LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE ASSASSINS- SECTION 17
Brandishing his sword as he stood in ready stance, Alec bellowed, “I am Heng Erling, the only surviving son of Marshal Gustav Erling and I have waited all my life for this day of vengeance!”
“I should have known you were (false)
duplicitous right through” Nevetsecnuac fumed.
“A leopard doesn’t change its spots!”
“Call
it what you will, “Heng Erling laughed. “Brace yourself, for you shall be the
first to perish at my hand, and that cursed Lord Asger isn’t going anywhere,
either. He forsook his own flesh and
blood son Ivar Marrog Zhon, in place of you and, while you grew up in relative
safety and comfort in that mountain cabin, his son from infancy has been
languishing in a dark, foul dungeon beneath the Capital, never knowing a day
without torture.”
“Hah, you think him a noble Lord, but in all
these years, he never strove or mustered able men to rescue his own flesh and
blood; instead, he cowered like a spineless fiend, biding his time and
nourishing dreams of glorious return on your coattails, in that mountain
retreat?”
“I’ve heard enough out of you. How dare you
malign uncle, a noble Lord with your false, delusions; is there no end to your
treachery?” Nevetsecnuac brandishing his
sword, raced towards him with the ferocity of a tiger.
All during the ensued fight Nevetsecnuac tried
desperately to repute Heng Erling’s shocking revelations (disclosed facts)
about Lord Asger’s forsaken son; unbidden however, certain facts too swiftly rushed
to mind validating some of it, such as the seemingly benign incident in the
“Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple”. Nevetsecnuac recalled all too vividly,
Asger’s (Stark’s) accidental inclusion of the name “Ivar Marrog Zhon” in the
list, before his quickly erasing it. And recently still, when at the stables
Alec, rather Heng, had made the mention of Asger’s son, Nevetsecnuac recalled,
how he was curtly stopped. Nevetsecnuac’s conscience thus troubled him as he
fought two wars within and without; therefore, for a time Nevetsecnuac’s prowess
had been hampered while he fended off Heng’s repetitive, fierce offensives.
Heng with his physiological warfare, thus, once or twice had almost got the upper hand and very nearly vanquished Nevetsecnuac. On one instance, Nevetsecnuac back flipped to escape the brunt of the blade that instead, cut a razor slice across his chest. Rebounding quickly however, for Nevetsecnuac’s admiration and love for his uncle, Lord Asger was infinite; he had again picked up the momentum and very nearly bested Heng.
Equally resilient Heng withstood these
offensives with his remarkable strength, skill and agility; meanwhile,
encouraged by the prior result, again he strove to further disarm Nevetsecnuac.
“Some say Ivar Marrog Zhon has been kept
alive, barely, as a ruse to draw the traitor from his secretive lair, but our
Sovereign could not have known the heartlessness of this Lord,”
Heng spat the word Asger, as he continued with
his deadly strikes.
“Some hero; he ran away in the heat of the battle, while his castle, his lands were being besieged, forsook his obligation to his father’s bloodline, for the likes of you? Answer me this, does Lord Asger hold aspirations of grandeur, thinking of the day of your being reinstated to power? Fool, as if that would ever happen!”
“You know nothing of the truth.” Nevetsecnuac
could not help but bellowed back, even though grasping Heng’s sly strategy, he
had already resolved to maintain inner composure while concentrating an all-out
effort at defeating this very dangerous, and cunning adversary.
“As
for your beautiful wife, when I’m done with you both, she'll make a fine
present for His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek to defile and torture. Eunuch Egil Viggoaries can (devour) chew on
the bones of your twins afterwards!"
Undeterred, Heng threw his head back in a monstrous laugh.
Despite his doggedness, Nevetsecnuac felt as though ice water had been poured all over his steaming body. At the same time inexplicable sorrow had seeped into his heart as he, a recent dad, grasped the full implications of Lord Asger’s supreme sacrifice.
Fiery contempt for Heng flamed in Nevetsecnuac’s
chest and filled his spleen with rage.
Grinding his teeth, he reviled Heng, and at lightning speed he again powerfully struck the
other. They clashed, weapons thrusting,
flailing against each other. During this
deadly exchange (skirmish) Nevetsecnuac suddenly realized that Heng had
concealed his true abilities at all prior confrontations; in fact, his fighting
skills were most formidable, far more formidable than Duan’s. With the added advantages of incorporating
Nevetsecnuac's fighting style alongside his, he had now become a most fierce
(challenging) adversary, a virtually invincible opponent.
Presently, with such ardent, livid
antagonists, the earth shook (trembled) from the ferocity of their combat.
Limbs of trees fractured or splintered, surrounding foliage and the like were
all pulverized or destroyed, rocks, boulders were smashed to bits, split apart
or uprooted, as the intense conflict ceaselessly continued.
Lasting all night, after countless rounds of
pitched battle, still neither of them could gain the upper hand. Each time Nevetsecnuac lunged at Heng his
thrust was nimbly parried and each blow of Heng's was warded off with little
room to spare.
Finally, Heng made an ill-timed thrust at Nevetsecnuac's heart and Nevetsecnuac, with incredible dexterity, spun around it and, twisting his opponent's sword hand, forced Heng to tumble to the ground, dropping his weapon. Heng rolled then somersaulted to avoid the assault that followed, at the same time retrieving (grabbing) his weapon and landing back on his feet to immediately hack back at Nevetsecnuac. Again, each attack was parried, each blow warded off, till the force and lightening rapidity of the strikes barely managed, took its toll on Heng and at one point having lost his grip, his sword flew off his hand aching across the sky to land, rather, be buried in the midst of the nearby lake.
Heng stood, defenseless, glaring at Nevetsecnuac.
"Ask for mercy", Nevetsecnuac
shouted, "and I'll spare your life."
"I'll see you in hell, first!" Heng swore and darted towards his horse.
"Stop your running and fight, you cowardly fiend!"
Nevetsecnuac had raced after Heng.
Heng’s stallion spooked by this sudden charge
however, had bolted and neighing wildly, nearly trampled Heng under his hooves.
But not before had Heng retrieved something he’d needed from the secret
compartment of the saddle.
As Heng fell back he quickly tugged the items
under his waist wrap; he grumbled a curse on his breath while his eyes briefly
trailed his horse galloping into the distance.
Heng swerved (veered) and looked askance at
the other but knew better than to try approaching Fiery Comet; resigned to his
fate, perfectly composed, he then turned to face Nevetsecnuac.
Now all this had transpired in the blinking of
an eye.
As it was, Nevetsecnuac's code of honor
constrained him from striking an unarmed man.
"That suits me fine.” he tossed the sword aside and rushed to
engage Heng in hand-to-hand combat.
They fought seemingly endlessly, with such
force, such adroitness, the like of which was unseen in any mortal man. Again, the surrounding area became the
casualty of this intense battle. Perfectly matched, the hand-to-hand combat
would have lasted forever and ever, but Heng was fast nearing his patience, and
sought to bring a quick resolution to this obvious impasse.
And so, after his deadly strike, in an
unexpected maneuver, Heng turned tail and fled, as he ran, he withdrew handful
of tiny razor-sharp metal spikes with poisoned tips, from beneath his waist
wrap, then while still running he half
turned and hurled them with lightning
speed at Nevetsecnuac.
With incredible agility, Nevetsecnuac dodged the deadly spikes’ course, and the metal spikes continued, flew by and buried their heads in the same ancient tree that his sword had once sliced.
“Blast!!”
Heng cursed under his breath, as he same time, taking advantage of
Nevetsecnuac's momentary distraction, in lightning speed, retrieved the other
concealed poisoned stiletto from his high leather boot.
First, he allowed Nevetsecnuac to catch up
then, whirling, Heng swiftly (longlined it) thrust the blade into
Nevetsecnuac’s chest, having held no qualms at all about killing an unarmed
foe.
Failing in this, for Nevetsecnuac’s quick
action hurled it from his hand and buried it into the midst of thick, thorny
bush, Heng somersaulted, shot through the air and dove right into the frigid
waters of the lake. He was gone from view only for a spell, emerging shortly
after brandishing the blade in his hand; he landed squarely in front of
Nevetsecnuac who was rushing to retrieve his discarded sword. Unarmed Nevetsecnuac with sure proficiency
fended of the deadly assault then swiftly arriving at the spot where he had
discarded his sword earlier, he nimbly kicked it to waist height with his toe,
grabbed it without breaking stride and turned to parry Heng's murderous slash.
Again, they fought for another twenty to
thirty rounds but this time, despite his prowess, Heng, chilled to the bone,
began to falter. In contrast,
Nevetsecnuac maintained his speed and agility and wielded his weapon with such
consummate skill that, in the end, he cut a three-inch-deep swath under Heng's
ribs.
Heng froze in mid-parry then collapsed to the
ground in a swelling pool of crimson.
Blood and curses spat from Heng's lips, each breath making him writhe in
agony as he muttered bitter recriminations against his own impatience,
arrogance and folly in underestimating Nevetsecnuac's competence.
"If only I had waited for the
reinforcements and been content letting the axman take your head. I've failed miserably. My life's ambition has been frustrated." Hot tears mixed with the blood on Heng's
cheeks.
"My doomed father, forgive me. I've condemned you to an eternity of torment,
wearing the chains of ignominy, in the underworld! My beloved ill-fated mother, Lingrace, forgive
me, oh how I have failed you both!”
Heng
swallowed hard, thinking the rest.
Oh
mother, you forsook your virtue and bore such shame during all those years you
suffered the lustful, lecherous pawing of Zakhertan Yozdek. You debased yourself as attendant at his
wife's feet, just so I could live and avenge my father's death. Please mother,
don’t curse me forever; find it in your heart to forgive, to absolve me of my
failings for I’ve done my best, always have; unfortunately, the fiendish foes
are backed by powerful demons. With Heaven forsaking the good, I was doomed to
fail.
This was the only version Heng had desperately clanged to, always believing in his heart of hearts that his supposed angelic, saintly mother had been forced into that compromising situation, in order that her son's life was spared and also that the scant hope was kept alive, the prospect and the sole aspiration of avenging her husband’s untimely, ignominious death!
Ensuing years of her coercion Zakhertan Yozdek had been, by degrees, spared from any
and all blame; instead, intense hatred and animosity had been fueled and then
deferred to that vilified Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and Prince Nevetsecnuac.
In
blind faith Heng envisioned his mother, to his dying breath, as a
self-sacrificing, tragic, victimized and molested heroine, rather than the
deceitful, conniving and ambitious woman that she was.
How could Heng face the ugly truth and keep
intact his sanity? How could his
tormented mind surmise, the underlying, contemptible sole reason, that he had
been spared for the horrific, sickeningly gruesome demises of his elder
siblings, all because his mother had, long before the usurpation, covertly had
intimate liaison with Zakhertan Yozdek.
And that suspicion, the question of Heng's paternity, was what had excluded him
from the executioner’s block (gallows) or fate worse than death.
How
could Heng have guessed at the root of deceit that ran so deep in his mother
that, on this day, when he was sacrificing his own life not to avenge his
father's death, but rather to further her underhanded, selfish desire to
ingratiate herself back into Zakhertan's good graces. And that was the sole reason she had hired
covertly this assassin Duan and constrained him to take her son Heng along for
the ride.
"You can rot in hell; whelp!" Heng's face contorted in pain at the effort
it took to curse.
"I suppose there is no rebellion either,” Nevetsecnuac grumbled as he looked away, understanding the full scope of his deception.
"Haa, ha, haak!," blood welling up
in Heng's throat cut short his sarcastic laugh.
He spat
it out at Nevetsecnuac and gritted his teeth in contempt.
“That’s right, fool. There are no rebels, no battles. The Generals
lead an army of the dead. Ha, ha,
ugghh!"
Pain again cut short his laughter as he
uttered his last words with regret, “Pity that I should be the one to die, not
you. Heaven is not just."
Nevetsecnuac looked away to hide his surging
emotions because he had been dealt with a crushing blow. The lack of rebellion was not the cause of
his turmoil, his deep dismay; however, rather, it was the knowledge of Lord
Asger’s forsaken son. So much had
happened during these last few months. With those entire facts in a streamline
racing through his mind, he plumped his seat down listlessly beside the
lifeless body of Heng.
A great deal of reality had altered. He was not the person he thought he was, neither was his uncle. He’d grown up with, albeit necessary deception. As the past life in quick succession once more flashed before his mind’s eye, it resolved all that mystery he’d grown up with; so much more made sense now.
In
one fell swoop many of his life’s queries had been answered. But worst of it was the knowledge, how his
beloved uncle, Lord Asger had sacrificed and endured such hardships and pain
all on his behalf.
He shuddered at the thought of another
innocent being, sacrificed and forsaken, worst still, imprisoned at infancy,
forced to endure such torment, all because of him.
Lord Asger Marrog Zhon had sent Nevetsecnuac
on, albeit with some reserve, hoping against hope that there would be some
truth to Heng’s claims. Looking at his
bloodied sword, Nevetsecnuac recollected the entirety of his oath to self and
Lord Asger; so, he sat, eyes cast on the ground, staring aimlessly in silent,
pained concentration.
He’d sworn the oath not to return without exacting vengeance, on behalf of all those living or perished souls. Heng’s treachery aside, Nevetsecnuac could not dismiss the fact that, Lord Asger’s son to date languished in some dark dreary dungeon.
With
lowered head, Nevetsecnuac ground his teeth and clenched his fist as he
seethed.
If he
were to return, Asger would never let him go on this perilous rescue mission.
Teuquob
and his bellowed children, their dependence on him could sway his
determination. But how could he last another day, knowingly
perpetuating this unethical, immoral feat (act)? Lord Asger had sacrificed so much… Least he
could do, is try, try to rectify this grave injustice and reunite him with his
flesh and blood son!
Suddenly he knew the action he must take to
make all these wrongs right. He could only estimate the scope of difficulty,
the unforeseen challenges of his chosen (decided) course, but same time he knew
it was the only honorable thing to do.
Springing to his feet, he threw both arms into
the air and let out an earth-shaking roar
“Heaven bear witness to my new vow (pledge),
whatever the cost; I shall exact vengeance on the Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek for
all the wrongdoings he’s committed and, reunite Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon
with his son Ivar Marrog Zhon.”
Nevetsecnuac afterwards (next)
with meticulous care buried Heng Erling’s corpse under some rocks, poured
libation (offering the entirety of wine which Heng had kept in animal skin
vessel/container, and used it sparingly, since the time he’d accompanied Duan)
over his grave and said some prayers for his soul.
At that
moment in time, the first light of day broke; Nevetsecnuac’s eyes beheld a
phantasm dragon suddenly manifest in the crimson sky, which it then quickly sailed
on by amidst red clouds, till it dissipated.
Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully nodded, then unable to
stand still a moment longer he, vaulting into Fiery Comet's saddle, galloped
the steed in the direction of the morning sun.
(THE END OF SECTION 17 – THE CONCLUSION OF THE ASSASSIONS)
