THE RESCUE - SECTION 4

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RESCUE- SECTION 4

Right from the start and all through her cautious trek amidst the thick foliage, Stark and Svein had both simultaneously detected then intuitively tracked Jiense’s progression (advance) through the woods till her happenstance on the combat scene. On Stark’s signal however, they had fought on without cessation - mindful of her presence at the so-called negligible distance- until they’d reached the natural conclusion of morning’s exercise.

Subsequently, incensed as Stark was to ending short the daily routine, he’d notwithstanding, quickly donned his shirt and vest, and then squarely facing Jiense with a forced congenial smile, hastened to close the gap between them.

Likewise, Svein too had retrieved his shirt and vest, but then perhaps too bashful to come forward, he’d remained somewhat hesitant and rooted at the spot, only giving a respectful nod of his head in greetings.

She’d picked up the pace, purposefully averting Stark’s stern eyes while silently berating herself for her brazen foolishness and hoping against hope that she had not incurred too much of the old gentlemen’s disfavor, when just then (off to one side) in a side glance, she caught sight of an exquisite, rare orchid amidst some bushes.

What a fantastic form; such vibrant colors! The urgent desire irresistibly propelled her hand in defiance of her will, to reach for it.

“Don’t touch it!” Stark’s dire warning, however, was negated; but even if she had the means to understand his words, her outstretched fingers had already been pricked by the unseen, pernicious arachnid at the orchid’s stem. The toxin was the venomous (baneful), highly virulent strain that rendered its victim instantaneously comatose, then after a negligible amount of time, dead!

So why didn’t he simply let her die? One might ask.

This could have been construed as an opportune circumstance of the hand of fate. It certainly would have been an apt resolution to the multitudinous, portended future problems and inconveniences her presence entailed. But to an honorable man, there could only be one such recourse: an innocent life, barring complications, had to be still saved at all costs.

“Foolish girl,” Stark in a flash having reached her side just in the nick of time before she’d lost total consciousness and collapsed on the hard ground, picked her up and raced towards the cabin, with anxious Svein in tow- for there’d be scant, precious time to spare, if her life was to be saved.

                                                                                     ~

  After an undetermined time, she’d finally regained consciousness, though in a fevered state and drenched in perspiration, with her head pounding, suffering vertigo and feeling as though her innards, total viscera had been sliced or torn asunder.

“You are most fortunate indeed young lady that I have in my possession this rare antidote.” Stark shook his head. “Your recklessness almost cost you, your life, and it still might. But of course, you don’t understand a word of what I’m saying.” Stark exhaled rather exasperatedly, and then holding the cup to her lips, urged her to ingest some more of the medicine. It was most acrid in taste and almost made her spew it out. When he deemed that she had had enough, he helped to gently recline her head back on the pillow and pulled the covers up to her chin.

“There’s nothing further we can do now, try to get some rest. The fever and chills will pass eventually.”  His words, the intent of it was, nevertheless, being communicated, she nodded and closed her eyes.

                                                                                 ~

 For some time now the meat and vegetable broth infused with special herbs simmering on low heat, gave off an appetizing aroma.  After repast, with everything in Stark and Svein’s life being somewhat regulated, each in their own way was immersed in their specific nightly routine. Stark opting to pass the time by reading a passage from a bound book sat quietly by the crackling fire, meanwhile Svein situated at his study desk dealt with that day’s lessons. Despite the outward appearances however, Svein’s attention time and again had defiantly strayed from his studies, his mind frequently being preoccupied with the convalescing Jiense in the next room.

It had taken her two days and still she had not sufficiently (adequately) recovered; a while back, however, she’d been able enough to have a change of clothing and now in that makeshift nightgown she rested with better ease. Her old garments, though many times soaked with perspiration and such, when she discarded them off to a side and was picked up, looked and smelled fresh as though newly washed. Clearly magical, it had been neatly folded and placed in plain view on the chest opposite to her bed. Reflecting on this and other such inconsistencies, Svein’s resurgent curiosity about her, untowardly again peaked. He stole a cautionary look at his uncle. Nothing fazed Stark; he was very much engrossed in his reading. Why couldn’t he be more like his uncle? In contrast to Stark’s  infinite patience, he had to strive hard at curbing or taming his unbridled, curious nature; and whenever he was faced with least conundrum, as it was the case at present, it’d always nagged at him till he’d solved every bit of  the inexplicable facts.

Svein was suddenly drawn out of his private revere however when just then a sound of stirring was heard (came) from Jiense’s room.

“I’ll look in on her.” Stark ejected in a stern tone, halting Svein’s attempt at rising from his seat and rushing to her side. “You finish your studies.” Stark placed his own book down and going over, he peered through the slightly ajar door. Seeing what he did, that she’d responded favorably to the latest treatment- he turned his head askew and in a hushed voice asked his nephew to fetch him some of the bouillon.  “Absolutely no solids.” he then warned, as the youth in ready response rushed off to fetch a bowl. 

Disappearing now behind the door, Stark went over to his medicine chest, procured a miniature green-gray bottle, and then carefully deposited measure of its contents into the dish that had been promptly delivered to the bedside.  “The medicine and the amount of broth should be sufficient for the night; you may put out the cooking fire and resume your studies.” he addressed the youth now respectfully standing by the door. 

Sometime later he emerged from the room with the empty bowl; when the youth looked up at him questioningly, the uncle smiled reassuringly and after discarding the dish, said, “She should be fine.  In any case, she will now sleep soundly until dawn, and that is what we should be doing as well.”  Covering his yawn with his one hand, he then added, “It has been a rather long and eventful day.  Are you nearly finished with your studies?”

 Svein indicated that they had been completed some time ago, “Good, let us then retire for the night.” and so, the two took their repose in Stark’s room, Svein using the makeshift bed.

Subsequent morning Stark could see that some normal color had returned to her pallid cheeks and that she was now in full possession of her major faculties- such as speech, taste, smell and so forth- although still bearing some inherent signs of physical weakness.  After further scrutiny, paying particular attention to her sensory reactions, he was delighted to ascertain that she’d also regained her full hand eye coordination and that her eyesight, focal vision had not suffered any lasting damage. Her prognosis looked good; expectantly in a day or two she should make full recovery from her terrible ordeal. 

Indeed, most fortunate was she, that he bore the extensive knowledge of a physician, and therefore could accurately diagnose and treat her condition. 

For now, she was confined to her bed and barring some reoccurring convulsions, was urged to get plenty of rest and even some sleep.

During the course of the day Stark planned to check in on her, as he’d done in the prior days, and see to it her condition did not reverse or deteriorate.

Unfortunately, because her constitution hadn’t been as strong as Svein’s- for the boy had also been through this type of infirmity before he’d reached the age of ten- it had taken her considerably longer period to recover from the resulting debilitating symptoms of her terrible ailment.

                                                                               ~

 In all that time, though she took comfort and was appreciative of being under Stark’s competent care, she would all the same missed interacting (communicating) with Svein. As it were, she had only seen Svein once or twice during her lengthy convalescence and that with him always remaining at the doorway, as it was not appropriate for a young man to enter a young lady’s room while she was in nightclothes and in bed. Determinedly close in age, she was curious to learn more of Svein as he was of her. As her first savior, the two had shared a certain affinity and a friendship bond. Seeing him now standing aloof and somewhat dejected by the doorway, she’d wanted to simply call out to him, but again restrained herself in compliance with their rather stringent moral considerations. Meanwhile she held onto that hopeful outlook that she would be back on her feet in no time at all.

Unfortunately, on the subsequent day her condition unrepentantly, again took a turn for the worse. Once more her head throbbed and she suffered with more frequency from the debilitating vertigo, a condition she’d tried her best to conceal from either of them, feeling she’d been far too much trouble to them already.

 But Stark was aware of her resurgent impediments: This did not bode well! Before her condition further deteriorated, however, fearing worse relapse, Stark was now inclined to implement a more drastic measure.

She could fare favorably or suffer the irreversible, grievous (grave) outcome.

His somber expression had quietly alarmed Svein; nevertheless, keeping good faith, he’d obediently followed Stark’s explicit instructions.  In the aftermath of it, decently clothed still, she was given an ice-bath at the stream by Stark. Then after a change of clothing and intake of some inhalants (of specific herbs), she was safely tucked back under the warm quilts.

Presently taking the steaming cup from Svein, Stark placed it on the small table by her bed; then after exchanging some words, Svein took his leave, while Stark returned to the corner where his medicine chest now temporarily rested.  He reached into it again, as he’d done countless of times since her arrival, to procure this time however a miniature reddish-blue colored bottle.  He removed this lid and poured a careful measure of the powdered portion into the hot water and mixed it carefully. This was a risky procedure, a slight oversight in application, a wrong dose- for it was different for each individual case- it could be quite detrimental, worst still, she could be rendered brain-dead; nevertheless, it was the only avenue left to them! When the mixture turned a murky brown color, after a silent prayer, he orally administered it to her. He gently, carefully cleaned of the unavoidable spillage from the corners of her mouth and chin, placed a readied cold compass over her forehead; then going over, he replaced the bottles and put the closed medicine chest aside. Now there was nothing else further left for him to do except to wait for the outcome.

After an uneasy night, thankfully, the dire danger had passed. Ensuing days her prognosis being good, she was well on her way to complete recovery. 

“This added concoction will further restore your vital energies, partake some and have a good rest; by this evening you may even be well enough to join us in the living quarters.” He’d followed his mumbled, hopeful words that morning with sign language that was quite explicit and remarkably clear. She’d understood every nuanced word and gladly received the cup from him. Raising it to her lips without the need of his help now, she’d drunk the entire contents in small, interrupted sips. 

The rest of the day she’d slept soundly, waking at time of dusk, her condition as predicted, quite well, almost rejuvenated. Now for the first time in a long while, she was even able to leave her room, and to the delight of Svein, even ingested some plain food and joined in with the consumption of herbal tea with them.

Without being told she’d retired early however to preserve her newly gained strength. As she would be their guest for an indefinite time barring some other unforeseen circumstances, subsequent days held an interesting set

of challenges, what with all the re-scheduling of some tasks and certain adjustments that needed still to be ironed out or put back on track, to accord her an ease in transition with their regimented lifestyle.

                                                                                  ~

That night, in the wee hours however, Stark and Svein, were suddenly awakened by a cry, a sort of muffled scream from Jiense’s room. Stark bolted from his bed, urging Svein to stay put and quickly dressing, with lighted candle in hand he went out to investigate. He found her in a terrified state shaking violently in a seated upright position in bed, with her eyes pivoted to the far corner where her dress had been neatly folded beside her outer footwear.

As Stark had come in to the room and half turning looked to see the object that held her attention in such frightful trance, he’d witnessed firsthand the terrifying apparition of a fierce, wounded panther  with his maw opened wide in  ferocious growl that  showed his long protruding fangs dripping, oozing  with blood. It had of course disappeared instantly the very moment Stark’s eyes met the haunting, fiery pupils of the predatory beast.

Stalked by such an evil apparition, no wonder a while back her condition had suddenly taken a turn for the worse; unfortunately, anew, she was being targeted. Good thing she had regained most of her vitality in precise time to deter this new onslaught on her psyche and physical wellbeing. Stark understood well now, the (immediate) night and necessary steps he must implement, to curb or altogether avert portended disaster.

 “You saw him too; I’m not imagining it?”  Her urgent plea turned Stark’s attention back on her. In her anguished, distressed state, she’d spoken words in her native, court dialect that had been, remarkably still, perfectly comprehensible to Stark; nevertheless one, that he’d long since abandoned.   “He’s come back to devour, to finish me off!” She drew his attention once more as she’d cupped her hands and begun sobbing.

“Now, now, apparitions cannot harm you.” Putting aside his surprise, he hastened to comfort her in the same lexicon.

“First thing tomorrow I shall use all the means available to me- incantations and prayers, to expel the avenging evil spirit and furthermore, permanently purge such deleterious future intrusions.”

“No use, there’s no escaping death!” She whimpered and despite all his reassuring words, being really shaken up, she continued to tremble like a leaf. Constrained to act, he fetched an appropriate sedative and with her compliance, orally administered it. 

He’d stayed on long after she’d drifted into sound sleep (slumbered state), seated by her bedside in a thoughtful repose recounting the bizarre set of circumstances that had led to this point: The deranged panther that had forced Svein on an unscheduled hunt; her getting been bitten by the rare, deadly arachnid that in turn further weakened her spiritual resolve and allowed the vengeful apparition this loophole.

 But conceivably even before this, perhaps through the purposely planted magical attire, the evil entity had gained the scant opportunity to transcend the protective circle- trespass over the invoked spells, the ancient(antediluvian) incantations  that up until then had acted as an apt deterrent, as well, held the perimeter of their habitat, out of all harm’s way.

Moreover, what were the odds- that in her delirious state the chance disclosure of her obviously closely guarded secret be revealed to the only other person residing in a remote wilderness no less, who could comprehend it?

Pre-ordained or not, there’d been too many coincidences here for him to disregard or to dismiss.

He reflected further (squinting and shifting in his seat). The origin of her spoken dialect was an island kingdom far, far away. How did she come to be, what circumstance had cast her in this remote corner and on this mountain? The enigma must be resolved, though handled delicately.

 His attention then reverting to the supernatural (unearthly) apparel and footwear, he nodded his head with a sure thought: First and foremost, however, these should be properly discarded, preferably this very night, to prevent another infraction/ unacceptable breach by that metaphysical force.

Having so concluded, he’d decisively walked over, his mind musing over an apt incantation that would be the most effective means in disengaging the link. As he reached for the garb and footwear however, that same instant the focus of his attention in a flash both, vanished without a trace into thin air.

This new development both unsettled and irked him.

                                                                                   ~

Sometime later he’d returned to his room with his mind beset with (numerous) taxing concerns, but refused to respond to any of Svein’s queries, for he needed to first sort things out for himself; urging latter instead to show patience and go to sleep. Tomorrow, everything will be explained to him and furthermore, they would get all the answers to the questions that’d been long plaguing them, concerning Jiense or whatever her actual name may be.

 

(Galvanizing facts are revealed in the next post of The Rescue, section 5)

THE RESCUE - SECTION 2

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE RESCUE - SECTION 2 

A small game was roasting over the fire when she suddenly came to.

Having regained consciousness and suddenly recollecting the panther, she bolted to a seating position with a start. Her terrified, baffled gaze however, was met with a mitigating, polite smile from a decisively handsome young man who proceeded to speak to her in a soothing, foreign tongue that she did not, could not truly comprehend. His dialect, the enunciations was even varied from that of Kaimu, his wife Ensa, neighbor Zianko or the son Yoansu’s. One thing was clear however the danger/the otherwise certain death from the beast was gone, and the intensions of her presumed rescuer, as far as she could tell with some measure of certainty, were both honorable and good. He conducted himself with proper decorum and seemed to be both knowledgeable and one of fine breeding. Anticipating her thirst, he had quickly provided her with water from a wooden cup, which she partook appreciatively.

 Hoping that he might be acquainted with her native language, presently she voiced her appreciation for the rescue and for his taking such diligent care of her. Then at a loss what else to say and just then noting his quiver full of arrows laid at the side, quickly asked how he happened to be on this God-forsaken Mountain: was he sporting a hunt?

But her articulated responses were sadly, quite mystifying (baffling) to the young man. In the end, the frustrating exertion made more difficult by the mutual attraction, all they had managed were the polite but succinct introductions: her choosing to announce Jiense as her name to this amicable stranger, and he in turn had mentioned the name Svein. The ensued awkward moment of silence nevertheless was cut short, when Svein noting that the meat was about ready, forwent the wearisome communication and going over, and using his long knife skillfully, sliced off some choice pieces from the main body of the skewered meat, placed them onto wooden slat that served as a plate and brought it over to her for her consumption.

“It’s probably not what you are used to, but please partake some.”   He insisted; suspecting they would have a better luck at the verbal exchange on fuller stomachs.

As Jiense was already famished she accepted it gratefully and without ceremony, soon after chewing, swallowing the delicious, succulent meat, not pausing even to ask, or bothering to guess at what manner of specious she was ingesting.

In the aftermath, warmed by the raging fire, and well fed, using a sign language, she had again thanked him profusely for rescuing her from the maw of the panther- this time more at ease, she utilized her innate skills and therefore more effectively transmitted her intent. Then fell silent wondering what had happened to the beast, worst still, what other prevalent dangers lay ahead?

Deciphering her concerns, by means of sign language and hand gestures he hastened to convey to her that he was both a competent and a willing protector and would most certainly deliver her to safety. His reassuring smile was reciprocated, by a grateful one from her. Then all at once both gone bashful, they had averted (lowered) their eyes. That night she had slept blissfully sound, content to be under his care- for even though she had known him for scant period (such a short while), listening to her intuitive heart, she had placed her implicit trust in him and thereon felt more hopeful for the future.

The subsequent day’s journey, hard as it was, it could be said that it was delightfully exhilarating and even adventurous. When she became tired, he offered, insisted on carrying her and that he did, with certain ease, covering great distances despite the steep ascent- all the while effectively shielding or periodically fending off the all-pervasive treats from predatory animals with astounding regularity in speed and skill in archery. Furthermore, at sundown, when they halted, in contrast to her, he showed no fatigue.

If she marveled at his resilient stamina, his competence, his handsome features or many other fantastically intrinsic (inherent) attributes, she kept them to herself noting (observing) his strange but true, humble nature and bashfulness.

Meanwhile, as he had been encumbered because of her needs of shelter and sustenance and his other charge, of hunting for game along the way- it had taken them an additional five- or six-day’s arduous journey, instead of two, to reach their goal.

Their subsequent path took them right through a precarious topography of high ridges, then a dense forest, each leg of the journey being more arduous than the rest. Then at one point, Svein carefully pushed aside the thick foliage that successfully hid an entrance to a deep cavern.

Before they proceeded to inside Svein halting and then withdrawing from his pouch two sun-dried shoots (buds), handed these to Jiense and signaled for to chew to extract their juice. The juice she can swallow, but the pulp, she was made-to-understand, she should spit it out. She did, as she was, told. The taste, a bit unpleasant, was both bittersweet and sour at the same time. Then, as she chewed, a strange sort of sensation came over her. Her head became dazed; she felt a total lack of inhibition, no fear, as though she was now invincible. Svein, seeing the transformation in her, smiled and politely ushered Jiense (Teuquob) into the cavern. Further in, to (manage) cope with the pitch darkness, Teuquob hung on tightly to the young man’s sleeve as latter led the way, navigating the turns and twists of the rocky, unstable, and dangerous terrain with sure footing. Periodically, there would be certain hair-raising echoes borne out of the deep that (despite the effectiveness of the drug) still put her soul in fright; though invisible to her, she still perceived the existence of chasms, noted the divergent sounds of water, some gushing streams, or trickling brooks far in distance or quite near. Then came the fluttering of wings, bats, and many other such phantom sounds along the way, which unleashed her wildest imagination and sent icy chills up her spine, all the while gripping her heart in an inexplicable fear. At such times, sensing her trepidation, he would abruptly stop and seek out her hand, then gently squeeze it with encouragement.

Since entering the cavern, he had not uttered a single word and when once she coughed supposedly to clear her throat from the perceived dust, rather, to get his attention, he’d quickly hushed her by placing his hand over her mouth, as if peril would arise from such action. Thinking that he needed his hearing to guide his advance- better that, than thinking there were carnivorous, nocturnal winged vertebrates or other such scary beast in readiness to pounce on them- she had remained silent from there on.

They had advanced blindly for what it seemed to Jiense (Teuquob) an eternity, with her imagination playing havoc all the while on the summation of all her fears. Halting briefly once or twice they had eaten dry rations which he had on him, and then continued in this dangerous realm. She was relieved when long at last they reached the end of this elongated subterranean tunnel, safest one amongst the perilous two, that (presumably) cut across underneath the majestic mountain peak, and finally exited the cavern. Thought it was typically the late afternoon of an overcast day, it still took a while for her eyes to adjust to the light that greeted them.

After a brief respite, they resumed their journey that led them to the crossing of a stream then another perilous ridge. Then they trudged upwards yet another steep climb, Teuquob in tow of the young man following an invisible goat’s path and whenever the path widened, she would opt to walking alongside him, all the while trying her best keep up. The perpetual increase in topographic elevation however, eventually caused Teuquob to more frequently labor for breath and to succumb to the inescapable fatigue that plagued her every fiber of her being. This impediment forced her resilient companion hence, to periodically make unscheduled stops or simply carry her- an added encumbrance on top of by then accumulated ponderous load- the bounty of game.

On the morning of the sixth day, they had another, endless, laborious ascent. Having traversed yet another ridge, they dove into denser part of the limitless forest and after cutting across a heavy curtain of thick foliage they quite suddenly emerged into a clearing.

Disbelieving her eyes, Teuquob rubbed them and looked on. The unbelievable scene that greeted Teuquob, which she now took in with a breathtaking zeal, encompassed a phantasmal picture that defied all-norm- a safe habitat existing in such remote wilderness?

True enough, there up ahead in that well-tended open space stood an encased structure that contained within its vicinity: a sturdily built wooden cabin with a thin coiling smoke emanating from the tall chimney at its rooftop; off to one side was a modest stable; then a structure of a storehouse could be seen, and yonder still, a smaller hut that clearly served as an outhouse.  A small patch of encircled ground adjacent to the hut was reserved for a thriving vegetable or an herbal garden.

At the dominating structure that boasted of a covered platform/ a small porch by the entrance, there could be seen a seated elderly gentleman with a well-groomed shoulder-length mahogany brown hair. He had a streak of white hair off his temples that gave him a dignified air; he sported a very becoming thin mustache and a neatly trimmed short beard that further complimented the handsome features of his face. His judicious, prudent manner and noble bearing commanded from any onlooker most profound awe and respect; furthermore, to Jiense’s (Teuquob’s) eyes, with his fine, stalwart physique, he resembled more a general, a commander in chief pondering on or contemplating some strategic warfare, than a mere recluse. Dressed in exquisite damask attire (garb), he appeared to be enjoying pensive smoke from a long carved ivory pipe, which he held in his left hand.

The very moment that Svein and his companion had come into view, the esteemed man’s eyes discreetly meeting Svein’s, it could be said that a glimmer of both delight and concern had registered in those stern pupils, but still he had not stirred from his seat.

The youth presently gave an encouraging look to Jiense (Teuquob) as if to say please advance with me, then quickened his pace to reach the steps of the small porch. As they made their advance, upon closer scrutiny she noted that the end of the long sleeve, of his immobile right arm, going through the overgarment’s side slit, was neatly tucked in under a silk belt at the waist.

Svein having quickly unburdened himself of the loads, he now squarely faced his elder, gave a respectful half-bow, and said in a fond, reverent tone, “Greetings, Uncle, I hope you have been well in my absence.”

The elderly gentlemen’s lips dawned a shadow of wry grin- a slight curving of the ends; he thoughtfully took another puff from his pipe then rose from his seat and facing the youth, in a clear intonation reciprocated latter’s affection with a nod of his head, “Greetings, Nephew. Thank you for your regard. The length of your absence had given me a pause for concern, till that is; my ears tracked (detected) you and your willing accompaniment’s slow advance.”     The manner of his voice tad stern and reproachful, his eyes had surreptitiously now trailed onto her.

“Forgive me, uncle”, the youth hastened to explain, “for my negligence in failing to show proper respect.” In reference to the girl beside him, he then quickly added. “I would have made the proper introductions right away; however, as I’m encumbered by the inability of properly communicating with her in her strange dialect, I’d hesitated.”

“I see,” the uncle looked away. “Though I am sure you had a particularly good reason for bringing her along. Later perhaps you may elaborate on the details of how you came by her?”  With a thoughtful air he then placed his long pipe on the small table and descended the few steps. Coming forward to proximity, he succinctly, but astutely studied the extraordinary girl draped in fineries that were inappropriate for surviving in the woods. Yet his polite, brief perusal, (observation) had revealed, that other than few cuts and minor bruises on her face and hands, there were no other wear and tear on either the fabric that looked to be damask silk or her footwear. The total absence of normal dirt or the least amount of dust on her garments further intrigued him.

Discerning his uncle’s thoughts, the young man nodded. “I have been baffled by that too uncle; clearly her attire bespeaks of supernatural element. Yet she is, and all during, behaved every bit a mortal being.”

“Does this mortal-being have a name?” The uncle then asked in a voice devoid of any emotion.

“Begging your pardon uncle, but as far as I can tell, she is called Jiense. Yet her spoken dialect had born little, if any semblance to the mainstream or any other Indigenous groups in Wenjenkun. At the beginning of our meeting, we have strived, but in vain, at any sort of linguistic communication…” The uncle’s raised hand had at once silenced the youth (cut short the babbling/inconsequential chatter).

” Hmm…And there is quite a variety of indigenous groups within and bordering states of Wenjenkun; hence, this mystery may not be resolved in the briefest time”. The uncle looking away had mused.

 “I presume you’ve hence communicated by way of sign language?”

The youth nodded in the affirmative.

Hearing her adopted name meanwhile, Jiense (Teuquob) had smiled and raising her head and meeting the old man’s keen eyes now, nodded to him in greeting timidly, then respectfully pronounced her name, Jiense. She had gone along with that name, as she felt in this strange continent it would not bestir suspicion that her true name would.

He reciprocated in kind, by announcing his name to her in a congenial, clear mode. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance Jiense with no last name. As we are extant (living, existent) in this wilderness, I shall dispense with my proper last name Therran and in kind, you may refer to me as simply, Stark.” He had pointed to his chest and enunciated the name again: “Stark.”

Understanding, she had uttered his name with due reverence and bowed again in proper greeting.

He in turn nodded then smiled, acknowledging her polite attempt.

“She is clearly one of fine breeding, which makes it more a conundrum.”

“She will be allowed to stay with us for a while, won’t she Uncle, if not indefinitely?” Svein in his impatience could not stay his tongue.

“You are getting on ahead of yourself as usual,” Stark frowned. “We shall see, meanwhile it would be prudent of us to proceed with caution while taking the necessary progression,” then as if still pondering on the unusual circumstance, he added quietly to himself, “yes best to proceed one step at a time...A seemingly delicate, solitary being of high caliber surviving in the wilderness, hmm!”

 “Deducing from your omitted facts, I assume that you’d not encountered any other being, a guardian, a guide, serving companions or such, dead or alive, within that vicinity!” He paused again to thoughtfully stroke his beard. “Nevertheless, it’s quite rude of us to speak of her, however improbable the ready communication, as though she is not here.” Snapping out of it, he gave a polite nod and simply smiled at her then turned to address Svein. “For the time being at least, please take her to your prior room and allow her to wash up and attain some rest.” 

Noting the emphasis on the word “prior,” Svein smiled and readily acquiesced; for it was only proper that from hence he would be sharing his uncle’s room.      

Turning to squarely face Jiense, Svein signaled for her to follow him; the two then took their leave of the uncle and with Jiense in tow, quickly climbed the steps, disappearing inside the cabin. Opening the far door to the right, Svein ushered the young lady in to a small room that contained sparse, nevertheless elegantly crafted fine-wood furnishings, strategically placed few art objects of rare, intrinsic beauty and ornate, clearly unused bedpan with a lid jutting underneath the only night table.

Her glance (perusing) trailing onto the bed with exquisitely embroidered, immaculately clean silk comforter, had inadvertently lingered. This is a quaint, eccentric luxury to find in a rustic cabin in the woods. She mused. They were not what they seemed.

A polite caught (a clearing of a throat) just then from her companion drew her attention to Svein.

The young man smiling bashfully with a hand gesture indicated to her instead the porcelain wash basin and jar filled with water that was on an antique chest, hanging nearby was the pristine white towel.

Without the use of language, he as much told her to make herself comfortable, but first she may wish to refresh herself by washing her hands and face. This room will be hers from here on; to rest a while and if anything was not to her liking, she was at liberty to amend or discard it.

Svein subsequently going over to the far side, he hastily fetched the small exquisitely carved mahogany and leather hand baggage that had contained his personal spare belongings and private garments. Opening it, he picked up the few others that were neatly folded in a drawer of a dresser to add to it (bureau), collected few hanging by the makeshift cupboard and, after politely nodding his head, quickly withdrew from the room, allowing her the privacy to adjust to her new surroundings.

Svein returned shortly after however, with a tray of tidbits, in case she required nourishment. Supper, owing to the work ahead, could be long time in coming.

Jiense (Teuquob) smiled at Svein fondly- inwardly she was frustrated by her inability to communicate the extent of her gratitude and yet same time, remained absolutely touched by the gentle concern he showed for her welfare.

                                                                                             ~

Svein had no trouble settling in his uncle’s room; once everything was neatly placed, he went outside and begun helping his uncle, who’d already, had a change of clothing, to safely preserve and store the abundant game (the meat) in the smoke house for their future use. They in silence worked quickly and methodically, first by skinning, then gutting and collecting in a special clay pot the entire contents of the innards of each game.

After a brief “Ceremony of Fire,” where invocations/certain prayers were said and the contents turned to ashes were buried deep in the ground, they then carefully washed the reminder carcasses, salted each and hung them over a smoldering fire, smoke, in the shed to dry. Ceremony of Fire was an integral part of the preparation, for their deep rooted ideology (creed, dogma) held the tenet (principle) that an animal’s existence came from the viscera (guts) and in this way, the hunted animal that had given his life for their survival, would be reborn again soon after. Thereof the life-force in the mountain would not be interrupted and the souls of the animals would always be returned to its steward, Rognar, the Mountain God. Rognar appeased, he would hence not hinder the future hunts or visit the hunter with some calamity.

At the conclusion of the requisite work, both Svein and Stark returned to the cabin, fetched fresh set of clothing, and walking alongside again in silence, for Stark did not encourage (even detested) idle chatter, quickly trailed a well-traveled goat’s path to wash up at the cascading icy stream. This mode of cleansing/hygiene had always been quite adequate for the two, but with the furtherance of each step, both  had privately on the side now pondered on the concerns and certain  impending future requirements or requisite adjustments her mere presence would entail- regrettably impinging on many of their otherwise well regimented routines.

Svein was not least bit perturbed by this; he welcomed the portended changes. Same could not be said about Stark however, even though he had thus far kept his views to himself, in truth he had been disquieted by this untoward added burden of a guest that could further complicate matters that were already precarious enough. By rights, his own life should have been long ago forfeited, having already joined with his honorable ancestors in the nether region. The sole purpose, chief reason for the opprobrious prolongation of his existence had been to honor an oath and to fulfill a pledge: to  shield and to prepare Svein for that impending future event, by undertaking the daunting task of overseeing (supervising) Svein’s welfare and education in both fields- literary, political and military. Her presence could be a serious impingement to this objective or (perhaps) a boon to that of which was yet to be determined. Regardless, seeing the definite hand of fate in this, he would albeit reluctantly, accepted this added, surplus encumbrance or, a challenge.

That afternoon, as Svein was left to overseeing to some other pressing matters, Stark, first topped the iron kettle with added fresh water, and placed it on the burner alongside the pot containing meat and vegetables, for it to boil. They would have the ceremonial tea after the gratification of sustenance.

Deeming the time appropriate, Stark fetched the small medicine box, and going over, he gently tapped on her door before entering.

(END OF SECTION 2)

 

                                                                                          ~

 

THE RESCUE - SECTION 1

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE RESCUE - SECTION 1

SVEIN

All morning Teuquob’s weary feet had treaded relentlessly, ascending the scabrous, scraggy ground; despite her fortitude however, the treacherous topography coupled with the prevalent dangers from both weather and beasts had inevitably taken its toll on her.

As the midday sun baked its rays deep into the backs of the myriad creatures, Teuquob’s body now succumbed to fevers born out of exhaustion and with everything beginning to close in on her, in that half-crazed state, she was spirited into still deeper, more ominous parts of the mountain.

There her mettle was further tested, with her trudging steps oftentimes halting in fright (her already reluctant, uncooperative limbs suddenly gone rigid and inflexible) perceiving movements in the undergrowth where there’d be no wind to stir them.

Similarly, other times unexpectedly finding herself immersed in total darkness where day would all at once turn into night- sandwiched as she would be by the dense canopy of foliage from above and thick vegetation below, that she would not dare advance at all. But advance she did, chiefly out of sheer will and in part, her innate stubbornness- no sooner the allusive access was glimpsed, or the otherwise perceived danger had passed.

                                                                                   ~

Presently she made her slow, laborious advance through the thicket, mastering the culminating highs and the lows, with the aid of a tall, substantial staff, one that she’d procured earlier from a fallen tree- after the dead leaves and small offshoots had been carefully cut away, transforming the sturdy part of the branch into a handy walking aid or if need be, an effective/defensive weapon.

Now after a seemingly endless day’s trek, again confronted with the scant daylight fast receding, a resurgent dread once more seared her heart.

Would her luck hold through yet another perilous night?

On the verge of collapse, Teuquob despondently halted her weary steps and survival being paramount, again looked about her: First and foremost, she must have a safe refuge, in a somewhat plausible crevice- before the impending darkness.

Having spotted such, she’d veered to take a step forward, when suddenly an all-out mayhem erupted about her, with all the birds prior perched in the trees happily chirping, suddenly taking frenzied, chaotic flight; likewise, the panic-stricken monkeys and variety of mammals, shrieking and screeching, scurried into any nick/ crevice or clawed their way to safety of ever farther, ever higher elevation.

 Even the insects took cover while the ground dwellers, creepy crawlers speedily buried their bodies deep in the earth, disappearing completely out of sight.

The vicinity that was prior teeming with frantic life, as if at a tense standstill, holding its breath and in dreaded anticipation, next, abruptly, all at once, went deathly still. Barely a time for contemplation or for an apt response, her heart had nevertheless jumped to her mouth, sighting as she did, a great big ferocious jet-Black Panther that’d subsequently leaped out of the thick foliage into midair and landed on a moss-covered rock at the small clearing that was at negligible distance up ahead.

Indefinable fear gripping her very being, rendered as she was in an incapacitated state and very much at his mercy- the panther nevertheless, in an unusual move had forgone the anticipated act and for a stretch pivoted/burned, his fervently menacing, mesmerizing pupils deep, dug in deep, into her flesh. Afterwards, eyes squinted, he curiously had moved his head askew, opened wide his enormous chasm of a maw to show his lethal fangs in an almost decipherable yawn or smile, almost lulling the would be victim, to a false sense of ease; consequently, when least expected, as if to deliberately toy with his intended pray, he then let out a most fiercest, soul-snatching roar, that sent icy-chills down Teuquob’s very soul. The ear-splitting boom having entirely paralyzed (curdled) the very blood coursing through her veins, at her wits end, she could do little else but to tragically gape at the protruding enormously sharp predatory fangs, that were clearly adept at tearing with ease any flesh, poised to devour her.

 I am finished!  With terrified intake of breath, Teuquob had gasped, as her whole life flashed before her mind’s eye.  For nothing, nothing short of a miracle could save me now!

 Mercifully however, she was spared from the impending gruesome fate: suffering an unspeakable torment of being consciously, violently torn asunder and eaten alive. For when the beast took an aggressive swipe in the air with his powerful paw, a sure warning before the lightening anticipated pounce- her courage then having entirely failed her, the tightness in her chest cavity suddenly becoming unbearably acute, her head swooning and her whole body going limp, the very next instant with everything going black, she’d then simply collapsed on the ground.

A quirk of fate, as she lay there unconscious on the cold, damp solid surface, she’d also remained oblivious to what had truly transpired next.

Fortunately for her, shortly after the beast had leaped into the air (with determination of pouncing on his pray), quite unexpectedly he was cut down, pierced by the throat and by the chest, by the two consecutive arrows that had whistled through the air finding their mark.  As a result, the feral beast landed in front, instead of on top of her.

That same instant, from the thick foliage had emerged a mighty hunter.  He had a youthful face and a good strong physique.  Towering well over six feet in height, with a glorious shoulder length golden hair that glistened even in scant sunlight, keen blue-grey eyes, with a loaded quiver fastened over his shoulder, outstretched bow with an arrow notched and at the ready, he resembled more a legendary being, an immortal, than an ordinary hunter. 

A hero of a man no less, for quite some time now he’d been in hot pursuit, stalking the cunningly evasive, fiendish creature that had left in its wake a myriad, willfully tormented, bloody devastation.

Deviating from the norm, this panther had on mass ravaged the inhabitants of the mountain, wantonly killing and maiming as if simply for sport, oftentimes leaving the meat of his objectives torn but uneaten. The Devil incarnate that had evaded capture and given the hunter quite a chase, at present, despite his grave injuries still going strong, temporarily forwent the ready prey before him and now squarely faced his nemesis.

Nevertheless, in an unpredictable move he could still disappear in a flash as he’d done prior; or he could launch forward.

 In ready anticipation, the hunter in a side glance (from the corner of his eye) briefly surveyed and assessed the immediate (nigh) perimeter. The ground elevated steeply to his proximate right which provided the beast ample means of escape; meanwhile to the left, well concealed by the thick foliage and tall shrubbery, the hunter recollected that at some point there would be a sheer drop that might serve him (the hunter) well.

He grimaced, his pupils meeting and pinning with mesmerizing intensity that of the angry beast’s; meanwhile still poised to shoot, surreptitiously he edged his sure footing towards the left, his agile steps halting only at the (periphery) fringe of the dangerous precipice. His keen ears trailed the descent of the few purposefully dislodged rocks (pebbles) that gave an accurate assessment of the depth of the abysmal drop.

Just then the panther had let out an earsplitting growl and again, threateningly clawed the air as it leapt; but once more his vicious intent was interrupted in midair, this time by the hunter’s subsequent, third decisive potent shot.  The arrow in lightning speed whistled through the air and met its mark right through the lung grazing the heart of the beast. This only, because of that precise instant while in mid-flight the panther in a remarkable feat had wreathed (contorted) his torso and so escaped the inevitable. The Demon manifest with an uncommonly wrathful ferocity anew nimbly sprung back to his feet and with an unyielding zeal launched his subsequent, vehement assault.

Long at last however, he had met his match, for the hunter having as well anticipated this, at the crucial moment with an incredible agility shifted his stance, a simultaneous strike of his forearm and a strong grip- a skillful maneuver that transposed the enormous weight of the panther’s body off its objective- succeeded thence, in redirecting the momentum of the oncoming force and (instead) in one continuous motion catapulting the beast right over the hunter’s head and over the sheer drop (cliff)  .

The hunter possessing nerves of steel in the aftermath simply shook his head, terribly disappointed that it had ended so easily and predictably; with the challenge in the end not meeting his higher expectations. Turning and aslant (sideways), he leaned over slightly and looked over the edge; his eyes searching till he spotted the panther’s carcass now only a speck, plastered down at the bottom of the dark chasm.

The beast had been a fine specimen; pity he had to end this way!

As the hunter with a grim expression hung the bow over his right shoulder, his quiver lighter now with lesser arrows, he quietly reflected on the side how he’d been perforce assigned to this task of ridding the mountain of this terrible pest, the latent menace that for some unknown reasons had suddenly gone berserk and begun wreaking havoc on the overall population of the region. With many unexplained, bizarre circumstances dogging this hunt, it had placed his life in jeopardy more times than he cared to admit; still, the courageous, resourceful youth had relentlessly pursued the highly volatile beast for many a day. Then on the point of gaining a sought-after advantage, the trail had suddenly and completely gone cold, same time he had been lured to the edge of this vast forest by a rare pure white antelope, that had disappeared as mysteriously and without a trace. Coincidentally or not, he’d again upon an odd, freakish factor picked up the trail of the panther- discovering at first the almost invisible (slight) then more distinct imprints- like bloodstained residue at first scattered about at great distances on the ground as if in deliberate ploy to deceive, then came the audacious indicator tracks that led to the final discovery of a gruesome sight of heaped up and torn asunder carcasses.  Eventually, by degrees he was led to this spot. 

Had all this been a contrived, or a simple happenstance?  Suddenly recollecting the unconscious feminine form, he veered, and negating his trepidation- for even from afar with his acute eyesight, he’d noted her attire and footgear to be in remarkably preserved, rather in an immaculate condition for one cast in this wilderness, therefore telling of supernatural element- willed his limbs to make the swift advance towards her. Standing over her petite form now, he paused, somewhat hesitant at how best to handle her, his latent apprehension in part borne out of recollected facts from various, ancient but timeless resources.  These books while elaborating on certain time-honored primordial superstitions, antediluvian beliefs and ancestral practices of pre-settlers in Wenjenkun, nevertheless had conveyed, seriously imparted dire warnings about the myriad mountain spirits and fairy ghosts and goblins that oftentimes assumed young maidens’ forms to entrap or entice unsuspecting men, for the purposes of in the aftermath possessing the victim’s soul and devouring its flesh.  The unlikelihood of the circumstance that he should come across an unarmed traveler, let alone an unescorted maiden in these dangerous woods, for a spell hence, had made him unduly anticipatory and given credence to these earlier beliefs.

Fortunately, however, despite his young and impressionable age, he was by far too practical in nature and possessed an acute analytical mind, to (ascribe) give serious accredit to such superstitious notions and myths for too long.  His sensibilities swiftly returned to him, he now laughed at his own silliness and shook his head as if to dissipate or purge the remainder illogical notions and unfounded nonsense away.  Then after a fleeting reticence, owing to his bashful nature- he knelt beside her and gently turned her over. Whatever else he might have expected, the anticipated outcome far surpassed it- when his eyes beheld the undeniably the most exquisite, most enchanting and fairest maiden in existence!   

As he let his stunned gaze peruse her delicate, porcelain like facial features at this proximity, he found himself strangely drawn to her, and the threads of affection tugged at his heart.  Fortuitously, perhaps by Heaven’s favor, the panther had not gained the opportunity to mar such perfection!  Smiling, he heaved a grateful sigh; then modestly bypassing the neck area; he pressed his thumb on her delicate wrist instead and sought the pulse. He was pleased to note that it was present, however faint; next, he tried to revive her but without much success.  One thing was for certain- because of her prior vulnerability, albeit it was to a powerful entity, he could still, not in good conscience, abandon her to her fate- what with the approaching nightfall and to the prevalent dangers.  No, he must not forsake her to such unhappy fate; whatever the complications, outcome or danger her presence entailed...his uncle’s rule of non-interference had to be transcended in this case. Though, his uncle would be furious!

He pondered a moment or two longer on his next course of action; his mind inevitably turning to the lengthy coverage of ground and the task he needed to effectuate before even contemplating reaching home. Despite the use of a secret shortcut, the next leg of the journey still would be extensive; she would certainly slow his progress. Furthermore, with her now in his charge, he would have to modify his ways and along the way find adequate shelters for her to in safety pass the nights.

At least he could easily address this aspect. He smiled, recollecting the number of abandoned caves that in the past he’d incidentally discovered- that now lay all along the way. Previously, he’d ignored or simply opted to not using these, for when on a hunt he much preferred sleeping under the blanket of stars. Nevertheless, out of regard for her welfare, he now considered alternate means and accommodations; but he’d better hurry, if he wished to reach the nearest one in time!

Obliged by the present circumstance, as she remained unconscious and he needed a hand free - therefore disregarding propriety- he gently lifted the girl in his arms and hauled her over his left shoulder, then with bold speedy strides he began his steady ascent, following the barely visible paths that snaked through the mountain.  Arriving at the designated cave in scant time, he first made sure that it was still void of any unwanted pests. Then finding a quiet spot, he gently placed her still limp body on the prepared soft surface and quickly busied himself with lighting fire and foraging for food.

(END OF SECTION 1)