Showing posts with label prisoner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prisoner. Show all posts

Thursday 12 September 2024

FISHERMAN'S PRIZE - (PART 4)

 FISHERMAN'S PRIZE
(PART 4)


One stormy night, the unsettled stomach, the persistent noise of her husband’s snores compounded by the loud racket outside whipped up by the prevalent winds- all in all had prevented Ensa from attaining any sleep. To the small hours hence, she’d endlessly turned and tossed in her bed, now and then pounding and shifting the positioning of her pillow.

Just then one of the shutters’ hinges came loose: it began banging on the windowsill with a still louder noise. On an odd chance, it being an intruder or a wild beast, Ensa gently nudged her husband to awaken him. But Kaimu, having had particularly a grueling day at sea, remained dead to the world!

Taking hold of her senses, Ensa cautiously rose from her bed and crept towards the windowsill to investigate. Affirming (pinpointing) the real cause of the noise, she shook her head and smiled then did her best to fasten the shutters. Suddenly however her keen eyesight had caught a faint, flickering light in the window of a supposedly vacant dwelling of their neighbor’s.

Alarmed, she rushed to raise Kaimu. By the time she’d succeeded in dragging him over to the window, however, everything over at Zianko’s place appeared as before- enveloped in pitch darkness and devoid of any signs of life! On her insistence, Kaimu had begrudgingly lingered at the spot a while longer and in compliance, looked and looked!

Still nothing was (could be) seen out of the ordinary!

Kaimu then incensed at being disturbed from his deep stupor, he accused her of being stir crazy, or worse still, going senile. “You are not a malicious woman but your contempt for Zianko, your resentment of him has lured you into this mode. Now in your spitefulness, you’re imagining things when there’s no cause! I’m going to bed. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t bother me again!”

Then with curses under his breath he’d crawled back under the warm quilts and promptly returned to his previous blissful state of sleep.

Ensa was not convinced and so for a while longer stayed rooted to the spot, hoping to catch another glimpse (inkling) of the light. Her instincts warned her of something dire, something baleful! “But what could it be?”

After a while, in the continued absence of any further proof, even she had begun to doubt her eyes. So reluctantly, muttering to herself, she too returned to the warm bed in the hope of attaining some sleep (getting at least a few hours of slumber).

On the proceeding day, as the odd feeling in her gut persisted, Ensa on some pretext, ventured midway of the two properties to get a closer look. Her keen eyes scrutinized the cabin and the surrounding area, avidly searching, but in vain, for any sign of disturbance or anything out of the ordinary.

Her instincts had never failed her before; but in this instance, maybe it had! Clearly that rogue Zianko had not returned and there was no sign of fire, break in or vandalism. The wind had strewn (scattered) few light items about. That’s all!

Reluctantly she turned back.  The total absence of anything odd or contrary had in the end abated Ensa’s suspicions and curiosity. Feeling rather foolish for her insistence now, she said nothing further to Kaimu about the matter.

                                                            ~

 If only she’d known how close she’d come to uncovering the vile conspiracy, or perhaps saving the life of a certain official- that’d been up until then forced to endure repugnant shame and lurid (horrific) tortures. On that night in question, the resourceful official, in order to escape his dire predicament, had ceased the only opportunity and releasing himself from his bonds, had made a mad dash for his freedom. Zianko temporarily caught off-guard, had been but for a spell rendered unconscious. Unfortunately, rebounding swiftly he’d dashed outside in hot pursuit of the official, pounced on his captive and after brutally restraining him, dragged him by the hair back into the house. Incensed, he’d fetched a burning piece of kindling wood from the stove and proceeded to singe (scorch) the official’s beard and face. That burst of light becoming a flicker in distance was what Ensa had observed (detected). Since Zianko had been prohibited as yet from killing his gagged prisoner, he’d reluctantly stayed his hand, but not before he’d seriously scorched the official’s facial hair, eyes, skin and part of the upper chest. Before incensed Zianko could devise another means of punishment: to his dismay the official succumbing to his agonizing pain had been rendered unconscious.

Owing to the distance, Ensa had been mercifully spared from least indication of the subsequent muffled anguished, agonizing cries of the tormented official at this villain’s hand, as outraged Zianko had kept up with his tirade till first light of the day. It would have been far more merciful had the official expired quickly. Unfortunately, losing then regaining consciousness he’d been forced to endure unspeakable torment to the bitter end. At dawn, too late Zianko came to regret his outburst- for the life of the captive, under the heavy strain of torture, had inevitably expired.

As luck would have it however, at the end of the worrisome day, that very evening Zianko had received the word “go ahead”.

Official’s life from then on was deemed a forfeit.

Zianko had grinned wryly, as he’d listened without letting on, to the next set of instructions and the manner of payment that was due him. Once the messenger had departed, Zianko humming a familiar old gay tune had gone about in his mundane, apathetic way, to summarily dispose of the carcass (dead body).

  The following day, he’d feigned his return home from a supposed long journey, and seemingly on the surface, things went on as before.

 (END OF SECTION 4)

(MORE SURPRISING ELEMENTS ARE YET TO UNFOLD-  IN THE NEXT POST OF LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE FISHERMAN’S PRIZE,  SECTION 5)