THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 6

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 6

Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and Fradel Rurik Korvald (riding on horseback) were still some distance away from any settlement or an Inn when dusk fell.  As if to multiply Fradel's misery, suddenly strong winds ushered a flotilla of dark, ominous clouds, which threatened to let loose a downpour at any time.

 Just then they sighted a thatched hut in the distance, and, in silent agreement, they both steered their horses towards it.  Obvious signs told them that the place had long been abandoned. Two lonely graves outside and a stench rising from the well attested to the tragic story of its residents.

Nevetsecnuac pushed the door open with an eerie creak and, lighting a torch quickly surveyed the dilapidated state of the interior.  The lit torch at once caused the infestation of rodents, lizards and insects to scurry away.

Nevetsecnuac brushed away the cobwebs then pushed the broken furniture and debris to one side to clear out a corner.  Inviting Fradel to rest there, he went back outside to secure the horses and meet their requirements for food and water.  When he returned Nevetsecnuac found that Fradel had made good use of this time to clear out the stove and start a small fire using kindling and charcoal chips that littered the floor.

So, he's not as helpless without servants as he claimed. Nevetsecnuac mused.  Good!

That night, sheltered from the wind and rain, for the roof leaked in only one or two places, they shared dry rations boiled over the fire to make a stew.  Fradel, more accustomed to wine and savory dishes, consumed a good share of this food without complaint, washing it down with water.  To Nevetsecnuac’s relief, the pampered scholar had proved adaptable and, more to the point, resilient.

After they retired Fradel found it impossible to sleep.  The excitement of that day, the eerie atmosphere of the room, the pelting rain on the roof, his hard makeshift (improvised) bedding and the coarse food had all conspired to keep him awake.  As the night progressed his distress became even more acute.

Now every shadow, every sound stretched his nerves taut.  Several ugly visages leered menacingly at him from the dark corners of the room but when he sat up and stubbornly fixed them with his stare they reverted back to ordinary objects.  Again, he shot occasional glances in Svein's direction and seeing him in deep slumber, suppressed an urge to grunt a would-be protest, “For Heaven’s sake, how can you sleep so soundly?”

Exhausted, Fradel reclined once more, then becoming aware of someone else's presence, he jumped up. This time, however, the apparition (ghost, phantom) was outside of the window.  As the window had no covering, he walked towards it and at the same time strained his eyes to see through the dark, the just then manifest, vacillating (fluctuating) iridescent specter.   The form drawn to closer proximity, become clearer, and he could now make out the tragic countenance of an elderly woman, which presently stretched out her arms in supplication and sobbed: “Save me, sir!  Save me!” 

Fradel was about to respond when, suddenly, out of the pitch darkness, three fearsome black wolves materializing (emerging), leapt upon her and sank their long fangs into her flesh; with such a voracious appetite, their prey (target) was instantaneously gone. Subsequently, crunching the last remanence of bones and lapping up the victim's blood, the trio of wolves licked their fur clean, thence, all three menacingly directed their attention on Fradel. They pivoted their blazing eyes on Fradel and began advancing towards him with deliberate slowness, with their tongues lolling, drooling at the mouth, as they panted.

Fradel, recoiling in terror, could not move a muscle, especially since one of the black wolves suddenly appeared inside and right beside him.

Fradel, resigned to his fate, held his breath and closed his eyes, expecting to be mauled, disemboweled and eaten to the last morsel by the rapacious wolves; unexpectedly however, the beasts simply vanished, when Sven just then stirred and, without turning to face him, asked: "What is it?”

"Nothing, nothing at all; it was just a bad dream (nightmare).  I'm sorry to have awakened you."

 Of course, Fradel's disclaimer was belied by the beads of perspiration on his forehead.  He tasted their salt as they dripped onto his lips; currently back on his hard bedding, he sullenly reclined and turned his back to Svein, as if to sleep.

 My strained nerves are playing tricks on me. Fradel consoled himself.  I'd best try to get some sleep.  With determination he closed his eyes tight but, just as he was about to drift off into the dream world, a rustling sound piqued his curiosity, and he once more lifted his eyelids to investigate.

This time his eyes beheld, in the center of the room, an enchanting, most beautiful fairy maiden’s apparition. Furthermore, smiling most alluringly at Fradel, she beckoned to him.  As he sat upright to acknowledge her, she suddenly turned into Cobarkek who, gritting his teeth, glowered at Fradel.

The scholar was seized with an inexplicable terror, recalling the bandit chief's last words to him, “I will deal with you later.”

He was about to call out to Svein when Cobarkek's head detached itself from his body, floated upwards and began to spin.  When it stopped, just in front of Fradel, the mouth opened wide and a reptilian, double-pointed tongue lashed out and coiled itself tightly around Fradel's neck, choking him.  Fradel struggled in vain to free himself, gasping for breath.

Again, Svein stirred, and Cobarkek's head simply vanished.

 Fradel found the culprit to be nothing more than the loosened strips of his head bandage that had fallen down around his neck.  Just as he was about to laugh at his own folly, Cobarkek's ghost reappeared.  Once more the scholar recoiled in terror as he watched the phantom metamorphosis into a frightful demon with grizzled red hair, blue face, glittering eyes, a saw-toothed razor-sharp grin and a blood red flickering tongue.  With green slime oozing from its four nostrils and its six arms flailing it advanced towards Fradel.  Paralyzed from the neck down, Fradel opened his mouth to cry for help, but no sound was issued forth.

As the scholar was struggling to scream, Svein suddenly sprang to his feet and hacked the demon into two halves with one blow.  Both halves toppled to the floor, motionless, giving off a dense bluish vapor that settled into a putrid mass which oozed under the floorboards.

Svein turned to smile reassuringly at Fradel, "It's all over now, go back to sleep."  Then, quite unruffled, he lay down once more, facing the wall, to fall asleep.

Fradel leaned over to ask, in amazement, "Aren't you afraid?"

"I used to be", Svein confessed.  "When I was younger, but now I know there is nothing to be afraid of."  He shrugged his shoulders under his blanket.

 "This is to be expected.  All abandoned places have their share of ghosts and demons, but they can only harm us if we let them."

Fradel nodded and also reclined in order to sleep once more.  He was very comforted by Svein's presence and, gradually, his heartbeat returned to normal.  Drawing closer, he whispered his thanks to Svein but the other just let out a disquieting laugh and, when Svein turned around to face Fradel, he wore Cobarkek's face.

With a start Fradel awoke and sat up, a crazy gleam playing in his eyes.  When he steadied his heart once more, he realized that all of it had been a dream.  But was it really?  He had an eerie feeling about it all.

At the far corner a huge rat was gnawing at an empty flour bag as it flashed its red eyes at him.  Standing up, Fradel strolled to the window and peered outside.  It was just before dawn and he saw Svein harnessing the horses, anxious to be on the road again.

Before they left, on Fradel's insistence, they dug a new grave and fished the corpse out of the well.  Despite the decayed condition of the body, Fradel at once recognized the old lady in his dream.  Giving her a proper burial next to the other two mounds, they allowed the poor woman to find lasting peace in the afterlife with her husband and daughter.

Svein then mounted his horse and urged Fradel Rurik Korvald to follow suit.

 Looking back on the three small mounds, another painful memory intruded into Fradel's thoughts.  In a deep silence he hung his head; his face was long and drawn as he reflected over this past, tragic episode.  Absentmindedly he pivoted his mount around and let it follow Fiery Comet onto the open road. 

(END OF SECTION 6)

 

STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 3

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 3

Cold shivers gripped Lu’s heart, and his face contorted with sadness as he recalled the horrific details of so long ago.  In his anguish, he bit his lip so hard that blood trickled down his chin and onto his bare chest. He, oblivious to the trail of blood, spoke of the tragic demise of his wife who had been tortured at length and then made to witness as her only son’s life was snuffed (extinguished), all, in order to extract information from her, concerning Lu's whereabouts.

 "But how could she tell them anything? I had left under cover of night without a word to anyone. The mission demanded absolute secrecy. And for that, she was … (Lu’s tongue froze, for he could not bring himself to say it,) until... ah, such inconceivable cruelty! To think men is capable of, could conceive such extreme torment (abuse)!"  Lu lamented, shedding more tears, "If only I had the foresight, I would rather have ended their lives swiftly myself and spared them such agony."

Realizing the fetters of providence that linked him with Lu, Nevetsecnuac dropped to his knees and bowed respectfully to the beggar before him.

"What's come over you, son?” Lu rushing over pulled him to his feet.

"You were one of the elite guards dispatched by Lord Shonne Gulbrand to deliver Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon to safety, were you not?"

"Yes, but how can you know that?” Lu cried in astonishment. "Clearly you are not what you seem…. Who are you really, sir?"

Svein’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) reply was cut short by a violent gust of wind that sprang up instantly within the room, rattling the windows. The flames of the fire grew dim and then rekindled, spewing forth a dense smoke that rolled across the room like a fog to obscure their vision. Nevetsecnuac rubbed his eyes to clear his sight, then, looking up, saw a man's form standing by the scroll. Nevetsecnuac, springing to his feet, called out, "Who's there? Who are you, sir?"

The apparition made no reply.

Fearing a spy, Lu had also sprung to his feet and, muscles tensed, craned his neck to squint in the direction Svein was speaking.  He saw nothing.  "What is it?” he half turned and shouted at Svein in alarm.

"Can't you see him?” Nevetsecnuac pointed, barely able to make out the figure himself now that it had retreated into the shadows.

"See what?” Lu snapped at Svein, still unable to see anything out of the ordinary.  "Your eyes must be playing tricks on you."

Puzzled, Nevetsecnuac took a bold step toward the mute ghost, but the phantasm instantly vanished into thin air.  When Nevetsecnuac halted or took a step back the figure re-emerged. Accordingly, the apparition moved back and forth, dimmed, and then appeared evasively by the fire.

"Sir, we humbly ask that you identify yourself.  Please make your wishes known to us.” Nevetsecnuac respectfully bowed to the seemingly irresolute ghost while his eyes tracked the wavering image.

Tugging at Svein's sleeve, Lu urged, "Hurry, describe him to me!  What does he look like?"

"He's tall, thin, fair of hair and dressed in a light blue robe.  Wait a minute, there's an embroidered crest on his garment. It looks like," again Nevetsecnuac’s head moved to follow the roaming spirit, "yes, like a golden sword over a coiled black serpent."

"Heavens be merciful!” Lu's face turned ashen, and tears pricked his eyes.  Frantically dropping to his knees in the direction of the apparition, in supplication he touched his forehead to the floor repeatedly and implored Lord Shonne Gulbrand to show his countenance to him also.

In accordance, Nevetsecnuac prostrated himself also before the Lord's image, expressing eternal gratitude to him.  After repeating his vow of vengeance upon Zakhertan Yozdek, tears streaming down his face, he then requested for the reason for the Lord's manifestation, promising to fulfill any of Lord Shonne Gulbrand's wishes to the best of his ability.

It was after Lu intoned the same request and bowed his head respectfully that the Lord's image became visible to him as well.

The apparition, now more defined, floated towards Nevetsecnuac, riding atop the fluorescent clouds.  His distinguished, noble presence awed Nevetsecnuac but, before he could bow once more, the specter of Shonne Gulbrand gave a respectful bow to the prince instead.  The ghost's expression, though tired and grim, was affectionate and he gave an approving nod to Nevetsecnuac as a fleeting smile grazed his lips.

 When Nevetsecnuac looked up questioningly to the Lord, he saw a single tear trickle from the apparition's eye to land wetly on Nevetsecnuac’s forehead.  Though no words were exchanged, the prince understood just then the reason for the Lord's visitation and touched his head to the floor in obeisance.  When he looked up again the figure had disappeared; Nevetsecnuac’ eyes drawn to Lu, beheld the other’s baffled and questioning gaze.

In all these years, Lu had pondered; my Lord has never graced these premises.  What would prompt this visit now?  Who is this youth before me that he merits such honor and respect from such a High Lord?  Unless...  Just then Lu's eyes widened, his face flushed a deep crimson and his jaw fell-open as he stared at Svein.  Could this be?  Is this youth the baby prince left in Lord Asger Zhon's care?

 "You!” Lu cried out with an alarm and pointed at Svein. “You!” another cry escaped his Lips, before his throat constricted and drowned any hope of further utterance.

Nevetsecnuac rushed to stop the trembling Lu from dropping to his knees and, overriding the old soldier's protests, picked him up and placed him in the chair by the bed.  The prince then prostrating, expressed his gratitude for the great sacrifices and the hardships Lu had had to endure, all for his sake.

The series of exciting events, all in the span of but a few hours, had proven too much for Lu.  Once he had been a mighty warrior, blessed with great prowess, but old age, and the ravages and angst of the past two decades had taken their toll.  This sudden shock made his head throb, then his eyes began to swim, and shortly after he lost all focus.  All his energy drained rapidly from his body, and he swooned.

 Nevetsecnuac reacted swiftly and, reaching forward, stopped Lu from sliding off of the chair. He then picked Lu up and gently placed him on the bed.

 

Assured by his still strong pulse that the old soldier was still among the living, Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully covered him with the quilt and then, picking up a cracked cup from the desk, went outside to collect some rainwater.  Returning when it was full, he wiped Lu's forehead and face with a wet rag.  Gradually the color returned to Lu's ashen, sallow cheeks and he stirred.

"What happened?” his eyes partly opening, he groaned.  Then, when his memory became more acute, he strove to rise but Nevetsecnuac’s hand restrained him.

On Nevetsecnuac's insistence, he was forced to take things in stride and, with some assistance, drained the cool rainwater from the cup.  Sometime later when he was more able, he sat up and the two spent until the small hours of the morning exchanging heartfelt sorrows, greetings, gratitude, and stories.

 It was then that Nevetsecnuac first heard of the atrocities committed in the past by Zakhertan  Yozdek before and after his usurpation of power and the existence of a (few seconds’) younger,  twin to Lord Shonne Gulbrand.

"Identical in appearance though they may have been,” Lu said, "they could not have been more different in character.  As goodness and virtue were the qualities of Lord Shonne, the opposite could quite easily have been said of his twin, born fifteen minutes later, Khronolf, who led a totally vile, debauched Life.

 Coveting the inherited title of the firstborn, Khronolf harbored great jealousy and resentment for Shonne and secretly plotted to have him murdered.  Being a weak-willed character though, he delayed carrying out his designs.

The flaws in his character grew progressively worse with each passing birthday and the worse he became the more he was shunned by his parents, relatives, peers, and any worthwhile gentlefolk.  Frustration stemming from these thwarted desires drove Khronolf ever closer to despair until he was literally consumed by his madness.  By then his cruelty knew no bounds and many unfortunates suffered at his hand.  When he finally amassed enough courage to make, albeit a bungled attempt, on Shonne's life, the plot was easily exposed and, in exasperation, he turned his sword on his hapless wife, then himself.

"His only surviving offspring, Dwenng Gulbrand, was away at the time but his heart too, after years of coaching by his father, was poisoned against Lord Shonne.  Nevertheless, after this family tragedy, Lord Shonne Gulbrand adopted the boy and raised him as his own.

Dwenng Gulbrand was provided with proper tutelage and every means of luxury, he lacked for nothing.  The ungrateful wretch concealed his true nature and hid his ill feelings towards his uncle, biding his time until he had acquired the necessary skills to murder his uncle and usurp his title.”

"Underneath the pretext of an amiable good nature, Dwenng was as vicious and cunning as any fanged viper.  Trusted by his uncle, he had accumulated, in due time, the most damaging information about the Lord."

At this point, Nevetsecnuac's thoughts strayed to Hacket Erling, who had adopted similar tactics to gain the trust of Asger and himself and whose fabrications had a strange blend of truth woven through it after all.

"Despite his pure, perfect, placid crust, Dwenng had failed to control what seemed to be a seemingly harmless vice, his lechery.”  Lu's voice was steeped in disgust.  "Always on the prowl, he delighted in corrupting then injuring chaste women by a range of devious or forceful means.  Unfortunately, these vile acts went undetected by Lord Shonne Gulbrand, who was increasingly burdened by state affairs.”

 “Zakhertan Yozdek had by then usurped the throne and, with the aid of his vast armies, had swiftly and effectively consolidated his power throughout the Empire.  Unable to reverse this sweeping tide, Lord Shonne had led an underground campaign against the usurper.  His struggle was still in its infancy when he successfully effected the escape of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and the infant Prince Nevetsecnuac, which is you, Your Grace.” Lu took another sip or two from the cup to quench his thirst, before continuing.

“Now where was I? Oh, yes. With such weighty concerns on his mind, is it any wonder that Dwenng's misdeeds escaped his attention?  Meanwhile, Dwenng's mortified victims fearing reprisals from the wretch dared not bring forth any charges before the Lord or his courts. But Dwenng's numerous conquests, over time, had fed his arrogance and he eventually grew careless.  On Spirit’s Day, not unlike this one, Dwenng happened to cast his cursed eyes on the beautiful wife, Alva, of Assistant Magistrate Birger at the Ayen Temple.  Lusting after her, the charlatan wielded the power of his position to arrange a secret admission to her home in broad daylight when Birger was away.  Of course, his intent was to molest Alva.” Lu swallowed hard and shook his head, still very much incensed.

“Surprising the good woman in her bed chamber he tried to force his attentions on Alva, daring even to threaten her when she rejected his forceful advances.  If she screamed, she would be found in a most compromising position, and he would not hesitate to ruin her reputation and tarnish her husband's good name by claiming she was once his long-standing mistress.  Dwenng would claim that her heart had only recently turned cold towards him and so she attempted to rid herself of her pesky lover by playing the part of the virtuous wife who had been terribly wronged.  As a threatening gesture, a bluff, Dwenng opened his mouth to call out to the servants and make public this fabricated declaration.” “The poor woman must have been frantic, according to hearsay; she fell to her knees, pleading with him to show mercy.  Yes, Alva pleaded with him, but it was in vain, because the wretch could not be deterred.  Most of this is part of the court records."  Lu explained, with fire in his eyes and still Livid, his teeth gnashed together in contempt.

"The villain still tried to force himself on her and, seeing no way out of it, and seeking a way to spare her husband from this great humiliation, Alva pretended to accede to his wishes, if only they could meet elsewhere in secret where they would not be found out.  The cur, with some reluctance, agreed to be patient until they could spend an entire, intimate evening together the following fortnight.  He left her side, grinning, and spent the rest of the night drinking and carousing with his cronies.

"That night Alva waited until Birger had fallen asleep, quietly kissed him, and then slipped out from under the covers.  Going to the library Alva wrote to her beloved husband a tragic farewell letter that explained the circumstances and implored him not to take any action against Dwenng.  She begged him to forget her and remarry as soon as possible to one whose beauty would never cause him such trouble.  They found the letter dotted with the stains of her tears, on the desk in the morning, her cold corpse hanging above it by a silken cord.

"Yes, in her prime Alva was cheated out of a happy life.  She was but nineteen and had died because of a lecher!  Oh, delicate flower crushed by that...” Lu bit his lip and turned his head away to hide his pained expression.  Despite his attempts of restraint however, his heart so pained him that, he loosened his clenched fist to now massage his chest.

Observing the play of emotions, Nevetsecnuac questioned Lu, "Was Alva a close relation to you?  Certainly, you knew her well."

Lu's fleeting smile only deepened the furrows on his forehead revealing his inner struggle.  After some brooding, he nodded, resolved to admit the truth.  With his voice quivering he said, "Yes, I knew her well.  She was our neighbor's daughter.  Oh, how beautiful she was, so frail yet blessed with such a luminous character."  He spoke as if in reverie, "They lived only a few houses down from us.  As children we used to play together and got along quite well. As an adolescent (teenager), she was particularly fond of horses and loved riding.  Alas, later I left for the Capital to enter the Royal Military Academy and, when my postings after graduation took me away on campaigns, we lost touch with each other. “

 “I have never forgotten her though,” Lu looked ill at ease.  Regret and pain contorted his face.  As a man of high morals, he found it hard to admit, to bare his soul to another, that he’d once secretly and deeply been in love with her, an enduring love that to date still gripped his heart.  Shame, remorse, despair, love and loneliness entangled him anew and he coughed repeatedly as if to break free of this constraint.

After a spell of brooding, he resumed his narrative, "After my military service, when I returned home to the service of Lord Gulbrand, my parents brought up the subject of my marriage.  With a joyful heart, I expressed my desire to wed Alva, only to have my hopes dashed when I was informed of her engagement to another.  It was too late.  I cursed my stupidity, my negligence and my oversight and quietly accepted the choice my parents had made for me.”

"Strange", Lu mumbled to himself," even after all this time, the memory of her loss is so painful, with the tightness gripping my chest, I can barely breathe, much less ruminate (dwell on) …."

 Then, smiling sheepishly, he turned to Nevetsecnuac and added in a stammer, "But, of course, I had loved her from afar, and later, when I wed, I learned to love my dear wife and the pain in my young heart became but a distant memory."  As if to extricate himself, Lu rattled on about how his wife had been virtuous and loving, and how much joy their lovely boy she bore him had brought to his life as he watched him grow till age four.  But Lu's forceful repudiations only helped reinforce the unrequited love he still bore deep in his heart for Birger's wife Alva, now a ghost.

A ghost, Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried. Could she be the visiting apparition earlier on?

 

(END OF SECTION 3)

 

The Ghost Who Was Thwarted

The Ghost Who Was Thwarted

(Revised by BoSt)

Once upon a time there lived a particularly bright young man who had successfully passed the State military examination, and had been ordered to go, by a specific date, to report for duty in another Province.

As it was the rainy season, he was dressed appropriately with his belongings wrapped in waterproof skins and loaded on horseback. Following the main highways, he rode and whenever possible, galloped with eagerness to reach his destination on time.

On this day the weather had not been particularly cooperative. Gusting winds and sudden downpours hindered his progress all along the way. Dusk was fast approaching and he was nowhere near a town or an inn where he could pass the night in relative comfort.

The buildup of ominous clouds above persuaded him to veer off onto a side road leading to a small village nestled in the woods. He needed to seek immediate accommodations before darkness blanketed the earth. He spotted a peasant, returning from fields at the end of the day’s work loaded with fresh fodder for the animals and inquired as to a possible night’s lodging.

The peasant shook his head, “It’s not that we are inhospitable, but there are only impoverished families in this village. You are certain not to find any room in any of the huts.” Then in conciliatory mood he directed the Soldier to an old dilapidated Temple still standing just outside of the village. At least there he could spend the night somewhat sheltered from the harsh elements.

The Soldier thanked the peasant and rode away. He eventually came upon the badly neglected structure, half buried in vines, runners and rampant vegetation. With some difficulty he pushed open the creaking door and stepped in. At once his lungs were assailed by a musky smell and dust lay inches high everywhere. Thick cobwebs hid most of the surfaces. In the niches he saw barely visible statues of gods so decayed through years of neglect that he could not distinguish one from the other.

The suffocating air forced the Soldier to go outside. He gasped and gasped then looked about him when he could breathe bit more easily. As night cloaked the premises he fetched a candle from his bundle and lit it. Going around the main temple structure he came upon a portion of the second story that was precariously attached, barely hanging on to the main structure. Following the trellises off to the side he found a protected alcove under an old flight of stone steps that ended abruptly, going nowhere.

“This will do for the night.” He grumbled under his breath then, fetching his knapsack, spread it out under the stone steps. He tied his horse to an old tree and placed some fodder before him. Next he took his flask from the saddle and wet his dry throat. He leaned back and began washing down some dry rations to satiate his sudden grumbling tummy. The rains came and went until the dark sky cleared of the ominous clouds which were replaced with scattered puffs that parted periodically to let the waning new moon peep through.

The Soldier, rather exhausted from travel, had just closed his eyes in sleep when a rustling sound in the temple startled him awake. What’s more, a sudden icy breeze swept over his face making him shudder involuntarily.

The moonlight just then revealed a chalk-faced woman dressed in a dirty old style red gown coming out of the temple. She stole past quietly as though she were afraid of being seen.

The Soldier quickly swallowed his fear. Lying perfectly still he pretended to be asleep and covertly watched her with half-closed eyes. Curiously, the woman drew a rope from her sleeve and looked at it for a time before instantly vanishing into thin air. This confirmed she was an apparition, most likely a ghost of one who had hung herself. He got up quietly and traced her steps.

Sure enough, she went into the village and when she came to a certain house she slipped into the courtyard through a crack in the door. As he was keen to find out her reason for haunting this premise, the Soldier abandoned propriety and leapt over the wall after her. Standing before him was a modest three roomed house. Crossing the rather empty courtyard, he reached the rear room where a lamp was burning dimly. The Soldier looked through the window into the room, and there he spotted a young woman of about twenty sitting on the bed, sighing deeply. Her kerchief however was soaked through with tears. Beside her in a crib lay a little child fast asleep.

The woman repeatedly looked up toward the beam of the ceiling. She appeared in great dismay, one moment she would weep and the next she would gently, lovingly, stroke the child. The Soldier, following her gaze positioned himself so as to see more clearly the object of her attention. His eyes avidly searched the high ceiling and finally he spotted the dark apparition sitting up on the beam. Momentarily she glowed. He could see clearly now as she, with an eerie smile, passed the rope around her neck and then, eyes bulging, tongue sticking out, she mimicked being hanged. Egging on the poor woman on, the ghost hissed with hostility one moment then in the next beckoned alluringly with a hand gesture.

Each time the young woman looked up as though drawn by an irresistible command, remained focused as if mesmerized, then snapped out of her reverie only when the child wiggled or gurgled. This went on for some time.

Unexpectedly the young woman in a resolute voice addressed the Ghost: "You say it would be best for me to die. Very well, then, I will die; but oh, I cannot bear to part with my baby!" Once more cupping her face, she burst into heart-wrenching tears, but the heartless ghost merely scoffed and threatened her. In an undecipherable communication the apparition next reached out softly in order to coax her.

When the exhausted young woman finally yielded to all that pressure and in resignation declared: "Enough, do not torture me any more… I’ll do as you wish, I will die. Just leave my baby in peace."

The Soldier for a time was lost for what to do. He could make noise or force his way in to stop or at least impede the evil apparition’s aim. The very real consequence of being chastised or charged as trespasser however, made him hesitate.

“But can I just stand by and do nothing?” As he struggled to find the right course of action, the young lady meanwhile had gone over to her chest of clothes, put on new garments, and painted her face before the mirror. Then she drew up a bench and climbed up on it. She undid her girdle and knotted it to the beam. She had already stretched forth her neck and was about to tie the other end around her neck when the child suddenly awoke and began to cry.

To the Soldier’s relief, the woman aborted the suicide, climbed down and, taking the baby to her bosom, stroked the infant's head and chest as she rocked her body slowly back and forth. Tears streamed from her eyes like a string of pearls and fell onto her child. She wept and wept. The irate ghost meanwhile heartlessly growled and hissed at this delay. She was so close to reaching her objective. She had haunted this young woman for many months wearing away her resolve. In a short while the child had again fallen asleep, and the woman once more began to look aloft. Then she rose, again climbed on the bench, and was about to lay the noose about her neck when the Soldier, risking all, began to call out loudly and drum on the window-pane to stop her. Then, with one hard punch, he broke through the pane and climbed into the room. The shocked and frightened woman fell to the ground unconscious while the ghost vanished into thin air.

Fortunately for him there was no other about. The Soldier picked up the unconscious woman and gently laid her on her bed. Then slapped her cheeks tried to bring her around. As she was about to regain consciousness, he drew away to a distance, intent on leaving. Suddenly however, something hanging down from the beam, like a cord without an end caught his eye. Knowing that it belonged to the ghost of the hanged woman he reached for it and tugged at it. Wrapping it into a coil he placed it in his inner pocket.

By this time the young woman had gained her full faculties. She trembled with fright at the perceived danger from an intruder.

The Soldier with a placating smile and in a soothing voice tried to reassure the young woman: "Forgive this intrusion. I mean you no harm, but I could not just simply stand by and have you throw your life away. Your child needs you to take good care of him! You have but one life to lose in this world!" And with that he made his hasty retreat outside.

He was fearful of the possible consequences and so he headed straight towards the Temple to retrieve his horse and his baggage and make his quick departure.

When he came out of the village he encountered the angry ghost, waiting for him on the road.

Barring his way, the ghost growled: “You have interrupted my plans and have thus wronged me terribly. I was the former wife of that faithless man; one so callously cast me aside in favour of that woman because of my inability to give him an offspring. His cold and cruel ways drove me in the end to suicide where I am now condemned to roam the Earth and suffer this vile existence for all eternity. He happens to be away for a long time and I used this opportunity to effect my revenge on him. She was blameless yes, but …” She appeared truly remorseful. “As you have interceded, there remains little for me to do now. Unfortunately I cannot depart without that thing I left behind me in my hurry. I know you have it, and so I implore you sir, please to return it to me."

The Soldier showed her the rope, "Is this the thing you mean? I’m sorry for what has happened to you. But why exact revenge on an innocent being? Your grievance is with your husband not her. I fear if I were to give it back to you may once I’m gone try again to snuff out an innocent life. And that I cannot be party to."

With these words he wound the rope around his arm and said: "Now be off with you!"

The ghost in her desperation now grew furious. Her face turned greenish-black, her hair fell in wild disorder down her neck, her eyes grew bloodshot, and her tongue hung far out of her mouth. She stretched forth both hands and tried to seize the Soldier, but he struck out at her with his clenched fist. By mistake he hit himself in the nose and it began to bleed. Then he sprinkled a few drops of blood in her direction and, since the ghosts cannot endure human blood, with a shrilling hiss she ceased her attack, moved off a few paces and began to abuse him. This she did for some time, until the cock in the village began to crow. Then the ghost let out a shrill cry and disappeared before the morning sun hit her.

In the meantime the farmer-folk of the village having been apprised of the happenings, had rushed forth to thank the Soldier. It seems that after he had left the woman, her husband had come home and asked his wife what had happened. And then for the first time he had learned of her long suffering ordeal and what had occurred that very night. So gathering some of the neighbours, they set out together along the road in order to look for the stranger.

When they found him he was still beating the air with his fists and talking wildly. So they called out to him and he told them what had taken place. The rope could still be seen on his bare arm; yet it had grown fast to it, and surrounded it in the shape of a red ring of flesh.

The day was just dawning, so the Soldier packed his belongings then swung himself into his saddle and continued his journey without a word.

The End



(Note: This folk tale has been handed down traditionally.
Adapted from: The Chinese Fairy Book (1921) by Richard Wilhelm, translated by F. H. Martens LIII. “The Ghost Who Was Foiled”- Text is available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License)