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)
