LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL- SECTION 9

After two- and one-half days of riding, the stony, dirt path converged with the old main road that had long ago been supplanted by another, wider and more level one.

This other thoroughfare (artery) cut straight through the bustling towns and thriving villages that had seemingly sprung up almost overnight beside it.

 Striving to compensate for lost time, and since the opportunity of a long, uninterrupted stretch up ahead availed itself, Nevetsecnuac spurred his mount into a full gallop and they rode like the wind all day long, the mare's hooves barely skimming the surface of the road.  Only when dusk fell did they stop for rest and nourishment.  Leaving the road at a suitable spot, Nevetsecnuac was about to dismount when his keen eyes suddenly spotted a thin trail of coiling smoke to the west, beyond a nearby hill.

01- NEVETSECNUAC

“Could it be Zonar?  No.”  Nevetsecnuac shook his head, grimacing wryly.  That's hardly his style.

“Perhaps it’s bandits…  Well, there's only one way to find out.”  He nodded, having already decided to reconnoiter and find its source.  After tethering his mount to the largest tree in a secure spot that offered lush, green grass for grazing, Nevetsecnuac swiftly crested the hill and, advancing stealthily, made a beeline for the activity.

He ducked just in time, spotting two armed sentinels off to the side, beyond the second rise.  Deciding to investigate them first, he changed course and, hugging the ground, crept swiftly but quietly towards them.

When he was still some distance away, however, the ground beneath his feet suddenly gave way and he plunged into a deep, dark hole.  Despite the howling winds, the more alert sentinel at once stood up erect, throwing aside the dried meat he was disdainfully chewing.  With his right hand poised at his sword's hilt he turned and looked intently, directly at where Nevetsecnuac had been trapped.

"What is it, Deizvor?" Nevetsecnuac heard a winded voice demanding as he hastened after the other who was fast approaching where Nevetsecnuac was.

"I thought I heard some noise coming from this direction, Jonnath," Deizvor answered brashly.

Nevetsecnuac had not let out even a whimper in his surprise fall.  Lying on his back, slightly winded, listening to the warnings from his sixth sense, he remained perfectly still and considered his options.  The approaching footsteps were now sounding dangerously close.

"You must be out of your mind.  How can you hear anything in this wind?  Come on, be reasonable."  Jonnath, grasping the other's arm, held him back only a few paces from the edge of the hole.

"We should get back quick." he then warned.  "We've left the post unguarded.  We'll be in a terrible fix if our absence is noted."

"I did hear something suspicious, like someone falling in, almost like a cave-in." Deizvor responded indignantly, angered by the other's skepticism.

02 THE SENTRY - JONATH AND DEIZVOR

 "Anyhow, no one asked you to tag along.  Go back if you're so worried about your hide; as if he's going to show up now; if at all!"  Deizvor barked, "I said get back!  I'll be there summarily, after I first make a cursory inspection of this area."

"Why are you always so brash, so quick to fly off the handle?  I'm just as bored as you, but you can't invent trouble where there is none.  What you heard was, in all probability, some scared scavenging mammal or a rodent fleeing to safety."  Jonnath stood his ground.

 "Besides, must I warn you of the prevalent dangers?  Do you wish to fall into one of the pitfalls that abound here?  It’s precarious enough to scour this ground in daylight, let alone at night.  Our duty lies strictly in watching the road and guarding Cyprecox Pass, nothing else."  Seeing this failed to persuade Deizvor, he turned his back to him in exasperation, "Go ahead then!  Have it your way."  Jonnath’s voice trailed into the distance.

"I have this strong hunch." Deizvor stamped his foot, vacillating.

"I know I'm on the verge of something.  I sense it with every fiber of my being.  Hmm, oh well.  Jonnath’s probably right.  I am bored out of my skull, but I would have welcomed an encounter with a predatory beast, even a ghost or goblin.  Anything, anything is better than this interminable waiting."  Still grumbling, Deizvor reluctantly withdrew from the edge of the pit and followed Jonnath’s footsteps into the distance.

“They're gone at last! “Sitting bolt upright, Nevetsecnuac brushed aside the slimy worms and maggots that had, all this while, crawled over his face, through his hair and on his chest and legs.

 Straining his eyes to see in the scant light, he glanced around him.  “Is this construction man-made?”  Evidently it was, for the ground on which he sat was tamped hard.  Rocks and pieces of broken pottery protruded from the soil and pieces of rotted beams with sharp edges and spikes littered the ground.  Testifying to the depth of the hole, the air was suffocating, dense and smelled nauseatingly foul.

By rights, his fall should have been more detrimental but, using his martial training, Nevetsecnuac had broken the impact of the fall and had escaped serious injury.  Rising to his feet, he reached out his hands and began to carefully poke and pry the jutting sides.

 Some insects, crawling slimy worms and hairy bugs scuttled away from his probing hands.  Oddly, his hands detected a corroded metal jug that deposited a strangely familiar smell on his fingers, which he, identifying it, immediately wiped it off onto his trouser cuff.

 Then as he continued with his probing, what he had dreaded most came true; for his hand just then rested abruptly on a group of human skulls and bones clustered in the far corner.

“This was clearly not a burial plot, which meant that these unfortunate souls, judging from the way the bones were arrayed and other pertinent clues, were buried alive and left here to suffer a prolonged, lingering death.  What kind of crime had they committed that warranted this cruel punishment?  Had they succumbed to treachery?  Were they loyalists?  Stripped of all clothing and other personal belongings, the mystery surrounding their death and their identification would remain unresolved indefinitely.”  

More intriguing still, was the discovery a bit later, of a solitary skeleton crouched in a small hollow across from the main group.  This one had parts of his legs missing and, upon scrutiny, Nevetsecnuac found that the shin bone had been severed sharply at the ankle and, worse still, that the bones of the hand had been crushed so severely that they crumbled to dust at the merest touch.

Nevetsecnuac's face creased into a frown of intense concentration.  “Why had this one been so brutally mutilated?  Why had he suffered so much worse?  Oh, if only the dead could speak!”

03- NEVETS IN THE DARK PIT

 No sooner had this wistful thought crossed his mind than, suddenly, the corpse's jaw broke off and from inside the cavity a strange, cold object fell squarely into Nevetsecnuac's palm.  A bit spooked, Nevetsecnuac examined it with care.  It felt like a jewel laden miniature key of some sort.

“All right,” Nevetsecnuac nodded, “if it’s within my power, I'll certainly do all I can to vindicate you, sir.”  He placed the key into his inner pocket for safekeeping then, mindful of the limited time he had in which to free himself, returned his attention to more immediate concerns.

                                                                                       ~

 

(END OF SECTION 9)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 8

 

The ghosts stirred, and many took flights into the distance or into the air, as high as they were permitted to go. But before Nevetsecnuac could accost one of the fleeing ghosts the ground split open with a terrifying noise and a horde of horrendous trolls streamed out of the fiery crevice.  Cracking their whips to disperse the unfortunate ghosts who failed to clear the way fast enough, the ugly trolls, cursing and spitting, carved out an open, direct path to Nevetsecnuac.  In their wake there emerged from the chasm, where red hot flames now shot up on high, two most grotesque, most hideous Demon Guards, half human, half beast, with barbed tails between their legs, lolling tongues, jagged, razor-sharp talons, saw-like teeth and blazing, glittering eyes (orbs) set in leathery, blue faces framed by horns and frizzled, raven black hair.

Standing fifteen feet tall, they were truly more fearsome, more gruesome, and more nightmarish than anything Nevetsecnuac had ever seen or imagined.

The terrified ghosts, clustered at a safe distance, sobbed loudly and cringed apprehensively, knowing what awaited him.

Gnashing their rows of teeth, hissing and spitting, the Demon Guards swaggered menacingly towards Nevetsecnuac.  One unlucky young ghost who had failed to clear the way, paralyzed as he was in fear, drew the unwarranted attention of the lead Demon; finding this ready gift irresistible, he halted his advance long enough to reach out with his razor-sharp talons towards the unfortunate spirit.

01- YOUNG GHOST PARALYZED WITH FEAR

Demon’s talons subsequently entered the ghost’s chest cavity and ripped out the prized delicacy, the heart, which he ate in one gulp then licked his chops.  Both demon guards next were about to tear into the remaining flesh to consume the lungs and liver, when Nevetsecnuac, outraged, shouted at them (Demon Guards) in indignation, drawing their attention to him, hoping to spare the poor victim from further torment (anguish).

The other spirits, knowing what they knew, had recoiled in terror, while the braver ones with their hearts palpitating, eventually finding their voices, despite their shuddering, whimpered thoughtful warnings to Nevetsecnuac, but it was too late.

One of the Demons, pinning his fiery gaze on Nevetsecnuac, shot two iridescent red beams from his pupils and paralyzed Nevetsecnuac where he stood; it was implicit (understood) that his turn would come soon enough. Rendered helpless and unable to close his eyelids, meanwhile, Nevetsecnuac witnessed the unfortunate ghost being torn limb from limb then devoured ravenously by the two Demons.  The trolls standing by, looked on hungrily but not daring to intercede and claim even a miniscule share, hoped instead for a (forgotten) scant morsel to be left behind.  However, to their disappointment, the two demons even fought over the entrails, and then settled leisurely to crunch the bones until nothing at all was left of the poor ghost.  Then, belching jarringly (dissonantly), the Demon Guards rancorously advanced upon Nevetsecnuac.

"You're to come with us.  You have a lot to answer for." The leader growled then, with one of his talons (like a hook) piercing the top of Nevetsecnuac's skull, he led the way as he dragged Nevetsecnuac down into the hellish fires.  The agonizing pain Nevetsecnuac suffered as he was hauled away was so intense that he fought to maintain his consciousness (awareness, cognizance).

Down in the depths of the netherworld (Hell), in that surreal topography (landscape) the glowing fires raged everywhere. 

02 -NETHERWORLD

The stony, wabbly path they were on led across a bridge which was flanked on both sides by an abysmal plummet, that intermittently cocooned chambers of horror from which emanated ghastly, heart-rending screams and wails.

 Nevetsecnuac was thankful he could not see the imagined atrocities; nevertheless, their anguished cries grated on his ears as the stench of burning flesh assailed his nose. Subsequently, these unfortunate ghosts, rather what remained of them, were thence (thereafter) ravenously devoured by the rowdy groups of demons seated at long tables. An adjacent chamber revealed a still more ghastly, terrifying sight; there a giant beastly head, its huge mouth filled with row upon row of molars, was being fed human souls by other Demon Guards.  The beast with no body was grinding up the unfortunate souls between his teeth like a millstone.

 Nevetsecnuac flanked by the two Demons, enduring (experiencing) violent vertigo, was dragged across a suspended tall bridge, constructed over a fast-flowing river of blood. Dark crimson and foamy swirling whirlpools periodically revealed giant vipers that were devouring the cart loads of ghosts (ones who’d ended their life prematurely via suicide,) now being steadily dumped into the flow from the banks.  In their frenzy feeding these snakes churned the water so high that the bridge overhead perpetually (swayed) shook unsteadily. 

03- SNAKES FEEDING

The piranha infested bluish ponds came into view next; here the waters boiled as the swarms of flesh-eating fish in their feeding frenzy instantly stripped off all there was of those guilty of gluttony, avarice, spite and malevolence. Unceremoniously dumped into the churning, lighting-streaked waters, where all flesh disappeared right away down to the skeletal bones.

More horrific still was the Hill of Blades beside it, penalty reserved for the worst of humanity, including mass murderers.  Their minced (diced) pieces of flesh were quickly picked clean by the scavenging vultures that hovered noisily overhead.

Eventually Nevetsecnuac and his captors passed through a pair of pronged bronze gates guarded by two fearsome Bull Demons and entered a dark, elongated hall dotted with part-beast, part human, demons, resembling tigers, wolves and hyenas lying or sitting, panting, their tongues lolling, licking their chops.  The high walls, even the ceiling were made entirely of human skulls and bones crawling with flies, maggots, and worms.  The floors beneath Nevetsecnuac’s hauled (lugged, dragged) feet were all paved with crushed bones.

They approached a second set of doors, guarded by fearsome, grotesque giant Demons with halberds.  The bronze framed, purple ingrained cinnabar doors opened with a creaking, grinding sound onto a large vermilion hall, at the head of which was, seated on a dais and leaning against a desk, passing judgment, the most monstrous, most hideous looking Underworld King, Dekiletgan.

On either side of Dekiletgan, the half-human, half-beast fearsome demons holding standards on two-pronged spears were drawn up in tight, impenetrable ranks.  Standing in attendance off to the left side, holding stacks of files, was a tiger-headed Official. Next to him stood the hunchbacked, fox-headed, human-bodied clerk who, before the handling of each case, perused it carefully then passed the appropriate dossier to his superior.

As Nevetsecnuac's turn came the Demon Guards released Nevetsecnuac from the spell of immobility, prodded him forwards and forced him to his knees, after which they bowed and respectfully stepped aside.

The Demon King Dekiletgan, fixing his hard gaze on Nevetsecnuac, ordered the prisoner to approach the bench and state his plea, part of the empty, meaningless formality.

Nevetsecnuac, nevertheless, respectfully  prostrated (bowed-down) low and stated briefly his grievance; after which, he eloquently implored His Honor to grant him a second chance so as to fulfill his destiny and avenge all those that had been wronged, adding quickly that his own fate mattered little to him and, once his task was complete, he'd most willingly, without a qualm, would succumb to extreme tortures of Hell until his penance was paid in full.

Nevetsecnuac's courage and loyalty impressed Dekiletgan.  Favorably disposed to granting him temporary amnesty, the fiendish King turned his attention to Nevetsecnuac's dossier before him and opened it.  However, he had read only a few lines when he exploded in a sudden, great, all-consuming rage.  Smoke emanated from his nostrils; fire flashed from his pupils.  "What blunder is this?" he thundered. Checking his anger summarily however, but glaring at the tiger-headed Official, he summoned with a wave of his hand both the tiger-headed Official and the fox-headed clerk to approach the bench.  After being questioned at length, both were exonerated from all blame.

The Demon King Dekiletgan (pinned, turned) reverted his fiery, blazing eyes next to Nevetsecnuac.

"Because of your stupid blunder," he fumed, "all my records are now botched up!  You are guilty of the most heinous crime and deserve the extreme penalty of this court!  Even after the term of your penance, there will be no appeal, no reprieve for the likes of you."

Then, hastening the procedure, Dekiletgan passed the severest sentence upon poor Nevetsecnuac, at the end of which Nevetsecnuac was condemned to becoming a non-entity for eternity.

 "Take him away!" commanded the Dekiletgan as his final order.

"No, I refuse to abide by this hasty, unfair verdict, this travesty of justice!" Nevetsecnuac protested indignantly.

04-NEVETS ARGUES HIS CASE BEFORE THE UNDERWORLD KING DEKILETGAN

 "You call this a just ruling?  Where is my purported day in court?  I demand I be given a chance to vindicate myself!  What kind of court is this that tramples on truth, integrity, justice, and probity?  I will not deny that of which I stand guilty.  Even then, there were extenuating circumstances and legitimate, valid reasons for my actions.  No, I'm not seeking a total, or even a partial acquittal.  My singular wish is to gain a chance to fulfill my obligation.  No!  I will not be silenced, not until I get what I want!"  Nevetsecnuac stomped his foot defiantly.

"I demand to be heard!  Let go of me, you beasts!"  As Nevetsecnuac struggled and fought hard to free himself from the ever tightening, constricting bonds that had magically appeared on him and, trussed as he was, ducked, bent, and swerved to escape the full impact of the needling, piercing talons, sharp claws and silver rods that mercilessly targeted his head and body from all directions.  "Nooo... “

"Hah?" just then he came to with a start.

"Where am I?  How did I get here?" Nevetsecnuac asked out loud, looking-about him wildly.  To his great relief he found himself to be no longer in Hell but on Earth.  He was amid a thorny bush with clinging runners tightly wound around his legs and waist, restricting his movements.  He was soaked to the skin from the pounding rain. 

05- NEVETS  IN THE RAIN (23)

He looked down and saw his feet totally submerged in a pool of water up to his knees; meanwhile, he could sense many bloodsuckers, having found their way under cloth (his trousers), gorging on his blood.  Disconcerted by this; however, "Zonar?"  Instead, his hand reached up and felt his throat that was still throbbing in excruciating pain right where he had imagined, or dreamt, that Zonar had inflicted that deep gash. His mind still clouded with incomprehensible jargon, he saw wild, strange, bizarre visions flashing intermittently, dancing before his eyes.

"How on earth did I get here?" Once more he raised the question in exasperation as he jogged his memory and tried his best to recollect the very last thing that he did or had happened to him.  Meanwhile, with slight difficulty, he succeeded in weaving his way out from the grasp of the thorny bushes and, by pulling, tearing at the adhesive, sticky tentacles and runners that stubbornly clung to his hair, skin, and clothes, he eventually freed himself.  With bewildered eyes Nevetsecnuac then scanned the surroundings in search of his horse, but he had wandered into a no-man's land and here the dense forest permitted only scant light as thick, lush, tall vegetation choked the ground, obscuring whatever lay in its bosom.

His only chance, he knew, was to get to a higher ground and survey the wider perimeter.

Traversing the ascending, snaking path recently carved, obviously by him, Nevetsecnuac emerged finally out of this nightmarish gorge.

Using a small dagger, he kept concealed (in his boot) for eating purposes, he carefully scraped the bothersome bloodsuckers off his skin.

When the tapering rain just then ceased and strong winds, sweeping the clouds away to the west, created a window in the sky for the sun to peep from, Nevetsecnuac concluded from its position that it was late afternoon, which meant that three-quarters of the day had been, prior, lost to him in a shroud of mystery.  Fortunately, at present, his mind had cleared, and his senses were fully restored to normal.

Seated comfortably on a boulder, he tried to recollect the very last thing he had done, which, in all probability, had contributed to his hallucination. It quickly came to him: “Yes, just before dawn he had dug up some edible roots for sustenance.”

 “Could it be that particular?  No!”  He shook his head in disbelief.  He was certain that he had made no mistake on that account.  He had eaten that root hundreds of times with no consequence.  In the end, however, he had to concede that, perhaps in this part of the country, the same variety had evolved, triggering hence, detrimental effects on humans.

“In that case,” he inwardly noted, “I had best avoid that particular root altogether.” 

This was most disconcerting because, having come this far, he could not now jeopardize his aim.

Reflecting on his vivid hallucination, his combat with Zonar, his wretched, frustrating experience in Hell, Nevetsecnuac nodded with a wry smile, “It seems there is some measure of truth in these mountain folk tales and superstitions, after all.  Fortunately, I’ve survived it unscathed, but what of my mare?  I must seek her out right away; she could not have wandered too far unless she's fallen prey to some predatory beast!”

Fortunately, he'd taken the precaution of keeping the identity papers and summons on him.  Still, without a horse and a scholar's formal attire, Nevetsecnuac knew he could not advance in speed, to meet the deadline, nor could he present himself on foot in the Capital as Fradel Rurik Korvald, without arousing some unwarranted suspicion and dubious curiosity that might jeopardize his enterprise.

As he searched for his horse, there was yet another nagging concern in the back of his mind.  “In a perilous duel he had clashed swords and fists with Zonar, with neither of them gaining the advantage or besting the other.  Up until now, he had thought they were equally matched, but did this bizarre hallucination in some way portend a future encounter with, perhaps, graver consequences for him (Nevetsecnuac)?  Was his delirium a premonition, a warning not to engage Zonar?  Yet, what if Zonar was already in Channing (Imperial Capital City of Wenjenjun) to carry out precisely the purpose he had claimed in the illusion?”

 “No,” shaking his head, Nevetsecnuac dispelled that preposterous notion.  Zonar was too honorable for that.

Deciding to reconnoiter more extensively and, to get an aerial/panoramic view, Nevetsecnuac quickly climbed the tallest ancient tree.  As his eyes scanned the distance far and wide, to his elation he suddenly spotted, a lone horse resembling his, which had just moved out from under the broad-leafed canopy to graze beside a creek which snaked through a clearing beyond the next hill.

05- NEVETS  IN THE RAIN (23)

 "Excellent!" Nevetsecnuac exclaimed in satisfaction.  Then his eyes sought the path which he had inadvertently strayed from.  Finding it, he traced it to where it met up with the old main road, barely visible from his position.  Having set firmly (etched) the direction and all pertinent obstacles in his memory, Nevetsecnuac climbed back down from the dizzying crown of this ancient tree with the nimble agility of a monkey. After which he hastened as fast as his legs could carry him, traversing the rough terrain, to reach his mount before dusk.  The spooked steed, none the worse for wear, bolted at the first sight of Nevetsecnuac then neighed and trotted warily, but did not run away.

Approaching her cautiously, Nevetsecnuac took the mare by the reins, gently stroking her long mane to erase her fears then, vaulting into the saddle, wheeled around, and galloped along the descending course in the right direction.

 

                                                                                           ~

 

(END OF SECTION 8)                                                                                         ~

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 29

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 29

 

When Canute Yonn was again interrogated, he insisted on the validity (legitimacy) of his previous statement and, without variance, repeated that he had left the horse and a certain portion of the booty with Yenis exactly where he had said he did.  "I'm not that immoral (reprehensible) to forsake a lone woman stranded and vulnerable in an abandoned temple, your Honor."

His assertion made Micen scoff, "You murderous bandit!  After all your abominable acts, you dare to assume such noble, moral airs, with me. I warn you, my patience with you is at an end.  Now, confess!  What have you really done with the booty, other than the trifling amount that was found on you? I said confess, or I'll make you wish you were never born!"

Seeing it was pointless to protest further, Canute imparted what they wanted to hear and, mixing it in with the truth, disclosed how he had given the greater portion of the valuables to Miake Temple in exchange for prayers for his mother's soul.

 "The idea, I profess, had occurred to me in the courtyard of Kuno Temple, when I viewed the tragically exposed bones of the monks, and was reminded of man's brief and futile existence on this earth."

"Such impudence…Tragic bones, indeed!  Go on, but I warn you, just stick to the facts."  Micen motioned for Canute to continue.

Canute lifted his head and, gazing fixedly at the insignia of the Prefect's Office hung before Micen Do, distractedly resumed, "Yes, because the horse proved useless, I had to exchange it and some of the valuables for another one and meant to use the rest to reach safe passage to a mountain refuge."  Canute lapsed into silence again.

 He had hoped to fulfill at least a part of his promise to his mother by escaping to safety and settling down somewhere where no one knew him, where he could grow old and lead an unremarkable life.  A sure fantasy, he had to admit inwardly, yes, a dream that was never meant to be.  A fleeting, wry smile brushed Canute's pallid lips as he closed his eyes and let his body go limp.

"What's the matter with him?  Is he delirious again?  Bring him out of it!"

The bailiff supporting Canute's left arm impatiently tried to nudge Canute out of his trance.  "He's still breathing, Your Honor, but he refuses to respond.  It’s no use, sir, I’m afraid he's out cold now."

"Never mind, let him be." Micen, with a wave of his hand stayed any further attempts to revive Canute.

 "We need not spend any more of this court's time on his testimony.  We've got most of it now, anyway."  Then, with his stern, official visage, Micen ordered that Canute be pilloried until he could reach a supposedly a just decision on the method of execution.

Striking down the gavel, Micen then dismissed (concluded the session) the court.

 As the prisoner was being dragged away, the Prefect, with his secretary, carrying the bulky documents and recorded confessions, retired (withdrew) to his private quarters in back.

Refusing to see anyone, especially Mouro, Micen sunk into his padded chair and began reviewing Canute's confession from start to finish, making notes as he went along.

He then began to dictate to his secretary, changing some parts and eliminating others entirely.

 "When it’s prepared, you will report to me for a final review then you may take the documents to Mouro and have him secure the prisoner's thumb print on the bottom for validation."  Micen having dispensed his final instructions to his secretary turned his back to him and leisurely strolled over to the widow, with his hands thoughtfully clasped behind his back.

 As he peered outside, he grinned in satisfaction.  By the time I hold court tomorrow morning he should have expired, and since there has been no other to contest the case on his behalf, I can foresee no problems.  Hmm, the Luko family should be very grateful to me for my discrete handling of this case, since I've spared them from scandal.  He rubbed his hands expectantly as he returned to his desk.

 Now they should, of course, be held liable for the costs of the necessary bribes to the essential staff members that were present in court at the time of the prisoner's confession; that is if their silence is to be secured indefinitely.  Having reached his desk, he plumped himself into the plush chair and began idly fingering the high pile of documents.

 He was inwardly deliberating how best to approach the Luko family to secure even greater gain, when his thoughts were abruptly disrupted by a knock.

His permission sounded, the underling entered, walked right up to Micen and presented him with the calling card from Esquire Latham Luko.

"Begging your pardon, Your Honor, but, though I informed the honorable gentleman of your wish not to be disturbed, he refuses to go away and insists on waiting until Your Honor is disposed to see him. Shall I have him forcefully ejected? "

“Speak of the devil!” Micen mumbled, then lowering his head, mused. But how on earth did he know, rather, anticipate my intent on paying him a visit this very night?  No matter, he just saved me from the trouble.

 Micen feigning slight annoyance lifted his stern gaze from the document (he pretended to read) and instructed, "No, since he's here, have him come in."

03- LATHAM  LUKO , aged thirty-two

Latham’s stern face, sporting a slight polite smile on his lips, was ushered in at once and, after polite greetings, was shown to a chair.  The congenial felicitations and mutual flattery quickly dispensed with over tea, Latham donning (wearing) a serious demeanor got right to the point and urged Micen to pass swift judgment on Fradel Rurik Korvald when court next resumed, as any undue delay (dragging this matter out) would perpetuate his family’s unwarranted anguish.

 If Micen had not known better, he would have been totally beguiled, by Latham’s feigning ignorance, of the latest (string of) developments in this case.

 It came as no surprise to Latham, however, when the Prefect announced happily that it was not Fradel, but the son of a former servant, Canute Yonn, who was the real culprit. The former gang member had been incarcerated, his confession already obtained (under duress) and, left in the darkest, heavily guarded dungeon to await final verdict.

"Tomorrow morning his case will be first on the agenda when he will be duly sentenced according to law.  As events are already proceeding at a satisfactory pace, there is no reason for you or your family to be at all concerned."

"You are indeed quite proficient Official, to resolve this case expediently, sir.  You really are to be congratulated." Latham circumspectly flattered the Prefect.

 Highly pleased, Micen, after his supposed momentary pondering, gave Latham what he was after, a brief account of the pertinent details of Canute's capture and the key points of the trial.

 Latham Luko masked his unease well as he patiently listened then, nonchalantly (casually) inquired whether Canute's confession had divulged a motive for his heinous crime against the elder Luko.

 “Why had Senson been the sole target; he had never so much as (laid eyes on) met this Canute Yonn? Also, why did this despicable culprit not hurt (victimized) any other members of the Luko family, while he had the chance?” 

Latham was particularly anxious to learn why he, himself, had been spared, but masked it well, behind the seemingly dispassionate general inquiry.  He even, at this point, admitted to his own insignificant, chance encounter with the convict and promptly confessed his cold and haughty treatment, his refusal of Canute's pitiful attempts to gain his acquaintance, with the purpose of securing his patronage.

"I had sensed, even then, that he was not one of our kind, that he was only playing at being a gentleman.  There were too many unknowns in his background and that made me wary.  Now I realize that I had been right about him all along."

He pensively looked away for a moment, “It’s unfortunate that I could not convince my elder brother of my views.”

Returning his undivided attention to Micen, he then asked anxiously, "Tell me, sir; was his motive a misdirected enmity?  Was it an unfortunate act of murder in the course of a robbery, or was it premeditated?"

Most curious indeed, Micen mused.  No questions at all about Yenis's part (involvement) in all of this.  Continuing the charade, he smiled wryly, "Calm yourself, sir.  It won't do (help), for you to get into such a state and injure your health.  As it is, you are now burdened with the elaborate funeral arrangements, on top of bearing (assuming) your elder brother's family responsibilities.  You know very well that I should not be discussing the case with you at all, but since we are such good friends, I feel I can make an exception.  I must caution you, however, that what I'm about to tell you must never leave this room, for reasons which will soon become obvious."

"I am grateful for your discretion, Micen, and your kindness shall not be forgotten." Latham politely bowed his head then sat upright in rapt attention.

"In view of the delicate nature of your sister-in-law's involvement in this case I took the precaution of having the court cleared of all viewers and non-essential staff before a full confession was extracted from Canute Yonn.  I had expected to discover that, after their adulterous affair was exposed, Canute Yonn's hand was forced and he resorted to violence, already palpable (evident) in his nature, to extricate himself from the sticky situation and avoid the impending retribution from Senson.  But, of course, this was not to be the case." Micen rose to his feet and waddled over to the window to look outside.  He could not resist toying with Latham, whose fidgeting in his seat, Micen could well sense, even with his back to Latham.

 Good let him fester a bit and sweat it out. Micen grinned coldly.  Assuming a grim, serious look, Micen returned to his seat to offer Latham more tea.

Not daring to offend the Prefect, Latham assented and sipped his tea in pained silence until Micen put down the empty cup and picked up where he had left off.  "As I was saying, I could not have been more wrong in my assumption, for it turned out to be just another typical case of robbery and murder.  Seeing how your family was so affluent, the ruffian had conspired from the start to rob you by exploiting the weakness, if you will forgive my saying so, of your sister-in-law.  Women are so unreliable, so impressionable, don't you agree?  If you ask me, Senson was too good for the likes of her and certainly did not deserve such treachery.”

“It’s most unfortunate that, during the robbery, Senson awoke and met his untimely end, after confronting the bandit."

Micen's discretion did not go unappreciated.  Latham understood perfectly that he had just heard the altered(distorted) version of events that would be presented in court the following day.

"Unfortunately, however," Micen resumed, "we are beset with difficulties and plagued with obstacles.  The recovery of the valuables, I fear, may be somewhat delayed."

"Please, sir, their recovery is of little consequence to either my family or me.  We are quite pleased now that my brother's murderer has been incarcerated and will be duly punished."

"Of course… of course…  Still, some of the items I'm told are quite irreplaceable, for example one antique jewel box, inlaid with gems and mother of pearl.  Therefore, I will begrudge no expense and leave no stone unturned to effect (achieve) its swift recovery.  Besides which, locating that box may shed some light on some rather haunting puzzles, but I'll refrain from boring you with those now."  Micen, pushing all the right buttons, was deriving a perverse pleasure and some amusement at Latham's expense.

 After letting the other squirm for a brief spell, Micen pretended to change his mind,

 “I’ll let you in on this much, though, as you may know, the box in question was kept on the night table beside Senson's bed.  Am I right?"  Micen paused to receive Latham's nod before continuing.

 "Now, as per affidavit (confession), on the night of Senson's murder, strangely enough, its entire contents were dumped onto the floor.  Senson's steward and chambermaid, both supposedly drugged on the night in question, verified and accounted for all the contents.  Now, why do you suppose the murderer would bother to do that?  To discard them in that way, I mean, especially as these items were of considerable value as well.  Why not just take along the box as is?"

Latham's unexpected reaction, which he failed to completely mask, gave Micen an additional, curious insight.

There had not been enough time for Latham to have been briefed on every detail of Canute's confession, which meant that Latham must have been an eyewitness to the gruesome dismemberment in the aftermath of the murder.  Why had he not then intervened?

Micen scrutinized Latham further.  Was he simply a yellow-bellied coward, who sought to save his own skin, or an unconscionable, cold-hearted opportunist? 

This was not the appropriate time to delve into this investigation, however so, donning (putting on) a solemn smile, Micen changed the subject, "I trust that Senson's funeral arrangements are proceeding swiftly?  If there is anything I can do to assist you in any way, please do not hesitate to ask me.”

“I will come and pay my last respects to him as soon as I've concluded this case tomorrow.  By that time your esteemed brother should be most properly avenged.  On that, sir, you may have my personal assurance."  Micen fell silent and anxiously fingered the pile of documents on his desk.

Latham, taking the hint, stood up and bowed.  "I've already taken far too much of your valuable time, Your Honor." He then thanked Micen most humbly and sincerely.   "I'm afraid our family has put you to too much trouble, sir.  Still, you will not find us ungrateful.  In the days to come we must think of ways of repaying your kindness in full."

His promise delighted Micen.

"You are embarrassing me, sir." The Prefect ejected gleefully as he walked Latham to the door.

 "I am a mere official who is only following procedures and doing his duty.  Why make such a big deal of it?"

 Inwardly, as Micen congratulated himself, he pondered on the identity of the informant in his midst that obviously had such free and easy access to the Lukos. But upon Latham's departure, his discreet investigation and the uncovered facts had completely exonerated his chief suspect, his assistant Mouro.

In truth, Mouro, having anticipated this, had already taken great pains to secure himself a tight alibi while directing all suspicion to likely culprits such as the head bailiff Hecun and the court physician Sullen.

Latham Luko, true to his word, lost no time in sending his agents to dispense generous bribes to all those who had been present in court for Canute's confession. 

                                                                                 ~

During the small hours when everyone was fast asleep, the guards stationed outside of Canute’s cell, having suddenly overcome with unusual fatigue, they had all fallen into deep stupor. In that short span, unbeknownst to all, a strange (bizarre) occurrence took place; the prison cell which had housed Canute, suddenly was infused with vapors and blinding light.  When it passed (cleared up), Canute’s strung up body (still locked in the pillories) had entirely disappeared without a trace.

Next morning at dawn, when Canute's missing body was discovered, Micen, wishing to avoid controversy and likely trouble from superstitious groups, gave the order of secrecy on pain of death; and so, the matter was expediently covered-up (whitewashed, smoke screened). A short time later, Micen in court, briefly announced that prisoner Canute Yonn succumbing to his excessive injuries, had expired during the night  and his corpse had already been promptly disposed (Another condemned, disfigured prisoner’s corpse in place of Canute Yonn's, had been chopped up  and then fed to the wild dogs); subsequently, a different version of Canute’s confession was read out loud, and no one in court cried foul. Earlier still, a pseudo (fake) Canute’s head, badly disfigured and unidentifiable, had been secretly transported to the Luko mansion for apt disposition: According to prescribed ancient customs, the perpetrator’s (culprit Canute’s) skull, once stripped of flesh and scorched by fire, would then be placed beneath Senson's corpse’s feet at his burial ceremony, condemning Canute's spirit to eternal servitude to the deceased Luko clansman.

As it were, even though Senson's murder case had generated much public interest, only a fraction of the previous crowd of spectators had filed into the courtroom on the day of sentencing.  Many of the curious onlookers were, understandably, scared off by their memory of the grizzly-red-haired Devil.

05- GRIZZLY RED-HAIRED IMMORTAL

 When the prisoners, Yenis Luko and Fradel Rurik Korvald were next brought in court, the sorry state of the woman created quite a stir and a shock among few that were in attendance.  Disappointedly, Fradel Rurik Korvald, however, looked none the worse for his ordeal.

The presiding prefect Micen Do in his splendid attire, feigned confidence (boldness), despite the fact he had tripled his posting of guards, as he proceeded through the preliminaries and moved to the judgment and sentencing.

Yenis Luko was sentenced to be decapitated (guillotined), the execution to be carried out at noon on the same day on the public execution grounds in the center of the city.  Upon hearing this she shrieked and passed out cold.  She too, was then dragged out by two bailiffs and put into the cell for the condemned to await (wait for) the appointed hour of her doom.

At this point a second squad of bailiffs entered the courtroom and took up positions with the first.  The prisoner Fradel Rurik Korvald was brought in before the bench for sentencing.  Micen spoke slowly, aware of the crowd in the room holding its breath and straining to hear every word.

"Prisoner Fradel Rurik Korvald, by the judgment of this Court, you are found to be not guilty of the charges of murder, mutilation and robbery of the Honorable Esquire Senson Luko.  You are therefore absolved of all charges and no punishment will be laid against you."

The crowd groaned and gritted their teeth in contempt, they had been hoping for additional execution that afternoon.

"The court will now consider the charge of trespassing on the restricted grounds of Kuno Temple in violation of Imperial Edict."

Suddenly all ears perked up and a dead silence prevailed.

"Despite your ingenious defense, and your plea for leniency, the law is most explicit in its stipulation that no exceptions, regardless of circumstance, be made.  In accordance with that law, I judge you, the defendant, guilty as charged and sentence you to death, also to be carried out by beheading."

The crowd breathed a sigh of relief, anticipating their entertainment, only to be disappointed once more.

"Due to the consideration of you special circumstance, I hereby set the place of execution as the Capital city, Channing, and the date of execution to be a day after the completion of the services due his Imperial Highness, Zakhertan  Yozdek.  The exact time and date are to be determined by the Board of Punishment in that city.  You, of course, are free to appeal your case to the Board before that time, and also to seek an Imperial Pardon from His Highness.  Commencing at daybreak tomorrow, you will be transported with armed escort to Channing in an enclosed and locked prisoner's cage.”

“You will be let out of the cage for a brief physical examination upon your successful transfer to the authority of Magistrate Rue of Cheabirger Prefecture in Tenzo Province and not before then."

06- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC)

 As he was being led away by four bailiffs, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) reflected gravely on how he could make good his escape from this impasse.

The impressed spectators remained in awe of Micen's courage.  After nervously glancing about, they converged outside in groups to mechanically nod their heads and exchange similar views in whispers.

"See, His Honor cannot be intimidated!"

"Micen Do is really a firm judge."

"He's to be commended for his courage."

"He upholds the law to the letter, without exception."

"To be transported all that way in that fashion is as good as being condemned to death, the prisoner will never survive the ordeal."

"As sure as my nose is on my face, Fradel Rurik Korvald will never reach the Capital alive to appeal his case."

"I tell you; I wouldn't be so bold or as brave as His Honor.  Not with that threat hanging over my head."

"Nor would I!"

"Nor I!"

One after another, they all concurred then left to get some lunch before making their way to the public execution grounds.

Though the proceedings had created an excessive backlog of cases, which would normally force the Prefect to convene court twice daily, Micen Do deferred all the pending hearings to a later day and, with a stack of documents tucked under his arm and a heavy guard at his side, left the building shortly before noon.

Now of course few had harbored the curious enigma (conundrum) in mind and had queried inwardly of what had really happened to Canute Yonn. This dilemma, however, would never be resolved for years to come.

 But Canute Yonn had in fact was rescued by a non-other than, invincible warrior called Zonar.

07- ZONAR KUNTZU

At prior time, whilst the apprehended Canute Yonn burdened with cangue and chains, awaited in the hallway for his turn in court, to be taken before Micen Do, Zonar, detecting Canute’s unusual aura and so, fleetingly manifesting there, had only askance (sideways), given Canute a cursory look. But in that instance, Zonar’s keen senses (radar, insight, mental probe) having promptly penetrated Canute’s mind and the depths of his soul, he’d promptly learned all he needed to know about this steadfast young man. Canute’s entire life history (his tragic, past ordeals) then an open book, and furthermore, what his portended future was, this intrigued same time had infuriated, Zonar. After that, Zonar could not idly stand by and let this remarkable young man be subjected to extreme torture till he perished at the hands of such despicable villains.  So yes, Zonar had paid Canute a visit, on that last night of his incarceration, before the day of execution.  And true enough, if he had not, Canute would have expired from his severe wounds that very night.

In that blinding flash of light and vapors, manifesting for a spell, he had freed Canute Yonn from his chains and then instantly transported (whisked, zipped) him to a, far away place, a densely forested hilltop, in a remote northern region of Wenjenkun, bordering Korion. There, Zonar invoked one of his invocations (spells) and instantly restored Canute Yonn, to his former physical and mental health.  Canute coming to, was shocked to see Zonar before him, however, quickly overcoming his shock and fear, grasping what must have happened, he'd fallen on his knees and humbly thanked his benefactor for saving him. Zonar, after simply nodding, snapped his fingers and the two were instantly transported to a deep cavern in the mountainous region of Korion.  Having recognized the great potential of Canute Yonn, Zonar, scribbled an undecipherable (obscure, cryptic), message on a just then produced peace of parchment, sealed it up in a bamboo tube.  Zonar entrusted this to the care of Canute Yonn, along with his brief verbal instructions. Canute, hence, learned of which path to follow to safely descend the mountain and to reach a remote mountain village, ruled by discerning and honorable clan. This ancient indigenous tribe populated by warrior type hunters and gatherers (herbalists) would welcome him and if he cared to stay there a while, a season or two, he would then learn how to fight, ride and hunt, as well, acquire rare, valuable, lifesaving aptitudes (abilities, pointers) that would serve him well in future years. Canute was then directed (instructed) to, where he should go from thereon, whom to contact to receive arms, employment and place to permanently set up roots. Remembering another detail just then, Zonar reached into his inner pocket and gave Canute Yonn a leather pouch, containing a generous amount of funds, (Korion’s monetary means, monies), for the anticipated, future incurred expenses. Zonar then impatiently, dismissing Canute’s sincere heartfelt gratitude and words of thanks, (for he had to be urgently present elsewhere), he simply nodded and said, “There is no need. As you are destined for greatness, we will meet again one day.” And then, puff, instantly he (Zonar) vanished (disappeared) into thin air, leaving Canute Yonn all alone in that enormous cave.

                                                                           ~

(END OF SECTION 29)