LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC
THE TRIP TO THE MONASTERY - SECTION 2
Anticipating tad spare
time before their so-called admittance to the grounds, Stark, dawning a
patient, placating smile, succinctly and in measured tone next imparted to
Teuquob of the fierce struggle that had lasted for more than two hundred years of
Wenjenkun’s history between some eighteen religious sects- with the resultant,
subsequent fortifications. “Regrettably,” he then reiterated, “at the
conclusion of this bloody, turbulent era, thirteen sects with their ritualistic
practices, had ceased to exist and their places of worship, along with untold,
ancient books bearing incalculable wisdom, rare works of art, had all been
incinerated or razed to dust. “
The subsisting five,
adopting cautionary measures, had consequently sought to gain the patronage of
the reigning monarchs and their overlords. Having succeeded in this aim, these
religious orders had for a time enjoyed exemptions from all levies, conscript
labor, and further boon, became the recipient beneficiaries of abounding lush
tariffs and precious offerings. Naturally, they had flourished in both power
and opulence, with their resounding vast religious spheres of influence lasting
for decades. When the last sovereign faced the danger of usurpation from Field
Marshall Zuronghan and once more the entire country was cast into turmoil by
the warfare (skirmishing) between loyalists and supporters of the Field
Marshall, these five sects had remained in aloof obscurity, claiming vacillating,
irresolute allegiances, pending of course on the outcome of latent battle- to
the portended victor. As a result, they
had been spared but only just, from the wrath and the subsequent bloodletting
that had ravaged the country from then eventual, victorious Zuronghan, in the
wake of his irrevocable ascent to the throne.
Kept under a watchful eye, the small number of temples belonging to these five sects, scattered throughout, in remote, high altitude, inaccessible settings, were allowed to persevere with their precarious existence. Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple being one such, only the most devout, well-endowed pilgrims undertook such a daunting task of the trek to here, during the short summer months, as this also happened to be the safest time. Gone were the days when mass amounts of pilgrims, despite the distance and grueling aspects of travel to such heights, still made the journey required for their soul’s eternal salvation. Then also in those bygone days, the steady streams of rich carriages, mounted gentry and ordinary folk on foot, beasts of burden laden with bribes, gifts, and offerings - all contended for space on these narrow stairways leading up to the Temple.
According to each
pilgrim’s means- typically sometimes these important guests staying the entire
two months - certain provisions would be made within the temple grounds for
their suitable accommodation. Private apartments, set in enclosures within the
high walls, affording them both privacy and comfort, each with countless rooms
complete with kitchen and courtyard, during high season these would be thronged
with incessant, beehive activity as most influential guests came equipped with
their large entourage of wives, children, stewards, servants, and slaves.
These compounds stood vacant for the ten remaining months of the year; but during high season these and the rest of temple grounds came alive liken to the sleeping giant being awakened. Days were filled with the most elaborate set of ceremonies of worship, whether it is for the sake of the ancestors, or for specific deities, or for other sacrifices. The nights were reserved for modest vegetarian feasting sometimes lasting till dawn, in the wake of charged spiritual lectures, and grueling nocturnal sacred rituals that invigorated the appetite.
At appointed times during
the week the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, aged 89 years and who, like his
predecessors, laid claim to immortality, presided over the grandest of
ceremonies. At this time, acting as host (emcee), His Eminence, through his
silent prayers, directly communicated the requests of his guests to the
appropriate God in charge. For all this,
privilege the guests paid handsomely.
Indeed, with those days
long gone, some aspects remaining the same, the Temple welcomed the devout,
affluent few during the summer months; whilst for the remainder, the
inaccessible Sanctuary banned ingress to all supplicates. During such
isolation, The Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, Prior Sckeno, Precentor Steran, Sacrist
Yun, Hosteller Ruwo, Almoner Qure, Celarer Wou, Infirmarian Wuno were
proficient in their various tasks. In addition, they and the junior priests
along with the novices devoted their time to highly regiment cleansing rituals,
prayers and other such cultivation of their souls. Each had to partake in
grueling martial exercises, to strengthen the body as well. For humility, no
task being too minuscule, they took turns in overseeing certain necessary
chores such as working in the kitchens, dormitory, granary, lavatory,
infirmary, as grounds’ keeper, work on building repair and so forth. They would
cultivate gardens medicinal or otherwise, copy ancient manuscripts, practice
art and calligraphy, meditate, and do mental exercises to keep in top physical
and mental form.
Notwithstanding, for the
purposes of security, Stark had deliberately chosen this particular period, of
early spring, to gain admittance to the temple grounds.
The guards at the
outposts, positioned in accordance with the four directions of the earth, had
already forwarded notice of their approach to the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn. On
His Holinesses’ explicit orders, no contradictory action had been taken to
dissuade or impede their progress; nevertheless, as added precaution the party
had still been detained at the gate house for a spell whilst pertinent things
were sorted out.
Most intrigued, Abbot
Boqast Tizanzenn, carefully observing the said object, to ascertain its
validity, inwardly questioned, why would latter take such a risk, what
indeed propelled him for this dangerous precedence? Then after some moments
of thoughtful deliberation, shrugged, He would learn of the reasons soon
enough.
His Holiness then gave his
consent for their admittance and issued the orders to his subordinates
accordingly. All inconvenienced, the monks hurried the novices to open
apartments and make ready the necessary rooms to receive the guests. Meanwhile Stark, Svein and Teuquob were
directed to the waiting hall where, with great courtesy, they were shown to
their seats and promptly served some fragrant, herbal tea. The horse had
already been led away to the stables to be properly looked after there.
No sooner had the guests finished their hot
tea and the cups had been cleared away, then a priest calling himself Lucon,
accompanied by subordinate monks, came forth to make official introductions and
to extend prescribed greetings and felicitations.
It was then that prudent Stark, deciding on the spur of the moment, had introduced Teuquob and Svein as his offspring.
Looking at them askew, Stark presently
concluded, that the two were indeed most believable as siblings, so, none would
question the validity of his claim.
As the subordinate monks stood to the side,
prudish Lucon acting in capacity as the spokesperson for the Abbot Boqast
Tizanzenn, promptly relayed next his superior’s formal greetings, offered
proper apologies and gave succinct reasons as to why his superior was presently
indisposed to receiving them in person.
Stark in keeping with this
façade, with humble, yet grave demeanor, consistent with protocol- satisfied
latter’s subsequent, circumspect inquiries, by offering his apologies in
conjunction with his pseudo reasons for their inconvenient (ill-timed), yet compulsory
intrusion.
Svein a quick study, had
followed suit and played along his part admirably.
For even in this House of
Gods, there might dwell unseen eyes and ears of a mole, a conduit for the
sweeping tentacles of the reigning monarch that was known for his mistrustful
nature.
Allegedly much in demand,
Lucon, professing his apologies, had then regrettably entrusted his guests to a
disciple Lu and took his leave.
Disciple Lu armed with a bound book and writing implements, first dipped his brush in ink and then promptly, with apt efficiency registered in shorthand script form, all the pertinent facts concerning their visit, their immediate and long-term requirements, the planned length of their stay and so forth. After thanking Stark and extending his assurance of speedy compliance with all the noted requirements, he also took his leave.
Senior Monk named Fayet subsequently coming
forth to introduce himself; he then announced that he was entrusted with the
task of overseeing to all their personal requirements and needs during the
length of their stay.
After their luggage was
assiduously carried away by minion novices, portentous Fayet then ushered the
honored guests to their hastily prepared quarters. On the way he apologized
profusely for the lack of a welcoming committee, and later still, for the
inaptness of their rooms, hinting, with brazen audacity, that more appropriate
quarters could have been duly arranged had they only abided by the rules and
came at the allocated time. Expressing astonishment cloaked in genuine concern,
he then blabbed on endlessly about prior patrons that had sought the same but
had been typically denied entry and in one or two such instances with the
resultant, totally unwarranted reprisals/retaliation, which had been to their
person.
Lost in his own head, he continued mumbling to himself in audible form and venturing a guess that, surely Stark’s manner of speech that had marked him as a man of great learning and of high position, and that his company also being seemingly significant personages- again deviating from norm of the prescribed rules of their order- they had been exempted from the forthright inquiry into their ability to meet the anticipated expenses.
Though annoyed, Stark kept
his temper in check with this inconsistent monk, who with his persistent, not
so subtle prying, sought to gain certain insights as to their person and
endeavor.
After Stark, Svein and
Teuquob were settled in their adjacent quarters they were left to refresh
(clean up), have a change of clothing and take some well-earned rest.
The following day they
received the expected invitation from the Prior to call on Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn. Their visit to him, though brief,
was still most informative and harmonious.
Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn brilliant, quite discerning, and wise, was a most spontaneous, charming, unassuming and unconventional priest. Despite his advanced age of over eighty (89), he was charged with energy and talked and moved with the vitality of a young man. His high office gave him no superior airs and he carried the humblest view of life.
From the first, Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn had
pretended and so treated Stark as though a new acquaintance, mere stranger;
nevertheless, an influential person of means and a potential benefactor,
decidedly one held in favor with the present Sovereign and so well deserving of
deferential treatment. This had been
enough, though not entirely, to dissuade many resident monks, from unwarranted
questions and interest.
The next evening, according to protocol, the
second invite had followed, requesting Stark, his son Svein and daughter
Teuquob’s presence at a small ceremonial dinner in the secluded Jade and Gold
Harmony Hall. At this informal gathering
the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, coming forward to greet Stark personally, had first
inquired after the other’s health and comfort then escorted Stark to the place
of honor, on the podium, to seat right next to him.
Carefully selected small,
combined group of covert loyalists, trustworthy associates and other such
notable priests that were present, in response to this well calculated feat;
expectantly, with their curiosity peaked, they strained their eyes and sharpened
their wits, and so easily ingested, regurgitated, the ensued, so-called vital
info pertaining to their guests. An accomplished mean, those suspect spies
rested easy in mind, that Stark had to have been an influential personage in
covert service of reigning monarch, and therefore, one not to be further prod,
to be crossed, (to be trifled with,) or informed upon.
All through dinner, Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, endowed with a special gift of the gab, chatted amicably, cryptically with Stark, with nonbeing the wiser; and both in turn was apprised of the most recent developments, in that assumed role of honored guest and host.
Also deceived, Svein took
delight in the animated ease with which two brilliant minds Stark and His
Holiness, conversed, in contrast to Stark’s usual reserved air. The contagious
sincerity of delightful smiles and harmonious chatter permeated throughout the
night, as they partook in that simple, yet most enjoyable fare.
Subsequent morning Stark
received the customary request to provide the list of names for which he wished
prayers to be offered to, by His Holiness. Stark quickly overcoming the slight
mishap, completed the unusual list on the offertory paper provided, in Svein’s
presence, so that he too will be in the know. After placing the information in
a sealed envelope which had been courteously provided to ensure the guests a
certain measure of privacy, Stark then summoned Fayet and handed it over, to be
delivered to the hand of the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn himself.
All during, owing to his training, Svein had most admirably masked his surprise, conducting himself with certain decorum. The instant Fayet and the attendant novices had cleared the room, Stark turning his attention back on Svein, his face bearing the strangest of expressions and forcing a half smile to his lips, he then said, “I am disposed to answer any questions you may wish to pose regarding the list, Svein.”
This unexpected turn threw
Svein into a quandary. True, it was his wish to learn who the third name on the
list had been, “Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon” that of which his uncle had
inadvertently, what it seemed to have been a moment’s lapsed judgment, had in
encrypted form written it down, but then quickly, most meticulously taken the
pains to permanently erase all traces of it, and supplanting it with
“Furen Bevrad ”. First, he had ever seen of it, Svein had been
rather perplexed by this presumably mystery relation or clansman bearing the
surname Zhon? More pressingly however,
he wanted to know why had Stark, forgoing precaution, had written first on the
list, albeit in encrypted form, the late Sovereigns name?
But, abandoning his
curiosity of the first issue for the sake of the second and the disquiet it
entailed, he replied, “Uncle, please forgive my audacity, but I must question
the prudence…. umm, the first name on the list.….? Sir, I meant to say, how you
can be ascertained of His Holiness’s….?”” Svein abruptly fell silent, noting
Stark’s sudden stern expression, liken to gathering storm, as all color drained
from latter’s face.
Now he’s s gone and
done it; his uncle was furious with him!
But, before Svein could
explain, “Svein, by your words you have disgraced His Eminence and me.” Stark’s icy retort resounded in the air. Then
quickly curtailing his fury, he hissed: “I am aware of the far-reaching tentacles
of that usurper, that villainous, self-proclaimed monarch who now sits falsely
on the Celestial Throne...! How dare you be so impertinent as to question the
soundness of my judgment?”
Too choked up to continue, he abruptly rose and, with a sweep of his sleeves, left the room.
Svein was left in a most
distraught state. Seated motionless in his chair, his head hung low, and his
eyes stared blankly at the floor. But
his agony was not prolonged, as Stark, in an unexpected turn, re-entered the
room in a more calmed state. Svein rushed to kneel before his uncle, offering
his most humble apologies, “Forgive me, uncle, for speaking out of turn as I
did just now!”
“How do you suppose, in all the years of
seeming isolation, I have been apprised of the most recent, pertinent
developments? And where do you think most of your manuscripts that you have so
diligently studied, were sourced from?” Stark drawing close whispered in
Svein’s ear, same time offering a conciliatory hand, raised Svein to his feet.
“Dear nephew, please do not burden yourself further with worry as it was only
for a moment, that I had the lapse of judgment, before quickly rectifying it.
But you are not entirely in the wrong; for as far as I can note, and His
Eminence expressed the same, even in this remote segment, there have been some
minor infractions, so called infiltration by the questionable, noted few. But
as I understand it, they shall soon, along with their accomplices, be
expunged.”
Once more seated, Stark
thoughtfully stroked his beard and, after some time, added, “Meanwhile, we
continue as before, only, despite all seeming appearances be more vigilant.
Teuquob must be apprised of the developments also, especially, where that monk Fa,
is concerned.” Svein nodded his
compliance; for Stark needed no further words to make clear his meaning.
But was it an
oversight, Svein inwardly queried, why
had Fa been assigned to such close quarters, to oversee their personal needs!
“Sometimes it is better to keep those
questionable beings in closer proximity, so as to steer them to the course of
seemingly plausible misinformation.” Stark, anticipating this also, simply
shrugged. “Regardless, Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn is a discerning man, I’m sure he
has his reasons.”
“As for the other matter,”
Stark then strove to explain, “I am most appreciative of the tact you have
demonstrated, despite your curious nature, and the way you have admirably
abstained, even now, from questioning me on the supplanted name. I can therefore
give you this assurance, when the timing is right, in not-too-distant future,
you shall be apprised of the facts, and that is to say, your quandary shall be
resolved.” However, Stark falling silent, inwardly professed, I could not
leave out the first cryptic name off the list that was non-negotiable!
“Nevertheless, “he then added in measured
tone. “bear in mind that so long as I live and breathe, I was once, and still am,
His Late Highness Zuronghan Therran
Valamir’s vassal and, as a son bears absolute loyalty to his father, so must
every subject to their Leigh.”
He lapsed into prolonged
silence thinking, “By rights, when His Royal Highness ascended into the
heavens, I should have followed him there to serve him in the afterlife. But,
alas, I must endure this great shame and go on living in this world of shadows
a little while longer, because I was entrusted with the responsibility of
caring for you, the last of your father’s line and, since I had given my most
powerful oath to your father long before this great injustice to my Sovereign,
I was bound by honor to keep it. But, once my obligation is fulfilled, and I am
free…” Looking away, he again inwardly reiterated. “Yes, only then, can
I join my beloved Sovereign and be able to carry peace and contentment in my
heart.”
Emotionally charged, thinking of his forsaken
son, his eyelids just then brimmed with tears. But a long time ago Stark had
dispatched orders that no action should be taken and in so doing, inevitably
condemned his own flesh and blood to a lifetime of misery. The up-to-date news
from Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn had again rehashed old wounds. He had hoped and
prayed that his son would be spared and his life extinguished long ago. But all
this time he had been kept alive, just barely, in a dungeon. Years of torment
had so maimed and disfigured Bern
Teodemer Lothair, that informant had been repulsed by the gruesome image (that
greeted his eyes), the prisoner more an animal than a being.
Pitying him, he had had entertained
the notion of defiance and somehow effect a mercy killing. Still kept as a decoy to draw Stark or his
supporters out, Bern Teodemer Lothair had been so well guarded however, that
the informant reluctantly in the end had aborted the intent.
This (fact that so little
can be done) had always weighed heavily on Stark’s conscience and now even in
this place all he could offer was his silent prayers of solace and perhaps a
quick end to his son’s life. But that would not be (happening, transpire); he
knew the extent of Zakhertan Yozdek’s barbarism.
All this while, an
unspeakable sorrow had also grazed Svein’s heart, as he with shame, presently
bowed his head in thoughtful silence. The grave atmosphere of the room dense
with raw emotions was suddenly startled, when Teuquob just then knocked at the
door and asked permission to enter.
Before Stark, now composed, voiced his
consent, he turned to Svein and mumbled, “Teuquob need not know, the entirety
of the list.”
Svein nodded his head, in
understanding. He wished to say more to his uncle, but words failed him. Stark
gave a placating smile as he looked sympathetically into the young man’s eyes
then, remembering Teuquob at the door, called out to her, his permission to
enter.
~
(Stay tuned, for there’ll be more unexpected and amusing developments unfolding in the next post of “The Trip to the Monastery” – Section 3)
