Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts

Wednesday, 29 April 2026

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE CAPITAL CHANNING – SECTION 10

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE CAPITAL CHANNING – SECTION 10 

In truth, Zaur Stugr had searched long and hard for these many years and had finally given up all hope of ever uncovering the truth and of finding out what had happened to his father. Then, just when he least expected it, because of the strange twist of fate the answer had miraculously reached out to him.

“I must relay the message through a courier (an affiliate Kozur) at dawn to, without further ado, retrieve my father's remains from that hellish pit.” Zaur Stugr nodded with resolve. Unfortunately, Zaur’s full schedule did not allowed him to leave the Capital to supervise the work himself, for nothing short of a miracle, would enable him to facilitate his being absent from his official duties long enough to conduct a proper burial with full rights and ceremony befitting the station of his Father. The burden of his office was most exacting (demanding, rigorous) on his time, same as every other official regardless of their status in Channing, for each official was constantly monitored, their every action and allotted time incessantly regulated and documented (registered), under the entrenched (engrained) layers of bureaucracy with its rigid regulatory standards and lawful domination. Not a single unsanctioned intake of breath could be taken without dire repercussions, under such oppressive and absolute rule of Emperor Zakhertan Yozdek.


01-ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (44)JP

 Perhaps when this whole business with Fradel Rurik Korvald is concluded I may find the means; I promise you, Father, your spirit will find eternal peace in Heaven while your foul murderers will pay for their nefarious deeds in Hell.”  In irritation Zaur drummed his fingers upon the box.

If only he was free, free to do what he wished without the piercing eyes of Lamont Gudaren, Zakhertan’s invincible militia and that cursed Eunuch’s Black Molochs monitoring his every move!  Regardless of all the power he wielded, and yes, he was a covert (surreptitious) rebel leader, nonetheless existing (functioning) and even thriving, under the domineering, tyrannical canopy; unfortunately, at this very moment he’d realized he was nothing but a pawn of capricious fate after all. Indubitably, in the end, his every feat (act, achievement, engagement), encounters had been preordained (predetermined, fated) by the Heavenly Gods ‘dictates.

“And you, oh my most unfortunate Father, your fate had always been far more tragic than mine could ever be!” Zaur Stugr, shamefaced, groaned, recalling Sorgun's confession to him that night long ago when Zaur was a young boy…Young and utterly innocent.

 Only years later had Zaur comprehended the full implications of those words and, from then on, had remained eternally grateful to Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon. He had henceforth honored His Lordship's memory in secret each year, on the day of Festival for the Dead.  He owed so much to Lord Zhon for all that he had done to extricate his father from the wrongful indictment and later still, for restoring him to his rightful (position) status.  But then because of the capriciousness of fate, more troubles had beset them.

Zaur Stugr’s mind presently recollected those perilous times back then, with the country in the grips of chaos (turmoil) and incessant wars, remembering most vividly, his father's sleepless nights that were spent endlessly pouring over documents, attending clandestine meetings, arranging for the provisions of armaments and his ceaselessly pacing the floor in his study until the (wee) small hours of the morning. 

Then, once more being constrained to flee, they had journeyed to far away alien lands where they had encountered (met) strange people with different (unfamiliar) dialects and customs; only to covertly return, though remain invisible, amid mainstream (ordinary) denizen obscurity (anonymity).

“Oh, father!  Father! “Zaur Stugr’s heart ached as if he had just become an orphan once more.  He leaned back, lowering his eyelids on the tears that welled up unbidden.

Zaur choked, recalling another time and another place that seemed like an eternity ago.

Zaur saw it all again in his mind’s eye, as vividly as if it was just happening before him that last exchange with his father, Sorgun Dufo. (Note: Learn all about Sorgun Dufo, in Book 6- The Assassins- Section 10)


02-- SORGUN DUFO

Sorgun Dufo stroked his son’s hair with a grave face and looked into his young eyes.  "Now, pay attention, Kundrick."

Kundrick Dufo,” Zaur softly whispered his childhood name; he had not the occasion to think of it for many years now.

 "Listen son, circumstances dictate that I should go away for a while.  Wenjenkun is in the grip of grave peril, and I have it within my (power) means to alter its ill-fated course.  I must undertake a very dangerous task, and time is of the essence.  Hopefully I will achieve my goal and spare this nation of ours from the impending catastrophe.  Though you may be only a child my son, you are strong enough to be entrusted with grave responsibility.  Take this box and guard it with your life, if necessary, until my return.  You must not fail in this, for inside is proof of the allegations I will be bringing before our Illustrious Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir. Without them all is lost."

Zaur Stugr caressed the box once more, holding it as he had gripped it as a child (of about nine years old), feeling the weight of its importance. 

"In the meantime,", Sorgun had continued, "I have arranged for you to remain in the good care of my old friend, Sanzo Tezcat.  I know you are a strong-willed boy despite your polite manners, and I charge you now to behave and do as Sanzo says. Do not give me the least cause to regret this decision.  When I return to reclaim the box, I will explain everything to you, in full detail." 

But his father never returned.

“As discerning as you were, Father,” Zaur Stugr smiled wryly, “even you did not grasp how you were being played (toyed) by fickle fate.  You did not perceive, had no way of knowing of Sanzo's secret life.  How things might have turned out differently, had either of you, more specifically him, breached that wall of secrecy and taken the other, you, into confidence.  You are not entirely to blame though father; after all, you pursued a common cause and trusted him (a confirmed bachelor) well enough to leave me, your only son, in his care. “

“It was clearly not negligence on your part; perhaps it was Sanzo's excellent disguise, crafted so well it had fooled even a childhood friend such as you.” Zaur lowered his head in woeful air.

“How capricious fate is.”

To be sure, (definitely) Sanzo Tezcat had been a master of camouflage; what’s more, he had been bound by his blood oath of allegiance sworn in complete secrecy to the Sacred Brotherhood of the Kozurs.  Since even blood relatives were kept in the dark (unless it was sanctioned by the brotherhood to reveal it, and that happened hardly ever,) Sanzo Tezcat could not have confided in Sorgun Dufo even if he had desperately wanted to, even if it were to save his own life.  So serious were the repercussions of breaking the oath that even the most horrible death was preferable to betraying the Brotherhood.

 

03- SANZO TESCAT (2)

Zaur’s noble father had never suspected that this bookish (studious, thoughtful), benevolent, and foolishly idealistic, equable (composed, placid) erudite (scholarly, historian), who always seemed to be lost in some fantasy world of his own so distant from the crude realities of present life and politics, was anything more than what he seemed.  And so, at the time, Sanzo Tezcat must have seemed the ideal, safe candidate to entrust with the safekeeping of young Kundrick Dufo.  Besides, Sorgun Dufo's own scruples and good conscience would not have permitted him to involve (or recruit) his childhood friend Sanzo, this idealistic, gentle soul into the perilous, clandestine struggle that took up his every waking moment.

Perhaps that was the root, true basis for his father's undoing; he should have looked deeper into the man’s soul, should have questioned the obvious when it came too easily.  Sanzo, a wolf in sheep's clothing, would have proved invaluable in altering the course of Sorgun's doom.

Vividly Zaur recalled the look of panic in Sanzo Tezcat 's eyes when, just three days after leaving with Sorgun Dufo on a mission, Tojo Tugo was spotted (was seen) in the crowd across the market square.

In an instant metamorphosis, Sanzo had dropped all semblance of his benign, placid (docile) disguise and clearly incensed (irked), hastened (rushed) Kundrick home at once.  Within the space of an hour, they were packed and ready for the flight to disappear in hiding.  Cursing furiously, Sanzo Tezcat had slammed things about and committed countless, obviously important documents to the roaring flames of the kitchen fire.

Despite his forced restraint, Zaur gritted his teeth and cursed the name, Tojo, Tojo Tugo, father of Imperial Captain Zunrogo Tugo.

 “May you burn like dry leaves in Hell for your treachery! “Zaur scowling cussed (swore, cursed).

Many nights since the time when he had first pieced the facts together, Zaur Stugr had anguished over the dilemma. 

Zunrogo Tugo had been a mere child back then, could he be held morally accountable for his father's heinous crimes?  In the end Zaur had exonerated Zunrogo from all blame and did not exact lawful revenge on him.

Despite this resolve, Zaur Stugr had held, in the depth of his heart, a strong dislike for Captain of the Palace Guards, Zunrogo Tugo.  If it were up to him, alone, the Undersecretary's Office would have had no dealings whatsoever with this arrogant, martinet (despot, bully).  Unfortunately, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren had long ago recognized Zunrogo’s specific talents and, over the course of the ensuing years had engaged his increasingly invaluable services to successfully carry out the most difficult of the Prime Minister's sinister schemes.

As Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s avowed subordinate (in official capacity), Minister Zaur Stugr was constrained to maintain an outward (superficial) civil relation with Zunrogo, son of Tojo the traitor; and when bid to do so, enable (facilitate) the despised Captain to augment (expand) his influence and fortunes. Despite solid evidence, Zaur suspected Zunrogo Tugo of having other affiliates, moreover, a far more powerful patron (benefactor) than PM, not ruling out the possibility of that sponsor being someone from the Royal Yozdek Family.

At this point Zaur's mind, unexpectedly, reverted to his childhood.

"How will Father find us?  I'm not going anywhere." Zaur remembered crying out as he squirmed and wrestled against the servants with all his might, steadfastly refusing to budge an inch. 

That was the first time that Zaur (Kurndrick Dufo) had ever defied his father's dictate.

Zaur smiled, recalling how stubborn and cheeky (rebellious) he’d been back then.

 As it were, when threat, force and reasoning failed to sway Kundrick Dufo, the steward Lios then had resorted to a ruse.  Pretending to have briefly consulted Sanzo Tezcat, wily (crafty) Lios had, by choosing his words very carefully, reassured Kundrick that Sorgun Dufo had already sent word to Sanzo that he would meet with them at their intended destination once his pursuers were thrown off his trail.


04- FEARLES KUNDRICK DUFO

When defiant Kundrick had boldly confronted his guardian in his study later still, demanding Sanzo validate this info, Sanzo Tezcat had simply suppressed an outward venting of his displeasure (at this obstinate upstart) and glared sternly at Kundrick.

 His gruff silence had, oddly enough, reaffirmed in Kundrick’s mind that the words Lios had spoken were the truth.  Thus beguiled, Kundrick Dufo (Zaur Stugr) had then complied willingly with all that was expected of him. 

After they had fled to safety, Kundrick had waited fruitlessly for many a day, looking forward to that time when he would be reunited with his father. Every night before going to sleep he’d envisioned (in his mind’s eye) the joyful event, how he would eagerly, elatedly greet his father and then excitedly blather away, recounting (relaying) the many hair-raising adventures he had already experienced.

When their urgent flight to safety had warranted a third move within one year, Kundrick Dufo bit more wizened (more able to discern a lie from the truth) and skeptical, this time he’d adamantly stood his ground, obstinate and unafraid.  Raising quite a ruckus he’d demanded the full explanation he felt was his right to have. On the verge of being bound, gagged, and forcibly transported, Sanzo Tezcat just then arriving on the disordered scene, in an icy tone (a voice commanding absolute obedience), had barked, “Put the boy down.”

Zaur could still envisage (visualize, picture) the riveting scene, how Sanzo’s brief, forbidding look that fanned the room had instantly frozen all commotion (clamor) and frenzied protestations.

 A tomblike (deadly) lethal tension had gripped the room as all, save for Kundrick, stood perfectly still with their heads lowered in abject contrition.

Sanzo Tezcat with slow, deliberate steps, hands clasped behind him, walked over to the window, and gazed absently outside; he stood there for what seemed an eternity, his hand then (grasping) resting on the hilt of his partially hidden stiletto (an ancient, ceremonial dagger). Sanzo’s dark green, piercing eyes subsequently had reverted back to Kundrick Dufo; noting with some amusement, the boy’s adamant stance and the unflinching stare of defiance returned back to him, Sanzo simply nodded.

In truth, despite the just then wavering, inexplicable fear Kundrick had felt in the pit of his stomach, determined not to show any weakness, he had obdurately (pig-headedly) tunneled his hard gaze into Sanzo's eyes.

The steward Lios, having been rather fond of the indomitable boy and at that moment fearing for his safety, had defied his subservient place to cough gently and to flash Kundrick with a worried look.

Quite unexpectedly however, Sanzo's face had suddenly softened (relaxed) and he threw his head back and gave a loud, boisterous laugh that resounded in the tense stillness of the air.

"Ignorance makes a lion of the lamb (young sheep)." Kundrick thought he heard Sanzo Tezcat grumble under his breath as he walked over (drew near) to the boy and seated himself comfortably into a plush chair.

“Who’s he calling a lamb?” Zaur remembered well, how he’d inwardly seethed in rage at the time. He was a real firebrand (a troublemaker, a real hothead) back then.

Kundrick’s fury unleashed he stood ready to pounce on Sanzo, “I’ll show him...” 

But then, steward Lios, catching the boy's attention just then, his eyes had implored Kundrick to keep still and to concede, warning him of dire chastisement if he persisted with his defiance.


05-SANZO TESCAT (10)

Sanzo Tezcat, well composed, with his hard gaze glued to Kundrick Dufo, had pondered on a concern for quite some time, as though the urgency of their flight had never existed and as if they had all the time in the world to spare.  In contrast, these precarious moments had dragged on, for Kundrick and presumably, for his friend and ally, Lios.

Then unexpectedly Sanzo had slightly leaned forward and indicated that Kundrick was to take the seat across from him as, with a singular look, he dismissed the steward and the rest of the servants from the room.  Kundrick Dufo, unflinchingly never taking his eyes once off his guardian, had complied.

Instead of the admonishment he had expected, however, Sanzo had, in a sympathetic, patient tone, promised that one day, when it was appropriate for him to do so, Kundrick would receive all the pertinent knowledge that he sought and that he, Sanzo himself, would answer unequivocally all Kundrick’s queries without the least reserve.

“Until then,” Sanzo had austerely ejected next, “it would be most dangerous for a boy of your stature (station), to possess too much knowledge.”

Looking away Sanzo had then in a softer tone distractedly added, “And since it seems we would be together for quite a long while, I prefer to have our relationship be, more affable (amiable).”

Sanzo, rebounding from that momentary sentiment quickly however, had again austerely exhorted (urged) Kundrick to behave, as his father would have wanted him to, with the decorum becoming of his station and to show the perseverance and self-discipline that was his innate (inherent) good breeding. 

Most incredible, Sorgun Dufo had been one of those rare, exceptional individuals (persons) who had won Sanzo's eternal gratitude and affection. Fortunately for Kundrick Dufo, he had been the beneficiary of all that respect Sanzo had held (felt) for his father and, though the boy had been nothing but a liability thus far, in fact, by this last defiant spectacle (demonstration) worn rather thin his privilege, Kundrick, as sole exception, had still been tolerated by his guardian.  Zaur had learned years later how dangerously close he’d come to being slayed that day.

It had taken tremendous amount of self-control on Sanzo’s part, not to have lashed out and simply offed (killed) the boy; in the end, during his pondering Sanzo seeing something in the boy, (in fact Kundrick had reminded him of his own unruly childhood-self,) that Sanzo had decided from henceforth, to judge the boy on his own merit (instead of his father's) and to give him one last chance.

Sanzo then had communicated to Kundrick in no uncertain terms that, if he wished to remain under his guardianship and in his good graces, absolute obedience was required and expected of him. The underlying tone of this last part (of Sanzo’s speech) had been most firm and severe, leaving no room for discussion or negotiation.

 

(END OF SECTION 10)

 

                                                                                   ~

Friday, 12 September 2025

HSIAO TSUI (REVISED 2025)

 

HSIAO TSUI (REVISED 2025)      

(Revised by BoSt)

01- YUANFENG

Magistrate Sui Wang had only one son Yuanfeng. Yuanfeng had been born to the Magistrate in his autumn years and though the boy was inimitable (unique) in sensitivity and with his innate generosity, he was unfortunately bit abnormal in the head (mind); nevertheless, the Magistrate focusing solely on the boy’s good qualities, deeply cherished the boy. Throughout his growing years Yuanfeng lacked for nothing; he was schooled painstakingly in all fields of education to enable him to be a fine, upstanding being. Unfortunately, all the other parents in the neighborhood still looked down on the boy and when he reached the marriageable age, despite the promised rich dowry, remained most reluctant to even consider him as potential mate for their daughters. The magistrate and his wife were deeply distraught by this and, were very much concerned for his future well being.  Never mind the grandchildren; who will look after Yuan after the demise of his parents?

Then one day a surprise visitor, a mother with her daughter came to call on the Magistrate. Ushered in and after the customary solicitations she disclosed her willingness to marry her daughter to Yuan-feng without any need for dowry. Most surprising of all was the fact that the daughter was an exquisite beauty with fine manners and above average intelligence. Delighted, the Magistrate could hardly believe his luck at this great good fortune. His wife however, convinced him not to seek ulterior motive to this Heaven sent luck.  The mother of the girl forgoing any details of the pending nuptials said she would return in three days and left behind her daughter, Hsiao Tsui, to allow her and the future in-laws to get to know each other.

The girl was most comfortably housed and given all the comforts of home. Servants’ were assigned to her to see to her every need.  Several days passed but still there appeared no sign of the mother. The Wangs asked the daughter-in law to be, several times, to learn where she previously had lived, so as to send someone to investigate the suspected unforeseen trouble that could have delayed her mother’s return.  However, each time her response had been, a bashful silence and an adorable, coy smile.

02- YUANFENG AND HSIAO TSUI

Meanwhile all this time Hsiao Tsui did not seem to mind) Yuanfeng’s nonconforming (odd, peculiar), insipid (immature) ways. Hsiao Tsui and their son Yuanfeng, meanwhile, seemed to get along just fine. Always well chaperoned they spent many congenial, fun times together. Often Hsiao Tsui would joke and do silly things with him. Their hearty (enthusiastic), loud laughter resounded in the house, bringing constant joy to his parents.   Moreover, ordinarily introverted and very shy, Yuanfeng seemed to come out of his shell lately, filling the air with resounding mirth (jollity) and unending merriment; furthermore, with her directive, he began accomplishing many brilliant art projects, a talented side they’d been blind to till then.  

When the two were too rambunctious in their play, the Wangs didn't have the heart to rebuke them and simply let them be. After half a year’s absence, the Wangs, for propriety sake, concluding the mother may never show, selected an auspicious date for their son's wedding.

Living on the same lane was Censor Ko Wang (no relation though they shared the same surname) who had always been on bad terms with Magistrate Wang and attempted to undermine him (at every opportunity and) anyway he could in the imperial court. Having found out about this situation, Hsiao Tsui one night disguised herself as a well-known ministry official and dressed up two maidservants in green robes. They left the house, and Hsiao Tsui said jokingly, "I want to visit Mr. Wang."

As they arrived in front of Censor Ko Wang's house, she said angrily, "I wanted to visit Magistrate Wang, not the censor! “And with a huff, turned around.

When they arrived home, the doorkeeper mistakenly thought a distinguished guest had arrived and hastily went in to notify the magistrate. Magistrate Wang hurried out. Realizing that it was Hsiao Tsuis’ prank, he said angrily, "The censor has been waiting to find an excuse to frame me. Now I'm doomed. “Hsiao Tsui only smiled and didn't say a word.

It turned out that Censor Ko Wang believed the real ministry official had visited Magistrate Wang and thought they were close friends, so he ceased to undermine the magistrate and began to fawn on him instead. Realizing what Hsiao Tsui had done, Magistrate Wang praised her for her cleverness.

A year later, the real ministry official was discharged. A private letter addressed to Magistrate Wang was miss-delivered to Censor Ko Wang. Incensed (enraged) Censor Wang took the chance to blackmail the magistrate for ten thousand pieces of silver. The magistrate was ignorant of the misdelivered letter and refused to pay him the silver.

04- SENSOR KO WANG

Having been denied the money, Censor Ko Wang, fuming, left the premises. As his carriage veered around the corner, suddenly, he observed (spotted, saw) a familiar looking woman pushing Yuanfeng out of the side door. As his carriage passed them by, through the open slit (gap) of the curtain, taking a closer look, he was both surprised and overjoyed, because unmistakably Yuanfeng was dressed up in the imperial cap and gown. Immediately alighting (descending) from the hastily stopped posh carriage, he approached them; then with guile, using placating words directed at Yuanfeng, remarkably achieving his aim, he obtained (retrieved, removed) the boy’s cap and the outer gown. Armed with this incriminating evidence (impersonating the emperor, a crime punishable with sure death), he then quickly returned to his residence.

That same night, Censor Wang filed a deposition (statement memorial) and sent it to the emperor, accusing the magistrate and his son of mutiny against the throne. The emperor, weary of Censor Wang’s growing influence, personally reviewed the furnished evidence; when he discovered that the cap was made of sorghum stems and the gown a dirty yellow rag, he laughed inwardly. Upon summoning Yuanfeng, the discerning emperor saw that the boy was not right in the head, that he was a simpleton, and so passed judgement (determined) that Censor Wang had falsely accused the magistrate. The emperor, moreover, declared Censor Wang guilty of libel and sent him to do military service at border province in Yunan.

The Wangs realized by this time that Hsiao-Tsui was not an ordinary person. Hsiao Tsui would only smile and say, "I'm the emperor's daughter." Further interrogation would not elicit any more response from her.

One day in the summer, being a particularly scorching day, Yuanfeng was about to take a bath. Hsiao-Tsui prepared the bath and helped him into the tub. Feeling the heat and the steam, Yuanfeng tried to escape. But Hsiao-Tsui took a quilt and covered the tub with it. Moments later when the quilt was removed, Yuanfeng was dead.

Upon discovering what had happened, Mrs. Wang screamed hysterically," You lunatic! You murdered my son!

Distraught Hisao Tsui holding back her tears ran away, till she reached the shoreline, there, she quietly implored the Heavenly Lord of the Sea to set things right and remedy her unwitting (innocent) mistake. As it were, after all this time, her affections for Yuan Feng had grown to something akin to tender adoration and deep (genuine) love.

06- HSIAO TSUI

Meanwhile back at home, amidst all the chaos and mother’s sorrow, Yuanfeng had suddenly sat up, opened his eyes wide and let out a guttural moan. He began to recall the past and said it felt like a dream. From that day on, Yuanfeng was disadvantaged no longer. His thinking and behavior were that of a perfectly normal person.

But trouble, once visited, being never too far, later Magistrate Wang was suspected of duplicity (deception) and he was formally charged (accused) of passing his son all these years as an invalid, retarded, to keep him safe at home and away from state or military (obligation) duty. The second incredulous charge which ensued in its wake (aftermath), was that he was accused of witchcraft by members of Censor Wang's coterie, because of his son’s obvious, miraculous transformation to, not just normalcy, but brilliance.

Only one thing remained for them to do: bribe the local official to avoid sure disaster. And so, the Wangs dug out the family treasure, an expensive vase, and were prepared to send it as a gift to the key local official to sway his final judgement.

But ill luck never comes singly; it so happens that on the day the vase was to be packaged and sent in an elaborate box, Hsiao Tsui had picked it up and was admiring the quality of workmanship, when sudden thud on the windowsill scared her and she dropped it on the floor, shattering it to million pieces. Naturally, still not over the chagrin of being discharged, and now seeing the vase in pieces, the Wangs flew into a rage.

Tears once more welling up in her eyes, Hsiao Tsui went to Yuanfeng and said, "The things I have done for your family are more valuable than a vase. Yet, time and again I have been scolded. I have endured all this in silence. After all, the reason I am here is to express my mother's gratitude. She is actually a fox spirit. Twenty years ago she was struck by lightning and was cared by your father. But today with things as they are, how are we to be husband and wife?"

When she finished, she dashed out of the door. Yuanfeng chased after her, but she was nowhere to be seen. After that day, Yuanfeng thought of her day and night. In deep despair, he wept on and on. Even his parents' sincerest apologies were in vain (no consolation). Two years passed, Magistrate was cleared of charges, and the family regained their former status. All had returned to norm, except for Yuanfeng. He still grieved for his lost love, refusing to ever marry.

Then one day Yuanfeng was passing by a walled garden of a modest villa belonging to his family at the outskirts of the city, a summer retreat-property, constructed at the edge of a pristine lake: when he heard a familiar sounding laughter coming from the interior and he stayed the advance of his mount. Climbing up on his saddle he curiously peered over the wall, his heart leaped, and his breath caught at his throat, as his eyes just then fell on none other than Hsiao Tsui!

08-HSIAO TSUI (SAME AS EVER)

He was too impatient to ride to the gate, so he quickly scaled the wall and rushed up to her. After a passionate embrace, holding their hands together and tears welling up in their eyes, the loving couple poured out their stories of longing for each other. Hsiao Tsui’s heart broke seeing the disheveled state that Yuanfeng was in. But still she refused to go home with him. So, under the pretense of convalescing from illness, Yuanfeng moved to the garden to live with Hsiao Tsui.

A year later, because Hsiao Tsui was unable to bear him a child, she advised Yuanfeng to marry someone else. Yuanfeng had adamantly refused at first, but Hsiao Tsui was persistent, so Yuanfeng reluctantly agreed, and decided to marry the daughter of Minister Chung. During the days before the wedding, Hsiao Tsui sewed a hand-made wedding dress for the bride-to-be.

On the wedding day, the bride entered the house. Yuanfeng and his family were flabbergasted to find her resembling Hsiao Tsui in every way.

Yuanfeng rushed over to the garden. Hsiao Tsui was nowhere to be found. Left behind was only a red handkerchief with a jade pendant tied onto it.

FIN

Tuesday, 1 July 2025

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 21

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 21

02- ABBOT TUHO

After the scholar Fradel had left the room, Yenis hung her head, pouting for a long while, as seething anger stirred within her.  Eventually putting her disappointment and rage forcefully aside, she reclined and attempted in earnest to get some sleep.  Still, her melancholy and irritation drove away any sleep and she stayed fully awake most of that night, wrapped in a despondent, fitful mood, suffering from emotions and thoughts that obstinately refused to go away.

In the next room, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) had spread out his overcoat next to a dry wall, rolled his outer garments up into a neat bundle and placed them under his head as he lay down to sleep.  Hearing a stirring behind him, he instantly turned and sat bolt upright.

Luminous, swirling vapors circled the center of the room, finally settling to reveal the apparitions of three handsomely clad monks kneeling to face him in supplication, flanked by two novices carrying lamps which glowed with a cold fire. 

Rising to his feet, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) was about to accost them when the center monk bowed low on courtesy and, in a resounding voice, gave solemn greetings to him invoking the name Prince Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir. He then added:

"Abbot Tuho respectfully requests an audience with Your Highness.  Please follow us."

Not waiting for Nevetsecnuac's reply, they rose to their feet in unison and, bowing, floated out of the room.

"Please wait up, sirs."  Nevetsecnuac grabbed the bundle of garments and rushed outside after them trying, as he moved, to clothe himself decently.  Everything outside was bathed in unnatural, cool daylight, its beauty almost taking Nevetsecnuac ‘breath away.  All had been transformed into the exact semblance of its former glory.  In the splendor of the days before the monk's demise Nevetsecnuac noted the red columns, inlaid with jewels lining the halls.  Cut diamond chandeliers were suspended from the ceiling, their brilliance mirrored in the smooth marble of the floors.  Brilliantly colored murals surrounded every door and, flanking the portals, tall, lifelike statues stood sentry over the rare fragrances wafting in from the courtyard outside.

Nevetsecnuac passed through polished white terraces, over petal strewn paths checkered by the cold sun's golden rays, and around crystalline ponds housing darting goldfish.  Rare birds sang joyously from branches adorned with spring flowers, their melody in perfect consonance with the monk's lugubrious harmonies and the rhythmic pealing of bells.  All was so indescribably beautiful, so entrancingly transient and serene that Nevetsecnuac felt as if he was in a heavenly palace among the immortals.

Returning inside, he trod on plush carpeting, so soft he felt he was walking on clouds and noted with interest the identities of the idols that inhabited the great hall.  His wish to stop and pay his proper respects to these gods, however, was overridden by the monks' unwillingness to wait.  After a slight bow from the waist, he picked up his steps and rushed after the monks, who had very nearly vanished from view.  Seeing them disappear behind a large set of doors, he followed their lead and entered the Great Hall, where some seven or eight hundred monks, draped in magnificent capes, had already assembled. 

Separated into two neat groups arrayed around the center like a palm leaf, they were kneeling, hands clasped, in absolute obeisance (homage, respect) to the surprisingly young-looking Abbot, who was sitting in his golden cloud-patterned high-backed chair, positioned at left, center of the dais (platform). Abbot was the only one that did not have his eyes closed in deep trance.  Behind him at slightly lower podium, in intricately carved chairs set, the key (prominent)administrative priests, other high-ranking staff and scribes. etc. 

Instructed to wait at the door by the portal's guards, Nevetsecnuac watched his three guides take their respective places, close their eyes and strike the same pose as the rest. 

The two novices brought their lighted staffs to Nevetsecnuac's side and quietly led him up to the Abbot's dais.  His eminence’s eyes were at first lowered (half-closed) in contemplative pose, as if in prayer, his manner, serene yet imposing and dignified.

Nevetsecnuac waited until the golden-haired, most august-looking Abbot Tuho finally looked up and smiled at Nevetsecnuac.  

At once, Nevetsecnuac bowed his head reverently to the Abbot, who solemnly reciprocated (returned) the bow, then placed his palms together before his chest then raised it to his forehead in the traditional greeting.

Coming forward next, the Abbot took Nevetsecnuac's hands and, smiling warmly, said,

"It’s very kind of Your Highness to honor us with your presence.  May we now request that Your Highness permit us to show proper and due respect as well as our boundless gratitude."

He ushered Nevetsecnuac into a seat of honor, a magnificent high-backed chair intriguingly carved with a dragon motif, bearing the Seal of the reign of Nevetsecnuac's grandfather, on a singly higher podium to the right.

"This is where His Majesty, Zuronghan Therran Valamir, always sat to receive our oaths of fealty.  This honor is now conferred on to you, Your Highness."

03- NEVETSECNUAC BEING HONORED

 After Nevetsecnuac, with all due modesty, took up his seat, Abbot Tuho, the elder monks, the Prior, the Abbot's assistant, the Deacon, the two senior scribes and all others arrayed themselves by rank in single file to the accompaniment of bells, drums and gongs.

 When all was still once more, the long procession of monks came forward in measured steps and, one by one, knelt and touched their foreheads reverently to the floor before Nevetsecnuac.  Each one proclaimed their fealty and gratitude to him.  Their resounding, rippling words permeated the air of the Great Hall with an aura of auspicious light.

Just then a scented breeze wafted through the Hall and the ceiling of the Great Hall parted with reverberating thunder.  All eyes(heads) turned upwards; Nevetsecnuac, the Abbot and all the monks without exception, immediately and with reverence (of this miracle), had dropped to their knees, mutely expressing deep gratitude to all the Gods, Immortals and Royal lineage, for this special (favor) blessing.

 Nevetsecnuac with misted eyes observed high above him, hosted by various Gods riding the backs of Dragons, his majestic grandfather, his father, and the other members of the Royal family, all, peering down at him from the luminous clouds and approvingly smiling at him. 

Subsequently, after all the revered beings had departed and the ceiling once more sealed (closed up), Abbot Tuho wreathed in smiles coming forth, invited Nevetsecnuac to a feast in the huge dining hall of the Abbey, to commemorate this auspicious occasion.  They took up their respective seats and happily partook (consumed, shared) the delightful array of exotic fruits from distant lands and sundry, intercontinental vegetarian dishes; meanwhile, from silver goblets all drunk heartily the refreshing liquids to quench their rising thirsts, while they listened to the soothing melodies of the harp.

During dinner Nevetsecnuac, seizing an opportunity, politely asked Abbot Tuho for his guidance.

"All is to be done according to Heaven's will."  The Abbot paused and then, in a quiet, serious voice, added, "Your Highness, you must remember that perceived reality is an illusion, and things are rarely what they seem.  Lay your trust in the unlikely one and pluck out the root of evil implanted in the abandoned son."

"Help…Help!  Save me!"  A sudden, desperate cry shook Nevetsecnuac into wakefulness.

He found himself, fully dressed, seated on a wooden crate in the middle of the large, dilapidated hall.  Only the moonlight, streaming through the broken windows and the gaps in the walls illuminated his way.  It was most fortunate that he had marked the area well during the day's surveying, for now he had to blindly rush back to Yenis' room.  She was obviously in mortal danger.

When he reached the outside of her door he hesitated to enter for a moment or two and knocked instead.  "Are you all, right?" he inquired, afraid she may not be decent; afraid she may only be having a nightmare.

"Ay!  Get away from me!  Help me, Master Fradel!  Save me!"

Her shout quickly made up his mind for him.  Forsaking propriety, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) burst inside; to apprehend the culprit but he found no such person there.

 She was sitting, all alone, on the edge of the bedding, trembling in fright.  Soaked in perspiration, her diaphanous inner garment clung tightly to her body, attenuating the outlines of her exposed bosom as it swelled and heaved with her gasps.

Embarrassed, Fradel lowered his eyes to the ground at once, muttering apologies for the intrusion, and started to take his leave.

"Please don't go.  I'm so frightened." the girl pleaded in a quivering, provocative voice.

"Don't be." Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) assured her, his eyes still pinned to the ground.

"It's your taut nerves that are playing tricks on you.  It was only a bad dream.  I'll light this torch and leave it here for you, if you like."

"But I really did see someone sinister lurking about.  It was not a dream, I swear it!" in a tragic tone she protested.

 "I was not asleep yet.  Truly there was someone in my room.  I did not get to see his face, but he stood over there, as surely as I am here…A monstrously big man with grizzled red hair and blazing beard."

"That's impossible." Fradel shook his head.  "This room has no windows and no other openings besides the door I just came in.  I made sure of that earlier.  How could he appear out of thin air?"  He was beginning to lose patience with her.

"You're mocking me.", she said indignantly, pouting, puckering her lips. "Has it occurred to you that there might be a secret passage here that you might have overlooked?"

"No, that was ruled out when I thoroughly searched this room earlier."  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) was unrelenting, but softened his tone to urge her, without turning around, "Please do not be afraid and try to get some rest."

04- YENIS LUKO

"Oh, please, I implore you, don’t go." She whimpered (moaned) seductively, then rushed over to tug at his sleeve.

 "I don't care if you believe me or not, just don't leave me alone.  I'm sorry if I spoke harshly just then."  Stomping her foot, she rebuked him gently, "You just don't care what happens to me; you obviously don’t! But how can you be so heartless to leave me here all alone without any protection?"

 Weeping, she ran back and threw herself on the bedding.  "I'm afraid.  What if he comes back?" she looked up to ask, despairingly.

Recalling the other set of footprints in the tunnel, the large ones paralleling those of Yenis, which she’d claimed to have had no knowledge of, and remembering the Abbot's parting injunction that ‘things are not what they seemed’, Fradel stopped.  The girl was frightened in earnest.  Perhaps there was something in what she claimed, for that odd sensation of being watched by unseen eyes gnawed at him again.

 "Well, all right." he acquiesced with his back still towards her.  "You may rest easy; I’ll stand guard outside the door."  He closed the door after him then sat down with his back against it.

Is this scholar made of flesh and bone? Nevertheless, comforted by his presence outside, shrugging her shoulders, Yenis closed her eyes to sleep.

 Oh well, there will be plenty of other opportunities.  Resigned to this night’s temporary setback, she yawned a few more times then, rolling over, soon drifted into blissful sleep for the remainder of the night.

 

(END OF SECTION 21)

                                                                                          ~ 

Sunday, 18 May 2025

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION - 18

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 18


01- YAGU DORKA

"How long is it going to take you to sharpen that Axe and machete, boy?  Hurry up, Yaggy, we haven't got all day." he urged the second son. Aguda was about to instruct Kenny to undress (disrobe, unclothe) the victim, when the excited barking noise of the caged canines(dogs) alerted him to his cousin’s early arrival.

“Blast; he’s back already?”  Too late, Aguda heard his cousin Yagu’s advancing unsteady footsteps.

 Where is everybody? The old man with curses on his lips, clung tightly onto the railing for security and, hauled his tired old body up as he, same time negotiated the soggy stone steps of the porch.

Aguda, having dropped his booty in the corner, had quickly rushed outside the kitchen door, passed through the hallway and now strove to block the old man's way with a barrage of questions.

"Yagu, what a fine time it is too, you finally got back!  You’ve been gone for so long that we were worried sick to death, thinking that something terrible might have happened to you on the way.  Next time you don't go alone, you'll take Zog with you.  Well, what did the doctor say?  Is your condition serious or not? How was the trip?"

"As if you care!" the old man interrupted Aguda's patter with a restraining hand gesture.  "Never mind about me, but you sure look guilty. And wipe that grin off your face and answer me quickly, what are you up to now?  I bet you, is it something sinister, disgusting or decidedly evil? “

Seeing the other’s hesitation, Yagu angrily snapped. “Don’t try denying it; I've already seen the horse in the stable."  Yagu shook an angry, accusatory finger before the innkeeper's face then pushed him aside to enter the kitchen.

 "And what's this, your latest victim?"  He intended to say more but his rage caught in his throat, and he collapsed into a violent fit of coughing.

"Now look at the state you've brought upon yourself!"  Aguda, showing concern, rushed to his side and helped him into a chair.  He slapped Yagu on the back several times, hard, to loosen the phlegm in his cousin's lungs.  After turning to address his son Kenny, “Stop what you’re about to do!” Aguda ordered him, “And go fetch Yagu a hot cup of tea at once.” 

Gradually, Yagu's purple coloring faded as his coughing fit subsided.

Outside, a kid's voice was heard; pleading to be allowed to join his grandpa in the kitchen but this was soon cut short by shout, “he doesn’t need you to bother him now,” and the sound of a hand smartly striking his cheek.  The sniffling youngster was then forcefully dragged away by the teenage boy Kenny who, despite his usual tepid (apathetic, indifferent) nature, was a cauldron of evil, an actual brute in his own right. 

The old man Yagu wished he had the strength to intervene, but abuse of this sort was all too common in this household.

Aguda snatched the steeping (infusing) hot teapot from Kenny’s hand and poured part of the infusion (tea) into Yagu’s cup to distract him from his grandson’s plight. 

"Here you go, have a bit more; it will warm you up.  You've given me terrible fright just now; you know you mustn't get so excited (worked-up) in your condition."  Seeing the old man had calmed a bit, he coaxed, "Look how you're still dripping wet.  Why don't you go change into some dry clothes and forget everything else.  I'll take care of things here."

His face growing red once more, the old man's temper flared anew.  Rasping in his dry, harsh voice, he pounded the table with his trembling hand and cursed, "You are going to get us all damned to Hell!  You want me to turn a blind eye to the murder of one of our guests; and this foul murder committed just under my very own roof? “Yagu shook his head and then somberly added: “Robbing them is one thing but butchering them in that hideous manner is inhuman!  I absolutely refuse to condone it!"  Again, he coughed, and drew in a long, shuddering breath.

"Call it what you will." Aguda (already feeling a tinge of guilt) lost his temper; highly incensed at this reprimand, he then snarled: “You know very well that we must do this to be safe.  What makes you so high and mighty?”

But then regretting his outburst, in a gentler voice he reasoned. “Dear cousin, buying this cursed inn was your idea to begin with; I wanted to open up a wine shop in town but, no, you wanted a roof over our heads.  You wouldn't hear of it.  Still, it was a fine idea while the customers were steady."

Yagu’s stern expression had not altered in the least. Angered anew, Aguda sat down with a disgruntled huff and pounded the table with his fist.  "Things have changed now, so get used to it."

Aguda ground his teeth, then after a moment’s silence again warned as he, same time shook an irate finger at the old man.  "When things started to go bad, and I wanted to pack up and start a new business elsewhere you wouldn't hear of it.  Your procrastination has cost us what little money we could have gotten from the sale of the Dancing Bear.  Now it’s too late.  Yet we still have to pay taxes and extortion money to those vultures to keep them from feeding on our carcasses.  You know those bastards only care about lining their pockets.  What do they care about if we are barely able to carve out our subsistence?  The first time we fail to produce the money they'll beat us to a pulp and haul us all off, you and your precious grandson included, to debtor’s jail where we'll assuredly meet a miserable end.”

"So, I ask you, what would you have me do?  Well?"  The innkeeper paused just long enough to give emphasis, but not enough for Yagu to respond. 

"Robbing them is one thing, you say, but if we don't dispose of the corpse completely, would we not run an even greater risk of being discovered?  Do you know what the penalty for robbing unsuspecting customers is?  I'll tell you, it’s the same as committing murder. In jail, once under duress they have extracted your confession and promptly pronounced you guilty, without the benefit of trial, you’ll be beaten to death. The executioner would then cut off your head and post it on spike (spear) at the city gate, as a warning to others. And your headless corpse, well, I don’t need to remind you what happens to that."

Seeing the old man cringe and give an involuntary shudder, “That's right." Aguda reasserted.  "Remember, cousin, I once used to be a clerk at the Magistrate's Office before my unjust dismissal.  I know what goes on in those dark cells.”

“Oh, you can be certain I make no exaggerations here.  Far worse, far more appalling crimes against human dignity are practiced there on a daily basis than we could ever have committed here.  So don't talk to me about law or humanity, as far as I am concerned there is only one law, one rule for me and my family to follow, the law of survival.  I must do all I can to subsist, even if it means vending (selling) my soul to the demons, to do it.  So, don't think that you can deter my aim, with your sanctimonious air or nagging!”

"I toiled so hard; all those years of tough grind, all those years of hard work; where did it ever get me or you?  You're still pining away for your lost son.  Well, I've got three living ones and a wife here to think of.  Shall I leave them all to starve, or be tortured?

No… Absolutely not!   I'll be damned if I give them up without a fight!”

“And what about your precious grandson; are you willing to sacrifice him so easily to accommodate your principles?  You know that nothing will grow on this wretched, barren soil, and that we're too strapped now to move out. So don’t go on being so censorious! Besides, what makes you think it’s any different out there?  Maybe it’s worse."  Aguda, having had his say, at the end of this long tirade, rather smugly now, leaned back and wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead.

"You could talk around the devil himself!" Yagu snapped back, having got his second wind and now that his cousin had finally stopped his rant.

 His stern eyes scrutinized Aguda, then, stricken with sudden remorse, Yagu hung his head, and he softened. His next remark lacked fire.  "Yes.", he acquiesced, for he could no longer dispute the other's arguments.

 Though his conscience had greatly pained (hurt) him, had he not always, as he had now, given in to their inexorable predicament?

Yagu’s head hung lower in deep shame, for even though he did not engage in the brutal act, turning a blind eye to it, time and again, did it not make him an accessory (accomplice) to Aguda’s crimes?   Yagu shared just as much guilt.  And besides, when the matter of their survival hung in the balance, overriding any question of morality, what right did he have to exonerate himself and load all the blame on his cousin, marking him, shamelessly, in front of his sons as the sole villain when the end result benefited all of them?

Coughing violently, Yagu rose and drew near to the table, bending over to have a better look at the latest victim, meaning, perhaps, to silently beg this stranger's forgiveness.  His eyes examined the scholar’s features, pausing (his gaze) at length on the face.

Odd, he looks strangely familiar? Hmmm…. Yagu mused, cupping his chin in his hand.

“I feel as though I've seen him somewhere before, but perhaps with a short beard …”

“Oh, Heaven’ forgive me! Can he be… is he that most remarkable youth, of four years ago?”  Suddenly his eyes bulged and astonished, his mouth dropped open.

Still, he needed to be certain; so, he drew his face ever closer and burrowed his scrutinizing eyes (stare) on Nevetsecnuac.

 But how could that be?  He shrugged his shoulders, bit the corner of his lower lip and stamped his feet in vexation.

Yaggy, meanwhile, having just then finished honing the hatchet’s blade, excitedly brought the shiny cleaver (axe) over to his father.  He stood most eager to begin the carnage (butchery).

Aguda signaled his son to wait.  "Listen, cousin," he then approached Yagu, suspecting that the old man was still wavering, "you know it’s got to be done, so why don't you leave us, since you can't stomach the sight.  Rid yourself of those pesky wet clothes and lie down to rest, before you make your ailment worse.  I'll have Kenny to bring you some more hot tea."

"But I think I know this young man!" Disregarding Aguda's words, Yagu turning, looked up with a flushed face to exclaim excitedly.

 He held up a restraining hand to freeze Aguda's query or retort.  "Just give me a moment longer will you, just to make sure."

"Surely you aren't telling me that you, a peasant, know a rich scholar?" Aguda mocked Yagu, then frowning, shook a finger at the old man.  "If this is another one of your stalling tactics, I warn you..."

The old man was totally absorbed with Nevetsecnuac.  "Oh, by the Gods!"  Suddenly he uttered a cry as he jerked back, his hand now clasped to his mouth.

 "Yes, no doubt about it.  It’s him!  It’s definitely him!"  Yagu’s complexion turned ashen (ghostly pale) as the realization of what had almost happened dawned on (occurred to) him; horror gripped his heart, and the words congealed in his throat.

 "What is it, cousin?" Aguda clasped the old man on the shoulder, truly concerned.

"What's wrong with you...? What is it that ails you?”

“Answer me first, his name… what was the name he gave to you?”

“I don’t know… You expect me to remember his name? What difference does it make?

"You don't understand!" Yagu clutched at Aguda's collar, jerking him forward, almost choking him with an unusual strength.

 "This…. This is the very young person who, four years ago, delivered me and my grandson from those bandits.  It's with his money that we bought this place, fool!  He’s the one who……” His explanation was interrupted with another spell of violent coughing.  As he habitually massaged the pain in his chest, great beads of sweat (appeared) burst out on his forehead.

"I'm dam sure, most assuredly, it’s him!  He's the one who avenged my son Ake's death, restored my grandson Lerty to me, and gave me the funds to buy this inn." Yagu hoarsely reiterated; then rubbed his burning throat to bring some relief.

 "Haven't I always had a good memory for faces?  Once I hear him speak, I'll be more certain."

"So, this isn't definite after all?" Aguda caught the slip.

“Tell me, try to remember… Was his name … Svein, Svein…. something?"

“Come to think of it, it might have been…… But still, how can you be so positive it’s the very youth? You’d mentioned that your benefactor was a skilled fighter but said nothing about him being a scholar?" Aguda demanded with skepticism, not liking the idea of releasing prey already in his snare.

Yagu’s coughing subsided; the old man looked up to burrow his resentful gaze into Aguda's eyes and sternly dictate, "Read my lips. Killing this young man is now totally out of question, not until I've made certain, at least, that it isn't him. Do I make myself clear?  I may be guilty of many things, but I will not go to my grave, accused of ingratitude.  If I'm wrong, you can drug him again later.  Now, quick, get me the antidote!"

"This is insane!  Think of what you're asking me to do, cousin." Aguda stamped his foot.  "Why should I, on your mere suspicion, spare his life then waste more of the precious poison on him?  If we revived him and, he turned out not to be your savior, what then?  You may be willing to let this chance slip away, but I'm not.  Besides, you can see how formidable he looks, even when he's unconscious.  When he comes to, won't he know we've drugged him?  Won't he ask questions, that is, if he doesn't beat us to death first without waiting for any explanation?  Why should I place us all in jeopardy on a mere chance that this was your young man?"

"Listen to papa, Uncle." the three boys broke their silence in unison to give support to their father.

"If he is the young man I met, he would not harm us." Yagu was adamant. 

"I'd stake my life on it.  You're not going to change my mind one bit," he threw a fierce look at the boys, "even with this army of support.  You may all think me unreasonable but, on this, I will stick to my principles.  Besides, we could always talk our way out of it, what's so hard about that?  Leave the explanations to me.”

"Now, give me the antidote at once, before it’s too late!" he barked, his demand.

"And don't try to deceive me and say that it’s already too late, I can tell from his coloring that he can still be saved!” With those words he also put a quick end to Aguda’s poised counter arguments.

Seeing that it was pointless to deter his cousin, Aguda grumbled under his breath,

 "I suppose we could add poison to his meal later on."  Handing the keys of the victim’s room to Yagu, Aguda then rushed off to retrieve the antidote himself.

 Yagu, wasting no time, quickly took charge and had the two older boys Zog and Yaggy carry the still unconscious scholar (Nevetsecnuac) back to his room while the younger boy Kenny went to fetch the scholar’s possessions, that of which Aguda had just dropped in the hall.  The unconscious scholar was then gently placed on the bed.

Zog, the strongest boy, pried open Nevetsecnuac’s mouth just a crack to allow Yagu, who had just received the antidote from Aguda, to pour a generous portion of it down the scholar’s throat.

"Not so much!  A little works just as well, you know."  The infuriated Aguda spent his rage by slapping Zog hard on head, then returned to the kitchen, swiping at the youngest as he passed by.

"Now scarper (get lost, beat it); both of you clear out of here!"  Yagu taking charge, ordered Yaggy and Zog with a wave of his hand.  "He'll be coming around soon.  Close the door behind you; and Zog, do tell your father to keep it quiet out there!" Yagu yelled out specifically so that Aguda could hear, before he leaned back on the chair panting from all that exertion.

                                                                                        

(END OF SECTION 18)