Nevetsecnuac rising to his
feet, under the sparse light of the moon extended his search this way and that
to determine the angle, width and depth of the pit; he subsequently, tested the
stability (soundness) of the encircling walls as his palms and fingers
carefully pushed or prodded for that anticipated (planned) future climb. In the
end the outcome of his findings (investigation) had proven bit disheartening. It would
be nearly impossible, a most daunting task, to scale the precarious walls without
any outside help. The structure was a
marvel of engineering, designed such that it deterred any means of escape. Even if these unfortunate victims had, with
incredible agility, been able to stack up vertically, without the right
versatility the acrobatics would have been sill rendered fruitless, if not,
hastened them to their death.
The question now remained
whether Nevetsecnuac could succeed alone (single-handed) where, jointly all
these trapped wretches, had failed.
 |
| 01- NEVETSECNUAC ANALYSING THE PIT |
“It would be a challenging feat;” Nevetsecnuac pensively looked up at the sporadically
visible moon at the night’s sky, as the coy moon intermittently peeked out from
the clouds: “but certainly not impossible.”
He with a sly grin, tapped (rapped) his chin, having already conceived
(concocted) a plausible plan.
Subsequently, getting right to work, he first cleared the ground of any
dangerous debris and, utilizing the available means setting the stage for his astute
engineering feats that would generate constructive outcome, he next proceeded
with the unnerving and relentless climb.
Even then he slid back few times, losing some ground (of the ascent) when
the walls of the structure had abruptly collapsed or unexpectedly caved
in. Nevertheless, undeterred by these
setbacks, he’d eventually succeeded in reaching the midway point, though the
worst traps were yet to come.
Precariously clinging to the protruding rocks, with his free hand he dug
up the exposed tips of hardy roots that had overtime, fortunately, had extended
(grown) thus far; taking hold of these for anchorage, he nimbly (dexterously) overstepped
the sharp cutting edges imbedded in the next layer then, agilely hauled his
body upwards towards the seemingly unreachable mouth of the pit.
When he finally emerged
outside, thankful that the moon had just then taken refuge behind some dark clouds,
he squatted and regulated his breathing.
His thoughts, however, unwarranted,
steered to the trapped victims within the terrible pit.
Who were they, to be so brutally imprisoned in an open
grave, that they also warranted such elaborate traps? Why hadn't they been simply
killed, then disposed of in shallower pits, holes, or crevices, likewise
others, with much less trouble?
What
circumstance necessitated their slow, spiteful deaths? And what of those
remnants; the shattered beams, the broken pieces of earthenware that at one
time must have held provisions, the corroded pewter jug.
“Now, there's the real culprit! “Nevetsecnuac
sullenly (morosely) shook his head.
The exposed evidence, all too clearly, had shown that
it had once contained a certain, tainted wine. There were some
unmistakable traces of its permanent, unmistakable odor left on the inner rim.
Nevetsecnuac knew all too
well, that this was the worst kind of deadly insect's poison, one that
paralyzes the intended victims and, causes a prolonged, weeks, sometimes months
of, lingering, excruciatingly painful death.
“Since the effects are not immediate and do not
manifest themselves until sometime later, it must mean that some vital
information, or something of equal importance, had to be extracted from the
prisoners. They were fed false hope
before the final treachery came to light.” As he
absentmindedly reflected, his hand checked for the key. Relieved to see that he had not lost it in
the climb, he grimaced wryly, “Perhaps,
one day, it will prove instrumental in unraveling this mystery for me but, for
the time being, I best deal with this more pressing matter.”
Wishing to examine at
first hand the point of the road that was being so closely guarded, a point he
would be forced to traverse before long, Nevetsecnuac stealthily advanced
towards the sentries.
“Hmm, it’s an ideal spot for an ambush.” Nevetsecnuac,
after scrutiny, thoughtfully nodded. For not only did the monitored road lie
perfectly sandwiched between two hills, (it cut through uncompromising cliffs,)
but also, strategically balanced rocks on their crests could, in an instant, be
dislodged to trap any prey, leaving no option for retreat or advance. In the worst-case scenario, the intended
target could be annihilated altogether by the properly timed avalanche.
“He…”
Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried, recalling Deizvor ' reference to the one they
awaited.
“All this is deemed necessary to trap but one man. Fradel
Rurik Korvald, Me? …Surely not. Perhaps it’s some well-guarded, despised
official.” Though he knew better.
Suddenly, another equally poignant
question intruded into his mind. “But
who’s behind all this… Whose command are they following?”
His curiosity piqued,
Nevetsecnuac sought to learn more and so hazarded to eavesdrop on the sentries.
 |
| 02- GUARDS- SENTRIES |
Unfortunately, their idle chatter led to
nothing specific or useful. Since it
would be imprudent to confront them now, Nevetsecnuac turned his attention
instead in the direction of the just then manifest thin coil of smoke. His eyes
trailing it, before it was promptly extinguished, at once caught a furtive
(stealthy) movement at the mouth of a yawning cave, well tucked in the crevice
of the next rising hill. “Splendid, “Nevetsecnuac
retreated, edging away from the sentries to further reconnaissance.
Following a beeline, he
crept swiftly but stealthily towards the dark cave, his eyes straining to catch
the subtlest movement, his keen ears registering the minutest of sounds. As the incessant, howling winds drove the
laden clouds away to the east, the Earth was illuminated periodically again by
the teasing, silver rays of the full moon. Taking special care with cover at
such times, Nevetsecnuac eventually halted in-close-proximity to the cave's
mouth; he squatted and then pressed his ear to the ground. From the reverberations he speculated that
more than a dozen horses and well-armed men were stationed within. The cave was undoubtedly large enough to hold
them all, along with a running underground stream.
“What would necessitate such force?” With a puzzled expression, he inwardly queried. Intuitively feeling its importance to him, however,
his pulse quickened with excitement and in anticipation of resolving
(unravelling) this new, intriguing enigma.
By now the wind had spent
its fury and, as the last leg of twirling debris settled lazily about,
Nevetsecnuac gazed up at the dark canopy speckled with brilliant, twinkling
stars hosting the moon. He eyed the heavily armed, formidable-looking sentry, well
concealed, virulently guarding the entrance of the cave, and then deliberated
on his next, viable course of action. Before Nevetsecnuac could act on it,
however, two officious looking men suddenly emerged from the cave. Crawling nearer still, Nevetsecnuac looked
about sharply and perked up his ears to eavesdrop.
The bearded one, who was
addressed as 'Commander', had just dispensed his brief instructions to the
guards when, noting that the sky had cleared and the wind had tapered down to a
pleasant breeze, turned to the officer at his side and proposed, "Would
you like to accompany me on a bit of a walk for some fresh air,
Lieutenant?"
"I'm at your
disposal, sir." the other immediately responded.
Nevetsecnuac, who could
not have asked for a better opportunity, turned his attention away from the sly
grinning guards and trailed (tailed) the two officers as they strolled to a
distant scenic spot.
The Commander and his
chief officer, confident they had reached beyond the guards' hearing range,
finding a suitable spot, comfortably seated themselves on a huge, smooth
boulder. They were soon engrossed in a
serious whispered conversation.
 |
| 03- COMMANDER ZHADOL AND HIS LIEUTENANT YENNIC |
Quite undetected,
Nevetsecnuac crept quietly to the nearest cover then, scaling an ancient tree,
perched himself on a high branch that loomed within earshot. He strained his ears to overhear the subject
of their sudden heated exchange.
"Sir," the stout
Lieutenant adamantly addressed the bearded Commander, "how reliable is
this sorcerer Dwengzur, anyhow? Has he
never erred in his predictions? I fear
His Excellency may be making a fatal error in trusting him. I mean, what we really know of him, other
than that he's a native of that cursed country Korion."
“Again, Korion…” Nevetsecnuac's attention was piqued.
Narrowing his eyes, he mused, “That's Zonar Kuntzu's Country; most curious
indeed!” However, feeling that it
was too premature to speculate, he again lent an ear to the Lieutenant.
"I've met others from
that State he claims to be from, but they are nothing at all like him.”
“He doesn't even speak
with the same dialect. Moreover, until five months ago, he was virtually
unknown to us. Foreigner that he is, how
could he so quickly, so effectively have penetrated essential layers of
security and, despite his ungainly presence, have wormed his way into Her
Ladyship's good graces? It’s baffling,
to say the least, how he's been elevated to such a position of trust that, ostensibly,
he's even won the tolerance of His Royal Highness."
"As I understand
it," the Commander spoke slowly and thoughtfully, "he gained his
audience through Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren's Office."
"So, that's it! He's another one of his recruits, then. I should have suspected as much!" The Lieutenant gritted his teeth.
Then, with puzzlement on
his face, the Lieutenant looked up and asked, "How is it then, His
Excellency (Eunuch) Egil Viggoaries, still trusts him and, puts so much
credence in all those preposterous predictions of his?"
"You don't
understand." The Commander
grimaced.
"Things are never what they seem. Though he has gained the patronage of the
Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and still more, his trust, in fact” Tensing up,
he abruptly broke off, but his hesitation lasted but a moment.
When he (turned) reverted his soft gaze back
to his Lieutenant, he had already resolved his dilemma and was determined to
confide this latest bit of privileged information to the other.
All the same, he could not
resist teasing, "I may be breaching serious security protocol by telling
you this but, after all we've been to each other, and I think I can trust
you."
"You offend me
greatly, sir, with your doubt!" The
cool retort spoke volumes.
Since the Lieutenant's
voice had dropped, the rest of what he said was inaudible to Nevetsecnuac, but
it did have an impact on the Commander, none the less.
Enough, in fact, to cause
the older man to relent, "It wasn't meant to be” Turning, the Commander
affectionately clapped his Lieutenant on the shoulder.
"Come on now, Yennic. Would I be here if I did not trust you
implicitly? Would I have even broached
the subject if I didn't intend on telling you the rest? How often have I confided in you in the
past? You already know most, if not all,
what I've already been told in confidence.
You shouldn't take it like that; you have no cause to. I just wanted to, maybe for the benefit of us
all, stress the importance of confidentiality.
This knowledge was revealed only to the twelve of us in his
coterie. Should it come to light
prematurely it will prove most disastrous, to say the least, and undermine all
our efforts. Don't think that our deaths
will be swift afterwards, either. I hope
I've made myself perfectly clear, for it’s imperative that you don't breathe a
word of it to anyone, not even to your immediate family, or even to the other
members of your clique. Can I have your
word on this?"
Though Lieutenant Yennic
was thoroughly piqued at the Commander for his gentle insistence, he knew that
he could extract more by subtle means so, staying his malicious, cynical brash
response and instead nodded with understanding and promised in a sincere tone,
"Yes, Zhadol. My lips, as always,
are sealed. Now, what is this great
secret of yours?"
Though Nevetsecnuac
seriously doubted Yennic's outward sincerity, Commander Zhadol, without a
qualm, leaned forward at once to disclose the secret.
Before he had the chance
to speak, however, Yennic interceded wryly, "Are you now going to tell me
that Dwengzur, contrary to all appearances, is, in fact, a loyal vassal of His
Excellency Egil Viggoaries and owes his foremost loyalty to him, and not the
Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren.”
“Furthermore, that the
sorcerer is inveigling himself into Lamont Gudaren’s good graces, as ordered,
and shamming subservience in order to strengthen Egil Viggoaries’s hand?"
"That's it in a
nutshell." the Commander concurred bluntly, masking his annoyance.
"I wonder just how
much it cost His Excellency to buy out his so-called loyal services."
Yennic sneered.
"You're wrong
there." Zhadol grimaced. "His
kind can never be bought. They have no
use for money or any other worldly goods that would impinge on their unfettered
lives. No, something else binds him to
Egil Viggoaries. As I understand it, he
owes his life to His Excellency and something else too, something even more
important. Unfortunately, even I am left
in the dark about this."
When the Lieutenant cast a doubtful glance at
him, Commander Zhadol reasserted, "I swear, I don't know but, since he
interests you so, let me tell you more about this sorcerer." Winking at Yennic, he continued, "Now
Dwengzur is notably different from other sorcerers because, as I have been
briefed, he belongs to an ancient, nomadic, tribal race that dwells in the
remotest, most mountainous regions of Korion, shunning all contact with
civilization. It has been said that
historical persecution has caused them to adopt this way of life. Therefore, it’s my contention that he is a
renegade, but why should we speculate … Anyhow, this race is both feared and
revered by the Korionese.
Why?" He paused for dramatic
effect and to augment Yennic's curiosity.
 |
| 04- DWENGZU'S RACE IN KORION |
"It’s because each
one is endowed with special, supernatural powers. They are born clairvoyant and raised
collectively. They are roundly educated
in astrology, geomancy and, from an early age, are taught the ancient, secret
spells and incantations by the designated elders of the tribe. These ruling elderly Chiefs (that make up the
core council) are reported to have extended their lives to least, seven hundred
years. The tribe's average life span,
you see, is believed to exceed four hundred years. This prized information is passed from
generation to generation by word of mouth since nothing is recorded in writing
on the off chance that it will fall into outsider's hands and be misused, with
disastrous consequences.
"By the age of eight
they possess many extraordinary abilities and can perform mind boggling tricks
and are accredited with the innate ability to affect weather patterns. They have never been known to suffer from any
human ailments. Individuality is frowned
on by the tribe and they are not allowed to keep any personal artifacts.
“They are taught to
consider themselves part of the collective unit and, when they refer to
themselves, it is always in the plural; 'we would like to', 'that pleases us'
and so forth. Oh, and this should
interest you, they never marry. It is
not an accepted institution with them, as the women and men are also considered
as property of the group. They fornicate
once every thirty years in an elaborate public ceremony, never twice to the
same mate and never within their kinship group solely for the reason of
perpetuating themselves."
"You make him sound
like an Immortal." Yennic scoffed contemptuously. "And just who perpetuated this hearsay,
Dwengzur?"
"At first I shared
your skepticism," Zhadol smiled condescendingly then shook his head,
"but no longer, not after what I'd witnessed during our secret
gathering. After a remarkable
demonstration of his powers, we became converts, one and all.
"For instance, when
Dwengzur asked to be decapitated, Egil Viggoaries obliged with pleasure. Then afterwards, the headless body rose from
the ground, walked right over to where the severed head had fallen, picked it
up and aligned it perfectly back on the neck.
The wound fused right in front of our astonished eyes, and, within
seconds, he became whole again; a living, breathing man. No ordinary man, obviously."
The hair on the nape of
Nevetsecnuac's neck rose when he heard this, and he felt an unmistakable knot
in his stomach. “Was it pure coincidence?” He
closed his eyes for a moment to dispel all illogical thoughts.
"It’s a common
hypnotic trick, nothing more."
"It was no illusion,
I tell you." The Commander irately
insisted, standing his ground, but his voice lacked total conviction. Looking past Yennic, he shook his head to
quickly purge the seeds of doubt that had been planted in his mind. “Sorcerer’s
subsequent trick was equally amazing. This time he, after having received the slight
nod (permission) from Egil Viggoaries, simply wielded his sword in lightning
speed and claimed the head of the recruit Torrez, who just happened to be
innocently standing by at close proximity to Dwengzur.
 |
| 05- SORCERER DWENGZUR |
Holding it up high for
everyone to see, he then faced the head and charged him with duplicity and a minor
fraction, probably a fabricated one; but it was nevertheless enough to seal his
fate. The head though reluctantly, responded as if living, breathing thing and
confessed to everything. Afterwards, he simply blew a fiery breath at the face,
and the decapitated head was instantly reduced to ash.”
"A talking head…?
Surely you were all mesmerized." Nevetsecnuac heard Yennic, just then,
sneering with arrogant cynicism.
"Yet, according to you, he bends
submissively to His Excellency's will.
Why should he if he possesses such powers? I ask you, what greater intimidation is there
than death? Why not admit that you were
all duped by his masterful trickery?" Yennic unrelentingly goaded the
Commander. Yennic hoped that, if he got
him all fired up, Zhadol would get careless.
"Yes, he does bend to
Egil Viggoaries's will, for I've seen it.
I'd attest to the truth of that."
Commander Zhadol responded, irritated, his face flushed red and his eyes
wide with anger. He was unwittingly
playing right into Lieutenant's hand.
His voice increased slightly in intensity as he added, "And
furthermore, he responds without a qualm."
“Like you.” Nevetsecnuac, perched on the tree branch, musing grimaced.
"I confess that
aspect has baffled me also. What's more
Dwengzur's obedience stems clearly out of fear.
I wonder what hold Egil Viggoaries has on him. “
(END OF SECTION 10)
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