Showing posts with label target. Show all posts
Showing posts with label target. Show all posts

Wednesday, 12 November 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 1

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 1

01- ZONAR KUNTZU

 Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac), relentlessly pursuing Mouro Kerr, ascended several flights of stairs that led upwards to the open air.  As he took the next sharp turn, however, he found himself face to face with Zonar Kuntzu, grasping in his left hand, suspended by the hair, the ghastly severed head of Mouro, dripping its blood onto the corpse at his feet.

"I abhor debauched officials, but, even more, I despise devious cowards." Zonar grunted, glowering at Mouro's head before he hurled it into the distance with disdain.

His fiery eyes next riveted on Fradel.  "Our meeting was not ordained for this night," he spoke sternly then, turning his back on Fradel, walked away.

 At that instant, however, Fradel leaped into the air and flipped over Zonar's head to land right before him and block his way.

 Zonar, taken aback slightly, knit his brows, "Are you courting death, sir?" He should actually had called him nephew… but not yet!  Zonar ruminated (brooded, pouted).

Fradel, bowing in respect, begged the warrior's indulgence and asked for Zonar's full name so that he may offer his proper thanks to his benefactor who had, not once but twice, rendered him a valuable service.

Zonar grimaced wryly, "You are too polite sir.  Thanks, are neither warranted nor necessary, since I am only reciprocating a kind turn rendered to me once."

He was about to walk away again when Fradel more persistently barred his way, requesting an introduction and a proper surname.

Checking his annoyance, Zonar glowed.  "And you, sir, are you in turn willing to oblige me by disclosing your true (legitimate) identity?" he asked with icy cynicism.

Taken aback slightly, Nevetsecnuac burrowed his questioning eyes on Zonar.  He hesitated, not wishing to insult (affront) this formidable warrior's intelligence by insisting that he was, indeed, the scholarly poet Fradel Rurik Korvald, yet still consumed with a desire to learn just how much Zonar knew or suspected.

02- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC)

"I thought not," Zonar interrupted the suspenseful air.  "To each his own, then,” as he turned his back once more, he added in a thundering voice, "but I thank you for your courtesy; denial at this point would only have incurred my ire.”

Nevetsecnuac had, just then, detected a familiar, slight accent in Zonar's dialect, one not unlike that of the assassin Duan. Quite intrigued, Nevetsecnuac remained ever more reluctant to let Zonar go; feet firmly planted on ground, he stubbornly blocked Zonar’s path as his mind pondered.

 “It has to be more than paranoia, more than a mere fluke that our paths have crossed with such frequency; but what importance does these coincidences entail?”

Nevetsecnuac had first encountered Zonar innocently enough at Aguda and Yagu's Inn but, since then, the strong sense (intuition) of being persistently stalked had both intrigued and troubled him. Possessing incredible prowess, Zonar had appeared and disappeared without a trace at will; in Yenis Luko's room at Kuno Temple, then again at the trial, where he disappeared dramatically in the midst of a crowd after issuing his threat to Micen Do, and his sudden appearance again here. This could not all be mere coincidences; therefore, what was it Zonar really after?  And since Nevetsecnuac could not ascertain the precise timing of Zonar's (appearance) materialization at this last locale, he abstained from theorizing why Zonar had not joined in the fray (combat) earlier on, either for or against him. Zonar’s poignant reference to their impending future meeting, on the other hand, merited probing. With Heng Erling’s treachery still fresh in mind, Nevetsecnuac (forgoing all the conjecture,) glued his gaze on Zonar but this time with a look of askance, wishing to engage him in friendly dialogue, regardless of the consequences.

“Are you done, probing?” Zonar was briefly amused.

"Your persistence, however, is getting rather tiresome." Zonar stared down at Nevetsecnuac. “Unfortunately, I am pressed for time and furthermore, I have no wish to engage in dialogue or fight (test) with you at this point in time. “ Zonar was about to snap his fingers and simply disappear, but then on second thought, he stayed long enough to add: “ I would think that your mind would be beset with more pressing concerns, such as, the whereabouts of Fradel Rurik Korvald's real identity papers. For without them, how could you gain entry to the Capital to ultimately fulfill your destiny?"

 Noting Nevetsecnuac's slight start at the emphasis on the word 'real' he threw his head back and laughed raucously…Then, before Nevetsecnuac could respond, "Oh, here."

 In a flash Zonar produced the envelope from an inner pocket and thrust it into Nevetsecnuac's hand.

03- ZONAR KUNTZU

 "No need to thank me for them, either." he shrugged.  "They were of no use to me, anyway."

Seeing that they were, indeed, the originals and not the forgeries Mouro had spoken of, Nevetsecnuac's heart filled with gratitude, and he looked up at once to thank Zonar and to question him about it.

 He was nowhere to be seen.  Quite mysteriously once more, Zonar had disappeared without a trace into thin air, with not even the slightest sound to alert Nevetsecnuac's keen senses.  Frowning, Nevetsecnuac strained his eyes and scanned the area.

"Don't fret, we'll be meeting again soon enough." the thunderous voice shook the skies, and the subsequent roaring laughter trailed off into the distance.

Nevetsecnuac's entreaties for him to halt, his dares to manifest himself fell on deaf ears so, eventually, he gave up trying and returned to the matters at hand.  Nevetsecnuac clad in more appropriate (armor) travelling attire, first secured Hecun's sword, this along with his scholar's vestments and identity papers in a bundle, Nevetsecnuac fastened them all onto the harness of Mouro's charger (strong cavalry horse). He gave a proper burial to Doctor Sullen and the others then vaulting the mare resumed his journey to the Capital.

                                                                               ~

In the ensuing days and nights, Nevetsecnuac could not shake the feeling of being monitored (watched) by an unseen entity; for intuitively, despite the seeming absence of form, he certainly sensed unearthly presence at every turn. It was like that of Zonar’s aura, a force, and yet not quite the same… This presence was, inured, (callous, desensitized) yet same time more deadly and, it definitely was in pursuit of something or someone, other than him. Nevetsecnuac was just a conduit (channel, means); the phantom hunter (tracker) had intangibly stalked him to attain real prey (target). Nevetsecnuac did not know it, but he had instinctively detected the unseen presence of an immortal, one called Dwengzur; who had been assigned to hunt down and destroy the renegade Immortal before he reached his full potential.

04- NEVETSECNUAC BEING MONITORED BY UNSEEN DWENGZUR

A scant scent of target had led Dwengzur to that spot where the previous battle had taken place. Nevetsecnuac, a sole survivor emerging from the scene, warranted attention and therefore had been pursued; but when the mark (trace, hint), whatever was attached to this mortal had proven false, then one day Nevetsecnuac’s keen sensation of been persistently monitored, had abruptly cessed (terminated, ended).

                                                                                   ~

Several days later, however, the sensation of being observed by an unknown force had again returned, though, this one was not hostile.  Nevertheless, Nevetsecnuac was bit peeved (annoyed, ticked off), that he’d been persistently for some unknown reason was being monitored and audaciously, subtly tested; and so, once after a long, tiring ride, when he halted for respite at the edge of a thick forest, near a flowing creak, he’d shouted his dare into the air:

“If you are fair, face me true, or, try another, more (effective) potent tactic.”

Subsequently, as he waited for a response, (with his senses on high alert,) he’d perfunctorily laid down his bedding under an ancient tree and, after starting a small campfire, his eyes pensively watched the steed graze on the lush grass, then quietly sat down to, for his sustenance, roast the already cleaned and gutted small game (rabbit)  he’d snared earlier on.  

His hunger satiated, after a bout (spell) of reflection, for disappointingly nothing untoward had happening (manifesting): “Oh well,” shrugging his shoulders, Nevetsecnuac briefly looked up at the cloudless sky overhead, which was blanketed with stars that winked incessantly, then donning a knowing, broad smile, he reclined and closed his eyes in sleep.

Suddenly, as if in answer to his earlier challenge, an arrow pierced the air and, finding its mark, got buried deep into the log where Nevetsecnuac had used as his pillow, its shaft barely grazing the tip of his nose.

"You are back; but surely you can do better!" Nevetsecnuac, unperturbed, chortled and, pulling out the arrow, with ease, tossed it aside.

"Don't provoke me, for I can ground your bones to dust with but a single blow."

A terrifying voice boomed (roared) out of the darkness.

"You're welcome to try." Nevetsecnuac masking his inner elation (excitement), with a wry grin goaded presumed Zonar further, eyes still (closed) shut tight.

In a bolder move yet, Nevetsecnuac simply shifted his body to get more comfortable and then yawning, plaintively mumbled.  "I’ve had a long day’s ride but pray do your worst for; as yet, you have shown me nothing of your vaunted might?"

The dare had barely left his lips when, with a deafening, crackling sound, the ancient tree sheltering Nevetsecnuac split right down the middle into two perfect halves. If not for a nimble jump to safety, Nevetsecnuac would have been pulverized under the enormous trunk as it came crashing (in big chunks) to the ground. His mare, as luck would have it, was tethered to another tree opposite and so had escaped the danger.

"How unreasonable, this tree had existed for thousands of years yet perished in a flash." Nevetsecnuac shook his head disapprovingly as he viewed the damage.  "Such is the vanity of man."

05- NEVETSECNUAC DISSAPPOINTED

"You dare mock me?"  Zonar's thundering voice, though he remained invisible still, quaked the ground under Nevetsecnuac's feet, suddenly splitting it wide open, with dislodged soil and rock subsequently plunging (plummeting) into a deep chasm (gorge).

Nevetsecnuac had escaped this catastrophe by nimbly, in the nick of time, jumping to one side of the precipice.  After which, still clinging onto the exposed roots at the edge, he’d hauled himself up to safety. He nonchalantly dusted off his clothes while inwardly marveling at the other's incredible powers.

Unperturbed, he shouted out defiantly, “You had best resign (quit) tonight, for I refuse to oblige your whims any longer.  Sleep is what awaits me now."  This said, he picked out another suitable ground under another ancient tree and reclined his head. Nothing much happened that evening and he slept soundly till dawn.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)                                                                                           ~


Friday, 10 October 2025

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 32

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 32

02- DAG DIEZ
    

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                                                             ~

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

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

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

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

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

03- GUARDS ON DUTY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

                                                                                ~

(END OF SECTION 32)