Showing posts with label scheme. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scheme. Show all posts

Friday, 10 October 2025

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 32

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 32

02- DAG DIEZ
    

At some distance from Hecun’s contingent, Mouro and his two guards, traveling ahead on the major highway, by nightfall had already checked in to a long-established inn and were, indulging themselves in a fine feast and a good measure of the local wine. All during dinner Mouro had been staring at the young waiter, one of the groups that were tending their table.  His exceptional good looks, fine features and delicate mannerisms drew Mouro out to the point of infatuation; discretely at first, but after a flagon or two of wine, Mouro had flirted more openly (uninhibitedly) with the young man.

One of the guards, called Dag Diez, found this rather amusing, joined in the fun but the other, called Kade Luir, having some scruples, found the show most distasteful. Soon as he could, Kade Luir therefore asked to be excused and retired early to his room. After divesting himself from his travel garments, Kade Luir had just slipped under the covers when the other guard Dag Diez staggered in, curses and complaints on his breath.

Ranting and raving incoherently, Dag finally settled down, "That Mouro!  Just because he's in charge, where does he get off!  The gall he has, ordering me around in that manner!  I'll show him!"

 Dag Diez slammed his fist into the door, his face dark with anger.  "He's too much!  I'm not even tired."  He was striding to and for across the room now, rubbing his burning fist.  "Am I less deserving than he?  There's nothing amiable about his...eh?"  Dag sheepishly threw a glance at his companion, who had indifferently shifted and turned his back to him.

"Besides, why should I retire when I haven't even had my fill yet?  All because he wants to indulge himself in perverse pleasure.  Was I crowding him, or something?"  Huffing, he plumped himself into the chair.

After a moment's silence, his mood had changed, "Yeah, he always did like them that way best.  He toys with people’s lives; he likes to play games and moreover, always have be the alfa dog, the domineering one…"

Kade Luir, feigning to sleep with his face to the wall, ground his teeth in anger, or was it jealousy?  He was so incensed with Mouro, and this intoxicated fool that he had to struggle to contain his bursting rage.

"Did you see how annoyed the innkeeper was?  What a sight to see!  That old sourpuss squirmed like a pig back there."  Dag Diez slapped his knee drunkenly and roared.

"But he wouldn't dare openly say a word against it.  He didn’t have the guts!  Even if Mouro hadn't flaunted all that money around, the greedy wimp knows enough to keep his trap shut and his tail tucked between his legs.  He knows enough not to stick his bulbous nose into trouble.  How else would he have lasted so long and prospered so? Boy you are a sound sleeper.”

“Yes sirree… Not by being stupid, that's for sure!  Yes, he knows enough to keep out of trouble."  Dag Diez rose and went over to the other bed, shaking Kade Luir, who was feigning sleep.  "Hey, this is no time to be sleeping, I'm talking to you.  Open your eyes!  Are you making a mockery of me?"

Finally giving in, and checking his anger, Kade Luir pretended to being awakened. Then shaking his head and yawning, he exclaimed that he was still (groggy) tired and demanded that Dag be brief with whatever it is he had to say.

"Bah!  Who needs you?  Go back to your precious sleep if you like." the obnoxious Dag retorted in a gruff voice and waddled back to his chair.

Before long he was singing the same tune to himself.  "That's right; he knows enough to keep in line.  He knows that ones Like Mouro, rich wastrels that they are, are too dangerous to be trifled with and deadly to offend.  I'm not sure, but Magistrate what's his name is, he might even be a distant relative."

Kade, now exasperated, sat up and resorted to fine reasoning to persuade the other to get some sleep.

"Sleep… Sleep?  Why should I?" rowdy Dag snarled as he ignored the drooling down his mouth.

"Eh, your kind will never understand."  Dag idly fingered the copper water pitcher.

"Imagine him having all the fun and not me!  I… stranded here with the likes of you!"  In a burst of anger, he hurled the pitcher violently against the wall above Kade's head.  Luckily there was very little water to spill.

Wiping the spray from his face, Kade Luir clenched his fists, not obliging Dag with a fight.  Quietly reclining again, he turned his face to the wall and remained that way, unresponsive to the vile, disgusting slanders, muttering and provocation of Dag.

"Oh, what's the use?"  His anger spent, his energy consumed by his temper, Dag Diez had finally consented to sleep.  "I might as well get some rest.  Of course you wouldn't take me on!  You know you'd lose.  You just look competent, but you're soft!"

As he pulled up his covers, fully clothed still, he muttered to himself, "And tomorrow, tomorrow, we'll see.  Eh, let him enjoy it while he can…ha, ha, ha!"

Dag’s sinister laughter grated on Kade's nerves.  “Won't he ever shut up?”  But the obnoxious filth kept pouring from Dag’s mouth well into the night until; finally, after several loud belches and yawns, he drifted into a deep, snoring slumber.

Unable to get any sleep Kade Luir tossed and turned then, sitting bolt upright, fixed his brooding gaze on the door, contemplating going after Mouro.

 But what would be the point?  What could he do anyhow?

"He's always preening (grooming) himself like a prize goose," the drunkard Dag stirred in his sleep, "but we'll see.  We'll see how much longer he'll enjoy this privilege."   He snorted a couple more times then rolled onto his other side and began snoring even more thunderously than before.

                                                                             ~

Mouro, meanwhile, after changing his clothes, had patiently waited until all the activity had abated outside his room then, bolting to his feet and with the sealed drum of fine wine tucked under his arm, he headed for the door.

"Don't wait for me, now."  He half turned to address the young waiter, Ted. “I’ll be a while; best you try to get some sleep." Stealing across the deserted dining hall in the dark, he quietly slipped outside and entered the stables.

Leading his horse by the reins, he walked the beast some measure away to the edge of the forest.  At this safe distance, he then vaulted into the saddle and galloped through into woods, disappearing in the paths among the thick foliage.

 He continued to press his fine mare for speed over hedges and ditches as man and mount covered an incredible distance in but a short time.  Finally, he arrived at his destination, the deserted ruins of a temple, hidden among the towering cliffs and ancient cypresses.  Dismounting, he led the mare cautiously across a dilapidated stone bridge spanning a bottomless chasm.

The sentries on duty at the other side were relieved to see that they had accosted Mouro.

03- GUARDS ON DUTY

Hecun, after the formal greeting, asked, "I am indeed pleased to see you, sir, but I feel constrained to inquire what purpose brings you here at this hour.  Were we not supposed to meet at the Magistrate's offices?  And where are your guards Kade Luir and Dag Diez?  I hope nothing untoward has happened to them."

"The guards… Oh no, dear old friend, they are sound asleep and dreaming of the girls or man back at the inn, no doubt."  Mouro's informal greeting put the Head Bailiff at ease.

"I know you're a stickler for protocol, but out here?" he clapped Hecun on the shoulder as they walked to a more private corner of the compound.

 "Let us dispense with the formalities of office.  I'd rather address you as in the past, eh, Elder Brother, if it’s all right."

He waited for Hecun's nod of assent before resuming, "As for my reason for (stealthily, covertly) coming here, I've taken these great pains in hopes of delivering you from an anticipated dread predicament.  Why else?  Tell me, are your water rations not depleted?  That's what I thought; I would have been greatly surprised if they hadn't.  Let's see your map."

Mouro sketched a line of route on the parchment Hecun provided.  "Now, if you start tomorrow along this shortcut I've indicated and, upon reaching the fork, keep to the left for about a day and a half, you should without much difficulty reach the modest inn I'm thinking of.  There one can have their fill of drink and gorge on generous portions of deliciously prepared meals at a fraction of the normal cost which will, no doubt, also please the men.  The proprietor is a bit eccentric, however.  Advise the men not to stare or make any rude remarks about the ugly scar on his face.  No one knows to this day, I suspect, who inflicted it on him many years ago but, if you keep on his good side, he'll lavish you with hospitality, the like of which you have never before experienced.

"But tell me, Elder Brother," Mouro looked at the encampment about him, "surely you had more men than this when you embarked on this journey."

"Two hundred to be exact," Hecun nodded.  "Along the way we suffered several setbacks.  Some were killed and others tried to desert and were appropriately punished but it would take too long for me to go into that right now."  He hoped that Mouro would press him for the details.

"Quite right, we can discuss at length all that later.  We have more immediate concerns we need to address now." came Mouro's disappointing response.

"I'll say this, however," Hecun could not hold back, "along the way we even had a run-in with Zonar but, oddly enough, he opted not to engage us or attempt to free the prisoner."

Robbing the other (Hecun) once more, of a chance to boast, Mouro interrupted. "May I make a suggestion, then?  Since there is no real danger to speak of in this province, and since that cowardly assassin was obviously issuing only empty threats, why should you continue on these remote paths?  Why put yourself and your men through unnecessary hardships?  After a brief stay at the inn, I told you about you can keep to the highway and, in less than three days’ time, you can arrive with ease at Magistrate Rue's offices.  I'll be riding on ahead to inform His Honor of your arrival.  I really should be there now, if it weren't for this detour.”

“Hmm…  Micen Do will be furious about the delay and, no doubt, demand my head on a platter upon our return.  Don't worry, though.  He doesn't scare me one bit and, besides, I know how to deal with him.  As I see it, this was unavoidable.  I had to make amends when, a few days back, it suddenly dawned on me that I had neglected to mention the location of the only well at this temple which still contained water.  Yes, brother, there is another one located here other than the two obvious dry ones you have already discovered.  I stumbled across it quite by accident some years back when I was caught in a similar predicament.  Feeling responsible as I did, I took appropriate measures and raced here over some treacherous terrain in the hope of meeting up with you tonight."

"I'm indebted to you for your concern and trouble." Hecun thanked Mouro gratefully.  "Now, brother, if you'd be so kind as to direct me there."

"Wait, there will be time for it soon enough." Mouro held up a hand, smiling.  "First, I've brought a surprise with me.  I know how fond you are of good wine and had anticipated that you'd be craving a good cup just about now.  If, by some misfortune, I had not met up with you tonight I had planned to leave it hidden here along with the instructions on the whereabouts of the well.  Please allow me to have the drum fetched for you now."  Mouro called for the guard.

Mouths watered and neck craned to observe the unloading of the special drum from Mouro’s horse and its transport over to Mouro.  The guards looked on with hungry, yearning eyes as they waited with trepidation for their turn to partake of the sure to be a rare wine.  They hoped there would be plenty to go round once Hecun and Mouro had had their fill.

Mouro, after a sly grin, called for a cup as he, at the same time, unsealed the mouth of the small barrel.  Filling it to the brim, he ceremoniously presented it to Hecun who received it with appropriate thanks then, politely smiling, put the cup down and called for another cup to be brought.

Filling this one to the brim, Hecun reciprocated the courtesy to Mouro and proposed, "Let us drink together one more time for old times' sake, before we are joined by the others."


"You are too polite.  All right, brother, we'll drink to your good health and to a long, prosperous life."  Mouro grimaced as he obligingly received the cup.  Subsequently, as custom decreed, each deferred the honors of first toast to the other.

After a few turns, Hecun unable to resist any longer, congenially toasted, "To our lasting friendship," before he raised the cup to his lips and was about to gulp it down all in one go when, Mouro, suddenly assuming a stern visage, in a flash discarded his own cup to the side and violently knocked Hecun's cup from his hands, spilling entire contents of the wine all over the bailiff's face and garments.


 "What disgraceful conduct?  How dare you insult me in this manner?" Mouro stormed.

 "You may be my elder, but I'm still your superior and don't you forget it!"  He shook a threatening finger in Hecun's face.

"And you stay out of this!" Mouro turned to lash out at the sergeant Tubak who, (standing by at close proximity,) aimed to intercede on behalf of his commander.

 Mouro once more reverted his menacing gaze back to the Head bailiff and, with curses on his lips, he demanded, "How dare you be so presumptuous?  How dare you behave in this outrageous manner, just because I'm kind enough to treat you with courtesy?"

Aghast (shocked, appalled), Hecun's face flushed and, even though he did not know what he’d done to offend Mouro, finding his tongue, rushed to apologize, but there was no placating (mollifying) Mouro. 

Placed on the defensive, inwardly Hecun remained most resentful of Mouro's inconsistencies, “What kind of game are you playing at?  How dare you set me up, make me breach etiquette, then make me lose face in front of my men like this?”  

Head Bailiff Hecun just wanted to squash this upstart, ungrateful vermin like a bug, but knew only too well of Mouro's hot temper and obstinate nature; therefore, he wisely opted to suffer passively and with total restraint, this heaved, unending abuse, hoping that Mouro's anger would summarily be spent (pass).

Far from being appeased, Mouro was, in fact, further antagonized. He bellowed furiously, "Why in blazes did I take all this trouble…For the likes of you?  You're beneath my contempt!"  Scoffing, he sprung to his feet and stormed away into the darkness.

Alarmed, Hecun raced after Mouro, still apologizing. Eventually he caught up with him beyond the courtyard and, in a hot pursuit, dashed after him behind a half-collapsed tower. The moment he’d entered the full darkness, however, a hand extended from under the dilapidated flight of stairs and forcefully yanked (pulled) Hecun into the ink black crevice, where he was brought face to face with Mouro.

Hecun's fear soon abated when, in a passive voice, Mouro explained, "You can stop worrying now, brother.  I'm not at all offended.  It was a charade, enacted for their benefit."

"Whose benefit,” Dumbfounded Hecun strained to see more clearly.  "What madness is this?"

Moving out of the shadows, his hand still clasping Hecun's shoulder, Mouro smiled wryly.  "Rest assured, my faculties are intact…  I couldn't go through with it, anyhow.  Still, I had to stop you from drinking it, while casting suspicion, that the drink was spiked."

"The wine was spiked.  What are you talking about?" Hecun asked in exasperation.  "We have no enmity between us, why should you try to poison me?"


"You're not listening," Mouro snapped.  "The wine is perfectly fine; they only think it's laced with poison, and I had to play along with the pretense."

Now it was Hecun's turn to be temperamental, "Your inference to 'they"…  Just who are 'they'?  Why do you talk in riddles, or is this just another one of your underhanded ploys to make me look like the fool?  Are you purposefully trying to muddle me?"

"There are turncoats, you fool!  Renegades planted among your men."

"Are you sure?  How do you know this?  Who are they?  How many are there?  Tell me and I'll have their black hearts torn from their chest."  Hecun clenched his fist repetitively.

"I don't know who they are."  Mouro shrugged and walked away.  "I came to know of their existence myself only quite recently, but I didn't have the means to find out their numbers, but I surmise it must be over thirty.  In any case, it’s up to you to flush (hunt) them out."  Reading confusion and disbelief on Hecun's face, he continued, "You still need convincing, don't you?  Why must you always be so obstinate?  I should be furious with you for not trusting me but, oh, all right, I'll start at the beginning and clarify this situation for you, even though I'm pressed for time.”

"Listen, my coming here tonight was not accidental, nor was my failure to tell you about the functioning well. The purpose was obviously other than the one I expressed in front of the men."  He cleared his throat.  "Actually, I was instructed by Micen.  Yes, Micen Do.  Now, don't interrupt.  I was instructed by him to deliver some poisoned wine to you as part of a diabolical plot to bring about the demise of yourself and your men, saving the spies who were obviously warned not to drink the wine."

"But why would Micen want to kill me?" Hecun injected in surprise.  "I was never out of line with him.  I served him loyally for all those years and did nothing to incur his enmity.  What could he gain from my death?"


"You were only the instrument, the insignificant pawn, please forgive my saying so, who had to be sacrificed in the scheme of things.  It had nothing to do with you personally, or with your performance of your duty. “Mouro explained dismally.  "You think you mattered anything to him at all?  Your only fault was that you let yourself become expendable.  Added to that, your mission was doomed from the start, even if you had survived the ambush and other conceivable dangers on the road as you have done.  Yes, I'm well aware of the traps you've avoided all along the way in order to reach this point.  Never mind how I know."  He held up his hand to stay any questions from Hecun.  "Even the desertions you experienced earlier, I suspect, were the workings of the implanted spies, working within to assure your perilous end.

"It would have been their objective to reduce the numbers of those to be doomed way before now and, no doubt, you played right into their hands.  You would have done better, my friend, to have, just this once, acted contrary to your nature, to have made concessions and exceptions to the rules.  Your flaw, besides being too predictable, is that you're a stickler for rules and regulations.  Don't you see how much of an easy target that makes you, how much more vulnerable?  Never mind, it’s pointless to harp on that now."

"How deep is this conspiracy, anyway?" Hecun grumbled, gritting his teeth.

Mouro, agitated, turned away.  "Listen well and you'll learn the extent of it."

                                                                                ~

(END OF SECTION 32)

Tuesday, 20 May 2025

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 19

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 19


As predicted, it did not take very long before the unconscious scholar stirred.  Stifling a cough, Yagu sat erect, waiting with bated breath for the young man (Nevetsecnuac) to open his eyes.

The Scholar’s (Nevetsecnuac's) lips moved, but no sound ushered forth.  His eyes cracked open then, suddenly recalling his last moments (memories), he sat bolt upright.

"Take it easy, son." a friendly voice stopped him from jumping off of the bed.  "You might have had a concussion after that fall."

Fortunately, Nevetsecnuac having just then regained his focus, turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw the old farmer whom he instantly recognized.  "How is it that you came to be here, sir?" He asked respectfully despite his surprise.  Then, feeling a gripping pain in the back of his head, he raised his hand absentmindedly to touch it; there was a big lump there, that correspondingly stained his fingers with a crimson hue.

Yagu Dorka, hummed and hemmed, as he arranged his thoughts and the consistent facts that would tally (correspond, parallel) with the yarn he was about to weave (knit, plait); but even before Yagu responded, Svein (Nevetsecnuac) had already grasped the situation and the reason why he had been spared, from an otherwise, certain doom.

Nevetsecnuac now discretely observed how Yagu’s difficult life had etched a few more lines on his face already scored with wrinkles. Despite his apparent ailment however, which anew threw the old man into another violent fit of coughing, he was still a hardy peasant and, not easily sapped of his strength.

Eventually, when Yagu's coughing subsided, “So, it is you! I thought as much." his eyes smarting, the old man forced a smile to his quivering lips and nodded.

 “Heaven be praised! Sir, you gave us such a scare when you fainted."  He pounded at his chest to relieve the congestion.

"Fainted? No.", Svein's voice was incredulous. “I was drugged,” he wanted to say more, but he stilled his tongue, for fear of further aggravating Yagu’s condition.

"Yes, yes, you're right, of course. You passed out, but it was not done on purpose, you know."  Yagu groped for words, then grimaced slightly, leaning back to explain in a sincere tone.  "You see, at my advanced age, I'm always beset with ailments of one kind or another.  I won't bore you with lengthy explanations of them all.  Only that, well, one of my medications, it was my fault, really for leaving it on the kitchen counter after I'd used it, and wouldn't you know it?  It was mistakenly, when I was absent, it was used by Kenny, my cousin’s, the Innkeeper’s youngest son, when he made your tea.  You see, the ingredients of this prescription bear an uncanny resemblance to the tea leaves we use, and the pots are of the same sort.  It's understandable that he could make that mistake.  I'm so very sorry."

Yagu spread his hands comically.

Likely story: you must think of me as a fool.  Nevetsecnuac was peeved; still not letting on, with outward calm equanimity, he listened on to the absurd (bizarre) explanation.

 "Any way, it’s one of its medicinal properties that it puts me to sleep."  Stifling a cough, he shook his head, "Yes, that stupid boy gave you my medicine by mistake but don't worry, it won't harm you none.  Not a big boy like you.  Or should I say "man" now?" 

Yagu started to chuckle, partly due to his attempt at humor, partly in relief, as he saw that Svein raised no objections to his fabrication.

 "You are married by now, are you not?"  He paused to note Svein's nod.  "You must tell me all about it later.  After all we've shared, we're practically kinsmen, are we not?"

 Yagu smiled sheepishly while taking such liberties.

 "I'm afraid all I've gotten is older, although I've picked up a little learning, thanks to my educated cousin here….”

"Well, anyway, you should have seen the commotion when you fainted, passed out, rather.  You gave us such a scare," Yagu slapped his knee jovially, "that is, until we found out what had happened to you.  I came in just as you passed out, you see."

Nevetsecnuac (Svein), now that the danger had passed, was both amused and entertained by Yagu's description of the supposed antics of the innkeeper's family.  He knew it was all invented, but Yagu had the individual's characteristics all in place, and embellished it with such detail, thinking, no doubt, that he was covering all angles.

"And if you're wondering how, it is you revived so quickly, well, that's easily enough explained," Yagu concluded, "we gave you another medicine, one I use to keep me on my toes.  You see, I tire so easily and there's so much to be done around here.  Yes sir, it did the trick and brought you around in a jiffy.  Luckily you had not drunk so much tea to begin with and you're such a healthy young man.  Well, I mustn't disturb you any longer.", slapping his knee, Yagu rose to go just as a tray of food was brought in by the grinning Aguda, who parroted the same story as the old man, even using the same turns of phrase Yagu had used except for the minor difference of substituting the word 'wine' for 'tea'.

"We'll talk at length tomorrow."  Yagu tugged at Aguda's sleeve, steering him towards the door to cut short his prattling.  "Yes, yes, and we'll introduce you to everyone tomorrow too, especially my grandson Lerty, he’s such a good boy and you are his benefactor, he must thank you personally! We both owe you so much.” Yagu affectionately smiled at Svein.

“Yes, you’ll meet him tomorrow, because it’s too late now.” Yagu continued. “And besides, you should eat before your meal gets cold, and rest.  But don't hesitate to call out if you need anything else, son.  My room is right next to yours."  He pushed (shoved) his cousin Aguda the innkeeper outside and closed the door after them.

"What's the matter with you?"  Once outside, the old man wiped the beads of perspiration off of his forehead and looked scornfully at Aguda.  "You know, you really talk too much!  You nearly spoiled everything.  Didn't you eavesdrop on what I was telling him?"  Grumbling, he kept up the reproach as he led the way to the kitchen.

"I spoil everything.  You're completely without fault, I suppose?" Aguda gestured sarcastically then, closing the kitchen door to sneer spitefully.

"What?  What did I do that was so wrong?" Yagu jumped back down the other's throat with his questioning gaze.

Aguda glared back, resisting the urge to bellow, "How come you couldn't think of a better excuse than that one you gave?  You gave me dreadful fear back there."

"And what was wrong with it?  He bought it, didn't he?  I thought I was rather clever cooking up such a convincing story."

"Clever, perhaps," Aguda laughed coldly, "except that he drank no tea."

"NO TEA?"

"Shh!!!  Quiet!  You want him to hear you?" Aguda warned hotly.

"Then what was the teapot doing there on the table?" Yagu demanded angrily in a quieter voice.  "I know you're too cheap to spoil the wine or the food."

"Well, for your information, we'd spiked all three.  And no, he partook of no tea; it was too coarse for his liking."  Aguda snorted, wrinkling his nose.  "It was half a cup of wine, if that? But for certain, it was the spiked vittles that did the job."

"No tea?  No tea!  Yet he...  augh, Gods preserve me!" Yagu clutched at his chest, stymied, totally missing Aguda's ugly grimace.

 "Oh, I feel so ashamed!" he meekly ejected, looking to his cousin for some sympathy, some understanding.  "He knew all along that I was lying, yet..."

"Yet he allowed you to maintain your dignity." Aguda nodded coldly.  "Such finesse!"

"Such manners too, don't forget.  He's a most remarkable young man, isn't he?"  Yagu’s sigh rumbled in his chest like thunder.

 "Oh, how I wish I'd had a son like him.  That boy will go far."  Again, he began to cough.  "You know, your boys can learn a lot from him."

"And what's wrong with my boys?" Aguda's eyes blazed with anger as he retorted hotly.

"Nothing…  No need to get so huffy about it.  I merely suggested that they take some lessons from this young man.", Yagu was cowed.  "You said yourself; he has such finesse.  Respect, isn't that what you meant by it?"

I said 'finesse', you fool! Aguda swore inwardly yet nodded his head in concurrence.  It's pointless to argue intelligently with this ignoramus.

"Yes, your boys do show respect to you, but not much to anyone else, certainly not to their stepmother Fiona."  Yagu threw a quick pitying glance at Aguda's young wife, toiling quietly in the corner then busied himself with the preparation of his own nightly potion.

Aguda's stern eyes scrutinized his wife briefly as a sinister, ugly smile played fleetingly across his face.  Deciding not to make an issue of it, he snorted and returned his attention back to Yagu. 

"It's your own fault if they show no respect to you, old buzzard. Aguda jumped in, not giving the other a chance to speak. “For, in all cases you must earn their respect first.” 

“All right, whatever you say...” Yagu was tired of constantly fighting Aguda, and as usual, let things slide.

 “Well then, so long as you see the error of your ways, “Aguda having won this round as well, softened. “Though now, I think I'd better go and lock up." Gloating in self-satisfaction, Aguda jumped to his feet. 

"You're going to be all right with that?" he asked his wife rhetorically as he headed out the door.

"Yes, yes, you go on ahead." she answered automatically.  "I'll secure the back door after I'm done here and dumped the..."  She saw he was gone.

"You'd better go to bed, too, sweet child." Yagu said to Fiona kindly, once Aguda was absent.  "It'll wait until tomorrow."

"I've kept your supper warm, Uncle," the young woman assented, "shall I dish it out for you now?"

"No, no, dear.  You just go on ahead.  You must be exhausted, toiling all day without rest.  I'll serve myself."

When she'd left Yagu prepared himself a platter, careful to add an extra helping for his grandson, in case the poor boy had, once again, missed his dinner.

 

                                                                                     ~

After proper introductions at dawn of the following day, Svein informed Yagu of his wish to depart at mid-morning, even though the downpour had not ceased.  Of course, his host would not hear of it and, gaining reinforcement from the innkeeper and his brood, prevailed upon Svein all morning to delay his departure for at least a day or two.  The false, forced sincerity, however, made Svein long all the more to escape this den-of-deceit.

After having readied his luggage, he breakfasted in the large dining hall.  Yagu was still pestering him not to go when Kenny, the youngest boy, burst in, dripping wet to announce that he'd spotted another traveler headed in their direction.

Elatedly just then Aguda let it slip to Svein, how good fortune had smiled on them thrice this week that, this was their third customer in as many days, a rare occurrence indeed.  Seated across the table from Svein, Yagu sat with a lowered head, (chewing his lip and) hiding the serious concern that had suddenly registered on his pupils.

Presently Svein witnessed first-hand the stir, the commotion from within the inn as they prepared to welcome yet another potential (prey) customer.

Sometime later, Aguda, having seen every detail, beaming from ear to ear took up his position by the door and waited anxiously, all the while wringing his sweaty hands.

 As soon as the traveler made his appearance at the door, Aguda greeted him with the same, patented felicitations that Svein had received earlier on; but when, after the sweeping bow which Aguda typically used to accompany his congenial inquiry of the stranger's name- the larger than life,  fierce newcomer, had instead, fastening (pinning) his cold, disdainful eyes on the innkeeper had simply snorted:

"You may address me as 'Sir'."

Nevetsecnuac could not shake the sudden, foreboding feeling that their puny lives were no more than a mere annoyance to this superior being; as at same moment a deadly, oppressive shadow had instantly engulfed the entire premise, chilling everyone within, to the marrow.  This was no ordinary traveler; there was something potent, something so very lethal about him.

The red-faced Aguda, mumbling nonsense, looked about him, as if seeking a hole to crawl into, only to see the amused Yagu turning his face to the wall as the old man stifled a chuckle.

From his odd attire the stranger could be any number of things: a warrior ranger, a military guard, perhaps an advanced scout, or a lone messenger.  He was formidable enough, his large, framed body towered well over six feet in height and his fiery red hair and grizzled beard framed a pair of ice-cold blue gray eyes.

Shoving aside the glib tongued Aguda, who was intent on ushering him to a seat, he strode boldly over to a table of his own choosing by the rear window and squarely sat himself down. 

As he placed his impressive sword down on the table, he looked across his shoulder at Svein.  Their eyes briefly met.  He grimaced coldly, gave a brief nod of greeting then turned his gaze ahead once more.  He then withdrew a pouch, obviously full of cash, and laid it on the table beside the sword's scabbard.  In a non-nonsense manner, he demanded wine at once and some meat for breakfast.

Aguda hurried Kenny off to the kitchen to start his wife cooking the meat, then attempted, as he had so many times before, to impose himself on his guest.  Unlike other times, the innkeeper was severely rebuked and had to make a hasty retreat to the kitchen after his son.

“Greed makes people courageous, they say.”  Yagu succumbed to additional chuckles.

Aguda emerged shortly with a small jug of wine, not unlike the one Svein had been served, and all in smiles, approached the stranger once more.

"What is this, you dolt?" the stranger thundered.  "Are you hard of hearing or just stupid?

 I asked for a flagon."  With a sudden sweep of his hand, he almost knocked the wine and Aguda with it, to the ground.

 Aguda, with incredible agility, righted himself, managing to spill only a bit of it on his dark clothing.

"It was I who ordered the jug." Svein loudly interposed.  "Please bring it here."

"Oh, yours is coming, sir." Aguda forced a smile to his quivering lips.

 "This is but a complimentary draught for this gentleman while my son fetches his flagon.

"Don't insult our guest!" Yagu felt he must intercede and rushed over to grab the jug from Aguda's hand just before he was about to pour it into the stranger's cup.  He made a pretense of sniffing it. "This is too coarse…our apologies, sir."

 Turning to Aguda he glared, "This is only fit for us, not for such fine gentlemen as our guests.  I'll take it away."

The son then made a timely appearance on the scene with the flagon.  Seeing the seal was unbroken, Yagu relaxed and let the boy pass.  I don't know why I'd worried.  That tightwad would never taint that much wine.

Svein (Nevetsecnuac) disdainfully observed the exchange of looks between the two men, as Aguda held the kitchen door for Yagu.  Nevetsecnuac surmised how; once they were hidden from view, both would be locked in a heated row, with Yagu again obstinately opposing Aguda's diabolical attempt to claim yet another victim.  It was apparent that even his substantial gift to Yagu earlier had not alleviated Aguda's greed enough to deter him from more (acts of) murders.

Meanwhile, the stranger, indifferently, or perhaps unaware of the peril he was in, downed one cup after another in succession, his eyes fixed steadily outside the window.  Only when the flagon was emptied, he angrily pounded the table and howled like a wolf for more.  At once another flagon and the hot meal were rushed to him to calm him down before he brought the whole inn down around him.

Svein delayed his departure, captivated by this most intriguing stranger and, never doubting his prowess, wishing to see how he would deal with this danger.  Naturally Aguda could do little to affect his fiendish plan (scheme) and so, after the safe departure of the stranger, Nevetsecnuac bid his farewells and resumed his lonely trek towards the Capital.

Once more, deliberately choosing the remote, cross-country routes, he relentlessly, for old habits die hard, pushed onwards, taxing the steed's strength to cover great distances. This time, however, an odd sensation of being tracked persistently gnawed at him; yet, each time he looked around, taking the pains to avidly survey his surroundings, he detected nothing (zilch, nil, zero,) out of the ordinary to warrant extra caution.

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