Showing posts with label rescue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rescue. Show all posts

Friday, 21 August 2026

11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 2

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 2

   

For some time now, Egil Viggoaries had employed a heartless, homicidal surgeon Lubin, one of only two in the whole Wenjenkun who excelled in the sadistic skill of prolonging the duration of the meted punishment to the maximum the body would stand. The other one Egil could not touch, for he was actively in the employ of Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek.  

 

01- SURGEON LUBIN


There had been few precursors to Lubin, but all four had been abruptly terminated and then discarded by Egil Viggoaries when an unsatisfactory application of the blade had brought about a hasty end to the unfortunate victim. Egil Viggoaries was intolerant of least incompetence; furthermore, he often indulged in tormenting people as it provided him with the highest form of entertainment, and Lubin was his ringmaster.   

Lubin provided Egil Viggoaries with just the right dose of exhilaration to satisfy his perverse appetite for at least one briefer spell, before yet again the insatiable hunger (craving) resurfaced in the Dark Eunuch’s bottomless vile soul. Then the evil savagery and malice would recap (repeat) all over again.  

Zhadol Borym had never once in those abhorred compulsory (obligatory) episodes, where he had born witness to Lubin’s savagery, expected to be the next prey (target). Each time he hardened his heart, being so coerced and therefore believed (was sure), that those faceless phantom brutes, the barely human forms, were well deserving of such penalty. Nevertheless, and this he would never admit to anyone, his misled warrior’s conscience (scruples) and tempered soul still had to be forcefully willed to a distant, way faraway place,  before he could stomach (tolerate) the unfolding scene before his very eyes: Lubin in each case, had wielded the blade skillfully as if skinning a fish, ensuing days and weeks he would then painstakingly (meticulously) cut away, each strip, leaving only a jumbled mass of nerves to collect and transmit black ropes of pain that pulsed through, with fading life; all the while ensuring that the victim did not prematurely expire until the very end of this tortuous ordeal.  

Zhadol at present shuddered involuntarily, as he could not shut out the parade of gruesome images from his mind's eye; mindful of the fact, that Lubin's expert application of the razor-sharp scalpel (surgical knife) would soon be poised on his (Zadol’s) very flesh. He furtively glanced once more at Egil Viggoaries. The Eunuch's face was dark, and his jaw firmly set.  But what had seemed like an eternity to Zhadol Borym had in truth, been only a few minutes.    

“Was this the fate Egil Viggoaries had planned for him all along? No! He could not meekly accept such an ignominious punishment... He must contest this vile verdict! “  

 

Commander Zhadol rising to his feet, menacingly stepped forward but was instantly jerked back, as the chain about his neck was viciously yanked by one of his guards. His steadfast resistance only resulted in the metal biting deeper into his existing wounds. Blood oozed freely out from the corrugated scabs layered atop his blistered flesh. Undeterred Zhadol Borym stayed his ground, looking defiantly up at Egil Viggoaries, his eyes burrowing ferociously into Dark Eunuch’s, he then in resounding voice, loudly challenged him to one-on one personal combat; this was his right, Egil owed him this more befitting a warrior’s end, and that he refused to accept nothing (short) less.    

“Still, no reaction; all right then, he will defy Egil by other means. Pending something better, he   would goad (provoke) the Dark Eunuch using insolent words.”  

 

"You stupid fool!" Egil Viggoaries beat him to the punch however, as he abruptly just then, exploded in a bark. Then rising slowly, he menacingly approached Zhadol Borym until he was only but a hairline away. His right fist clenched, poised to strike. He glowered at his former Commander and then spat contemptuously into his face. "Even now you remain ignorant of your true crime."  He turned and gave a swift, brutal kick to Yennic's head. Stunned, Yennic fell backwards, blood spurting from the deep gash on his scalp. 

Egil Viggoaries’s head snapped back and pressed his face right up against Zhadol Borym's. Gritting his teeth and pointing the accusing finger down at the huddled mass on the floor, Egil Viggoaries spat out the incredible words Zhadol Borym wished he would never live to hear.   


02- EGIL VIGGORIES 11- JP

 

“You disgust me; for you were played all along; your strings were jerked, like a despicable puppet, by this wretched, insignificant maggot!"  Egil Biggoaries gave a derisive snort and once more violently kicked Yennic Zhiborym hard with the back of his heel just for the sport of it.

The Dark Eunuch then swung back to Zhadol and rasped, "Your abject weakness sickens (nauseate) me!" Egil with a disdain spat on the ground and haughtily turned his back to his long-time friend Zhadol. His steps thereafter with deliberate slowness mounted the platform, and he returned to his seat.

Aghast, Zhadol Borym turned his questioning gaze sideways and looked down at Yennic Zhiborym slouched (curled, doubled over) on the ground, then, tilting his head upwards to face Egil Viggoaries, he indignantly demanded, "This is nothing more than a dastardly plot to discredit me. I know it is! Clearly state the crime of which I am truly accused! Furthermore, I challenge you to muster any proof which would substantiate your implicit (roundabout) claim? False confessions extracted under duress and torture does not count!”   

"Proof," Egil Viggoaries’s thundering bark shook the room.  

"He wants proof." Dark Eunuch addressed the assembly after a derisive laugh.  

 "Proof." Repeating the word third time, at first thoughtfully, then stone faced, Egil Viggoaries reverted his venomous eyes to rest for a time on Yennic Zhiborym, before turning it back again on Zhadol.

Egil’s face then surprisingly placid (calm); lips formed an eerie, menacing smile. "I had wanted to spare you ignominy (this terrible disgrace, shame), but proof you asked for and proof you shall have."  He shrugged then leaned back and motioned to a guard waiting by the door.  

Zhadol Borym's heart filled with apprehension at that instant with what he might hear. He swallowed dryly; his stomach suddenly tightened into a hard knot; but now it was too late to stop it. The guard had already re-entered leading two members belonging to the “Wraiths” division of Black Molochs. These incorruptible eunuchs, clad in black and wearing face masks to hide their identity, were most proficient at gathering evidence.  They came forward quickly and abruptly halting before Egil

Viggoaries, reverently bowed to him. Such was their status that they were answerable only to the Leader of the Order. From their preamble it turned out that, for some time now, Yennic Zhiborym had been kept under close surveillance.  His every word, action, and habitual need, however insignificant, had been routinely and meticulously documented in the minutest detail. In the interest of brevity, however, Egil Viggoaries ordered them to summarize their findings.  

The spokesperson for the two then recounted the high points, most of which proved extremely embarrassing for Zhadol Borym.  In a very brief time they presented overwhelming evidence, far beyond any possibility of doubt, that Yennic Zhiborym was an informant for the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s Office. However distasteful, Yennic's heinous designs, and Zhadol’s unwitting part in them, were all exposed.  

What is more ignominious to Zhadol Borym was that Yennic's inextricable link to the sabotage of one specific case. This assignment had gone terribly awry and had cost the lives of nine Black Molochs 's most competent men, among whom had been Zhadol 's only living relative, a distant cousin.   

At this point Egil Viggoaries lifted his hand and stopped the report. "You want more culpable (chargeable) proof?"   

Zhadol Borym ruefully (repentantly) looked down, "No, I've heard enough."     

He heaved a dejected sigh, now resigned to his fate. He so absolutely (thoroughly) regretted his past foolhardy ways with Yennic Zhiborym.  Zadol’s shame being far too great, he could no longer lift his head to look at his fellow members. More infuriating still, was the way he had been duped by Yennic and utilized to, in betraying the Order. The love he had once felt for Yennic Zhiborym had suddenly got supplanted with pure, unadulterated odium (abhorrence, loathing). Fire raged through his limbs now, as he stared belligerently down at this despicable spy. If his hands were free, he would have violently torn Yennic limb from limb, and then plugging his heart from his cursed chest, just eaten it raw; however, curbing his fury Zhadol with certain resignation uttered, “Then my allotted punishment is too lenient; I deserve far worse for being so inept.”   

The members of the Inner Circle (of Black Molochs) were appalled at first but now disappointment was starkly written on all their faces, as their piercing, harsh gazes silently remonstrated with Zhadol   Borym. “You had so utterly failed us, failed the Order. You deserve this cruelest end!”  

 

03- IRATE BLACK MOLOCK  AFFILIATES


Egil Viggoaries nodded and grinned; quite satisfied with the effects of his theatrics.  He’d anticipated that there might have been some of the Inner Circle who, if they had dared at all, would have debated against his decision to terminate Zhadol Borym in that way; one who, with that sleek tongue of his, would have argued that Zhadol was in his prime, just shy of twenty-eight years of age and was as yet a formidable fighter, still an asset to the Order.   

“Now they’re precisely where, I’d wished them to be.”    

Egil Viggoaries had bridled his temper just long enough to reaffirm his otherwise indubitable, absolute judgment. Now no one in the assembly would dare express the least objection (discontentment) with his next, more arduous agenda (plan, course of action).  Zhadol Borym, well, he was only a lateral casualty. It mattered little to Egil that he had used his long-time friend Zhadol heartlessly as sure bait, knowing full well his weakness and habitual response.    

Egil Viggoaries now laughed sourly and gave a slight gesture to the guards with his chin. 

Dispassionately he watched the bloodied backs of Zhadol and Yennic as they were dragged outside, never to be seen again.  

                                                                                        ~   

   

Egil Viggoaries could have arranged for Zhadol Borym to have a less painful way out; certain drugs which numbed the senses instead of Lubin's usual medicines which enhanced the suffering.  

“Why should I? No,”    

Despite what Zhadol had once meant to him, how much he had done for him. Despite all the daunting images from the past, Egil Viggoaries remained firm in his resolve. He could not allow his hardened heart to dispense least charity; he could not weaken his doggedness (determination) nor feel least compassion for his once intimate companion.  Zhadol Borym meant less than nothing to him now, especially since he had been growing too arrogant of late. At least now he was rid of Zhadol's irksome and sanctimonious presence once and for all, before the so-called friend became more of a problem.  

Egil closed his eyes, quite angry with himself for this sudden, unexpected twinge of conscience. Why was he now second guessing his earlier resolve; had it been Zhadol’s last look that brought this unexpected rush of feelings he had thought long erased (dismissed)? Zhadol Borym was pegged (marked) to be terminated, and that was that!  

Vindictiveness, in Black Molochs ... he was above such ignoble emotions. Egil Viggoaries lied to himself, only to have another thought gnaw at him unexpectedly.  

True enough, if Zhadol had wanted to, he could have made good for his escape, reinforcements, or no reinforcements. Of course, he would have inevitably been hunted down and apprehended, but not before he cost the Order (organization) a dire toll in both manpower (loss of men) and resources. With his competence, it was inconceivable to think that Zhadol, one day, be so gulled, so completely taken in by the likes of Yennic Zhiborym. And why had he surrendered so easily?   

He had deep affections for Yennic…Was that it? Had that fool allowed his capture solely to appeal to the other’s case or die with him? If that was his reason, then he certainly deserved his ignominious end. He deserved to perish, if for no other (reason) bases than that most contemptable, of weakness. Egil Viggoaries inwardly scoffed, overlooking the fact that he’d so many years been the recipient of that very akin sentiment; those tender, affectionate means and deeds that had filled in the void and warmed the otherwise cold, unfeeling crux of his being. Again, he lied to himself, entertaining the thought that, fortunately, he was above all that. He had no use presently, for such a base, useless emotion, at all.    

Egil Viggoaries again hard-heartedly shrugged and turned his thoughts to another.  In the next week or two he will be initiating his recent recruit, Yuchemos Mantus, into the ranks of the Inner Circle.


04- YUCHEMOS MANTUS (3)

 

 Yuchemos Mantus, showed real promise, and what is more, he had already subtly ingratiated himself into the good graces of both Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek and Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren.  Egil Viggoaries smirked, reflecting on the fact Yuchemos was the sole male offspring of, Demarco Mantus, head of the most influential family in Channing; hence, strategically placed, he would be most beneficial in fulfilling his (Egil Viggoaries’s) ultimate ambition.  

                                                                                           ~   

In the dark subterranean dungeons below, where the air was permanently rancid, and lichen (moss, fungus and mold) grew on the moist stone walls, Zhadol Borym that night had endured without a whimper the first measure of his punishment, and he had braced himself for the worst torment yet to ensue during the small hours of the same night. The surgeon had left his sight temporarily for repast, with his ghastly, lurid grin and a vicious promise to return and resume later with his special application, one specifically designed for Zhadol, whom he would administer, with definite zeal.    

No one, certainly not Zhadol Borym, had ever hoped or anticipated, the stray element (conduit), the mercifully unexpected reprieve from his ignominious end; this, by another powerful faction, the covert brotherhood of Kozurs, that dared to execute the impossible feat (brazen exploit, stunt).  

Nevertheless, this daring rescue had compounded ramifications; consequently, Egil Viggoaries would never cease (stop) his relentless hunt. Therefore, Zhadol’s Borym’s demise had to be staged so expertly that it would not warrant the Dark Eunuch’s least suspicion.    

In the aftermath of devastating explosions and the resulting seismic tremors, that had rocked the subterranean dungeons in the core capital Channing – that of which had completely obliterated (decimated) the cell which Zhadol Borym had been shackled to on the table, as well,  destroyed the perimeter (vicinity) cells around and above, all of it buried in ashen rubble- it its wake it had created a deep cavernous (yawning, gaping) sinkhole.

Unavoidably, many prisoners and captives’ lives (those in surrounding dungeons) had also (been lost) expired due to the devastating impact of the explosion. Though this could be deemed more an act of clemency to those already lost souls, awaiting interminable (unending) mortifying tortures.   

This breach, naturally instigated (provoked) serious inquiry (examination) by all major factions, including Sovereign Zakhertan’s Black Band Guard (and the shadow Brigade); however, the results (conclusions) all pinpointed to a catastrophic yet bizarre accident, indubitably a fortuity/a fluke happenstance, by a carelessly positioned volatile element which had beget that catastrophic blasts. 

Even subsequent month’s ardent investigations, by the persistent few, still failed to prove otherwise, failed to expose this expertly conceived strike... The details of which had been covertly finalized during the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s party given in honor of Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. During the time, which Nevetsecnuac had sought refuge and by capricious fate, had chanced on Zaur Stugr and Lenny Sukzor, that memorable night, in the secluded part of the garden.    

Zhadol Borym’s close friends and affiliates were of course stealthily (privately) elated at this outcome, the quick and more humane (lenient) demise of a well esteemed, brave Commander Zhadol, deeming it a mercy of Heaven; for in truth Zhadol was well liked and, he had a quality about him that fostered (beget) intrinsic and lasting loyalty (comradery and devotion) among his men.   

 The Dark Eunuch’s fury, meanwhile, had still demanded blood and so, during ensuing days besides the copious wretched prisoners, many hapless prison-guards that had been on duty that night, and had the misfortune to survive the blasts, had paid for their incompetence (ineptness) and the resulting breach, of the deemed impenetrable prison.    

Eventually things had died down, especially after the ongoing excavations, had produced (unearthed

(dug up, retrieved) several small pieces (fragments) of Zhadol Boerym’s supposed charred remains (corpse) with irrefutable, identifiable markers. These (presented in a box) brought before the still incensed Egil Viggoaries, had finally alleviated (eased) his suspicious and demanding nature.    

                                                                             ~   

(END OF SECTION 2)   

Thursday, 2 October 2025

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 29

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 29


 

When Canute Yonn was again interrogated, he insisted on the validity (legitimacy) of his previous statement and, without variance, repeated that he had left the horse and a certain portion of the booty with Yenis exactly where he had said he did.  "I'm not that immoral (reprehensible) to forsake a lone woman stranded and vulnerable in an abandoned temple, your Honor."

His assertion made Micen scoff, "You murderous bandit!  After all your abominable acts, you dare to assume such noble, moral airs, with me. I warn you, my patience with you is at an end.  Now, confess!  What have you really done with the booty, other than the trifling amount that was found on you? I said confess, or I'll make you wish you were never born!"

Seeing it was pointless to protest further, Canute imparted what they wanted to hear and, mixing it in with the truth, disclosed how he had given the greater portion of the valuables to Miake Temple in exchange for prayers for his mother's soul.

 "The idea, I profess, had occurred to me in the courtyard of Kuno Temple, when I viewed the tragically exposed bones of the monks, and was reminded of man's brief and futile existence on this earth."

"Such impudence…Tragic bones, indeed!  Go on, but I warn you, just stick to the facts."  Micen motioned for Canute to continue.

Canute lifted his head and, gazing fixedly at the insignia of the Prefect's Office hung before Micen Do, distractedly resumed, "Yes, because the horse proved useless, I had to exchange it and some of the valuables for another one and meant to use the rest to reach safe passage to a mountain refuge."  Canute lapsed into silence again.

 He had hoped to fulfill at least a part of his promise to his mother by escaping to safety and settling down somewhere where no one knew him, where he could grow old and lead an unremarkable life.  A sure fantasy, he had to admit inwardly, yes, a dream that was never meant to be.  A fleeting, wry smile brushed Canute's pallid lips as he closed his eyes and let his body go limp.

"What's the matter with him?  Is he delirious again?  Bring him out of it!"

The bailiff supporting Canute's left arm impatiently tried to nudge Canute out of his trance.  "He's still breathing, Your Honor, but he refuses to respond.  It’s no use, sir, I’m afraid he's out cold now."

"Never mind, let him be." Micen, with a wave of his hand stayed any further attempts to revive Canute.

 "We need not spend any more of this court's time on his testimony.  We've got most of it now, anyway."  Then, with his stern, official visage, Micen ordered that Canute be pilloried until he could reach a supposedly a just decision on the method of execution.

Striking down the gavel, Micen then dismissed (concluded the session) the court.

 As the prisoner was being dragged away, the Prefect, with his secretary, carrying the bulky documents and recorded confessions, retired (withdrew) to his private quarters in back.

Refusing to see anyone, especially Mouro, Micen sunk into his padded chair and began reviewing Canute's confession from start to finish, making notes as he went along.

He then began to dictate to his secretary, changing some parts and eliminating others entirely.

 "When it’s prepared, you will report to me for a final review then you may take the documents to Mouro and have him secure the prisoner's thumb print on the bottom for validation."  Micen having dispensed his final instructions to his secretary turned his back to him and leisurely strolled over to the widow, with his hands thoughtfully clasped behind his back.

 As he peered outside, he grinned in satisfaction.  By the time I hold court tomorrow morning he should have expired, and since there has been no other to contest the case on his behalf, I can foresee no problems.  Hmm, the Luko family should be very grateful to me for my discrete handling of this case, since I've spared them from scandal.  He rubbed his hands expectantly as he returned to his desk.

 Now they should, of course, be held liable for the costs of the necessary bribes to the essential staff members that were present in court at the time of the prisoner's confession; that is if their silence is to be secured indefinitely.  Having reached his desk, he plumped himself into the plush chair and began idly fingering the high pile of documents.

 He was inwardly deliberating how best to approach the Luko family to secure even greater gain, when his thoughts were abruptly disrupted by a knock.

His permission sounded, the underling entered, walked right up to Micen and presented him with the calling card from Esquire Latham Luko.

"Begging your pardon, Your Honor, but, though I informed the honorable gentleman of your wish not to be disturbed, he refuses to go away and insists on waiting until Your Honor is disposed to see him. Shall I have him forcefully ejected? "

“Speak of the devil!” Micen mumbled, then lowering his head, mused. But how on earth did he know, rather, anticipate my intent on paying him a visit this very night?  No matter, he just saved me from the trouble.

 Micen feigning slight annoyance lifted his stern gaze from the document (he pretended to read) and instructed, "No, since he's here, have him come in."

03- LATHAM  LUKO , aged thirty-two

Latham’s stern face, sporting a slight polite smile on his lips, was ushered in at once and, after polite greetings, was shown to a chair.  The congenial felicitations and mutual flattery quickly dispensed with over tea, Latham donning (wearing) a serious demeanor got right to the point and urged Micen to pass swift judgment on Fradel Rurik Korvald when court next resumed, as any undue delay (dragging this matter out) would perpetuate his family’s unwarranted anguish.

 If Micen had not known better, he would have been totally beguiled, by Latham’s feigning ignorance, of the latest (string of) developments in this case.

 It came as no surprise to Latham, however, when the Prefect announced happily that it was not Fradel, but the son of a former servant, Canute Yonn, who was the real culprit. The former gang member had been incarcerated, his confession already obtained (under duress) and, left in the darkest, heavily guarded dungeon to await final verdict.

"Tomorrow morning his case will be first on the agenda when he will be duly sentenced according to law.  As events are already proceeding at a satisfactory pace, there is no reason for you or your family to be at all concerned."

"You are indeed quite proficient Official, to resolve this case expediently, sir.  You really are to be congratulated." Latham circumspectly flattered the Prefect.

 Highly pleased, Micen, after his supposed momentary pondering, gave Latham what he was after, a brief account of the pertinent details of Canute's capture and the key points of the trial.

 Latham Luko masked his unease well as he patiently listened then, nonchalantly (casually) inquired whether Canute's confession had divulged a motive for his heinous crime against the elder Luko.

 “Why had Senson been the sole target; he had never so much as (laid eyes on) met this Canute Yonn? Also, why did this despicable culprit not hurt (victimized) any other members of the Luko family, while he had the chance?” 

Latham was particularly anxious to learn why he, himself, had been spared, but masked it well, behind the seemingly dispassionate general inquiry.  He even, at this point, admitted to his own insignificant, chance encounter with the convict and promptly confessed his cold and haughty treatment, his refusal of Canute's pitiful attempts to gain his acquaintance, with the purpose of securing his patronage.

"I had sensed, even then, that he was not one of our kind, that he was only playing at being a gentleman.  There were too many unknowns in his background and that made me wary.  Now I realize that I had been right about him all along."

He pensively looked away for a moment, “It’s unfortunate that I could not convince my elder brother of my views.”

Returning his undivided attention to Micen, he then asked anxiously, "Tell me, sir; was his motive a misdirected enmity?  Was it an unfortunate act of murder in the course of a robbery, or was it premeditated?"

Most curious indeed, Micen mused.  No questions at all about Yenis's part (involvement) in all of this.  Continuing the charade, he smiled wryly, "Calm yourself, sir.  It won't do (help), for you to get into such a state and injure your health.  As it is, you are now burdened with the elaborate funeral arrangements, on top of bearing (assuming) your elder brother's family responsibilities.  You know very well that I should not be discussing the case with you at all, but since we are such good friends, I feel I can make an exception.  I must caution you, however, that what I'm about to tell you must never leave this room, for reasons which will soon become obvious."

"I am grateful for your discretion, Micen, and your kindness shall not be forgotten." Latham politely bowed his head then sat upright in rapt attention.

"In view of the delicate nature of your sister-in-law's involvement in this case I took the precaution of having the court cleared of all viewers and non-essential staff before a full confession was extracted from Canute Yonn.  I had expected to discover that, after their adulterous affair was exposed, Canute Yonn's hand was forced and he resorted to violence, already palpable (evident) in his nature, to extricate himself from the sticky situation and avoid the impending retribution from Senson.  But, of course, this was not to be the case." Micen rose to his feet and waddled over to the window to look outside.  He could not resist toying with Latham, whose fidgeting in his seat, Micen could well sense, even with his back to Latham.

 Good let him fester a bit and sweat it out. Micen grinned coldly.  Assuming a grim, serious look, Micen returned to his seat to offer Latham more tea.

Not daring to offend the Prefect, Latham assented and sipped his tea in pained silence until Micen put down the empty cup and picked up where he had left off.  "As I was saying, I could not have been more wrong in my assumption, for it turned out to be just another typical case of robbery and murder.  Seeing how your family was so affluent, the ruffian had conspired from the start to rob you by exploiting the weakness, if you will forgive my saying so, of your sister-in-law.  Women are so unreliable, so impressionable, don't you agree?  If you ask me, Senson was too good for the likes of her and certainly did not deserve such treachery.”

“It’s most unfortunate that, during the robbery, Senson awoke and met his untimely end, after confronting the bandit."

Micen's discretion did not go unappreciated.  Latham understood perfectly that he had just heard the altered(distorted) version of events that would be presented in court the following day.

"Unfortunately, however," Micen resumed, "we are beset with difficulties and plagued with obstacles.  The recovery of the valuables, I fear, may be somewhat delayed."

"Please, sir, their recovery is of little consequence to either my family or me.  We are quite pleased now that my brother's murderer has been incarcerated and will be duly punished."

"Of course… of course…  Still, some of the items I'm told are quite irreplaceable, for example one antique jewel box, inlaid with gems and mother of pearl.  Therefore, I will begrudge no expense and leave no stone unturned to effect (achieve) its swift recovery.  Besides which, locating that box may shed some light on some rather haunting puzzles, but I'll refrain from boring you with those now."  Micen, pushing all the right buttons, was deriving a perverse pleasure and some amusement at Latham's expense.

 After letting the other squirm for a brief spell, Micen pretended to change his mind,

 “I’ll let you in on this much, though, as you may know, the box in question was kept on the night table beside Senson's bed.  Am I right?"  Micen paused to receive Latham's nod before continuing.

 "Now, as per affidavit (confession), on the night of Senson's murder, strangely enough, its entire contents were dumped onto the floor.  Senson's steward and chambermaid, both supposedly drugged on the night in question, verified and accounted for all the contents.  Now, why do you suppose the murderer would bother to do that?  To discard them in that way, I mean, especially as these items were of considerable value as well.  Why not just take along the box as is?"

Latham's unexpected reaction, which he failed to completely mask, gave Micen an additional, curious insight.

There had not been enough time for Latham to have been briefed on every detail of Canute's confession, which meant that Latham must have been an eyewitness to the gruesome dismemberment in the aftermath of the murder.  Why had he not then intervened?

Micen scrutinized Latham further.  Was he simply a yellow-bellied coward, who sought to save his own skin, or an unconscionable, cold-hearted opportunist? 

This was not the appropriate time to delve into this investigation, however so, donning (putting on) a solemn smile, Micen changed the subject, "I trust that Senson's funeral arrangements are proceeding swiftly?  If there is anything I can do to assist you in any way, please do not hesitate to ask me.”

“I will come and pay my last respects to him as soon as I've concluded this case tomorrow.  By that time your esteemed brother should be most properly avenged.  On that, sir, you may have my personal assurance."  Micen fell silent and anxiously fingered the pile of documents on his desk.

Latham, taking the hint, stood up and bowed.  "I've already taken far too much of your valuable time, Your Honor." He then thanked Micen most humbly and sincerely.   "I'm afraid our family has put you to too much trouble, sir.  Still, you will not find us ungrateful.  In the days to come we must think of ways of repaying your kindness in full."

His promise delighted Micen.

"You are embarrassing me, sir." The Prefect ejected gleefully as he walked Latham to the door.

 "I am a mere official who is only following procedures and doing his duty.  Why make such a big deal of it?"

 Inwardly, as Micen congratulated himself, he pondered on the identity of the informant in his midst that obviously had such free and easy access to the Lukos. But upon Latham's departure, his discreet investigation and the uncovered facts had completely exonerated his chief suspect, his assistant Mouro.

In truth, Mouro, having anticipated this, had already taken great pains to secure himself a tight alibi while directing all suspicion to likely culprits such as the head bailiff Hecun and the court physician Sullen.

Latham Luko, true to his word, lost no time in sending his agents to dispense generous bribes to all those who had been present in court for Canute's confession. 

                                                                                 ~

During the small hours when everyone was fast asleep, the guards stationed outside of Canute’s cell, having suddenly overcome with unusual fatigue, they had all fallen into deep stupor. In that short span, unbeknownst to all, a strange (bizarre) occurrence took place; the prison cell which had housed Canute, suddenly was infused with vapors and blinding light.  When it passed (cleared up), Canute’s strung up body (still locked in the pillories) had entirely disappeared without a trace.

Next morning at dawn, when Canute's missing body was discovered, Micen, wishing to avoid controversy and likely trouble from superstitious groups, gave the order of secrecy on pain of death; and so, the matter was expediently covered-up (whitewashed, smoke screened). A short time later, Micen in court, briefly announced that prisoner Canute Yonn succumbing to his excessive injuries, had expired during the night  and his corpse had already been promptly disposed (Another condemned, disfigured prisoner’s corpse in place of Canute Yonn's, had been chopped up  and then fed to the wild dogs); subsequently, a different version of Canute’s confession was read out loud, and no one in court cried foul. Earlier still, a pseudo (fake) Canute’s head, badly disfigured and unidentifiable, had been secretly transported to the Luko mansion for apt disposition: According to prescribed ancient customs, the perpetrator’s (culprit Canute’s) skull, once stripped of flesh and scorched by fire, would then be placed beneath Senson's corpse’s feet at his burial ceremony, condemning Canute's spirit to eternal servitude to the deceased Luko clansman.

As it were, even though Senson's murder case had generated much public interest, only a fraction of the previous crowd of spectators had filed into the courtroom on the day of sentencing.  Many of the curious onlookers were, understandably, scared off by their memory of the grizzly-red-haired Devil.

05- GRIZZLY RED-HAIRED IMMORTAL

 When the prisoners, Yenis Luko and Fradel Rurik Korvald were next brought in court, the sorry state of the woman created quite a stir and a shock among few that were in attendance.  Disappointedly, Fradel Rurik Korvald, however, looked none the worse for his ordeal.

The presiding prefect Micen Do in his splendid attire, feigned confidence (boldness), despite the fact he had tripled his posting of guards, as he proceeded through the preliminaries and moved to the judgment and sentencing.

Yenis Luko was sentenced to be decapitated (guillotined), the execution to be carried out at noon on the same day on the public execution grounds in the center of the city.  Upon hearing this she shrieked and passed out cold.  She too, was then dragged out by two bailiffs and put into the cell for the condemned to await (wait for) the appointed hour of her doom.

At this point a second squad of bailiffs entered the courtroom and took up positions with the first.  The prisoner Fradel Rurik Korvald was brought in before the bench for sentencing.  Micen spoke slowly, aware of the crowd in the room holding its breath and straining to hear every word.

"Prisoner Fradel Rurik Korvald, by the judgment of this Court, you are found to be not guilty of the charges of murder, mutilation and robbery of the Honorable Esquire Senson Luko.  You are therefore absolved of all charges and no punishment will be laid against you."

The crowd groaned and gritted their teeth in contempt, they had been hoping for additional execution that afternoon.

"The court will now consider the charge of trespassing on the restricted grounds of Kuno Temple in violation of Imperial Edict."

Suddenly all ears perked up and a dead silence prevailed.

"Despite your ingenious defense, and your plea for leniency, the law is most explicit in its stipulation that no exceptions, regardless of circumstance, be made.  In accordance with that law, I judge you, the defendant, guilty as charged and sentence you to death, also to be carried out by beheading."

The crowd breathed a sigh of relief, anticipating their entertainment, only to be disappointed once more.

"Due to the consideration of you special circumstance, I hereby set the place of execution as the Capital city, Channing, and the date of execution to be a day after the completion of the services due his Imperial Highness, Zakhertan  Yozdek.  The exact time and date are to be determined by the Board of Punishment in that city.  You, of course, are free to appeal your case to the Board before that time, and also to seek an Imperial Pardon from His Highness.  Commencing at daybreak tomorrow, you will be transported with armed escort to Channing in an enclosed and locked prisoner's cage.”

“You will be let out of the cage for a brief physical examination upon your successful transfer to the authority of Magistrate Rue of Cheabirger Prefecture in Tenzo Province and not before then."

06- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC)

 As he was being led away by four bailiffs, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) reflected gravely on how he could make good his escape from this impasse.

The impressed spectators remained in awe of Micen's courage.  After nervously glancing about, they converged outside in groups to mechanically nod their heads and exchange similar views in whispers.

"See, His Honor cannot be intimidated!"

"Micen Do is really a firm judge."

"He's to be commended for his courage."

"He upholds the law to the letter, without exception."

"To be transported all that way in that fashion is as good as being condemned to death, the prisoner will never survive the ordeal."

"As sure as my nose is on my face, Fradel Rurik Korvald will never reach the Capital alive to appeal his case."

"I tell you; I wouldn't be so bold or as brave as His Honor.  Not with that threat hanging over my head."

"Nor would I!"

"Nor I!"

One after another, they all concurred then left to get some lunch before making their way to the public execution grounds.

Though the proceedings had created an excessive backlog of cases, which would normally force the Prefect to convene court twice daily, Micen Do deferred all the pending hearings to a later day and, with a stack of documents tucked under his arm and a heavy guard at his side, left the building shortly before noon.

Now of course few had harbored the curious enigma (conundrum) in mind and had queried inwardly of what had really happened to Canute Yonn. This dilemma, however, would never be resolved for years to come.

 But Canute Yonn had in fact was rescued by a non-other than, invincible warrior called Zonar.

07- ZONAR KUNTZU

At prior time, whilst the apprehended Canute Yonn burdened with cangue and chains, awaited in the hallway for his turn in court, to be taken before Micen Do, Zonar, detecting Canute’s unusual aura and so, fleetingly manifesting there, had only askance (sideways), given Canute a cursory look. But in that instance, Zonar’s keen senses (radar, insight, mental probe) having promptly penetrated Canute’s mind and the depths of his soul, he’d promptly learned all he needed to know about this steadfast young man. Canute’s entire life history (his tragic, past ordeals) then an open book, and furthermore, what his portended future was, this intrigued same time had infuriated, Zonar. After that, Zonar could not idly stand by and let this remarkable young man be subjected to extreme torture till he perished at the hands of such despicable villains.  So yes, Zonar had paid Canute a visit, on that last night of his incarceration, before the day of execution.  And true enough, if he had not, Canute would have expired from his severe wounds that very night.

In that blinding flash of light and vapors, manifesting for a spell, he had freed Canute Yonn from his chains and then instantly transported (whisked, zipped) him to a, far away place, a densely forested hilltop, in a remote northern region of Wenjenkun, bordering Korion. There, Zonar invoked one of his invocations (spells) and instantly restored Canute Yonn, to his former physical and mental health.  Canute coming to, was shocked to see Zonar before him, however, quickly overcoming his shock and fear, grasping what must have happened, he'd fallen on his knees and humbly thanked his benefactor for saving him. Zonar, after simply nodding, snapped his fingers and the two were instantly transported to a deep cavern in the mountainous region of Korion.  Having recognized the great potential of Canute Yonn, Zonar, scribbled an undecipherable (obscure, cryptic), message on a just then produced peace of parchment, sealed it up in a bamboo tube.  Zonar entrusted this to the care of Canute Yonn, along with his brief verbal instructions. Canute, hence, learned of which path to follow to safely descend the mountain and to reach a remote mountain village, ruled by discerning and honorable clan. This ancient indigenous tribe populated by warrior type hunters and gatherers (herbalists) would welcome him and if he cared to stay there a while, a season or two, he would then learn how to fight, ride and hunt, as well, acquire rare, valuable, lifesaving aptitudes (abilities, pointers) that would serve him well in future years. Canute was then directed (instructed) to, where he should go from thereon, whom to contact to receive arms, employment and place to permanently set up roots. Remembering another detail just then, Zonar reached into his inner pocket and gave Canute Yonn a leather pouch, containing a generous amount of funds, (Korion’s monetary means, monies), for the anticipated, future incurred expenses. Zonar then impatiently, dismissing Canute’s sincere heartfelt gratitude and words of thanks, (for he had to be urgently present elsewhere), he simply nodded and said, “There is no need. As you are destined for greatness, we will meet again one day.” And then, puff, instantly he (Zonar) vanished (disappeared) into thin air, leaving Canute Yonn all alone in that enormous cave.

                                                                           ~

(END OF SECTION 29)