11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 3

  

“Was that it? Was that the end of it?”  Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek placed the last of the reports onto the stack and leaned back to stretch out his limbs. A slight nod brought his ever vigilant and trusted aide Neru forward at once to pick up the key and the stack that Zakhertan had set aside on his desk. Neru then took the documents to a large metal vault where they were locked up for future reference. The key was returned to His Highness to join the others dangling from the Sovereign's belt. 

The second stack by far the larger contained the reports that were deemed to be trivial, uninteresting, or expendable and it was on these that Neru next set to work, tearing them into fine bits and then feeding them to the flames within a large brazier, specifically designed to reduce any remnant to cinders. 

 

01-NERU

Each night’s routine was the same; at an unspecified hour Zakhertan Yozdek, pending no unforeseen crisis or upset, would set aside some time to peruse all the crucial documents submitted by The Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren, other officials, as well as the reports from Internal Security. Through his special branch of moles, Zakhertan had continually kept apace of the activities of his Ministers, Provincial Governors, Generals as well as his own personal retinue and family, within his realm. No one eluded, evaded, shunned, averted, or circumvented his scrutiny, not even hermits, or the recluse of scholars, such as Fradel Rurik Korvald. 

Zakhertan Yozdek had always lived by two unassailable adages: one was to be vigilant in concealing least sign of weakness from all; the second was to never rely on or place absolute confidence in anything or anyone. A measure of confidence could be shown outwardly but never acted on or believed inwardly. 

History was riddled with examples of Sovereigns ruined through treachery by the, oftentimes a most trusted vassals; Zakhertan Yozdek therefore had always endorsed the principle (criterion) that to persevere, no minister, priest, general or Prince of the realm should ever exceed, in the open or in secret, in any one of the areas of power, influence, acumen, awe and reverence, held in the person of the Sovereign.   

The two stacks swiftly dealt with, Zakhertan presently turned his attention to the third bundle and picked up the top envelope, broke open the seal, removed the document within, and read it carefully.  These detailed accounts were submitted by an indomitable, invisible Shadow Brigade (division of Black Band Guard Regiment), whose sole purpose was to monitor the Censors, informants and spies themselves. This dual system of surveillance had served Zakhertan Yozdek well thus far; hence, he had kept close tabs on all within his kingdom, and yet at the same time was afforded a measure of truth sufficient to appease his suspicious nature. As it were, the only cliques Zakhertan had allowed to exist in his dominion were those that he easily manipulated; and periodically, he did enjoy at being their puppeteer and making them do his bidding. 

Moreover, far from employing only the most servile of vassals, the civil and military courts had been staffed with men, all as ruthless as wolves or tigers and more cunning than vipers and foxes. These specially picked individuals acted like vultures, doing very much more than their duty prescribed, yet nevertheless they were very much cowed and succumbed to Zakhertan 's every whim. This effect had been achieved through incessant pressure, unrelenting fear, and artful manipulation; actually, he respected those most that had been the hardest to break. Individuals that posed the greatest menace were the ones he kept at closest proximity; constantly monitored, for any nuance (hint) of seditious activity; they were in the truest sense of the word, only a hairsbreadth away from the executioner's blade. Their already perilous existence was moreover tested by periodic rumors that accused one or the other of subversion against Sovereign or The Wenjenkun Nation. This was not done merely to keep them toeing the line or to incessantly feed Zakhertan’s rapacious sadistic nature but to accurately gauge the rest’s true disposition towards that individual or perceived incidence (occurrence). 

Unfortunately, too seldom for Zakhertan’s liking, one would advance an idea or theory he knew it to be unsound; akin to a beast toying with its prey before the killing stroke, Zakhertan would then pretend to be taken in, merely to see how far the dupe would go; he would subsequently, delight in making veritable mincemeat of the fool.   

Conversely, every so often he would refute a valid suggestion by, one of his generals, courtiers or other and, advance plausible yet purposefully flawed viewpoints. As these events occurred between long bouts of predictable stability, Sovereign Zakhertan was able to appear even to his liegemen, as elusive and cryptic. 

02-ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (40) JP

Two decades now, he had maintained his unbounded, omnipotent rule; his subjects (firmly) believing that all under Heaven was his personal domain (including nations that were under his suzerainty) and that, all his decrees and proclamations were the mandates of Gods.  

After all this time, could he finally relax his vigilance? Could he dare be complacent? He absolutely could not; must not, not for a single moment. Zakhertan through clenched teeth quickly answered his inner query; his tight fist eased as anger slowly, gradually ebbed. Yes, he had maintained his iron hold on the realm (kingdom) thus far but in the deep recesses of his heart Zakhertan had of course known, the futility of it all.  

A Sovereign may subjugate most of his subjects with impunity, govern his vassal's bodies and outward acts, and even sway or manipulate their minds to some degree but there would always be one who would prove to be an exception to the rule who could slip through the controlling net, or escape it entirely.  There would emerge some renegade, a folk hero or martyr who would stoke the smoldering ashes of dissent into a spark that would ignite the searing flames that would scorch the whole Kingdom bare. If that is, he was not snuffed out, right at the start.  

Zakhertan inclined his head to stare absently out the window at the artificially illuminated garden, layer upon exquisite layer of floral beauty; his mind perfectly composed, his face wearing an emotionless mask of serenity. Misleadingly, he inwardly was in fact, taking meticulous stock of his most recent and severest measures, which as a rule incorporated further stringent laws and their equally brutal punishments, to determine if they would suffice to rout-out or curb the latest, anticipated, impending trouble.  

Moreover, the ’Divide and conquer’ strategy had consistently proven to be a most effective policy. His thoughts veered (turned) to past recourse that warranted akin to action. He may employ it again: First, his subjects were led to believe that he, Zakhertan Yozdek, was (ostensibly) by far the most generous Sovereign, rewarding meretricious acts as handsomely as he was severe in his punishments. But then, Zakhertan mischievously grimaced, reflecting quietly on how, every now and then, he unexpectedly rewarded an individual or an official or two for no apparent reason, to sow discord, disconcert or perturb others.  

Eventually the targeted individuals became estranged from their friends, colleagues, and family. Thoroughly demoralized and seeking only to safeguard their own hide, the seeds of treachery would easily then be planted in them, to be harvested in future. Zakhertan by manipulating the most basic emotions of insecurity and mistrust, of any individual or a group, albeit powerful and influential, those pegged troublemakers were then, easily and without fail got purged (eradicated). 

In his youth Zakhertan Yozdek had avidly studied history and learned from its mistakes; subsequently, as a monarch, he had never failed to utilize timely measures and inject acute fear into the hearts and minds of all likely (budding) dissenters, way before trouble manifested. Through artful manipulation he had also fostered the belief in his subjects that he, their omnipotent Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek, was all seeing, all hearing. That nothing, however trivial or inconsequential, escaped his attention. One of the means with which Zakhertan had achieved this end was, by engaging Censors, which conducted semiannual tours of the countryside. The sole purpose of these mobile forces was to check on the performance of the Provincial and Military Governors and Magistrates, and Tribunes. Demotions, promotions, rewards, and reprisals were all dependent on the outcome of 

Censors’ report. Of course, the concept of Censorate had been created during the reign of 

Sovereign Zuronghan Therran Valamir. This Censorate predecessor was vastly different from Zakhertan’s incarnation however, for one thing the Censors of old Dynasty were appointed from the ranks of the Nobility, Military, Bureaucracy, or Intelligentsia equally. The sole purpose of the Censorate had been to keep all officials, high and low, under strict surveillance and report any wrongdoing or illicit activity to their Liege and in this capacity, Censors were empowered to criticize, if needs be, even the Sovereign. Although they had little direct political power, they were not constrained to divulge their sources of information even to the highest authority and, for their fifteen-year term, they were immune to criticism or punishment for their actions. The granting of these liberties, as well as their proximity to the ear of the ruler, had left ample room for corruption, and these posts invariably had left their holders wealthy and influential beyond measure. The deficiencies of this system were never given the chance to correct themselves before the overthrow of Sovereign Zuronghan Therran Valamir, and it was Zakhertan who took this branch of the bureaucracy and reshaped it into its present form. In the revised version, Censorate officials were now appointed solely by Zakhertan  Yozdek for seven year terms and, unlike their forerunners, they could be indicted, subjected to interrogation, including torture and, if found guilty, they and their families would be punished twice as harshly as anyone in a normal position.  

More importantly, they were prohibited from ever criticizing present Sovereign  

Zakhertan’s policies; memorials of this kind having been prohibited ever since Zakhertan Yozdek had assumed (usurped) the throne. On demand Censors were expected to produce their evidence, sources and all pertinent information to the Sovereign's special staff who would, in turn, present it for Zakhertan Yozdek’s final analysis and judgment. Meanwhile, the identities of these officials were kept a closely guarded secret, known only to the Emperor, the Shadow Brigade and one other, Senior Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund. Each Censor was identified on the special documents only by a serial number which was assigned upon their appointment to the position. If they were ever exposed, they could expect no leniency; they would be summarily dismissed, and therefore subject to the reprisals of their victims, banished to a remote province, or summarily executed for violating the first duty of their office. Within the Censorate itself the officials would be moved about at randomly set intervals so that they could never grow complacent, relax their vigilance, acquire a sphere of influence, or establish cliques as had been the norm in the past. 

Of course, Zakhertan could not take full credit for these measures. “Let’s give some credit where credit is due,” Zakhertan throwing a furtive glance at Qarzten Caimund, who was seated at the far desk his head down overseeing some matters Zakhertan had allocated to him, donned a sinister smile. Indeed, some of it had been adapted from Qarzten's excellent proposals. 

Returning his gaze back to the garden, Zakhertan mused on another concern:   

Back then, when he had revised the legal statutes, he had assumed that he had left no room for those skillful manipulators of the letter of the law to contravene in it.   

He had the statutes so clearly worded and exactly defined that there had been nothing left in doubt; furthermore, he had been explicit, that all would be offenders, without fail, would be most rigorously prosecuted. Obviously even the best effort had its failing.  

Zakhertan shrugged, relieving the frustrations of those bygone days. Sure enough, it had looked good (sound) as written principles on the statute books, yet it had not been as effective, especially in the outlying areas, when constrained by the incredible number of legal restrictions, deception and corruption, turning it into new criterion (hallmark) and instigating dangerous discord (strife) between the different levels of Government.  Having learned to act swiftly and embrace change, Zakhertan had amended the laws in good enough time, eliminating these dangerous practices before they became the norm.  

“Pigs and fishes; one and all” Zakhertan inwardly jeered with utter disdain. In fact, a large part of his time had been taken up with constant monitoring of the usage of his laws within the Empire. 

“Virtue… Bah,” Zakhertan again inwardly scoffed. “Talk about an overrated, foolish concept.”   

 Back in the early days, the situation had been such that anyone uttering that word “virtue,” would have been scorned, accused of shirking his duty and then duly punished. Zakhertan Yozdek had always clung to the truth inherent in the ancient saying, "The man of inferior virtue clings to virtue and so has no virtue."   

It could be said that Qarzten Caimund had never practiced virtue. Zakhertan thoughtfully reflected as his eye caught a bird in the garden, wrestling an insect out of a tree trunk. Yet, Zakhertan had long suspected that Qarzten was the most virtuous of men. Or was that only another facade of his?  

03-QARZTEN CAMUND (5)

Zakhertan turned his stealth, suspicious gaze back onto Qarzten Caimund, studying him with penetrating eyes until a cold smile brushed his lips and he dismissed these speculations peremptorily. 

Zakhertan reached for a blank sheet of parchment, picked up his brush, and loaded it with the ink that Neru had prepared earlier and began to write. Once the first set of orders had been quickly dispensed, Zakhertan applied his crimson seal to the bottom, folded it into three, and wrote its destination on the back then sealed it with, wax from a purple taper and the impression of his signet ring. Before the molten wax around the ring could set, his mind had returned to the past. Once the amendments to the laws had been put in place and rigorously enforced, he had gotten the situation under control, except for, in the furthest regions of the Kingdom.   

Wellnigh unchecked, the situation there (in such a short span) had grown extremely volatile and at the most inopportune of times as well. The bulk of Zakhertan’s militia had been engaged in a difficult and demanding campaign in Korion and the remainder of his forces had been reserved for the police actions against the northern nomads, to end their persistent incursions into Wenjenkun's territory.  

Zakhertan Yozdek had been strapped, caught short handed hence, in effectively bringing a swift resolution to this far region. What he had needed at that time, short of another army appearing from thin air, an able vassal, one most ruthless and cunning, who could conduct this challenging task with the minimum of arms and workforce. That man appeared in the person of Qarzten Caimund, who had been an unknown minor official until then.  

“Oh, but you were a sly one right from the start, Qarzten Caimund,” Zakhertan mused. 

 “Imagine getting none other than Egil Viggoaries to recommend you for service when in fact you were the proponent of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren the whole time.”  This very fact had intrigued Zakhertan Yozdek right from the start and had won Qarzten Caimund the certain singular distinction he rightly deserved.  

During the entire interview Qarzten Caimund had admirably withstood the grueling mental tightrope and impressed by Qarzten's astute rationalism, his vast knowledge of the legal statutes, his courage, wit, and martial ability among a multitude of other talents, Zakhertan Yozdek had allowed himself to overlook those minor flaws, the prejudices, and biases barely discernible in Qarzten’s character, and had appointed (assigned) him to the unenviable post.  

Rising the challenge to complete the subjugation of the north in a set time upon peril of his life, Qarzten had requisitioned and received Zakhertan Yozdek’s approval for a free hand in rectifying the situation. Qarzten Caimund’s subsequent, steady progress had read like a textbook case, but what had really interested Zakhertan Yozdek, was the ingenious, though unorthodox measures the new commander had taken. While appearing lenient, Qarzten had been, from the very beginning, selectively ruthless. As good as his word, he had laid stress on severe implementation of the full rigors of the law, even to the Royal relations who had grown too overbearing and daring away from the prying eyes of Zakhertan. Given free reign

Qarzten had killed men summarily, tortured suspects until they confessed or died and practiced other most effective measures to spell out his message to one and all.  He had personally cut off quite a few of the heads of convicted officials and had made mincemeat of several (not a few) formerly lofty citizens.  

In a noticeably short spell, Qarzten Caimund had brought all within his authority(jurisdiction) under his absolute control. Once law and order were restored, he moved on to the next region and then the next; his reputation preceded him until all areas were pacified. Qarzten Caimund’s savage reputation for adapting bold, ruthless tactics, had naturally won him Zakhertan's favor, especially since every step, every victory, was secured well within the established time. 

04-QARZTEN CAMUND (16)

Of course, there had been copious amount of (flood of) litigations and hundreds of indictments from these regions, which had to be passed over to the Chief Justice due to their importance and, despite the increased amount of nightmarish paperwork that had to wind its way through the sluggish bureaucracy.  Zakhertan had taken no action against Qarzten; in fact, been secretly pleased deeming these as proof, of his appointed vassal’s competency. Fortunately for Zakhertan, Qarzten’s beloved wife Bren had died just then from a bizarre accident leaving Qarzten free to marry. As it was Zakhertan’s way, after the appropriate time for the mourning had passed, Zakhertan’d proposed, more like dictating a propitious marriage between Zakhertan’s distant relative’s (cousin’s) beautiful second daughter Kelda and Qarzten Caimund.

 Qarzten Caimund, competent as he had been in everything that mattered; he had never been, fortunate in matters of love, family, or marriage. To date, a well-kept secret, especially from Zakhertan, this arrangement unfortunately had been a loveless marriage from the start, as Kelda had already been secretly betrothed to a young warrior Adrian Kenzor, whom she had been infatuated with since childhood.   

In fact, Kelda’d been secretly impregnated by Adrian at the time her family forced this marriage with Qarzten Caimund on her. Qarzten was of course no fool and had quickly found out about this; nevertheless, taking pity on her had kept his silence and when a healthy, infant son (named Stokner Tchort Caimund) was born, he had pretended that he (Qarzten) was the natural father. This happenstance had suited Qarzten Caimund well; for in childhood Qarzten had had a terrible accident that had destroyed any chance of him to ever propagate (reproduce, breed) later in adult life. This had been a closely guarded secret that no one, not even Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek, knew at that time. 

When a son, Stokner Tchort Caimund, was born to him, Qarzten playing the part of a dutiful father had provided the boy, with every available means of education; however, from earlier on, he had been disappointed about the boy’s aptitude and innate character. Not liking what he saw, he gradually distanced himself from his son Stokner and quickly packed off his estranged wife Keida and son Stokner to a distant province where Qarzten Caimund had a vast estate.

05 - QARZTEN'S UNFILIAL WIFE KELDA AND HER LOVER ADRIAN KENZOR -JP (78)

 

Alas, when  Qarzten Caimund’s learned that his wife had secretly renewed her old liaison (relationship) with Adrian Kenzor, enraged Qarzten had Kelda, Adrian Kenzor and anyone who knew of this, at various times of course, murdered. Five perished because of a terrible accident; three swiftly passed away from ingesting poison while few others expired from a fatal illness. Only his son Stokner’s life was spared. Meanwhile Qarzten Caimund playing the role of a mournful (grieving) twice widowed, unlucky in love official, vowed never to remarry and from then on gave his undivided attention instead, to state matters and, to his official duties in Capital that had markedly increased by then.  

Sovereing Zakhertan Yozdek’s focus (concentration) at the time had been totally taken (preoccupied) by the difficult governance of Wenjenkun and the renewed foreign aggression; as a result, he relied heavily on Qarzten’s brilliance and ruthless efficiency and to date, he had not been disappointed. Unfortunately, at the right time Qarzten Caimund had created so much enmity, especially among the prominent nobility that thirty-five grievous slanders grew around him, though to no avail. Naturally, having foreseen this outgrowth of his work, Qarzten Caimund had kept meticulous records and had not shared any of the vices that had caused the downfall of so many of his predecessors. Though Qarzten was a person of diverse interests, he had neither any real attachment nor damaging aversions; he had no sexual perversions, took no bribes, did not drink to excess, and curbed any ambition or greed, through cerebral forte (strong suit) and a healthy caution. To date Qarzten Caimund had upheld a modest lifestyle and kept a Spartan house in Capital. While he could be the most unassuming of pacifists, one could also meet with dire woe should one incur his anger or cross his wishes. Zakhertan understood Qarzten held long grudges and was intolerant of stupidity that misrepresented itself.  

It often amused Zakhertan to observe the way Qarzten struck back with such pernicious (spiteful) precision, at the foe that dared to cross or encumber him.  Caught off guard, the adversary invariably succumbed to whatever weapon was chosen: the deadly strike of the sword, or a severe tongue-lashing from Qarzten Caimund. Yet, overall Qarzten advocated peace and perseverance; it could even be said he was deeply religious. He detested liars, yet when and where warranted he was not above acting the hypocrite to get the more vital job done.  Yes, by employing his many unconventional methods Qarzten had, within that specific time, checked all crime and restored the complete rule of law and order to the far (rebellious) regions. In other words, Qarzten Caimund succeeded where others had failed miserably. Impressed by these results, his unrelenting zeal, boundless energy, no-nonsense attitude, and impartiality where it counted most, Zakhertan had steadily promoted Qarzten Caimund in a brief three years' time to the position of Chief Justice to Military Tribune of the Capital Region then to the exalted posting as Senior Grand Secretary.  No other Civil Minister could boast of such a feat. What was more, his unmarred efficiency and impeccable record to date had given Zakhertan absolutely no cause for complaint.  Still, even though Zakhertan Yozdek relied on Qarzten a great deal more than the others, the truth was that Qarzten Caimund’s position was neither more nor less precarious than any of the others.  

                                                                              …..  

 

 

(END OF SECTION 3)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 18

Soon as Tonng Yennik’s receding (diminishing) footsteps was heard going down the stairs, the door of Room Ten creaked open and the stranger, followed by his stout guard both, emerged at outside. After making sure there was no one loitering about in the hall, at his cue, his stout assistant promptly took up his post in front of Room Twelve while the stranger producing his master key, entered the room.    Once at the interior, he first briefly surveyed the layout of the room, considering (bearing in mind) with a calculating gleam in his eye, where Tonng Yennik had left his luggage.  Grinning wryly, he next, turned to the opposite end and decisively walked over to the anticipated, precise spot where Tonng Yennik would have secured the papers.  Retrieving the bundle from the cavity behind the loose wall paneling, he carefully removed the contents and studied them.  He nodded absentmindedly, his sinister grin showing a slight glee of satisfaction.

 Afterwards he carefully replaced it just as he had found it and, not disturbing anything else in the room, turned and swiftly went out (exited, left).

01- FAMOUS BATHOUSE- SPA (6)JPG

In one of the private bathing chambers, Nevetsecnuac, despite his natural reserve, keeping up with the pretense, had allowed himself to be helped out of his clothes by the skimpily clad, ravishingly attractive (pleasant to the eye) young attendants (male or female); however, he’d refused all the additional, complementary perks, such as, special drinks and variety of morsels, soothing incense, potions or special ointments and massages (reflexology, acupressure, shiatzu, rubbing etc) that were designed to soothe any tense muscles, as well, enrich the bathing experience. The group of professionals promptly dismissed, they left with an obvious dejected, disappointed pout registering on each one’s faces.

 Refusing also any special accompaniment and having already donned (put on) a special cloth kilt (sarong) fastened around his waist (the rest of the garb, attire, flowing loose), which allowing him some modesty, Nevetsecnuac quietly climbed into (entered) the large pool and then immersed (engulfed) his body to midway to chest , delighting in the  steaming hot, perfumed waters. He swam to the far side, away from other customers, not wishing to idle converse with anyone and turned his back to the few other male guests who were already bathing, swooshing about complacently in the water, tended to by nubile attendants.

02- NEVETSECNUAC IN A BATHOUSE (19)JPG

Tonng Yennik’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) own clothes, meanwhile, were quickly whisked away to be cleaned and scented and in their place a plush long, embroidered terrycloth garb (garment) had been deposited, in anticipation of his leisurely recline on a sofa, as he might rest there, perhaps sleep, partake food and refreshments, or something else, depending on his preferred requirements, after his bath. In any event he would be pampered, till he chose to return to his private room at the inn. 

As he quietly set down on the submerged bench at the periphery of the pool, a sudden shriek ensued by a rude, boisterous laugh from one of the guests drew his attention and he half turned his head to gage what all the commotion had been about. The corner of his eye instead, caught sight of a curious looking, solitary man who appeared very much ill at ease, not at all enjoying the bath, though immersed to shoulders, in the hottest, steamiest section, at the far-off corner off the pool. Just then he, having had enough soaking, went out of the pool and sat at the bench, in supposedly thoughtful repose.

03-NEVETSECNUAC IN A BATHOUSE (27)-JPG

 Intrigued, Nevetsecnuac from hence, covertly watched the man. And when one of the attendants seductively lavished irresistible attention on him, the man had arrogantly, in an atypical (odd, nonconforming) way had feigned a passive disinterest, while continuing to discreetly, over the shoulder of the unsuspecting attendant, to spy, to scrutinize Tonng Yannik (Nevetsecnuac).  Moment later he was back in water, thinking that he would be more imperceptible (unseeable, hidden) while he kept on with his prying (snooping); he’d then even allowed one of the attendants to fuss on him.

Meanwhile, the notable (powerful) stranger (which had intrigued Nevetsecnuac, the one in the dining hall), and his intimidating guards, were nowhere to be seen; he clearly having bypassed (avoided) this spa experience.

Just then, expectantly, Kjeld Rosko’s assistant Rodny appeared on the scene, carrying a bundle of clothes tugged under his arm.  He started perspiring profusely the instant he had entered the area because he was fully dressed and so, with the back of his hand he wiped the perspiration off his brow, as he scrutinized the tubs, looking for someone specific, with urgent eyes.

04-ASSISTANT RODNEY

Catching the eye of the specific spy, he gave the barest (basic) of nods and, leaving the clothes close at hand, in one of the private chambers, quickly turned on his heels and left.  Responding immediately, the spy after his furtive glace around, making sure this had escaped notice, he rudely shoved the attendant aside and, disregarding the plaintive grunts, promptly got out of the water.  Nevetsecnuac imagined him hastily dressing himself in the clothes left by the assistant Rodny. Shortly after he’d emerged at the outside of the chamber smiling bleakly and then stole a brief side glance at Tonng Yennik before he hurried out the door.

Nevetsecnuac nodded in understanding, “Go ahead, have a good, hard look as you are ordered to do.  I'll even take an extra-long time enjoying my bath to avail you all the time you need, for thorough scrutiny and concrete (firm) validation of my identity papers.”

05- NEVETSECNUAC IN A BATHOUSE (21)- JPG

Nevetsecnuac closing his eyes then,  sank his body further down, allowing it  to be enveloped  by the  hot, therapeutic, mineral waters that also nourished the soul; inwardly however, having noted the  prevalent collusions (intrigues, conspiracies)being common as the, breath of air,  in this Province, Nevetsecnuac could not help  but hypothesize on the number of  factions that at present, might be nestled under this very roof of the Inn. 

After the long, relaxing time, Nevetsecnuac don (put on) the terrycloth garb and smiled, rather pleased with the comfort the plush robe tendered. He however had sternly (adamantly) refused the attendant’s alluring advances and the offers of special massage, smoke, exotic foods, liquids, and plus various other tantalizing bonuses, and instead, headed straight back to his room to consume the hot meal he had previously ordered.

                                                                                ~

In Room Ten the meeting was just ending. Fradel Rurik Korvald's identity had been confirmed, and the men had been briefed and each allocated to his own special task.

 In summary, the stranger seated at the head of the table, was now ordering his guards to proceed swiftly with the execution of the greater plan as soon as they left through the room's hidden back door.

"Now see to it that all the loose ends are taken care of.  It must all look like an accident.  No incriminating thread must be left that would lead to us.  Is that understood?"  There was no real need for this (drill) warning, for they had done this a hundred times before.

"Yes, Captain." the three responded in unison.

The captain waved them away, "Good, you're dismissed.  All that is, save Tizan.  I'd like a few words with you."  He motioned the stern guard to a seat then waited until they were left in private.  Leaning forward the captain asked: "Have you seen to the matter of that spy?"

"Yes sir." Tizan responded briskly.  "He is now with his ancestors.  As per your orders, we relaxed our vigil, and it all went just as anticipated.  That fool led us straight to him in the bathing hall.  The stupidity of that man never can surprise me."

He shook his head in contempt, “Forsaking the lives of his own father, wife, and infant son to send word to Egil Viggoaries’s forces by way of that spy.  Is that addle-brained or what?  Then again," he shrugged dispassionately and leaned back a little, "his fate and theirs are sealed nonetheless."  Stroking his thin beard, he smiled wryly and gave a knowing wink.

This sudden, strange familiarity bothered the captain. Though he trusted Tizan more than the rest, he looked at him guardedly.  Tizan had won his confidence some five years previous, which was no mean feat.  At the risk of his own hide, this guard had rescued him from a very tight situation.  Unquestionably Tizan was bold and confident, but his heart was hard, harder than stone, and it bore a genuine contempt for the rest of mankind.  In part, that had been the reason why Tizan had been entrusted with the most important and most difficult tasks.  He knew that Tizan could execute even the most horrendous murders expeditiously and without question and without a qualm.  In that time, however, his relationship with Tizan had always been strictly formal, distant, and cold.  He preferred it, that way to maintain impartiality and strict discipline.  In this service, it meant survival.  In such a task force any member, any subordinate could be severed instantly, effectively, and without qualm if they strayed or got out of line.  So why is Tizan being so insubordinate?  As useful as he is, he is still expendable.  When his eyes met Tizan's, the Captain's expression was totally unreadable, a purposeful move meant to unnerve his subordinate.  Seeing Tizan snap back into military bearing without showing the least sign of discomfort at his scrutiny, he knew his point had been made.

Captain narrowed his eyes, deciding to overlook the matter this time.  Assuming a stern expression, he asked, "Any difficulty in attaining", and then stole a glance at the door before he leaned forward to frame the rest of his question in a whisper.

"No, sir;" Tizan replied tersely.

06-TZAN JP

"Good.  You have much to accomplish tonight but remember; there are to be no witnesses."

"Yes sir."

"You may go now."  The captain turned his attention to the document he had just removed from his inner pocket.

Tizan stood up smartly and walked towards the door.  His hand reached out for the door handle, then ceased mid-way.  On the other side he could hear the frightened eavesdropper scrambling to get clear of the door.

“You are stinking piece of offal,” Tizan gave a scornful, venomous smile then, with a calculating gleam in his eyes, withdrew his hand and stole a look back towards the captain.

"Is there something else?"  The captain, seated back to the door, lifted his head from his reading to demand.

Tizan looked back to the door, “I’ll force your hand yet, you slimy weasel! “Turning about smartly, Tizan responded, "May I have a word with you, sir?

"Can't it wait?"  The captain asked, aware of the slight hesitation in Tizan's voice.

 “I suppose that you are now going to alert me to Briac's doings. “Captain smiled knowingly and, folding the document once more, returned it to the inner pocket.  Half turning to throw a curious glance at the door, then at Tizan, he nodded and indicated the chair with his chin.  "Be sure to make it brief." he warned.

Tizan took a breath.  "May I speak frankly, sir?"

"You are trying my patience, Tizan." the captain barked.

 "Speak up, man, I haven't got all night!  Say what you will and be done with it!"

"It's Briac, sir that I wish to warn you about.  I know he's been with you for a long time, a lot longer than I have, but of late - how shall I put this - I've noted serious inconsistencies in him, especially in the way he's always overreacting, as if he has something to cover up - like that ruckus he raised in the dining hall.  It’s all to impress you, sir."

"Do you realize the seriousness of your accusation, Tizan?"  The captain drowned a frown.  "You had better have some solid evidence to substantiate your claim.  Well, have you?"

His irate bark caught Tizan by surprise.  This was not the reaction he had expected to receive from the more perceptive, the more discerning Captain.

 Startled at that moment, he came to believe that the captain was dressing him down, berating him in earnest, so convincing was, his superior's playacting and, in that moment, Tizan almost lost his head.

“How dare he?  Captain or no Captain, no one talks to me like that and lives!”  He clenched his fist, his chest rose and fell, and his eyes bored angrily into the captain's face.

The coldness of his gaze touched the captain to the core.  Still unrelenting, he stared back at Tizan belligerently, the threat most explicit in his silence.

Tizan blanched and lowered his eyes.

"I conclude by your silence that you have none." The captain finally ejected angrily.

 "I'm disappointed in you, Tizan."  His voice became markedly different. Touch concern took root and mellowed his subsequent stern tones, "You should consider yourself fortunate that I know your character well, Tizan.  I know, for instance, that you have a measure of integrity that places you above petty, malicious slanders.  Your obvious contempt of late for Briac could not fail to come to my attention.  It does not matter who, or what substantiated this observation.  I was hoping that this damaging rift would be resolved of its own accord without need for my interference, but I see now that I must deal with this forcefully.  I order you to drop this nonsense at once and, furthermore, you are to make every effort to get along peacefully with Briac.  No more friction.  I will not tolerate any dissension within this group.  Do you understand me?  If you don't, I'll be forced to deal with you more severely."

“That’s telling him, Captain.”  Outside the door, Briac with a smirk on his face, derided (jeered, scoffed, sneered).  Well, what you know…. all those Years of diligence sure paid off.  Imagine that; Frastos putting in a good word for me.  I always liked him best.  Maybe I can use him to more advantage.” 

07- BRIAC (3)

In contrast to his angry words of admonishment, however, the captain, his back to the door, bore a peaceful expression.  Tizan was baffled until, at the end, the captain half turned, threw a cursory glance at the door, and gave Tizan an accommodating smile.  Suddenly Tizan grasped the situation and his indignation spontaneously melted.

“So, this entire scene had been played out, all, for the benefit of that excrement’ eavesdropper, Briac… The captain, then, wants me to watch Briac carefully, monitor his actions but do nothing for the time being.  Perhaps the captain has a specific use for him, like relaying false information at some crucial time” Tizan nodded dutifully.

Briac standing outside with his ear to the door, unaware of the ploy against him, grinned from ear to ear, when he heard the captain say, "Now listen, Tizan.  I will not have you speak ill of Briac; he is an exemplary and most trusted officer.”

“In the long while that he has been in my service, he has never given me cause to have a single concern or raised the least reason to doubt his loyalty. I repeat, I will not have you slandering a good officer!"

"Yes sir.  I'm sorry, sir.  I will do as you say, sir." Tizan begrudgingly agreed to the captain's demands.

“Go ahead, crawl.  Then crawl some more.  It does my heart good to hear you being chewed out for once.” Briac snickered outside.

"All right; In view of your past good record, I'll forget this unpleasant incident for now."

“Oh no; you're letting him off the hook way too easy!” Briac gritted his teeth in disappointment.

"Thank you, sir, for giving me this chance. I shall mend my failing (flaw) and make things right." Tizan stood up and awaited a dismissal that was purposefully delayed giving Briac time to flee to safe distance.

                                                                                   

                                                                                    ~

 

(END OF SECTION 18)