THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 19

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 19

As predicted, it did not take very long before the unconscious scholar stirred.  Stifling a cough, Yagu sat erect, waiting with bated breath for the young man (Nevetsecnuac) to open his eyes.

The Scholar’s (Nevetsecnuac's) lips moved, but no sound ushered forth.  His eyes cracked open then, suddenly recalling his last moments (memories), he sat bolt upright.

"Take it easy, son." a friendly voice stopped him from jumping off of the bed.  "You might have had a concussion after that fall."

Fortunately, Nevetsecnuac having just then regained his focus, turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw the old farmer whom he instantly recognized.  "How is it that you came to be here, sir?" He asked respectfully despite his surprise.  Then, feeling a gripping pain in the back of his head, he raised his hand absentmindedly to touch it; there was a big lump there, that correspondingly stained his fingers with a crimson hue.

Yagu Dorka, hummed and hemmed, as he arranged his thoughts and the consistent facts that would tally (correspond, parallel) with the yarn he was about to weave (knit, plait); but even before Yagu responded, Svein (Nevetsecnuac) had already grasped the situation and the reason why he had been spared, from an otherwise, certain doom.

Nevetsecnuac now discretely observed how Yagu’s difficult life had etched a few more lines on his face already scored with wrinkles. Despite his apparent ailment however, which anew threw the old man into another violent fit of coughing, he was still a hardy peasant and, not easily sapped of his strength.

Eventually, when Yagu's coughing subsided, “So, it is you! I thought as much." his eyes smarting, the old man forced a smile to his quivering lips and nodded.

 “Heaven be praised! Sir, you gave us such a scare when you fainted."  He pounded at his chest to relieve the congestion.

"Fainted? No.", Svein's voice was incredulous. “I was drugged,” he wanted to say more, but he stilled his tongue, for fear of further aggravating Yagu’s condition.

"Yes, yes, you're right, of course. You passed out, but it was not done on purpose, you know."  Yagu groped for words, then grimaced slightly, leaning back to explain in a sincere tone.  "You see, at my advanced age, I'm always beset with ailments of one kind or another.  I won't bore you with lengthy explanations of them all.  Only that, well, one of my medications, it was my fault, really for leaving it on the kitchen counter after I'd used it, and wouldn't you know it?  It was mistakenly, when I was absent, it was used by Kenny, my cousin’s, the Innkeeper’s youngest son, when he made your tea.  You see, the ingredients of this prescription bear an uncanny resemblance to the tea leaves we use, and the pots are of the same sort.  It's understandable that he could make that mistake.  I'm so very sorry."

Yagu spread his hands comically.

Likely story: you must think of me as a fool.  Nevetsecnuac was peeved; still not letting on, with outward calm equanimity, he listened on to the absurd (bizarre) explanation.

 "Any way, it’s one of its medicinal properties that it puts me to sleep."  Stifling a cough, he shook his head, "Yes, that stupid boy gave you my medicine by mistake but don't worry, it won't harm you none.  Not a big boy like you.  Or should I say "man" now?" 

Yagu started to chuckle, partly due to his attempt at humor, partly in relief, as he saw that Svein raised no objections to his fabrication.

 "You are married by now, are you not?"  He paused to note Svein's nod.  "You must tell me all about it later.  After all we've shared, we're practically kinsmen, are we not?"

 Yagu smiled sheepishly while taking such liberties.

 "I'm afraid all I've gotten is older, although I've picked up a little learning, thanks to my educated cousin here….”

"Well, anyway, you should have seen the commotion when you fainted, passed out, rather.  You gave us such a scare," Yagu slapped his knee jovially, "that is, until we found out what had happened to you.  I came in just as you passed out, you see."

Nevetsecnuac (Svein), now that the danger had passed, was both amused and entertained by Yagu's description of the supposed antics of the innkeeper's family.  He knew it was all invented, but Yagu had the individual's characteristics all in place, and embellished it with such detail, thinking, no doubt, that he was covering all angles.

"And if you're wondering how, it is you revived so quickly, well, that's easily enough explained," Yagu concluded, "we gave you another medicine, one I use to keep me on my toes.  You see, I tire so easily and there's so much to be done around here.  Yes sir, it did the trick and brought you around in a jiffy.  Luckily you had not drunk so much tea to begin with and you're such a healthy young man.  Well, I mustn't disturb you any longer.", slapping his knee, Yagu rose to go just as a tray of food was brought in by the grinning Aguda, who parroted the same story as the old man, even using the same turns of phrase Yagu had used except for the minor difference of substituting the word 'wine' for 'tea'.

"We'll talk at length tomorrow."  Yagu tugged at Aguda's sleeve, steering him towards the door to cut short his prattling.  "Yes, yes, and we'll introduce you to everyone tomorrow too, especially my grandson Lerty, he’s such a good boy and you are his benefactor, he must thank you personally! We both owe you so much.” Yagu affectionately smiled at Svein.

“Yes, you’ll meet him tomorrow, because it’s too late now.” Yagu continued. “And besides, you should eat before your meal gets cold, and rest.  But don't hesitate to call out if you need anything else, son.  My room is right next to yours."  He pushed (shoved) his cousin Aguda the innkeeper outside and closed the door after them.

"What's the matter with you?"  Once outside, the old man wiped the beads of perspiration off of his forehead and looked scornfully at Aguda.  "You know, you really talk too much!  You nearly spoiled everything.  Didn't you eavesdrop on what I was telling him?"  Grumbling, he kept up the reproach as he led the way to the kitchen.

"I spoil everything.  You're completely without fault, I suppose?" Aguda gestured sarcastically then, closing the kitchen door to sneer spitefully.

"What?  What did I do that was so wrong?" Yagu jumped back down the other's throat with his questioning gaze.

Aguda glared back, resisting the urge to bellow, "How come you couldn't think of a better excuse than that one you gave?  You gave me dreadful fear back there."

"And what was wrong with it?  He bought it, didn't he?  I thought I was rather clever cooking up such a convincing story."

"Clever, perhaps," Aguda laughed coldly, "except that he drank no tea."

"NO TEA?"

"Shh!!!  Quiet!  You want him to hear you?" Aguda warned hotly.

"Then what was the teapot doing there on the table?" Yagu demanded angrily in a quieter voice.  "I know you're too cheap to spoil the wine or the food."

"Well, for your information, we'd spiked all three.  And no, he partook of no tea; it was too coarse for his liking."  Aguda snorted, wrinkling his nose.  "It was half a cup of wine, if that? But for certain, it was the spiked vittles that did the job."

"No tea?  No tea!  Yet he...  augh, Gods preserve me!" Yagu clutched at his chest, stymied, totally missing Aguda's ugly grimace.

 "Oh, I feel so ashamed!" he meekly ejected, looking to his cousin for some sympathy, some understanding.  "He knew all along that I was lying, yet..."

"Yet he allowed you to maintain your dignity." Aguda nodded coldly.  "Such finesse!"

"Such manners too, don't forget.  He's a most remarkable young man, isn't he?"  Yagu’s sigh rumbled in his chest like thunder.

 "Oh, how I wish I'd had a son like him.  That boy will go far."  Again, he began to cough.  "You know, your boys can learn a lot from him."

"And what's wrong with my boys?" Aguda's eyes blazed with anger as he retorted hotly.

"Nothing…  No need to get so huffy about it.  I merely suggested that they take some lessons from this young man.", Yagu was cowed.  "You said yourself; he has such finesse.  Respect, isn't that what you meant by it?"

I said 'finesse', you fool! Aguda swore inwardly yet nodded his head in concurrence.  It's pointless to argue intelligently with this ignoramus.

"Yes, your boys do show respect to you, but not much to anyone else, certainly not to their stepmother Fiona."  Yagu threw a quick pitying glance at Aguda's young wife, toiling quietly in the corner then busied himself with the preparation of his own nightly potion.

Aguda's stern eyes scrutinized his wife briefly as a sinister, ugly smile played fleetingly across his face.  Deciding not to make an issue of it, he snorted and returned his attention back to Yagu. 

"It's your own fault if they show no respect to you, old buzzard. Aguda jumped in, not giving the other a chance to speak. “For, in all cases you must earn their respect first.” 

“All right, whatever you say...” Yagu was tired of constantly fighting Aguda, and as usual, let things slide.

 “Well then, so long as you see the error of your ways, “Aguda having won this round as well, softened. “Though now, I think I'd better go and lock up." Gloating in self-satisfaction, Aguda jumped to his feet. 

"You're going to be all right with that?" he asked his wife rhetorically as he headed out the door.

"Yes, yes, you go on ahead." she answered automatically.  "I'll secure the back door after I'm done here and dumped the..."  She saw he was gone.

"You'd better go to bed, too, sweet child." Yagu said to Fiona kindly, once Aguda was absent.  "It'll wait until tomorrow."

"I've kept your supper warm, Uncle," the young woman assented, "shall I dish it out for you now?"

"No, no, dear.  You just go on ahead.  You must be exhausted, toiling all day without rest.  I'll serve myself."

When she'd left Yagu prepared himself a platter, careful to add an extra helping for his grandson, in case the poor boy had, once again, missed his dinner.

 

                                                                                     ~

After proper introductions at dawn of the following day, Svein informed Yagu of his wish to depart at mid-morning, even though the downpour had not ceased.  Of course, his host would not hear of it and, gaining reinforcement from the innkeeper and his brood, prevailed upon Svein all morning to delay his departure for at least a day or two.  The false, forced sincerity, however, made Svein long all the more to escape this den-of-deceit.

After having readied his luggage, he breakfasted in the large dining hall.  Yagu was still pestering him not to go when Kenny, the youngest boy, burst in, dripping wet to announce that he'd spotted another traveler headed in their direction.

Elatedly just then Aguda let it slip to Svein, how good fortune had smiled on them thrice this week that, this was their third customer in as many days, a rare occurrence indeed.  Seated across the table from Svein, Yagu sat with a lowered head, (chewing his lip and) hiding the serious concern that had suddenly registered on his pupils.

Presently Svein witnessed first-hand the stir, the commotion from within the inn as they prepared to welcome yet another potential (prey) customer.

Sometime later, Aguda, having seen every detail, beaming from ear to ear took up his position by the door and waited anxiously, all the while wringing his sweaty hands.

 As soon as the traveler made his appearance at the door, Aguda greeted him with the same, patented felicitations that Svein had received earlier on; but when, after the sweeping bow which Aguda typically used to accompany his congenial inquiry of the stranger's name- the larger than life,  fierce newcomer, had instead, fastening (pinning) his cold, disdainful eyes on the innkeeper had simply snorted:

"You may address me as 'Sir'."

Nevetsecnuac could not shake the sudden, foreboding feeling that their puny lives were no more than a mere annoyance to this superior being; as at same moment a deadly, oppressive shadow had instantly engulfed the entire premise, chilling everyone within, to the marrow.  This was no ordinary traveler; there was something potent, something so very lethal about him.

The red-faced Aguda, mumbling nonsense, looked about him, as if seeking a hole to crawl into, only to see the amused Yagu turning his face to the wall as the old man stifled a chuckle.

From his odd attire the stranger could be any number of things: a warrior ranger, a military guard, perhaps an advanced scout, or a lone messenger.  He was formidable enough, his large, framed body towered well over six feet in height and his fiery red hair and grizzled beard framed a pair of ice-cold blue gray eyes.

Shoving aside the glib tongued Aguda, who was intent on ushering him to a seat, he strode boldly over to a table of his own choosing by the rear window and squarely sat himself down. 

As he placed his impressive sword down on the table, he looked across his shoulder at Svein.  Their eyes briefly met.  He grimaced coldly, gave a brief nod of greeting then turned his gaze ahead once more.  He then withdrew a pouch, obviously full of cash, and laid it on the table beside the sword's scabbard.  In a non-nonsense manner, he demanded wine at once and some meat for breakfast.

Aguda hurried Kenny off to the kitchen to start his wife cooking the meat, then attempted, as he had so many times before, to impose himself on his guest.  Unlike other times, the innkeeper was severely rebuked and had to make a hasty retreat to the kitchen after his son.

“Greed makes people courageous, they say.”  Yagu succumbed to additional chuckles.

Aguda emerged shortly with a small jug of wine, not unlike the one Svein had been served, and all in smiles, approached the stranger once more.

"What is this, you dolt?" the stranger thundered.  "Are you hard of hearing or just stupid?

 I asked for a flagon."  With a sudden sweep of his hand, he almost knocked the wine and Aguda with it, to the ground.

 Aguda, with incredible agility, righted himself, managing to spill only a bit of it on his dark clothing.

"It was I who ordered the jug." Svein loudly interposed.  "Please bring it here."

"Oh, yours is coming, sir." Aguda forced a smile to his quivering lips.

 "This is but a complimentary draught for this gentleman while my son fetches his flagon.

"Don't insult our guest!" Yagu felt he must intercede and rushed over to grab the jug from Aguda's hand just before he was about to pour it into the stranger's cup.  He made a pretense of sniffing it. "This is too coarse…our apologies, sir."

 Turning to Aguda he glared, "This is only fit for us, not for such fine gentlemen as our guests.  I'll take it away."

The son then made a timely appearance on the scene with the flagon.  Seeing the seal was unbroken, Yagu relaxed and let the boy pass.  I don't know why I'd worried.  That tightwad would never taint that much wine.

Svein (Nevetsecnuac) disdainfully observed the exchange of looks between the two men, as Aguda held the kitchen door for Yagu.  Nevetsecnuac surmised how; once they were hidden from view, both would be locked in a heated row, with Yagu again obstinately opposing Aguda's diabolical attempt to claim yet another victim.  It was apparent that even his substantial gift to Yagu earlier had not alleviated Aguda's greed enough to deter him from more (acts of) murders.

Meanwhile, the stranger, indifferently, or perhaps unaware of the peril he was in, downed one cup after another in succession, his eyes fixed steadily outside the window.  Only when the flagon was emptied, he angrily pounded the table and howled like a wolf for more.  At once another flagon and the hot meal were rushed to him to calm him down before he brought the whole inn down around him.

Svein delayed his departure, captivated by this most intriguing stranger and, never doubting his prowess, wishing to see how he would deal with this danger.  Naturally Aguda could do little to affect his fiendish plan (scheme) and so, after the safe departure of the stranger, Nevetsecnuac bid his farewells and resumed his lonely trek towards the Capital.

Once more, deliberately choosing the remote, cross-country routes, he relentlessly, for old habits die hard, pushed onwards, taxing the steed's strength to cover great distances. This time, however, an odd sensation of being tracked persistently gnawed at him; yet, each time he looked around, taking the pains to avidly survey his surroundings, he detected nothing (zilch, nil, zero,) out of the ordinary to warrant extra caution.

                                                                                         ~

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 17

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 17

Traveling in the opposite direction and towards Channing, Nevetsecnuac found himself constrained to adapt to his inferior mount and the moderate life of a scholar.  At odds with his reasoning mind, however, was his impatient heart which longed constantly for his spirited stallion Fiery Comet, riding like the wind and covering great distances in a single day's gallop.  Finding his slow journey tedious and rather tiresome, his thoughts often sailed into a distant future or reverted back to those loved ones he had left in the mountain cabin.  By speculating on the exciting life experiences of the identical twins, growing up in the mountains under the careful supervision of Lord Asger and his beloved wife, he found some joy and solace in his travails.

 For three consecutive days it had rained incessantly; though no food had passed his lips, he had been soaked to the skin in the absence of shelter, and he had gotten little or no sleep, Nevetsecnuac remained quite inured (accustomed, acclimatized) to the discomforts.  His only concern presently, however, was for his mount (horse), whose hooves trod laboriously through the muddy rivulets, fearful lest the beast fall ill.

 A faint smile brushed his lips when the deluge finally began to taper off and, a short time later, altogether ceased but the elusive sun, refusing to bless them with its light, delineated the drenched area in a dismal miasma.  The musty smell of mildew rising from the fall's decaying debris littering the grounds spread over the lone rider and his horse like a spider's sticky web, oppressing, choking them in its silky strings.

"We'll soon be out of this.", soothingly Nevetsecnuac patted the horse's main, urging the animal to persevere, but the mounting storm clouds piling up even more thickly atop that glum, gray, lugubrious sky, countered the prince's hopeful prediction.  As if to bring the horse's nerves to extreme tautness, as if to surmount his despair, to increase his trying ordeal, demented winds suddenly arose to pierce both man and beast to the bone.

The next instant luminous veins slashed the sky, and in their wake the deafening thunder tore open the air, eradicating any hope of reprieve.

Pattering raindrops, picking up momentum as they fell, now began pounding, drumming on Nevetsecnuac's head, shoulders and back.  His already drenched garments, not having had the chance to dry in that brief spell of calm, clung uncomfortably to him once more.  Distractedly Nevetsecnuac gazed at the beaded strings of rain decorating the naked branches and the bobbing pearls on the rivulets ahead that had not yet been tainted by the horse's hooves.

A glimmer of hope suddenly sprung up in his heart when, in the distance, he spotted the indistinct, quivering, almost abstract outline of an inn. 

"Well, old boy, your troubles are almost at an end." he coaxed the horse's mane. 

"Now, if you'll be good enough to oblige us with some speed, we may arrive there at least before twilight (nightfall); so, how about it?"  But the horse complacently kept on with his painfully slow trod.  Refraining from flailing at the horse's rump, Nevetsecnuac bit his lip and grumbled.

“I could make better time than this on foot.  How could Fradel put up with such a hopeless, impractical beast?”  He jumped to the ground in a single bound, dismounting.  Taking the animal by the reins, he led him down the path at twice the pace; but in that miasmic (vaporous) atmosphere, he’d underestimated the distance, arriving there still at dusk.

As they approached the inn, the fierce barking of the dogs in back nearly spooked the horse to death.  Too tired to bolt, he responded favorably to soothing strokes of his neck and settled for merely stamping his hooves on the ground, dredging up more mud to stain Nevetsecnuac's fine boots and scholar's coat.

 At once, from behind the screen of rain falling off of the eaves three strong youths (in their teens) had rushed out, spurred on by the innkeeper to greet the traveler. As one, holding a thatched umbrella over the guest's head, ushered him inside, the other, unloading the luggage from the horse, followed on their heels.  The youngest, meanwhile, took the horse's reins to lead him around the side of the inn to the stable.

"Welcome, welcome distinguished sir!  The hospitality of the Dancing-Bear Inn is at your service.” The pockmarked-faced innkeeper smiled and introduced himself as Aguda.

 Flamboyantly bowing low, he greeted Nevetsecnuac at the door, uttering even more insincere felicitations as he showed Nevetsecnuac to a seat.  This fervent reception made Nevetsecnuac a bit uneasy, but he had expected as much from so obviously empty an establishment.  Undaunted, he donned a polite smile, cut short Aguda's wagging, glib tongue as it expressed empathy with Nevetsecnuac's hardships on the road, and briefly stated his requirements for that night.  At once the innkeeper moved with alacrity, dispensing the orders to his underlings, who looked strangely like kinfolk, then ushered Nevetsecnuac into a room at back, which Aguda professed to be quite comfortable.

"This is the best room we have, sir." Aguda assured Nevetsecnuac as he noticed the slight wrinkling of his guest's nose as it responded to the overpowering aroma of mildew and dust.  "It just needs a Little airing, that's all.  Under the circumstances, I think you'll agree that opening the shutters is hardly feasible on such a night, but if you should prefer another..."

"It will suffice." Nevetsecnuac demurred, holding out a restraining hand.  "I'll be fine here for the night.  Shall I pay you now?"

"That is not necessary, honorable sir.  You may settle all accounts when you take your leave tomorrow." the innkeeper replied.

He could plainly see the thick layer of dust shrouding everything by the flicker of the suddenly lit oil-lamp and the newly kindled fire in the mantle.  The proprietor, disregarding this obvious neglect, arranged a few chairs and, with fawning solicitude, proceeded to look after Nevetsecnuac's other requirements.  At once he reappeared with a basin of water and behind him, a procession of shuffling bodies carrying a warm quilt, some hot tea and victuals arranged on a tray.

I must remain on my guard tonight. Nevetsecnuac mused as the parade moved through the dust of the room.  The customs in these parts may be different, but I have yet to see an innkeeper trust a guest overnight for the room fee, most irregular.  If it were not for the poor condition of that beast, I would not have gone contrary to my better judgment and stopped here at all.  I can only hope that, by tomorrow, he'll be rested well enough for us to continue on our way.

"Will you be requiring anything else, sir?" the strong voice intruded sharply on Nevetsecnuac's thoughts.

"No, thank you.  You may leave."

The two remaining youths flashed each other a conspiratorial smile, then quickly spun on their heels and left the room.

You suppose you have ensnared me in this den of jackals, but you will not find me all that vulnerable a victim, to be bested. Nevetsecnuac smiled after them. Then, shucking off his wet outer layers of garb (clothing), he carefully spread them by the fire to dry.

After checking thoroughly for spy holes in the walls and ceiling, he found a secretive place in the room in which he concealed the waxed parchment containing Fradel's papers and his money pouch. 

This accomplished, he washed his hands and face then, finding a dry brown shirt, he put it on, wrapping himself in the quilt and sunk into the wicker chair by the crackling fire.

 No sooner had he settled down than rivulets of perspiration beaded his forehead and ran down his red-hot cheeks.  Casting aside the quilt, he walked over to the bed, throwing himself onto it.  He expected it to give a bit but not only was the thick pad harder than granite, but clouds of dust also rose up at this disturbance to choke and constrict his lungs.  His throat parched, the bedbugs already beginning their feast on his flesh, he angrily jumped back off the bed, scratching.

Oh well, this was to be expected.  He shrugged and wandered over to the table on which the tea and sweetmeats were placed.  Despite the pangs of hunger that now stabbed at his stomach, the oily, gray food did not look at all that appetizing. 

Fingering one or two pieces, he was about to pop a morsel into his mouth when he was distracted by the angry voice of the proprietor outside the door.

"How come he's not back yet?  You should have gone with him to the doctors.  What if he croaks on the road?"

The quivering voice of a child stubbornly interjected, "My grandpa's strong.  He'll be back soon, Uncle, you'll see."

"No one cares what you think!" another young voice snapped at the child.

"Stop bothering Paa (dad)!"  The sound of a hand smartly striking a cheek started the littlest one bawling and Nevetsecnuac heard the crying child being dragged away, soothed by a female's compassionate murmurs.

"Blasted bag of bones and skin's been gone all morning," the innkeeper was heard, to grumble next, "leaving all the work for me to do.  Zog, have you fed the dogs at least?"

"Yes, sir; I fed them a few hours ago."

"Then why are they still raising such a ruckus?  Go and see what's wrong, and quiet them down!  Blasted pests," Aguda shouted after the eldest boy, "always hungry. They'll eat us out of house and home.”

"You," Aguda shouted at one of the other boys, "what are you doing standing here loitering for?  Go to the kitchen and help your mother, your brothers can finish up the cleaning here.  Now, scram!"  The voices moved off down the hall and what was said afterwards was muffled by the whispers and the sounds of brooms shuffling the floor.

Returning his attention to the finger food and tea, Nevetsecnuac lifted the teapot, sniffed under the lid, and then returned it to the table.  If it's their intention to rob me tonight, this foul-smelling brew could easily hide any drug.  It’s impossible to tell.

Suddenly a tap came at the door and the innkeeper peered through the crack he'd opened up.  "Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?" he inquired as he let himself in without so much as an invitation from Nevetsecnuac. 

"Perhaps the tea is not to your liking.  It's the water, I'm afraid." Aguda smiled wryly when Nevetsecnuac objected to the innkeeper (unceremoniously) pouring him a cup.

 Darting a glance at the untouched tidbits, he added, "The meal will be ready soon, sir.  My wife is taking extra care tonight to make you a meat goulash, something that is sure to please your palate.  May I benefit from your company in the meanwhile?  We rarely get any visitors to these parts, especially ones as distinguished as you.  One can't help but wonder what circumstance has brought you to these parts."

Without a pause in his muttering, Aguda drew a chair up to the table and sat himself comfortably by Nevetsecnuac.

 "Ah, it was not always like this, I assure you.  This used to be the only route leading to Wincox City, and then we enjoyed good business.  That is where you are headed, is it not, sir?"  This time he waited to receive a nod from Nevetsecnuac before continuing.

 "Yes, things have assuredly changed, ever since they built that accursed, more direct route; for this road always had been plagued by mudslides. Of course, clearing away a major part of the forest didn't help.”

"And who's responsible, you ask?  Well, two mansions were not enough for His Excellency, Governor Borg; he had to use all the wood in these parts to make himself an even more grandiose one.  Of course, they moved in, plus his labor force to farm here for a time, but the rocky, infertile land made them go bust in less than two years and they all left, but not until their livestock had stripped away every bit of grass or shrub."  He shook his head and laughed coldly, then abruptly stilled his tongue, before he could land himself in serious trouble by his uttering of more incriminating words, about the despised official.

Aguda's narrow eyes regained their former composure before he added in resignation, "You're most fortunate, sir, to have gotten through.  The rains sometimes last for weeks and resulting floods make this section of the road utterly impassable."  He spread his hands despondently.

 "Either that, or the bridge gets washed out. But, of course, how stupid of me; you did not come that way."

From his next round of convoluted, nearly incomprehensible mutterings Nevetsecnuac learned that there were three roads diverging from a distant junction.  One would lead him to a small village; the middle would join the major highway and take him to Wincox City; while the third would land him at a dead end at the washed-out bridge, which had been left in disrepair.

This unusually inquisitive innkeeper, indecorously imposing himself upon Nevetsecnuac, began to, quite blatantly, pry Nevetsecnuac about his personal background, his destination, the intent of his travels, and whether there was anyone awaiting him in Wincox City.

 Satisfied with the fabrications (which as precautionary measure) Nevetsecnuac was obliged to provide, including the assumed name of Svein Therran, Aguda, relaxed his vigil. Having eventually ran out of things to say, he was looking to excuse himself when,

"Oh, bring it in, boy!" he suddenly sat upright, urging the youth, who had just made his timely appearance at the crack in the door, to bring in a tray of wine and cups.

 "I took the liberty of having some wine warmed up for you, sir.  I know that you have not expressed any wish to consume some, but on a day such as this you may perhaps benefit from its medicinal properties.  It will certainly warm up your bones. Please, please have some; it’s the finest vintage we have to offer. It’s on the house; a small token. It’s also my way of welcoming a distinguished guest like you, sir.  Perhaps, by speaking favorably of us to your traveling colleagues, you may steer some business in our direction."  Aguda filled two cups and presented one of them to Nevetsecnuac.

Before Nevetsecnuac had even raised the cup to his lips, the innkeeper, seeming to lack all manners or, perhaps, intent on proving the wine's harmlessness to his guest, quickly quaffed his portion, holding it in his mouth to savor the taste before gulping it down and noisily smacking his lips.

Pretending to partake some also, Nevetsecnuac discreetly poured all of it into a crack between the floorboards and then joined in the praise of this highly scented, coarse, rather unpalatable vintage.  Afterwards quickly putting his cup down, Nevetsecnuac reached for the jug to pour another cup for the proprietor, "Please, allow me."

"Oh no, sir, I must decline." Aguda pulled his nervous gaze from the door to hold his palm out over his cup.  "I've imposed on you long enough; I mustn't be remiss with my other duties.  I'll go at once and see what's keeping your meal.  Please don't let me interrupt your enjoyment of this wine, feel free to finish it in my absence.  If you wish, I'll join you later for another jug.  Please, please now, enjoy."  He rose to his feet just in time to be hailed by his wife outside about some other problem.

"You see how I can't even have one moment to myself without having something go awry.  I have to oversee everything, however trivial."  In this way he excused himself and, swiftly pivoting on his heel, darted out of the room.

Going for the antidote, I see. Nevetsecnuac gave a bemused smile as he drew a silver pin from the sleeve of his jacket.  Dipping the pin into the wine jug, he then drew it out and, quite unruffled, studied it for a time, all the while noting its particular discoloration.

 As I suspected, Nevetsecnuac nodded, whilst he put the pin back.

Instead of showing anger, Nevetsecnuac knit his brows in deep concern for the innkeeper and his family as he resumed his former seat.  Despite his coarse manner, apparent cruelty and deceit, he is still only a tragic victim of his circumstance.  Stroking the stubble on his chin, in deep despair, Nevetsecnuac absentmindedly reached for a morsel on the tray and popped it into his mouth.  Strangely enough, the taste was quite pleasant.

"Don't we have enough already?" the wife's complaining voice came from outside.  "The smell sticks to the pots and they're already well fed.  It's not proper.  What if they turn on us next?  I'm already beset with dreadful nightmares!" she cried as her quivering voice diminished.

"Stop being such a weak, cowardly woman!  They are chained, are they not?" Aguda erupted. “And remember, not a word of this to my cousin. You know how grumpy, sanctimonious and quite unreasonable that dictatorial old fool has gotten to be lately, always wanting things done his way."

"But it's not right, I tell you, “The woman's voice was almost a whimper, "I fear that Heaven will punish us…. It’s not right!"

The voices outside mingled with the heavy downpour drumming on the roof, then both swiftly muted.  A sudden tiredness enveloped Nevetsecnuac, weighing his head and body down like lead. 

Oh no!  Realizing that the tidbits had also been laced, he spat the last piece from his mouth and tried, in vain, to vomit.  By then it was too late, the chemical was in his bloodstream.  The room lights dimmed, and his head began to spin.  He struggled to his feet, holding on the table's edge to steady himself.  He tried to totter towards his luggage, where the range of antidotes were kept, but his legs gave out underneath him and the next instant he collapsed, unconscious, onto the floor.

The room was quickly filled by those who were waiting outside.

"Good, he's done for!"

"Usually one cup does it.", one laughed spitefully.

"Fool, it wasn't the wine that did-him-in!"

"Who are you calling a fool?" fuming, the younger boy shook a fist in his elder brother's face, ready to pounce on him right there.

"Stop all that bickering, help me pick him up and search through his garments.  Quick!" Aguda cut short their wrangling.

 "Why must you two always argue?" he glared at the boys.  "I don't understand where you get your tempers from.  Haven't I always preached tolerance and patience between blood relations?  Why can't you two be like Kenny?"  Turning, he asked the eldest, "I hope you didn't waste too much of that drug, Zog.  We're running low on it."

"I did as you instructed, Paa." Zog beamed in satisfaction. 

"I put equal measure, exactly the amount you said, into the tea and the wine, and the other kind, more potent potion onto the meaty morsels as well as veggie vittles.  That way we couldn't miss it."

"You’ve laced the veggie vittles too? How clever of you to think of that. “

“Paa, he sure was a sneaky one; he guessed at the wine…."

Aguda disregarded Yaggy and smiled at his favorite firstborn.  "Good boy, Zog.  Still, I wish there was someone else we could go to get it.  It's getting harder and harder to wrestle it from that old crow, who only knows how to raise his prices."

 He stone-faced, looked at the unconscious victim, the helpless Nevetsecnuac, ""A good specimen, in fact too fine a build for a scholar.  I wonder if he really is who he professes (claims) to be.  I rather liked him, too.  No matter, he'll end up in the same place as the rest."

"Yeah, in a dog's gut!"  Yaggy chuckled, rubbing his hands in gruesome relish of the scene to come.

"Have some respect, boy!" The innkeeper scolded.  This one's cruelty, his lack of human feelings and respect for human life had, in fact, become a serious concern for Aguda.  Cutting short yet another lecture, he ordered the two eldest boys to carry the unconscious victim Scholar (Nevetsecnuac) to the large, hardwood table in the kitchen.  As a practiced part of the process by now, the youngest, Kenny, was sent on ahead to warn the mother to clear away from the kitchen, sparing her from the grisly acts that was to follow.

Staying behind only long enough to scoop up Scholar’s (Nevetsecnuac's) precious belongings for himself, Aguda then followed his sons.

                                                                                           ~

(END OF SECTION 17)

 

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 12

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 12

Nevetsecnuac politely coughed to break the uneasy silence and then adroitly, with apt sensitivity, addressed all the areas of difficulty till most of Fradel's qualms were eased.  As it were, even though Fradel's literary work had won him fame and his reputation had been widespread throughout the Kingdom, his previous seclusion proved to be a bonus (advantage) to their present plan (stratagem). No one, not even the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren who was responsible for his recommendation at Court (save for a few acquaintances in Fradel’s remote region), knew of his precise physical appearance.

Nevetsecnuac was erudite (scholarly, cultured, widely read); now factor in the official’s hasty, unprecise (undetailed) sketch on the ID permit, then, Nevetsecnuac could easily pass as Fradel.  All that remained at present was for the Nevetsecnuac to be briefed (updated) on the pertinent details of what was expected of him upon his arrival at the Capital and at his presentation at Court, as had been previously relayed to Fradel by the Imperial palace guard Tuo (special attaché of P.M. from the Rights division).  Diligently, Fradel began to share all he knew, even though he was extremely tired and barely able to stay awake.

"Elder Brother, you are exhausted.  Why do you persist in going on?” Nevetsecnuac was concerned about Fradel’s health, just then asserted. “Please get some rest.  Since there are still so many details that need going over, I will stick around (linger, tarry) for an extra day." To encourage Fradel to retire, Nevetsecnuac, quickly snuffed out (blew) the two candle lights, leaving only one.

“All right… Good… I will go rest then. “Fradel, inwardly overjoyed to have his brother with him for another day, lethargically rose from his seat and, after divesting his outer suit coat, climbed under the covers of the bed.

"I look forward to exchanging more info…" His voice trailed to silence for, no sooner had his head touched the pillow than he sank instantly into a deep slumber.

Nevetsecnuac subsequently following Fradel's lead, had also gone to bed. The room at present enveloped in pitch darkness and tranquil air (silence) permeating throughout now that the storm outside had subsided, it became highly conducive to sleep yet sleep averted Nevetsecnuac. Laying on his back (reposing) perfectly still till small hours, his mind enumerated (reckoned, listed) every possible circumstance, hoping to ensure (secure) Fradel's safety, as well, exempt Fradel from suspicion of conspiracy, for Nevetsecnuac did not wish to have on his conscience, another purge of the Scholars. Only after Nevetsecnuac had resolved every variance of peril (risk, hazard), did he closed his eyes to gain some rest, but by then it was too late, the cock's crow outside announced the arrival of a new day.

The help downstairs was already, heard, stirring; quietly Nevetsecnuac rose from his bed, washed up, dressed, then exited the room. Nevetsecnuac informed the innkeeper of their intention to stay for an additional day and left with them the instructions that Fradel presently was not disturbed.  Then he went to the stable to check on the horses.

 It was late morning, long after Nevetsecnuac had breakfasted and taken a ride to survey the countryside that Fradel awoke.  During the course of the day, they both rode the safe pathways that Nevetsecnuac had found and talked at length as Nevetsecnuac's ingenious plan was unfolded.

Fortunately, as apt precaution, both had given false (synonym) names when they had sought lodgings (and registered), as well, refrained from divulging their travel plans to the very inquisitive Innkeeper, the night before.  Later still, Nevetsecnuac had learned, by conversing with the help, that by some good fortune they had taken the roundabout route to Fradel's destination, the Provincial Capital of Toren.  This road first bypassed the town of Monter and was not as frequented as the other.  Accordingly, Fradel was instructed to, upon reaching Monter, claim that he had taken the more direct route; this way the incriminating evidence (clue) of their being seen together at the inn, would hence be missed (concealed, overlooked) by the future probable (likely) investigators overseeing Fradel's case.

Rising at dawn the next day they left the inn.  After a full day’s ride at dusk stopping at the secluded spot, they set up camp.  Repast quickly concluded, as an added precaution their personal apparel worn at the inn and on the road leading there, was quickly consigned to the flames and they both donned scholar's garments.  Of course, Nevetsecnuac now carried all of Fradel's important papers on his person as well as, on Fradel's insistence, the special brush and ink pad, though the prince felt it would be of limited use.

Returning to the fork in the road, they then took the alternate, more direct route.  At a significant location they dismounted and buried Lord Asger's sword, for either of them to retrieve later.  This was necessary as Nevetsecnuac would most undoubtedly be searched at the city gate.

It was also determined that, in order to enforce the deception, they must also exchange their steeds.

His heart laden with misgivings, Fradel watched Fiery Comet's defiance, how he neighed, trotted and shook his head wildly as Nevetsecnuac led the horse by the reins towards him.  Halting a few feet away, Nevetsecnuac stroked Fiery Comet's mane and patiently whispered his brief instructions into the defiant animal's ear until the stallion nodded his head in assent.

How remarkable! Fradel mused.  Can a beast truly be that intelligent?

Surmising Fradel's thoughts, Nevetsecnuac rejoined with a smile as he handed over the reins, "He's like no other, Fradel.  Rest assured, in compliance with my wishes he'll curb his temper and carry you safely to your destination.  When in doubt you may rely on his instincts.  He will deliver you from all danger."

Half convinced; Fradel nodded.

When all had been said and done, the two embraced one last time as brothers and bid an emotional farewell to each other.

Still apprehensive about riding such a magnificent war horse, Fradel braced himself and climbed into the saddle.  Remarkably, just as Nevetsecnuac had assured him it would be, Fiery Comet trotted in a manner and at a speed befitting Fradel's own, more domesticated, gelding.  When a sudden gust of wind rose up to snatch Fradel's scholar's cap off of his head this intelligent animal halted instantly, without receiving any orders, and stood perfectly still until Fradel had dismounted, retrieved his cap.  When Fradel returned to mount him again, he noted the partially dried line of tears under the horse's eyes.  Shaking his head in disbelief, he put his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself back into the saddle.

With longing in his own heart, he then looked back and sought out the consistent form of his new brother, no more than a speck in the distance.  His eyes were soon obscured by tears, and, with blurred vision, he turned his head back in the direction of the road, not knowing that the distant figure stayed with them, just on the horizon, until dusk.

 

(END OF SECTION 12)

                                                                                       ~