LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 13

Zaur Stugr remained pensively silent for a time; moreover, there was a marked skepticism in his narrowed, hard eyes that showed he was hitherto unconvinced.

01 A ZAUR STUGR JP (5)

Deizvor had been deemed until then, a mastermind linguist of the known world’s vernacular, and had furthermore, excelled in deciphering the most remote and varied indigenous groups’ sign-languages. This strange dialect which confounded (mystified) him, had to have been a most recent, ingeniously devised means of communication; if so, this warranted a prompt, in-depth (thorough) investigation into this matter. Kozurs’ linguistic team, soon put to the task, must decipher (decode) and then pass it on to their most trusted agents in Korion (and other foreign lands), before the predictable consequences could be amplified.

Zaur nevertheless curtailing his impatience sternly motioned for Deizvor to carry on with his report.

"Despite my exasperation I was reluctant to leave and stood my ground so as to note their every action.  At one point they received what looked to be a set of written instructions from him, one can only presume that it was, directive for their next assignment.  Unfortunately, after reading the contents and nodding their acceptance, they tore it in half and consumed it.  Then, at the apparent conclusion of their business, the contact thrust a money pouch (for future expenditures) into Hugen’s hand and summarily took his leave.  I debated, of course, whether to pursue this newcomer or to persist with the surveillance on those two birds (spies) who had their heads together and looked to be hatching more plots.  Also, I wanted to see where they would finally end up and if need be, arrange to have a backup to continue on with the shadowing, while I promptly returned to relay my report. "

"And this was done?"

"Yes, sir," Deizvor hastily imparted their present whereabouts.  "Even though their contact could not be traced, we had these two fully covered, sir.  They ‘ll be dogged wherever they go from now on."

Zaur looked down to hide the anger in his eyes.  “Fool!  They’d already found you out… They were playing you.”

“What a waste. You should have gone for reinforcements the moment they made contact and apprehended all three.”  But then, Zaur did not encourage that kind of initiative.  Deizvor, after all, had done exactly as he’d supposed to.

"When they switched back to Korionese what they said took me by complete surprise." Catching Deizvor ' excitement, Zaur Stugr looked up.

02- DEISVOR

Deizvor was shaking his head and had begun to whisper in a barely audible voice, "Now I know for certain the identity of the assassin.  The Kontu emissaries were grievously wronged.  It was all a diabolical deception concocted by no less than KeTizan, Chief Minister of our formerly trustworthy ally, Xexos."

"Xexos is it then?"  Zaur exclaimed in an incredulous voice, frowning; he was fast losing his patience. “It’s a pity your presence was detected.”  Relations between the subjugated Korion and Wenjenkun's catspaw, Xexos, had always been strained.  Zaur had already deduced that Korion was behind the plot and the lengths to which their spies went to feed the patently false information about Xexos only strengthened his suspicion.

"Yes, sir, Xexos …  They were behind it all.  Who would have thought it?  Nevertheless, we now have sure confirmation of that fact."  Deizvor checking his rising doubt, nevertheless, went on to repeat, word for word, the ingeniously implanted evidence the spies had fed him.  "These Korion spies, I later learned through discreet investigation of the sources they alluded to in their conversation, were part of an independent body of observers and couriers.  Wizened to the plot against Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek, they had been sent on to obtain a firsthand report of the developments in our country."

“At best it is more likely that they were sent here to get an independent view of the actions taken by Korion's emissaries and relay it back to their King without delay.  In the worst-case scenario, they probably had orders to assassinate those same emissaries should things go awry.” Zaur Stugr inwardly scoffed.  “Xexos, indeed…  As if we would be so gullible; so easily be duped into fighting their border wars for them.  Would they never learn?”  Zaur continued to listen with remarkable restraint to Deizvor s' specifics about the supposed conspiracy, mildly amused at times, by the tale they’d spun.  Once Deizvor had finished Zaur promptly dismissed him without comment and had just finished preparing for a return to his office when the arrival of a special courier was announced.

This night had been particularly long, too long.  Zaur’s temples throbbed, and he rubbed them absentmindedly to relieve the pressure building up then looked up to acquiesce sternly, "All right, bring him in."

The courier was briskly ushered in.  He advanced smartly all the way in, to abrupt halt before the desk.  He bowed respectfully then, reaching into his inner pocket, withdrew an envelope which he presented to Zaur.

Zaur Stugr briefly examined the familiar seal for tampering and smiled.  It was from one of his best recruits.  "How is he?" he asked the courier, studying the man's reaction from the top of his downcast eyes.

"He anticipated your question, sir, and bade me to tell you that he is faring handsomely, having made great strides.  He hopes to furnish you with more proof in the coming days that is if his proposal goes through smoothly, without undue hindrance from the one he said you would know."

Zaur Stugr appeared pleased with this cryptic message and, with a closed smile, relayed an equally esoteric (arcane) reply of his own before he dismissed the courier.  When he was sure he was alone he broke open the seal, took out the letter from its covering (envelope) and unfolding it, avidly devoured its contents.

“Confound it!”  The smile of a moment ago quickly turned into a frown.  His hunches, it seemed, had been right on.  Zaur had hoped that, for the first time, he might have been proven wrong, but the letter had only confirmed his suspicions.  With a furrowed brow, Zaur Stugr took his angry stare away from the page.

This is quite serious, indeed.  He shook his head.  Why, in all this time, with all the spies they had planted in that region, why hadn’t one of them detected anything till now?  How could such a competent group simply miss out on an event of this magnitude?  This was not something that happened overnight.  An army was being raised, for Heaven's sake!  How could such a thing remain undetected, furthermore, so completely hidden for that length of time?

Zaur Stugr had absolute confidence in his men; he knew they could not be bought, threatened, or coaxed into shirking their duty.  This meant that at some prior point this group’s cover had been blown and, besides being kept in the dark, they too had methodically been fed misinformation.  Infuriated by this temporary setback, Zaur wearily leaned his back into the plush chair and closed his eyes in deep contemplation; after a spell, his attention back on the letter, he picked it up and perused (more meticulously) every minutest detail, seeking to uncover well disguised, subtle nuances. Zaur’s elation was short lived, and his expression grew even more solemn as he reflected on the specific, supposed happenstances of the last six months. The letter had affirmed his suspicions of Korion’s ultimate hidden agenda (objective) with its long-term implications.  In the months to come, Wenjenkun would become inexorably drawn into deepening conflict with Kontu with ever widening consequences.  Korion would do its best to see to that.

“All right.” in the end he nodded self-consciously as he committed the letter to the embers of an incense burner kept close by for just such a purpose.  “I can't just deal with this matter on my own, not when the nation's security is in jeopardy. I must find a subtle, an ingenious way to broach the subject and inform Lamont Gudaren of this dangerous development.”

Leaning back, he again closed his eyes and pondered on the concern: whether Wenjenkun would withstand a lengthy and costly war of attrition with an equally determined and decidedly warlike state such as Kontu. Moreover, Kontu had access to ample rich resources in the well fortified northern islands and was now bent on extending its horizons onto the main body of the continent.

03-DENG HEDENKO (27)

Zaur was all too familiar with the unsurpassed tactics of Hedenko's past conquests: his brilliantly executed strategies, his diplomatic manoeuvrings, and his ingenious offensive campaigns.  Zaur had kept himself apprised of Kontu's recent status of an emerging imperial nation, and the fact that its economic power and military prowess, in a short while would reach its zenith. Their political stability was another consideration in comparison to Wenjenkun. Emperor Deng Hedenko was a competent, strong, and quite ruthless leader, much like Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek.  Once a rapacious ruler sets his sights on a verdant objective, he would be virtually unstoppable.  It was a foregone conclusion that any targeted nation would be swallowed into the raging forge of their conquered domains or wiped entirely from the very face of History.

Zaur could not, of course, underestimate Wenjenkun's resilience and equally predatory Zakhertan Yozdek’s resourcefulness; but the Nation (State) and the Imperial family’s interests at present had detrimental rifts. To boot, there were strong factions entrenched in the core government, who would seize this golden opportunity to make a short-sighted deal with the new devil to attain (gain) more power. 

What concerned Zaur most, however, was the superiority of Kontu's armaments, the recent technological advances they had made in metallurgy and weaponry.

Rising to his feet, with his hands clasped behind him, Zaur Stugr paced the room then, wheeling about suddenly and with bold strides marched right out the door. 

Perched on the roof Nevetsecnuac, had eyed Zaur's obvious inner turmoil, with perplexity.  Noting the fact that the first light of the new day would be upon them soon, he abandoned the idea of following Zaur from his offices and instead headed directly back to his own sleeping quarters.

                                                                        ~

 

Zaur Stugr’s speculations about Hugen and Uyuk meanwhile had been right on the mark (dead right).  Having discerned earlier on, the presence of the eavesdropper, the two spies had safeguarded their actions and deliberately imparted misinformation to throw the snoop Deizvor entirely off course.  Moreover, both being masters of disguise and possessing superb stamina and martial prowess, they had also successfully shaken off their latent ardent pursuers and were now headed, unencumbered, once more in the direction of Korion.

Despite an intense countrified alert for the two spies, Hugen and Uyuk had eluded capture simply by journeying in the broad daylight and passing through endless checkpoints perfectly disguised as a merchant couple (as man and wife).  But the disguise carried its own drawbacks as, more times than Uyuk cared to remember, he had been hit upon (sexually manhandled) by the licentious guards. It took great restraint on his part not to pulverize these offending sentries; they were instead mollified, by dispensing bribes along with the hint of future compliance. 

Then came a period when, in the interest of making good time, they had opted for the shortcut routes of Hugen’s choosing and traversed through isolated, especially rough and perilous terrain; where which they had more than once, encountered, not only wild, carnivores’ beasts but also marauding bandits who had them pegged for an easy prey.  After locking horns with these two undercover agents the bandits, however, were the ones who were disarmed, disgraced, and then robbed of what little valuables they carried.  The bested and badly wounded brigands scurried off in fear of their lives like the rats they were, tail tugged between their hind-legs, morbidly ashamed to ever recount of the encounter.

04- HUGEN (45)jp

Being adept at surviving under the harshest conditions, Hugen deemed (considered) all these arduous, hair-raising experiences as trifling adventures.  For him the journey was a breeze, it was going off without a hitch and through it all he hummed a tune of some song.

Uyuk, on the other hand, held a much different opinion. His strong constitution weathered the hardships with ease all right, but these were seen by him as an unnecessary imposition.  He was a pragmatist and valued his comfort whenever he could get it; hence, he increasingly became resentful of Hugen’s obstinate eccentricities.   

 

(END OF SECTION 13)                                                     

 

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 6

Suddenly, Dwengzur struck an idea, and his menacing, calculating eyes yet again turned to burrow decisively into Fradel Rurik Korvald’s.

Fear- yes, first he will inject true fear into this upstart scholar. For fear, he believed, was the most potent ingredient to which all humans unequivocally responded. This, he had confirmed repeatedly, in all his past, aberrant dealings with the humans. Victory was so within his grasp now! He exhaled deeply, confident of his future triumph.

01- DWENGZU

"Enough! I have been civil with you long enough." He suddenly burst, slamming his palm down onto the table. "No more prevarication; I have no more time to waste with the likes of you. I would not care if you were the portended future Emperor of a New Dynasty, one that would reinstate this flea-bitten nation Wenjenkun to magnificence; you have tried my patience to the brink!" 

Blinded by his indignant fury, he dismissed Fradel Rurik Korvald’s slight, involuntary wince. "You humans," Dwengzur, his face beet red with rage, spat out the words as if they were a mouthful of venom, "you're all alike: irrational, crude and intolerable. This is what I think of all of you!" Pointing at the nearest dignitary he invoked a short incantation in an incomprehensible murmur. The immobile man was just then released from his trance and, before he could utter a single word, even a cry of astonishment, he began diminishing in size until he was no more than the size of an ant.

In horror, Nevetsecnuac watched Dwengzur pick up the wriggling, tiny figure by a single leg between his thumb and index finger.

Nevetsecnuac relented, for having pushed Dwengzur this far. "Why take this out on him?" His angry shout, however, was ignored by Dwengzur, as he with a cruel smile on his lips, crushed the unfortunate dignitary to a pulp.

"There, one less vermin. He is no more." he said this with disdain, as he wiped his fingers clean, on the tablecloth.

The Undersecretary to Egil Viggoaries shared a similar fate soon afterwards. Next, the Teylon ambassador was turned into a ripe date which disappeared into Dwengzur's mouth in a flourish.

His anger still not satiated (abated), the Immortal turned his attention to the acrobats, invoking another incantation which instantly turned them into piles of steaming cow excrement. He scoffed, "An apt criticism of their dreadful performance, I say."

Stunned and outraged Nevetsecnuac was, he was now even more determined to deny Dwengzur the least satisfaction, "Are you through with your petty, childish tantrums?"

"Petty…  Childish did you say?"  With a deafening roar Dwengzur turned towards Fradel Rurik Korvald to chastise him proper, only to, quite unexpectedly, throw his head back and burst into a raucous roar of laughter which reverberated through the entire hall.

"You have such audacity (sheer guts), human, I'll give you that much credit. Of course, it will do you no good."  Rising, he faced Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) squarely and began to invoke an even more terrible spell.

02- IMMORTAL DWENGZU CASTING A SPELL 2

"Is this all you can do; these cheap parlor tricks?" Fradel (Nevetsecnuac's) deliberate provocation cut Dwengzur's concentration, breaking the spell.

"You need a good lesson in manners, human! I am through pussyfooting around with you!" Dwengzur bellowed, gnashing his teeth and began to recite yet another, different spell. A flick of his finger forced Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) to his knees.

Fradel tried to rise, but his knees felt as if they were bolted to the floor. His hands defied his will, weighed down as if by lead weights, they fell to the floor forcing him into a kowtow position. Again, and again his head was pressed down, his forehead touching the floor-rug in a gesture of abject humility.  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) gritted his teeth. Frozen by the spell, his mouth and tongue refused to form the angry words of rebuke (scolding, reproof) he wanted to hurl at Dwengzur.

At first this display of humiliation delighted and amused Dwengzur but he soon grew tired of it.  He snapped his fingers once more and this time Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) was, gripped by a violent force which whisked him completely off the ground and hurled him across the hall to, have his back be, sadistically slammed against the far wall. It was only his martial training and the fact that, the wall was, cushioned by a thick tapestry that spared Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) from having his ribs crushed (and perhaps his spinal cord entirely (crushed) shattered /flattened) by the impact.

As it was, he still suffered a slight concussion and, few badly bruised ribs and limbs. Pinned and unnaturally propped up against the far wall seven feet above the floor, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) struggled once more with all his might but failed to get free; nevertheless unyielding, he considered his options and strained his eyes to at least, see clearly.

Obviously enjoying Fradel Rurik Korvald’s fruitless struggle, Dwengzur flicked his fingers once more. Out of nowhere, two hundred fiery daggers suddenly manifested themselves, suspended in mid-air between them.

"Do your worst!" Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) shouted defiantly as soon as his tongue had been released. "Let’s see what a great marksman you are!"

With a smile on his lips, Dwengzur not deigning (condescending) to answer, simply motioned for the attack. In an instant the fiery blades shot across the room at blinding speed only to halt, a hairsbreadth away from the thin layer of skin protecting Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) vital organs. Though they did not touch Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) at all the scorching heat of the fiery blades still seared his flesh and blinded his eyes. At a single breath from Dwengzur, the burning blades turned frosty blue, and the heat was replaced by numbing cold.

That same instant Nevetsecnuac's sight being restored to him, Nevetsecnuac saw that behind the blades, (just inches away from Nevetsecnuac’s face,) Dwengzur having had floated over, was presently, hovering in mid-air and leering at him with a cruel smile on his lips.

"Have you had enough, or would you like some more demonstration of my powers?" Dwengzur sardonically asked.

"Oh, but I'm having so much fun; why would I ever wish for this to end?" Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) used sarcasm to hide his mounting resentment.

“My aim is to please.” Dwengzur responded mockingly, disappointed, and yet amazed at Fradel’s resilience and his lack of fear, this being quite evident in the eyes that so defiantly met his own. Dwengzur snapped his two fingers and instantly all the knives vanished into thin air; subsequently, Dwengzur’s form begun to grow and grow. He then transformed into the most hideous, hellishly abhorrent creature that Nevetsecnuac had ever seen.

03- DWENGZU TAKING ON A HORRIBLE FORM

But then the form changed and got even worse. At the top of the creature’s forehead floated four blazing red, reptilian pupils and behind them, Nevetsecnuac observed, two ugly, razor-sharp spiraling horns fastened to Dwengzur’s oblong skull. His gaping red mouth, meanwhile, dripping with green, putrid saliva as if in anticipation of a feast, hovered just inches from Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) face. Suddenly, with the back of his paw the vile creature swiped at Nevetsecnuac's head, nearly rendering him senseless.

The creatures’ long claws next dug in and tore away Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) garments to expose naked flesh; at which point with a groan of pleasure the beast that Dwengzur had become, sunk his elongated fangs deep into the abdomen to tear out a raw chunk of flesh.  As the ogre Dwengzur chewed at this delectable piece, his eyes focused on another part, anticipating the flavor in his rank maw. Swallowing the last bit, Dwengzur was about to indulge in more when Nevetsecnuac, rising above the excruciating pain, invited the beast to sample a portion from the higher segment of his torso instead, and to feast on an unequivocally more delicious, living, pulsating heart.

Dwengzur's quadruple eyes blinked simultaneously; he looked down at Fradel and then up at the ceiling, as he considered this. Finally, he shook his head and groaned, as he (grasped) comprehended the ominous warning which had emanated abruptly, from deep within.

“No!” The siren had said, “You need this prey alive for the longest time possible, as his augmented anguish is the very nourishment your essence craves, far more than the scrumptious vital organs and tender human flesh.”

The beast reluctantly acquiesced, that is what is missing here; yes, the prey must not expire too soon; meanwhile, the portions tastes even better when it is seasoned with the juices of fear!

Its quadruple eyes of the beast now lowered, it targeted Fradel’s left thigh; sinking its fangs in deep, it tore away substantial chunk comprising both muscle and bone, then commenced to leisurely crunching it.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac)had intrepidly gritted his teeth and bore this excruciating pain also, without a single groan or a whimper escaping his lips. Suddenly, he was reminded of the hallucinatory experience in the forest and, with an iron will, denied the existence of this current reality (actuality).

The beast in the meantime having finished his mouthful had licked his chops and now bit into Fradel’s right thigh. Yet, oddly enough, his fangs could not, would not penetrate the skin of his prey, let alone tear away any tender flesh. Refusing to give way, Dwengzur attacked repeatedly, only to be stymied time and, again. Then he noticed even the parts he had mauled prior, now gradually growing back and, in due process being returned to normal.  Again, and again his fangs targeted different segments of Fradel’s body, only to be denied least satisfaction at every turn. It was no use. Howling angrily, creature Dwengzur stepped back and, with his great, beastly head, nodded.

Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) resolve had broken the spell.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 6)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 23

Briac curtailed the curses that were on his (breath) lips, lest he be exposed to the fool which he had been, and ran after her in hot pursuit. She was quite agile and in the darkness with sure footing she, all the same, managed to spread some distance between her and her ardent pursuer Briac.  Running down the hall in another direction, she pushed open the back door, quickly descended the set of stairs and after going through the dark tunnel, swiftly disappeared into the dark stables.

Hot on her trail, incensed Briac raced after this would be assailant and entered the stables that held many stalls with horses in it. Incensed, he was determined to extricate from her some answers, such as the identity of the real culprit behind it all.  

"Come back here, you are thieving harlot!"  Briac barked, scanning the dark perimeter.

Suddenly, however, five sinister-looking thugs armed with cudgels and axes emerged from their hiding places instead of her.  Too late, Briac realized his grave mistake.

01- RUFFIAN (GANGSTER)

"Ah, our distinguished guest has finally arrived." One of the ruffians (possibly the chief gangster) grinned venomously as he pulled the woman aside then signaled the rest to attack.

 Briac ducked, swerved, and jumped over the furious blows as he bellowed curses, threats and insults.

Frastos had just relieved himself around the corner of the stables, outside, when the entire hubbub (ruckus) reached his ears.

"Uh-oh!  The captain will have my hide," Frastos cursed as he quickly pulled up his pants.

With the chill threat of fear coursing (surging, running) down his spine, he then rushed towards the noise brandishing his sword.  Fortunately, the situation was not as grave as he had feared.

Though at first unarmed, Briac’d quickly gained a sword from one of the vanquished (beaten, bested) bandits and so armed, he had managed to keep them at bay.  Frastos’s appearance on the stage had further changed the odds and considerably alleviated (lessened, assuaged) Briac’s still dangerous predicament; hence, emboldened Briac now shifted from the defensive to the offensive, edging closer to the competent adversaries, to deliver some very effective strikes.

"Go on, there are only two of them.  Squash these darn cockroaches!" the burly leader urged the thugs on.

Frastos, however, was an accomplished fighter in his own right, and was armed as well.  The gang of five competent fighters as they were, soon found themselves in dire straits, completely out-matched, even though Frastos had only used the flat of his sword, and soon were scrambling to get away.

"Why aren't you pursuing them?" Briac turned on Frastos to bellow fiercely.

"Let’s go after them!  They're getting away!"

"What's the point?" Frastos stood on his ground and, laughing crudely, shrugged his shoulders.  "They're only some local hoodlums."

"Local hoodlums," Briac was nonplused.

"You've registered as Borkos Yenzic." Frastos glanced at him from the corner of his eye.  "I doubt if they have even heard of Fradel Rurik Korvald."

"How can you be so sure?" Briac insisted.

"Look!"  Frastos lost his patience.  "You were flaunting your wealth.  They thought you were a man of substance, and they marked you for an easy prey.  They had no intention of killing you.  They only wanted to rob you or kidnap you for the ransom."

"Only they underestimated my might." Briac finished the thought.

 "But that bitch tried to kill me!" he suddenly recalled the woman and looked about for her.  It was all too evident that, despite all, he still lusted after her.

02- FRASTOS  DEFEATS THE BANDTS- JP 18

"What a fool you are, Briac."  Frastos shook his head disdainfully, his face crinkling in momentary disgust before he turned and walked away.

Briac was rooted to the spot, his face darkening with anger as he stared at Frastos' diminishing form as it was swallowed up by the night. “Where does he get off, talking to me that way?” he fumed.

“Pity she turned out to be but a petty thief, I could have really enjoyed myself tonight.  She certainly was well-endowed.” But then some common-sense set in and he shook his head, inwardly chastising himself and letting out a loud sigh, “You are a total, complete dunderhead (dunce, numskull)!  And he's right, no denying it, you know he is”

 

Begrudgingly he trailed Frastos to the side door of the inn.

"Please let this be our secret." he implored Frastos back in the room.

"I'll compensate you well.  You know my family has the means and, next time, I'll let you have your way with the best beauty.  I'll make it worthwhile; you'll see.  Not a word of this to the captain or that scum, Tizan; All right?"

Frastos turned his back in disgust and grunted, "Go to sleep.  We've wasted a good part of this night's rest already."

Taking this as an affirmation, Briac thanked Frastos.  "You won't be sorry, you'll see."

Then he, too, climbed under the warm covers on the other side of the huge bed.

His adrenaline was still high after the exhilaration of the fight and try, as he might, sleep sadly averted him as many concerns persisted in haunting his thoughts.

Inhaling deeply, the lingering, sweet perfume she had left on the pillow which now taunted him with wild imaginings, he grunted and forcefully shut his eyelids.  Instead of sleep, however, he grew more dismayed at having missed the ecstasy that she had promised him.  He snuggled up to the pillows and quilt desperately seeking some solace; the remainder of the night however, he still turned and tossed, being kept awake, listening to Frastos' variable, sporadic snores.

“Nope… No use, I can’t sleep.”  Frustrated, Briac finally kicked off his covers in disdain and got up to lie, spread eagle on his back, on the cold floor, staring blankly up to the ceiling beams.

“Sure, the benefits are most enjoyable but I never, for the life of me, expected that the message I sent, would cause me to be targeted in place of Fradel Rurik Korvald.  I really set myself up this time.”  Screwing up his face, he picked himself up; going over to his side, he flopped face-down, back on the bed.

 “Oh, how can he sleep so soundly when I am in such a state? Lucky brute: doesn’t anything phase you?  Devils take you; I don't really know how much longer I can endure this suspense.  At every turn in the road my heart rushed into my mouth.”

Frastos not wishing to engage Briac, meanwhile, had pretended to be in deep slumber (forty winks) and so, disappointingly, still did not stir.

“What’s the good of all that gold if I don't live long enough to flaunt it?” Briac inhaled (heaved), with a deep sigh.

Suddenly however, fiery rage gripped his chest.   “This is all uncles’ fault, for cutting me off financially and, forcing me to these desperate means; all, over that silly little incident? Improper, my tunic!  I'm sure he's committed far worse crimes, only no one has ever been able to pin any of it on him.  But I proved them wrong, didn't I?  Ha!  For this last year, thanks to my affiliations, I’ve sustained a more luxurious lifestyle and more power than they could ever imagine.  But what about now; how can I escape this …. Present dire misfortune?”

Briac's face became taut, and he once more nervously rolled over on his side, fingers tapping on his hip.  Imagining all sorts of horrible fates, he sat up and, cupping his chin, deliberated.

“I must exercise utmost care and persist in keeping vigilant.  Tonight, I was lucky.  Had they been His Excellency's men,” he gave an involuntary shudder.

 “I wouldn't have had a prayer of a chance.  Running away is pure suicide.  Zunrogo or his lapdog Tizan would hunt me down within minutes and hack off my head for desertion.

“If only I can get to Jukurok in safety and make my contacts.  I may not know their faces, but the ruins of Guzor temple shouldn't be too hard to find.  Once I give the secret password, I can establish my identity and inform them of the change.”

“Now, how on earth can I lose Frastos for, long enough to establish contact?  The captain's ordered him to keep an eye on me every darned (blasted) moment, day, or night.  Now, if I can win him over.  Yes, that might work.  He could cover up for me then or come with me when the opportunity avails itself.  He does have a stubborn streak, though, and he's such a straight arrow.  Converting him to my way of thinking won't be easy.  I'll have to bribe him with something irresistible; but what?”  Finally, overcome by pure exhaustion, Briac drifted into fitful slumber.

                                                                                        ~

When the first rays of daylight struck his eyes, he, with a start, woke up.  Last night's concerns were still fresh in his mind, Briac’s eyes at once searched for Frastos but he was nowhere to be seen.  The smile on his face turned into a scowl of hatred.  He jumped up and began dressing. “Rats!  He's gone to squeal on me.  I'll fix him.  I’ll...”

Just then Frastos, fuming with rage, stormed into the room with curses on his lips.

"I suppose you rushed right over to deliver your exaggerated report of my slight indiscretions last night.” Briac, hands on his waist, angrily confronted Frastos.

“Tell me, what benefit, what rewards did you reap, to justify this despicable act of treachery?"

Frastos was in no mood to deal with Briac’s barmy gibberish (nonsense). He simply shook his head and tried to get past him.

“You couldn't wait, could you?" Briac barked, still blocking Frastos' path.

"What the hell are you raving about?"  Frastos shoved him aside, frowning fiercely as he went over to sink into the chair by the fire.  Still fuming inwardly, he cursed, "That villain!  …That vile, despicable cur!"

"Don't deny it; you've been to see the captain, haven't you?" Briac demanded.

"Yeah," Frastos glared back.  "This is entirely your fault!"  Leaning forward, he shook an accusing finger at Briac.  "If it weren't for that ..." seeing the look of incomprehension in Briac's face, he threw his head back and laughed scornfully.  "Why do I waste my breath?"  He shook his head and slumped back into the chair.  Through gritted teeth he ejected, "No, he was looking for just such an opening.  He's had it in for me ever since that Cheron incident when I could no longer stomach his brutality and spoke up against him to the captain.  That savage, arrogant beast!  Where does he get off talking to me that way?  I don't care who he is, that still doesn't give him the right to show such effrontery.  I don't have to put up with those kinds of insults from the likes of him… That ogre! “Suddenly Frastos sprang to his feet and, clenching his fists, began to angrily pace the floor.

03- FRASTOS  IS ANGRY- JP 02

 "Oh, I'd like to wring his neck!"

"My fault,” Briac, a little slow on the uptake, was thrown aback until he figured out the last sentences.  “Cheron incident…  Who’s the Ogre?  Tizan?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes Tizan; who else?" Frastos stopped his pacing to glare sharply at Briac.

 "That despicable, arrogant cad,” Stamping his foot on the floor he swore, "I'll get him!  I'll make him pay dearly for this if it’s the last thing I do.  He doesn't scare me none."

Briac was delighted to see the fury, the contempt Frastos now held for their common foe, Tizan.  “This makes the job of convincing him that much easier.  Yes, things are finally looking up, but what's this about the Cheron incident?  How was it, I was kept in the dark about their, particularly Tizan’s, involvement in that whole, messy affair?  And the missing funds?  It was, reportedly, a considerable sum.  Still, why burden Frastos with all questions about that now?  I'll worm-it- out-of-him eventually once I have his confidence; far better to concentrate on the matters at hand.”  Briac quietly counseled himself. 

Going over, he placed a sympathetic hand on Frastos' shoulder.  "I feel the same way you do, brother, but hey, calm down.  Remember, haste makes waste."

Frastos shrugged off the sympathy with disdain, "Don't humor me.  I'm in no mood for your nonsensical advice."  Glowering threateningly, he went back to sink once more into the chair.

"Who's humoring you?"  Undeterred, Briac sat in the chair opposite Frastos.  Though he was six years older than Frastos, their relationship had been on an equal footing from the start.  "No, I'm dead serious," he reasserted.

"As a friend, I must deter you from doing anything rash; that is, not just yet.  I know how much that cur Tizan can get under your skin until your blood begins to boil with rage and contempt but don't lose your head.  You know how shrewd, cunning, and ruthless he can be.  Besides, he's an able fighter.  Individually, he'd waste either of us in a flash.  However, if we bid our time and pool our resources to make a concerted effort and reasonable plan, we may just win the day.  What do you say to that?"

Frastos’s head down, he looked lost in thought.

Briac grinned in satisfaction. “Good, at least you're considering it.  Now, will you tell me what happened?"

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” Frastos raised his head to study Briac for a moment.  “You'd like to know all the sordid details of this humiliation so you can later on, for your own sadistic gain, turn it on me.”  Grinding his teeth, he instead continued to mumble insults against Tizan.  But then his face contorted into a snarling grin as he admitted to himself that cooperation might be exactly what was needed to bring about Tizan's downfall or better still, his demise. As things had progressed thus far, nothing less (then his ignominious assassination) would assuage his anger.

 "You were right about him, brother," he finally spoke.

"Yes, you've been right all along only I've been too blind to see it."  His amiable tone contrasted sharply with his hostile expression.

"I'm sorry I've not been more supportive of you in the past.  This is a terrible thing he did to you.  The scholar Fradel is already in perfect disguise, there was no reasons for this subterfuge, no need for you to impersonate Fradel and by doing so, plunk your life in peril." He added in all sincerity to purposefully deflect Briac's persistent questions.  In his mind he pondered his next course of action.

"Yes.  After all these years of loyal service, it seems that my life amounted to so very little for the captain that he, without a qualm, sanctioned Tizan's vile plan.  There's no doubt the wicked scheme was Tizan's idea. “Briac swallowed hard and looked away.

“The vermin Tzan concocted this preposterous measure to humiliate us, to pay me back for..."  Briac suddenly stopped and askance (sideways) looked at Frastos, before he prodded him again, attempting to get to the root of the problem. "But, brother, why do you evade my questions?  Don't you trust me enough to tell me what they did to spin you into such a fitful state?  Why am I to be blamed?  I will take real offense (slight) if you don't stop being so cryptic."

"I mean no affront (insult, slur), it’s just", Frastos drew a breath, his anger in part subsided.

 "Well, all right, I'll tell you this much.  You'll find out soon enough yourself when you go to see the captain.  It’s best that you go in, somewhat prepared, armed with plausible explanation for your defense.

"I was summoned first thing this morning.  You had such a rough time of it, last night; I took care not to wake you when I rushed to comply."

"That's very considerate of you, brother." Briac interrupted gratefully.

"Well, anyway, there was Tizan at the Captain's side.  I'd swear the devil never sleeps.”

04--TZAN JP

“I could see that the captain considered the whole matter too trivial to bother about, but it was Tizan, all right, who had instigated this trouble.  He magnified it to serve his own ill purposes.  Then I was subjected to the inquisition at length, about the events of last night."  Frastos paused to watch Briac's pantomime of outrage then, narrowing his eyes, continued, "When I attempted to cover up for you, since I didn't want to give the Lieutenant any satisfaction, Tizan accused me of conspiracy, asking all sorts of questions: “Why had we rendezvoused with the locals?”, ”What was the disagreement that resulted in the fight?”, “What part did the woman play in all of this?” 

“Anyhow, he went on and on.  He even had the audacity to accuse us of having secret, intimate relations together.  I cannot say more, other than it was a vile and bestial thought."

                                                                        ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 23)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 1

01- ZONAR KUNTZU

 Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac), relentlessly pursuing Mouro Kerr, ascended several flights of stairs that led upwards to the open air.  As he took the next sharp turn, however, he found himself face to face with Zonar Kuntzu, grasping in his left hand, suspended by the hair, the ghastly severed head of Mouro, dripping its blood onto the corpse at his feet.

"I abhor debauched officials, but, even more, I despise devious cowards." Zonar grunted, glowering at Mouro's head before he hurled it into the distance with disdain.

His fiery eyes next riveted on Fradel.  "Our meeting was not ordained for this night," he spoke sternly then, turning his back on Fradel, walked away.

 At that instant, however, Fradel leaped into the air and flipped over Zonar's head to land right before him and block his way.

 Zonar, taken aback slightly, knit his brows, "Are you courting death, sir?" He should actually had called him nephew… but not yet!  Zonar ruminated (brooded, pouted).

Fradel, bowing in respect, begged the warrior's indulgence and asked for Zonar's full name so that he may offer his proper thanks to his benefactor who had, not once but twice, rendered him a valuable service.

Zonar grimaced wryly, "You are too polite sir.  Thanks, are neither warranted nor necessary, since I am only reciprocating a kind turn rendered to me once."

He was about to walk away again when Fradel more persistently barred his way, requesting an introduction and a proper surname.

Checking his annoyance, Zonar glowed.  "And you, sir, are you in turn willing to oblige me by disclosing your true (legitimate) identity?" he asked with icy cynicism.

Taken aback slightly, Nevetsecnuac burrowed his questioning eyes on Zonar.  He hesitated, not wishing to insult (affront) this formidable warrior's intelligence by insisting that he was, indeed, the scholarly poet Fradel Rurik Korvald, yet still consumed with a desire to learn just how much Zonar knew or suspected.

02- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC)

"I thought not," Zonar interrupted the suspenseful air.  "To each his own, then,” as he turned his back once more, he added in a thundering voice, "but I thank you for your courtesy; denial at this point would only have incurred my ire.”

Nevetsecnuac had, just then, detected a familiar, slight accent in Zonar's dialect, one not unlike that of the assassin Duan. Quite intrigued, Nevetsecnuac remained ever more reluctant to let Zonar go; feet firmly planted on ground, he stubbornly blocked Zonar’s path as his mind pondered.

 “It has to be more than paranoia, more than a mere fluke that our paths have crossed with such frequency; but what importance does these coincidences entail?”

Nevetsecnuac had first encountered Zonar innocently enough at Aguda and Yagu's Inn but, since then, the strong sense (intuition) of being persistently stalked had both intrigued and troubled him. Possessing incredible prowess, Zonar had appeared and disappeared without a trace at will; in Yenis Luko's room at Kuno Temple, then again at the trial, where he disappeared dramatically in the midst of a crowd after issuing his threat to Micen Do, and his sudden appearance again here. This could not all be mere coincidences; therefore, what was it Zonar really after?  And since Nevetsecnuac could not ascertain the precise timing of Zonar's (appearance) materialization at this last locale, he abstained from theorizing why Zonar had not joined in the fray (combat) earlier on, either for or against him. Zonar’s poignant reference to their impending future meeting, on the other hand, merited probing. With Heng Erling’s treachery still fresh in mind, Nevetsecnuac (forgoing all the conjecture,) glued his gaze on Zonar but this time with a look of askance, wishing to engage him in friendly dialogue, regardless of the consequences.

“Are you done, probing?” Zonar was briefly amused.

"Your persistence, however, is getting rather tiresome." Zonar stared down at Nevetsecnuac. “Unfortunately, I am pressed for time and furthermore, I have no wish to engage in dialogue or fight (test) with you at this point in time. “ Zonar was about to snap his fingers and simply disappear, but then on second thought, he stayed long enough to add: “ I would think that your mind would be beset with more pressing concerns, such as, the whereabouts of Fradel Rurik Korvald's real identity papers. For without them, how could you gain entry to the Capital to ultimately fulfill your destiny?"

 Noting Nevetsecnuac's slight start at the emphasis on the word 'real' he threw his head back and laughed raucously…Then, before Nevetsecnuac could respond, "Oh, here."

 In a flash Zonar produced the envelope from an inner pocket and thrust it into Nevetsecnuac's hand.

03- ZONAR KUNTZU

 "No need to thank me for them, either." he shrugged.  "They were of no use to me, anyway."

Seeing that they were, indeed, the originals and not the forgeries Mouro had spoken of, Nevetsecnuac's heart filled with gratitude, and he looked up at once to thank Zonar and to question him about it.

 He was nowhere to be seen.  Quite mysteriously once more, Zonar had disappeared without a trace into thin air, with not even the slightest sound to alert Nevetsecnuac's keen senses.  Frowning, Nevetsecnuac strained his eyes and scanned the area.

"Don't fret, we'll be meeting again soon enough." the thunderous voice shook the skies, and the subsequent roaring laughter trailed off into the distance.

Nevetsecnuac's entreaties for him to halt, his dares to manifest himself fell on deaf ears so, eventually, he gave up trying and returned to the matters at hand.  Nevetsecnuac clad in more appropriate (armor) travelling attire, first secured Hecun's sword, this along with his scholar's vestments and identity papers in a bundle, Nevetsecnuac fastened them all onto the harness of Mouro's charger (strong cavalry horse). He gave a proper burial to Doctor Sullen and the others then vaulting the mare resumed his journey to the Capital.

                                                                               ~

In the ensuing days and nights, Nevetsecnuac could not shake the feeling of being monitored (watched) by an unseen entity; for intuitively, despite the seeming absence of form, he certainly sensed unearthly presence at every turn. It was like that of Zonar’s aura, a force, and yet not quite the same… This presence was, inured, (callous, desensitized) yet same time more deadly and, it definitely was in pursuit of something or someone, other than him. Nevetsecnuac was just a conduit (channel, means); the phantom hunter (tracker) had intangibly stalked him to attain real prey (target). Nevetsecnuac did not know it, but he had instinctively detected the unseen presence of an immortal, one called Dwengzur; who had been assigned to hunt down and destroy the renegade Immortal before he reached his full potential.

04- NEVETSECNUAC BEING MONITORED BY UNSEEN DWENGZUR

A scant scent of target had led Dwengzur to that spot where the previous battle had taken place. Nevetsecnuac, a sole survivor emerging from the scene, warranted attention and therefore had been pursued; but when the mark (trace, hint), whatever was attached to this mortal had proven false, then one day Nevetsecnuac’s keen sensation of been persistently monitored, had abruptly cessed (terminated, ended).

                                                                                   ~

Several days later, however, the sensation of being observed by an unknown force had again returned, though, this one was not hostile.  Nevertheless, Nevetsecnuac was bit peeved (annoyed, ticked off), that he’d been persistently for some unknown reason was being monitored and audaciously, subtly tested; and so, once after a long, tiring ride, when he halted for respite at the edge of a thick forest, near a flowing creak, he’d shouted his dare into the air:

“If you are fair, face me true, or, try another, more (effective) potent tactic.”

Subsequently, as he waited for a response, (with his senses on high alert,) he’d perfunctorily laid down his bedding under an ancient tree and, after starting a small campfire, his eyes pensively watched the steed graze on the lush grass, then quietly sat down to, for his sustenance, roast the already cleaned and gutted small game (rabbit)  he’d snared earlier on.  

His hunger satiated, after a bout (spell) of reflection, for disappointingly nothing untoward had happening (manifesting): “Oh well,” shrugging his shoulders, Nevetsecnuac briefly looked up at the cloudless sky overhead, which was blanketed with stars that winked incessantly, then donning a knowing, broad smile, he reclined and closed his eyes in sleep.

Suddenly, as if in answer to his earlier challenge, an arrow pierced the air and, finding its mark, got buried deep into the log where Nevetsecnuac had used as his pillow, its shaft barely grazing the tip of his nose.

"You are back; but surely you can do better!" Nevetsecnuac, unperturbed, chortled and, pulling out the arrow, with ease, tossed it aside.

"Don't provoke me, for I can ground your bones to dust with but a single blow."

A terrifying voice boomed (roared) out of the darkness.

"You're welcome to try." Nevetsecnuac masking his inner elation (excitement), with a wry grin goaded presumed Zonar further, eyes still (closed) shut tight.

In a bolder move yet, Nevetsecnuac simply shifted his body to get more comfortable and then yawning, plaintively mumbled.  "I’ve had a long day’s ride but pray do your worst for; as yet, you have shown me nothing of your vaunted might?"

The dare had barely left his lips when, with a deafening, crackling sound, the ancient tree sheltering Nevetsecnuac split right down the middle into two perfect halves. If not for a nimble jump to safety, Nevetsecnuac would have been pulverized under the enormous trunk as it came crashing (in big chunks) to the ground. His mare, as luck would have it, was tethered to another tree opposite and so had escaped the danger.

"How unreasonable, this tree had existed for thousands of years yet perished in a flash." Nevetsecnuac shook his head disapprovingly as he viewed the damage.  "Such is the vanity of man."

05- NEVETSECNUAC DISSAPPOINTED

"You dare mock me?"  Zonar's thundering voice, though he remained invisible still, quaked the ground under Nevetsecnuac's feet, suddenly splitting it wide open, with dislodged soil and rock subsequently plunging (plummeting) into a deep chasm (gorge).

Nevetsecnuac had escaped this catastrophe by nimbly, in the nick of time, jumping to one side of the precipice.  After which, still clinging onto the exposed roots at the edge, he’d hauled himself up to safety. He nonchalantly dusted off his clothes while inwardly marveling at the other's incredible powers.

Unperturbed, he shouted out defiantly, “You had best resign (quit) tonight, for I refuse to oblige your whims any longer.  Sleep is what awaits me now."  This said, he picked out another suitable ground under another ancient tree and reclined his head. Nothing much happened that evening and he slept soundly till dawn.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)                                                                                           ~