STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 9

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 9

03- KUER AND HIS WIFE LUOKIL

Dokurak most thankful of the fact he had a sympathetic ear, with a secret purpose in mind had ceaselessly unburdened his heart: “Beginning a new life with only a measly pittance I had concealed from the authorities, I first purchased some worthless piece of land and after initializing irrigation, proper crop rotation and a great deal of work, managed to turn my luck around.  Soon the land began to yield a good return, enough at least for me to properly care for my children. “Dokurak, falling silent for a spell, looked down.

“Unfortunately, the former owner who’d sold the land to me for a song now regretted his hasty decision; additionally, most envious of me for the beget bounty (profits), have harbored a personal grudge against me.  That was the precursor of my fresh troubles.” Dokurek pensively shook his head.

"When my eventual pardon arrived, and I was allowed to settle permanently in this region I ignored my neighbor’s envy and animosity and falsely thought that the past had finally been put safely behind me. For a short while things looked promising. My sons, meanwhile, going against my will and ignoring my good counsel, chose not the agrarian (farming, rural) livelihood (occupation), but that of erudite (literate).  Then again, there was a measure of leniency in the law and a few good posts and desirable government positions were once again being made available to promising learnt (scholarly) candidates.    Gradually I relaxed my vigilance and even allowed my heart the joyful pride when one of my sons, Kuer, was promoted to a good position in the Magistrate's office.”

"How was I to know?  How could I phantom that some unscrupulous, grasping officials would, within a decade, instigate yet another onslaught against the Literate?  You see, in their greed, they had come to realize the immense profits that could be reaped from the land and property holdings of the successful intellectuals (scholars).”

"Zakhertan Yozdek, a military man and an autocratic landholder, had, despite his outward policies of leniency, still harbored in the crux of his being a deep contempt for the scholars because of their analytical (logical, critical) way of thinking and their accrued (amassed, retained in mind) vast reservoirs of knowledge of past rulers.  Meanwhile the extensive military campaigns he had waged to secure his throne and Wenjenkun’s borders had nearly depleted the treasury.  The Office of Revenue was already hard pressed to come up with additional sums via (by means of) burdening taxes and forced labor, and besides, extra funds were now needed for the new campaign against Korion.

“It took only a little persuasion and a staged incident by the new Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren, to make the literati into scapegoats once more.  Thus, the holdings of these affluent families were laid open for pillage and were sold at auction once the unfortunates had been blamed for the discontent, turmoil and hardships that plagued the country.”

Dokurak suddenly stopped talking and after his long, dubious look at Fradel, his voice tinged with jealousy, he said:

“You have really been most fortunate, Serek Vern (Fradel Rurik Korvald), to have escaped these disasters… these genocides.  I wish that I had been empowered to do the same for my sons.  You see, I had the foresight; right at the beginning of it all, I had read the signs and predicted the outcome. The ill-fate hovering at cusp (verge, edge), over the horizon, had left all too prevalent signs for anyone intelligent or discerning, to be wary.  Foolishly, though, I imagined that my pardon and the quiet, model (exemplary) life I had led, would exempt me and my two sons from all of this impending (looming) catastrophe” Dokurek shook his head then sullenly bit the corner of his lip.

"My second mistake was to place too great a store in my influential friends and the Magistrate that had mentored Kuer.  I could not envision that they, too, would collude with my enemies and turn on me for a share of the gain.  Of that, I am sure.  That oversight, unfortunately, was my gravest mistake and for years I've been eaten alive inside, bit by slow bit, by the burden of regret I've carried in my heart.” Dokuek desisting tears, wrung his hands.

"My heart aches so sorely (agonizingly) whenever I think of my two boys…my poor, innocent boys!  When the disaster fell Kuer had been married two years and, what's more, his beautiful, virtuous wife, Luokil, was carrying my grandson. “

"But alas, my world once more collapsed when Kuer and Ruek were arrested and taken away in chains.  I knew that the charges brought against them were pure fabrication, that there was no solid evidence at all to convict them on, so I immediately dispensed generous sums in bribing the right officials trying to buy justice and extricate my sons from (false) blame. “

 “All my efforts were in vain, however, for they wanted it all.  My property was confiscated in the blink of an eye and sold for the state's gain to the very same people who had laid the false charges against us.  I was again, shortly after,  reduced to a beggar's state.”

“Kuer was well liked and had countless influential friends but none; none dared to speak up on his behalf when...” Dokurek, abruptly stopping,  bit hard the corner of his lip; anger and despair registering in his pupils, he looked yet again  in the direction of the large mount, quite oblivious of the trickling blood that slowly made its way down his chin.

"You can't imagine the anguish I felt at seeing my boys, as they were dragged mercilessly down the street in chains, then …. Then… buried alive under that accursed big mound." Dokurek swallowed and pointed.

"But not a whimper escaped their lips.  My heroic sons!  I would have ended my own miserable existence right then and there, but I summoned all my courage to live on, enduring misery and humiliation in order to care for my unborn grandson.” Dokurek swallowed hard, and eyes brimming with tears, he dismally (gloomily) shook his head.

“Alas, as cruel fate is, he and his mother both died in childbirth. She went into labor soon after she had witnessed her husband's murder, you see."  Pointing to the two smaller mounds under the weeping willow tree, adjacent to the big mound, Dokurek lamented in a choked voice, "They lie there, close to my son Kuer and Ruek.  I cared for their graves all this time and offered continuous prayers for their comfortable existence in the afterlife.  Now I'm old, too old and too feeble to be of much use to anyone.  I would have joined them long ago, but I have not a soul to count on to bury these old bones and I have nothing left to barter with."  He buried his head in his hands.

"Oh, all those years, how could I have been so foolish? How could I have been so utterly beguiled?” He lamented. “It’s taken me a lifetime to see the error of my ways.  My eyes are finally opened. But what good is all that now? If only I’d listened to my younger brother’s words for, he was right all along, right about a lot of things.  I’m filled with endless remorse that eats at my soul?”

“Still Heaven, it seems, has at long last taken pity on me."  Dokurek abruptly looked up, smiling wryly and, with the back of his hand, wiped away the deluge of tears that soaked his pallid cheeks and neck.

 "For here you are … Good sir, can I impose on you, can I rely on your compassion and good graces to perhaps trouble you, to do me this one last great favor?"

Fradel was nonplused by Dokurek's imploring gaze and, understanding his meaning, frowned.  "I shall not be party to your murder sir.  Surely you have many long years still ahead.  Do not despair.  You have persevered this long, undergone so much; perhaps an emancipated future..."

Before Fradel could finish the old man had flashed a blade he had concealed deep within the folds of his rags.  With a swiftness that belied his age, giving Fradel no chance to move, Dokurek buried the knife hilt-deep into his chest. But missing his heart just barely, he lived long enough to still implore Serek (Fradel).

"I do not deserve your kindness, sir. Ugg…. Still, I know you will not disappoint me.  Far too long have I endured this loneliness, burdensome guilt and unbearable heartache?  I make no excuses now and accept full blame for my past miserable life choices. Having paid some penance; let me embrace fate and join them now.  Please, pray that we all find peace in the… afterlife." He gasped his last breath and, (blood oozing from his mouth,) was no more.

Fradel had done the right thing by Dokurek and, although he had buried the old man's body in a mound next to his grandson and daughter-in-law under the same willow, all rites duly carried out, he still carried away with him the pain of Dokurek’s misspent life.

 

                                                                                    ~

Fradel was from then on burdened with a series of fresh concerns.  The guilt ate at him to the crux of his heart: guilt for being spared, for having led a privileged life of ignorance while so many had perished.  Fradel now pondered: Had he (Fradel) the right to do what he planned?  Wouldn't his intended actions unleash yet another bout of purges resulting in blood baths and fresh persecution of the Literati? 

This was at the root of Fradel's dilemma as he rode away from the graves beside the ruined hut.

Fradel, tersely now, as if with a special understanding, nodded.  Yes, things being the way they are, whatever I do will have little bearing.  The outcome would invariably be the same.  So long as evil reigns (rule) supreme and corruption festers like locusts on this land, salvation will be a distant dream for everyone.

                                                                                          

(END OF SECTION 9)

                                                                                              ~

 

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 8

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 8

 DOKUREK'S WIFE KELI

Once again, seated across from Serek Vern (Fradel), Dokurek explained, "I did not take that precaution for my own sake, you understand.  I know that you trust them, but one can never fathom the depths of another man's heart."  The old man shrugged.

The possibility of his men being informants was unthinkable.  They'd been with Fradel as long as he could remember but, so as not to antagonize Dokurek, he stilled the protests on his tongue and let the old man collect his thoughts.

"All right, I suppose I should start with the scholar Taok Therkan.", Dokurek commenced.

Taok Therkan, Fradel learned, was a brilliant, prolific writer and a just minister.  While still in his teens Taok had summarized his political thoughts in several brilliant works that were then circulated among the literati and politicians alike, winning him both instant fame and a reputation for controversy.

“But then with the political shift, the freedom of speech, once widely enjoyed under the old regime, was the first casualty, first tenet to disappear under the rule of Zakhertan Yozdek.” Dokurek dismally shook his head. “But hey, I’m getting ahead of myself…. Let me see, yes, from the first day Taok Therkan had assumed office; he had fought uncompromisingly against corruption in the court, continued to do so, right up to his untimely end.”

“Earlier on, becoming acutely aware of the deep roots of the corruption and the manifest danger to the reigning monarch Taok had, against all friendly advice, sent in his memorial, to His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.  In it he strongly advocated positive reforms to be carried out in the government that would have curtailed the influence and power of certain military and civil officials and their cohorts among the dominant gentry.  Though he had carefully avoided using any names, a specific reference to a matter overseen by the office of the Minister of War had earned the good minister Taok the undying animosity of Ovan Kustan.”

“Minister of War Ovan Kustan was not a man to be crossed.  With the cooperation of the Prime Minister, Morvald, and the blessings of Field Marshall Zakhertan Yozdek, he used his powerful clique at court to accuse Taok Therkan of such heinous crimes that his instant execution was a certainty.  However, the benevolent and wise Majesty (Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir) favored Taok's integrity and suspected foul play.  His Highness ordered another independent, in-depth inquiry into the incident.  Unfortunately, the efforts of the investigators were obstructed from the start.  His Royal Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, in his wisdom, still suspected a conspiracy, even though no proof could be obtained that would substantiate his intuition and extricate Taok from blame.” 

“Taking into consideration Taok's invaluable service to His Highness and the State, the extreme penalty was hence averted; Taok Therkan was instead, demoted to the rank of Census Official and banished to the remote frontier province of Birgerchi.”

Dokurek’s father had played host to the good minister on his way into exile; during which time, Taok had left such an indelible impression on Dokurek’s younger brother Yutzu that he decided to follow a literati pursuit instead of a military calling.

In exile Taok had continued to serve his Monarch with unwavering loyally for seven more years. Birgerchi prospered and citizens enjoyed lasting peace following Taok’s precedent guidelines of not accepting any bribes and benefiting from Taok’s expanded administrative obligations to run a judicious office. 

Zakhertan Yozdek, meanwhile, was amassing greater power through land acquisitions and secret military buildup, furthering his influence in Court through a strategic marriage to then Prime Minister Morvald’s younger sister Bera. 

“When news of the conspiracy by the Yozdek family to depose His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir reached Taok’s ear, he made several attempts to contact the Monarch and warn him of the impending danger.  All his attempts failed, however, due to the Therkan family's interference.  The dominant matriarch of the Therkan family opposing Taok’s ideals successfully intercepted or killed every courier and destroyed every warning letter Taok sent to the Royal household.  Taok was then forcibly incarcerated in his own home like a criminal and forbidden by the Therkan family to interact with any outsiders until Zakhertan Yozdek had completed his plans to depose HRH Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.”

“After an episode of illness from which he nearly died, Taok suddenly made a remarkable recovery and, under the very noses of his powerful family, began a subversive movement.  His followers began distributing his unsigned works, exposing the treachery and brutality of Zakhertan Yozdek, the widespread corruption at Court, the hypocritical rule and the evil oppression of the present regime.” 

“These works helped rally scholars throughout the country to the cause of the restoration of the old Dynasty.  The timing was exactly right to favor their cause.  Zakhertan Yozdek's main concern at this time was with the consolidation of power within the workings of the bureaucracy and with crushing the pockets of resistance that had sprung up under a few rebel Lords, such as Lord Shonne Gulbrand.  On top of this there emerged a growing threat from the Alvacon Tribe in the Northeast Territories.”

“The intellectual leaders of this insurgent group were in the midst of plotting a major armed rebellion when a disgruntled new officer, passed over for elevation from the lower ranks, turned informant and alerted Zakhertan Yozdek to the growing danger.  The Palace guards were immediately dispatched under the strictest secrecy to bring Taok Therkan back to the Capital where he would be charged with treason, tried and convicted.  Zakhertan Yozdek wanted the list of all the leaders in his hands and, the precise details of the planned uprising, information his informant could not provide, even when subjected to extreme torture.

Unfortunately, Taok had received word of his impending arrest too late, to realize an effective escape.  What little time he had left he used it, to commit all the incriminating documents to the fire and to send words to others to stay clear.  He then torched his study with himself still at his desk.  The leaping flames quickly spread to reduce the whole house to ashes (cinders) within a matter of minutes.”

“The infuriated Zakhertan Yozdek responded with a brutal purge.  Selecting the ruthless Black Band Guard Regiment, he set them on one of our history's most vengeful, ruthless campaigns of suppression ever.  Pockets of resistance were quickly quashed.  All too unsuspecting scholars were rounded up and, regardless of innocence or proof of rebellion, were buried, layer upon layer, quite systematically in mass graves.”

“More than twenty thousand people suspected of collaborating with the scholars were killed in public spectacles of torture, slow strangulation, flailing, beheading, or were simply burned tied to a pole in the marketplace.  This vicious purge continued for a year after Taok's death with unabated, unequivocal force.  The subsequent three years of this witch-hunt were so severe that they threw the country into chaos and threatened national security.”

"In that dark, oppressive time there was no end to the atrocities, indiscriminate killings and mass poisonings.  Under such pressure many implicated their colleagues, neighbors and even blood relatives in order to lighten their own sentence or extricate themselves from blame.  Some, taking the law into their own hands, murdered the suspected dissidents so as to avoid incrimination by association.  The purges were so severe, none escaped Zakhertan Yozdek’s wrath."  Dokurek dropped his head, "That was truly a dark, dark time in our history.  History is what gives men a sense of belonging.  History is what distinguishes man from the wild beasts who have no awareness, no conscious past.  My father preached that all the time, yet I would gladly expunge (erase) that period of history from my memory."

It had become clear to Fradel that Dokurek carried in the recesses of his heart some burden of guilt.

"But, even after a supposed return to normalcy, a Royal decree muted everyone from expressing the least discord or criticism of the policies and harsh laws imposed by the new regime.  The consequences of the minutest disobedience were met by public execution of the offender and the extermination of their families down to the fourth generation, followed by the confiscation of all properties to be sold by the state.  You know where I’m going with this?” He suddenly looked up but resumed his tirade.  “Meanwhile, anyone, regardless of age or gender harboring fugitives or possessing any inflammatory forbidden books or pamphlets were deemed guilty and, without benefit of trial, promptly executed on the spot. All the reminder of their family members was then rounded-up, tattooed on the face and sent in chains to serve a cruel sentence of hard labor for life.” He shook his head dismally.

“And many, many more restrictions were also put into place, but it would take me too long to list them all.  Suffice to say, this was the most dangerous time to have any enemies; for the least discord would lead to a false accusation with incriminating evidence planted to ensure imminent destruction.  A few select schools were allowed to function in government facilities, under the strictest supervision and constant monitoring to ensure adherence to state propaganda.” He fell silent for a while, pondering on a concern.  But then dismissed it all with a wave of a hand and continued on, relieved to be releasing some of this pent-up anger and concern to a sympathetic ear.

"Officials failing in their duty to immediately root out the suspected dissidents and subversives from their area faced spontaneous demotion or banishment to the remotest regions.  Did I say this already?”  But again, not waiting for an answer resumed his narrative. “So, we all did what was required of us without thinking, without questioning.  In our fear we misinterpreted signs, heard careless words and..."

With a strange, mad gleam in his eyes, Dokurek dropped his head to stare at his palms then agitatedly rubbed them over his pant legs.  He raised his head but fell abruptly silent again and looked down.  Fradel with sympathetic concern observed Dokurek’s sudden new distraction, a frayed cut in his trousers, which he absentmindedly dug his index finger in it.

 Checking himself a moment later, Dokurek looked up and explained bashfully, "You know, at one time I would not have considered wearing a pair of pants more than once.  But now..."  He shook his head then, after a momentary silence, continued, "I've done a lot of things of which I'm ashamed, but I hope you understand.  I did them so as to survive.  That, and as well, I was misguided.  Alas, I came to know the error of my way a bit too late to do anything about it." 

Fradel gave a sympathetic nod, refraining from making any rash judgments.

Dokurek appreciatively continued on, how his own younger brother, Yutzu, had been recruited to the doomed cause of Taok Therkan from the start.  Remarkably, Yutzu had survived the purges to continue the underground struggle and become one of the leaders of the “Red Bandanna Resistance”.

"Of course I had no way of knowing this,” Dokurek protested. 

"How could I when, for nearly a decade, we had lost touch?"  He threw his hands into the air in animated exasperation. 

"Since childhood we have always been at odds on every issue.  We'd never seen eye to eye, never agreed on anything, however trivial.  I was always the pragmatist; he was the idealist.”

 “After the death of our parents, one day we’d had a dreadful row on a concern, I cannot recall what.  Meanwhile, we had both uttered words that wounded deeply and one, we could not take back and so, I divided up the inheritance and we each went our separate ways.  As far as I was concerned, he was a dead man. I forbade my wife, the household staff and others to never ever mention his name.  How was I to know he'd still drag me into the cesspool of his own misfortune?”

“As it was the most sensible thing to do, I enlisted in Zakhertan Yozdek’s service.  I saw His Highness as our savior, a charismatic, strong leader, one our nation needed badly for strength and stability.  I erroneously blamed the Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir for all the ills of society and the rampant corruption at court.  I swallowed the whole propaganda that deemed Zuronghan a weak, ineffective ruler who deserved to be toppled.  What can I say?  I was beguiled.”

"Ah, but that’s not all. Soon after my recruitment, Zakhertan Yozdek recognized my talents and put me to good use.  I was a brilliant and promising engineer, you see.  You are the only one who knows this, but I was the builder of these Pitfalls.  One in particular, I believe, was used to trap a prominent, influential traitor, or perhaps a member of the Royal Family.  Of course I was not allowed to see who, nor did I wish to know, for all who were directly involved were put to death immediately afterwards.  Too much information can be detrimental to one's health, so I kept my nose out of it.”

"After it was all over and the struggle for power ended Zakhertan Yozdek, settled securely on his stolen throne, rewarded me generously for my contributions. Even as the country was being swept by the putrid tide of the purges, I'd kept my head above water and had remained secure in my privileged position, untouched by it all."

Dokurek shook his head, "But Yutzu, again surfaced as the bane of my Life.  I should have expected it, really, should have known that he'd be at the crux of it all.  Too late I'd learned he was a rebel.”

"Yes, it all came crushing down on my head that autumn day when my once secure and comfortable existence came to an abrupt end.  You see, I'd been away from home on official business for several weeks.  On my way back I suddenly realized that I'd neglected to get my wife the usual gift.  She'd be expecting one.  I loved her dearly and had no wish to disappoint her.”

“Way before this, during the time of spring festival, as we’d strolled the streets around Hekoler Temple she had taken a fancy to an antique jade pin in one of the pawn shops there, so I steered off course, to see if I could purchase it for her. “

“Oh, you can imagine my surprise when I discovered on sale there another piece of jewelry, a jewel encrusted necklace I had given my wife for her twentieth birthday.  But the pawnbroker's records were in order, after some serious negotiations he named a satisfactory sum for it.  Containing my fury, I purchased it back and rushed home to confront my wife with it.

"Would you believe it, there was another surprise waiting for me there, my cursed brother!  I needed no explanation; I knew then the cause of my wife's indiscretion.  I lashed out at him Like a mad dog, letting lose all those years of pent-up anger and disappointment.  During this heated exchange he shouted his defiant, treasonous tenets right to my face. Was I supposed to believe his embroidered yarn?  Supposedly, after his meeting with the other surviving leaders of the underground, he'd succumbed to an attack by bandits on his return journey.  Being stranded in this province without any means of getting back, he'd swallowed his pride and came to ask for my aid, though I suspect it was my wife's sympathies and help he was really after.  Surely, he would have gotten away with it too had I not returned home earlier than expected.”

"Overcoming my shock, livid, I was about to revile him further and threaten him with disclosure, just to scare him, mind you, when a noise outside distracted us both.  At once I rushed out to investigate but found no one there.  Nevertheless, I was terror-struck!  I knew the calamity or ruin this portended.  So, in frenzied fear of my life, I had him bound and gagged.”

"Seeing him again after such a long time, I confess, had rekindled within me the deep brotherly love I'd later supplanted with hate.  However different our views, he was still my little brother.  I paced the floor, to and for, in sheer panic while I pondered on the appropriate course of action.  I debated whether to turn him in to the authorities or to arrange for his escape.  I did not know just how much the spy had overheard and just how much this would implicate (incriminate) my family and my wife.  She had run off to her boudoir in tears before I could question her.”

“I was robbed of any decisive act however when the sudden presence of armed guards at my door was announced.  I was mortified when I learned that they already had the house surrounded and carried a warrant for the arrest of my brother and my wife.  And yes, I too was carried off to be charged (of this crime) as well, before the magistrate.  After a lengthy questioning and with some finagling I managed to establish my total innocence and loyal intentions, after all, Yutzu was already bound and gagged ready to be turned over to the authorities.”

“In the end it was my impeccable service record and the fact that I had been away and only just returned from a business trip that absolved me from blame.  Unfortunately, despite my best efforts and numerous bribes, I failed to extricate my wife from serious culpability.  In the end she was judged guilty of being an accomplice.”

"The informant who had turned us into the authorities had trailed my brother for some time and compiled serious, incriminating data.  Furthermore, his damning testimony against my wife could not be refuted.  She'd been quoted as saying that her sympathies lay with the insurgents.  She'd loudly reviled the Yozdek regime and promised my brother her full support.  All this was news to me.  I had no idea that she understood politics much less that she had so passionately harbored such treasonous views.  I felt utterly betrayed and, what's more, despaired for my children's fate.  I only hoped that they were too young to have been contaminated by their mother's misled loyalties.  It's a funny thing with women; they seem on the outset so mindless, so frivolous..."  Dokurek dropped his head and, after a moment's pause, swallowed hard, holding back the welling tears.

He continued in a choked voice, "I was the ignoramus of true facts and real politics.  I was the one who had been misinformed, a misled, utter fool.  My brother was tortured to death.  He suffered an agonizing end, and I was made to watch it all, watch to his final hour, when he was no longer in any recognizable human form, watch until his last, labored breath expired.  He died once but I’ve died a hundredfold.  For days thereafter the pain seared my soul. I could not forget his eyes; those accusing eyes have left such an indelible gash in my heart to this day.”

“To my further shame, I was even too frightened to claim his body for burial and left it there for them to dispose of in the usual way.  His mutilated corpse was fed to the wild dogs at the nearest crossroads.  Because of my cowardly act I had been spared, but I could only guess at the terrible fate that awaited Yutzu's wife, my niece and nephew.  I prayed that their end was swifter than his had been, as swift as that of my wife's corpse that was left impaled on a soldier's spear at the same crossroads.

"Despite my acquittal, I was not let off that easily.  In the end my entire property was confiscated, and I was banished to the remote frontier with my two sons to live out the remainder of our days.” 

 

(END OF SECTION 8)

                                                                                      ~

 

STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 5

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 5

 After a day’s riding Nevetsecnuac, wishing for a break chiefly out of concern for his mount steered his horse off the beaten path. Reaching a remote section well hidden behind a small rocky hill, he dismounted. 

He removed the saddle and let his horse free to cool off and forage on the scant grass by the stream. He splashed some water over his face to dispel the fatigue then, having something more urgent to do; he went over and sat down bracing his back against the thick truck of an ancient tree. At once he began cutting some strips of leather then carefully bound the hilt and sheath of the sword to conceal its identifying marks.  Task completed, only then did he become aware of the hunger clawing at his stomach and so consumed some dry rations. He closed his eyes for a brief respite, with his mind however, still reeling with concerns for the old man.

                                                                               ~

 Nevetsecnuac’s ensuing endless trek lasting several months took him over expansive rivers, vast lakes, soaring mountains, rolling hills and deep valleys.  Varied (diverse) temperatures (microclimate, weather) came and went as he traversed several provinces.  Then, still some distance from the Capital at dawn one day, he arrived at the periphery of the Wantherran Province.

Perhaps a lucky happenstance in life or a quirk of fate, a distinguished scholar named Fradel Rurik Korvald had also happened to be an-route to the Capital and had entered Wantherran province at the very same period as Nevetsecnuac.

The illustrious literati Fradel Rurik Korvald, the only son of Zukan Rurik Korvald, came from a long line of scholars in Birgershing District.  Fradel’s brilliance had shown at the early age of eight when his famed poem entitled 'Flight of Dawn’ reached the four corners of the Empire.  After the death of his beloved father, Zukan Rurik Korvald, Fradel had elected to live the life of a recluse in his mountain retreat. His works, his remarkable abilities had nevertheless spread among the elite classes in the Capital, winning him well deserved national acclaim as one of the poetic geniuses of the realm.

 Now, Zakhertan Yozdek, a military ruler, had never been particularly fond of poetry or even prose, nor had he been an ardent admirer or supporter of scholars. Far from it, he secretly despised them and used many cruel and ingenious means to underhandedly suppress them.  Age-old traditions are hard to break, however, and so six months prior a Royal summons had come from the Court ordering Fradel Rurik Korvald’s attendance at a landmark celebration at the Palace, thereby forcing the scholar out of seclusion. 

During the grueling months spent on the route to the Capital City, Fradel Rurik Korvald had traveled on horseback accompanied by his two manservants and a porter to carry his luggage. Fradel and his small entourage had, whenever possible, stayed at modest inns. Opting however for anonymity, they always registered under an assumed identity.

 At the last Inn Fradel had been warned by the kindly innkeeper to be on the lookout for bandits who plagued the area.

 After half a day's cautious advance, when they had encountered no danger, their apprehension gradually abated and, seeing a wooded area up ahead, Fradel now considered taking shelter for a brief respite from the midday heat.  Though it was early autumn, his heavy garments which he wore, in the absence of wind and clouds in the sky, had made this day, in particular, unbearably hot for him.

He was about to give an order to stop when he observed a stirring in the thick foliage up ahead.  "Watch out, there may be bandits over there!" Fradel had just finished yelling his warning to the servant up ahead when suddenly the very servant’s anguished scream pierced the air.  Next instant the servant wheeled around revealing an arrow buried (imbedded) deep in his chest and thud, dropped (from his horse) dead to the ground.  At that juncture another arrow whistled past the other servant’s ear to graze Fradel's arm.  Then all at once a large body of mounted men in a cloud of dust surged out of the woods to encircle them.

Terrified, Fradel Rurik Korvald veered his horse around in a desperate attempt to flee from this disastrous predicament as his other manservant, specially chosen for his skill in arms, brandishing his sword bravely stood his ground to obstruct the bandits’ charge towards his master. 

The porter, like the manservant, had at once abandoned the baggage and picked up his staff to join the fray.  Though they were both competent fighters, they proved no match for these seasoned warriors turned outlaw who cut them down effortlessly.

 Next instant, surrounded on all sides Fradel was pulled from his saddle by a hook and thrown face down on the ground.

While he remained pinned where he lay by some of the bandits’ staff and spears threateningly pricking his skin, some others were quickly dispatched by a shout to collect the scattered horses and baggage.

 The scar ridden, robust leader, Cobarkek, wishing to toy with his new prey, slowly alighted from his horse and came over to roughly turn Fradel over with his foot.  His boot now squarely planted on Fradel's chest and the blade firmly pressed against Fradel's neck, he grabbed at Fradel’s collar and shouted for him to produce his money and credentials which he assumed would be on his person. That is, if he wished to live.

 Fradel fought the instinct to gag with the latter’s foul breath on him and instead glared back defiantly.   The murderous intent in the bandit's eyes, his own demise of a foregone conclusion, had struck a stubborn chord in Fradel.  He next cursed the bandit leader and spat in his eye.  A fierce blow across his face with the hilt of the sword cut open Fradel's cheek and bloodied his handsome, fine features.  A second blow to the head rendered (made) Fradel almost unconscious.  As he was about to receive the third, and fatal blow a fierce cry from the distance froze the blood in the bandit chief's veins and stopped his arm in mid-swing.   All heads turned in the direction of this challenge to spot a solitary rider on a magnificent steed galloping towards them at lightning speed.

"Another fool comes to die!” the bandit chief, Cobarkek scoffed. 

The rest of the brigands, each vying to secure the mount for themselves, had surged forward in response to engage the foe without waiting for the leader's order.

"I will deal with you later.” Cobarkek spat at Fradel as he delivered another vicious blow right across Fradel’s head then, vaulting onto his horse, he broke into a headlong gallop to catch up to his men.

 Fradel lay there, his head swimming, eyes blurred, barely conscious and unable to move a limb; all the while writhing in agonizing pain.

"Leave the devil to me!” the Cobarkek shouted after the group, but the rest were already engaged in a fierce struggle with the newcomer.

"Are you tired of living?” one jibed with scorn as he swung his sword at the stranger’s neck but missed.

"No. Nor am I tired of purging (relieving) the earth of vermin like you!"  The stranger dodged the ensuing lightning strike.

The infuriated bandit gaped in surprise as his sword was knocked to the ground with his hand still attached. As the sword fell, the second in command, a huge, stout fellow, shouted, “I’ll teach you to talk so big!”, while he mounted a deadly assault from the opposite side.  Deftly blocking the powerful blow aimed at his head, the stranger at once reversed the attacker's momentum against him and same time inflicted a deep, mortal wound across the bandit’s chest.  As the spooked horse vaulted then galloped (dashed)in lightening speed through the encirclement of the bandits, the expired body of the bandit, meanwhile, had slipped down face down onto the dust.  The incredible agility with which the newcomer had dispatched these two formidable attackers struck fear in the rest of the bandit’s hearts but the superiority of their numbers and arms still gave them the bravado to foolishly keep on fighting.

Cobarkek growing impatient with his men’s inability to subdue this warrior, shouted his command for the rest to (abort fray) stand down and leave this foe for him to deal with alone.

"Meddling fool!” The leader Cobarkek’s face more crimson than a blazing coal, he spat on the ground.  "You'll regret the day you were born by the time I'm through with you!"

"You talk so grand,” the stranger smiled as he continued fighting. "Let's see if your skill is any match of your narcissistic boasts!"

The ensuing contest of arms between these two shook Heaven and Earth as the band of thieves lined the wayside to watch with respect and awe this stranger who could not be bested.  Others, however competent or formidable, had never survived more than one round with Cobarkek, but the stranger far outlasted the five deadly rounds and further, in a blink of an eye, forced Cobarkek on the defensive. 

Many of the spectators could not help recalling Cobarkek’s past: how a reckless outburst resulting in the murder of an influential, high official had forced their leader to flee his post as an arms instructor in the Imperial Army.  Later Cobarkek had gathered this band of skilled fighters to start a reign of terror in this far off District.  Under his training the marauding band had become a formidable force, invincible in combat. They had from then on, unobstructed, robbed travelers on this highway, burned and pillaged nearby villages, and extorted money from the wealthy citizens and officials of the neighboring towns. 

The Provincial government had been repeatedly rendered ineffective in suppressing this bane, let alone in bringing them to justice. 

Meanwhile, Cobarkek's savagery defied description.  Believing in magical powers and his own invincibility, he practiced primitive rituals where, at certain times, a selected victim's heart was consumed in a stew.

Besides coveting the stranger’s magnificent steed, Cobarkek now hungered after the power he would attain from devouring the stranger's heart and driven by this goal, fought harder still. But, after another five rounds with no advantage gained, he began to worry and signaled his men to join the fray.

 Confident in their numbers, each, determined to prove his worth, struck fiercely at the stranger from all sides. 

To their dismay however, they found those numbers rapidly dwindling and realized that, even if there were scores more like them, the stranger would not be subdued let alone bested.  In a short time, many forfeited their lives while the remainder soon realized that their leader, Cobarkek, was the one who was being toyed with.  The formidable warrior (no older than 20 years) fought with unequaled skill and strength.

 Finally, taking advantage of atypical break in Cobarkek’s defenses, the stranger dealt their leader the mortal blow: the blade of opponent’s exceptional sword cutting through the armour as if it was a tender shoot, it cleaved (slashed) a deep wound (injury) from shoulder to chest.  The bandit leader Cobarkek’s tendons (ligaments) of the sword-arm thus severely incapacitated, it lost its grip of the sword, meanwhile, Cobarkek loosing consciousness, his body with a thud fell off to the ground. The spooked war steed at that moment bolted and his hoofs clawing the air, next, trampling some underfoot, galloped straight through (scattering) the cordon of mounted men. 

The few daring bandits that had stayed, with dread gripping their souls, now also sought to escape this sure calamity; they therefore, scampered (darted) for their lives in all directions like panicking rats running from a fire.

The stranger did not pursue the fleeing unlawful (felonious) bunch; instead, he turned his steed around and secured the brown mare (stallion) belonging to the scholar Fradel which had not wandered too far off. He then rode over to the scholar, and reining his (mount) horse to a halt, leaped to the ground beside Fradel.

 Having regained consciousness a few minutes prior to Cobarkek's death, Fradel had forced himself to sit up to witness (his savior’s) the stranger’s brilliant feats of arms.

"Are you all right, sir?"

"I am, thanks to your benevolence, sir.” came Fradel's hearty reply.  As he struggled to his feet, he felt the stranger’s strong grip on his arm steadying him.

 Bowing ceremoniously, he expressed deep gratitude for other’s aid and profound admiration for his skill before formally introducing himself as Fradel Rurik Korvald. 

Seeing that his name stirred no reaction in the stranger, he asked, "I am indebted to my benefactor for saving my worthless life by your timely intervention.  May I know of your respected name, sir, so as to henceforth express my boundless gratitude?"

"You exalt me unnecessarily with this talk of gratitude.” The stranger dispersed his obligation with a gesture of his hand.

 "All I did was to extend meager assistance to a fellow traveler in dire straits." 

Nevetsecnuac bowed respectfully and introduced himself as Svein Therran (instead of Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir) then, noting the strain with which the scholar stood upright, offered to lend a hand where Fradel Rurik Korvald could reach the periphery of the woods for a prolonged rest in the shade.

"If you don't think me too presumptuous, may I ask where you hail from, sir?”

Fradel looked up as he sat comfortably under an ancient tree. 

When Svein showed no eagerness to reply, Fradel continued insistently, "Forgive my impudence, but I am very much moved by your gallantry, sir.”

“Another, however able or competent, would not have been so eager to rush into trouble for the sake of a mere stranger.  Alas,” the scholar sighed, "in these desperate and selfish times such acts of merit are confined only to the classical writings of old."

"I'll fetch some ointment to heal those cuts and bruises.” Nevetsecnuac rather impatiently started for his horse.  “Timely applied, it should leave no residue, marks, or scars on your face."  Reaching into a bundle secured to the saddle, he removed a small, blue bottle.  Returning to Fradel's side, he cut some strips and dabbed them with the poultice.

"Please excuse my rudeness,” Nevetsecnuac apologized holding out the strips, "but I am not at liberty to discuss details of my journey, not at this time."  Then in response to Fradel’s affirmative nod, quickly applied the strips to the face wounds.

"I quite understand.” Fradel winced as the medicine touched the open flesh.

 "Please forgive my inquisitiveness."  He then thanked Svein (Nevetsecnuac) for his troubles.

Just then the din of the carrion birds already crowded around the corpses and fighting among themselves as they tore strips off the dead flesh, drew both Fradel's and Nevetsecnuac 's attention.  The sight so distressed the scholar that, forgetting his own pain, he struggled to rise to his feet, to shoo them off.

"You're in no condition, sir.” Nevetsecnuac gently placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from rising.  "Please conserve your strength.  I'll attend their proper burial.  You may wish to say a few words afterwards before their graves."

"You are most kind, sir,” Fradel protested, "but they are my servants, and I would not dream of shunning my responsibility and imposing on you in this way."  Still, it was obvious that Fradel was in no condition to carry out his intention and, letting himself finally be persuaded, he leaned his back against the tree trunk.

 From this vantage point he observed with appreciation how competently Svein undertook his servant's burial, and then also took pains to cover the bodies of the bandits with rocks, earth and branches in order to spare them from being mauled by the disgruntled vultures (carryon-birds, crows) circling overhead. 

When the burial and prayer was over, Svein (Nevetsecnuac) counseled a quick departure to a more secure camp, in case the fleeing bandits returned with reinforcements. 

They gathered up the scholar's scattered luggage into a single bundle, which they slung onto Fradel's horse.  Since Fradel was recovered enough by now to ride, they lost no time in mounting up and quickly rode away.

 (END OF SECTION 5)

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 14

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 14

       After quenching his thirst with a cup of tea, Asger, resumed in somber tone, his recounting    of the past, historical events:

“As the invincible army commanded by  Grand Marshal Gustav Erling poised (encamped, waited) at the border, the newly arrived military Tribune,  crossed into our territory, and gaining an audience with my Lord father, read aloud the degree from the usurper Zakhertan Yozdek, a complete amnesty for my father, allowing him to retain his title, lands and forces as long as he declared fealty to the new regime and relinquished custody of the Prince and all the other royal members, including my mother and me, to them.  Word had already reached us by then, that the rest of the country had, without exception, been subjugated under Zakhertan  Yozdek's rule and that we, alone, stood in resistance.

“Father (Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon), spitting on the ground before the envoy, reviled the usurper Emperor Zakhertan  Yozdek to his face and, shaking his armored fist in the air, vowed to fight to the bitter end.  Behind him our army cheered loudly, and I could see the Tribune shiver in his boots.”

"Our subsequent struggle lasted half a year as the opposing sides clashed in several savage battles.  Greatly outnumbered, our forces were unfortunately at some point dislodged from Nanku Pass in an assault that also lost Gustav Erling three divisions; after a month, we were driven back to within the confines of the city walls.  There, at Chenko, we continued to fight unrelentingly, only too conscious of our restrictive circumstances.  Food and ordinance, to say nothing of manpower, were being dangerously depleted.  Then Grand Marshall Gustav Erling, having received reinforcements from the Capital, divided his army and laid a vigorous onslaught (offensive, blitz) on the city (Chenko) from all sides.”

"During this final confrontation Prince Shon was mortally wounded by a sniper's poisoned arrow fired from the enemy ranks.  Later that afternoon, knowing that the end was near and that the situation was hopeless, His Highness called me to his side.  There I knelt beside his deathbed as the prince, his breathing violent and parched, asked me to take his only son, Nevetsecnuac, to safety so that he and I may one day return and avenge the deaths of the Royal family.  'We are beyond salvation', His Highness sobbed, 'but let hope flourish elsewhere so that the crimes of Zakhertan  Yozdek against our family and nation will not go unpunished!'  My heart aflame, I swore that day to make this vengeance happen.”

"That night I bid my farewells to my beloved family and, with sixty able bodied, loyal guards and you, Prince Nevetsecnuac, in my arms, went through the secret tunnel to the camp outside the walls.  Securing additional mounts from the adversary, we vaulted into the saddles and fought our way out of the encirclement to safety.  Each of us was hand-picked to be a match for a hundred of the enemy and they were powerless to stop us.  Our war bellows (cries, roars) rent-open the sky and struck terror into their hearts.”

“Five days after our escape, Chenko fell, and the defenders were slaughtered to a man.  The city was brutally destroyed, and the fires raged for two months until all was looted, burned or razed to dust.”

Except for one, my infant son Ivar Marrog Zhon, Stark fell silent, as stab of pain constricted his heart and soul anew, grieving silently as always, for his son’s ensuing fate.  It would have been better had he died, but no, Zakhertan  Yozdek’s barbarism, his ruthlessness knows no bounds.  None is safe from his malice, his spiteful vindictiveness, certainly not an innocent child. But this too, Asger kept to himself.  Then after inhaling a few puffs from his pipe, he continued (resumed) in an even tone, pushing aside this unbidden, unwelcome ache from his mind and heart.

"Grand Marshall Gustav Erling, leaving a major part of the army under the command of his able subordinate, Lir Yussaf, with instructions to effect the final obliteration of the Zhon family stronghold, marched southwards with eight regiments to join up with our pursuers.  After fighting several pitched battles with them, we succeeded in crossing the border.  By then our numbers had been reduced to thirty-eight, while the enemy, despite the heavy casualties we had inflicted on them, still numbered in the thousands.  The massive size of their force lost them the maneuverability they needed to pursue us through the narrow, treacherous mountain shortcuts.  Since there existed several such trails, some converging while others came to a dead end, and we’d laid false tracks on many to confuse the enemy, we were able to ambush and overcome with ease all the scouts sent to trail us.” 

“A subsequent two-day brilliant tactical feat won us a decisive victory over a key obstacle, a strategic pass guarded by none other than the notorious Garrison Commander Mulnar.  Armed now with fresh mounts and much needed supplies we proceeded (advanced) in due haste towards the Jerken River, a natural barrier that marked the border of the next province.  Unfortunately, the massive bridge which provided safe passage over the dangerous rapids at this juncture lay in ruins. Our circumstance was now dire (ominous), for in a few days’ time Gustav Erling's forces would be upon us, meanwhile, we were stranded without any means of crossing to the other side.  Even if we felled trees and worked diligently through the night to construct a raft, we still lacked the skill needed to master the fast-flowing waters and treacherous rocks of this high-country river.  The closest crossing to us lay near a major provincial town where we could expect staunch opposition. As we vacillated, considering our options, three seemingly harmless fishermen emerged from the rushes and offered to ferry us across.  When they learned just who we were, however, they abandoned their sinister plan of robbing us in mid-stream and, with full cooperation, delivered both our small force and the horses across the river to safety just as Gustav Erling reached the opposite bank, a full two days ahead of where we had expected him to be.  Fearless of Gustav Erling's repercussions, these braves, brigand fishermen remained in sight of his forces, taunting them from the opposite bank.  With earth-shaking fury Grand Marshall Gustav Erling cursed and beat his officers, rushing them to make repairs to the bridge.”

"For the next five days our path skirted several hills, eventually leading us to higher, more precipitous ground where, taking refuge on a densely forested hilltop, we pitched camp and posted sentries.  The night sky was engulfed by heavy, burdened clouds that mantled the earth in darkness.  The blazing campfires below, however, allowed us to pinpoint the size and the position of our enemy, or so we thought.  During the night, while keeping more campfires lit than necessary, Gustav Erling, at the head of thirty-five crack contingents, had secretly rode off towards Kensu Pass to enlist the aid of that outpost's commander.”

"The following day's downpour, which started at dawn and lasted all day, hindered our advance but, unaware that we were galloping straight into the heart of danger, we relentlessly pushed on ahead, riding ceaselessly all day and resting only for a few hours at night.  We were aiming to widen the gap between us and our pursuers and reach Kensu Pass first.”

“When, finally, we neared it at dusk, I gave orders for the torches to be lit.  Ironically, after observing the surrounding topography, I had just finished commenting how, with only a few good men, this place could be set up as a prime ambush for Gustav Erling's army when, suddenly, the thunder of war drums filled the air around us and the sky was ignited into one gigantic sunburst by countless fire arrows showering down on our heads.  Hastily, I ordered the retreat, but it was already too late.  A battalion of infantry poured down from the slopes ahead and another group rushed up the gully from our right to block the way.  Rather than dividing our meager forces at this vulnerable spot, I ordered a charge to our left, where we could gain some high ground and mount a more effective resistance. “

“Just then however, another troop of cavalry charged forward from behind the knoll and blocked this avenue as well.  A mass of dancing torches in the south revealed the arrival of Gustav Erling's main force, eliminating any hope of withdrawal.  Completely hemmed in, our situation most grave, we stood our ground to fight.  Our forward line clashed, amid wild shouts, with theirs in a savage, bitter battle.  Our men ploughed fearlessly into the enemy ranks, wielding their weapons with lethal effect, they began to carve a way out through a wall of living men. Corpses piled high around us, littering the ground along which the blood flowed in rivers.  Yet, after an all-night pitched battle, we could still not break their thick encirclement.”

"Then at dawn, another downpour drenched us to the skin; the curtain (wall) of water was so dense that it obscured all vision.  Taking advantage of this, my remaining   men grouped around me in a protective phalanx and fought with magnificent valor to tear throughout the enemy's ranks.  Sowing confusion and bloody mayhem, they provided me and my two officers the means to get away, and then they closed ranks behind us to fight on, as if we were still with them."

Asger paused to puff on his pipe his urgent tears held back, as his heart in a knot (constricted), simply ached. Fighting images of his men's faces, shouting bravely as they died, pained his soul, casting his thoughts into a dark, bloody abyss. 

Nevetsecnuac, with vivid, haunting pictures of war parading before his mind's eye, shared with Asger the feelings of exhilaration and pain.  The urge for battle had fired up the warrior's blood now coursing through his veins and the fierce, bone-chilling cries of the battlefield filled his ears.

"Yes, only the four of us: you Nevetsecnuac, I, Zeru and Uffen were able to escape that pass.", Asger's voice startled Nevetsecnuac from his trance.  "Tracking along that bloody path, we pushed on up the mountain slope in that blinding, driving rain.  A voice shouted behind us, 'On pain of death, do not let Lord Asger escape!', and a volley of arrows assailed us from the rear.  Suddenly another unit of cavalry cut in from our side to block our way.  Zeru and Uffen wheeled their mounts in either direction as they urged me to get away.  With deep sadness in my heart, for I was constrained by my promise to the late Prince Shon, I checked my urge to remain with these brave men and fight to the bitter end.  Though my senses shouted out of impending danger, the possibility of yet another ambush up ahead, I had little choice but to ride in the only direction that remained open to me.”

“As I rounded the outcrop, a final contingent, led by Marshal Gustav Erling himself, surged out of hiding to obstruct my way.”

“‘And where do you think you're going?’ Marshall Gustav Erling mocked.  ‘Surrender the child at once and I may be lenient.  If not, prepare to die a horrible death!’ he snarled at me.  I roared back in defiance, cursing him and his ancestors to rot in Hell then dared him to face me alone in a single combat.  I remember the monstrous laugh he responded with, and his words, 'Look how the lamb dares to fight the lion!  Death is staring you in the face, and you don't even know it!'  Charging towards me on his steed in a blind fury, he ordered his men to stay put.  They stayed behind dutifully, fidgeting on their mounts, aching to follow him in for the kill.”

"I barely had time to secure you to my back and spur my mount before our weapons clashed.  We fought at least thirty rounds, with neither of us able to best the other.  His fame was well earned, for he was truly a most competent foe, unequaled in martial skill.  This, coupled with his superb cunning   in tactical warfare made him virtually invincible.  Despite all my best efforts, I could barely keep him at bay.  In truth, I felt myself beginning   to falter, but my concern over the infant Prince, you, fueled my resolve and would not allow me to fail.  Perhaps it was out of respect for my own skill that Marshall Gustav Erling then began to sway me with words towards surrendering.  At the climax of the fighting, I feigned weakness.  Expecting me to yield or beg for mercy, Gustav Erling relaxed his vigil for a second.  Instead, I wheeled my horse around and charged at full gallop through the cordon of men around us at their weakest point.”

"To this day I don't know whether or not this was purposefully done by Gustav Erling, for the trail I was forced to ride led nowhere.  At one point I was forced by the narrowness of the path to abandon my horse and ascend on foot to the summit, you in my arms, followed by a snaking trail of foes, headed by Grand Marshall Gustav Erling, his double swords flashing like fangs in the serpent's mouth.  This was the final trap he had set for me, on this high mountain at the corner of three provinces.  Arrows whistled past me from behind.  By grace of Heaven and darkness I escaped their aim with but a slightly grazed shoulder and cheek.”

"Fighting still, and dodging arrows, when I reached the summit, it was dawn once more and the provinces below were bathed in light.  During the continuous close combat with Marshall, when one such arrow, missing me, found its mark in Marshall Gustav Erling’s left arm, from then on at least, the elite marksmen did not dare discharge any more arrows, and abandoned entirely any subsequent notion of using poisoned ones. There I combated Gustav Erling until I lost my arm.  Unable to fight and hold on to the child, I was caught in a bind.  It was there and then that I resolved to hurl both myself and you over the sheer cliff rather than let you be taken alive.  With you still clutched to my chest, after countless minutes of airborne flight with arrows whizzing by after us, we landed in the frigid waters of the river and were finally able to get away."

"How fortunate that you escaped that calamity,” Nevetsecnuac exclaimed in amazement.

"Fortune had nothing to do with it!  It was due to the sacrifice of those sixty valiant men and later still, Lord Shonne Gulbrand's invaluable aid that we were able to get away to safety.”

“If not for all that", Asger shook his head, "I shudder to think of the fate that would have befallen you, my Prince."

“Do you know what became of the Marshall?” Nevetsecnuac asked.

Asger simply nodded. Long after the rescue, mindful of Zakhertan  Yozdek's intolerance of failure, Asger had made an atypical inquiry from his trusted contacts regarding the final disposition of Marshall Gustav  Erling.

“Over the years I came to know of a certain, unconfirmed report, and again I emphasize the fact that it may only be hearsay at best.” Asger stressed, before continuing, “That Gustav Erling returned to the capital bearing the heads of Prince Shon and my father Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon along with their families, and reported as well, his failure to capture Prince Nevetsecnuac and myself. Despite this partial victory, he was nevertheless accused of incompetence and both he and his family were sentenced (condemned) to death. Then again,” Asger pondered out loud. “I doubt this account was entirely true, for it had been long rumored that the beautiful wife of Marshal Gustav Erling, Lady Lingrace, had an unusual attraction for Zakhertan  Yozdek and the two had supposedly an illicit...  Ah, but that's another matter."

Asger abruptly ended it, with a cold bemused smile.

 

Just then the cock's crow announced the arrival of the new day. As Teuquob woke up also at sunrise, she was asked to forgo the chores for the time being and be seated. She was then introduced to her husband in his identity as Prince Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir and similarly was asked to succinctly divulge her long kept secret about her own Royal heritage and the true facts that precipitated her escape from the Palace and then Kontu. Then, over hot a breakfast, Teuquob was enlightened in a summary of the previous night's exchange, the relevant historical events of Wenjenkun and the key circumstances that had (led) forced Asger and Nevetsecnuac to this mountain sanctuary.

 

(END OF SECTION 14)