Showing posts with label spy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spy. Show all posts

Friday, 10 July 2026

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 14

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 14

                                                 

At the end of another typical, lengthy day’s arduous riding, nearing dusk when they spotted an old, clearly abandoned farmhouse which was precariously perched on a hillside, Uyuk, quickly suggested, "It's badly dilapidated, but there is still enough of it left to shelter us from this bone-chilling gale. I for one, would like to spend the night there."

"It’s an apt place for a trap."  Hugen simply grunted (grumbled).

01- UYUK  (6)JP

“Highly unlikely," Uyuk insistently rebuffed Hugen; his aching body demanding an immediate reprieve.” This desolate area is clearly forsaken by both man and beast.”

"Not in this instance." Hugen shook his head.  But Uyuk, being too exhausted to bother listing his reasons or heeding Hugen’s counter arguments, very much in need of respite had adamantly this time (unrelenting), spurred his horse towards it.  Though it went against his better judgment, Hugen after shrug, reluctantly followed Uyuk.

Once inside, they quickly cleared the debris off to one side and, relaxing their vigil slightly for the first time, they settled down cross-legged in the least drafty spot on the floor to talk freely, something they had not been able to do (for several days) until then.  They even allowed themselves the liberty of broaching the contents of a large jug of country wine they had purchased five days back at an obscure border town.  Time sped quickly and presently they were very mellowed by the quantity of strong spirits they had consumed.  When Hugen drunk extensively, whether inebriated or not, he would uncharacteristically, become placid (tranquil) and quite sentimental; this time being no different, switching effortlessly between dialects, he began to reminisce about the past in general and his own childhood.

"Ah, that cursed day!  I was barely eight, but even then, I understood only too well the calamity that befell us, the panic that suffocated the air to saturation point, making everyone wild with worry.  Yes, I can remember it all too vividly, like it happened only yesterday; the misbegotten day when our brave soldiers, no match for the barbaric offensive launched by Field Marshall Zakhertan Yozdek, were routed at the battle of Nozurk.  Our noble King, Anguan Binchan, forced to flee the Capital with only nine thousand men and withdraw to the wilderness of Zujug."

"I was much younger, and my recollection of that time is not as clear as yours," Uyuk nodded, leaning forward to place a sympathetic hand on Hugen's shoulder, "but I understand that the second offensive that was fought in Zujug was even more brutal."

"Brutal; aye that it was!" Hugen shuddered and met Uyuk's keen gaze.  “It boggles the mind to think that any human beings can inflict such horrors on others of same species!  We could have never anticipated (imagined) the scope of genocide the army of Zakhertan Yozdek’s could inflict on hapless civilians, defenceless women and children, all without mercy, falling like ripe stalks of grain under his scything."  Hugen clenched his fists as the fires of indignation filled his veins. 

02- - HUGEN (26)jp

"You may expect more mercy from the uncivilized barbarians at the north, not the disciplined army of Wenjenkun." He shook his head.

"I still shiver and get chilled to my very marrow when I think of the atrocities, they committed, the rapes, the tortures, the pillage. I can still hear the anguished cries of the old men, the women and children, the wailing of babies thrown into the street to be trampled on by the horse's hooves.” Biting his lip, Hugen fell silent for a moment.

“The terrible sound still rings in my ears and haunts my dreams even to this very day!"  Hugen repetitively wrung his hands and nodded as he, in his mind’s eye relived the massacre over and over.

"Orphaned at an early age, I was, placed in the care of my maternal aunt.  Loujan was her name.  She was a rare, kindly soul.  She was quite beautiful, too beautiful in fact.  Childless herself, she loved all children, and myself especially, reared me like I was her very own.  And yes, I reciprocated her motherly love and loved her as a devoted son."  There was a drunken conviction in Hugen's voice as he tapped at his chest, "I loved her, all right, to the very marrow of my being."

"At least you've known that kind of love." Uyuk huffed, as he studied Hugen.

After a painful silence Hugen then looked up, his face creased with sorrow as his eyes once more met Uyuk's.  "You know she sacrificed her life to save me?  She was the one who concealed me, told me to stay put, come what may, as she brazened it out with those savage, villainous curs."  Hugen shook his head then placed both hands on his ears to drown out her bone chilling shrieks as she was viciously mauled.  "That day," he hissed, his voice distorted in rage, "something within me died along with her.  I could never be the same again."

"We all live for vengeance." Uyuk morosely concurred.

Hugen stared at him with narrowed eyes, not seeming to comprehend for a moment, and then nodded with understanding.  "We all have our own private hells that we carry within us."  His eyes brimmed with compassion.

"And what became of your uncle?  Or perhaps I shouldn’t presume to ask." Uyuk hastily probed, sensing the question forming on the other's tongue.

03- UYUK  (7)JP

 Uyuk quickly then passed the wine, diverting Hugen from inquiring too deeply into his own, dark past.

The utterance died with Hugen's shrug as he raised the jug to his lips and took several large mouthfuls.  His sleeve absorbed the overflow from his chin.  "He was killed at the ramparts, like the countless others who defended the besieged city.  Don't ask about the particulars.  After I came out of hiding, I recognized his partially charred, mutilated corpse in one of the piles outside the walls.  Wild dogs were scavenging his… tearing at the…"  Hugen stopped to take a shuddering breath; he forced two hard swallows to keep the bile from rising back up and then thrust the jug violently back into Uyuk’s hand.    Clutching his belly, he rubbed the muscles as he tried to erase the gruesome images from his mind.

"I heard that the ancient city Romkun, before Zakhertan Yozdek razed it, was a marvel to behold." Uyuk hastily interjected to draw Hugen out of his self-destructive absorption. 

Uyuk needed to know these things, and this was a rare opportunity he was determined not to pass up.   "More spectacular than any other city in the world, I understand." He further prodded.

"It certainly was." Hugen finally affirmed, grateful for the chance to be composed.  "You cannot imagine a more magnificent place.  The ingenious construction alone, stones fitted together without mortar, was a sure testament to our culture's greatness; more spectacular were the fountains, exquisite gardens with their variety of rare plants and flowers of all kinds, populated by colourful pullets that are now, unfortunately quite extinct. The sculpted reliefs on the stone bridges, the monumental buildings and belltowers with their golden cupolas in the clouds…  It was a paradise, I tell you, paradise!"

"It sounds magical, like no place on Earth." Uyuk nodded thoughtfully.

"Nothing comparable," Hugen confirmed, fires of memory blazing in his eyes.

"You are fortunate to have seen it."  In a brief afterthought, Uyuk pursed his lips and thought, but then, again, you have also endured the pain of having lost it all.”

"Oh, and the greatest library of all times," Hugen’s pupils flared as he suddenly recalled, “a magnificent structure several stories high it was, perched on a hill; thousand marble steps led up to the imposing carved ebony and iron door, flanked by giant, fearsome statues of mystical door gods. inside were the tall chambers and magnificent marble halls, illuminated with  crystal chandeliers that hung from high ceilings; walls decked with ancient paintings, tall tapestries with historical royal insignias (emblems, crests, badges) beside obsidian columns; and more importantly, wall to wall rosewood bookshelves, row upon row,  preserving stacks and stacks of irreplaceable scrolls, the accumulated volumes of the sages, world renowned works of the scholars and kings of bygone days and the amassed records of all religious doctrines.” Hugen, highly agitated now, chewed the corner of his lip.

A deep gasp and a longing sigh escaped Uyuk, as he with his imagination, envisioned the magnificent library in the ancient city of Romkun which unfortunately was now forever lost to posterity.

04- - ANCIENT  CITY ROMKUN,  IN KORION(52)jp

“Centuries of records, all incinerated, reduced to ashes and dust in the blink of an eye.” Hugen disregarding Uyuk, sullenly (morosely) lowered his head. “Though the city and the library have been rebuilt since, it can never measure up to its old glory."  Hugen looked away and grimly shook his head.  "How could it happen?  The ancient relics, the remarkable edifices are all gone for good.  Future generations are eternally cheated (deprived) from all that wealth of experience. Zakhertan Yozdek maliciously stripped (robbed) our land of its heritage and wickedly stole our glorious past.  There can be no greater sacrilege than that!  Damn him!  Damn him and his barbaric legions all to Hell!"  Seething in anger, Hugen pounded his bare fist on the wall, and then quickly drew it back as part of the decayed brickwork crumbled outwards to let the frigid night wind rush in.

"Hold on there, before you pull this hovel down around our ears." Uyuk hastened to calm him.  "We still have to spend the night here you know; and I don't relish the idea of sleeping in a drafty place and have my body whipped by those furious blasts of gale winds."  In a plaintive voice Uyuk grumbled, "I wish you'd learn to restrain that destructive temper of yours.  Or is this another devious means to force us to sleep outside?"  He winced (scowled) and thrust the jug back into Hugen's hand to curb the other’s pending angry retort.

Hugen was rather fond of wine, and Uyuk knew this.  What's more, he encouraged it.  Still, he was yet to see Hugen totally inebriated.  Unlike ordinary men, Hugen went through the first stages of intoxication like he was now but then, as he continued to consume more, he would gradually regain his senses and in a bizarre (twist) inverse state be, completely sober.  This inexplicable phenomenon intrigued, and at the same time challenged Uyuk's logical, scientific sensibility; and so, yet again he strove to alter the typical (usual) outcome.

A gust of wind just then blew the shutter back from the boarded-over window, letting in a (tongue of) lashing chilling wind.  Observing Uyuk's involuntary shiver, Hugen roared with laughter, slapping his thigh then reaching again for the jug to gulp more wine.  Just as Uyuk continued to test his capacity for spirits, Hugen enjoyed driving his partner's stamina to the edge of endurance.  "You are getting too soft in your old age." He snorted and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.  "Perhaps you should quit this line of work, find yourself a simpleton wife and stay in your farm, using your energies, to copulate.”

“Ha, ha!  I can see it now: a dozen half-naked brats, each one with your ugly face, crawling, squealing about the straw floor of your hovel!"  Hugen gave a mock shiver, "What a sight…… haa, ha!"

This time Uyuk could barely constrain his angry retort.  In the past it would have taken much less than this to cause him to fly off the handle, but it would hinder his (purpose) experiment if he were to now launch (initiate) a row.  Instead, he let Hugen's foul mouth run amok.  Gradually Hugen simmered down, having failed to provoke a fight.  Then he grew silent, and his eyelids dropped.

"So, what happened after your daring escape?"  Uyuk reached forward and put his hand on Hugen's shoulder.

"Daring escape?" Hugen shrugged off the hand with annoyance, but the jerking motion was too much for him.  He swayed, and his head began to swim.  Steadying himself against a pillar, he laughed wryly.  "Daring escape, indeed; but, for an eight-year-old I suppose it was." he shrugged.

"Well once clear of the city gates, I ran and ran, trying to get as fast and as far away, from it all. It was grim, I tell you.  There were still some pockets of residual fighting, death and destruction still going on, so during my flight I strove to be invisible.  But however far I ran, endlessly, the akin cruel vistas (scenes) stretched out before me: the maimed, mutilated, disemboweled, and contorted corpses lay about, littering the grounds like streamers after a parade had passed.  The earth was drenched in rivulets of dark crimson blood.  I don't know how many corpses I’d stumbled over during my flight…  And that stench!  The sickening stench was unbearable." Hugen swallowed hard and shuddered.

05- CARNAGE AT END OF WAR

"Eventually I was picked up by a scout and brought before His Highness' presence to give my account.  I did not hold back anything.  I related every gruesome detail, every ghastly event my young eyes had seen.  The act of putting it into words seemed to purge (cleanse) my heart and I told it all.  Later on, my report was corroborated by those few who’d been lucky enough to have escaped this ferocious persecution.  I can still remember the details of that day; this I came to know later still, how His Highness upon hearing the same horrific tales told by different individuals about their loved ones, had in private, shed copious tears over those profuse tragic losses.  He’d resolved right there and then, to resist Zakhertan Yozdek, 'that vindictive upstart', he'd called him, to the bitter end."

"But that didn't happen.  I mean, how could he resist?" Uyuk hastily interjected.

"Ignorant fool," Hugen fumed. "You presume too much!  Things are never what they seem.  I was there; I paid witness to it all.  I'll tell you what (actually) happened, how the great disaster was averted, albeit only temporarily.”

“Fortunately, the Minister of the Interior, Keko Wushing, had been so impressed by my determination and bearing before His Highness that, he took me under his wing.  I became an adopted son to him, unofficially, of course.  But then I digress” Hugen paused to relieve his parched throat and, from the corner of his eye, scrutinized Uyuk.

 “Why this sudden curiosity about past events (history); it surely cannot be merely to relieve the boredom of the night.  What do you hope to gain by all of this?  What dire motives do you harbor?”

Theirs was a strange and strained relationship at best.  Before undertaking the journey to Wenjenkun, Hugen had Uyuk completely checked out to confirm his reliability.  He cared little for the long, unblemished official record; he wanted his own facts, his own affirmation about the man himself.  Typically, his own sources had been more thorough than the Department's and had soon uncovered all there was to know about Uyuk, for instance, fact that he was born in Wenjenkun as Enkaz Dufo, and much more.  He saw no reason to dispose of agent Uyuk for his duplicity since his many talents, if properly handled, could still render valuable service to Korion (their nation).  He had argued this case, in fact, with the Department-head Nein Rejon, the only other operative to be let in on the secret and, eventually secured (won) his permission, in allowing Uyuk to carry on as before.

06-DEPARTMENT -HEAD NEIN REJON (2)

His superior Nein Rejon had conceded that Uyuk's rare talents and resourcefulness in those areas where it counted the most could not be underestimated and had therefore given Hugen full permission to use him. Additionally, Hugen had been entrusted with the responsibility of ensuring that Uyuk did not defect and, if that were to happen, he was further tasked with the responsibility of taking swift and decisive measures to limit the damage.  Hugen was to terminate the problem the instant before it occurred.  Hugen had noted then in Rejon's cold, blue eyes that extreme prejudice, and had understood that instant, how now that Uyuk's birthplace was known to the department, Uyuk from then on would have to overcome great obstacles just to maintain his present position.  He would always be considered an expendable outsider and one of the first to be a suspect, no matter how much he’d proven his worth and no matter the measure of his accrued successes.  In a way Hugen had almost pitied Uyuk but quickly hardened his heart and replaced it instead, with absolute impartiality (detachment) for in his line of work he could not well afford the luxury of attachments or emotions.  This was why Hugen had no close friends to speak of no family through which he could be undermined or wounded.  He had absolutely no special being, no vulnerability outside of his cold, formal working relationships.  Fiercely loyal, he lived and breathed only for the welfare of Korion, and one day he expected to forfeit his life for his Monarch as well. His thoughts once more reverted to Uyuk and he narrowed his eyes as he considered how, during (the course of) this mission he had succeeded in gradually worming his way deeper and deeper into Uyuk's confidence, all done with utmost care and cunning so as not to arouse Uyuk's suspicious nature.

Hugen had played right along, tolerating Uyuks’ eccentricities, it being sufficient to exploit Uyuk's stored up resentment, his prejudices and burning desire for vengeance; he’d also allowed Uyuk to believe that he was pretty much in control of his own destiny and that his most ambitious goal was indeed attainable in the not-too-distant future. Uyuk’s self-confidence was further bolstered as he firmly believed that he was the one tugging at the strings in this affiliation, instead of in fact being the one who was being underhandedly manipulated and toyed; till that is, the inevitable, ultimate lethal outcome to his existence. Uyuk being deemed a nuisance and an arrogant fool, putting up with him had not been by any means easy for Hugen, but so long as Uyuk remained above board, Hugen restrained his fury and remained equitable and deferred exterminating the annoying pest from Wenjenkun. Hugen knew, in the months ahead, Uyuk would be undertaking many other such perilous missions now that he’d been deemed expendable, and in most instances, he would be paired up with Hugen.  In time he would come to rely heavily and trust absolutely the partner who, always, held his life on a balance in his hand.

“How ironic…” Hugen looked down.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 14)

Saturday, 4 July 2026

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 12

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 12

Nevetsecnuac cursed his tardiness under his breath.  He had arrived too late to ascertain the purpose of this meeting.  Now he was as much in the dark as ever.

Just then however, at a signal from Zaur Stugr, a side door opened, and a cloaked figure emerged from it.  He walked up to the dais, bowed low, and then quickly removed his hood to expose his face.  When he spoke the unmistakable tone of the voice and the familiar accent gave Nevetsecnuac quite a start, for the man was most definitely Deizvor; one of the two armed sentinels, (under the command of Egil Viggoaries,) guarding the Cyprecox Pass, at the time Nevetsecnuac had fallen into the pit and got the key.

01-DEIZVOR (KOZUR MEMBER)

But why be surprised, Nevetsecnuac musing, shrugged.  In this duplicitous ethos (culture), this sort of milieu (situation) -that any one group of conspirators would be conspiring with the other-was to be expected.   He was nonetheless tad annoyed, as he now passionately believed that the pseudo agreeable Minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr, a highly respected official of the P.M. Lamont Gudaren’s, was in fact a hypocritical, shrewd (crafty) instigator, who all along had colluded with the Dark Eunuch Egil Viggoaries to undermine the P.M.

Nevetsecnuac was just then struck by the sudden, rapid change in Zaur's demeanor as the latter had listened on to Deizvor’s report; furthermore, the articulated contents must have been grave enough, for it had warranted Zaur's rapt attention. Unfortunately, Deizvor’s lowered tone made the rest of his exclamations inaudible from Nevetsecnuac's perched high point.  He could only just barely make out the ending, "both of them are now in custody, sir.  We shall not be hearing from Lieutenant Yennic again."

Could he be the same Lieutenant Yennic, who had been so familiar with the bearded Commander ZhadolNevetsecnuac, though he already knew the answer, inwardly queried. His brow subsequently furrowed, recalling the time in not-too-distant past, when he’d accidentally chanced on the two at the Cyprecox Pass and listening in, learned that Commander Zhadol was in fact one of the twelve members of Egil Viggoaries’s Inner Circle of the Black Molochs. Nevetsecnuac sideways wondered as he edged closer to catch the rest, if Zaur Stugr had known all along of the lieutenant Yennic’s perfidious liaison with the Commander Zhadol. He did not have to wait long however, as the answer was revealed in Zaur Stugr’s contrite (somewhat penitent) response:

"Too bad; he was a good recruit with real potential.  Still, it is most fortunate that, during this probation period, we had kept him at arm’s length." 

Zaur subsequently fell silent for a spell, musing, and then shook his head.  This time it had been a close call; still the lengthy and rigorously monitored test (probation) period for neophytes had once more proven invaluable. 

As it were, for the last seven years Zaur had implemented a new recruiting policy, which stated that anyone, whose association numbered less than five years, received their instructions, and made their reports to an anonymous third party until they were fully initiated into the Kozur Brotherhood. The law (of brotherhood) stipulated that if before this time, any greenhorns (novices) discovered the identity of their contact, or failed to maintain an impeccable record, their life would immediately be terminated (forfeited).  In this way, when the unthinkable happened, as in this case with Lieutenant Yennic, there would be no direct link up to the Kozurs. In the worst-case scenario where the limited, ersatz (bogus) connection would be discovered, as it had been designed to do- which was to run directly through the Prime Minister's offices, the so-called link being unsubstantiated, would lead to dead end, as well, throw any would-be investigators hopelessly off track.

Suddenly Zaur Stugr impatiently halted Deizvor' report and (acting on a hunch,) signaled for the spy to follow him into an adjacent room. 

Nevetsecnuac deducing the position of their destination sought a different vantage point; finding a small oval window typical of this style of architecture just under another set of eaves, with some effort silently forced it open a crack and then, proceeded to eavesdrop on them.

"Sir, I spotted these two quite by accident, on the outskirts of Yesunban in one of the rarely frequented alleys, after I had just concluded my report to Zihoxy Ner." Deizvor, standing stiffly beside the desk behind which Zaur was now comfortably seated in a plush chair, in a serious tone presently recounted.  He coughed slightly for the dramatic effect and then, added: "Intrigued by their odd behavior, I covertly dogged them for some time till they’d reached their presumed destination, which happened to be an old, abandoned granary on Inklimer Street. They snuck into the back alley and, forced entry into premise after removing some rotten boards.  I pursued them to inside as soon as the coast was clear and quickly spotted them in the corner, partially hidden behind some crates, gabbing in some foreign (alien tongue) language.  As luck would have it, they then switched into an ancient dialect of Korionese and, having a passing familiarity with that, I was able to make some sense of what was being said."

Zaur Stugr did not need to be reminded of Deizvor’ skill in numerous, diverse vernaculars, or his perfect memory, “Of course", he nodded impatiently, "now I want you to relay everything exactly as you heard it, word for word, omitting not even the most insignificant grunt.  Leave nothing unreported, understand?"

02- DEISVOR  (KOZUR) REPORTING

Deizvor nodded briskly and continued, "One of them was called Hugen and his companion was addressed as Uyuk.  The conversation (exchange) started innocuously enough when the one called Hugen touched the other's shoulder and asked, "But hey, a while back there when the night sentry caught us unawares and demanded our identities, you gave a different name than that you were instructed to give.  Why did you call yourself Kundrick Dufo?  Where on earth did that name come from?"

"The one called Uyuk abruptly looked right past Hugen; after spell of brooding over a seeming deep resentment he, then threw his head back and laughed bitterly, "It was a joke? Yes, it was a joke, a cruel joke!"  Brief time later however, he turned to affix his harsh gaze back on Hugen; Uyuk’s face now shone with dark malice as he absently caressed the ugly scar on his left cheek and snarled: "The executioner was just about to swing his ax when…" He abruptly held his tongue and shook his head.  "Fortunately, I was too young ..." Uyuk, after a brief hesitation, grunted; he followed it with some derisive mumble, which unfortunately was audible only to him."

Deizvor caught by the momentum of his recollections, presently took to re-enacting the spontaneous dialogue, complete with gestures. "A joke…" Hugen snapped back, obviously not having caught the rest of Uyuk's meanderings.

"Yes", Uyuk reverted to his defiant stare, "A joke."

"In a pig's eye," Hugen scoffed disdainfully then shook his threatening index finger in the other's face while he growled, "I don't particularly care to know the motive, Uyuk, but you can't go on changing the procedure on the spur per your whim.  Understand!”

“I'm in charge here."  Hugen shrugged and went over to seat himself on a broken crate.  "What if he'd asked to see your papers?  Your carelessness could have jeopardized our mission!"

Hugen’s brow furrowing crossly, he now barked at Uyuk, "I warn you; I'll have no more of your shenanigans (tomfoolery).  You hear?  This is a serious business…It’s bad enough that ugly scar of yours attracts far too much unwarranted attention."  Despite the harsh words his tone towards the end of his say had grown more conciliatory, even affectionate.

"Yeah", Uyuk bitterly retorted, "but it also makes us inconspicuous in the slums where it counts most.  Isn't that the reason why, they paired us off on this mission to begin with?  You do well in posh circles and with other such upstanding citizens whereas I blend in better with the maimed dissidents of the gutters, where most of our contacts are made.  If you ask me, I'm the indispensable one here."

As Deizvor related this interchange word for word, Nevetsecnuac had noted the augmented intensity (increased tension) in the taut muscles of Zaur Stugr's face ever since the name “Kundrick Dufo” had been mentioned. 

Nevetsecnuac's brows knitted as he searched his memory:  Kundrick…. Kundrick Dufo... Hmm…. where had he heard that name before?  Suddenly certain facts rushed to his mind:  Why of course, wasn't he the son of Sorgun Dufo, favorite tutor of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and furthermore, the very name that Heng Erling had chosen in his fabrication to give to the Commander-in-Chief of the fictitious insurgents?  Could it be a mere coincidence, or much more than that, Heng picked this name to give credence to his lie?  Was Kundrick Dufo really a conspirator, if he still existed, at all?  Even more interesting, how did a foreign spy get a hold of that name, and just where does Zaur Stugr fit in all of this?  Why should he be so clearly perturbed by the very mention of that person?  What immense (vast) significance did that name “Kundrick Dufo” held?

Nevetsecnuac's mind had further become inundated by an influx of queries as he studied more astutely now, Zaur Stugr’s present stone countenance.  He noted Zaur's sustained deliberate attempts to mask a raging inner conflict as he, instructed Deizvor to investigate the purpose (reason) for which Kundrick Dufo had been mentioned by the spy Uyuk.  The mounting complexity of his host's character further intrigued and same time exhilarated Nevetsecnuac.

Zaur Stugr had been utterly successful meanwhile, in concealing his range of emotions from Deizvor; while on the outset he pretended to be listening impassively to the laboriously detailed account, Zaur Stugr privately in fact had been mulling over, Nevetsecnuac’s akin (similar, alike) queries and concerns.  

Uyuk’s use of his (Zaur’s) true name, Kundrick Dufo…Could it be pure coincidence…  Hardly!  Zaur Stugr firmly refused that notion. Then out of the blue when the spy’s sentence: “A cruel joke,also came to mind, the truth at that juncture became absolutely apparent.

03- UYUK  (1)JP

So, the boy Enkaz had survived the terrible ordeal (punishment) after all!  With such bad blood coursing through his veins, was it any wonder he had turned to espionage?  Now he had become a traitor to Wenjenkun, working for the destruction of the country that, in his distorted perception had forsaken him, which happened to be precisely the time when, at the tender age of three, he’d been forced into exile.  The burn on the left cheek that’d later turned into an ugly scar, where once Enkaz Dufo, son of Minakoz Dufo had been tattooed as part of his punishment, was the very proof (evidence) which validated this viewpoint?

Then again, all this could well have been a bizarre coincidence. Zaur Stugr in desperate attempt to allay his worse fears, musing, looked away.  And first and foremost, more comprehensive, and irrefutable evidence (proof) must be attained (secured).  Having decided thus, Zaur once again directed his full attention back to Deizvor.

"As anticipated, it was not long before their contact appeared on the scene.  He was an exceptionally tall man and sturdily built but the cloak and mask he wore for concealment and the fact that he spoke but sparingly, made identifying him difficult.  From the way he moved however, I don't know just how to put this, but there was something rather familiar about his gestures."  Deizvor mumbled the last part as he gesticulated (physically demonstrated) the movements.

When Zaur Stugr knitted his brows, frowning in displeasure, a flustered Deizvor strove even harder, to identify the masked, tall, robust spy, as if his very life depended on it.  After a painful pause however, he had to confess, "Unfortunately, sir, it still eludes (escapes) me."

"Never mind, it will come to you sooner or later." Zaur cut him off.  "Continue with the events themselves."  In truth, the contact's impersonated (imitated) gestures, did evoke (conjured up) in Zaur’s mind a certain familiarity also, but just like Deizvor, he too, could not rightly place it.

"Anyhow", Deizvor politely coughed (covering his mouth with his hand) to clear his suddenly dry throat, "I eased myself closer to hear their conversation with perfect clarity only to have the contact switch, as if by innate caveat (instinctive caution), into that other, indecipherable dialect the two spies first used."

"Are you sure your presence had not been detected?  Could it be that they were (actually) feeding you misinformation?"  There was a solid note of concern in Zaur's stern voice.

Nevetsecnuac perceived just then a slight ripple of shudder that run through Deizvor as he, very much disconcerted, presently lowered his head to pause in thought.  After a brief spell, he shook his head and swallowing hard, answered: "No, there was no such indication.  Of that I am most definitely certain."

 

(END OF SECTION 12)  

Tuesday, 30 June 2026

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 11

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 11

                                           

Back at the Under-Secretary Lenny Sukzor’s private residence, for a long while sleep had averted the intrepid Minister; lying awake in deep contemplation, Lenny’s stare had been for some time now affixed (glued, set) on the canopy of his four-poster bed. Incessantly his eyes (pupils) traced each cleverly executed embroidery, woven so colorfully yet mockingly beautiful, depicting patterns of marital fidelity and family’ loyalty, that of which now taunted him with their lies.

01- -LENNY SUKZOR (12)JP

Their creator, his wife Juyin, was as beautiful as she was talented and, if the truth were to be known, he had loved her deeply from the first moment he had set eyes on her.  Despite his present denial, despite all that had since come between them he was still enamored of her. He still treasured every moment they spent together and warmed in the ecstasy, the pure, unadulterated joy she infused down into the very cockles of his heart.

On this night of all nights, he longed to embrace her, to pretend that all was simple and good between them, but his adored wife was not where he desired her to be. She was not in bed beside him. The moment he had feigned sleep, Juyin had snuck away.  Extending his hand, he felt the residual warmth of the mattress. His brows knitted as he turned to his side and (smelled) smelt her perfume still lingering on the pillows and sheets.

02-JUYIN SUKZOR (1).pngJP

He had known of her recruitment from the very start. Until this major incursion he had boasted with impunity how he had kept his household clear of spies but on that day when he had received certain confirmation his anger had welled up intolerably in his chest.  He had conjured up thousands of tortures to pay her back for this ultimate betrayal.

It mattered little that she had most certainly been (coerced) forced into carrying out her actions, if she had been truly loyal, she would have taken her own life rather than submit to the course that was imposed on her.  He had even considered disposing of this viper nestled in his bosom, by administering a slow-acting poison that mimicked “Breakbone Fever”, killing her with long, lingering, excruciating pain.  Then the anger and disappointment had subsided to rest deep within his marrow, and he’d reasoned in a cool, dispassionate way that, he was being too idealistic, and, even if he’d disposed of her, another would be planted in her stead, one who might be far harder to detect.

Subsequently, with things seemingly remaining as they were, Juyin was only given to convey the certain information that Lenny wished for Zakhertan Yozdek to know.

03- JUYIN SUKZOR (6)JP

Even with the apparent benefits of having this direct link (contact) to the Sovereign, he had to argue his case long and hard before Egil Viggoaries and, had endured the lasting humiliation of being verbally, virtually cuckolded in front of his brothers and peers, in order to merely win the continuance of her life for just a while longer before her eventual and certain, sentence to a painful and ignominious death (demise). For nothing less, would satisfy Egil Viggories. The Dark Eunuch Egil, his superior, had so many varied ways to inflict pain and humiliation on a being, and after filling Lenny’s ear with it, each time Lenny had felt wronged by her, like tonight, overriding his mixed emotions, his imagination simply ran rampant with the many possibilities of her imminent, dire punishments.

“Oh, what is the use of tormenting my-self?  That day will come soon enough!” Lenny Sukzor quickly shunted these thoughts aside.

“Better to think of something more to the point, like Dwengzur, for instance. Where has he gotten himself to?”  Inwardly Lenny Sukzor reviewed the same, haunting questions. He had asked discreetly about but none knew of the Immortal's whereabouts since the last assassination attempt on His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek. It was as though Dwengzur had vanished into thin air. The wizard's disappearance without a trace, though not out of character, the long duration (timespan) of it, had baffled everyone.  Of course, the usual rumors circulated, some even reaching the status of a plausible hypothesis, but Lenny had not given any of them much credence.

“Or maybe he’d returned to whence he came...Korion.” Lenny Sukzor, at present, speculated.  He had his certain reservations about Dwengzur from the very start, yet that night, he had been constrained by Egil Viggoaries's bidding to allow Dwengzur to penetrate his deepest most innermost thoughts, in the demonstration.

“If he had retrieved my most confidential stance (position, perspective) he had not let on, had not disclosed the one most damaging fact that would have spelled my immediate doom.  Moreover, he could have extorted me, to secure his silence.” Lenny, thinking back, now pondered on the concern once more.

04- DWENGZUR (AS lENNY REMEMBERS)

Lenny also recalled the fleeting, knowing smile and the Immortal’s perfunctory reaction had been, when the opportunity had finally availed itself for Lenny, to broach this most delicate subject in privacy with him. Dwengzur had curtly declared that he was not at all interested in the politics of Wenjenkun, or of Korion for that matter.  His manner, at the time, had indicated that he had a far greater purpose in mind. Of course, that purpose had since become clear, after the last assassination attempt on Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek.

 Dwengzur had established himself at Court solely to apprehend one of his own!

“Perhaps the hoary legends of this red-haired race were true after all?”  Lenny nodded absently.

Just then Lenny Sukzor was startled from his reverie by the faint sounds of footpads in the hall.  The door handle slid against the latch.  He lay perfectly still in mimed slumber as she crept inside, quickly disrobed and slipped between the covers. She sniffed. “Was she crying?” 

Lenny longed to turn to her, clasp her to his heart and tell her that it was all right, that come what may, he would protect her in the end, but he knew that it would be a veil of lies that would only soothe his conscience temporarily.  He lay like a stone statue, cold and unmoving as her warm body snuggled next to his and she buried her head under the covers.

“Blessed sleep will overtake you soon, my love, and then you will find the solace you seek.  Or will you? Will the nightmare of your betrayal haunt your peace even then?”  Lenny Sukzor cursed himself, cursed his ambition, and cursed the times and everything else that kept him apart from his heart's desire (urgings). Soon, out of sheer emotional exhaustion he, too, was impervious (unreceptive, as he was asleep) to the stirrings of the night.

 

                                                                                  ~

 

In the dead of night an unusual thud had abruptly and with a start awakened Nevetsecnuac; but now all seemed deathly still in semi-darkness. Just then however, his ears detected (picked up) another slight thump. There it was again. This was followed by a faint rustling of leaves and then a crunching sound.

This very night being exceptionally hot and humid, to gain some relief Nevetsecnuac had left the windows wide open; a slight breeze moved the curtains aside at that point in time to expose the culprit crouched in a corner of the windowsill, but he scurried off, frightened by the minute disturbance in the room.  A fleeting smile brushed Nevetsecnuac’s lips as he rubbed his eyes and then languidly (indolently) surveyed the room.  Why had he slept so long? He had only meant to doze off for a few minutes, just long enough to fool that busybody steward!

He reached for the empty cup by his bedside and examined it. His nose creased having at once picked up the faint but distinct odor that anyone else might have easily missed.  Earlier on, alerted by the steward's uncharacteristic insistence, he had had only a sip before slyly giving most of it to the resident cat that, of late, had taken to sleeping in Nevetsecnuac's room.

05- SLEEPING CAT

The feline was now sprawled at the foot of the bed, (out cold) dead to the world. Nevetsecnuac’s keen ears at that moment having picked up yet another suspicious sound, this time from the hallway, Nevetsecnuac swiftly shoved the drugged feline under the bed where she could recover from her misfortune without alerting the staff to her state. 

Nevetsecnuac then returned to bed and slipped under the covers to feign sleep just in time, when suddenly, the door creaked open, and someone tiptoed into the room.  Nevetsecnuac distinctly (became aware) felt, the change in airflow as the bedcurtains were parted and then the hot breath of someone bending over him as if to assure himself that Fradel Rurik Korvald was, as he should be, in deepest slumber. Once this had been ascertained the intruder walked over and shut the window, locked it, and pulled those curtains tightly together; he next reached over to the night table and picked up the incriminating cup.  Afterwards, just as silently he exited the room and closed the door behind him.

"Go to bed." Nevetsecnuac heard the hushed command at outside.  "There's nothing more to be done here. He will be sound asleep until the morning."  The sounds of their reassured footfalls gradually muted down the length of the hallway.

The evidence now gone, Nevetsecnuac bit put out, bolted upright in sitting position in bed.

 What warranted this precaution?

He had been intentionally, for an unknown reason, drugged to be rendered incapacitated. If it had been a foe, he would have certainly used this opportunity to finish him off.  His suspicions all the same aroused, Nevetsecnuac pushed the covers aside and quietly got out of the bed; after he changed into dark garments he walked over and pressed his ear to the door.

“Good!”  Nevetsecnuac exhaled deeply, knowing full well the sentry and the night attendants had all left; not a soul stirred at the hallway’s extended (comprehensive) perimeter, therefore, it was now perfectly safe for him to exit the room and (scout) reconnoitre the grounds. Having already conceived the notion, just what and where the main action- the covert meeting might transpire, Nevetsecnuac once at the outside, advanced stealthily and vigilantly through the pathways, for under the canopy of winking stars and the full moon’s silver rays the checkered grounds were perfectly (completely)illuminated.

Nevetsecnuac persistently then stuck to the right, his silent steps traversing (going forward) without hesitation on the snaking flagstone trails that would eventually around the bend, disappear behind the manufactured mountain. 

06- GROUNDS AT NIGHT

He crossed several small walking bridges that hopped over bubbling brooks and streams of diverse sizes and depths, taking care all the while to be swallowed up by the shadows to avoid detection by the increased number of security patrols that were out and about this very night, dutifully scouring that segment of the complex.

At one point, Nevetsecnuac had been constrained to wait in concealment as two groups of guards met midpoint and shared some bits of idle gossip before resuming their rounds. Soon as the coast was clear, Nevetsecnuac quickly skirted the heart shaped pool filled with golden carp sparkling in the moonlit water and delved into a thick pine grove to avoid the next cordon (barrier, blockade) of guards. Following the thin meandering gravel path, he quickly emerged at its far side in the forbidden section and headed straight towards the location of Zaur's secret office. 

Surprisingly however, the wing was just as dark and perfectly quiet. Nevetsecnuac climbed up the unusually tall trellis, covered with lush green vines (decked bluebell flowers), which was on the shaded side of the building, to reach the apex of the roof and then to survey the grounds from there.  Just as he was about to reach the peak (top), he noticed some ways off down below, a faint, quivering sliver of light blinking behind the iron shutters of an oblong window tucked under the eaves of a solid structure (building), nestled in the thick bamboo grove, in the most ancient part of the mansion.

His senses on the alert Nevetsecnuac crept stealthily towards it, as his determination to unravel this newest duplicity of Zaur's, wounded itself tighter and tighter into his will. Once there and perched under the eaves like a bat, he peered through the narrow slit that was his only view into the room and, strained his ears to make out what was being said. Despite the deceptively small proportions of the structure on the outside, the hall within was in fact spacious and, elongated away from his viewpoint, it comfortably (assembled) accommodated   some twenty or thirty stout (robust, sturdy) cloaked men. 

Nevetsecnuac quickly comprehended from their various accents that these were the sectional leaders, congregated here from the various, far-flung reaches of Wenjenkun.  He had to marvel at the apparent scope (extent, reach) of this secret organization and the strict discipline to which masked members unquestioningly adhered.  With keen interest he observed how they all moved as if one body to reverently face the alter and, as Zaur Stugr stood off to one side, swore the ancient oath of allegiance as if with one multi-toned voice, renewing their bond to the Brotherhood.

The ceremony ended in a bloody ritual sacrifice after which the cloaked figures, in a steady stream in which their positions were obviously dictated by differences in rank or seniority, exited the hall through a hidden tunnel.

 

(END OF SECTION 11)

 

 

Sunday, 26 April 2026

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE CAPITAL CHANNING – SECTION 9

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE CAPITAL CHANNING – SECTION 9 

 Nevetsecnuac, having decided to meet Zaur halfway then, more clearly proceeded to solicit (request) Zaur Stugr's help, "If it would not be too much of an imposition (trouble) Minister Stugr, perhaps you could entrust it to the proper authorities so that, in keeping with my promise to Yakkasar, it may be returned to the pit in question.  I would be most appreciative if you would inform me also of the further developments, especially ones leading to resolving this rather intriguing (fascinating) mystery."

Expressing moderate curiosity, Zaur Stugr graciously accepted the task of handling this trivial matter at his earliest convenience. 


01 ZAUR STUGR JP 12

"And perhaps there may be other historical artifacts that would be of importance, warranting excavation at the site." he smiled mischievously. Then as if in an afterthought, Zaur gravely added, "Of course this province is riddled with many such graves and pits of varying sizes, containing skeletons, corpses of indicted dissidents, cadaver of convicts and traitors, whom all of course, richly deserved their ill fate.”

“In any case best to be prudent, with this investigation and in enlisting help. Then there is the requirement for a permit, which I must attain, from the works department. But I may need more data…”   He abruptly looked up at Fradel.

After a seeming hesitancy and purposeful pause, proclaiming that he needed this in case the authorities questioned him on it, Zaur urged Fradel Rurik Korvald to jog his memory about the specifics of the topography or any other identifying landmarks in the vicinity of the pass which may assist in quicker resolve or at least, an educated guess as to its location.

Fradel agreed to this, with a lowered head, pretended to be lost in deep thought for a time, presumably jogging his memory.

 Zaur (with a puckered brow) grimacing, studied Fradel for a moment; then with an affable tone, introduced a suggestion. "This may help; from the details you've offered already, I've deduced that it could be Kneco, Cyprecox, or Yeruz Pass."

Nevetsecnuac pretending to have just then recollected some pertinent facts, cried out, " Yes, that's it, the very one. I remember now.  It was the Cyprecox Pass that Yakkasar was headed for.  Though he did refer to Kneco Pass, it was at a different time and in an entirely unrelated context."

"Now you're quite certain about this?" Zaur studied Fradel with concealed anxiety.

"Quite certain," Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) reaffirmed then, pretending that he'd remembered more of what Yakkasar had told him, readily volunteered (furnished) more specifics (details) regarding the location, much to Zaur's satisfaction.

"Well, this night's conversation has been quite dynamic and rather fruitful (productive).  Thank you for presenting me with this most intriguing opportunity; I'll do all that I can to resolve this mystery for you." Zaur Stugr promised earnestly, quickly dismissing Fradel’s uttered, profuse gratitude.

Smiling affably, he then begged Fradel's indulgence and patience, cautioning the scholar not to get his hopes up too high, for the truth once uncovered, might not be as enriching or colorful as supposed (or imagined).

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) politely yawned to express his fatigue, and then quickly proposed (suggested) that they should retire for the night.

Finding this most agreeable, Zaur signaled for the servant in attendance, to have the repast be cleared soon as they left; after which he solicitously (ushered) escorted Fradel to his sleeping quarters, before retiring himself to his own suite.

                                                                                               ~

Short time later, when all were tucked and happily sleeping under their warm quilts, Zaur Stugr quietly rose from his bed and going over, retrieved a small flagon (flask) he kept in the second drawer of the night table. Removing the seal, he gulped (ingested), enough of the special tonic, which quickly (in a short span) deleted the ill effects of excessive drinking and restored one’s full faculties.  Zaur next, taking special care not to wake any of his personal servants, washed his face, swiftly changed his clothes and quietly snuck outside.


02- ZAUR STUGR

Though Nevetsecnuac's speculation had come exceedingly close to the truth, he could not have imagined the depth of gravity that this key had held for Zaur Stugr.

Zaur, very much sobered now by his pumping adrenaline, held out a small oil lamp before him to illuminate the way, as he hastily proceeded with determined steps through a maze of hallways and garden paths.  Eventually he arrived at the old study on the far side of the East wing.

The wing had been sealed off ever since Kokone Iver, the previous owner's beloved third concubine committed suicide after being sexually assaulted (violated, raped) by one of, Rujune Iver’s esteemed house guests.  The strange gruesome apparition who had persistently haunted (appeared in) the hallways after her tragic demise, was attributed to her restless, unavenged spirit.

The perpetrator guest rapist, called Lord Nirekel Konuer, had at the time been far too powerful and too well connected to the higher officials; and so, despite Rujune Iver's efforts to bring him to justice, he had escaped punishment.

The subsequent grave rift that had existed as consequence, between Rujune Iver and Lord Nirekel Konuer, had outlasted the culprit Nirekel’s eventual horrific demise from a mysterious, sudden ailment.

 The hostility between the Konuer and Iver Clans had in due course, fostered some violent repercussions; especially since, the rumors concerning Rujune’s visits to a famous shaman in the workers' quarters, and this having something to do with Lord Nirekel’s sudden, macabre death, had persisted for many a year. And despite the absence of any solid evidence, the incidences of savage retributions, the bloodshed continued (to rock the Capital) for quite some length of time to eventually die down. 

But not before Rujune Iver, having been persecuted unmercifully by Lord Nirekel Konuer's ardent cliques, had eventually lost the favor he had at court and, having been subsequently charged with treason, suffered the extreme death penalty.  Unfortunately, this had meant the extinction of his entire clan, including his wife and concubines as well as, all the family's property (estate) being confiscated by the state.  Yet, because of the purported haunting of the East wing, this otherwise exceptional mansion in the heart of the Capital had remained unsold and untenanted (vacant).

Zaur was only a minor official but one with promising future at that time and had just been transferred to a more lucrative posting in the Capital.  Not being superstitious in the least and assured that no senior official wanted the property, he was quick to seize this opportunity and procure Rujune Iver’s magnificent mansion for an affordable price.  Seeing that it was to his advantage to continue, the purported belief in the haunting Zaur gave outward credence to the stories and sealed off the East wing, declaring it off limits to everyone and all his staff.


03-GHOST Kokone Iver  IN THE EAST WING

Then covertly engaging trusted workmen, he had a secret tunnel constructed directly into the unused wing from a niche in the outer wall.  Zaur Stugr’s planning and vigilance had paid off and, unknown to his family and staff, he henceforth had conducted all clandestine matters on these premises.

For over five years now, with none the wiser to the comings and goings, he had been able to establish a vast underground web of alliance and intrigue that had escaped all detection.  This was no small feat for the Sovereign possessed an elite and very effective Secret Police (as well as, the ruthless Black Band Guard Regiment) in addition to the rival spy networks established by Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and Minister of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries (also affiliated with The Black Molochs).

Halting before a tall, green door Minister Zaur Stugr thumbed the keys at his belt and, finding the right one, inhaled deeply to steady him-self before he turned it in the lock.  Lifting the latch, he opened the door softly.  Only the rush of air leaving the room disturbed the quiet of the night.  Stepping inside, his eyes briefly perused the rare antiquities that adorned the shelves, the countless valuable scrolls that were housed in specially constructed wall units that took up two walls all on their own, the plush sofa off in the corner and the desk with its neat pile of documents awaiting his decisions.  Things were exactly as he had left them.  Reassured, he turned and bolted the door behind him. He walked over the desk and opening the top drawer took out the certain (booby trapped) letter his agent Kaelan had delivered to him a week before Fradel Rurik Korvald’s arrival.

He’d been so burdened (engaged) playing host to illustrious scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald in addition to his other Ministerial duties that he had deferred this matter till later time. In truth he was still undecided about what to do about the letter (whom his agent had retrieved from the dead body of the doomed courier Disaidun Agripe otherwise known as Miss Jepipi), which had been the source of Lord Shouzi Yozdek’s blackmail for about two years by The Black Molochs.

Zaur could not help smiling, knowing how infuriated Egil Viggoaries must have been, when word reached him that the letter had been lost to him.  How many must have suffered consequently.

“Unfortunately, the plan had not gone as well as he’d anticipated; for Zunrogo Tugo was still alive and well… Hmm, the cur must have found out about the switch and kept it quiet. “

“Oh well you can’t win them all.”  Zaur shrugged.

“As for the letter…” Zaur shook his head. “It can wait.”  Unfortunately, at present he was too pressed for time to deal with this, when other more pressing matters (issues) and tasks demanded his attention first; and so, he quickly put it back in the top drawer and closed it.

Advancing with deliberate strides, he veered around the long, ornate desk until he reached a specific wall unit on the far wall.

 Holding up the oil lamp, he pulled out one specific scroll and placed it on the desk.  Then, putting his hand into the slot from which he had retrieved the document, he applied a firm pressure with his index finger to a groove in the lower left corner of the exposed wall.  Immediately the entire wall slid noiselessly aside to expose a hidden room behind.

Air tinged with musk rushed out at once to assail his nostrils as pitch darkness greeted his eyes.  Crinkling up his nose, Zaur shook his head.  He had not been in this room for some time and due to obvious neglect, everything was shrouded in an inch deep snow of dust that now whirled about, stirred by the air from the outer study.

“First thing tomorrow I must have Zyerne clean this place up.  This disorder is inexcusable.”

For now, the space was in immediate need of ventilation.  He looked around in the lamplight at the mass of volumes packed up all the walls until he spied on one small window high up next to the ceiling, hidden from the outside by a set of elaborate eaves.

 Striding over, he positioned a sturdy chair beneath the aperture and pried the shutter open just a crack, just enough to let in the fresh air he needed to relieve his lungs of this (ever-present) invasive constriction.  He winced as he reflected how this hidden room had been designed by the long dead original architect more like a vault of an elaborate tomb than a study.  Its purpose had been obvious but, incredibly, Rujune Iver’s demise had come too fast for him to have made use of its contents to his own advantage.  Fortunately for Zaur, these carefully catalogued documents, containing amassed evidence against the most prominent (noble, patrician) aristocratic families and the vast reserve of valuables and cash secreted in this room, had escaped detection by the court's investigators when the property had been confiscated (impounded) by the state.  With his analytical mind, keen sense, and deductive reasoning, Zaur Stugr had been the only one to, shortly after acquiring the property; discover this invaluable chamber's existence.

Stepping down, he walked back to the entrance.  From there he took the familiar measured paces, first straight ahead, then to the left, and then to the right then again left.

About five years ago, he had further discovered several vaults, each laden with cache (stockpiles, hoards) of gold, silver, and jewels, beneath the ingeniously designed, geometric marble- flooring. 

Depending on the combination of serious of consecutive (successive) steps and the pressure put on by one’s own weight, the specific squire floor tile would rise and then move aside to reveal an opening with the descending stairs leading to that specific vault’s contents. 

Right now, however, he was only after one of his own constructions.

Squatting, he placed the lamp off to one side, loosened the specific floor tile with his bare hands, lifted it and dug out a slightly tarnished metal box from its hiding place.  Meticulously, he brushed the dust from it then, with trembling hands, positioned his newly acquired bejeweled key over the keyhole on the box's side.

Suddenly his heart was seized with apprehension.  What if this key's construction was merely a bizarre coincidence?  What if it did not match this box at all?” 

In the past he had attempted everything he could think of to open this unyielding encasement but without the least bit of success.  The unusual metal, the design and construction of the box had resisted any attempt at tampering with it. 

He exhaled, “Well, there's only one way to find out.”

With certain determination he placed the key into the hole, and, to his great elation, it turned, moving long unused tumblers inside the locking mechanism.  His heart pounded wildly.  At long last it was now within his means to uncover the secret long buried within! 

But then he hesitated, and his expression gradually hardened to mirror his troubled thoughts.

“What if now, after all this time…,” dejectedly he shook his head. 

“Anyhow, what good would it do?”  In his mind's eye he could see the accusing finger stubbornly pointed at him and at the same time a strong sense of foreboding gripped his heart.

“No!  Right or wrong, I could not have confided in Sanzo.  Not after the disclaimer.”

Eventually he picked up the lamp and, rising to his feet once more with the box in his other hand, walked over and sat down (sunk his body) on the plush sofa by the desk.  Absently he stared at the box for some time, affectionately caressing it, letting his fingers trace out the curved indentations which mimicked exactly the design of the key.  He noted how, in one corner they were scaled exactly to the size of the key. “Odd,” he mused, “it’s as if there's a purpose to it.”

 Struck by a sudden intuition, he took the key from the lock and placed it sideways on against the corner, noting how it fit snugly into the carved design.  Inside the box more tumblers moved.

“So, there was a disarming mechanism as well.”  Zaur Stugr was glad he had not rushed to open the obvious booby-trapped box.

A sad, aggrieved (wounded, pained, hurt) expression just then took hold of his features.

“It’s been so long, so very long!”

(END OF SECTION 9)