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.

02-ADELRAM (1) JP

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

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 11

But wait," Zhadol held up his hand, "let me give you another good example of Dwengzur’s powers.

“Yes, that night Dwengzur provided us with yet another demonstration, chiefly for Egil Viggoaries’s amusement.  A reluctant volunteer was chosen to sit before him, then Dwengzur, with a great, mysterious air, muttering incantations, place both thumbs on Lenny’s"

"Not the Under-Secretary Lenny Sukzor?" Yennic broke in, grabbing Zhadol's arm in excitement.  "Not that old sourpuss?"

Commander Zhadol jerked his arm free.  "Everyone over twenty-five is old to you." he scoffed disdainfully.  He was stalling, searching in silence with knitted brows for a way of retracting this damaging slip.

Yennic was not about to let it pass that easily and fixed his intense green eyes on Zhadol.  "Now don't change the subject.  It is him you're referring to, isn't it?"

01- COMMANDER ZHADOL AND YENNIC

Zhadol hemmed and hawed as his face twitched nervously but he soon saw the pointlessness of any denial.  Biting his lip, he cast down his eyes and gave the barest nod of affirmation.

"But this is astounding!" Yennic gloated maliciously, easing himself back.

 "What do you know?  To think that all this time, I, and everyone else were so completely duped.  To think that he’s…."

"Now, Yennic, I needn't warn you of the consequences." Zhadol ejected sternly, authoritatively glaring at Yennic.

For a fleeting moment there was such hardness, such blood-curdling coldness in Zhadol's pupils that Yennic, caught by surprise, a small shudder passed through him.  He dared not taunt the Commander any further and at once wiped off the leering smile from his face.

 "No, of course not," Yennic responded hastily then in all seriousness.  "I swear on the graves of my forefathers, I'll never breathe a word of this to anyone.  But please do go on.  Tell me about the demonstration."  He urged Zhadol on, trying his best to play down the incident but the Commander's silence was unnerving.

"Unless, of course, you'd rather talk of something else..."  His eyes looked past Zhadol with an effort and focused on the distant dark sky.

 "How brilliant the moon is tonight in the company of all those twinkling stars," he added thoughtfully, with a meaning, of course, entirely different.

His clumsy attempt to draw out his jealousy amused Zhadol. “How predictable you are…  How absurd.” In silence Zhadol stared at Yennic, who appeared to be lost in thought.  Still, his body, tensing like a bowstring, betrayed him.

 As Zhadol studied the Lieutenant a cynical smile brushed his lips then, nodding, he volunteered the information Yennic was thirsting to hear.

"Yes, Dwengzur placed his thumbs on Lenny’s forehead like so," he said, demonstrating the placement on Yennic.  "Then he uttered more incongruous, incomprehensible incantations.  Within seconds, Lenny’s eyes glazed over, and his head dropped.  Most interestingly, however, Dwengzur's hair had just then turned completely white then it reverted to its original fiery red color, and he straightened up to reveal his findings.  Dwengzur not only told of what motives lay in Lenny’s heart, but also of the desires and inhibitions that lurked in the dark recess of his unconscious mind.  Armed with this knowledge, Egil Viggoaries then ordered Dwengzur to bring Lenny around.  All the sorcerers had to do was simply mutter some words, blow once on Lenny 's face and Lenny revived instantly with no recollection whatever of what had happened.  He even asked Dwengzur, with some apprehension, when the demonstration would begin."

02- LENNY SUKZOR (1)JP

"That must have been a riot!" Yennic laughed venomously.  "I don't suppose you'll impart some of that dirt (on Lenny) to me?”  Yennic fished for details.  "No?  I thought as much."  Disappointed, he pursed his lips.

Zhadol suppressed his annoyance and continued, "When Egil Viggoaries confronted Lenny with the knowledge Dwengzur had gained, all of it proved quite accurate.  Extremely embarrassed, poor Lenny didn't know which way to turn.  He probably wished there was a rock somewhere that he could crawl under and die.  Egil Viggoaries, with his insatiable appetite for cruelty, played it to the limit, making Lenny squirm time and time again.  I don't have to tell you how he brutally toyed with Lenny and how he shamelessly enjoyed himself at the Under-Secretary's expense."

"I would have given anything to be there to see that upstart squirm like a stuck pig." Yennic voiced without reservation, his cold, unsympathetic reaction.  He had made no secret of his intense dislike of Lenny Sukzor ever since the Under-Secretary had publicly spurned and humiliated him.

Zhadol, on the other hand, had had no serious clashes with Lenny and, therefore, neither liked nor disliked the man.  However, he respected the Under-Secretary's strong character, his sense of justice and his frank, no-nonsense manner.

Yennic noting the strong disapproval in Zhadol's face, the threat implicit in his silence, quickly checked his tone and mumbled, "I don't suppose that Dwengzur got too many volunteers after that."

"No, he did not." Zhadol replied mechanically.  Something else was preying on his thoughts.

"Still, such tricks are very useful."  Yennic grimaced coldly as he stole a malevolent look at Zhadol.  "One could reap untold benefits and gain a serious advantage over one’s foes.  His Royal Highness was, no doubt, profoundly interested in this?"

"Precisely," Zhadol nodded distractedly, turned to look directly at Yennic and stiffened his posture.  "More importantly, Dwengzur can study the juxtaposition of the planets and constellations and predict future events.  Unfortunately, however, his predictions augured (portended) more trouble."  He shook his head, "We'll have to indefinitely postpone our trip to Yaguzer."

"But the arrangements have already been made!" Yennic's initial reaction was to protest vehemently.  "What kind of trouble?" he looked up to ask.  "Why can't we…"

"This is quite serious."  Zhadol gestured to freeze Yennic's query and explained, "Three days prior to our leaving Channing I’d acquired a disturbing piece of news from Egil Viggoaries."

"And you waited until now to tell me about it?" Yennic interrupted indignantly.

"I held off because", Zhadol looked away.

"Because you didn't trust me, is that it?" Yennic, fuming, finished the sentence.

"No, not at all," Zhadol countered morosely (petulantly).

03- COMANDER ZHADOL

 "I had to use extreme discretion, and this was the first available moment we have had that I could safely broach this subject with you.  You see, Dwengzur has read something vitally important in the stars and, through Egil Viggoaries’s influence, gained a rare, private audience with His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek.  At this point, I'm told, Dwengzur gained Sovereign Zakhertan’s confidence and informed him that there would be, yet another assassination attempt quite soon.  When pressed, he even predicted the exact timing of it."

"Are you certain of this? When is it?" Yennic gasped, stiffening despite himself.

"Quite certain,” Zhadol shrugged his shoulders, "As for when it’s supposed to transpire, that, I'm afraid, is privileged information.  No other, outside of His Royal Highness, his bodyguards, Dwengzur and Egil Viggoaries, have been informed, not even P.M.  Lamont Gudaren."

"So, His Royal Highness took the threat seriously, then.  I thought that he was inclined not to believe in soothsayers, that he barely tolerated them."  Yennic's provocative question risked angering Zhadol once more, but this was far too important info (data, material) for him to cower now.

“Have the Kozurs advanced the date?  Why haven't they informed me? Or had Zaur Stugr and the others been implicated by that cursed Dwengzur? Zhadol surely knows more than he’s willing to admit. But he’s really spooked. It’s so unlike him to be so tightlipped; but considering what’s at stake, I’ll just have to try harder that’s all.”   Yennic masked his concern with the air of disdain and skepticism, hoping to goad the commander to be more open with him.

"Dwengzur is different, perhaps the wisest one of all but, obviously, I've failed to convince you of that."  Zhadol's answer was mocking.  He was indeed angered by the other's seeming obstinacy, but then he softened, adding, "Besides, as I understand it, Dwengzur even staked his own life on the accuracy of the time he'd predicted for the assassination attempt."

"Please don't be cross with me.", Yennic used his boyish charm to disarm and appease Zhadol.  Pursing his lips together, he queried, "But if, as you say, Dwengzur cannot be killed, wouldn't his gamble be an empty show, a farce?"

"It seems that I've unintentionally misled you." Zhadol countered, smiling.  "Of course, he can be killed, but not by any conventional means.  Naturally his people keep this secret under close guard."

"Yet His Royal Highness obviously bears this knowledge?" Yennic interposed skeptically, narrowing his eyes.

"Don't forget, Yennic, His Highness was once a Field Marshall commanding our invincible armies in his glorious campaigns against Korion.  His forces penetrated the farthest corners of that state, like the wind itself."

“I know… I know rhetoric well.  Get on with it, man.”  Seemingly in agreement, Yennic impatiently nodded his head.

"During that great episode in our history," Zhadol continued in a more level tone, "His Highness must have had a brush with Dwengzur's kind, some outcast, perhaps, that had been hunted down."

Noting the puzzlement on Yennic's face Zhadol explained, "Apparently I've omitted telling you something else.  You see, when one of them breaks their stringent tribal laws, he or she is automatically cut down, condemned to be a non-entity without even the benefit of trial.  However, before the sentence of death is carried out the elders apparently grant the offender a head-start at fleeing to safety.  This, of course, is the illusion of mercy for, in all cases, the convicted one is always, quite without forgiveness, hunted down and disposed of without a trace.  It is another one of their unwritten laws, a fact of their life that no one gets to leave the tribe, willingly or unwillingly, alive.”

04- HUNTED DOWN AND KILLED

"Now, if I'm now permitted to speculate a little, one such fugitive must have fallen into His Highness' hands before their demise.  In all-probability Zakhertan Yozdek was, quite by chance, able to witness the method of execution and put the facts together.  Still later he must have elaborated on the tale while recounting his military exploits.  You know how Egil Viggoaries recollects even the most trivial of details, never forgetting anything no matter how long ago it was said."  Zhadol's eyes suddenly opened wide, "Come to think of it, that precise knowledge must be what binds Dwengzur in servitude to Egil Viggoaries and keeps him in check.  Considering his vagueness as to how he saved the sorcerer's life hmmm, but I'm straying from the point.”

Smiling, he sat back and inhaled deeply.  "Yes, Dwengzur delivered his warning to His Highness all right, but then he provided His Grace Zakhertan with an effective solution as well."

"You mean that at each instance, the assassin or assassins will now be timely intercepted and, the danger to His Royal Highness will forever be successfully averted?  Is that doable?"

“Why not, on the proviso (condition) the proper measures are implemented in time," Zhadol nodded.

"And, as I've been told, His Highness was greatly impressed and has already decided to adopt Dwengzur's plans (policies) to that effect.  Oh, and I ought to correct you on this; there is only one assassin in the prophecy, not the multitude you'd expect."

“A solitary one,” Yennic was intrigued.  Masking it, he speculated, "I suppose it was decided that only one can get through, infiltrate the security, undetected. “

“Not a bad idea, however he has to be quite an extraordinary being, considering the odds stacked up against him."

"Yes, I quite agree.  He has to be an extraordinary assassin, to say the least, to be planning a single-handed attempt on the life of His Royal Highness and, what's more, give cause for serious concern to Dwengzur and His Excellency."

Zhadol's uncanny words startled Yennic and placed him instantly on his guard.  “

How much did Zhadol suspect?  Was he toying with him, testing him? “But, after a brief scrutiny of the Commander, Yennic concluded, “No, he suspects nothing.”  And with that, his alarm dissipated in one breath.

"Zakhertan Yozdek, of course, is interested in capturing him alive."

Imagining the hellish tortures that awaited the unnamed assassin, Yennic dropped his head then shuddered involuntarily as he commiserated, "Yes, how I pity the poor wretch that will be walking into that trap."

The remark was innocuous enough but the reckless response, the unmistakable sympathy in Yennic's voice, took Zhadol by surprise.  He turned sharply and examined the Lieutenant.  “Did I hear him right?”

Yennic winced and swallowed hard.  Disregarding the Commander's questioning gaze, he grunted, "By the gods, another assassination attempt!  Won't they ever learn?"

Then, looking straight at Zhadol, he pointedly, defiantly asked, "Do you suppose it will end with his, and the other conspirator's capture?  No, that would be too easy.  The last attempt was made only eight years ago, and it was only recently that the witch hunt ended, and the strong measures were rescinded.  Now it will start all over again and we'll be cast into turmoil once more.  I wonder how many more will be made to suffer, justly or unjustly, this time to appease His Royal Highness' wrath?"

“Oops!  He'd gone a bit too far!”

Before Yennic could retract his last words or try to cover them up, Zhadol barked, "Hold your tongue!  Your words could be misconstrued as treason.  Take care with what you say and to whom you say it."  His face twitched anxiously as he looked nervously about.

 Yennic's face mirrored Zhadol's fear.

Convinced there was no one about, Zhadol reprimanded Yennic severely, "You're fortunate that I know your heart, but your reckless diatribes (tirades rantings) will one day land you in serious trouble, beyond anyone's help.  More influential men have fallen for saying less."

Yennic appreciated Zhadol's concern and told him so then, used other honeyed words to placate him.  Even so, it was some time before Zhadol was calm enough to return the conversation to the subject of Dwengzur.

"That may be," Nevetsecnuac heard Yennic, back to his old self again, stubbornly counter, "but I still fail to see how a mere scholar could threaten His Excellency Egil Viggoaries.  How can he be the cause of his serious downfall, or as Dwengzur so bluntly predicted it, the cause of His Excellency's disgraceful, premature death?"

Nevetsecnuac pricked up his ears upon hearing the word, scholar. 

“Are they referring to me, or rather to Fradel Rurik Korvald?  Tomorrow morning, I would have discarded these clothes and donned scholar's garments and, in doing so, I would have blindly walked into their trap.”  Nevetsecnuac knew that he could have easily bested them all, but not without cost. 

Because he would be acting contrary to Fradel Rurik Korvald's character, disguise or no disguise, if there were an engagement, he would be forced to kill them all.  These men were merely following orders and his sense of justice and aversion to murder prevailed on Nevetsecnuac to be merciful.

05- NEVETSECNUAC

"Even if we ignore all his power and influence," Yennic's argument took Nevetsecnuac's attention away from his private thoughts, "His Excellency Egil Viggoaries is famed throughout the land for his martial skills, second only to His Royal Highness in invincibility in combat.  He could never be caught off guard or be bested by anyone, let alone by an insipid scholar.  Don't you think that this prediction is a bit too fantastic to be taken seriously?  A scholar indeed!  Why, a single breath could knock a scholar over!"  Yennic curtly and gratingly laughed.

"No matter what you say, I cannot accept (swallow) this.  Furthermore, it makes no sense to me at all that a man of Dwengzur's abilities should be so compliant.  If he really wanted to, I doubt anyone could stop him, threat, or no threat.  Why then should he stick around and, worse still, remain in the limelight, given the circumstances."

“Why indeed.” Nevetsecnuac concurred.

"Unless, of course, he harbors a more sinister purpose; meanwhile, feigning being helpless, to gain some lethal advantage." Yennic snorted.

"Your point is well taken, Yennic." Zhadol concurred, stroking his beard.

"I confess that I, too, have experienced similar qualms.  Still, Egil Viggoaries is no fool.  You know how shrewd he is."

"That aside," Yennic impatiently drummed his fingers on his knee, "if Dwengzur is as good as his claim, how did he err in the prediction of the scholar's exact time of arrival here at Cyprecox Pass?  Wasn't tonight supposed to be the time?  Though we've remained vigilant in our watch, there's been no sign of him so far, nor do I expect there will be.  If he fails to show by dawn tomorrow, we should take our leave of this god-forsaken pass and return to the Capital."

"That would be disobeying direct orders, and you well know the penalty for that."   Zhadol shook his head.  "I'm afraid that we'll just have to stick it out for another two days at least, if not more."

"I object to following orders blindly."  Yennic fidgeted in his seat then looked up,

“What if he never shows up?  What if we've missed him already because he's taken an alternate route?”

“Are you quite certain that pompous scholar would choose this desolate dirt road over the more pleasurable and scenic river route, more akin to a scholar's tastes?  His Excellency is only interested in results.  Won't he be furious?"

"Orders are orders.  We are to stay put here regardless of the consequences or rewards; any action or inaction may foster." Zhadol spoke sternly, frowning.

"However, to put your mind more at ease, I recommended before our departure that Lance Diostin be posted on the river route.  He was dispatched the day before we were.  You see that angle has been covered as well."

“Lance Diostin?" Yennic nodded appreciatively.  "How many were dispatched with him?"

"I recommended five.  Does that meet with your approval?" Zhadol responded mockingly with a wry smile.  "So now you can stop worrying?"

Curtailing a curt response, Yennic grimaced and dropped his eyes then, after a momentary pause, meekly ejected, "How can I?"  A definite vulnerability lay under his tone.

"I've been rather apprehensive about this assignment from the start."  He bit his lower lip.  When Zhadol remained quiet, Yennic continued, "I'm filled with trepidation over the precarious predicament we've been placed in.  We're doing his Excellency's bidding, but what if this were ever to come to light?"  He shook his head dismally.

"I mean, by upholding one order, aren't we committing a still worse offense?  Undermining Prime Minister; Egil Viggoaries’s aim is one thing, but..."

"But do you wish to live forever, Yennic?" Zhadol chuckled then, meeting the Lieutenant's grim stare and noting his serious unease, he stopped teasing.

Speaking soothingly, he encouraged Yennic, "You needn't be so concerned, Yennic.  Egil Viggoaries knows what he's doing.  His Royal Highness doesn't really care whether Fradel Rurik Korvald complies with the summons or not.  Really, it’s only a whim with him and now, with this new threat on the horizon, the matter of Fradel Rurik Korvald's memorial poem is the farthest thing from Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek's mind.  Only Lamont Gudaren is anticipating the poet's arrival and, expecting serious opposition from Egil Viggoaries, has gone to his predictable lengths to ensure the scholar's safe delivery."

"A futile attempt for, as always, His Excellency Egil Viggoaries is one step ahead of him."  Yennic nodded appreciatively.

“So that explains the presence of this contingent.” Nevetsecnuac grimaced.  “They are expecting to do battle with the Prime Minister's men.  They must be planted all along the way.”

“Fortunately, I diverted from the usual routes and so escaped both this disaster and the assistance.”  Nevetsecnuac now even suspected that the alleged bandits that had attacked Fradel when they had met were in fact Egil Viggoaries's men.

“I wonder how he's been faring.”  Sudden worry momentarily creased (clouded) Nevetsecnuac's features.

“Oh, but he's in the care of Fiery Comet; he'll be all right.” Nevetsecnuac, smiling, quickly brushed aside this concern.

 

(END OF SECTION 11)

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