to touch on that subject.  “It might have been secret messages from Duan’s contacts. Who’s to know; now that the villain was dead?”

“I can assure you Duan, with his conceit, felt no need for any backup; he tolerated my presence only just, perhaps it amused him to have me tag along. Even so, I sensed that he planned to do away with me no sooner than he’d accomplished his task. Furthermore, I venture a guess, the subterranean tunnel in all these years has been an effective deterrent, has it not? So yes, I can say with measure of certainty, that there has not been any breach (violation) to your respective security.” 

Unaware of his grave blunder Alec again stressed.  “I would like nothing better than to spend couple days recovering my Lord, but my conscience would not permit me. Time has come for the swift, effective action, as we are finally in position to do so now.  I again wish to remind you, my Lord, of the urgency of our situation and the serious consequences should Zakhertan  Yozdek's men reach the Prince first!”

Asger (Stark), bearing a strange expression, turned his sharp eyes to Alec and dourly asked, "So, that is your most immediate desire is it, to learn of the prince’s whereabouts?"

"May I trouble you to do so, my Lord?” Alec replied anxiously with a nod and then cast a quick glance at Svein who had his head down and seemingly was lost in deep contemplation.

By his reluctance, he is confirming my suspicions to be true; but how could this be?  After all, was not this youth by his own admission at the tavern, a good four-year senior to the lost Prince?

 Upon a second reflection, a wry smile registered on his lips. Fool the truth has been staring at you in the face all along, only you were too blinded to see it.

Despite his arrogance, a failing of his, he had to concede, the ingested potions had dulled his senses somewhat. Unbidden, anger gripped his heart, and he further admonished himself, thinking he could have spared himself all this affront difficulty and debasing.

Alec again snuck appraising glances at Svein as if seeing him for the very first time. But then, I would have missed out on this golden opportunity of meeting Lord Asger.  He then consoled himself.

He knows yet insists on playing this farce to the end. Asger was suddenly overcome with fatigue.  He had his own Demons to conquer. Blasted medicines…I wish I had not taken them earlier; no anecdote would wipe away the adverse effects till morrow.

“It is rather late, how about we retire for the night, and tomorrow at first light we can continue where we’d left off.” Asger, for the time being putting aside his misgivings, outwardly proposed.

Svein absently nodded, as he was sorting things out in his head.

Alec bit his lip to constrain his outburst. Stubborn old fox what further proof can I furnish to win your trust; oh, have it your way, I do feel rather exhausted, and a brief respite will do me good.  

Alec, on the outset appearing most agreeable, bid his good night to the two and watched them close the barn door securely behind them.

He had every intention of, after a brief rest, doing some reconnaissance; but no sooner that he reclined (tilted back) his body in his makeshift bed on the floor, than against his will, he immediately fell into deep, deep slumber.

                                                               ~

 

(END OF SECTION 12)

 

THE RESCUE - SECTION 2

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE RESCUE - SECTION 2 

A small game was roasting over the fire when she suddenly came to.

Having regained consciousness and suddenly recollecting the panther, she bolted to a seating position with a start. Her terrified, baffled gaze however, was met with a mitigating, polite smile from a decisively handsome young man who proceeded to speak to her in a soothing, foreign tongue that she did not, could not truly comprehend. His dialect, the enunciations was even varied from that of Kaimu, his wife Ensa, neighbor Zianko or the son Yoansu’s. One thing was clear however the danger/the otherwise certain death from the beast was gone, and the intensions of her presumed rescuer, as far as she could tell with some measure of certainty, were both honorable and good. He conducted himself with proper decorum and seemed to be both knowledgeable and one of fine breeding. Anticipating her thirst, he had quickly provided her with water from a wooden cup, which she partook appreciatively.

 Hoping that he might be acquainted with her native language, presently she voiced her appreciation for the rescue and for his taking such diligent care of her. Then at a loss what else to say and just then noting his quiver full of arrows laid at the side, quickly asked how he happened to be on this God-forsaken Mountain: was he sporting a hunt?

But her articulated responses were sadly, quite mystifying (baffling) to the young man. In the end, the frustrating exertion made more difficult by the mutual attraction, all they had managed were the polite but succinct introductions: her choosing to announce Jiense as her name to this amicable stranger, and he in turn had mentioned the name Svein. The ensued awkward moment of silence nevertheless was cut short, when Svein noting that the meat was about ready, forwent the wearisome communication and going over, and using his long knife skillfully, sliced off some choice pieces from the main body of the skewered meat, placed them onto wooden slat that served as a plate and brought it over to her for her consumption.

“It’s probably not what you are used to, but please partake some.”   He insisted; suspecting they would have a better luck at the verbal exchange on fuller stomachs.

As Jiense was already famished she accepted it gratefully and without ceremony, soon after chewing, swallowing the delicious, succulent meat, not pausing even to ask, or bothering to guess at what manner of specious she was ingesting.

In the aftermath, warmed by the raging fire, and well fed, using a sign language, she had again thanked him profusely for rescuing her from the maw of the panther- this time more at ease, she utilized her innate skills and therefore more effectively transmitted her intent. Then fell silent wondering what had happened to the beast, worst still, what other prevalent dangers lay ahead?

Deciphering her concerns, by means of sign language and hand gestures he hastened to convey to her that he was both a competent and a willing protector and would most certainly deliver her to safety. His reassuring smile was reciprocated, by a grateful one from her. Then all at once both gone bashful, they had averted (lowered) their eyes. That night she had slept blissfully sound, content to be under his care- for even though she had known him for scant period (such a short while), listening to her intuitive heart, she had placed her implicit trust in him and thereon felt more hopeful for the future.

The subsequent day’s journey, hard as it was, it could be said that it was delightfully exhilarating and even adventurous. When she became tired, he offered, insisted on carrying her and that he did, with certain ease, covering great distances despite the steep ascent- all the while effectively shielding or periodically fending off the all-pervasive treats from predatory animals with astounding regularity in speed and skill in archery. Furthermore, at sundown, when they halted, in contrast to her, he showed no fatigue.

If she marveled at his resilient stamina, his competence, his handsome features or many other fantastically intrinsic (inherent) attributes, she kept them to herself noting (observing) his strange but true, humble nature and bashfulness.

Meanwhile, as he had been encumbered because of her needs of shelter and sustenance and his other charge, of hunting for game along the way- it had taken them an additional five- or six-day’s arduous journey, instead of two, to reach their goal.

Their subsequent path took them right through a precarious topography of high ridges, then a dense forest, each leg of the journey being more arduous than the rest. Then at one point, Svein carefully pushed aside the thick foliage that successfully hid an entrance to a deep cavern.

Before they proceeded to inside Svein halting and then withdrawing from his pouch two sun-dried shoots (buds), handed these to Jiense and signaled for to chew to extract their juice. The juice she can swallow, but the pulp, she was made-to-understand, she should spit it out. She did, as she was, told. The taste, a bit unpleasant, was both bittersweet and sour at the same time. Then, as she chewed, a strange sort of sensation came over her. Her head became dazed; she felt a total lack of inhibition, no fear, as though she was now invincible. Svein, seeing the transformation in her, smiled and politely ushered Jiense (Teuquob) into the cavern. Further in, to (manage) cope with the pitch darkness, Teuquob hung on tightly to the young man’s sleeve as latter led the way, navigating the turns and twists of the rocky, unstable, and dangerous terrain with sure footing. Periodically, there would be certain hair-raising echoes borne out of the deep that (despite the effectiveness of the drug) still put her soul in fright; though invisible to her, she still perceived the existence of chasms, noted the divergent sounds of water, some gushing streams, or trickling brooks far in distance or quite near. Then came the fluttering of wings, bats, and many other such phantom sounds along the way, which unleashed her wildest imagination and sent icy chills up her spine, all the while gripping her heart in an inexplicable fear. At such times, sensing her trepidation, he would abruptly stop and seek out her hand, then gently squeeze it with encouragement.

Since entering the cavern, he had not uttered a single word and when once she coughed supposedly to clear her throat from the perceived dust, rather, to get his attention, he’d quickly hushed her by placing his hand over her mouth, as if peril would arise from such action. Thinking that he needed his hearing to guide his advance- better that, than thinking there were carnivorous, nocturnal winged vertebrates or other such scary beast in readiness to pounce on them- she had remained silent from there on.

They had advanced blindly for what it seemed to Jiense (Teuquob) an eternity, with her imagination playing havoc all the while on the summation of all her fears. Halting briefly once or twice they had eaten dry rations which he had on him, and then continued in this dangerous realm. She was relieved when long at last they reached the end of this elongated subterranean tunnel, safest one amongst the perilous two, that (presumably) cut across underneath the majestic mountain peak, and finally exited the cavern. Thought it was typically the late afternoon of an overcast day, it still took a while for her eyes to adjust to the light that greeted them.

After a brief respite, they resumed their journey that led them to the crossing of a stream then another perilous ridge. Then they trudged upwards yet another steep climb, Teuquob in tow of the young man following an invisible goat’s path and whenever the path widened, she would opt to walking alongside him, all the while trying her best keep up. The perpetual increase in topographic elevation however, eventually caused Teuquob to more frequently labor for breath and to succumb to the inescapable fatigue that plagued her every fiber of her being. This impediment forced her resilient companion hence, to periodically make unscheduled stops or simply carry her- an added encumbrance on top of by then accumulated ponderous load- the bounty of game.

On the morning of the sixth day, they had another, endless, laborious ascent. Having traversed yet another ridge, they dove into denser part of the limitless forest and after cutting across a heavy curtain of thick foliage they quite suddenly emerged into a clearing.

Disbelieving her eyes, Teuquob rubbed them and looked on. The unbelievable scene that greeted Teuquob, which she now took in with a breathtaking zeal, encompassed a phantasmal picture that defied all-norm- a safe habitat existing in such remote wilderness?

True enough, there up ahead in that well-tended open space stood an encased structure that contained within its vicinity: a sturdily built wooden cabin with a thin coiling smoke emanating from the tall chimney at its rooftop; off to one side was a modest stable; then a structure of a storehouse could be seen, and yonder still, a smaller hut that clearly served as an outhouse.  A small patch of encircled ground adjacent to the hut was reserved for a thriving vegetable or an herbal garden.

At the dominating structure that boasted of a covered platform/ a small porch by the entrance, there could be seen a seated elderly gentleman with a well-groomed shoulder-length mahogany brown hair. He had a streak of white hair off his temples that gave him a dignified air; he sported a very becoming thin mustache and a neatly trimmed short beard that further complimented the handsome features of his face. His judicious, prudent manner and noble bearing commanded from any onlooker most profound awe and respect; furthermore, to Jiense’s (Teuquob’s) eyes, with his fine, stalwart physique, he resembled more a general, a commander in chief pondering on or contemplating some strategic warfare, than a mere recluse. Dressed in exquisite damask attire (garb), he appeared to be enjoying pensive smoke from a long carved ivory pipe, which he held in his left hand.

The very moment that Svein and his companion had come into view, the esteemed man’s eyes discreetly meeting Svein’s, it could be said that a glimmer of both delight and concern had registered in those stern pupils, but still he had not stirred from his seat.

The youth presently gave an encouraging look to Jiense (Teuquob) as if to say please advance with me, then quickened his pace to reach the steps of the small porch. As they made their advance, upon closer scrutiny she noted that the end of the long sleeve, of his immobile right arm, going through the overgarment’s side slit, was neatly tucked in under a silk belt at the waist.

Svein having quickly unburdened himself of the loads, he now squarely faced his elder, gave a respectful half-bow, and said in a fond, reverent tone, “Greetings, Uncle, I hope you have been well in my absence.”

The elderly gentlemen’s lips dawned a shadow of wry grin- a slight curving of the ends; he thoughtfully took another puff from his pipe then rose from his seat and facing the youth, in a clear intonation reciprocated latter’s affection with a nod of his head, “Greetings, Nephew. Thank you for your regard. The length of your absence had given me a pause for concern, till that is; my ears tracked (detected) you and your willing accompaniment’s slow advance.”     The manner of his voice tad stern and reproachful, his eyes had surreptitiously now trailed onto her.

“Forgive me, uncle”, the youth hastened to explain, “for my negligence in failing to show proper respect.” In reference to the girl beside him, he then quickly added. “I would have made the proper introductions right away; however, as I’m encumbered by the inability of properly communicating with her in her strange dialect, I’d hesitated.”

“I see,” the uncle looked away. “Though I am sure you had a particularly good reason for bringing her along. Later perhaps you may elaborate on the details of how you came by her?”  With a thoughtful air he then placed his long pipe on the small table and descended the few steps. Coming forward to proximity, he succinctly, but astutely studied the extraordinary girl draped in fineries that were inappropriate for surviving in the woods. Yet his polite, brief perusal, (observation) had revealed, that other than few cuts and minor bruises on her face and hands, there were no other wear and tear on either the fabric that looked to be damask silk or her footwear. The total absence of normal dirt or the least amount of dust on her garments further intrigued him.

Discerning his uncle’s thoughts, the young man nodded. “I have been baffled by that too uncle; clearly her attire bespeaks of supernatural element. Yet she is, and all during, behaved every bit a mortal being.”

“Does this mortal-being have a name?” The uncle then asked in a voice devoid of any emotion.

“Begging your pardon uncle, but as far as I can tell, she is called Jiense. Yet her spoken dialect had born little, if any semblance to the mainstream or any other Indigenous groups in Wenjenkun. At the beginning of our meeting, we have strived, but in vain, at any sort of linguistic communication…” The uncle’s raised hand had at once silenced the youth (cut short the babbling/inconsequential chatter).

” Hmm…And there is quite a variety of indigenous groups within and bordering states of Wenjenkun; hence, this mystery may not be resolved in the briefest time”. The uncle looking away had mused.

 “I presume you’ve hence communicated by way of sign language?”

The youth nodded in the affirmative.

Hearing her adopted name meanwhile, Jiense (Teuquob) had smiled and raising her head and meeting the old man’s keen eyes now, nodded to him in greeting timidly, then respectfully pronounced her name, Jiense. She had gone along with that name, as she felt in this strange continent it would not bestir suspicion that her true name would.

He reciprocated in kind, by announcing his name to her in a congenial, clear mode. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance Jiense with no last name. As we are extant (living, existent) in this wilderness, I shall dispense with my proper last name Therran and in kind, you may refer to me as simply, Stark.” He had pointed to his chest and enunciated the name again: “Stark.”

Understanding, she had uttered his name with due reverence and bowed again in proper greeting.

He in turn nodded then smiled, acknowledging her polite attempt.

“She is clearly one of fine breeding, which makes it more a conundrum.”

“She will be allowed to stay with us for a while, won’t she Uncle, if not indefinitely?” Svein in his impatience could not stay his tongue.

“You are getting on ahead of yourself as usual,” Stark frowned. “We shall see, meanwhile it would be prudent of us to proceed with caution while taking the necessary progression,” then as if still pondering on the unusual circumstance, he added quietly to himself, “yes best to proceed one step at a time...A seemingly delicate, solitary being of high caliber surviving in the wilderness, hmm!”

 “Deducing from your omitted facts, I assume that you’d not encountered any other being, a guardian, a guide, serving companions or such, dead or alive, within that vicinity!” He paused again to thoughtfully stroke his beard. “Nevertheless, it’s quite rude of us to speak of her, however improbable the ready communication, as though she is not here.” Snapping out of it, he gave a polite nod and simply smiled at her then turned to address Svein. “For the time being at least, please take her to your prior room and allow her to wash up and attain some rest.” 

Noting the emphasis on the word “prior,” Svein smiled and readily acquiesced; for it was only proper that from hence he would be sharing his uncle’s room.      

Turning to squarely face Jiense, Svein signaled for her to follow him; the two then took their leave of the uncle and with Jiense in tow, quickly climbed the steps, disappearing inside the cabin. Opening the far door to the right, Svein ushered the young lady in to a small room that contained sparse, nevertheless elegantly crafted fine-wood furnishings, strategically placed few art objects of rare, intrinsic beauty and ornate, clearly unused bedpan with a lid jutting underneath the only night table.

Her glance (perusing) trailing onto the bed with exquisitely embroidered, immaculately clean silk comforter, had inadvertently lingered. This is a quaint, eccentric luxury to find in a rustic cabin in the woods. She mused. They were not what they seemed.

A polite caught (a clearing of a throat) just then from her companion drew her attention to Svein.

The young man smiling bashfully with a hand gesture indicated to her instead the porcelain wash basin and jar filled with water that was on an antique chest, hanging nearby was the pristine white towel.

Without the use of language, he as much told her to make herself comfortable, but first she may wish to refresh herself by washing her hands and face. This room will be hers from here on; to rest a while and if anything was not to her liking, she was at liberty to amend or discard it.

Svein subsequently going over to the far side, he hastily fetched the small exquisitely carved mahogany and leather hand baggage that had contained his personal spare belongings and private garments. Opening it, he picked up the few others that were neatly folded in a drawer of a dresser to add to it (bureau), collected few hanging by the makeshift cupboard and, after politely nodding his head, quickly withdrew from the room, allowing her the privacy to adjust to her new surroundings.

Svein returned shortly after however, with a tray of tidbits, in case she required nourishment. Supper, owing to the work ahead, could be long time in coming.

Jiense (Teuquob) smiled at Svein fondly- inwardly she was frustrated by her inability to communicate the extent of her gratitude and yet same time, remained absolutely touched by the gentle concern he showed for her welfare.

                                                                                             ~

Svein had no trouble settling in his uncle’s room; once everything was neatly placed, he went outside and begun helping his uncle, who’d already, had a change of clothing, to safely preserve and store the abundant game (the meat) in the smoke house for their future use. They in silence worked quickly and methodically, first by skinning, then gutting and collecting in a special clay pot the entire contents of the innards of each game.

After a brief “Ceremony of Fire,” where invocations/certain prayers were said and the contents turned to ashes were buried deep in the ground, they then carefully washed the reminder carcasses, salted each and hung them over a smoldering fire, smoke, in the shed to dry. Ceremony of Fire was an integral part of the preparation, for their deep rooted ideology (creed, dogma) held the tenet (principle) that an animal’s existence came from the viscera (guts) and in this way, the hunted animal that had given his life for their survival, would be reborn again soon after. Thereof the life-force in the mountain would not be interrupted and the souls of the animals would always be returned to its steward, Rognar, the Mountain God. Rognar appeased, he would hence not hinder the future hunts or visit the hunter with some calamity.

At the conclusion of the requisite work, both Svein and Stark returned to the cabin, fetched fresh set of clothing, and walking alongside again in silence, for Stark did not encourage (even detested) idle chatter, quickly trailed a well-traveled goat’s path to wash up at the cascading icy stream. This mode of cleansing/hygiene had always been quite adequate for the two, but with the furtherance of each step, both  had privately on the side now pondered on the concerns and certain  impending future requirements or requisite adjustments her mere presence would entail- regrettably impinging on many of their otherwise well regimented routines.

Svein was not least bit perturbed by this; he welcomed the portended changes. Same could not be said about Stark however, even though he had thus far kept his views to himself, in truth he had been disquieted by this untoward added burden of a guest that could further complicate matters that were already precarious enough. By rights, his own life should have been long ago forfeited, having already joined with his honorable ancestors in the nether region. The sole purpose, chief reason for the opprobrious prolongation of his existence had been to honor an oath and to fulfill a pledge: to  shield and to prepare Svein for that impending future event, by undertaking the daunting task of overseeing (supervising) Svein’s welfare and education in both fields- literary, political and military. Her presence could be a serious impingement to this objective or (perhaps) a boon to that of which was yet to be determined. Regardless, seeing the definite hand of fate in this, he would albeit reluctantly, accepted this added, surplus encumbrance or, a challenge.

That afternoon, as Svein was left to overseeing to some other pressing matters, Stark, first topped the iron kettle with added fresh water, and placed it on the burner alongside the pot containing meat and vegetables, for it to boil. They would have the ceremonial tea after the gratification of sustenance.

Deeming the time appropriate, Stark fetched the small medicine box, and going over, he gently tapped on her door before entering.

(END OF SECTION 2)

 

                                                                                          ~