LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 14

                                                 

At the end of another typical, lengthy day’s arduous riding, nearing dusk when they spotted an old, clearly abandoned farmhouse which was precariously perched on a hillside, Uyuk, quickly suggested, "It's badly dilapidated, but there is still enough of it left to shelter us from this bone-chilling gale. I for one, would like to spend the night there."

"It’s an apt place for a trap."  Hugen simply grunted (grumbled).

01- UYUK  (6)JP

“Highly unlikely," Uyuk insistently rebuffed Hugen; his aching body demanding an immediate reprieve.” This desolate area is clearly forsaken by both man and beast.”

"Not in this instance." Hugen shook his head.  But Uyuk, being too exhausted to bother listing his reasons or heeding Hugen’s counter arguments, very much in need of respite had adamantly this time (unrelenting), spurred his horse towards it.  Though it went against his better judgment, Hugen after shrug, reluctantly followed Uyuk.

Once inside, they quickly cleared the debris off to one side and, relaxing their vigil slightly for the first time, they settled down cross-legged in the least drafty spot on the floor to talk freely, something they had not been able to do (for several days) until then.  They even allowed themselves the liberty of broaching the contents of a large jug of country wine they had purchased five days back at an obscure border town.  Time sped quickly and presently they were very mellowed by the quantity of strong spirits they had consumed.  When Hugen drunk extensively, whether inebriated or not, he would uncharacteristically, become placid (tranquil) and quite sentimental; this time being no different, switching effortlessly between dialects, he began to reminisce about the past in general and his own childhood.

"Ah, that cursed day!  I was barely eight, but even then, I understood only too well the calamity that befell us, the panic that suffocated the air to saturation point, making everyone wild with worry.  Yes, I can remember it all too vividly, like it happened only yesterday; the misbegotten day when our brave soldiers, no match for the barbaric offensive launched by Field Marshall Zakhertan Yozdek, were routed at the battle of Nozurk.  Our noble King, Anguan Binchan, forced to flee the Capital with only nine thousand men and withdraw to the wilderness of Zujug."

"I was much younger, and my recollection of that time is not as clear as yours," Uyuk nodded, leaning forward to place a sympathetic hand on Hugen's shoulder, "but I understand that the second offensive that was fought in Zujug was even more brutal."

"Brutal; aye that it was!" Hugen shuddered and met Uyuk's keen gaze.  “It boggles the mind to think that any human beings can inflict such horrors on others of same species!  We could have never anticipated (imagined) the scope of genocide the army of Zakhertan Yozdek’s could inflict on hapless civilians, defenceless women and children, all without mercy, falling like ripe stalks of grain under his scything."  Hugen clenched his fists as the fires of indignation filled his veins. 

02- - HUGEN (26)jp

"You may expect more mercy from the uncivilized barbarians at the north, not the disciplined army of Wenjenkun." He shook his head.

"I still shiver and get chilled to my very marrow when I think of the atrocities, they committed, the rapes, the tortures, the pillage. I can still hear the anguished cries of the old men, the women and children, the wailing of babies thrown into the street to be trampled on by the horse's hooves.” Biting his lip, Hugen fell silent for a moment.

“The terrible sound still rings in my ears and haunts my dreams even to this very day!"  Hugen repetitively wrung his hands and nodded as he, in his mind’s eye relived the massacre over and over.

"Orphaned at an early age, I was, placed in the care of my maternal aunt.  Loujan was her name.  She was a rare, kindly soul.  She was quite beautiful, too beautiful in fact.  Childless herself, she loved all children, and myself especially, reared me like I was her very own.  And yes, I reciprocated her motherly love and loved her as a devoted son."  There was a drunken conviction in Hugen's voice as he tapped at his chest, "I loved her, all right, to the very marrow of my being."

"At least you've known that kind of love." Uyuk huffed, as he studied Hugen.

After a painful silence Hugen then looked up, his face creased with sorrow as his eyes once more met Uyuk's.  "You know she sacrificed her life to save me?  She was the one who concealed me, told me to stay put, come what may, as she brazened it out with those savage, villainous curs."  Hugen shook his head then placed both hands on his ears to drown out her bone chilling shrieks as she was viciously mauled.  "That day," he hissed, his voice distorted in rage, "something within me died along with her.  I could never be the same again."

"We all live for vengeance." Uyuk morosely concurred.

Hugen stared at him with narrowed eyes, not seeming to comprehend for a moment, and then nodded with understanding.  "We all have our own private hells that we carry within us."  His eyes brimmed with compassion.

"And what became of your uncle?  Or perhaps I shouldn’t presume to ask." Uyuk hastily probed, sensing the question forming on the other's tongue.

03- UYUK  (7)JP

 Uyuk quickly then passed the wine, diverting Hugen from inquiring too deeply into his own, dark past.

The utterance died with Hugen's shrug as he raised the jug to his lips and took several large mouthfuls.  His sleeve absorbed the overflow from his chin.  "He was killed at the ramparts, like the countless others who defended the besieged city.  Don't ask about the particulars.  After I came out of hiding, I recognized his partially charred, mutilated corpse in one of the piles outside the walls.  Wild dogs were scavenging his… tearing at the…"  Hugen stopped to take a shuddering breath; he forced two hard swallows to keep the bile from rising back up and then thrust the jug violently back into Uyuk’s hand.    Clutching his belly, he rubbed the muscles as he tried to erase the gruesome images from his mind.

"I heard that the ancient city Romkun, before Zakhertan Yozdek razed it, was a marvel to behold." Uyuk hastily interjected to draw Hugen out of his self-destructive absorption. 

Uyuk needed to know these things, and this was a rare opportunity he was determined not to pass up.   "More spectacular than any other city in the world, I understand." He further prodded.

"It certainly was." Hugen finally affirmed, grateful for the chance to be composed.  "You cannot imagine a more magnificent place.  The ingenious construction alone, stones fitted together without mortar, was a sure testament to our culture's greatness; more spectacular were the fountains, exquisite gardens with their variety of rare plants and flowers of all kinds, populated by colourful pullets that are now, unfortunately quite extinct. The sculpted reliefs on the stone bridges, the monumental buildings and belltowers with their golden cupolas in the clouds…  It was a paradise, I tell you, paradise!"

"It sounds magical, like no place on Earth." Uyuk nodded thoughtfully.

"Nothing comparable," Hugen confirmed, fires of memory blazing in his eyes.

"You are fortunate to have seen it."  In a brief afterthought, Uyuk pursed his lips and thought, but then, again, you have also endured the pain of having lost it all.”

"Oh, and the greatest library of all times," Hugen’s pupils flared as he suddenly recalled, “a magnificent structure several stories high it was, perched on a hill; thousand marble steps led up to the imposing carved ebony and iron door, flanked by giant, fearsome statues of mystical door gods. inside were the tall chambers and magnificent marble halls, illuminated with  crystal chandeliers that hung from high ceilings; walls decked with ancient paintings, tall tapestries with historical royal insignias (emblems, crests, badges) beside obsidian columns; and more importantly, wall to wall rosewood bookshelves, row upon row,  preserving stacks and stacks of irreplaceable scrolls, the accumulated volumes of the sages, world renowned works of the scholars and kings of bygone days and the amassed records of all religious doctrines.” Hugen, highly agitated now, chewed the corner of his lip.

A deep gasp and a longing sigh escaped Uyuk, as he with his imagination, envisioned the magnificent library in the ancient city of Romkun which unfortunately was now forever lost to posterity.

04- - ANCIENT  CITY ROMKUN,  IN KORION(52)jp

“Centuries of records, all incinerated, reduced to ashes and dust in the blink of an eye.” Hugen disregarding Uyuk, sullenly (morosely) lowered his head. “Though the city and the library have been rebuilt since, it can never measure up to its old glory."  Hugen looked away and grimly shook his head.  "How could it happen?  The ancient relics, the remarkable edifices are all gone for good.  Future generations are eternally cheated (deprived) from all that wealth of experience. Zakhertan Yozdek maliciously stripped (robbed) our land of its heritage and wickedly stole our glorious past.  There can be no greater sacrilege than that!  Damn him!  Damn him and his barbaric legions all to Hell!"  Seething in anger, Hugen pounded his bare fist on the wall, and then quickly drew it back as part of the decayed brickwork crumbled outwards to let the frigid night wind rush in.

"Hold on there, before you pull this hovel down around our ears." Uyuk hastened to calm him.  "We still have to spend the night here you know; and I don't relish the idea of sleeping in a drafty place and have my body whipped by those furious blasts of gale winds."  In a plaintive voice Uyuk grumbled, "I wish you'd learn to restrain that destructive temper of yours.  Or is this another devious means to force us to sleep outside?"  He winced (scowled) and thrust the jug back into Hugen's hand to curb the other’s pending angry retort.

Hugen was rather fond of wine, and Uyuk knew this.  What's more, he encouraged it.  Still, he was yet to see Hugen totally inebriated.  Unlike ordinary men, Hugen went through the first stages of intoxication like he was now but then, as he continued to consume more, he would gradually regain his senses and in a bizarre (twist) inverse state be, completely sober.  This inexplicable phenomenon intrigued, and at the same time challenged Uyuk's logical, scientific sensibility; and so, yet again he strove to alter the typical (usual) outcome.

A gust of wind just then blew the shutter back from the boarded-over window, letting in a (tongue of) lashing chilling wind.  Observing Uyuk's involuntary shiver, Hugen roared with laughter, slapping his thigh then reaching again for the jug to gulp more wine.  Just as Uyuk continued to test his capacity for spirits, Hugen enjoyed driving his partner's stamina to the edge of endurance.  "You are getting too soft in your old age." He snorted and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.  "Perhaps you should quit this line of work, find yourself a simpleton wife and stay in your farm, using your energies, to copulate.”

“Ha, ha!  I can see it now: a dozen half-naked brats, each one with your ugly face, crawling, squealing about the straw floor of your hovel!"  Hugen gave a mock shiver, "What a sight…… haa, ha!"

This time Uyuk could barely constrain his angry retort.  In the past it would have taken much less than this to cause him to fly off the handle, but it would hinder his (purpose) experiment if he were to now launch (initiate) a row.  Instead, he let Hugen's foul mouth run amok.  Gradually Hugen simmered down, having failed to provoke a fight.  Then he grew silent, and his eyelids dropped.

"So, what happened after your daring escape?"  Uyuk reached forward and put his hand on Hugen's shoulder.

"Daring escape?" Hugen shrugged off the hand with annoyance, but the jerking motion was too much for him.  He swayed, and his head began to swim.  Steadying himself against a pillar, he laughed wryly.  "Daring escape, indeed; but, for an eight-year-old I suppose it was." he shrugged.

"Well once clear of the city gates, I ran and ran, trying to get as fast and as far away, from it all. It was grim, I tell you.  There were still some pockets of residual fighting, death and destruction still going on, so during my flight I strove to be invisible.  But however far I ran, endlessly, the akin cruel vistas (scenes) stretched out before me: the maimed, mutilated, disemboweled, and contorted corpses lay about, littering the grounds like streamers after a parade had passed.  The earth was drenched in rivulets of dark crimson blood.  I don't know how many corpses I’d stumbled over during my flight…  And that stench!  The sickening stench was unbearable." Hugen swallowed hard and shuddered.

05- CARNAGE AT END OF WAR

"Eventually I was picked up by a scout and brought before His Highness' presence to give my account.  I did not hold back anything.  I related every gruesome detail, every ghastly event my young eyes had seen.  The act of putting it into words seemed to purge (cleanse) my heart and I told it all.  Later on, my report was corroborated by those few who’d been lucky enough to have escaped this ferocious persecution.  I can still remember the details of that day; this I came to know later still, how His Highness upon hearing the same horrific tales told by different individuals about their loved ones, had in private, shed copious tears over those profuse tragic losses.  He’d resolved right there and then, to resist Zakhertan Yozdek, 'that vindictive upstart', he'd called him, to the bitter end."

"But that didn't happen.  I mean, how could he resist?" Uyuk hastily interjected.

"Ignorant fool," Hugen fumed. "You presume too much!  Things are never what they seem.  I was there; I paid witness to it all.  I'll tell you what (actually) happened, how the great disaster was averted, albeit only temporarily.”

“Fortunately, the Minister of the Interior, Keko Wushing, had been so impressed by my determination and bearing before His Highness that, he took me under his wing.  I became an adopted son to him, unofficially, of course.  But then I digress” Hugen paused to relieve his parched throat and, from the corner of his eye, scrutinized Uyuk.

 “Why this sudden curiosity about past events (history); it surely cannot be merely to relieve the boredom of the night.  What do you hope to gain by all of this?  What dire motives do you harbor?”

Theirs was a strange and strained relationship at best.  Before undertaking the journey to Wenjenkun, Hugen had Uyuk completely checked out to confirm his reliability.  He cared little for the long, unblemished official record; he wanted his own facts, his own affirmation about the man himself.  Typically, his own sources had been more thorough than the Department's and had soon uncovered all there was to know about Uyuk, for instance, fact that he was born in Wenjenkun as Enkaz Dufo, and much more.  He saw no reason to dispose of agent Uyuk for his duplicity since his many talents, if properly handled, could still render valuable service to Korion (their nation).  He had argued this case, in fact, with the Department-head Nein Rejon, the only other operative to be let in on the secret and, eventually secured (won) his permission, in allowing Uyuk to carry on as before.

06-DEPARTMENT -HEAD NEIN REJON (2)

His superior Nein Rejon had conceded that Uyuk's rare talents and resourcefulness in those areas where it counted the most could not be underestimated and had therefore given Hugen full permission to use him. Additionally, Hugen had been entrusted with the responsibility of ensuring that Uyuk did not defect and, if that were to happen, he was further tasked with the responsibility of taking swift and decisive measures to limit the damage.  Hugen was to terminate the problem the instant before it occurred.  Hugen had noted then in Rejon's cold, blue eyes that extreme prejudice, and had understood that instant, how now that Uyuk's birthplace was known to the department, Uyuk from then on would have to overcome great obstacles just to maintain his present position.  He would always be considered an expendable outsider and one of the first to be a suspect, no matter how much he’d proven his worth and no matter the measure of his accrued successes.  In a way Hugen had almost pitied Uyuk but quickly hardened his heart and replaced it instead, with absolute impartiality (detachment) for in his line of work he could not well afford the luxury of attachments or emotions.  This was why Hugen had no close friends to speak of no family through which he could be undermined or wounded.  He had absolutely no special being, no vulnerability outside of his cold, formal working relationships.  Fiercely loyal, he lived and breathed only for the welfare of Korion, and one day he expected to forfeit his life for his Monarch as well. His thoughts once more reverted to Uyuk and he narrowed his eyes as he considered how, during (the course of) this mission he had succeeded in gradually worming his way deeper and deeper into Uyuk's confidence, all done with utmost care and cunning so as not to arouse Uyuk's suspicious nature.

Hugen had played right along, tolerating Uyuks’ eccentricities, it being sufficient to exploit Uyuk's stored up resentment, his prejudices and burning desire for vengeance; he’d also allowed Uyuk to believe that he was pretty much in control of his own destiny and that his most ambitious goal was indeed attainable in the not-too-distant future. Uyuk’s self-confidence was further bolstered as he firmly believed that he was the one tugging at the strings in this affiliation, instead of in fact being the one who was being underhandedly manipulated and toyed; till that is, the inevitable, ultimate lethal outcome to his existence. Uyuk being deemed a nuisance and an arrogant fool, putting up with him had not been by any means easy for Hugen, but so long as Uyuk remained above board, Hugen restrained his fury and remained equitable and deferred exterminating the annoying pest from Wenjenkun. Hugen knew, in the months ahead, Uyuk would be undertaking many other such perilous missions now that he’d been deemed expendable, and in most instances, he would be paired up with Hugen.  In time he would come to rely heavily and trust absolutely the partner who, always, held his life on a balance in his hand.

“How ironic…” Hugen looked down.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 14)

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

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

01- LOOKING AT THE WOODS

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

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

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

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

02-WOODSMAN 2

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

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

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

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

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

03- NEVETSECNUAC THE HUNTER 14- JP

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

04- WOODSMAN

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

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

                                                                         ~

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

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

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

 Nevetsecnuac nodded, thus resolved to follow that good counsel.

05- NEVETS ON HORSEBACK

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

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

                                                                            ~

 

(END OF SECTION 16)

 

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 14

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 14

 

After Magistrate Yakove Zewe’s departure, Judicial Commissioner Birgergu Gunt had ridden his closed carriage at breakneck speed to the residence of his good friend the Provincial Governor Rexi, in order to submit a report.  On his arrival, however, he was informed that the Governor was away on a short pleasure trip and was expected to return in a fortnight.  After leaving a message with Rexi's trusted aide, Birgergu returned home not in the least bit ruffled by the distant smoke and the glow of the fire on the horizon; subsequently, he entered his study in order to manage some pertinent neglected matters. First, removing a specific document from his locked cabinet, he placed it under the lamplight and perused it carefully searching for key correlations (crucial parallels, any links) or discrepancies between its account of facts and the detailed report of the Magistrate’s.

All was in accord, save for one: the glowing description of the stranger's horse remarkably resembled Yakove's account of Fradel Rurik Korvald's mount.

 It could very well be a coincidence. This gave Birgergu no concern as, shrugging his shoulders slightly; he put the reports aside and picked up another document from the pile for examination. Despite his outward calm, however, he was inwardly fuming over the failure of the bandit's attack on Fradel, which now complicated matters greatly.  He frowned, thinking of the berating he would get from the hot-tempered Governor, and then his thoughts reverted to Fradel's letter.  Dropping everything, he rang for his trusted steward and verbally relayed his wishes to him.

That night a cloaked figure quietly stole through the darkened alleyways to rendezvous with another whom, scaling the city wall with a cat's agility, vaulted onto a waiting horse and galloped into the hills.

At dawn the next day Birgergu's trusted aide handed him a packet.  After examining the contents in his study, Birgergu donned (gave) a wry smile and cast both the letter and its wrapping into the fire.  A short time later the aide returned with an urgent message from the Governor and Birgergu made haste to respond to the summons.

                                                                                   ~

  "I don't want to know anything about it!" the Governor Rexi raged at Birgergu with icy finality.  "Just get it done!"

"It has already been taken care of, Your Excellency." Birgergu assured him.

"Then why do you bother me with this?"  Rexi shoved (thrust) the report in Birgergu's face. 

"I have no time for such trifles.  You are dismissed."  Before the Commissioner of Justice could even respond Rexi turned his back on him and stormed out of the anteroom.

 "I'm surrounded by incompetents.” His voice trailed off as he began to muse: 

How can I ever gain favor with His Excellency (Eunuch) Egil Viggoaries when a simple matter like this cannot even be resolved.  That idiot Birgergu assured me of Fradel Rurik Korvald's demise; that he would disappear without a trace.  He's as incompetent as that doltish brother-in-law of his.  They've both managed to botch things up oh, so perfectly!  I should have taken the matter into my own hands from the outset, instead of relying on that idiot.

His steps had led him into his private chambers.  Entering in a huff, he sank his heavy frame down on the couch.  Seeing his foul mood, the servants all kept their distance, all but hiding in the corners.

Seething in anger, Rexi reflected on the origins of the Eunuch's orders, the ongoing struggle between Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and the Minister of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries, as each vied (contended) for significant clout (portion of power) at Imperial Court.  Viggoaries's latest attempt to undermine Lamont's inroads with the emperor’s favorite concubine, Lady Sejon, had led to the confidential word sent to him to oversee the Eunuch's interest in the matter of the Lady's favorite poet, Fradel Rurik Korvald.

 Rexi still remembered his delight at accepting the task and his assurances of prompt, favorable results.  Angrily he stamped his foot to purge his mind of the ugly, stubborn trepidation (foreboding) of the possibility of dud (failure), but the persistent, gnawing doubt and the consequences of a repetition of Birgergu's inability (incompetence) to set right what, by now, had gone so terribly wrong, so terrified him that all the blood drained from his face.  A cold shiver ran down Rexi’s spine, as his mind viciously fixed on the notorious reputation of Egil Viggories’s brutish intolerance of the least flop (failure). Springing to his feet, his brows stubbornly knit together, he paced the floor in agitation.

"What is it, darling?" the bewitching beauty but half his age mewed.  Her eyes still puffed from sleep; she had parted the bed curtains alluringly.  Though it was nearly noon, she yawned and stretched, settling back into sleep.

How beautiful she is!  This enchanting siren was a recent acquisition from his previous excursion.  Recalling the pleasures of last night, a smile grew on Rexi's lips, and the color returned hotly to his cheeks.  Going over, he gently sat at the edge of the bed.  Her sweet perfume assailed his nose, intoxicating his senses and enticing him to fondle her cheek once more.

"Oh, let me sleep!" she purred.  "I'm tired.  You wouldn't let me nap at all last night."

Grinning mischievously, he followed her under the covers as all his previous concerns and fury dissipated in her scent.

                                                                                       ~

At cockcrow that morning, as Birgergu received Fradel's letter, Magistrate Yakove and a few of his close associates had raised parting toasts to the scholar and had escorted him to the city gates.  Despite his protests, Fradel had been constrained to accept the protection of a squad of fifteen stout, well-armed bodyguards under the leadership of a lieutenant Zujor.  They were to deliver Fradel safely to the borders of the province.

With the walls of the great city long since lost in the distance, the party of seventeen traveled the lugubrious road at a canter for half a day, each cocooned in their thoughts.

 The uninspiring, desolate ground they traversed was but occasionally dotted with naked hillocks and the monotony left them riding in the miasma of a dream.

Fradel's reverie meandered to thoughts of his blood brother, Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir, and a troubled expression crossed his face.  To purge his heart of this longing and regret, he turned his gaze to the limitless sky, not heeding the refreshing wind that caressed his exposed neck.  He watched with misty eyes the white, billowing clouds as they converged, then parted, and then sailed (wisped) away across the sky.  When he lowered his gaze and looked ahead, he saw a small, scrub-covered knoll in their path, a precursor of a number of undulating, forested hills that skirted a great mountain whose peak seemed to scratch the clouds.

I don't remember ever having crossed such a mountain. Fradel reflected, surveying these strange surroundings.  Yet, if it was the guard's aim to injure me, they could have done it long ago.  Opportunities had abounded on that desolate path, so devoid of habitations or inns.

 He was about to query the stone-faced horseman alongside him regarding this choice of route when, quite precipitously, Fiery Comet halted and refused to advance any further.

Misconstruing this delay as Fradel's intent, Zujor left his scout and approached to reassure the scholar.

 "The reconnaissance bodes well.  The forest extending beyond these hills is clear of any danger.  If you desire, sir, we could take a short sojourn here and lunch in the shade of those trees."

Before Fradel could respond Fiery Comet, in another surprise move, suddenly bolted off on a course tangential to their line of advance (intended direction).

Zujor shouted Fradel to stop as he and the rest of the guards simultaneously fell into a hot pursuit.  That same instant a shrill whistle was heard from behind the woodland hill as a large body of armed brigands poured onto the road, brandishing their swords, charging by with the force of an avalanche out to bury its prey.

 Only the scout stood on his ground, a look of mute surprise froze on his face as his head hit the earth.  Alarmed, Zujor ordered two of his ablest men to forge ahead after the swiftly disappearing Fradel as he and the other dozen wheeled their horses about to bar the road at a defile between two hillocks.

"And just where do you think you're going, knave?" Zujor bellowed at the top of his voice.  So fierce was the lieutenant's cry that the point rider's horse stumbled, toppling its rider to the ground.

"Clear the way if you wish to live!" boomed the voice of the new Bandit Chief, as he whipped his horse to the fore.

 "Our business is not with you.  We only want revenge on the cursed scholar Fradel."

  As he brandished his sword his men let up a mighty yell to spur their murderous charge.

"You'll have to go through me and Hell first!"  Gritting his teeth the brave Zujor glowered at the new Bandit Chief as he steadied his horse, and his squad lowered their lances to meet the charge.

 The fierce fighting and bloodletting that ensued lasted several hours. Swords flailed the air and spears thrust out like pumps as the horses' hooves churned up the turf.  Though lieutenant Zujor and his men were all competent fighters, their adversaries, the bandits, were impregnable (in numbers) and unsurpassed in their cunning and maneuvers.

 When Zujor's strength ebbed, he was mercilessly cut down, sliced clear through from shoulder to waist and the four remaining guards dispersed in panic in all directions.

A small force was allocated to hunt them down while the main body of bandits, responding in one voice to their Chief's command, forged ahead after Fradel.

Riding their superb beasts on the wind, they soon overtook the two guards.  As a few stayed behind to engage the soldiers, the rest chewed on the dust trail Fradel had left behind.  The distance between Fradel and his pursuers widened further with every minute.  Fiery Comet, unequaled in agility and speed, pushed on until, diving into the wall of the forest, they were both lost to human sight.

For countless hours the relentless bandits scoured the dense forest, an evil place with hidden dangers of its own where ancient trees dramatically screened out the sun or altogether, turning day into night, blotting out the sky.  A lookout, climbing to the top of the tallest tree, ardently surveyed the area beyond the forest with his eagle eyes until finally, he spotted a lone, snaking trail of dust in the southeast that disappeared into a crevice between two hills.

 Racing towards it, they traversed a great distance until the strengths of both men and beast were spent beyond their endurance.  It was as though Fradel had been swallowed up by the earth or had vanished into thin air.  With the valley veiled in the shadows of twilight they set up camp, not daring to concede defeat and resolved to continue on with their search at the first break of day.

 

(END OF SECTION 14)

                                                                                        ~

 

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)