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)

THE DRAGON LONGZE AND THE LOST DAUGHTER BERDIS (PART 2)

 THE DRAGON LONGZE AND THE LOST DAUGHTER BERDIS 

(PART 2)

(Original story By Bost 2025)

 

Temuz’s feet was suddenly bolted to the ground and, with his arms fastened to either side of him like led weights, try as he might he could not move a single muscle, nor could he take a single step forward. That same instant, his mouth had contorted in pain, as the look in his eyes indicated dread, for he had just then grasped the gravity of his predicament (situation); ahh, but bit too late! 

Subsequently, the rising gale winds that had mercilessly thrashed him had also heralded the dark, ominous clouds overhead, instantly turning day into night. Then came the torrential downpours, a deluge, but it all fell only on him; Berdis few feet away remained totally dry. Angry skies repetitively thundered and shook the very ground which he stood; but worse was yet to come, a streak of lightening next finding its mark, Temuz’s body just then was set alight (busted into flames).

 And promptly, he was reduced to a large heap of ash! Berdis, meanwhile, witnessing all this, in fright had collapsed suddenly on the moss-covered ground, unconscious yet breathing.

When she came to, the shocking event suddenly recollected, her face turned ghostly white, but not a single alarming cry escaped her lips; instead, she had simply sat there on the ground, in numbed state, barely listening to Longze’s rationalizations (explanative) and urgent appeals (entreaties) ringing in her head. She had never seen anyone perish (die) in front of her before, let alone someone she knew, though detested.

Later that afternoon Berdis had quietly returned to her home and gone straight to her room. She had said nothing to her parents even though her pallid complexion had greatly alarmed her mother, Elin.  Berdis had obligingly ingested (swallowed, consumed) some chicken bouillon, a nourishing soup, and was allowed to retire early to bed that evening. Her ill health, and melancholy state did not dissipate following morning but rather, lasted for nearly a week.

The whole village, meanwhile, was cast in tumult, when Temuz and his bond servant’s sudden mysterious disappearances without a trace, was discovered. For weeks, dire speculations, unfounded accusations and unsolicited (unwelcome) ominous predictions wildly circulated, fingers pointing at likely culprits, all the while causing emotional soup of fear, grief, anger and foreboding, not only among his immediate family and wide network of friends but also, with countless others that had dealings (favorable or otherwise) with Temuz in the village. Some of Temuz’s closest friends, recalling Berdis’s demeaning (belittling) rejection of Temuz at the dance earlier on, now put their heads together in conspiratorial whispers against Berdis, suspecting that somehow, she must have begotten (caused) this trouble. Some even shunned her or spread nasty rumours about her, even deeming her unlucky and ill-fated.  All expanded efforts searching for Temuz, meanwhile, lasting for weeks and months, had all been in vain:  no resolution, no answer came forth despite the indebt investigation; this eventually forced the authorities to register the disappearances of both in official report, as unresolved, unexplained phenomenon.

Eventually, things in the village had quieted down and ordinary life seemingly returned to norm, especially since summer was nearing its end, and soon there would be the Autumn Harvest Festival. Subsequent days, the activity in the village was electric; the air was permeated with excitement as all neighbours congregated in the community hall, planning the future Autumn Harvest celebrations. 

Reluctantly, Alec and Elin had participated in some of the ongoing rush of events, even though their hearts were not in it. By then, also not wishing to worsen Berdis’s malady, Alec and Elin had temporarily postponed making any final decision about Berdis’s prospects (nuptial), which by the way, had been greatly diminished.  They were quite contented, meanwhile, because Berdis now a subdued, proper young lady, rarely went out lone on excursions, and even then, she never ventured too far. Even so, many of her friends had now kept their distance and furthermore, Berdis’s introverted traits being unusual- consistently sequestered in her room reading horticulture books and taking notes on medicinal herbs, and as oft she seemed, distracted, moody or unhappy- inaudibly concerned, her mother, Elin.

Back at the mountain cave, meanwhile, Dragon Longze had just finished paying for his past violation, when barely released from his chains, he was now informed of a new charge, having already been found guilty in absentia, of his breach (infringement), of yet another forbidden, stringent Heavenly rule. Any intimacy or love relations was strictly prohibited between divine(immortal) and the mortal beings. When he had hopelessly fallen in love with a mortal being, his transgression had condemned him.

Longze hence, was summoned at once to Heaven’s court, to answer this charge and to submit to his dire punishment.  Even though some had pleaded on his behalf, he was still given the only recourse (option) as recompense sentence (verdict):  to either forever forsake his love, Berdis, and incinerate her, or suffer as penance (fine, punishment) the Hundred Heavenly Thunderbolts, an extreme chastisement which none had ever survived; and on the unlikely chance he did, he would  thereafter be deprived (stripped) of his immortality. Kneeling before the Heavenly Court, he had begged for the opportunity to first contact her, before he gave his final decision. Though reluctantly, he was given this singular chance.

LONGZE

That night he had appeared to her in his, almost-human form, in a dream and truthfully explained his reasons for his long abstinence. He had not forsaken her, far from it, he’d done his best to alter the course of their otherwise doomed relationship, the forbidden love and the inevitably consequential tragic fate (certain outcome,) that had awaited them both. He had then asked tentatively, if she still carried the flames of passion (love) for him in her heart. She had looked at him, unafraid and straight in the eye, hurt registering in her pupils temporarily for his doubting her affection, and then nodded in the affirmative.

 “Yes,” she had then declared resolutely and, with deep emotion in her voice, “I have never once, stopped loving you.”

His heart in ruptures, he had manifested (in absolute human form) in her room, and she also awakened, presently on her feet, for a moment they had simply stared at each other.  Then he smiled and drew near to passionately embraced her, afterwards, lowering his head, he tenderly kissed her rosy lips. But then quickly pulled away and shook his head. “First, however, you must be in the know…. “Longze hesitated, looking grim, then forcing calm to his voice he slowly, hence, began recounting (relaying) albeit grave consequences, of what their forbidden love entailed:

After his punishment of Heavenly thunderbolts (he’d purposely omitted the number hundred, insinuating instead that it would only be couple of bolts), he would then be stripped of all his innate (divine) powers of immortality and then be cast on earth, to live a single lifetime, with his beloved Berdis, if fortune favored them. He reiterated, making sure she understood the full implications, that he and she would be cast forlorn and helpless, him a mere mortal being, in some distant, foreign lands where they would have to rely only on their own devices, receiving no support or backing, from Heaven, relations or friends. She may suffer greatly from being segregated (separated) from her parents, the comforts of home, the routine life in the village, all that she had known, loved and cherished in her growing years. Together they would survive and perhaps even thrive, but at a cost to her, and this fact(ached) deeply pained his heart. Then, his voice strong and resolute, he avowed to love and protect her to the best of his abilities, to cherish and provide for her to the end of his mortal existence. Falling silent momentarily, however, he looked up at her to somberly confess, that he had no certain way of knowing or predicting what his future physical shape or abilities would be. He bit the corner of his lover  lip, as he silently considered his inner dread that after his punishment he could be disfigured or worse; then, forcing a smile to his lips, he had quietly asked, “When we meet again, I may appear far different from this current physical form; please consider this carefully, are you still willing to take this great risk, simply on a leap of fate, just to attain this singular chance at happiness with me?”

She had nodded without hesitation and stanchly (steadfastly) said, “Yes.”  Then went on to add that life’s uncertainties (unpredictability) had never frightened her, however, possibility of loosing his love did. She would willingly go through fire, literally, to be with him. 

He was so touched, tears pricked his eyes, and he reached out to gently hold (grip) her hand; turning it over, he raised it to his lips and tenderly kissed the palm of her hand, which was a symbolic gesture, a pledge of his deep, eternal love for her.

And all this was observed in Heaven, not just by his supporters but all, even those ardent opponents (critics) who by having witnessed this rare fervour (zeal), courage, this unequivocal(undeniable) deep affection (love) and unwavering devotion (dedication, fidelity), resultantly hence, had wavered (faltered) in their staunch resolve.

Meanwhile back on earth, from that night on, anticipation of joy, hope and love along with melancholy and worry (chiefly for him), in continuous emotion, though alternately (by turns) had existed in Berdis’s heart. That was partially the reason for her solitude and oft manifest mixed emotions: as her heart habitually palpitated, basking (delighting in,) in Longze’s deep professed love, while her mind considered all that she would be leavening behind, and the myriad (innumerable) possibilities their future entailed. Additionally, her mind also was beset with silent worry about the outcome of his impending (looming) punishment; knowing his nature, she had guessed (supposed) he had not fully disclosed to her, the full gravity (extent) of his sentence (penalty).

                                                                                          ~

In the village, the Autumn Harvest Festival celebrations, which lasted for a week, was now in full swing. During one such event in which all the eligible young people had obligingly participated in symbolic harvesting the terraces, a small measure of the strips of ripened wheat fields that had been purposely left untouched- they had not been long at it when one of the girls, one called Helga, coincidentally one noted for her beauty, joyfully cried aloud having found a specific purple flower.

 Everyone hurried over to at once congratulate her for this, artfully implanted, though purportedly (ostensibly) rare and most fortunate find, which foretold that a brave admirer would soon be on his way to her father’s dwelling to claim her hand in marriage.  The girl blushing crimson, quickly tucking the trophy to her bosom, awkwardly intoned her thanks to all the well wishers and then rushed off to home to relate this good knows to her parents.

That same instant, one of the young men (a distant cousin of Temuz) who happened to be the local blacksmith (the metalworker) and more importantly a malevolent person well-known in the community for his prophetic, ominous predictions, supernatural powers, had noted Berdis’s unease as she had stood aloof off to the side. Langu looking more intently, spied in Berdis’s hand before she could conceal it, impromptu (unplanned, yet genuine), another specific purple wildflower: though this one had two purple blossoms, a much rarer find, more importantly, it had an ominous red stem and leaves.

Excitement bursting in his chest, “Dragon comes!” At once an alarmed cry rang out from Langu.  “The ominous blossoms exist, check out the mark of the red stalk and leaves that is in her grasp!” He insisted in an urgent shout, drawing unwarranted attention to Berdis, and this time his accusatory finger pointed directly at Berdis’s hand, causing everyone gathered to take an intake of deep, fearful breath. All eyes mechanically next, turned to the sky, in search of, predicted, wrathful, baneful Dragon; for the sky had just then suddenly, ominously darkened, as the abruptly rising winds heralded the flotilla of clouds overhead, swiftly concealing the sun behind it.

Berdis subsequently had striven to run away, but Langu persisting with his dire warnings, “Beware all! Watch out for the sure signs...” he, same time, had maneuvered his body to effectively block her way and prevent her escape (flight). “The vengeful dragon, will soon emerge from the cave and seek his revenge on us all!” Langu had continued in his exaggerated tones (unaware of the danger he might beget self), accompanying his ardent words with the mimicked action of many facets of death.  “Run, run for your lives.” 

He turned abruptly and burrowed his hard, suspicious, contemptuous eyes on Berdis. “You! You are in league with that dragon! You are also responsible for my cousin’s disappearance, and perhaps, untimely demise, I know it!” In a venomous whisper, he hissed (murmured). “I will expose you; you wait and see! “

Berdis stockily met Langu’s accusatory glare and simply shrugged.  Her eyes next, with an unreadable expression regarded the purple flower with red stem and red leaves. Inwardly however, she was fighting to steady her heart and to contain her surging inner elation (joy), knowing what her find meant. She had been subtly given the answer, of the Heaven’s merciful verdict.  He’d survived his ordeal, his mated punishment, and soon, very soon, she would be reunited with her beloved Longze.

Langu’s eyes (popped)opened wide, as if he’d just then read her thoughts, as he loudly this time, (reiterated) screeched, “Berdis, she is in league with the Dragon!”

Some among the crowd of onlookers that had gathered, shook their head as if to say, this was bit too much… Suddenly, rounds of laughter erupted spontaneously in waves, as everyone thought that Langu was playing a prank on them, a cruel one at that, just to frighten them and to augment the excitement of the festivities.

Berdis ceasing this opportunity, hastily tugged the precious find into her pocket and darted away, this time successfully.

Of course, no Dragon manifested; furthermore, Langu’s dramatics lost its effect entirely when just then the sudden downpours had everyone running for cover. And, before long all that hype was forgotten, save for Langu who had menacingly and doggedly from then on kept a surreptitious eye on Berdis.

Some things are never put off, even though the numerous events and festivities had many villager’s schedules hectic, and multitudes franticly engaged. Surprisingly at dawn one day, a representative matchmaker of Overseer (supervisor) Kendo Ren, who was from another prominent family, laden with gifts, had formally called at Alec and Elis’s home, to put forward this time a more persuasive proposal for Berdis’s hand in marriage. Supervisor Kendo Ren was way older than Berdis, but he enjoyed such renown (fame) for his aptitude, dexterity and courage especially in the last skirmish (scuffle, fray, fight)  that had secured the highways, including the one leading to their village, from relentless highwaymen, permanently eliminating threat from the notorious White Hawk Gang, that Berdis’s parents accepted him readily at once as an apt suitor for their daughter.  They had long suspected the cause of Berdis’s malady being her secret infatuation of a malevolent spirit; hence, Alec and Elin’s decision had been based on the dire hope that Kendo Ren, with his proficiency as a warrior, would ultimately rescue Berdis from the clutches of that harmful, phantom spirit.

BERDIS

Berdis, when informed of her parent’s decision, did not express any objections to the suitor’s age or give any other plausible reason; she simply shook her head in the negative, clearly rejecting the marriage proposal. Her parents spent the entire night arguing the point between them. By the following day, with their mind set, ascribing the young daughter’s hesitancy to maidenly fear, they went ahead anyway and fixed the date for the upcoming nuptials. Elin, despite her intuitive worry, for Berdis had remained adamant despite pressure, that she would never acquiesce to this match, chose instead, to busy herself for the next couple of weeks with the customary preparations. The wedding date was fast approaching and on the fifth of November, three days after Berdis’s sixteenth birthday hence, the Overseer (supervisor) Kendo Ren would present himself in person, in full regalia, with pomp and ceremony, with a contingent (delegation) of mounted men, at their door, to collect his bride. The wedding celebrations would then take place in his residence, lasting, at least four weeks, owing to his importance.

Alec and Elin had no way of knowing of course that, on the day Berdis had found that two purple blooms on a single red stem, in her heart of hearts she’d understanding its message. Subsequently, she had covertly visited the  forbidden zone one last time, and in front of then sealed cave’s entrance, sitting on a rock, under that broad-topped young pine whose leaves whispered in the gentle murmur of the air in the evening hours when the twilight steals by with night on its heels, she had declared openly , her voice resonating in  the air, her affirmed, avowed fidelity to Longze. 

                                                                                         ~

Two days prior, to the day November 5^th, that was to be her marriage date, she donned her best garments, arranged her hair according to the tradition of her village and wore all her maiden ornaments in beautiful array.  With a smile, she then came forth just before dusk and presented herself to her parents.

“I am sorry to have caused you so much worry,” She said, “It is time for me to now, take my leave of you. My place is with my intended, future husband, Longze, who is patiently waiting for me at this moment, to whisk me away.”

Her face was radiant with joy, and the parents, thinking what she had said was a fanciful way of expressing her acquiescence to their plans, and that Longze was a nickname she’d given to her intended, nodded their ready acquiescence (consent). They had of course expected her to now, to go forth and have that clandestine meeting with her intended suitor Kendo Ren, as this was the accepted norm, before the actual wedding day. 

Her father Alec had stood at the doorway and wished his precious daughter Berdis plentiful good fortune in her anticipated, happy meeting with her soon to be husband, and then briskly turned on his heels and went inside, not wishing for his daughter to witness fresh tears just then brimming in his eyes. Her mother Elin had accompanied Berdis, part of the way.

"I leave you with some trepidation in my heart," Berdis said finally, in a somber tone, when they had halted their steps; from thence, they would part.  "Joyful as this event is, my heart is beset with sadness for I am going from one who has loved and nurtured me since my infancy; one who has guarded my youth; who has given me medicine when I was sick and taught me to cook and sew.” Turning to take one last teary-eyed look at her childhood home, she added. “I am going from a father who diligently kept us safe from all danger, as he oft has ranged the forest to procure the choicest meat and furs, and liberally had his home supplied with food and warmth.  I am going from a place which has been my shelter from the harsh storms of winter, and my shield from the heat of summer. My gratitude is boundless for all that you’ve both done for me. I love you both dearly; but now I must leave you. Farewell, my beloved mother,” Berdis looked at her home one last time and mouthed the words, “farewell also, my respected father, farewell!"

And then, she sped faster than any could follow to the periphery (margin, edge) of the fairy wood, and in a moment, she was lost to sight.

That night Alec and Elin seated by the fire, with mixed emotions had patiently awaited till small hours for her safe return. Subsequent day was the waiting day, which all would rest, reflect and pray, just one day before the big day, the joyful event that would unite their precious Berdis with Kendo Ren formally (legally) before the assembled key witnesses and officials, in an anticipated, blissful matrimonial ceremony.

Time passed.  Hour followed yet another hour, as the clouds of evening rolled up in the west; darkness faded eventually and, the first daylight was about to be manifest in the east, yet Berdis had still not returned. 

They jumped from their seat at a loud knock on the door at down, and with pounding hearts, rushed to open it. But instead of Berdis, they came face to face with the forlorn and decidedly angry face of the bridegroom to be, who demanded an explanation for this insult.

KENDO REN

He had gone through a lot of trouble the night before, with magnificent preparations (arrangements), to woo (court, flatter) Berdis with words of passion, sonnets, gifts of food, wine, music and personal tokens of love, ancestral jewellery to be bestowed on her. He’d patiently waited all night long at the rendezvous point for hours on end, his steps (boots) to and for wearing out the ground and ultimately, his patience, but she had failed to show up. He demanded an explanation for this great breach of etiquette and time-honoured custom (tradition, ritual).

Alec and Elin were mystified and bit horrified at this unimagined outcome; they were of course beset with silent worry thinking some grave mishap must have befallen her. They carefully, meticulously enumerated, the last night’s spoken words and events, in their head, still disbelieving their senses, instead, seeking any plausible explanation for this unexpected outcome.

Kendo Ren had great influence and power not just in the village but in the entire region; and because of his prominence, soon, many armed men were dispatched (rounded up) , utilized, spread about, some on horseback, searching the byways, steep hills, the periphery shoreline of the lake, wilderness and whereabouts, even trespassing into the forbidden zone, in an exhaustive, thorough search of Berdis. The all-encompassing search had lasted all day and night; at night with torches lit, they (examined) still investigated every dark recess of the mountain, probed each and every chasm (crevice), combed every leafy brush, examined every disturbance on the ground (tracks belonging to wildlife or men), still it had been in vain. The huge cave entrance meanwhile had been sealed, it was solidified into a mountain, and the cavern existed no more. Nor did they care. They hoped it had sealed and imprisoned the dreaded Dragon there permanently. At least that was something to be thankful for.

Kendo Ren’s rage could not be so easily assuaged; though he concealed his innate nature well, he was in truth an arrogant, possessive, cruel and spiteful warrior who’d always gotten his way. Moreover, Kendo Ren had, for a long time secretly lusted (hankered) after Berdis, and when Temuz’s proposal of marriage had been accepted, incensed Kendo Ren had then made certain arrangements to bring about Temuz’s accidental, premature demise (death). But before this was to happen, Temuz had gone missing, robbing Kendo of the satisfaction of personally illuminating his rival. Now after the extensive search, having failed to yet again possess Berdis, he’d now sought to utterly destroy her parents Alec and Elin, for his unrequited lust and, as scant satisfaction, of his need for revenge.

It took some doing but eventually Kendo Ren was persuaded by the influential officials from his village, to instead, merry Helga. She was vein true, but also well endowed; moreover, on her seventeenth birthday, just shy of three months, she would be bequeathed with an additional wealth, a sizeable inheritance left to her by her only uncle, an enigmatic adventurer, who had never married or sired any known children. Joining her in matrimony will enhance his wealth and power, and so he had opportunely altered his (nuptial) plans and thought of Berdis no more.

Many suns rose and set, and in time all forgot the existence of Berdis, save for her parents. They had endlessly, in lamentation oft at night called out her name, but she answered not.  Nevermore in their light did the bereaved parent’s eyes behold the lost form of their beloved child. Soon they had to come to grips with a harsh reality: their beloved daughter had been lost to them forever. Wherever she had vanished, it was to a place no mortal eyes could see, and no mortal tongue could tell.

Essentially, when the Dragon Longze was first freed from his chains and  emerged from the cave: before his going to Heaven to answer for the new charges, it had been him that with his magic breath that had permanently sealed the entrance of the cave, forming an impenetrable, solid, charred rockface, so that no other would ever be held captive there ever again.

Afterwards, he had gone to Heaven and had suffered the extreme punishment of 100 Heavenly thunderbolts. He had endured the unimaginable torment and furthermore, survived just so he could be with his beloved Berdis. He could not allow himself to expire, not when he was so close to fulfilling his heart’s desire. His love had sustained him through the searing flames slicing, carving deep lines in his flesh and bones, the agonizing, soul shattering bolts that threatened to unhinge his mind.

He remained most grateful to his friends that had unstintingly cared for him after the fact, tended to his wounds and soon as the danger had passed and he was able, though a deep scar on his right cheek now marred his beautiful face and his left arm was permanently debilitated (hindered, encumbered), he had not with resentment but with humility, knelt before the Heavenly Mighty God and accepted, the just, final verdict.

Heaven being (lenient) merciful, he was manifested back at the mortal realm, in perfect health, as the same handsome young man of twenty with long, cascading blond hair and grey blue eyes, the same image he’d assumed in his last encounter with Berdis. 

He had patiently waited that night, there under the canopy of infinite no of stars and moonlit sky, at the mouth of the old cave, for her to come to him. She did not disappoint his trust; and joyfully reunited with her, the two then embraced and closed their eyes; instantly they were cast (transported) to a distant land, but not an inhospitable one, for Heaven was compassionate and forbearing (tolerant, forgiving).

Longze and Berdis settled down in a modest dwelling, perched on the remote, however picturesque, segment of the majestic mountain, with cascading waterfalls and breathtaking scenery.  These mountain rages and the surrounding area, being at the periphery, was still under the jurisdiction, therefore apt protection of a just kingdom.

They mostly kept to themselves, though the monastery and the two towns nearby, still at some distance, provided Longze and Berdis with the necessary, annual provisions they could not otherwise attain. There, in their humble dwelling they lived happily ever after in perfect, blissful existence, Longze earning a living through hunting with abundant game on this high elevation (not altogether hostile topography, beside the densely forested mountain range); and Berdis, contributing to their livelihood, by being a healer, as she had some knowledge of the healing herbs.  She often gathered wild herbs that was found sometimes only on the mountain slopes (gradient, incline, hill), and categorized these accordingly, using them as treatment for myriad (innumerable) afflictions. And so, they lived peacefully ever after, till their hair turned grey, surrounded by three beautiful children, and two boys and a girl and many grandchildren.

The End.

 

THE WEDDING - SECTION 5

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE WEDDING - SECTION 5

BRANDT DUSTIN

 

The vivid recollection of that first ride’s thrill and joy to date still stirred (fired) Svein’s soul and brought prompt smile to his lips.  At present (currently) on route to town Karene, the added (bonus) excitement and delight stemming from his expected union with Teuquob bursting his heart, Svein urged Fiery Comet to equate that first time’s speed till they felt as if they were riding on air, goaded on by the wind, with the horse’s hooves hardly touching the ground.

 After several days’ ride when Svein reached Karene by mid-afternoon, he and the horse were both parched by the all-consuming heat.  Though the wind had picked up during the last hour or so and white clouds now sailed on by across the sky in speed, it still did not offer the earth any real respite.

Svein led the horse through the wind-swept streets, straight to the familiar inn, located at the far western edge of town.  The middle-aged, stout innkeeper, being notified of Svein’s approach well in advance, hurried down the steps with his hands clasped obsequiously to personally welcome Svein and invite him into the inn. 

After Svein returned his greetings with similar humility he obligingly followed alongside the innkeeper up the stairs.

Meanwhile Fiery Comet was led around to the back stables by the stable hands to be washed and fed, in short, to be well looked after.  They worked diligently, begrudging the horse nothing, knowing their efforts would be well met by a generous tip from Svein in the end.

After Svein was refreshed and had a change of clothing, he came down and was shown to a seat and promptly served a complimentary tea, the innkeeper politely inquired after his health then asked to learn of his requirements.  Once these were imparted and some funds changed hands he then rushed off at once to see to the details.  Not daring to waste any more time, Svein, forgoing lunch, left the premises and went off into the main marketplace to acquire his purchases.

In the past, keeping a low profile, Svein had always concluded his business and had departed town the following day, without any adventures to speak of.  His formidable bearing had discouraged local hooligans from accosting or assaulting him, while his quietly reserved nature had kept him from becoming the object of idle gossip among the locals who droned the gambling halls and whorehouses.  As a result, he had always wandered in and out of town without touching anyone’s lives or making a single friend or foe.  This time, however, his list was longer than usual and contained some (unusual) odd and specialty items and he could not conclude his business all in one go.

The innkeeper, with delight, had prepared for Svein’s lengthier stay upon being so informed.  Himself a respectable and quiet man, the innkeeper had curbed his curiosity all these years and had allowed Svein his right to privacy and secrecy.  Though he knew practically nothing of Svein’s background other than the false name, Audun Colden, which Svein had invented for his outside excursions, still, over the years he had developed a special fondness and respect for the youth, appreciating greatly his virtues of politeness, honesty, and the manner of speech that had marked Audun as learned literati.

After securing the day’s purchases in his room, at dusk Svein came downstairs to consume some supper.  He was led at once to a clean table in the far corner of the room, and tea and food were then punctually served to him.  It was towards the conclusion of this last course when Svein’s attention was suddenly drawn to an ornate sword handle and its sheath worn by a stranger who had just then appeared at the doorway (entrance).  By now the place was crowded by a large boisterous crowd that kept the waiters on their toes rushing to and for with orders.

From where he stood the stranger first surveyed the room, ignoring the waiter who had rushed over to invite him to an available table.  Wrinkling his nose, his narrowed eyes telling of his disdain for this place, he then somewhat reluctantly made his way over to an empty table of his own choosing by the window and sat himself down.  The stranger next impatiently threw down several gold coins onto the table and voiced his requirements. The apologetic waiter nodded, and then snatching the gold at once hurried off to fetch a jug of the best wine of the establishment, that were typically kept in the cellar, under lock and key.

As the stranger again looked contemptuously about him, his eyes full of daring suddenly fell on Svein; latter on his part not wishing to incur any undue curiosity seemingly pensive, kept his focus pinned on the plate in front of him. Subsequently the stranger’s gaze moved on to a more interesting target, the clustered heads with hushed wagging tongues that appeared to be scheming some conspiratorial, unsavory plan.

Towering well over six feet in height, with a bearing so formidable, the stranger’s intimidating presence had discouraged even the rowdy group of law enforcement officials seated next to his table from accosting him; in fact, they’d swiftly moved on further away to a new table that had just then become available.  With a continuing frown on his lips the stranger downed cup after cup of the wine, losing his temper at the slightest delay in the next supply which was kept steady to his table.  But, despite the amount of wine he had consumed, he’d remained quite unaffected and not the slightest bit inebriated.

By now most of the customers had moseyed on to elsewhere to pass the night- for no one took in sleep in this heat, leaving the dining-room half empty.  The wind had long ago subsided and had allowed the heat to increase to still greater, more intolerable levels. 

With many of the regulars (patrons) pouring outdoors for relief they crowded the streets, more so than during the daytime.  The stranger continued with his drink, his expression changing only slightly to register boredom.  He had noted Svein’s brief but interested look at his sword at the time of his entry to the premises.  Recalling that fact, he again stole a sidelong glance at Svein, who was thoughtfully sipping his tea, his void stare affixed to his cup.

“I can simply take my leave; never knowing more…Hmm. Then again, what harm is there in casual conversation…?”  When the waiter just then brought over a fresh pot of tea, Svein discreetly made his inquiries about the specific stranger.

The waiter, concealing his surprise for Svein, had never shown such interest in anyone, drawing close, imparted to Svein what little he knew about the arrogant stranger.  He told of how only twice before the stranger had wandered in to consume a meal and large quantities of their best wine, behaving with consistent haughtiness and condescension.

“Furthermore, he seemed to have an endless supply of funds, an abundant gold in his possession.” The waiter then as if just been reminded, added quickly in a hushed voice: “But both those other times he was in the company of another and from the looks of him, a foreigner also.  They are not from these parts, I’m sure of it.  Do you wish to make his acquaintance?  Perhaps I can be of some service.”

No, no,” Svein rejoined hastily, “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary… A passing curiosity, that’s all.”

A pair of other waiters, who happened to be close by, noting this exchange, craned their necks and picked up their ears to overhear the conversation.  The innkeeper suddenly appeared on the scene, boxed the ears of the one farthest back; then scolding them both, sent them scurrying back to their tasks.

“Anything else I can get for you, sir?  How about some sweet buns, a specialty of the house, to go with your fresh pot of tea?” the waiter tending Svein, clearing the spare dishes, now asked.

“Nothing further thank you; the tea is quite sufficient.”  With that Svein promptly paid the waiter the amount owed, slipping in something extra for his trouble.  Delighted, the waiter thanked Svein and turned to tend to his other customers.

Affixing his gaze outside the window, “now where have I seen that design before?” Svein inwardly queried, his thoughts reverting to the insignia, the crested eagle design on the sheath and the pommel of the sword’s handle. 

“I know I’ve seen it somewhere before, perhaps another likeness, but why is it I cannot recollect just where?” Absentmindedly he again glanced back up at the stranger and their eyes met in a mute clash.

 It was too late to turn away!  Svein smiled and nodded his head in polite greeting, which was reciprocated by the other. It might have ended there, except the stranger, after exchanging a few words with his waiter, next rose from his seat and, with bold steps, advanced towards Svein’s table.

 A momentary silence seized the room, as all present, suspected trouble as the only likely outcome from one such as him.  But, to their great chagrin, the stranger carrying a formal manner and with courteous words, duly introduced himself as Brandt Dustin then stated his wish to make other’s acquaintance, upon which he waited patiently to be asked to take a seat.

Obliged to respond favorably, Svein at once rose to his feet and, after delivering the formal customary greeting, stated his own name as Audun Colden and invited the stranger to be seated. 

Brandt Dustin expressed his thanks and took the seat across from Audun (Svein).  All those who had witnessed Brandt’s lack of deference and almost hostile manner now rubbed their eyes in disbelief, and at safe distance, huddled their heads together to exchange views and nosh rumors.

Svein was about to call for the waiter for some wine for his guest when a second waiter suddenly appeared behind him carrying a sealed jug of the best wine and two cups.

“I hope you don’t think me too presumptuous”, Brandt apologized, “but I took the liberty of ordering it before.  Please join me in a drink to mark our meeting.”  Then, without waiting for Svein’s response, he broke the seal and emptied wine into a cup, after which he, with both hands, offered it to Svein (Audun Colden). 

This being a gesture of respect and friendship, Svein felt constrained to accept it.  Thanking Brandt, he took the cup (with both hands also) and had the customary three sips before returning the courtesy to Brandt.

“Now, with the formalities out of the way, let us drink as brothers and talk without reserve.” Brandt proposed.

Svein’s polite upbringing would not allow him to show rudeness and refuse the next drink or the next after that.  In this way coerced into consuming several cups Svein deeply buried his feeling of guilt which had again arisen from this defiance of his uncle’s rule. 

Brandt, ignoring Svein’s subsequent protests and claims that he was not a drinker- pressed on Svein to consume still more.

 Though Brandt, on Svein’s insistence, drained thrice the number of cups as Svein did he showed no ill effects.  Svein, meanwhile, became aware of his own state of slight intoxication.  Afraid that he would lose control, he took smaller sips and ultimately longer and longer time to empty each cup.

 Brandt, a consummate drinker, after draining several more cups, had in the interim carefully steered the topic of conversation to the martial arsenals, then to the priceless, famed swords that were passed on to posterity through successive generations.

“Take this sword, for example,” fondling it affectionately while pretending to be slightly inebriated, he boasted, “it’s an heirloom, a priceless treasure also, with a story all its own.

 As one of a pair, it once belonged to Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon” 

He paused to gauge Audun Colden’s reaction, when none was forthcoming, bit peeved, he nevertheless continued, “Of course, you would be far too young to know of that traitor’s name.”

He again, took several more sips, a deliberate hiatus (break), and then quickly added, “But I digress, after the fall of the last dynasty, when our illustrious Sovereign gained his rightful place on the throne, the priceless pair of swords was presented to my master Haskell as a gift, amid other favors, for his rendered valuable services to the throne.”

Svein with his ardent discipline had curtailed his shock and surprise with admirable zeal; on the surface his demeanor appearing perfectly placid and well composed.  His expression had remained unchanged as he continued to listen to the strange accounts of Brandt.  Inwardly, however his soul had been set alight, after hearing the name Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon.

 “Was that not the name on his uncle’s list before it had been so completely erased, during their recent stay at the ‘Heaven’s Gate Spiritual temple’?  What did all this mean?  Had his uncle once served under this vilified Lord?” 

Oblivious to Svein’s inner turmoil, Brandt meanwhile had continued, “My master treasured these twin swords above everything else he owned, and he took them out frequently to admire them and to demonstrate lessons with them.  Since, however, master agile as he was, excelled in fighting with only one sword, often during these special demonstrations he entrusted the other sword to his most prized pupil, Kochi.

“My master had no kin and no offspring to speak of; now trusting and being particularly fond of Kochi, he later adopted him as his own son.  That was why he was especially devastated when Kochi, without conscience, betrayed him.  When one of the gemstones on the handle of the sword was loosened, master wishing to have it repaired right after dinner, had left it outside of its locked cabinet.  How was he to know his adopted son, claiming illness, would excuse himself from the dining area early and, stealing into his room like a common criminal during those few hours, would run away with the treasured sword, never to be seen again.”  Brandt, grinding his teeth with contempt, again reached for the cup and downed its contents all at one go.

 “My master had taught him everything he knew, thinking that Kochi would one day succeed him.  That error in judgment, plus his advanced age, stopped him in the end from recovering his prized possession and avenging the wrong that was done to him.”

“None of his other pupils were of any use.  In his disillusioned state he dismissed them all and withdrew into seclusion.  After some years, finally giving in to my persistence, he took me on as his next pupil on the condition; however, that one day, when I had mastered the skill, I would seek out this villain, avenge my master, and recover the sword so that my master could be buried with the pair.  Now taken ill, he is lying in bed on the brink of death.  Since I have never seen Kochi, and the swords were the only link, my master with some reluctance, allowed me to take the second sword from his side.”

“I’ve journeyed far and wide, spared no effort in trying to apprehend Kochi, yet all traces of that villain or the sword have eluded me.  Now and again, I fear that some great misfortune might have befallen him, and that he might have been buried under earthen debris or he’s in some watery grave along with the sword; but I cannot allow myself to think of such an end.  I have taken a vow not to return till I have completed my task, and my master has given me his word to hang on to life until the day of my safe return.”  At this point Brandt fell into silence, his face showing a mixture of frustration and despair, plus something else that Svein could not clearly discern.

Just then, like a lightning bolt, it struck Svein just where, precisely, he had seen this sword’s twin.  Of course! He now recalled. 

He was no more than six years of age at the time.  While his uncle had been away on a hunting trip he had mischievously gone through his uncle’s personal belongings, then his chest.  Groping about, he had hoped to find something of interest to while away the lonely and boring hours.  To his great delight and thrill, he had then discovered this fine sword at the very bottom, carefully enshrined in several layers of silk.  He could still recall vividly the resulting fury in Stark’s face when, upon his early return, he had caught him (little Svein) red handed, playing with this magnificent sword in his room.  Barely able to lift the sword, Svein was dragging it on the floor, pretending to be a mighty warrior, vanquishing all his enemies and dispensing justice to all. 

As Svein reflected such, he’d assumed the mask of indifference, mindful of Brandt’s scrutiny, latter seeking least sign, anything to substantiate his initial suspicion.  Why else would he have bothered to share a drink and as a gesture of trust, unburden himself so elaborately to a perfect stranger?

Meanwhile Svein had played his part so remarkably well that Brandt presently doubted his prior misgivings about Audun (Svein); moreover, Brandt’s inner frustration mirrored his professed outward words.

 “I’ve even offered a great reward for any information, however slight, that would lead me to achieve my purpose, again to no avail.  No one has seen the twin of this sword or its bearer.  It’s as though they have both vanished from this world.” He shook his head, refusing to call it quits, not after he’d invested so much of his time. 

Brandt suddenly growing serious and in the most direct manner, burrowing his pupils in Audun (Svein), asked, “I will not insult you, sir, by offering you the reward money but, out of compassion and due respect for my dying master, won’t you tell me why you had shown a slight, a glint of interest in my sword earlier at the point of my entry to these premises?  Can I hope, perhaps, that you have seen the likeness of it somewhere before?”

“Now comes the truth; a brazen move” Svein’s face donned a nonplussed (puzzled) look, as if he’d not heard Brandt right.

“I would be most obliged upon receiving any information that you may have, however trivial.” Brandt obdurately (pig-headedly) insisted.

“I am deeply sorry to have caused you any false hope.” Seven, feigning regret, shook his head.

“In truth, I was drawn to it for its striking quality of workmanship, nothing more.  The crested eagle design alone is done to perfection.  I profess to know something about these arts, and it was my appreciation of it which, in this case, drew my attention.  The weapon itself, I’m afraid, is of little consequence to me, since I lack any ability in swordsmanship.”

“Surely you are too modest.” Brandt sham rebuked Svein’s claim of limited knowledge of martial arts and arms.  “Why your physical bearing alone tells of your competence and no doubt, formidable skill.”

“You do me too much honor, sir.” Svein blushed with due humility.  “I do daily exercises to keep fit and, besides my other chores, I cut wood and, on occasion, scale the mountains or hunt for game.  That is all.”

“By your words, you profess to know archery at least.” Brandt grinned.

When pressed further by Brandt to give some account of his years and background, Svein had wisely hinted at an age at least four more years older than his own and purported to be the third or fourth son of some local official somewhere, undetermined region.  He had supposedly gained some formal education from private tutors and even this bit of useless info had been relayed as insinuation, hint or suppositions under the guise of plain humility (all without the benefit of real facts or details).

He is far too clever to cave. Brandt huffed.  Though inebriated he is still exercising caution, not giving anything away.  All night long his answers to my questions have been evasive.  I know nothing further, nothing tangible about him, than when I first took this seat at his table. 

“All right, perhaps I was mistaken.”  This time Brandt did not insist.  Surely this Audun Colden has private reasons of his own for his ambiguity and professed ignorance.  Perhaps he is afraid of meeting a challenge from me.  Perhaps he is but a coward after all.

 “Then perhaps you can still be of some assistance to me.  During your journeys to and from this town, have you ever encountered a stranger, an elderly gentleman with only one arm?”

Svein’s suspicions further escalated, on the outset he made a pretense of jogging his memory, then smiling, shook his head in the negative once more.

“That is most unfortunate.” With a despondent look on his face, Brandt sighed. 

After downing another cup, he dejectedly leaned back in his chair then explained further, “I had neglected to mention it earlier, but Kochi, because of an accident he’d suffered shortly before his evil deed, had his right arm severed at the elbow.  This description was given to me as my only other way of identifying him.”  His eyes once more burrowed deep into Svein, persistent on receiving a response from the other.

“I regret that I am still unable to offer you any hope, despite my sincerest wish to do so.”, came Svein’s standard, unruffled, genuine reply.

“I was just hoping.” Brandt pursed his lips, in feigned dismay. “Unfortunately, like so many, in this god-forsaken town not a single clue has surfaced to give me scant hope.  At least in other towns, other cities, we were led to people bearing some resemblance to Kochi, to some renegade cripples with one arm.”

We?...  Svein nevertheless, curbed his inquiry. 

Was Brandt’s other companion, the one the waiter told of earlier, also in pursuit of his uncle?  For, no mistaking it, it was Stark they were after.  These facts, the twin sword, the right arm severed at the elbow all tallied perfectly. Then again, it was inconceivable that Stark would have ever consented to being the pupil of a master who was once an advocate of the usurper Sovereign.  The subsequent accounts were equally implausible and thoroughly contrary to Stark’s nature!

Svein for a brief spell had mulled over the validity of Brandt’s claims and the alleged ignominy; this lapsed judgment and the unpardonable slur, undeserved dishonor to Stark’s integrity, both angered and at the same time shamed Svein.

 Curtailing these negative emotions however, he stole a discreet glance at Brandt. 

Oh, he is shrewdly deceptive.  Even his bearing does not correspond to what he claims.  Despite this disguise of plain clothes, he looks to have grown up amidst affluent surroundings. I would venture a guess: an aristocrat perhaps?  But why concoct such an elaborate story to slander Uncle’s good name and to entrap him? Surely this was more than an expanded attempt to recover a sword or settle an old (score) vendetta.  What was Brandt after? 

Svein could not shake the ominous feeling that there were far graver consequences at stake here.  He quickly estimated the time: “Uncle has lived in seclusion for at least the course of my life, some 20 years and Brandt was, according to him, only four years my senior.  How could one so young bear such contempt for Uncle and be seeking him to exact revenge?”

For there was no mistaking it, there had been that pure, unadulterated hatred and lust for vengeance disclosed in Brandt’s eyes at every mention of Kochi- clearly a fabricated name for Stark?

Though Svein wished to pry further into this matter to learn this stranger’s true aim in seeking out Stark, he abstained in favor of caution.  He was obliged nevertheless, in carrying out this charade to its natural conclusion and though this deceptive game sickened him at heart, he intoned his sympathies and understanding for the other’s plight, adding that no offense was taken to Brandt’s persistence.

From the start, Brandt had this nagging gut feeling that, at long last, he’d been poised at the heels of his allusive prey, a good solid whiff perhaps and he would uncover him- but nothing untoward had happened to substantiate this prior hunch. Subsequently, observing the sincerity of Svein’s tone and manner, Brandt had to concede that once more, he had followed a false instinct. 

 “Why, this man before me is no more knowledgeable or formidable than the local thug (ruffian).  Now, if only Audun here was some years younger, then I may have some slight cause to persist”. Brandt nodded absentmindedly, “but he is clearly a good four years older than the one I seek!”

Suddenly tiredness weighed heavily on Brandt.  Lapsing into brooding, he reflected impatiently and indignantly on how much time he had wasted questioning all manner of denizens of this and other such detestable outposts at the far fringes of the Empire, how he had searched every city, town, district or settlement all to no avail! 

As he downed several more cups in swift succession however, his expression changed momentarily, and his lips drew a most sinister smile.  Brandt’s thoughts had reverted back to Duan, the cold, unfeeling assassin who was his accomplice, his so-called companion. 

Had he been with him at this time, this so-called Audun Colden would not have lived to see another day? 

Looking away, again his lips parted in that venomous wry grin, uncovering perfect teeth as a fleeting picture of the cut up, maimed bodies of those who were merely suspected of knowing something flashed before his mind’s eye.

 “So, what if they had proven to be a false lead?” Duan had argued the point coldly, “In the end had it not been better to have snuffed out their miserable existence than, on the off chance, let the real one escape?”

 Of the two of them, Brandt was the one better natured; Duan, totally at odds with everyone, seemed to thrive on bloodshed and pain.  Unfortunate were those who crossed paths with him.  Indeed, Duan was incapable of feeling remorse or compassion, but Brandt needed him and without him he could not realize his wish.  For that reason, Brandt had put up with a lot and had always given in to the other’s whims and incessant demands.

Svein had persisted with this discourse, hoping in all that time to uncover the truth about Brandt and his accomplice; however, Brandt was quite adept at this game of deception, and had not let on any useful info; furthermore, increasingly seen as a dangerous adversary, Svein decided now to swiftly end this fruitless exchange.

Coincidentally just then, the innkeeper came to his rescue. “Gentlemen, now please,” he said plaintively, gesticulating in part as he approached them somewhat timidly, fearful of an angry response from Brandt, “Begging your pardon sirs, but please finish your drinks.  We are way past our closing time.  See, everyone else is already gone.”

Startled from his dismal contemplation, Brandt did not take this intrusion too kindly and threw a threatening glance at the innkeeper, which sent the annoyed proprietor, nevertheless, with lowered head, scurrying away to a safe distance.

 Cursing under his breath at this wasted time, Brandt, with a wry smile, turned to address Svein and, after some perfunctory words of farewell and other such, rose to his feet and, ignoring the waiters who rushed to get out of his way, exited the Inn.

Svein, following suit, rose from his seat and went outside, for supposedly a solitary walk to clear his head, deliberately choosing the opposite direction than Brandt.

Soon he was swallowed up by the dark, moonless night. A change in weather, and the sweeping, cooling winds had blanketed the sky with ominous clouds.  Using this to his advantage, he moved stealthily, with the agility of a cat, far above the ground.

 

(END OF SECTION 5)