THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 6

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 6

Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and Fradel Rurik Korvald (riding on horseback) were still some distance away from any settlement or an Inn when dusk fell.  As if to multiply Fradel's misery, suddenly strong winds ushered a flotilla of dark, ominous clouds, which threatened to let loose a downpour at any time.

 Just then they sighted a thatched hut in the distance, and, in silent agreement, they both steered their horses towards it.  Obvious signs told them that the place had long been abandoned. Two lonely graves outside and a stench rising from the well attested to the tragic story of its residents.

Nevetsecnuac pushed the door open with an eerie creak and, lighting a torch quickly surveyed the dilapidated state of the interior.  The lit torch at once caused the infestation of rodents, lizards and insects to scurry away.

Nevetsecnuac brushed away the cobwebs then pushed the broken furniture and debris to one side to clear out a corner.  Inviting Fradel to rest there, he went back outside to secure the horses and meet their requirements for food and water.  When he returned Nevetsecnuac found that Fradel had made good use of this time to clear out the stove and start a small fire using kindling and charcoal chips that littered the floor.

So, he's not as helpless without servants as he claimed. Nevetsecnuac mused.  Good!

That night, sheltered from the wind and rain, for the roof leaked in only one or two places, they shared dry rations boiled over the fire to make a stew.  Fradel, more accustomed to wine and savory dishes, consumed a good share of this food without complaint, washing it down with water.  To Nevetsecnuac’s relief, the pampered scholar had proved adaptable and, more to the point, resilient.

After they retired Fradel found it impossible to sleep.  The excitement of that day, the eerie atmosphere of the room, the pelting rain on the roof, his hard makeshift (improvised) bedding and the coarse food had all conspired to keep him awake.  As the night progressed his distress became even more acute.

Now every shadow, every sound stretched his nerves taut.  Several ugly visages leered menacingly at him from the dark corners of the room but when he sat up and stubbornly fixed them with his stare they reverted back to ordinary objects.  Again, he shot occasional glances in Svein's direction and seeing him in deep slumber, suppressed an urge to grunt a would-be protest, “For Heaven’s sake, how can you sleep so soundly?”

Exhausted, Fradel reclined once more, then becoming aware of someone else's presence, he jumped up. This time, however, the apparition (ghost, phantom) was outside of the window.  As the window had no covering, he walked towards it and at the same time strained his eyes to see through the dark, the just then manifest, vacillating (fluctuating) iridescent specter.   The form drawn to closer proximity, become clearer, and he could now make out the tragic countenance of an elderly woman, which presently stretched out her arms in supplication and sobbed: “Save me, sir!  Save me!” 

Fradel was about to respond when, suddenly, out of the pitch darkness, three fearsome black wolves materializing (emerging), leapt upon her and sank their long fangs into her flesh; with such a voracious appetite, their prey (target) was instantaneously gone. Subsequently, crunching the last remanence of bones and lapping up the victim's blood, the trio of wolves licked their fur clean, thence, all three menacingly directed their attention on Fradel. They pivoted their blazing eyes on Fradel and began advancing towards him with deliberate slowness, with their tongues lolling, drooling at the mouth, as they panted.

Fradel, recoiling in terror, could not move a muscle, especially since one of the black wolves suddenly appeared inside and right beside him.

Fradel, resigned to his fate, held his breath and closed his eyes, expecting to be mauled, disemboweled and eaten to the last morsel by the rapacious wolves; unexpectedly however, the beasts simply vanished, when Sven just then stirred and, without turning to face him, asked: "What is it?”

"Nothing, nothing at all; it was just a bad dream (nightmare).  I'm sorry to have awakened you."

 Of course, Fradel's disclaimer was belied by the beads of perspiration on his forehead.  He tasted their salt as they dripped onto his lips; currently back on his hard bedding, he sullenly reclined and turned his back to Svein, as if to sleep.

 My strained nerves are playing tricks on me. Fradel consoled himself.  I'd best try to get some sleep.  With determination he closed his eyes tight but, just as he was about to drift off into the dream world, a rustling sound piqued his curiosity, and he once more lifted his eyelids to investigate.

This time his eyes beheld, in the center of the room, an enchanting, most beautiful fairy maiden’s apparition. Furthermore, smiling most alluringly at Fradel, she beckoned to him.  As he sat upright to acknowledge her, she suddenly turned into Cobarkek who, gritting his teeth, glowered at Fradel.

The scholar was seized with an inexplicable terror, recalling the bandit chief's last words to him, “I will deal with you later.”

He was about to call out to Svein when Cobarkek's head detached itself from his body, floated upwards and began to spin.  When it stopped, just in front of Fradel, the mouth opened wide and a reptilian, double-pointed tongue lashed out and coiled itself tightly around Fradel's neck, choking him.  Fradel struggled in vain to free himself, gasping for breath.

Again, Svein stirred, and Cobarkek's head simply vanished.

 Fradel found the culprit to be nothing more than the loosened strips of his head bandage that had fallen down around his neck.  Just as he was about to laugh at his own folly, Cobarkek's ghost reappeared.  Once more the scholar recoiled in terror as he watched the phantom metamorphosis into a frightful demon with grizzled red hair, blue face, glittering eyes, a saw-toothed razor-sharp grin and a blood red flickering tongue.  With green slime oozing from its four nostrils and its six arms flailing it advanced towards Fradel.  Paralyzed from the neck down, Fradel opened his mouth to cry for help, but no sound was issued forth.

As the scholar was struggling to scream, Svein suddenly sprang to his feet and hacked the demon into two halves with one blow.  Both halves toppled to the floor, motionless, giving off a dense bluish vapor that settled into a putrid mass which oozed under the floorboards.

Svein turned to smile reassuringly at Fradel, "It's all over now, go back to sleep."  Then, quite unruffled, he lay down once more, facing the wall, to fall asleep.

Fradel leaned over to ask, in amazement, "Aren't you afraid?"

"I used to be", Svein confessed.  "When I was younger, but now I know there is nothing to be afraid of."  He shrugged his shoulders under his blanket.

 "This is to be expected.  All abandoned places have their share of ghosts and demons, but they can only harm us if we let them."

Fradel nodded and also reclined in order to sleep once more.  He was very comforted by Svein's presence and, gradually, his heartbeat returned to normal.  Drawing closer, he whispered his thanks to Svein but the other just let out a disquieting laugh and, when Svein turned around to face Fradel, he wore Cobarkek's face.

With a start Fradel awoke and sat up, a crazy gleam playing in his eyes.  When he steadied his heart once more, he realized that all of it had been a dream.  But was it really?  He had an eerie feeling about it all.

At the far corner a huge rat was gnawing at an empty flour bag as it flashed its red eyes at him.  Standing up, Fradel strolled to the window and peered outside.  It was just before dawn and he saw Svein harnessing the horses, anxious to be on the road again.

Before they left, on Fradel's insistence, they dug a new grave and fished the corpse out of the well.  Despite the decayed condition of the body, Fradel at once recognized the old lady in his dream.  Giving her a proper burial next to the other two mounds, they allowed the poor woman to find lasting peace in the afterlife with her husband and daughter.

Svein then mounted his horse and urged Fradel Rurik Korvald to follow suit.

 Looking back on the three small mounds, another painful memory intruded into Fradel's thoughts.  In a deep silence he hung his head; his face was long and drawn as he reflected over this past, tragic episode.  Absentmindedly he pivoted his mount around and let it follow Fiery Comet onto the open road. 

(END OF SECTION 6)