LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - BOOK 10 - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 1

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 1

At the appointed time, as mark of great favor Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren had sent his own personal carriage bearing the insignia of his office and complete with its impressive entourage to (transport) convey Fradel Rurik Korvald to his own residence where, as the quintessence of invitation had put it, a small gathering of a few intimate friends eagerly awaited the Illustrious Scholar’s distinguished presence.  More a command than an invitation, Fradel Rurik Korvald therefore acquiescing to this requisite social obligation, at noon had graciously entered the Prime Minister’s carriage. Close behind at a prescribed respectful distance had followed the minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr’s closed carriage.

Some time later both carriages had promptly arrived before the bronze gates of the Prime Minister's ostentatious mansion and no sooner they had cleared the gate, they had been greeted by the delighted Lamont Gudaren who had rushed out at once to personally welcome his honored guest Fradel Rurik Korvald. The Prime Minister then graciously and humbly assisted Fradel to alight from the carriage. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Fradel with the utmost deference, was escorted by Lamont Gudaren, up the stairs and then ushered into the PM’s stately residence.

01- RICH RESIDENCE  OF PM.JP 2

On the way to the main reception hall Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) with Lamont’s humble apologies, was discretely told, that Lamont’s niece and Emperor's chief consort Lady Sejon, one who had advocated for Fradel Rurik Korvald to be in Channing, having caught a slight chill the night before, would regrettably be absent from this small private gathering. There was one other, thankfully, who would not be there and that was the Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries.

When they finally entered the main vestibule, Fradel saw at once that he had been grossly misled, and that far from it being a small private affair, the atrium had been filled with (surfeit) plethora of eagerly awaiting prominent dignitaries. Fradel was first introduced (with much fanfare) to Lord Shouzi Yozdek, and then with abject apologies quickly whisked away and, in midst of the whirlwind of social protocol (etiquette), circulated to make acquaintances of all the key influential guests, ones that had showed up chiefly to curry Fradel's patronage and, as a bonus, also ingratiate themselves extra into the good graces of their patron P.M. Lamont Gudaren.

02- THE GUESTS AT THE PARTY JP 10

All this while Prime Minister Lamont had never ventured too far from Fradel's side and kept on smiling smugly as though Fradel Rurik Korvald was already his personal tyro (his client or protégé).

Fortunately for Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), he already possessed the required attributes (incredible patience, brilliant mind, wit, eloquent tongue, tenacity and skill) to pass as an illustrious scholar and to with ease, make a success of this most irksome (exasperating) situation: convincing and indubitably impressing (dazzling) even the most astute (most discriminating) elitists and  the not so secret affiliates of Egil Viggoaries,  who’d blatantly infiltrated the shindig with the sole purpose (objective) of gathering pertinent damaging  info on the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. After a prescribed respectful time, armed with their inequitable but nevertheless distressingly insipid reports, these brazen spies of the Dark Eunuch had all quietly departed (taken their leave early). The rest of the high society’s most influential and distinguished guests (comprised of, brilliant scholars, shrewd politicians and their wives, and the bold military personnel, not to mention other factions’ covert agents) clad in their gaudy, jewelled attires /garbs had unfortunately, incessantly, swirled around Fradel like erudite cyclone.

03- FRADEL AT THE PARTY

Despite his resilience and tenacity, as the time progressed Nevetsecnuac, had found this supposed academic repartee, a flamboyant display of sardonic (scathing) social banter and gluttony (all under the guise of entertainment), increasingly (disdainful) intolerable; more so, as there had been no end to the cornucopia of sporadic (intermittent) debauched and licentious pranks. To foster this outcome, the guests had all along been continually plied with potent and rare extravagant drinks by the circulating, scantily dressed, voluptuous female attendants; close behind them came the secondary group of pubescent male attendants, carrying trays heaped with various tantalizingly exotic morsels, to gratify even the most discriminating sensibility and tastebuds.

At the appropriate hour, a large bronze gong was struck with a mallet, whereupon the guests were then all shepherded into an elaborate, huge banquet hall.  The specifically (strategically) arranged seating, placed Fradel at hearing range between Lord Shouzi Yozdek on one side and Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren on the other. The rest of the afternoon and all through the feast (banquet), the burnished gold plates on the tables were continually piled high with every imaginable kind of bounty of gourmet dishes; additionally, gilded goblets (with embedded semi-precious gemstones) were kept perpetually filled to the brim with the finest, most fragrant alcoholic beverages. Countless servants bustled about in a silent, choreographed ballet, going back and forth, fulfilling every wish, whim, or outrageous desire of the guests.  The din of the pretentious chatter rising above the orchestrated lively music grated on Nevetsecnuac’s ears, as the ongoing entertainment with remarkable performances by colourful acrobats and dancers, all, served only to plunge him into a deeper state of dismay (heightened state of annoyance). Despite his outward (superficial) calm, his stomach had begun to churn, his livid state fueled by the incessant wagging tongues that vied in a whirlwind of deceit to win still more merit with Lamont Gudaren, himself, or some other official that they had spied from across the room. 

“This room is as empty of truth and propriety (morality) as it is full of avaricious people.” Nevetsecnuac, seated at the honoured position inwardly seethed. His patience wearing dangerously thin, he yearned to escape it all, if only for a brief spell.

A chance finally presented itself when Lamont Gudaren’s attention was drawn-away, by the eruption of a strong disagreement and an ensuing brief, heated (a violent) scuffle (almost a fray, exchange) between the two very inebriated dignitaries on the open verandah. As two of the quests hastened to pacify them, Nevetsecnuac seized this opportunity to ask his host's permission to be excused and, to visit the lavatory.

04-THE GUESTS IN DISPUTE AT THE VERANDA JP 12

After doing his business Nevetsecnuac was in no great hurry to get back and so for a spell he meditatively sat at the edge of the marble fountain; then desiring some more respite, he stood up and strayed off the general path to investigate less accessible sectors (regions) of the elaborate garden.  His lungs thanked him for the deep draughts he took of the refreshing air; meanwhile, light zephyrs (light winds) flavored with the scents of the exquisite flowers that adorned the grounds, sporadically wafted to tantalize his nostrils. Still reluctant to return, he strolled further in, delighting in the gentle breeze that caressed his red-hot cheeks, as he wandered aimlessly over-elaborate bridges and down the winding pathways that skirted miniature lakes ringed (encircled) with token forests.  Orchids decked out rocks and stumps with their delicate blossoms.  His heart and soul gradually lightened as their natural beauty in this tranquil setting lifted the onerous burden of socialization from his shoulders.  Without realizing it, his meanderings had taken him quite ways off (far away) from the banquet hall and, so as not to get too far lost, he was about to retrace his steps back when, hushed voices just then drew his attention to a distant spot beyond the pavilion, to an almost hidden sector,  that was nestled by the carefully manicured tall hedges of juniper and atypical (rare type) trees.

05- BEAUTIFUL GARDENS  AT PM'S RICH RESIDENCE JP 7 2

 

He stood rooted to the spot, fighting the urge to investigate the source of these urgent sounding whispers when, unexpectedly two figures immersed in a serious exchange, suddenly materialized (emerged, became visible) from the shadows of the dense tree- foliage (greenery).

Nevetsecnuac recognized one of them at once as being Zaur Stugr.  “What? Here too?” he frowned. “Would he never cease, not even for a bout, with his incessant plotting? It is tiresome enough deducing the scope of his machinations?” Before Nevetsecnuac could retreat however, Zaur's keen eyes had detected his presence and, quickly masking his momentary annoyed surprise, Zaur grinned and rushed over with his right arm extended, his companion close at his heels, to greet Fradel Rurik Korvald. 

Halting in close-proximity, Zaur Stugr nodded in polite salutation then proceeded to introduce the apparent latecomer to the banquet, as an old, distinguished friend, the esteemed Undersecretary Lenny Sukzor.

The name struck Nevetsecnuac like a thunderbolt; hence, he tersely looked down to conceal his inner shock, before he extended his customary greeting to Lenny.

Nevetsecnuac’s mind, meanwhile, had reeled (whirled) with uneasy questions: What is this… is he the same Lenny Sukzor, a certain affiliate of The Black Molochs?  The same Lenny Sukzor whose name Commander Zhadol had let slip to, Lieutenant Yennic, back at Cyprecox Pass!

Unfortunately, once more, Zaur's trustworthiness had again, come into question. What schemes were being hatched here?  How can Zaur Stugr fit in, with this known ally of Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries, the most powerful Eunuch in Wenjenkun and an ardent nemesis of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren? Furthermore, had Zaur just then introduce him as an old, close friend? Conspiracy heaped on collusion, is there no end to this official's vices?

Nevetsecnuac's heart was gripped with foreboding as he remembered how, in all innocence; he had rendered the mysterious key to this now passionately believed, duplicitous (hypocritical) minister. Could this portend future trouble/ hindrance (impediment) for him? No! Nevetsecnuac quickly dismissed that notion; Zaur Stugr had no reason to doubt the story he had given him, though just as well, that he'd altered the truth in part. 

Under the pretense of outwardly congenial chatter Nevetsecnuac scrutinized Zaur more keenly out of the corner of his eye. Imagine consorting so brazenly with the enemy, both invited guests in the home of their presumed ardent foe… hmm? Nevetsecnuac could not help but marvel at such audacity, the cunning complexity beneath the affable exterior.

 No, that was not it at all. Just then another notion quickly manifested in his mind. From everything he had seen and understood, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren was far too shrewd to be, misinformed or be careless, and his security was too pervasive, especially here. With all the hidden spies about it was inconceivable that this meeting could transpire without the Prime Minister's knowledge and acquiescence. More likely Zaur Stugr was conducting (acting in accordance with) his superior's instructions. If so, what diabolical scheme was being- hatched here? What odious intrigue was in the works? Nevetsecnuac again inwardly queried, perplexed with this subtle web of alliances and treachery that were perpetually being spun, under the guise of norm, within the walls of the Imperial Capital Channing.  Since his arrival in Capital city, he had noted partly in dismay, that nothing, no one could be (relied upon) counted on to be what they seemed at face value.  In this diabolically superficial world even nature itself was, molded and manipulated, into a totally controlled representation of, someone's imaginings (dreams) and whims.

06- LENNY SUKZOR (12)JP

Covertly sizing up Lenny Sukzor, Nevetsecnuac found it hard to believe that this strikingly handsome young minister with his distinguished bearing and fine manners was anything other than what he appeared to be: sincere, upstanding, likable, and eloquently articulate being.  Indeed, this amiable mask he wore could dupe even the worldliest, cunning, and calculating official (bureaucrat, administrator).

Nevetsecnuac reflected again on the fact that Zaur had introduced Lenny Sukzor as an old, close friend. Even one as discerning as Minister Zaur, not being immune to Lenny’s charms, could be, beguiled. Was it conceivable that Zaur was unaware of Lenny Sukzor’s complicity with Eunuch Egil Viggoaries? If so, he could be in grave danger. He may be passing on information to the other side, and with the Prime Minister's blessing, no less.

His quandary, however, was short lived. “No, if I believed that, I'd have to have been born yesterday.” Nevetsecnuac shrugged it off. As it were all this array of intrigues, albeit an entertaining diversion, had kept his mind bit off course from the main objective.

Tad ashamed, Nevetsecnuac presently directed his full attention on the undeniable fact that from the very moment he’d arrived at the Imperial city all the culmination of what he’d seen and heard had determined that the invincible, solid defensives and indomitable sentinels shielding the core, more specifically the Imperial Palace in Channing, were quite impenetrable.  Additionally, the multitude of spies and the dire vigilance of the Black Band Guard Regiment, which was Zakhertan Yozdek’s private invincible militia guarding him, had left Nevetsecnuac with but one option: to persevere in this odious disguise until the appointed date of summons.

Nevetsecnuac till then would continue to maintain his aloof (standoffish) disposition, patiently tolerating these upper crusts’ (polite society’s) machinations till it was time for him to strike. This afternoon being, already lost, he forwent any further speculation about Zaur or Lenny’s motives and instead, allowed himself one last (heedless) bit of fun for the reminder of the day. Subsequently, he turned his undivided attention back on the ongoing outwardly cordial, amusing, yet highly exuberant altercation between the two brilliant minds (officials).

Both arguments were properly marshaled, yet Nevetsecnuac was quick to discern (discerned) beneath the lucid, academic exchange the subtle riddles, plays on words, the underlying assertions that underpinned a benign discussion. He could not help but be increasingly impressed by Lenny Sukzor’s ready repartee, his eloquence (of tongue) and the complexity of meanings in the brilliant profusion of his images.  The views themselves were most profound and his judgments so very sound. With his ready command of puns and colloquialisms he was a good match for Zaur Stugr. For the most part Lenny Sukzor would appear most tractable to the points Zaur had put forth then, at an unexpected turn he would, with uncanny precision and skill, insert his own cunning, complexities backed by appropriate quotations to bring the subject over to his own point of view and cast serious doubt over the shambles of Zaur's arguments he had left behind.

Minister Zaur Stugr was no less talented.  A sure virtuoso, his eyes sparkling with mischief, he retaliated in the same good humor with impressive, lucid arguments that oscillated between the two extremes, dazzling Lenny with no less pointed, skewed logic. The irrefutable theories, wrapped in brilliant metaphor sometimes forced Lenny Sukzor to concede and retract what they both knew to be the truth. Then with mutual admiration they exchanged ciphers, whose meanings were different than those outwardly expressed yet, the connotations of it, was clear to both Lenny and Zaur.

07- SPARRING WITH IDEAS AND NOTIONS

The precipitously exchanged wittingly cryptic (ambiguous) words, with slyly ingenious connotations (undertones) beneath it, which Zaur and Lenny had incessantly volleyed (lobbed) between them, would have baffled anyone, save for Nevetsecnuac, who was equally adept (proficient) at, analytical, abstract (conceptual) geneses and their sort of odd logic. In fact, he interjected with articulate subtlety from time to time to manoeuvre the discourse onto an alternate path neither one of them were prepared to take. Unwittingly steered onto this atypical theme (topic) and swept along by its momentum, they had then animatedly discussed its ramifications, under the orchestration of the new games master, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac). Engaged thus, the trio had gradually advanced through the unfrequented garden paths to eventually rejoin the general area of the bash (party, shindig).

Nevetsecnuac had estimated (assessed) that Lenny Sukzor, having gone to this length to ingratiate himself with Zaur Stugr and Lamont Gudaren, would have stayed on for the duration of the banquet and filled his arsenal with the tidbits dropped by the Prime Minister's increasingly inebriated clientele. Even these snippets could have proved effective if Lenny had the aim of fomenting trouble in the opposing camp. Therefore, Nevetsecnuac was surprised when, shortly after their return, Under-Secretary Lenny Sukzor had discretely asked the Prime Minister's leave (excused) from the party, claiming another, very pressing engagement which, to his deep regret, he could not get out of (away from).

Also of interest was that Lamont Gudaren only put up a token show of displeasure as he acceded to the request. As Lenny Sukzor discreetly slipped away during a distraction provided by a brilliant gymnast, Nevetsecnuac was shocked (struck), by the tacit smile exchanged behind his back by the Prime Minister and Zaur Stugr.

“It’s all a chess game with them!”  He scoffed. Clearly there were no real victims here, only adroit players, each quite adept at strategic manoeuvring of pieces into posts, all the while tugging on the strings of deception and laying invisible traps, to hasten the astonishing yet feral conclusion.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

                                                                                              ~ 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 15

 Zhadol, after concluding his business wistfully looked up at the blinking star-studded sky and sighed. "It’s so peaceful here in the bosom of nature, I enjoy it simply, the gentle breeze caressing my cheeks and the rustling of the leaves."  Reaching upwards, his palm brushed against the swaying branches and the whispering leaves.  Just then a sudden, cold, unexplained shudder, however, ran through him and, stepping back decisively, his keen eyes searched for the upper echelons of thick foliage.  He had sensed a presence there among the branches, but Nevetsecnuac's well camouflaged form eluded him. 

01- WELL CAMOUFLAGED NEVETSECNUAC

After a moment Zhadol laughed at his own stupidity, “Who would dare spy on us?”  

Of course, he was thinking only of the other guards.

"Bah, a bustling city, filled with human intrigues is more to my liking." Yennic, meanwhile, oblivious to his thought, had disdainfully countered.  "You're too much of a poet to be in this line of business; it beats me how you've survived thus far."

"Cynicism does not become you."   Zhadol's sharp retort cut Yennic short.  He was about to walk away when he abruptly turned to look back at the tree.

 "It’s a pity that neither of those two scholars we'd offed (killed)earlier, wasn't him; but then, such is the quirks(flukes) of fate.” He simply shrugged.  “Unfortunately, they had born such an uncanny resemblance to the description.”

"Eh, that was their misfortune, an insignificant insect or two crushed, what difference does it make anyhow?  I'd rather be deemed an efficient (thorough), albeit brutal trooper (guardsman), than risk letting that sly academic slip through our snare (noose, trap)." Yennic responded (coldly), contemptuously.

"Well, you're not in charge so, irrespective of how you feel about scholars, in future we will take extra precautions and use discretionary judgment before we claim another innocent life.  Order the guards to show more restraint next time, they are not to engage until Fradel Rurik Korvald's identity has been verified."

"And what if that cursed Scholar slips through our hands because of your magnanimity?" Yennic asked wryly.

"There you go, imagining things.”

“A moment ago, you weren't even certain that he'd come this way at all.  Now you're determined to butcher all academics (erudite individuals) who use this pass on the off chance he may slip through.  What are you fretting about, anyhow?  As the Commanding Officer, you know full well that the responsibility for the outcome (success or failure) of our mission lies solely with me and me alone.  In the unlikely event of a flop, you will still be spared the maximum penalty."  Zhadol ejected sternly then turned his back to the trees and strode back to the cave.

02-EGIL VIGGORIES 1- JP

"You needn't be so strident.  My concern was more for your sake than mine.  Everyone knows how intolerant his Excellency Egil Viggories is of least failure; it doesn’t take much to ……” Yennic held back what he was about to say and instead, bit the corner of his lip then, wishing to change the subject, shook his head. “Still, how your moods alternate on a whim!  They're as changeable as the wind." Yennic grumbled sourly, shaking his head.  "It never hurts to consider all the avenues, you know.  All right, even though I think you're making a big mistake, I'll pass your order to the men."  His grunts of compliance trailed Zhadol into the distance.

“Yes, he may have seemingly erred in his directive (command), but by ordering his guards not to be too hasty in attack, he has saved their lives and spared me the pointless bloody battle.” Nevetsecnuac watching the two receding figures, heaved a thankful sigh (moan, exhalation). Then, as soon as it was safe for him to do so, he swiftly descended from the tree top and headed back in the opposite direction from the two officers, taking care to avoid any other probable traps.  Blending in perfectly with nature and moving like a swift shadow, he traversed over the sometimes-dangerous terrain to soon reach the spot where he had tethered the mare.

In the nick of time too, it seemed!

Without a moment's hesitation unarmed as he was, armed with a sturdy, weighty pole (hefty stick), he rushed to the assistance of the poor, exhausted horse, virtually snatching him from the jaws of death.  The ensuing struggle between Nevetsecnuac and the disgruntled, ferocious beast that refused to give up its prey lasted but briefly.  It was Nevetsecnuac's remarkable courage, ingenuity, unyielding strength and agility, combined with his relentless defense of the mount, unyielding strength and agility that had won him the advantage in the end. The predator had eventually forsaken his aim, retreated(withdrew) back into the dark foliage and, after issuing one last threat in the form of a fierce growl (retreated) withdrew to disappear instantly amidst the dense, pitch-dark foliage.

03- PREDITOR BENT ON EATING THE HORSE

 The dangerous predicament alleviated, and the mare's fears finally allayed, while Nevetsecnuac was tending, washing off the blood and applying medicinal plant poultices to the horse’s few cuts and abrasions (bitemarks), it was then that the plausible idea suddenly struck (dawned on) him.  After a moment's consideration and stroking his chin, Nevetsecnuac exulted, “Why not?  It should work.  It certainly was a viable cover.”

Forthwith, Nevetsecnuac gathered (obtained) the readily available material from the (nature) woods and then fashioned himself a remarkable bow and enough arrows. The remainder of the night until subsequent day’s mid-morning, Nevetsecnuac additionally utilizing the hastily constructed, though humanely effective animal-traps, had vigorously hunted all types of wild game (that thrived in the woodland regions).  When he had accumulated sufficient sum, he strapped and secured the amassed pelts (furs) and carcasses for his apt disguise onto, back of the saddle, concealing well, the luggage.  Next, his bow and quiver filled with (freshly made) arrows slung over his back, Nevetsecnuac in one fluid motion gracefully swung into the saddle and, looping the reins quickly over his hands, galloped with sure determination at top speed towards Cyprecox Pass.

He arrived at the ambush spot just as the slanted, golden rays of the mid-afternoon sun cast long, hazy shadows on the earth.  However, instead of maintaining his gallop as one might expect, he slowed the mare down to a canter.

The ruse had worked perfectly, dispelling all suspicion thus far.

Predictably, Nevetsecnuac had noted a fleeting flash of light (gleam) reflected off the metal armor of the sentry and felt the two suspicious pairs of eyes avidly (studying him) spying on him from above.  Soon the number had multiplied, yet no officers or sentinels emerged from hiding to accost him or in any way intercept his path.  Under this intense scrutiny, Nevetsecnuac unflinchingly rode on.

04- NEVETSECNUAC THE HUNTER 2-JP

Mid-way, he imagined the kind of exchange Zhadol and Yennic most certainly would be having at that very moment and provocatively (boldly) raising his head looked up directly at the spot they would be hiding and then, smiled teasingly.

Remarkably, it was at this moment that the horse, already spooked by the hidden guards, began to whinny, and bolt, placing Nevetsecnuac in a most compromising situation.  Yet the expected onslaught did not happen.

“Has my disguise fooled them so completely…Even that skeptic, Yennic?  This has been far too easy.”  If he had known the truth, that it was his formidable countenance as he rode high in the saddle that provided the real deterrent to rash action on the guard's part, Nevetsecnuac would have smiled more.

A chilling shudder had passed through all the ambushers and each, inwardly, had professed that this mighty hunter was not one to be trifled with, and could only be engaged only at consequential peril.  Their curious eyes nevertheless watched how Nevetsecnuac brought the beast quickly under control again then steered it towards the narrowest, most dangerous part of the pass. 

Strategically, this would be the most opportune time and place for them to strike, to intercept him even if only for a sport.

The air was so still, the atmosphere so laden with tension that only the solitary tread of the wary horse resounded in vibrations off the jutting cliffs that bounded the road on both sides.

At the midpoint of the pass however, the anticipated, taunting arrow boldly pierced the air, aimed straight at Nevetsecnuac's heart.

05-NEVETSECNUAC THE HUNTER 12- JP

Keeping his mount in check, Nevetsecnuac, unperturbed, twisted sideways, reached out his left hand and (intercepted) plucked the arrow out of midflight.  Faster than the eye could follow, he retrieved his bow, notched the arrow and, at the precise moment, let the missile fly. 

Dead on center, it collided with the second arrow just as it had left Yennic's hiding spot.  Both arrows locked together and fell harmlessly to the ground.

The laughter died quickly in Yennic's throat.  He turned to Zhadol who shook his head in astonishment and commented, "Never have I seen such marksmanship and, never before have I ever witnessed such remarkable prowess."

The other guards exchanged wide-eyed looks and exclaimed in unison their awe, "Truly, a most magnificent skill… how fantastic!"

06- NEVETSECNUAC THREATENS  JP

Before they had a chance to retaliate, however, Nevetsecnuac glared and boldly shouted out his dare and his warning then, taking an arrow from his own quiver, he notched it, raised his bow high as he twisted sideways, and took straight aim at the large rock behind which most of the force was concealed.  He drew back the string until the bow sang with tension then let the arrow fly with such force that it buried itself half the way up its shaft into the solid stone.

Zhadol shifted his position to view the shot.  "That's incredible…such awesome power!"  Yennic, meanwhile, was infuriated at being made the fool and, with curses forming on his lips, had started to stand up and go after the hunter, whatever the cost.  It was his good fortune that the strong arm of Zhadol held him back from an early grave.  "Stay your ground, Lieutenant!  That's an order!"

"But are we going to let him make a mockery of us all?  Are we going to let that arrogant (bully) brute’s affront, his taunt go unanswered?  There's only one of him and…" 

Yennic's grumbles softened moment later as he changed his tune, attempting to cajole Zhadol, "All right, if we are not to challenge him for that then let me at least make his acquaintance.  Don't you think it would be a great boon for our force to recruit such a hunter/warrior, however arrogant?"

"I said stay your ground, Lieutenant!" Zhadol barked.  His lingering, menacing gaze seemed to say, “Don’t you dare contradict my orders again in front of the men or I'll have your hide! “When Yennic, cowering in silence, dropped his eyes, Zhadol explained, "Such men are not interested in any affiliations, Lieutenant, they are loners by choice."  He then reasoned further that, being at the pass on secret orders, they could not expose themselves to a possible scout or spy unless there was the certainty of recruiting or killing him.  Even if this rider was neither and was, in truth, a lone hunter, he could let loose an inadvertent word here or there to the authorities and oblige the contingent to furnish an account of their purpose.  Even at best, it would be a sticky situation for them all.  There had been enough senseless killing already from which, just this once, Zhadol wished a reprieve. He summed it all up by saying, "It is obvious, Yennic, that this man is no docile Scholar and therefore cannot possibly be the object of our target."

"So, we will let him pass, the lucky dog!"  Yennic clenched his teeth and watched in mute hostility; as Nevetsecnuac, without further incident or provocation, rode passed his horse unscathed through the talons of danger.

                                                                                    ~

 

(END OF SECTION 15)  

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 34

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 34

At sunrise of the subsequent day with all accounts at the Inn quickly settled, Mouro and his company (Kade Luir and Dag Diez) quietly departed.  Reaching the dirt road they then relentlessly surged forward at lightning speed leaving in their wake a trail (cloud) of dust. Mouro, with secret purpose in mind,  led his group through a different sort of paths (that snaked over a rougher terrain) than the ones he had followed the previous night; nevertheless, despite the precarious topography, they had pushed on relentlessly not stopping to eat or rest until, finally, just before dusk, they arrived at the specific stone bridge, spanning a bottomless chasm.

 There they met up with three mounted guards who had taken an alternate route. Mouro frostily nodded to the fair-haired guard in acknowledgement, a sort of greeting, ignoring the two stalwarts, heavily armed, tall guards flanking him. Mouro held in check his fury, of the two guards’ obvious failure.

01- FAIR HAIRED GUARD

No words were necessary, all dismounting at once, Mouro in the lead, they cautiously led their mount across the bridge.  As they advanced a certain (foreboding) amount of trepidation, however, filled their hearts when no one accosted them on the opposite side; instead, an eerie silence prevailed, heightening the tension of the air. With only the sound of their footsteps filling their ears, those in front cautiously pushed open the half standing iron gates to the temple and stepped across the threshold. All at once (suddenly), the stench of death assailed their noses as they were struck by the sight of countless maimed and mutilated corpses littering the courtyard, floating in pools of their own blood.

"What treachery is this?" The fair-haired guard pointed at the corpses and glared at Mouro.

"Why do you ask me?  This atrocity is clearly the work of the assassin, Zonar." Mouro sneered as he froze Diez's hand on his sword hilt with a commanding glance.  “Not yet!” It spoke. “He’ll be dealt with soon enough.”

"No, this is not Zonar's work.  These men were all murdered by a coward, one who poisoned them before mutilating their corpses.  There's no use denying it, I tracked you here last night.  Your game is up.  Call the rest of your vile dogs out of hiding."  Fradel Rurik Korvald, bristling, with fiery contempt in his eyes, rebuked Mouro.

Checking his surprise, Mouro glared for a moment at the two companion guards of Fradel, seething with burning rage for their incompetence which had now placed him in this predicament; but then in a change of heart, he pinned his wrathful gaze back on Fradel.

"How dare vermin like you call me a coward to my face?  I'll wrest your quivering liver up through your throat and make you eat it with those words." 

Mouro’s hand involuntarily clasped his sword's hilt, itching to strike Fradel down right then and there; but curiosity getting the better of him, he released his grip and, suppressing his fury, with a scathing sneer, he coldly demanded: "How long have you known?"

02- (PINNING HIS GAZE) MOURO KERR

"From the start;" came Fradel's wry response.  "I knew I was not being led to a meeting with my benefactor, Zonar.  I went along; just the same, to see how far you and your goons would be willing to go."

 Fradel, with not a shred of fear, knowingly eyed his companion guards and then cast his gaze to the high compound walls circling him that had just then become dotted with armed foes.

Fifty-nine formidable warrior guards clad in full armor, specifically picked for their competence to contest Zonar's prowess, brandishing their swords, stood their ground, in readiness for the anticipated order for the onslaught.

It quickly (dawned on) became clear to Fradel that these were the inferred agents in the previous night's conversation between Mouro and Hecun, only they were planted, not by Micen as the former had claimed, but rather by the culprit, cunning Mouro himself.  Weaving the web of treachery ever tighter they, accordingly, had spread wild rumors and suspicions about the wine to the intended victims.  But when, in turn, they were invited by Hecun to partake of some, they had most willingly guzzled it down, avoiding instead the laced water from the well to conclude the vile, treacherous deed of barbarically annihilating the incapacitated where they had fallen.

Now, the instant the armed foe had sprung into view from their hiding places, Fradel had, with lightning speed, turning their weapons against them, vanquished (bested) those formidable assassins that had accompanied him. He then with his unyielding, unflinching, solid defensive stance (posture) faced Mouro.

A momentary shudder brushed against Mouro's heart; for unarmed as he was, Fradel Rurik Korvald still looked most formidable.

 Compounding his consternation, Mouro recalled just then Fradel's unusual doggedness (grit) and fortitude (resilience) in the court.  How when he was on the brink, incensed, chained though he was, he had strained his bonds almost to the breaking point.

“A fine, heroic, picture you represent.”  Disregarding his strong premonition of doom, Mouro, nevertheless emboldened by their numbers, simply sneered.

 He threw his head back and laughed uproariously next.  "What gall!”

“Hah; Clearly your benefactor has abandoned you to fend for yourself; what makes you think that you can take us all on, (unarmed) bare handed?" he scoffed.

"I have righteousness as my armor and weapon; that is more than enough. All your evil ways will end here! “Fradel responded sternly.

"And who appointed you judge?" Mouro indignantly spat on the ground.

 "You scholars disgust me, always spouting useless, empty rhetoric! Why not just surrender to your fate, a pretty boy like you, and get down on your knees to beg for mercy?"  Dag Diez just then interjected scowling. He next threw a quick knowing smirk at Mouro.

03- DAG DIEZ

 Before Fradel could respond Mouro, highly incensed by Dag Diez's insubordination, had struck him a severe blow across the mouth with the back of his fist, knocking loose the guard's incisor teeth. The shamefaced Dag Diez, swallowing his fury, spat the teeth to the ground; next, submissively wiping the blood trickling off his chin, he grunted an insincere apology to Mouro.

Ignoring him entirely, Mouro had instead locked his burning gaze on Fradel. Seeing Fradel now in a different light, Mouro (with his hand signal) forestalled the order for the assault and fixedly (keenly) at present, scrutinized this mystifying, worthy adversary.

A scholar…  He looked more Like a...  Mouro could not rightly grasp the… thought.

Disregarding the feeling of an ominous shadow falling over his own self perceived omnipotence and coveting Fradel's noble air; with intense curiosity trampling reason, he scathingly hissed:

"So, you’d anticipated me all along, yet you willingly walked right into this ambush.  That makes you either a very courageous man or a foolhardy one.  But tell me first, since you are so smart at figuring things out, did you also guess that, to create a diversion, the humane physician Sullen Adams would be sacrificed, condemned to slow, torturous death in that iron cage in your stead?"

Mouro had pointed at the discarded, upturned (overturned) prisoner’s iron cage off to the side; but then, answered his own query (question) with a gloat, as he circled Fradel menacingly.

 "No, I see you did not.  To tell the truth I felt no real animosity at all towards Sullen personally, when I presented (offered, posed) the suggestion to Micen Do. Mouro smirked.

04- PHYSICIAN SULLEN ADAMS

“Yes, he was rather an amiable fellow, and we are kinsmen, after all but," he shrugged his shoulders dispassionately; "he brought this on himself.  He had become expendable you see.  Foolishly ignoring all good advice, he kept on preaching justice and morality to Micen and me, as if in such precarious times that it mattered, and worse still, he always stuck up for the underdog, amassing (accruing) unwarranted enmity (rancor, malice)."

Mouro pursed his lips mockingly, "He was supportive and obliging to you as well, was he not?  Well, I had to repay him for his courtesy to you, since you were indisposed.  You scholars, so righteous and honor bound, you always insist on settling all old accounts (scores).”

“Do you wish to know how I did it, how I paid him back in full on your behalf?  No need to thank me for it."  Mouro threw his head back and laughed menacingly.

 "Oh, but it was entirely, my pleasure, your honor (eminence)," then slightly inclined his head mockingly.

 "Yes, you require details…But I'll be succinct.  After his visit with you I had his tongue cut out, his face mutilated and then, bound up like a pig about to be taken to the market for slaughter, he was stuffed in there, to rot in your stead.  But then, it was a strategic (importance) imperative that he took your place and, “Mouro smirked. “Also, that you now perish here, by my hand."

Mouro, facing Fradel squarely (directly) now, brandished his sword.  "Now I will double my pleasure by doing the same to you, only worse! I'll savor your death in bits.  My sword will split you asunder like a ripe melon and leave you swimming in your own entrails."

The absence of fear or emotional reaction of any kind on the stone (wooden) face of Fradel Rurik Korvald infuriated Mouro to the point of total exasperation.

“This is truly a momentous occasion, well deserving of attribution from posterity, for within the next few minutes the overrated illustrious Fradel Rurik Korvald will cease to exist.  He will be no more!" Mouro had uttered the last sentence in resounding voice, disguised as boastful proclamation, as the specific command for the armed force that had already encircled Fradel, to stand ready for the assault (onslaught).

"The only thing you will savor will be your own end."  Fradel's retort was, at first, in an even tone. "By your own vile deeds, you have flouted Heaven's will.  The time for retribution is near at hand, yet you are too blind to see it.  Very soon, in the afterlife, you will be judged and asked to account for your abhorrent crimes against humanity.  Instead of boasting about your prowess, you should be on your knees, trembling in fear, and begging for redemption."

As he’d continued, Fradel's voice by degrees had grown in intensity, thundering across the ground to send cold shivers down Mouro's spine and make his hair stand on end.

"Enough said!"  Mouro regained his grip on himself then, on his hand signal, simultaneously with the rest of the guards, launched a deadly assault on the scholar Fradel.

Fradel repulsed them all.  Dodging and swerving to avert the many murderous, repeated blows, the strikes from swords, spears and halberds as they were thrust at him from all directions, now on the defensive, now on the offensive, in a maneuver unseen before and waylaid dozens of them in a flash.

05--FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC)

Then in an astonishing turn he delivered a fierce, swift kick directly to Mouro's chest which hurled Mouro up into the air and, flipping him over, landed him flat on his rear end on top of the others who had fallen.  His sword flew from his hand, landing upright a few feet away.  Had Mouro not worn his armor under his civil garb, he would not have been able to get up off the ground in one piece.

  As it was, his ribs were unbroken and only his pride was hurt.

"All of you stay back!  He's mine!"

 Mouro fiercely bellowed his order as he rushed to pick up his sword from the ground.  Then he charged (on horseback) like a mad bull straight for Fradel Rurik Korvald, wielding the sword in zigzag, across and interlaced styles.

The well-armed guards, silently nursing their grievance, picked themselves up off the ground and, in compliance, joined the others to assemble into a tight, impenetrable cordon encircling the combatants.  There, with blood boiling and burning eyes pinned to Fradel Rurik Korvald, they studiously traced his every maneuver, his every move during the ensuing hours of fierce fighting.  Avidly they searched to find any weakness in Fradel's combat style, but he appeared to be invincible and continued to be just as lethal without a weapon as his opponent was when armed.

Mouro was a competent fighter in his own right, with an untarnished record of victories over many worthy opponents and famed champions.  Mouro's style of fencing, especially his waterwheel and reverse dragonfly styles, was superb; still, it soon became apparent that he was experiencing difficulty in keeping Fradel Rurik Korvald at bay, let alone in besting him.  Whirling like a devil, Mouro struck, thrust and hacked at Fradel repeatedly but all his efforts were in vain.  After ten rounds, as hungry as his blade was to taste blood, it could not effect (realize) even so much as a scratch on Fradel Rurik Korvald.  Worse still, while the scholar had maintained his strength, Mouro's effort looked to be waning.

When Mouro's blade, meeting resistance under Fradel's grip, suddenly snapped in two in the midst of the fierce fighting, Mouro quickly jumped out of the combat circle to retrieve another weapon.  Diez and the rest of the guards, anxious to display their might, seized this opening and, brandishing their weapons, were spontaneously spurred into action, launching offensive after offensive.  As they continued to engage Fradel, Mouro, having flung aside his broken ancestor sword, pried loose the good sword from the half-severed hand of Hecun then charged back in fury through the lines to join in the fray and again combat Fradel Rurik Korvald head on.

Just then on the opposite side Diez, taking advantage of the general mayhem, had ducked and swerved fiercely to get into a position to fiercely thrust his sword at Fradel's lower back.  Meeting a resistance, he received instead a serious blow to the head which then knocked him to the ground, unconscious.

06 -FRADEL (NEVETS)

 Mouro, deflecting the second blow aimed in his direction, managed to fall behind the lines of fighting men then rushed to Diez's side.

 Instead of lending him assistance, reviving him or pulling him aside, as everyone expected he might do, he instead severed Diez's head from his limp body in one swift stroke of his blade then, stepping squarely over the headless corpse, pushed on ahead through the line of combat to launch his deadly assault on Fradel Rurik Korvald anew.

 In the ferocity of the struggle, no one had stopped to make sense of this treachery except for Fradel, who readily understood in light of what he had heard of Mouro's conversation the previous night.  Mouro's precaution had made it apparent that part of the tale he concocted for Hecun was the truth.

As the Earth was mantled in darkness, beacon fires had been lit to assist the crescent moon in lighting up the dilapidated temple grounds.  Meanwhile the fierce fighting continued without pause as the battle cries filled the silence of the night, disturbing the dead.

 Despite the guards' effective armors, their superiority of arms and their joint deadly assaults, their combined tactical offensives against one unarmed man whose wounds had not yet completely healed, with all the odds seemingly against Fradel Rurik Korvald he still managed to turn the tide of destiny in his favor.

Besides effectively repulsing their ineffective assaults, unyielding in strength and resilience as he was, he seemed to be endowed with a superhuman ability, striking swiftly like the wind.  So powerful were his maneuvers, his deflections and his counter assaults that, in a whirling feat, the blades of his opposition snapped asunder at the hilts, spears got entangled and halberds became totally ineffective as his fierce blows penetrated through the armor to vanquish them all.

 All, that is, except Mouro.

Realizing the hopelessness of their situation well before the rest, Mouro, in mortal fear for his life, created a diversion and had turned tail and ran, abandoning his men in the thick of battle to their own devices of defense or, more specifically, to their own impending doom but Fradel, disposing of the rest in one sweep, had raced after Mouro.

The culprit, Mouro, having previously scouted the temple grounds, knew well which turns to take or which path to follow to avoid the many pitfalls, perilous snares and booby-traps that the years of neglect and the ravages of nature had compounded.

 Having led Fradel to a maze of underground tunnels in the interior, designed specifically by the former denizens to entrap unwanted intruders, Mouro, weaving in and out, tried his utmost, though unsuccessfully, to shake Fradel off of his trail.

“He is so formidable; just my luck to come across someone so prodigious, so entirely relentless….” Suddenly an inexplicable fear filled Mouro’s heart realizing his own measure of inadequacies, limitations, while being pursued by this invincible foe.

 What kind of Scholar was he… endowed with such incessant superhuman qualities? Or was he a Demon posing as a scholar?

                                                                                   ~

 

(END OF SECTION 34- THE CONCLUSION OF THE STATE OF THINGS)