INTREPID HAGEN RESCUES THE RAVEN PRINCE ARATHORN

 (BOST ORIGINAL STORY 2025)

There was once a handsome, brave, strapping young man named Hagen, of about nineteen years of age, with long blond hair and brilliant blue eyes like the sky on a clear day. He knew how to read and write, as his retired scholar father had taken pains to educate him at home; meanwhile, his mother the healer, had passed on to him her knowledge about the traditional herbal medicines. Hagen always had a wild imagination and since childhood he’d read copious (abundant, profuse) fantasy books; he was additionally interested in anything pertaining to supernatural and rather enjoyed dabbling in old sorts of magic.

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Hagen unfortunately lost his parents to fever about four years ago and since he had no other relatives, he continued to live alone in the wooden cabin, halfway down the mountain that had its summit permanently shrouded in snow and ice. Hagen was a resourceful young man who made a pretty good living by hunting and foraging in the woods for rare medicinal herbs and roots, then selling these pelts (furs) and the dried herbs at the nearby town.  

It so happened that one ordinary day at dusk a traveller cloaked in black, just happened to be passing through the mountain; fortuitously, his path crossed Hagen’s, who’d spent the day collecting specific herbs and rare medicinal roots, which filled the bucket on his back to the brim.

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The traveller who’d introduced himself as Adelram (meaning, dark and noble), professed that he was actually a spiritualist (choosing not to say a sorcerer) on his way to the Ingolf Temple; unfortunately, he’d temporarily lost his way. Ingolf Temple was a place of great interest to Hagen as he’d once heard his father mention it to his mother, with great reverence. When Hagen later inquired about it, suspecting that his father might have once been a member of that sect or something else, his father had drawn a long face, then in a stern voice he’d vehemently denied knowing anything about it, and furthermore, irritably had admonished (rebuked) his son to never mention that name Ingolf, ever again. Hagen could not let it go however, and after pestering his mother, she’d secretly imparted to him the only fact she knew, that this was a secret sect that was very exclusive, and its location was quite mysterious. Now chancing on this spiritualist who was on his way to that very temple, well, Hagen could not simply let him go; not without extracting further information from him.

What Hagen did not know however, was that the sorcerer had been actively searching for Hagen’s father, for no one had ever belong to that sect and got to leave it, the way Hagen’s father had done. As it had just then begun to rain, and from the look of things, the rising wind herding the flotilla of clouds in the sky, the downpours would be upon them soon, Adelram, before they were drenched, readily accepted the invitation to spend the night in a warm dry place. Along the way Adelram had truthfully confessed to Hagen that his bones were quite weary from his lengthy travels anyway, and that his stomach gnawed as he’d forgotten to eat past two days. He would resume his journey the subsequent day, or when the rain had let up, with renewed vigour after a good night’s rest. What could be better than that?

Once at the wood cabin however, Adelram had learned that both Hagen’s parents had passed away; negating the need to fulfill his secret assignment. Meanwhile, Hagen’s blissful ignorance about his father’s past, had saved his life.  

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After repast, the two comfortably seated by the hearth (fireplace) they had sincerely conversed delving into many topics, and in a very short time, Adelram become quite fond of the youth; furthermore, he was impressed with Hagen’s brilliance of mind and good heart.

Adelram at one point, as a matter-of-factly, feigning mild interest, asked to see Hagen’s right palm, and readily been given access to it, he studied the lines for a long while, secretly reading much more, as he was also a seir (diviner, clairvoyant, psychic). Subsequently, he knitted his brows, and then pinning (burrowing) his eyes into Hagen’s, he studied the boy’s subconscious mind.  In the end, Adelram, knowing what he knew, swiftly decided to impart some of his knowledge of the (sacred scrolls) mystic arts to this trusting, likeable youth, Hagen; therefore, providing him with slant chance to overcome future catastrophe, and perhaps even save his life. The outcome and how he fared (managed) the danger, however, would still depend on Hagen’s future competence (aptitude, skill).

Adelram had stayed with Hagen for several more days during which time he’d imparted on (taught him) Hagen, a good measure of the arts, with the result that the young man became an expert (proficient) in most spells and charms. As Hagen continued to show such promise Adelram, before his intended departure, took Hagen aside and showed him an incantation (spell) that he'd carefully written down during the night on a parchment, while Hagen had blissfully slept. It dealt with the exorcism of specific type, supremely powerful demon-spirit and told Hagen to set it aside for now, till one day, when in dire straits, he might make good use of it. Adelram then holding out the second parchment, said, “My dear boy, here's several more effective spells (hexes) which I’ve written down for your eyes only; these incantations will exorcise (banish, eliminate) most evil spirits; guard it well, and it will always provide you with a good source of income. You’ll never lack for dosh (cash, bread) and in time it may even provide you with a beautiful wife.”

Hagen gratefully accepted the gift.

Time passed and as Hagen practiced the mystic arts, word of his competence spread and as he’d prospered, he took up residence in the nearby small village. He conducted his business of mysticism, divinations, exorcisms and dispensed herbal remedies, from his current modest dwelling at the edge of the village. As he became renown far and wide, Hagen’s gate was thronged with folk bearing many gits to solicit his help.

04- SEDIT

Then one day a haughty (arrogant) merchant (who had prospered from selling arms and quality farm equipment) named Sedit, called on Hagen and in private consultation told Hagen that he was terribly worried about his precious younger daughter Botilda, worst still, he feared his daughter’s life might be in dire peril from an evil spirit or a ghost. He offered Hagen rich rewards if he would go and see her.  Hearing that it was a case of life and death, Hagen consented to help and, forgoing any pre-payment for his trouble, set out immediately with Sedit to reach his residence. They travelled for several days, for the place was quite far. Eventually one late afternoon they arrived at this remote locale and presently came to Sedit’s house perched on a hilltop, which proved to be a magnificent mansion, built like a fortress. Entering it, Hagen was conducted to where Botilda was sleeping behind a gauze curtain; and when her maids hung up the curtain, he saw that though she was barely sixteen, her features were ravaged as if by a very long illness.

As Hagen drew closer to examine her, the girl suddenly opened her eyes and smiled.

“Here comes a good physician!” Botilda said in a hushed voice.

The whole family was delighted, for up till then, she had remained as if in a coma, not uttering a single sound, for several days.

After his brief examination, Hagen left the girl’s chamber and went to the study where Sedit was, to acquire more specifics about her prior symptoms; consequently, Hagen learned from Sedit, that in broad daylight servants had observed, more than once, a young man going into Botilda’s bed. At each attempt to catch him however, the young man had vanished, only to reappear soon after. Sedit therefore had deduced (assumed) that he must be an avenging evil spirit or a ghost.

“If he is a ghost,” remarked Hagen, “I can easily rid you of him. But if he is a powerful demon, I shall be powerless to help.” 

“No, of that I’m certain, he is not!” exclaimed Sedit with a wry smile. Sedit had then grumbled something under his breath, then added in hushed voice, “He wouldn’t dare trespass on my …!” Then staying his tongue, he’d furtively looked to ascertain Hagen had not caught (heard) the careless lingo (speech, utterance, mumble).

Having dispensed written charms to some of the attending servants, those around the patient, Hagen retired for the night, though sleep averted him. At stroke of midnight, a well-dressed young man entered his room, and Hagen, taking him to be some relative of the host, rose from his couch and ask to learn the stranger’s name.

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“I am the Raven Prince Arathorn, my physical form, spellbound by the silver chains, is held captive (imprisoned) in the very dungeon below,” was the disconsolate (melancholy, sad) reply. “Do not underestimate that villain Sedit, he is in truth, a powerful panther demon. His supposed wife Ellisif and her daughters Botilda and Freya, are his human captives. Sedit, five years ago brutally murdered her husband and took her for himself. But he had, same time also, kidnapped her two young girls …. Let’s just say he has sinister plans for them both when they become full adult.  Before my capture, I, with my youthful exuberance, wanting to see the world, had left the safe heaven of my father’s kingdom, in search of adventure. Passing through this region, I happened to see, Botilda, the young lady you’ve been asked to cure (restore to health), carefree and gathering wildflowers at the edge of the forest and felt instantly drawn to her; nevertheless, I flew on by.” Arathorn, dropping his head, fell silent for a moment, recalling in his mind’s eye, the delightfully captivating, serene scene back then, a time which seemed a lifetime ago.

06- RAVEN PRINCE ARATHORN - CHAIND IN THE DUNGEON

He cleared his throat and then resumed his say, “But then, since I could not get her out of my mind, I flew back sometime later, to glimpse her one more time.  I came upon the horrific scene. I fought him but he was too powerful and in the and, I too was taken captive by this loathsome (immoral, vicious), malignant demon. Because I have taken fancy to Botilda, I managed to release my spirit from my body, and aptly disguised, through telepathic (telekinetic) projections, akin now, from time to time, I confess that I had visited her, though chiefly to console her and try to give her hope, scant hope that there was, till you happened to come along.”  

07- BOTILDA IN CAREFREE TIMES

Arathorn allowed Hagen to see him as he truly was, bound by chains in the dungeon; before shifting back to less dramatic (pitiable) form. Arathorn pensively bit the corner of his lip and shook his head; thenceforth, he in serious tone, cautioned Hagen: “Do not let your guard down, not for a second; he has sought you out for some malevolent motive. You are a pray, not his salvation. I approached you with this warning, because I can sense that you are a decent mortal being. And perhaps we can find some apt resolution to this dilemma; possibly we can in some way help each other, as you are true of heart and for this reason, I decided to trust you.  I shall also relay to you that Botilda’s elder sister Freya, who shall be eighteen years old in seven day’s time, is even more beautiful than my beloved. But I assure you, I only have eyes for Botilda; and, till present our relationship has only been platonic, I have not done anything improper, and I am not certainly responsible for her ailment. While I have respected and even guarded their virtue, there is a mysterious force that is perpetuated by Sedit, poised to, in not to distant future, inflict harm on them both.  Temporarily, doing my best to protect them, I deliberately caused mayhem and fright to deter his dastardly aim. But my vitality is waning (diminishing) and the bluff will only work so far; I cannot shapeshift, I cannot use my innate powers, I am rendered utterly helpless and at his mercy. But I care not for my welfare; my chief worries are of the innocent two; what will become of them when I’m gone? Who will save them then?”

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Hagen’s face as he’d listened, had revealed no emotion at all, though inwardly he’d seethed in fury. His heart was beset with dismay by all these shocking revelations and his righteous sense demanded for him to at once lash out at Sedit, to attack and destroy this demon.  He wanted nothing better than to rescue the innocent captives, to release the raven prince, only, he did not know how to go about it.

As if reading (anticipating) what was on his mind, Prince Arathorn suddenly said, “We need a good plan, an apt strategy before we go up against him; and conceivably, a powerful incantation, one that would paralyse (incapacitate) him, if not, rob him of his powers, long enough to enable us to terminate him. But I know no such spell; do you?”

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Suddenly, the very incantation Adelram had gifted to him, came to Hagen’s mind and, after an elated chortle (snigger), he happily exclaimed: “Yes, indeed; I happened to have the very thing!” After that, he briefly told Raven Prince Arathorn about Adelram and his imparted secret incantation, Hagen was certain it would be the key (fundamental armament) solution.

Subsequently, both Hagen and Arathorn wracked their brains till they devised a concrete plan; mindful that they would only get this one chance to best the demon. They needed the help of one other willing participant, however, one the demon would not suspect and preferably the very one the demon would overlook. There was only one person, that it could be…

Next day before noon, Hagen approached Sedit and told him that after the night’s deliberation, he’d arrived at a probable solution; but then he hesitated (stalled), and after exhaling a deep breath, he stated that he would do this on one condition however, as he would face certain peril, in leu of payment for his services, he wished  that Sedit would consent to wed him to his elder daughter Freya.

Sedit looked as though he would explode, but he quickly swallowed his rage, and forcing a smile to his lips, a smile that never reached his cold eyes, he tautly ejected, I’ll need some time to consider this. Then as if in afterthought, he nodded in agreement, “Never mind; I agree.”

Weary of deception and fearing Sedit might recant the nuptial agreement once Botilda was entirely cured (and supposedly safe), Hagen asked for an added assurance from Sedit’s wife Ellisif who happened to just then came out from the inner chambers. Ellisif, having heard of their accord, and hope springing in her heart, she’d advanced towards Hagen to greet him and state also her ready pledge.

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“These suspicions are quite unworthy of you, sir!” Ellisif, nevertheless, criticized Hagen, trying not to appear too eager. My husband’s word is law in this household, however, since you ask for guarantee, would this suffice?” Ellisif then, with pretend indignation, (handed over) gave him Freya’s gold hairpin. As Hagen received the hairpin, he discretely that same moment had slipped into her pocket a written note. She’d sensed this and after her furtive look at her husband, convinced he’d not noticed this breach, Ellisif then sharply looked at Hagen, to silently berate him for his audacity, for such dangerous and improper conduct, but seeing the urgent warning in Hagen’s eyes, an understanding dawning on her, she shut her mouth and said nothing more.

Subsequently, Hagen had spent most of the day making certain preparations. Shortly after dusk, he then summoned the whole household and chanted incantations to exorcise the ghost. Hagen burned some sage and did some smudging, which was a typical purifying ritual. After re-examining the sick girl Botilda, he asked for water to sprinkle on the curtain.

11-FREYA

To his utter delight it was the elder sister who swiftly brought him a bowl, stealing glances at him as she came and went. Hagen felt captivated by her grace and beauty but pretended not to notice her. Meanwhile, Botilda had for some reason, a relapse, and now was moaning in her bed, but when he mumbled his incantations and then sprinkled holy water over her, this after he’d given her an herbal potion (chiefly to sooth her nerves but same time keep her alert and awake), she appeared subdued, and possibly cured. Hagen then left her side. She did not lose any consciousness and thereafter, had no episodes or irregularities during the rest of that night.

12-ELLISIF (1)

The Raven Prince Arathorn, also as per agreed, did not manifest in Botilda’s chamber at all.

All seemingly was quiet that afternoon; moreover, because of the spell Hagen had secretly invoked, it had deterred the evil spirit, from possible trespass and rehash her ailment. The job seemingly concluded, Hagen now prepared to take his leave, but Sedit pressed him to stay for the night and would not take no for an answer. He was promptly served a sumptuous feast at repast; Ellisif and Sedit entertained Hagen as a most honoured guest, his host remaining with him till he retired to his room for forty winks (sleep). Just as Hagen laid down to slumber (nap, sleep), he heard an impatient knocking at the door and arose to find Freya there. She furtively looked about then darted in.

13-FREYA

“My stepfather will propose that you stay on two additional nights, and he’ll tell you that the day after tomorrow, on the third night, we will be wed in private ceremony; but he has no intention of letting me to ever marry you; he is plotting instead, to murder you tomorrow night!”    She gasped. “You must flee to safety… Please, leave under some pretext at dawn tomorrow, I can’t bear to see you perish, fly for your life!” This said in an urgent voice and turning around, she was gone. But Hagen had no intention of fleeing.

Following morning Sedit looking terribly annoyed and grim, without knocking simply barged into Hagen’s room and in furious tone informed Hagen of the sudden relapse in his daughter’s condition at dawn and hence, demanded he examine her again. Hagen suspected a cover-up for Sedit’s failed, flustered, dubious, evil attempts. Prior, having anticipated this turn, (possibly of Sedit’s), Hagen had covertly put in place, potent, strips with protection incantations. It must have worked; however, this could not be repeated, for it was only a temporary solution.  He needed to return to his home immediately and study the parchment Adelram had gifted him. He would then return, armed with the knowledge, to initiate the rest of the carefully devised plan.

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When Sedit had to leave midmorning that day, to oversee some business matter in town, and stated that he would be back before dusk, this gave Hagen the single chance, and borrowing one of their horses from the stables, on some pretext he left the mansion.

He galloped the steed all the way and returning home in haste, he quickly fetched the parchment. He read the incantation, committed it to memory, fetched the necessary herbal concoction, fortunately for him already in liquid form, in a blue small bottle, this secured in his inner pocket, he then once more mounting the steed, galloped back, mount and rider drenched in perspiration, to arrive in nick of time at Sedit’s mansion. He was back late afternoon, just before Sedit’s posh carriage had pulled to a stop at the (well guarded) iron gates.

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At repast that night, goblet filled with his choice wine, Sedit, commanding attention, made a toast to Hagen specifically, for completely curing Botilda, and then again for his upcoming nuptial to Freya. What he did not know however, was that the wine had been infused with the specific incantation laced concoction. As Sedit drunk to his black heart’s content, smiling with sinister glee, his thoughts engaged with enumerating his secret vile plan that late night, he did not pay too much attention, that just then his true form was revealed to all, though only for a spell; and, if anyone had blinked, they would have missed it.

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Then the transformation began: Sedit’s blazing eyes dimmed, gradually his senses had dulled and his physique on cellular level shifted; bit by bit (increasingly), without him knowing it, he had lost his omnipotent power to then slowly become just a mere mortal being. When the realization had set in, he had only mere seconds to reverse the damage, to alter the lasting effects. This was the most crucial moment, the only window of opportunity, when he was utterly vulnerable as a living, breathing mortal being. There had been a vague reference to this in the parchment; but even Adelram could not be certain of it. Hagen had, nevertheless, factored this variance into the plan, deciding to chance it.  At that critical juncture, Sedit’s timid (brow-beaten) wife Ellisif, who had suffered so terribly at his hand all these years, still bereft (mourning, grieving) of her beloved husband’s murder, and now Sedit was still planning far worse for her beloved children, well, something had snapped in her.

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Ellisif suddenly had stood up, turned, and akin a tigress she plunged the long dagger’s blade (a stiletto) straight into Sedit’s transformed (altered) completely human heart. Even though the warm red blood (not black blood)  rapidly spread, soaking his tunic in crimson, he still overcoming this shock, had enough predatory vigour (strength) in him that, before anyone could intercede (put a stop to it), his hand had precipitously reached out and fiercely grabbing Ellisif by the keck, crushed the bone. In a blink of an eye, both Sedit and Ellisif had expired instantaneously, (toppling) collapsing lifeless, on the floor. The malevolent devil had met his end, but unfortunately, he’d managed to claim one more innocent victim, even at the very end.

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Now the moment the Devil had expired, so had ceased (stopped) the spell that had bound the Raven Prince in chains (manacles, cuffs, fetters).  Arathorn’s power suddenly restored, he ripped the shackles (restraints) as if they were paper; once freed, his fists next smashed open the locked iron doors and he hastened (bolted) up the stairs.

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                                                                             ~

Long after the funeral of Ellisif and the proper mourning period, the two surviving daughters in a simple ceremony had joyfully married to their beloveds. As life goes on, eventually two sisters parted company, and each at different milieu (locale, background, environment) resumed rest of their fulfilling existence.

Raven Prince Arathorn flew, with his human wife Botilda held tight in his arms, and returning home in no time at all, as he was the sole heir (successor), reclaim his rightful place in that kingdom.

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Botilda lived happily with the then crowned king, as his queen in this surreal, most fantastic world; soon after, they were blessed with two healthy boys and lived contentedly to ripe old age.

Hagen also lived blissfully for many years with Freya, overcoming many challenges and then passing on their knowledge to three beautiful children when they grew up, two boys and one girl. Hagen and Freya’s love never diminished throughout their ordeals in the mortal realm, not even when they were old, feeble and their hair turned completely white, as they were always surrounded by caring friends, good neighbours, and the incessant (continuous) joy and laughter of children and many grandchildren (permeating the air).

 

The End

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 28

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 28

03- CANUTE (in his teens)

Crying had offered no solace to Canute, and when the stark reality of his mother’s demise fully sunk in, all reason and sense had abandoned him. 

His rant (angry outbursts) and hysterical screams next, had brought the whole household to his mother's door.  Customers and servants clambered over one another as they pounded fiercely on both doors, demanding they be let in at once.

 But Canute, in a state of shock had remained quite inert, oblivious to the mayhem outside.  His body was completely benumbed as if he was pinned, crushed under the oppressive weight of an enormous boulder the size of a mountain.  His limbs (arms), as if severed from the mind's control, hung listlessly on either side of him, pulled down by a burdensome weight.  His face ashen, Canute stared with voided thoughts at his mother through the curtain of tragic, bittersweet tears that still streamed down his cheeks and chin to dampen his shirt.

Finally, one of the doors was brought down with a great crushing sound and both Ron and Tike burst in neck and neck.  A small crowd of curious seekers, too apprehensive to cross a sick woman's threshold, craned their necks to cautiously peer in.  Flushed faces became pale and grim as they exchanged meaningful looks and, inclined their heads together in groups, whispered hushed words among themselves, exchanged information and disclaimers of her rumored illness, while pointing the discrete finger of accusation at Tike and Ron.

Tike had gone straight for Helga and began ranting over the spoilt bedding and the trouble that had been incurred, while Ron Kuri had savagely grabbed hold of Canute by the collar of his shirt (at back of the neck), lifted him up high in air, and burrowed his threatening, venomous glare into Canute. When Canute defiantly stuck his tongue out at him, Ron foaming in the mouth, cursed and reviled Canute then spat at Canute’s face. Growling, he demanded snap (instant, quick) answers to his barrage of unremitting (relentless) questions:

"Why didn't you open the door… wretch?  How the hell did you get out?  Who was it that let you out?  Cat got your tongue; answer me, damn you!”

Canute’s scathing (scornful), defiant glare and snarl on his lips, however, earned him Ron’s seething ire.  “Why aren’t you afraid? I can crush you like a bug. I’ll snuff the very life out of you, you brazen, cursed worm!"

Canute’s stubborn nature would never allow him to admit defeat; his perpetual, derisive grin, therefore, further antagonized the already furious Ron, as murder registered in his pupils (eyes): "You dare so brazenly, challenge me?" Ron barked, as he violently shook Canute as if he was a ragdoll; he then slapped Canute real hard, not once but twice, right across the face.

Canute’s cheeks smarted (burnt, stung) really bad, but he desisted shedding any tears; meanwhile, the foul, sweaty stench of an unwashed male had assailed Canute's senses, overpowering the lingering scent of his mother's sweet perfume.  Blood trickled (oozed), from his nostrils and from the corners of his swollen lips, onto his torn shirt in streaks of pale crimson.  Although the physical pain inflicted by Ron Kuri tested Canute’s endurance it was dwarfed in comparison to the anguish he felt deep in his heart and so, not a sound, not even the slightest whimper escaped Canute's lips. 

In truth, Canute was now beyond caring, he did not feel or hear any of the heaped-on abuse; thus, highly incensed Ron was robbed of the perverse satisfaction he sought to gain.  Another fierce strike (hit) just then pummeled the side of Canute's head and sent him flying clear across the room to slam his head hard against the door post; consequently, Canute lost his orientation (balance, senses), all about him turned blurry and began to spin.

"You are no good shit!  What did you do that for?" Tike's voice shrieked.  "What if you've killed him?"

"What about it?  Who cares?  Who would miss the wretch, anyway?" came Ron's cold retort.  "Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say!  Let the bastard die and join his mother in hell.  It’s no skin off of my nose."

"No skin off of your nose?  No skin off your nose?" Tike ground her teeth.  "You're going to land me in serious trouble, that's what!  How can I sell him to the Wang family in the condition he's in now?  Didn't I tell you to curb your temper?  You've cost me more money than the skin of your nose is worth!"

As Canute's throat filled up with blood the voices drifted into the distance, echoing meaninglessly garble in his head.  He felt his body grow icy cold, he was tumbling, falling into a deep, dark abyss from incredible, towering heights.

                                                                                      ~

"I warned you not to hit him so hard!  What if he expires before the pertinent details of the crime and the whereabouts of the loot can be extracted from him?  All we have so far is the motive for his crimes." Micen Do, seething (livid), furiously chastised (reprimanded) Mouro.

"Begging your pardon, Your Honor," the Court physician's somber voice just then interjected,

 "I'm now ready to report my diagnosis."

“Permission granted.”  Receiving the signal from Micen, physician Sullen came forward and knelt on one knee to make his report.

 "Despite the gravity of his injuries, the accused possesses a well-developed physique.  In a while he should recover his senses sufficiently to be responsive to further questioning."

"A while..." Micen exploded.  “Am I surrounded by nincompoops, total incompetents?  I demand you revive him now…Immediately!"

"I've done all that's medically possible, Your Honor," Sullen protested, trembling, "but I'm afraid that the last blow to the left temple was so serious that it left the prisoner Canute Yonn in a very critical state. To bring him around prematurely could put him in peril and leave him in an irreversible vegetative state or worse, endanger his life (bring about his death).  We must wait for the treatment I've administered, for it to gradually take effect."

"Nonsense…!”  His life (already a forfeit,) is of no consequence anymore.  Are you ..."

"Please allow me to atone for my mistake, Your Honor." Mouro hastily intervened, stepping forward and falling to one knee.  "If you permit me, sir, I'll bring him around now."

"You... You'll be made to answer for your mistake later!"  Grumbling, Micen shook his head and motioned to the Head Bailiff, Hecun.  "You, bailiff, bring him around."

Hecun rushed at once to comply as Mouro and the physician both quietly stepped aside.  Kneeling, he grabbed Canute by the shoulders and shook him fiercely, shouting, "Snap out of it!  You hear me, snap out of it!  You are in the presence of the Honorable Prefect Micen Do.  Stop this charade, this nonsense at once or you'll only suffer the worst for it!"

When this and other such threats proved ineffective, Hecun, under the watchful eyes of the Prefect, resorted to a controlled battering of the prisoner.  As Micen impatiently drummed his fingers on the table, the flustered Hecun grabbed Canute by the hair and slapped him with his free hand until his hand hurt.

"What did you do that for?" Micen interposed, freezing Hecun's hand in mid blow.

He had become rather apprehensive about Canute's condition.  "What if you've killed him?"

"Don't touch her!  Let go of her!  Mama!  Mama!  I'll kill you!  I'll kill you all!"

"Have you gone completely mad?"  Hecun went back to shaking Canute by the shoulders.  "Snap out of it!  You're in court."

A sharp pain suddenly brought Canute back to life.  Utilizing (using) his innate skill, in a split-second, overpowering (disabling) Hecun, he’d pressed his bloodied iron shackles against Hecun's throat.  In this desperate scuffle the bailiff, despite his robustness, had fared the worst.  Presently locked in the extraordinary (weird, odd) iron's grip, he was prohibited from using his full strength to neither free himself, nor subdue the prisoner.

Fortunately, Canute abruptly came to his senses, sprang back and promptly released Hecun.

"Get him up!  He seems to have regained his senses." Micen intervened.

 Two other bailiffs rushed over at once to raise Canute to his feet.

 Hecun's parting kick was frozen in mid-stream (halfway through) by Micen’s bark, "Let him be, I say!"

Staggering, Canute's bewildered gaze moved from the Head Bailiff Hecun still panting with rage, to the Prefect Micen Do, to Mouro, to the physician Sullen, and then to the two constraining (in part supporting) him by the arms.  Having suffered a serious memory lapse, his crazed eyes, inexplicably next stared at his shackled hands and feet, drenched in his own blood.

Canute’s focus once more became vacant (empty) and all voices (sounds) melted away as his tortured wits (mindset, brain) wandered back to another reality, to his mother, to his childhood.                                                                                    

The wicked past (events) cruelly now paraded before his mind's eye and triggered involuntary shudder as he anew experienced fresh anguish of all those tormented years of enslavement in the hands of the Wang family. 

He’d endured unspeakable degradation (humiliation/indignity), physical pain and malice until, finally, on his thirteenth try; he'd successfully escaped to freedom and to safety.

He grimaced coldly in satisfaction when he recalled how, in the small hours of the night, just prior to leaving the city he had snuck back into the cellar of the cursed brothel by way of a secret tunnel he'd found earlier.

Careful not to be seen, he’d forced the lock and gained entry into his mother's former room, which had remained empty for seven years to rid it of her ghost; then, exerting some effort he’d recovered the paltry sum she'd hidden under the floorboards.

 First, he’d made sure both Tike and Ron were in their cursed residence then, returning to the basement, he’d arranged all sorts of flammable material in strategic corners of the basement, dosed (soaked) them with lamp oil and then, at a safe distance, using a flaming arrow, he had torched the entire establishment.

 By the time the fire was noticed by the occupants, his other carefully arranged tinder had ignited all the exit doors.  The billowing smoke and searing flames shot into the Heavens, engulfing the whole building and turning it into a death trap.

Despite the danger, Canute had fearlessly stayed at the scene until he'd got solid confirmation of Tike and Ron's demise. He’d felt entirely justified for this revenge as the two culprits had grievously wronged his mother even after her death.  To save themselves paltry burial expenses and future trouble, they had secretly and unceremoniously dumped her ashes into the cold, fast flow of the Sue River.

When Canute left the city, the raging fire had already consumed an entire block before it was finally brought under control.  His heart was so hardened (by all those years of abuse) that he'd felt absolutely no remorse for the devastating destruction and the unavoidable, lost lives. 

Ensuing years though at times the obstacles lying in his path seemed insurmountable, Canute stoically persevering had carried a clear aim in his heart, to advance methodically towards that other act of retribution.

In his later teen years, fortuitously Canute had chanced on a disillusioned ex-official named Brier, a key member of a powerful gang that had been terrorizing the adjacent countryside. Brier, much impressed by Canute’s resilience and outstanding physique, took him under his wing.  The ensuing years under Brier’s protection and guidance had been the most contented one for Canute; moreover, when the gang eventually dissolved, the skills, cash and wide range of experience, had enabled Canute to move to Denor City and establish himself as an affluent citizen, laying the foundations for his ultimate revenge.

04- CANUTE YONN

                                                                                             ~                                                                                      

"Why is he not responding?  I think he's shamming (faking) it!  I'll teach him to make a mockery of my court.  You, there!  Apply the hot iron to his chest, and then we'll see if he won't come around."

"Please, you’re Honor, the state he’s in, any further torture would kill him (finish him of)." Sullen hastily intervened, then fell to his knees to beg forgiveness for his outburst.

"Well, just touch it to his upper arm then.  That may even stop some bleeding." Micen donning a wry smile rescinded his order.

Canute's anguished cry as he was branded with the red-hot iron pierced the suspenseful air of the courtroom, curdling the blood of even a few of those eavesdroppers outside.

But mercy was sadly lacking in this court and in this Prefecture.  Many more just sneered, gloated and nodded their heads in approval as they silently congratulated the Prefect when the deliberate cruelty produced the desired result.  The conscious Canute, with his full faculties restored, was then promptly interrogated.

Briefly, though painfully, Canute Yonn recounted the obstacles and the rather odd circumstances that had led him to join the powerful gang of brigands that had terrorized the surrounding countryside for many years.  He was then grilled at length about this notorious gang and its final demise.

Micen, of course, was familiar with the case and approved of the competent, though extremely cruel measures taken by the former (previous) Magistrate Knon Zhour to bring the situation under control.  What he had been ignorant of, and now found to be of great interest, was the internal strife that had existed at the time within the gang itself.  As Canute now told it, it appeared that this infighting had, in fact, been the chief reason for the gang's demise, since those who had known of the Magistrate's planned ambush had chosen to flee rather than warn the unpopular Chief.

"I and the other fortunate few who had escaped the catastrophe immediately retrieved our shares of the collective booty from the secret reserve.  Under the assumed name and the guise of a gentleman I returned to Denor City to fulfill my life's ambition. “

05- CANUTE  YONN

“When I from a distance spotted Senson Luko, the flames of vengeance anew seared my heart. After few setbacks, I set to work on devising a perfect plan.”

 “First, I had tried to cultivate Hacket's friendship, but that overbearing lout just used me.  Then by chance I encountered Yenis and altered my tactic.  My conquest of her came rather easier than I'd anticipated, for not only did she have no moral character, but she also hated her circumstances and sought to escape it.  She was withering away from being subjected to the constant ravages of her cruel, calculating and possessive husband.”

“That place was built and secured like a fortress, and, despite all my experience, I needed her help in penetrating the maze of private quarters and reaching my destination.  My long-awaited opportunity for revenge came the night she snuck me into the private inner compound, then to the bedchamber.”

"The beast had already fallen asleep, and she had to wake him.  Without the least regret, with one swift stroke, I rid the earth of that menace.  I vented my fury on his severed head, spitting in its eyes and grinding his face under my feet.  Then I cut open his chest and ripped his cruel heart from the bloody cavity.  With it still warm in my hand I frantically gazed around for a suitable container until my eyes fell on a carved rosewood box, inlaid with jade and mother of pearls.  After tossing the contents to the floor I placed the organ into it.  Next I severed the finger that wore his precious heirloom ring, and cut a lock of his hair, both of which I placed in the same box."

Micen knit his brows and pursed his lips in an angry frown; he knew just which box it was that Canute referred to.  A few years back he had gone through a lot of trouble and expense to secure that particular 160-year-old box yet had been obliged to present it to Senson Luko after he had expressed such a liking for it in the presence of Commissioner Torrak who, incidentally, was also his cousin.

 "So, what did become of that box?" he interrupted the prisoner to snarl.

"I burned it, along with the contents, at Kuno Temple. The box was painted such that it looked like it was made of metal, but in fact, it was not, it actually was wood made to resemble a metal strongbox."

06- BURNING THE JEWEL ENCRUSTED BOX

Micen cringed.  What a pity!  The shame of it!  He motioned Canute to continue.

"Before leaving the corpse I left in his mouth the token of my mother I'd carried since childhood, an old coin with a hole in it, to remind the Luko family of the grave injustice that had been done to her."

Micen interrupted the prisoner at this point to review the records but, as he suspected, no such coin had been reported, confiscated for evidence, or recorded in any of the reports.  All who were questioned made no reference to such an obvious clue left behind.  This piece of vital evidence could have shed clear light on this case and its absence infuriated Micen.  Was this mere incompetence, or a cover-up?  How deep does corruption, the conspiracy penetrate into the ranks of my Prefecture?  Making a resolution to himself to investigate this thoroughly at a later date, he let the matter pass and directed Canute to resume his confession.

"When I emerged from the room, I found Yenis with her gathered valuables in a bundle, waiting to take flight along with me.  This was a complication I had hoped to avoid.  I tried my best to reason with her, explaining that she should return to her quarters and feign innocence.  I said she would be a hindrance and would seriously hamper my escape if I were to take her along immediately, that it would be in our best interests if I were to fetch her at a later date after things had cooled off a bit.  I made up a tale that I needed more time to secure a suitable home in another city that we could run to.  I even told her that I had some urgent, unfinished businesses elsewhere that needed to be taken care of first.  However I tried to persuade her, she just hung onto my sleeve and would not let go of it.  At the point where I was about to tear it off, she threatened to scream.  At my wit's end, I was forced to comply with her wishes.”

"After taking refuge at Kuno Temple and sacrificing the organs of her tormentor to my mother's spirit that night, I stole away with part of the valuables she had insisted that we take along.  Why not take them?  It was only right that the family be made to pay for it."

 A sudden dizziness overcame him, and Canute paused to steady himself.  "I felt sorry for having misled her, but I knew she would be all right, since I had left her the other horse with the rest of the booty in its harness."

"You are lying bandit!  You're still trying to deceive us.  Why not come clean and admit that you took it all?" Mouro burst out, unable to contain himself.

 "To think that she was devastated by being let down…hah, by the likes of you!"

"Keep your silence!"

"But you know the bastard is lying, Your Honor!" Mouro threw a furious glance at Canute and snarled.

"Who knows just how much of this sob-story of his is fiction?"  He stepped forward,

 "I implore you, Your Honor, not to be beguiled by this deceitful, cunning, dog!"

You dare to openly be insubordinate (question my ability to judge)?  Perhaps you'd like to be the one presiding in this seat? Micen inwardly fumed then checked his temper.

 "It’s up to me to decide on the validity of the testimony, not you."  He shook a threatening finger at Mouro, "I've been tolerant of your shortcomings thus far, but don't assume that you are indispensable.  One more disruptive outburst and I'll have you pilloried!  And that goes for the rest of you as well!"

The appeals of Mouro's supporters froze on their lips as Micen's finger panned by them.  Mouro changed color and dropped to his knees at once to plead for the Prefect's forgiveness and appease him with placating words.

 

(END OF SECTION 28)

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