Showing posts with label loyalty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loyalty. Show all posts

Friday, 7 March 2025

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 2

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 2


NEVETSECNUAC AND GHOST

                                                                       

 As they walked side by side in the direction of the old, pompous establishment, Lu reflected on the stir his mere presence would beget and, envisioning the consequential mayhem, it gave him such immense satisfaction that he beamed a broad smile.

 Grinning, he shot frequent glances at Svein to observe this youth's striking good looks and honorable bearing. Now that he thought about it, Svein's features did conjure up a faint image in his memory, but he could not tell exactly who this youth reminded him of.

Turning this way and that, they finally reached the ostentatious looking place, with its gaudy decorations, where strange music wafted to the outside. Boldly leading the way, Lu mounted the stairs in quick succession and entered the establishment. He sat himself squarely at a table by the window across from Svein and called for the waiter.

Due to the lateness of the hour, as Lu had anticipated, there were no troublesome officials or constables about and so the place was only half full.

 The brazen few, being their usual obnoxious selves, were engaging all the six or eight waiters that scurried around to serve them.  The proprietor, turning away from mollifying a distinguished-looking customer in a private corner, sighted a common beggar seated across from a fine-looking gentleman, and became so incensed that he volleyed a torrent of abuse upon Lu, endeavoring to drive him away.

The disgruntled, snotty waiter that had walked away with their order, on hearing the commotion, had poked his head out of the kitchen in time to witness the return volley of curses from Lu, and the apologies from his boss as he quickly snatched the silver.

 The waiter quickly concealed his bemused smirk however when the proprietor, red faced with swollen eyes flashing fire and grumbling under his breath, burst into the kitchen to bellow an order of complimentary drinks for Lu and Svein.  Meanwhile the very presence of a beggar had so outraged some haughty customers that, one after another they rose and took their leave in a huffing hurry, sending the waiters and the proprietor into a flurry of activity and humble apologies.

This outrageous treatment of Lu so vexed Nevetsecnuac’s sense of fairness that with a long face he contemplated leaving the premises in disgust; only he did not know how best to propose this to Lu without offending him. His absentminded stare rested on the steamy soup that was just then placed before them as the first course.

"It would be the same anywhere else.” Lu shook his head, surmising what was on Svein's mind.  “Provided that is, another kitchen would be open on this particular night.”

He wrinkled his nose, nonchalantly snorted, then picked up a wooden spoon continued to noisily slurp his hot soup. 

Lu's stubbornness and courage won him, Nevetsecnuac’s admiration. With an assenting smile Nevetsecnuac joined him in sipping the soup, though he did not find it particularly tasteful.

Unperturbed by all the hidden scorn, contemptuous looks and jeers of the waiters and few remaining customers, Lu, downed numerous large cups of the house brew, which oddly enough had little effect on him, and polished off with obvious relish several plates of the restaurant's choice entrees. He then leaned back contentedly in his chair and rubbed his swollen stomach. Adopting purposeful ill manners, he belched loudly then addressed Svein at a resounding volume for all to hear, "I would like to propose that we frequent this place from now on. The service may leave much to be desired, but the food is satisfactory enough for my discriminating palate. What do you say, my young friend?"

The room was plunged instantly into deathly silence. The mortified proprietor, masking his look of dismay, looked searchingly into the eyes of the few remaining, vexed customers with a reassuring smile on his lips that seemed to say, “they will not set foot in here again. Not if I can help it!”

Nevetsecnuac, suppressing his laughter, nodded, and loudly concurred with Lu, "I would be most happy to, sir; how about tomorrow and the night after that?"

"I have no other pressing engagements next two days, so yes, I will be at your disposal.” Lu winked.

A cold shudder went up the proprietor's spine as he scurried off to hide once more in the kitchen. Shortly after, the customers heard him scolding the staff inside as he vented his anger on the hapless cook and kitchen staff.

                                                                              ~

 

When Nevetsecnuac and Lu finally left the premises in the small hours of the night only shadows inhabited the lonely street. Immediately after their departure all the lights of the establishment were quickly turned off (extinguished), all windows tightly shut and the door hastily locked and bolted.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu rounded the corner in silence, then, unable to constrain themselves any longer, burst out in roars of laughter, scaring the lone stray cat onto the rooftop.

“I thank you sir, for this joyous relief.”  Lu wiped away happy tears from the corners of his eyes, “I don’t know how long it’s been since I last laughed.” 

He then thanked Svein (Nevetsecnuac) with a certain elegance for his hospitality. As they continued their seemingly aimless stroll down the street Lu looked up and sang praises to the hazy full moon that, from time to time, peeped teasingly out from behind the dark clouds and bathed the streets in a silver glaze.  The cool breeze, in a symphony with his song, from time to time, sent swirls of dust and debris dancing into the air, choking their lungs, stuffing their noses, and reddening their eyes. Despite this, Lu continued (carried on) with his lively, gay tunes.

"You were too polite to question me during dinner, and even after.” Lu suddenly stopped singing, looked down and thoughtfully shook his head. As Nevetsecnuac searched for the right words to say, Lu now gazed intently at his face, his expression suddenly serious.

  "But this is no place to talk.” he held out a restraining hand until a solitary cloaked stranger that had suddenly appeared, just as swiftly disappeared from view.

 "I would like, however, to invite you to my humble dwelling, where we may converse at length away from any prying eyes and ears. You may not see them, but they are there. This particular neighborhood is full of busybodies."  He shouted out the last sentence, almost as a dare. When Svein (Nevetsecnuac) made a gesture of assent, Lu urged, "Then let us hasten away from here.   Around the bend, on Luckdown Street, we can be at ease. Whatever you do, avoid Royal, Temple, and Court Streets like the plague. That's where the lofty and powerful live, and of course you must shun Imperial Street where the magistrate's offices are."

He had kept up a fast pace while he imparted this council to Svein, his tone no less compassionate and sincere than that of a father addressing a son. Another gusting wind rising just then, swathed the entire region in an oppressive, pitch darkness.  Moments later a heavy downpour mercilessly drummed on their heads, sending the few stray cats and dogs scurrying for cover. Lightning flashed and thunderbolts crashed intermittently around them.

"This way, son,” Lu, with renewed vigor, hastened his steps, veering around many corners to finally lead them to the most isolated part of the town. His good humor still with him, Lu chuckled repeatedly to himself, "I needed a good wash anyway."

This most desolate part of the street was flanked by the ghostly ruins of once grand mansions. 

“Watch your step!” Lu warned; hop skipping the checkered uneven ground with the vitality of a young boy as he continued to lead the way.

Predictably stolen for use elsewhere, Svein mused, observing the unsightly gaps in cobblestones that had once paved the road but were now filled with rainwater.  

 "You won't believe it from the look of things, but these once stately homes used to belong to important dignitaries (notables, personages) and this street once thronged with luxurious carriages day and night. Over there...” he stopped, as the pelting rain cascading down over the brim of his straw hat like strings of pearls effectively concealed his pained look.

 "But the calamities of the past decade have reduced them to this state!” he resumed.

 "Yes, this neighborhood has had its share of grief which, I'm afraid, would be too long in telling. Now, even thieves dare not venture here, for fear of the were-foxes and avenging spirits said to inhabit the ruins."  Throwing his head back he let out a bitter laugh.

“As if the dead would be more terrifying than the…. Ha!”

A few steps further Lu stopped and announced with a grand gesture of his hand, "We have arrived at long last."

He swiftly climbed in twos and threes the dilapidated stone steps flanked by the badly maimed statues of guardian deities and, with some effort, pushed to open a tall gate whose blue-green paint was further peeled by the pelting rain.  The scarred stone pillar foundations, precarious brick walls, several dilapidated doors leading to phantom rooms with rotting wooden beams overhead mottled with moss and a thick layer of dust greeted them inside.

 Several Lighting flashes streaking in through wide gaps lit the hallway with a ghostly sheen. With the aid of a lamp, they made their way down the wide, empty, dark corridor as cobwebs frequently brushed against Nevetsecnuac’s face while the smells of mildew mixed with moldering earth assailed his nose.  Their footsteps sent an occasional pair of shining red eyes scurrying into the corner and the flashes of lightning sent writhing patches of carpet flowing into the wall.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu ambled to the rear of the house and descended a flight of stone steps to reach an eerie courtyard where ancient trees obscured the sky, and mist stirred the tall grass and rank vegetation. Badly corroded bronze columns lined the maze of pathways that was paved with stones of varied sizes.

Strangely enough though, the air here was laden with the fragrance of flowers, their sweet, exotic perfume conquering the musty and rank decaying matter that surrounded them. The snaking route, flanked by cassia trees, delivered them to the shores of a manufactured (man-made) lake.  Traversing a small, stone bridge they followed a zigzag path that led them through a garden of magnolia to a maze of fences which they twisted and turned, to get through.

 Holding onto a stone balustrade they mounted another flight of sandstone stairs, passed through a moon gate, and finally arrived at another set of buildings.  When Lu pushed open the door at the far end of the hall its creaking sound startled the principal inhabitant of the room; a large, male bat.  In greeting he flapped his wings and brushed their heads as he circled above them to disappear behind a wooden ceiling beam.

"He's harmless.” Lu reassured Svein (Nevetsecnuac). "I don't know why, but he prefers to share this space with me rather than mingle with his friends in the other rooms."

A cursory glance revealed to Nevetsecnuac a partially burned mahogany bed with its tattered quilt, small table, makeshift chair, camphor-wood chest and a pile of firewood in the corner.  These salvaged furnishings were all that afforded Lu any comfort here.

"It's not much, but it’s home.  Now, do not go feeling sorry for me." Lu admonished with good humor, surmising Svein's thoughts. "Its best we chuck (shed, discard) these wet things and hang them to dry, or we'll catch our death of cold."

As Nevetsecnuac made to comply, a sudden breeze, fragrant with orchid, jasmine, and musk, rushed into the room, making the flame on Lu's lamp quiver, almost extinguishing it.  Placing the lamp onto the table, Lu turned, "I hope you don't mind my frequent visitor?"

Nevetsecnuac’s response froze on his lips when he felt a silky cloth brush against him then a cold, invisible hand lightly caressed his cheek and gently stroked his hair. Checking his taut nerves, he inquired about the ghost's identity.

"I wish I knew, but she has never revealed her gracious countenance to me, nor has she favored me with a solitary word. I only feel her presence occasionally when I'm in here."

 He winked and added with a chuckle, "There's no cause for alarm, for she has not injured me thus far."

Nevetsecnuac smiled to cover his embarrassment and looked away. Suddenly his attention was caught by a scroll mounted on the far wall. Drawing near, he craned his neck and strained his eyes to read the verses, barely visible in the dim Light. Almost instantly he jerked his head back in amazement and his eyes misted. He had recognized a remarkably familiar calligraphy.

"His Lordship's words on loyalty are forever engraved on my heart and soul.” Lu proudly announced then went on to recite the verses straight from memory. "That scroll is the first and last thing I have greeted every day for the last nineteen years of my Life. It is a pity you are too young to have known the noble Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  Ah, but there is so much you don't know, so much that needs to be told."  Sighing he left Nevetsecnuac’s side to shake the quilt and then invited his guest to make himself comfortable.

Mechanically, Nevetsecnuac sat on the edge of the bed.  Oblivious to the dampness of the room which chilled him to the marrow, Nevetsecnuac lent an ear to the rain and incessant winds that moaned through the grove of tall cypresses outside. This, compounded with the plaintive shrilling of insects from their shelters inside created a lugubrious consonance that resembled the ghosts' lamentation and oppressed his soul into abysmal depths.  Hot tears welled up in his eyes as he vacantly stared at the small fire Lu had just constructed in a corner. The dancing flames recalled those of a remote cabin where a happy group had enjoyed a peaceful life.

Wrapped in mournful reflections as well, Lu pulled up the makeshift chair beside Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and sat quietly.

 "I wish I could offer you some tea, especially on a bitter night such as this.” he apologized, breaking the veil of silence between them.

"This used to be my favorite study", he said, gazing around him at the bare wood, "but all is gone now; the books, paintings, scrolls, the furnishings, even the...”  He dropped his head and lapsed into silence, loneliness gnawing at his heart despite his present companion.

Nevetsecnuac managed a few words of solace to lighten the mood.

A fleeting, polite smile brushed Lu's lips as he responded, "Please forgive me sir; you have not come all this way to be burdened with my troubles. I am obliged to you for your patience and understanding. Despite our vast age difference, you have been a receptive companion…. Still..."  Lu heaved a deep sigh; his features cast in melancholy as he knitted his brows and stared blankly into the distance. His soul in obvious torment, he fidgeted in his seat then jumped up in irritation and began pacing the room, muttering incomprehensible jargon to himself.

"How I do carry on like a madman!” shamefaced, he sat down again.  "Things have been bottled up in me for so long that...”  He looked up at Svein apologetically and, encouraged by the empathetic smile and understanding nod, he resumed. "Had I not been away at the time I, too, would have joined them and would not be here tonight, talking to you like this. Alas, everything in life is pre-ordained."  Once more he stalled, gazing vacantly at the far wall through the tears misting his eyes. "But it’s hard…And why, why did they have to perish so painfully? Why were they fated to suffer such torment?"

(END OF SECTION 2)

 


Friday, 24 January 2025

THE ASSASINS -SECTION 13

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 13


CROWN PRINCE LANGLEY

Asger (Stark), after a restless night’s sleep (repose), just before dawn quietly rose from his bed and after dressing exited the room. The last hot pot of Alec’s tea had been spiked, Asger knew that Alec would be dead to the world till noon, which gave them plenty of time to prepare.

Advancing, he quietly tapped at Svein’s door, then going over sat at his usual place by the fire.

Svein, anticipating his uncle’s desire, emerged outside shortly after, properly dressed and most eager to hear what Stark (Asger) had to say.

Stroking his beard with a thoughtful air, Asger signaled Svein to the chair before him.

"Svein, circumstances dictate that I now be frank with you. I am therefore well prepared to disclose all secrets, mysteries and unveil all truths that had until now, been kept from you.”  So saying, Asger rising, pseudo straitened (the creases of) his garments then abruptly falling on his knees, prostrated himself and addressing Svein in most dignified voice, proclaimed, "I, Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, Son of Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon hereby pay my respects to Your Royal Highness, sole surviving true Heir to the Throne of Wenjenkun, Prince Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir , may you live long and prosper!"

Nevetsecnuac, quickly overcoming his surprise, hastily stooped to raise his maternal uncle to his feet, “Please rise uncle, I should be bowing to you!”

When eventually, on Nevetsecnuac's insistence, the two finally regained their respective seats, the prince, in sincere and respectful tone, urged Lord Asger not to endow him with such honors.  "After twenty years of being nurtured and mentored (guided), living under your unstinting care as your nephew, I would be imbued in shame to my very core if I were to now receive your obsequies.  Please, Uncle, treat me as you always have.  Allow me the privilege of serving you, as your’ most grateful and devoted nephew. And please address me only by my name without the onerous title- a most undesirable and unwarranted feat (endeavor) at this remote milieu.”

Nevetsecnuac looked down as emotions choked the rest of his words; after brief, thoughtful reflection, he simply shook his head and said: “I can only guess at the enormity of sacrifices and long suffering you have endured on my behalf.  My only regret is that I have but one lifetime in which to repay your kindness."

Deeply touched by Nevetsecnuac's show of love and humility, Asger looked away, constraining   any expression of the intense and therefore inappropriate emotions from bursting forth; then perfectly composed, he leaned forward and affectionately placed his hand on Nevetsecnuac's shoulder. 

Nevetsecnuac in turn, looked up at him with eyes brimming with tears of gratitude mingling with affection and said: "Uncle, I am anxious to hear all, particularly the circumstances, of how and why I alone, have survived my immediate family's tragic fate?”

“Yes, the time has come for you to be apprised of it all.” Asger, nodding thoughtfully, acquiesced.  “Hmm, but I shall do my utmost, through tact, to spare you the worse of it, my dear boy, while imparting succinctly, all the pertinent details.”

 He then smoked his pipe for a spell as he deliberated on how best to begin. Every word had to be chosen with care to minimize (and not burgeon) the angst that was already tearing at Nevetsecnuac's heart and soul.

The following narrated data (recounted facts) oscillated naturally between past and present and in this gentle, yet somber tone Nevetsecnuac was informed of his true heritage:

That he was the only offspring of the 7th Prince Shon Alric Therran Valamir and Ingrit, the adapted daughter of Lord Wutenzar Zhon.  When Asger was ten years old, she’d become Asger’s loving little sister, a girl child of about six years old, who’d suffered abduction and amnesia at the age of five. The frail female child had been rescued from the clutches of death, just barely, one stormy afternoon, by Lord Wutenzar Zhon, while he was on his way to visit a close friend (a blood-brother), keen to oversee (manage) an urgent matter, in Korion.  She’d later been named Ingrit and lawfully adapted by Asger’s Lord father, when despite year’s intense investigation, her true lineage had remained a mystery. Asger thus, was not Nevetsecnuac’s (Svein’s) biological maternal uncle.

When Ingrit grew up and was 17 years old, by then an exquisite beauty, during an annual Royal hunting expedition, as the two children had accompanied Lord Zhon, she’d caught the eye of Prince Shon and the two had fallen deeply in love. A few years later, overcoming many obstacles, the loving pair had been happily married off and a year and a half later, they had Nevetsecnuac (Svein).

Asger then proceeded to relay succinctly, the subsequent, true version of state affairs at the time (politics), which had adversely shaped Nevetsecnuac’s benevolent grandfather's reign and instigated (caused) the altruistic (humane) Monarch's downfall.

"First there were the prolonged wars, lasting over a decade, with powerful neighbors like Julge to the north, Tunesar in the north-east, and Senje in the east. 

Then the cataclysmic natural disasters came to pass: the powerful earthquakes that leveled whole towns to rubble and floods that ravaged the river plains.  The already tottering economy was devastated, and the strength of the central government was greatly taxed.”

“This precarious time had, meanwhile, further empowered the rising influence of Grand Field Marshal Zakhertan  Yozdek , who’d lead an army of several million on successful campaigns against Julge and Tunesar and by doing so, restored our lost territories and pushed them back to more natural borders.  Zakhertan next had marched his army straight to Senje and annexed that kingdom.  The tribute and booty from these campaigns strengthened the treasury for a time and in due course augmented Field Marshal’s own popularity with both the people and the court.” Asger took a puff from his pipe, before resuming.

"In Imperial Capital Channing, the Inner Chancery, which was charged with the responsibility of presenting policy options to His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, was gradually taken over by the Yozdek aristocracy with the full support of Prime Minister Morvald and Grand Secretary Lu Therkan.   His Higness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir was gradually by then relegated to the status of a mere figurehead; lending an ear to rumors (false or fabricated accounts) he was opportunely alienated even from the Crown Prince Langley.  Prince Langley was well loved by the people and his peers; he was an upright, brilliant tactician and a fine warrior. Because of his sagacity (shrewdness) and farsightedness, he posed a real danger to the ambitious Yozdek clan. Time being ripe, Yozdek faction decided to first illuminate this threat; before they instigated their bold action and worked to underhandedly gain effective control of Wenjenkun .”

"At the time Crown Prince Langley, who excelled in archery and was very fond of hunting, whenever his responsibilities allowed him, he with a group of loyal childhood friends, I would say, two or three times a year, held an affable competition of hunt at the Royal Game Preserve (forested, high-altitude ambit, sphere, sanctuary) on the outskirts of the city. “

 On that fateful day, during the hunting trip, after having spotted a rare white stag, Prince Langley took off after it (in lightning speed) in full gallop, leaving the rest of the riders far behind, who had no hope of matching the speed of his fine stallion. “

“Now come to think of it, I believe Fourth Prince Ruen was among the party that day.  Nevertheless, when the stag dove into the depths of dense woodland, Prince Langley recklessly led his horse after him in hot pursuit.  By the time the rest of the hunting party reached the prince, they were horrified to discover him gasping his last breath, mumbling something about a huge snake raining   down on him, his head lying in a pool of blood and a trampled adder nearby testifying as to the events.  It was presumed that his frightened mount had bolted detecting the snake slithering on one of the branches overhead and had thrown the prince onto the sharp-edged rocks which littered the area.”

“Suspecting foul play some ardent friends (and courtiers) stayed behind to meticulously search the area, in the hope of collecting incriminating evidence or finding the culprit; but their concerted efforts provided them with only a torn piece of homespun cotton that inevitably led to nowhere.”

"The untimely death of the heir apparent consigned the aging Monarch to his bed, stricken with a malady of the heart.  Rumors circulated at the time claimed that His Highness' affliction was, in fact, induced by his own physicians, under the coercion of the Prime Minister."

"The Prime Minister Morvald that had been colluding with the Yozdek faction....  It is clear who’d been behind that scheme.” Nevetsecnuac grumbled.

Asger nodded thoughtfully. “You would think so, but certain findings later, rumors really, cast the suspicion on Third Prince Vidar instead.  Some claimed he was also involved in the conspiracy against the Crown Prince.  He apparently was under the assumption that he would be next in line to ascend to the throne."

 After clearing his throat Asger once more commenced with his narrative.  "Zakhertan  Yozdek, a national hero, returning from his victories with the borders secured and more lands added to the kingdom Wenjenkun, took advantage of the Monarch's indisposition and, relying on his immense popularity, laid siege to the Capital.  Moments after His Highness, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir passed away, while the Royal Family was still in shock and mourning by his bedside, Zakhertan  Yozdek marched unopposed into the palace and seized the throne.” 

“This self-proclaimed Emperor deeming his act, the Mandate of Heaven, in a move designed to consolidate his power, subsequently passed his first evil edict which placed the entire Imperial Clan of the true Monarch under the executioner's blade.  The newly appointed heir apparent Second Prince Tzen, as well as Third Prince Vidar, were murdered shortly afterwards along with subordinate Princes and members of the Royal House of Valamir."

Through misted eyes, Asger related how many had chosen to commit suicide to deny Zakhertan the pleasure of directing their demise.

"So, all, without exception, perished?” Nevetsecnuac murmured solemnly.

"Not all.” Asger rejoined (responded) desisting tears.

 "Fourth Prince Ruen had been inexplicably absent, Fifth Prince Guylar had sent his son, Wuke, in his place due to a lingering illness which made travel impossible, and your father, Seventh Prince Shon had fortuitously as well, been elsewhere at the time.”

"Fifth Prince Guylar had unavoidably suffered much at the hands of the Yozdek Clan.  Earlier still, Prime Minister Morvald and Third Prince Vidar had launched a vile scheme to repudiate Prince Guylar.  They renounced Guylar and his absence from court to the Old Monarch, claiming that he was not ailing, that his infirmity was shammed, (sickness faked) as cover for his planning a rebellion.  They accused him of having grown too overbearing and dangerously strong away from the keen eyes of the court and they lost no time in presenting fabricated proof of this claim.  They offered exaggerated numbers of the occasions Prince Guylar had failed to respond to a summons from the court, supposedly drawn from the palace records, and added to it reports of the prince’s arms buildup, necessary to repel the border tribes, altered in such a way to also make this appear most suspicious.”

“These potent innuendoes of Prince Guylar's alleged conspiracy to foment rebellion had evidently caused His Royal Highness to fly into a rage.  Guylar's son Wuke, upon his arrival at the capital, was immediately incarcerated and an officer of the court was dispatched with credentials and the Imperial Tally to affect the prince’s arrest.  Before the officer's arrival, however, Guylar was informed of his dangerous predicament and, gravely ill already, in his indignation hastened his end (chose to end his own life) by forsaking all medication.  Sadly, his wife, sons and daughters were all taken away to the Capital under arrest, where they arrived just in time to be executed by the new emperor Zakhertan  Yozdek."

"What about Fourth Prince Ruen?” Nevetsecnuac asked, hoping that at least one uncle had survived.

"I don't rightly know.” Asger confessed.  “Again, there were rumors, but I cannot attest to their validity (legitimacy).”

“I still would like to know.” Nevetsecnuac interposed.

"Keep in mind, what I am about to disclose is only a supposition.”  Asger warned.

 "Once, during an informal (gathering) feast, Zakhertan  Yozdek had allegedly boasted of killing the said Prince in a most gruesome manner, but, when prompted, he’d refused to divulge the details.  Since Prince Ruen has never been seen or heard from hence, many had concluded that the rumors had to have been based on the truth.  Great many however disputed this claim (claimed otherwise), stating that Prince Ruen a distinguished warrior, an eccentric sort and an ardent lover of adventure, who frequently under disguise traveled to the furthest frontier regions of the kingdom in search of new thrills, was on yet another such escapade. I cannot support or deny this.” Asger shook his head.

"I did not know the prince personally.” Asger hid his true dislike of this selfish, reckless Prince with this disclaimer.  What will it serve to dredge up the unpleasantness of the past, and strain Nevetsecnuac's already tenuous connection to his dead family?  Some things are better left unsaid. 

Left unspoken also was the violent clashes of Asger’s and Prince’s personalities, how they both had countless disagreements and oftentimes quarreled, in the end settling to a mutual avoidance of each other.

“Some claimed he was a brilliant scholar.” Asger grimly looked away for a spell. “And that Prince Ruen insisted on uncovering the true knowledge that lay, not with the institutions of learning, but in the remote mountains with the hermits.”

 Hah, that was a laugh!

 “Often seeking this lifestyle, he would be absent from the court and palace."

In truth, it was but an effective cover for his vile deeds.  Asger inwardly scoffed, but at the outset with an even tone he’d resumed with his narrative.

"So, when the sovereign fell ill during one of these sojourns, Prince Ruen could not be contacted and summoned to his deathbed.  To date no one has heard from the prince, so assumedly, he too perished, perhaps from the elements.” 

Nor do I care what happened to that faithless brute!  Asger dismissively waved his hand; then quickly changed the subject.

"Your father, Seventh Prince Shon, was a brilliant scholar with a retentive memory.  His kindly, circumspect and unassuming manner cloaked his political and military genius, and he avoided any contention for power.  Prince Shon was seen by the court as unmotivated, weak and rather obtuse and was largely ignored by all, both high and low.  Yet, when it came time to awaken the Old Monarch to the existing danger posed by the Yozdek Clan, it was he who spoke up first.  Others, even Crown Prince Langley who despised the Yozdeks and harbored long secret desires to sweep them out of power once he was enthroned, shrunk from saying anything.  Your father, even at the young age of sixteen, had the prescience, discernment and foresight to rightly predict the future outcome of things.

 With bold determination he forsook his disguise and, in a private audience, risked his father's anger to try to persuade him to guard against the Yozdek Clan and curb their core power or, failing that, abdicate his throne in favor of the Crown Prince.  The Monarch had quietly and patiently listened to all that Prince Shon had to say yet remained unconvinced.  After a brusque promise to consider the matter, he abruptly dismissed your father.”

"'I will be banished.’ was Prince Shon's solemn prediction to his Stuard Kenny (childhood friend and confidant) once he had reached his private quarters. ‘My father could not be swayed, and my words were no doubt well documented by the Yozdek spies for the Prime Minister Morvald's repudiation.  I grieve, not for my sake, but for the sake of the many others who will suffer at the hands of the Yozdeks.'" 

Nodding thoughtfully, Asger drew a long puff from his pipe before continuing the narrative.  "Yes, just as your father had foretold, Prime Minister Morvald and others of the Yozdek Clan thereafter conspired to slander the Seventh Prince Shon to the Monarch and the Crown Prince.  They alleged that Prince Shon, despite his young age, was harboring ulterior motives and high ambitions for himself in his desire for the Monarch to abdicate in favor of his heir at just the precise time when the country was beginning   to enjoy the peace and prosperity of Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir's benevolent rule.”

“Public orators with false accusations further incited the populace and the Monarch against The Seventh Prince Shon; once his father's favorite, the prince fell fast from His Highness’ grace.  Even Crown Prince Langley was duped and remonstrated angrily with his younger brother (from the same mother) Prince Shon, suspecting him of conspiracy and masking his selfish, wicked thoughts.  Under these circumstances it took very little for the prince to offend His Royal Highness again and, in angry reproach; two days after his nineteenth birthday, Prince Shon was stripped major part of his inherited land holdings (bequeathed to him from his then deceased mother, Princes Beatrice) and banished indefinitely to the far province of Chio.”

"Once he had traversed the jurisdiction of the Capital province there were several expected attempts on Prince Shon’s life.  After three years of failed attempts, however, the culprit Prime Minister Morvald, finally aborted his evil schemes and resolved to hold back until a more favorable time in future. In the interim, prince Shon encountering your mother Ingrit in a quiet ceremony had married his beloved.  Upon the sudden and unexpected demise of the Crown Prince Langley, His Majesty's heart softened once more, Prime Minister Morvald, speaking eloquently on the hidden virtues of the Seventh Prince Shon, persuaded His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir to grant amnesty to your father and recall him to the Capital for his brother's funeral. “

“The Yozdek family intended to gather all the Royal Family you see, for a swift and definite annihilation. You were only two months old when your father, always a filial son and brother, embarked with your mother and a large entourage on the return journey (to the Capital).  Since my mother was his elder sister, Prince Shon took this opportunity to have a brief visit with her; after which, my parents would have travelled alongside them to the Capital. “

“So, you are my true maternal cousin!” Nevetsecnuac took in a breath, suppressing his elation in the face of Asger’s humble demeanor and his as a matter-of-fact way of relating it.  Lord Asger was rather too preoccupied in his mind with the forthcoming subsequent facts. He halted briefly for another puff from his pipe.

“Had the way been unobstructed and their advance been conducted with normal speed they would have all reached the Palace at the time of the usurpation and succumbed to subsequent tragedy.  Mercifully however, Heaven had played its hand to foul the Yozdek family's plans, for unseasonable, torrential rains plagued the earth just after the Prince Shon and His Royal entourage crossed over the border into our province of Toren.  Given that the bridges ahead were all washed out and the roads turned into fast flowing rivers, Prince Shon was constrained to stay as our honored guest bit longer than anticipated, at least until the tempests had abated.”

"When the roads finally became passable (traversable), the day before we were all to depart, at the final gathering after repast that night, fortunately after the ladies had retired to their quarters, the news of Zakhertan  Yozdek's treachery reached us.  The eerie silence that permeated the large hall, before it erupted into loud ruckus (commotion, uproar), was quite unbelievable.”

“All our spirits, you see, had sunk into a gloom too deep to dispel, and tears welled up in our eyes; but Prince Shon with calm composure, quietly rose from his seat, walked down the steps and went outside.  Alone and away from prying eyes, gazing up at the sky, only then, he shed some silent tears. “

“This I can attest to since both my father and I had hastily followed the prince to outside.  Once there, however, reluctant to disturb His Highness, we had tactfully maintained our distance. Prince Shon, nevertheless once aware of our presence, quickly dried his eyes and coming over to my father the Prince said with dignity and humility, 'In a few days’ time, Lord Zhon, Zakhertan  Yozdek will be sending troops to apprehend us.  We rest entirely at your mercy.  You must choose whether to resist, or to hand us over to them, for even if I had been still empowered to do so, I could not, with clear conscience, ask you to risk all on our behalf.’”

"My father, advancing on his knees before the Prince Shon, cried, 'You have shamed me, Your Highness, with your doubting of my loyalty’, and then he indignantly reviled Zakhertan  Yozdek and swore to live and die at the Prince's side.  Kneeling beside my father I, also, intoned; 'Your Highness' fate shall be our own.'”

"His eyes filled with sadness, the Prince Shon bowed his head to thank father and me.  When we were all seated once more the prince said, 'This is proof that Heaven has not forsaken our Royal Family.  With your help, Lord Zhon, we may yet stand a chance.  I have well observed how your court's administration and the relationship between you and your vassals are all properly regulated. “

“There is no breach of convention or discipline here, hence your province is prospering, and its subjects are all loyal and contented.  You can depend on them to give full support to your decision to resist; however, one province cannot hold its own against an entire country.  Therefore, it is my contention that we urgently seek alliances with other Lords.' “

“Father concurred and immediately sent several envoys laden with rich gifts to our neighboring provinces urging them to join with us against a common enemy, but they were all too cowed to respond when their turn came.  Each shamefully bowed their head and quietly submitted to the new regime.”

“Lord Shonne Gulbrand happened to be gravely ill at this time; he was in fact at death’s door. He suspected later, and told me as much, that his own immediate family taking matters into their hands had deliberately incapacitated him, to prevent him from aligning   with us and to ensure their own survival.”

"Left on our own to defend our principles, with all exits from Toren now blockaded, father summoned his advisors for a War Council.  According to their recommendations, fortifications around Chenko city were reinforced, strong archers were placed on the cliffs on either side of the River Yulan to defend its narrow pass, and Nanku Pass was blocked.  Strongly entrenched, we stockpiled supplies in Chenko, preparing for the long siege.  By the time the Yozdek forces reached Toren, father's generals had rallied several thousand good fighting men to defend our province along with the peasant auxiliary.”

"Yozdek's forces attacked in strength, but our army put up a stiff resistance and drove them back.  Then a greater force was mobilized in the Capital under the command of Grand Marshal Gustav Erling and was ordered to destroy us entirely if we resisted. “

 

(END OF SECTION 13)

 

                                                                    ……


Saturday, 26 September 2015

Fortune and Loss

Fortune and Loss





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Long, long ago, in a somewhat inconsequential province, an honorable man Donato, finally recognized for his brilliance, gained a very illustrious post. From that day on, his guests swarmed to his residence. But when he was dismissed from office on a false charge his residence grew so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Only one had remained consistent in his friendship. This unassuming young man called Yorick, who was not particularly well off, still called on Donato and did his best to lift the other’s spirits.

After terrible months of hardship the real culprit was caught, Donato was exonerated and reinstated to his former prominence. His so called absentee friends wanted to call on Donato again.

He at once wrote some in bold letters on a placard and had it posted at the gate of his residence. The words clearly stated:

“The best time to determine the mettle of your friends is not when you are exalted but when you are humiliated.

“The best occasion to gauge the genuine sincerity of others’ attitudes is the moment you fall from grace and become pathetic.

“The best moment to uncover those who are earnest and true-hearted would be when one is deceased or, happily, when one escapes death.

“Welcome all who are as true of heart as Yorick.”



The End