LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – ON THE WAYT TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 22

01- MOUNTED ZUNROGO TUGO  LEAVING THE INN BEHIND

After leaving the Inn area, at first the road (thoroughfare) they journeyed on, thronged with countless travelers from all diverse ethnic and economic backgrounds, coming and going, bearing their goods and materials to and from the outlying provinces of the Empire.  The friendly banter of the merchants mingled with the creak of wheels and clapping of the horse's hooves as they pulled the buggies, carriages and loaded carts towards the Capital.

After quarter of a day’s ride, the ongoing stream gradually thinned out as the main road branched out onto many side roads, leading in all directions to the outlying market towns and farming villages (rural communities) that flanked the thoroughfare as it cut through the vast, fertile plain that provided this section of the province with much of its fresh forage (fodder, foodstuff).

Later, these arteries would again converge, Zunrogo informed Fradel, to swell the main highway which the company was on, as the produce of the region was transported to the insatiable consumers in Channing.

“The travelers would then be intermixed, with idle, vacationing degenerate gentry on pleasure excursions, covert, religious zealots seeking absolution, profligate (wasteful) scholars supposedly there for indulging in nature’s beauty and, countless dissolute court officials with varied political rank, all of them, in desperate need of respite and regeneration… all, with their hidden perverse agendas looking to escape their tedium and discharge their exacerbated angst!” Zunrogo stole Fradel a sly glance and grimaced sourly.

02- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC) AS IMPERIAL GUARD  JP 11

“What, no reaction… What does it take to ruffle those pristine feathers of yours?”

“As I was saying,” Zunrogo dispassionately continued. “These renowned, panoramic topography (scenery), as well, magnificent falls, hot springs, naturally fostered countless, leisure, recreational facilities. They had mushroomed, (built up) within just last decade, to perpetuate more currency, funds needed for military expeditions and more. Strangely enough, from these supposed places of refuge…all the while, the secretly sanctioned criminal elements…”

"Look, Captain!  Look!" The urgency in Frastos' voice and his pointing finger suddenly just then drew their attention to the far distant spot, where the Inn had been.  All heads turned to see the coiling, black smoke billowing up and darkening the sky.  Briac's face fell as a cold shudder passed through him.

"I wonder how it got started."  The adolescent boy's naive query drew the other traveler’s attention.

"Keep on walking; it’s none of our business!" The stern voice of an elderly man scolded the youth as he passed a fearful eye over the surrounding sea of curious faces.

Some had put their heads together to whisper then, eyes glued to the fire, shook their heads in apprehension and dismay.  Others showed fleeting signs of outrage or anger before a habitual resignation registered on their features.

 In all the spectators’ pupils (eyes) registered the akin caution, as the common sense of the old man's words rang true.  None of them could afford to get involved in the messy investigation, the ugly conspiracy or the legal entanglements that would certainly ensue.

Subsequently ditching their curiosity, with lowered heads, the majority hastened (picked up) their pace, whipping up their horses and steering their carts ahead, as most were anxious to spread as much distance as possible between themselves and the disaster.

The unfortunate few grave-faced travelers, who were headed towards the fire, purposefully dawdled, dug in their heels, and malingered to reduce their speed.

03- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC ) GAZES FURIOUSLY AT THE CAPTAIN JP 38

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) threw a furious look at Captain Zunrogo, with clear implication (as if to say), “I know you are behind this catastrophe.”

 Zunrogo plainly ignored this, however, and finding the varied responses of the travelers rather, most amusing, grinned sadistically and cruelly. Moreover, not wishing for another unnecessary confrontation with this upstart, righteous and irate scholar, deliberately ignored Fradel's continued, cold, admonishing glare, and just spurred his horse on ahead.

They traveled at this faster pace until dusk. Briac was somewhat comforted to be riding amid a protective semicircle; flanked by Frastos and Fradel Rurik Korvald on either side, while the captain rode in the lead.  He knew that, if he was hemmed in on all three sides and there were other travelers sharing the road, there would be a serious deterrent to any would be assassination attempt.  He coolly reminded himself that he would be a far easier target at any of the Inns they might be staying at, or if he strayed from the group. 

Just as Briac’s taut nerves were starting to loosen, a single arrow, of unknown origin, whistled through the air, grazed Frastos’'s ear, and lodged itself in Briac's high scholar's cap.

"What in the world?  Oh no!"  In his fright, drenched in sudden sweat, Briac nearly fell from his horse.  Only a quick reaction by Fradel Rurik Korvald steadied him in the saddle again.

Shaking like a leaf, he did not thank Fradel but cursed his dire predicament and considered how he could best break free of what seemed now to be a tight cordon of death trap and make good his escape. Quickly Briac decided on the best recourse left open to him and he purposefully reared the mare.  His hand next, grasped at the wig to tear it from his head (scalp) and same time his mouth opened wide to shout out loud his vehement denial and declaration: that he was but an imposter and not the cursed Fradel Rurik Korvald.  His eye just then however, catching (noticing) the captain's ephemeral, lethal, hard glare, Briac’s hand (on the wig), as well the words at the tip of his tongue, abruptly stayed (froze, came to a dead stop).

Zunrogo, obviously disappointed, grimaced wryly and sheathed his sword. He then turned and looked away in the far direction; where which just then, the solitary figure of Tizan had appeared from behind a rising hilltop and began swiftly descending towards them.

“So, this was your handy work.” Briac inwardly scoffed. “You couldn’t resist, yet again, to taunt me.”

The captain was more concerned how Tizan had managed to catch up to them so quickly and, meeting Tizan halfway, at once interrogated the Lieutenant.

"I took the short cut through Yennicroc pass." Tizan smirked (grinned) and shrugged his shoulders.

04- TZAN JP

Considering the nature of the treacherous terrain, the captain was impressed and nodded his approval.  "Still, I see you are none the worst, for wear."

Still grinning, Tizan threw a scornful look at Briac.  "You mistake me again, sir, for his likes."  His eyes filled with loathing as he indicated the pale impostor (Briac) with his chin.

Tizan’s words struck a raw nerve in Briac, and it was only with great difficulty that he forced some constraint on his seething rage. Gritting his teeth, Briac pulled out (grasped) the arrow that had lodged firmly in scholar’s cap, snapped it in two and disdainfully threw it to the ground.

The empty threat implicit in Briac's action greatly amused Tizan, who threw his head back and laughed uproariously.  Briac was about to say something more provocative to infuriate Tizan when Zunrogo interceded.

"Tizan, you and Fradel Rurik Korvald have not been properly introduced.  May I introduce you, sir, to my Lieutenant, Tizan Lout."

"We have already met." Fradel grimaced, returning Tizan's polite nod.

"Why, of course you have," the captain smiled, recalling the brief episode back at the Inn, when Fradel Rurik Korvald had raised difficulties with his first accommodation (alloted, assigned room).

As they talked, Tizan's eloquent tongue and pseudo fine mannerisms, affected solely for the sake of impressing the captain, grated on Briac's nerves.

Scoffing at this sycophantic (fawning) spectacle, he rode the mare on ahead, temporarily forgetting the constant danger to him.  When the Captain and Tizan took the lead, he fell back to sulk in the center of the group once again.

"Any unforeseen problems," Zunrogo suddenly questioned Tizan.

"None, Captain…As always none." Tizan answered smartly then, unhindered by the least shred of conscience, looked away, smiling smugly. Tizan had no way of knowing of course that he had been properly duped, as his malign plans were aptly undermined by the intrepid Kozur affiliates who had a (monopoly) personal stake in that region.

                                                                                    ~

After a restful night's stay at a roadside Inn, Briac awoke at cock's crow to another nasty shock.  Finding the scalp to be uncomfortably hot, he had taken it off before retiring and laid it on the night table, yet now it rested squarely atop his head once more.  Worse still, when he went to remove it to wash his face and scalp, for it itched terribly; he discovered that it was permanently fastened somehow to his own skin.

"What's wrong?" Frastos, who had just finished washing his own face and dressed already, noting the frustrated anger and dismay on Briac's face, asked.

05-FRASTOS - JP 17

"It won't come off.  It won't budge."  Briac tugged once more at the hair.

"Stop fooling around," Frastos came over and brusquely yanked the wig not expecting to find any resistance.

"Aiyhhh," Briac screamed in pain.  "What are you trying to do, scalp me?"

"You mean it’s for real?  That's impossible!"  Frastos' words were barely spoken when Tizan knocked and immediately stepped in.

"What?  You two aren't dressed yet?  You'll have to forfeit your breakfast then.  The captain wants both of you downstairs, immediately.  We're ready to leave.  Now!" he bellowed at them and turned to go.

Briac nimbly rushed to block his way.  "Are you responsible for this?" he pointed to the wig.

"What about it?" Tizan glared.  "It’s done in accordance with the captain's orders.  Do you want to make something of it?"

Briac inwardly dismayed, backed away from the challenge.  "Why?" A complaintive whimper escaped his lips, before he could stop it.

"You need to ask?" Tizan scoffed, his cold eyes pinned on Briac.  "He saw the stunt you almost pulled when my arrow pierced your cap.  Well, it’s to prevent you from repeating it again, and to keep you from disobeying orders.  Count yourself lucky you were spared from harsher reprimand.  I would not have been so lenient if I had been in charge."

“Well, thank Heaven you're not.” Frastos inwardly scoffed.

Frastos blanched and lowered his head, catching the hostile glower from Tizan (as if latter had read his thought), just as the lieutenant was exiting the room.

"Don't worry," Tizan ejected coldly, as he rushed his steps down the hallway, "the adhesive will wear off in a month or so."  He grinned venomously as he turned and headed down the stairs.  "That is, if you live that long."

 

                                                                                   ~

 

When the group stayed at an Inn on the outskirts of town for the night, Briac, in his (masquerading) pseudo role of a scholar found, the special treatment by the manager and help that his new status begets, very much to his liking.  Moreover, he was now a magnet to delightful ladies and gentry and taking advantage of this boon, shamelessly indulged in heavy drinking and licentious behavior long after Tizan, Fradel Rurik Korvald and Zunrogo had retired to their respective rooms.

When eventually Briac took his favorite up to their room, Frastos as his assigned bodyguard, with his back to them, was forced to be privy to all Briac’s passionate moaning and grunts, as he pawed her; hence, this adding smoldering jealousy to Frastos’s mounting list of resentments. But as the night progressed, despite his conscientious effort of vigilance (alertness), the hard days ride taking its toll, Frastos’s eyelids dropped, and he very nearly drifted off to sleep.

The beauty Briac was still shamelessly fondling chose this precise moment, to whisper a suggestion into his ear.  Finding this most agreeable, Briac rose to his feet and abruptly announced to Frastos, shocking him into full wakefulness (alertness), that he would retire now and that, temporarily, the guard's services would not be needed.

This subtly instructed Frastos, “to give him (Briac) a few hours ‘leeway to complete his amorous business, before Frastos returned to their shared room.”

“Why should I?”  Frastos was of half a mind to make things difficult for the impostor scholar but, on second thought relenting, shrugged his shoulders and rose.

His hand was about to turn the nob of the door, when, "What audacity!" he, with his back to them, heard her exclaim indignantly in her amorous voice.  "He should be reprimanded, if not punished, for such rudeness."

06- BEAUTY SEDUCING  BRIAC

Frastos could only guess at the lies Briac whispered behind him, as the latter (Briac) quietly sipped his drink.  In fact, Frastos was hoping for the slightest provocation, having had enough, to put Briac in his proper place.

Halting his grasp, “Go on, I dare you to reprimand me!” he hissed and then half turning his head, he glared at Briac.

He waited but since no such castigation (rebuke) happened; disappointed, he simply shook his head and quickly darted outside.

He did not stray too far from the door, musing, “Where am I supposed to go in this ungodly hour?”

"Oh, how sweet, how tolerant you are," he heard the woman's beguiling voice inside the room say, instead, as it drifted to pleasurable chuckles and moans (groan). 

"Oh, can't you be patient?" the muted whining came next, and the subsequent giggling.  "Oh, you are way too shameless!"

Then he heard Briac, with his heavy footing walking up to fasten the lock on the door.

“You got to be kidding me.” Frastos moaned.

"Oh, you mustn't do that.  Please leave the door unlocked."  The seductive intonation of her voice lured Briac into complying with her wishes. Or maybe Briac thought better of it, mindful of the possible repercussions from the captain, for disobeying orders.

“What a complete, utter fool you are.” Frastos shook his head with scorn. Totally disgusted at the outside, he quickened his steps to walk away and to spread as much distance as he could between him and this contemptible moron.

 Briac, on the inside, had waited and listened by the door till he was assured that Frastos, in quick succession, had descended those steps at the end of the hallway.

“He’s finally gone.” He turned, only to find her reclining provocatively on his bed, beckoning him to come into her embrace.

Grinning from ear to ear, like a hungry beast about to pounce on his prey, Briac rushed across the room and flung his body clumsily atop her, only to grasp the pillow instead as she agilely shifted to the other side.

 His loins were on fire.  "Come to me, my sweet dove.  I promise to be gentle." he purred as he leaned forward to hold her in a tight, passionate embrace.

"Is that any way for a gentleman to behave?  Oh, you are so strong you take my breath away."  She pushed him away coyly to fall back seductively among the heap of embroidered, plush cushions.

A log splitting in the fire, momentarily took his attention away.  He turned back to gently admonish her, "You mustn't toy with my affections."

07 - BEAUTIY (OR THE ASSASSIN)

The words, however, simply froze on his lips and his eyes widened with sudden fear.  In that scant lighting, in her hand, a dagger’s blade had flashed (catching the light of the lit candles) and the next instant, she launched it targeting his heart with murderous intent.

He was a seasoned soldier so at lightning speed he first swerved to avoid her deadly strike then lurched forward, his hand intending to grasp her wrist, to gain control of the dagger. Nevertheless, escaping his grasp, she, with one fluid motion jumped off the bed and then turned to, unafraid, squarely, still seductively, gaze at him.

“Was she merely toying with me?” Briac queried inwardly, as he noted the clear absence of malice and no implicit threat in those crystal, clear blue eyes of hers.

She, with unreadable emotion, meanwhile, unwarily gazed at him for a spell, seemingly assessing his next move, then simply let the dagger drop to the floor; after which, nimble as a cat, darted out the door.

 

(END OF SECTION 22)

 

                                                                                                   ~

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL- SECTION 9

After two- and one-half days of riding, the stony, dirt path converged with the old main road that had long ago been supplanted by another, wider and more level one.

This other thoroughfare (artery) cut straight through the bustling towns and thriving villages that had seemingly sprung up almost overnight beside it.

 Striving to compensate for lost time, and since the opportunity of a long, uninterrupted stretch up ahead availed itself, Nevetsecnuac spurred his mount into a full gallop and they rode like the wind all day long, the mare's hooves barely skimming the surface of the road.  Only when dusk fell did they stop for rest and nourishment.  Leaving the road at a suitable spot, Nevetsecnuac was about to dismount when his keen eyes suddenly spotted a thin trail of coiling smoke to the west, beyond a nearby hill.

01- NEVETSECNUAC

“Could it be Zonar?  No.”  Nevetsecnuac shook his head, grimacing wryly.  That's hardly his style.

“Perhaps it’s bandits…  Well, there's only one way to find out.”  He nodded, having already decided to reconnoiter and find its source.  After tethering his mount to the largest tree in a secure spot that offered lush, green grass for grazing, Nevetsecnuac swiftly crested the hill and, advancing stealthily, made a beeline for the activity.

He ducked just in time, spotting two armed sentinels off to the side, beyond the second rise.  Deciding to investigate them first, he changed course and, hugging the ground, crept swiftly but quietly towards them.

When he was still some distance away, however, the ground beneath his feet suddenly gave way and he plunged into a deep, dark hole.  Despite the howling winds, the more alert sentinel at once stood up erect, throwing aside the dried meat he was disdainfully chewing.  With his right hand poised at his sword's hilt he turned and looked intently, directly at where Nevetsecnuac had been trapped.

"What is it, Deizvor?" Nevetsecnuac heard a winded voice demanding as he hastened after the other who was fast approaching where Nevetsecnuac was.

"I thought I heard some noise coming from this direction, Jonnath," Deizvor answered brashly.

Nevetsecnuac had not let out even a whimper in his surprise fall.  Lying on his back, slightly winded, listening to the warnings from his sixth sense, he remained perfectly still and considered his options.  The approaching footsteps were now sounding dangerously close.

"You must be out of your mind.  How can you hear anything in this wind?  Come on, be reasonable."  Jonnath, grasping the other's arm, held him back only a few paces from the edge of the hole.

"We should get back quick." he then warned.  "We've left the post unguarded.  We'll be in a terrible fix if our absence is noted."

"I did hear something suspicious, like someone falling in, almost like a cave-in." Deizvor responded indignantly, angered by the other's skepticism.

02 THE SENTRY - JONATH AND DEIZVOR

 "Anyhow, no one asked you to tag along.  Go back if you're so worried about your hide; as if he's going to show up now; if at all!"  Deizvor barked, "I said get back!  I'll be there summarily, after I first make a cursory inspection of this area."

"Why are you always so brash, so quick to fly off the handle?  I'm just as bored as you, but you can't invent trouble where there is none.  What you heard was, in all probability, some scared scavenging mammal or a rodent fleeing to safety."  Jonnath stood his ground.

 "Besides, must I warn you of the prevalent dangers?  Do you wish to fall into one of the pitfalls that abound here?  It’s precarious enough to scour this ground in daylight, let alone at night.  Our duty lies strictly in watching the road and guarding Cyprecox Pass, nothing else."  Seeing this failed to persuade Deizvor, he turned his back to him in exasperation, "Go ahead then!  Have it your way."  Jonnath’s voice trailed into the distance.

"I have this strong hunch." Deizvor stamped his foot, vacillating.

"I know I'm on the verge of something.  I sense it with every fiber of my being.  Hmm, oh well.  Jonnath’s probably right.  I am bored out of my skull, but I would have welcomed an encounter with a predatory beast, even a ghost or goblin.  Anything, anything is better than this interminable waiting."  Still grumbling, Deizvor reluctantly withdrew from the edge of the pit and followed Jonnath’s footsteps into the distance.

“They're gone at last! “Sitting bolt upright, Nevetsecnuac brushed aside the slimy worms and maggots that had, all this while, crawled over his face, through his hair and on his chest and legs.

 Straining his eyes to see in the scant light, he glanced around him.  “Is this construction man-made?”  Evidently it was, for the ground on which he sat was tamped hard.  Rocks and pieces of broken pottery protruded from the soil and pieces of rotted beams with sharp edges and spikes littered the ground.  Testifying to the depth of the hole, the air was suffocating, dense and smelled nauseatingly foul.

By rights, his fall should have been more detrimental but, using his martial training, Nevetsecnuac had broken the impact of the fall and had escaped serious injury.  Rising to his feet, he reached out his hands and began to carefully poke and pry the jutting sides.

 Some insects, crawling slimy worms and hairy bugs scuttled away from his probing hands.  Oddly, his hands detected a corroded metal jug that deposited a strangely familiar smell on his fingers, which he, identifying it, immediately wiped it off onto his trouser cuff.

 Then as he continued with his probing, what he had dreaded most came true; for his hand just then rested abruptly on a group of human skulls and bones clustered in the far corner.

“This was clearly not a burial plot, which meant that these unfortunate souls, judging from the way the bones were arrayed and other pertinent clues, were buried alive and left here to suffer a prolonged, lingering death.  What kind of crime had they committed that warranted this cruel punishment?  Had they succumbed to treachery?  Were they loyalists?  Stripped of all clothing and other personal belongings, the mystery surrounding their death and their identification would remain unresolved indefinitely.”  

More intriguing still, was the discovery a bit later, of a solitary skeleton crouched in a small hollow across from the main group.  This one had parts of his legs missing and, upon scrutiny, Nevetsecnuac found that the shin bone had been severed sharply at the ankle and, worse still, that the bones of the hand had been crushed so severely that they crumbled to dust at the merest touch.

Nevetsecnuac's face creased into a frown of intense concentration.  “Why had this one been so brutally mutilated?  Why had he suffered so much worse?  Oh, if only the dead could speak!”

03- NEVETS IN THE DARK PIT

 No sooner had this wistful thought crossed his mind than, suddenly, the corpse's jaw broke off and from inside the cavity a strange, cold object fell squarely into Nevetsecnuac's palm.  A bit spooked, Nevetsecnuac examined it with care.  It felt like a jewel laden miniature key of some sort.

“All right,” Nevetsecnuac nodded, “if it’s within my power, I'll certainly do all I can to vindicate you, sir.”  He placed the key into his inner pocket for safekeeping then, mindful of the limited time he had in which to free himself, returned his attention to more immediate concerns.

                                                                                       ~

 

(END OF SECTION 9)