LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 21

 When dawn broke Zunrogo promptly knocked at Fradel Rurik Korvald's door.

Permission granted, he entered with a smile on his lips, carrying a bundle in his hand, trailed by the servant boy, burdened with a generous array of breakfast victuals on a tray.

Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald had just finished his packing, having risen early in anticipation of this meeting.

01- ZUNROGO TUGO JP 4

After an exchange of polite greetings, "I took the liberty of ordering you a wholesome breakfast with local cuisine." Zunrogo grimaced, signaling the boy to put the tray on the table and to leave the room at once.

As soon as the door was closed behind him, Zunrogo advanced on Fradel and courteously presented him with the bundle, urging him to try it on.

"I thank you for your thoughtful gift but since I am already dressed…" Fradel could not resist teasing him.

Zunrogo abruptly halted his ready rebuke (and the persuasive argument on his tongue) when he noted the slight glint (twinkle) in Fradel's eyes and understood his jest.  Smiling, he evenly informed Fradel that his account had been settled in full and that, as soon as he was ready, they would depart.

Then, officiously declaring that he still needed to see some last-minute details, he headed out the door before Fradel could thank him for his troubles.

Back in his room, Zunrogo expediently wrapped up all the loose ends. The Innkeeper Kjeld Rosko, having received assurances from the captain himself that his captive family, including his adored infant son, would all be released the moment after their departure, nodded his head in gratitude and then contentedly left the room.

As Kjeld headed down the long hallway, however, a sudden concern clouded his face and he, abruptly for a spell, stayed his step; slight trepidation, almost a glint of fear, fleetingly registering in his pupils as he with lowered head deliberated on the Kozur’s viable rescue plan. “The captain, now there's someone to be reckoned with!”  Kjeld, nevertheless, could not hold back a shiver.

This business of the guard Tizan, however, staying behind to ensure that there was no disruption or deception, seemed reasonable yet; it still put Kjeld Rosko a bit on his unease. With each step, a kind of needling feeling that he could not rightly put a finger on, etched a deeper frown on Kjeld’s face.

“It nearly killed me to be so reticent (taciturn, aloof, quiet); but at least my disguise was effective. And when have the Kozurs ever failed me, or anyone? Now, stop all your needless worrying!” Kjeld admonished self.  Besides, he was certain they wouldn't dare try anything too drastic with Magistrate Liros there; but more importantly, fortuitously, he had the backing of Kozurs.

Kjeld’s fears, bit more assuaged (eased, lessened), he rushed his steps to meet the affiliate agent and possibly receive (acquiring) the long awaited, anticipated, good news, news that his family was safe and away from the perilous predicament. He would be joining them when this whole business was satisfactorily dealt with. Meanwhile, with the captain and his other brutes gone, this Tizan thug, then, could aptly be handled (properly deceived, duped) by the Kozurs. 

02- KJELD ROSKO WAITS FOR THE KOZUR AGENT

Having received secret notification, that the clandestine meeting would instead, take place in the (crypt) cellar, a covert room accessed only by a trap door well concealed behind the stacks of forte (specialty) wine barrels, Kjeld headed straight down there. As Kjeld in partial darkness waited for the agent to show up, seated at the table, his fingers nervously tapping the table, his wild imagination meanwhile carefully enumerated the last week’s odd events. Unbidden, one unsubstantiated fact suddenly snuck (stole) to mind and so, the worry lines once more got etched in his brow (forehead); nevertheless, he strove to ease his fears: “Besides, haven't I dealt with far worse situations and came out of it sailing?  In this line of business, it’s to be expected.  I just hope Leon makes good time, for then…” Kjeld looked at the door, nervous but still satisfied. “Yes, then I can still expect to be amply, if not well compensated for all my troubles and inconvenience. Pity, though, this place would be so destroyed!”

                                                                                 ~

Zunrogo was fastening his jeweled broadsword onto his waist when Tizan suddenly appeared at the door.  He beckoned the guard and signaled him to close the door.

 "Well, is everything all set?"

"Yes sir.  I'll be joining you on the road after the successful conclusion of my task."

"It is imperative that those in question be eliminated without a trace.  None are to survive, understand?"

"You needn’t warn me of its importance, sir." Tizan responded without a shred of conscience.  "Please go with an easy mind.  It (sudden explosion resulting in fire) will be made to look like an accident, warranting no investigation at all.  However, if you wish, I could plant certain incriminating evidence to involve…”

"No, that will not be necessary." The captain cut him off.  "Don't deviate from the original plan."

                                                                                   ~

After breakfasting and having sent his luggage on ahead, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel), now disguised as one of the palace guards, retrieved the papers from their hiding place and secured them in the inner pocket of his garb (uniform) that were, in fact, more comfortable and more suitable for traveling than his cumbersome, restrictive scholar's attire.

After a cursory look around to see to it that nothing was left behind, he closed the door quietly behind him and quickly descended the stairs.  Meeting the Captain in the lobby ready and waiting, he was then (shepherded) lead to the outside where men and horses awaited in readiness of the departure.

03- NEVETSECNUAC IN IMPERIAL UNIFORM

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) had been forewarned to a certain degree that there would be two guards flanking him, along on the journey, with another to be joining them later, but these two who came to smart attention were not what he had expected.  One he had never seen before and the other.  His eyes rested on the figure of Briac, who had been disguised to look like scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald.

 "I went along with your suggestion of wearing these clothes, sir, but this, this is intolerable!" Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) burrowed his cold gaze on the captain, not flinching.

This unexpected, irate, moral indignation from the supercilious scholar put Zunrogo (for a spell,) at a complete loss for words.

As Captain of the Palace Guards, the most elite force in Channing, and the secret member of the ruthless Black Band Guard, which was Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek’s personal militia, Zunrogo was the fourth most feared, most powerful, invincible warrior/statesman in Wenjenkun; right after Sovereign, the Minister of Internal Security Egil Vigoaries and The Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren.  No other had ever been so brazened enough to stand up to or, been in, least defiance of Zunrogo and lived; more astonishingly still, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), with his features set in firm defiance obdurately had demanded an explanation from Zunrogo.

“Are you goading (provoking) me; do you have a secret wish for death?”

"Sir, this is where I draw the line.” Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) undaunted by Zunrogo’s menacing glower, (look of daggers) obstinately grumbled. “I will not, in all good conscience, have another’s life be put in jeopardy on account of me!"

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) was stanchly (resolutely) considering, rescinding their prior arrangement when the captain, with a curt gesture of his hand, silenced him and roughly pulled him aside. Pinning his face right into Fradel’s, Zunrogo, gritting his teeth, threatened: "You would have been instantly slayed, chopped down for this insubordination; now act like a proper soldier (guard) or else!”

But then, quickly curtailing his fiery temper, in a more moderate tone, Zunrogo reasoned: “I know how it looks, but I assure you, sir, it is necessary."  His cutting tone, nevertheless, was a warning to Fradel, to back off, that, if necessary, he would be carried off, trussed, and bound.

Bearing in mind that he was supposed to be an arrogant but a mild-mannered scholar, Nevetsecnuac (as Fradel), biting his lip, he now checked his derisive (scornful) rebuke.  At that juncture (point in time), a low murmur drew his attention to the side door of the inn.  Nevetsecnuac’s keen eyes caught a fleeting shadow just before the individual darted inside and completely disappeared.  He let it pass.

"I thought you said that there was no real danger," more composed now, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) turned to address Zunrogo.

"Less for them than you," Zunrogo answered irritably, indicating Briac with his chin.  Raising his voice slightly, on pretext, he admonished Fradel, "Now, sir, I will not have you undermining my authority and demoralizing my men with all your questions."

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) checked his temper as well, understanding at once that the rebuke was more for the benefit of his double and that there was something graver at stake here.

“Briac, the guard chosen to impersonate you, is the one best suited for this.  His selection was made only after serious consideration."  Zunrogo shifted his body slightly, shielding his face from the view of the guards.  He looked meaningfully at Fradel Rurik Korvald, his gaze and fierce eyes speaking the words that could not be freely uttered, darkness, treachery; furthermore, it warned, stay out of what does not concern you; this turncoat (collaborator) will soon get just his desserts.

Comprehending, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) turned and looked at Briac with an impassive, blank expression. The guard's face completely ashen, his’s eyes at first looked strangely pained and grave then got filled with loathing when they met Fradel's, after which, he lowered his head abjectly.

Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) returned his expressionless gaze back to Zunrogo, who’d this entire period scrutinized him like a hawk with the cruel half-smile plastered on his lips.  Behind the Captain's seemingly stern mask, his eyes betrayed a profound, impenetrable darkness carrying a brutal, implicit threat not only for Briac but also for Fradel.

04- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC) IN ARMY UNIFORM

Unflinching, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) affably (genially) smiled at Zunrogo and he, relenting, perfunctorily smiled back. But underneath the seeming cordiality, Zunrogo pondered. “Yes, you are more than what you seem.  You are no ordinary scholar.  Your aim is much higher. I will therefore watch you, watch you very carefully, Fradel Rurik Korvald, or whatever your real name may be.  It bothers me greatly when I can see that you are not afraid of death, but I will find out the reason why, before this expedition concludes.”

Outwardly tranquil, as if his prior ambiguity had allayed (dispelled), Zunrogo nodded, "I'm glad we finally understand each other; now we can quickly put all this unpleasantness behind us and amicably proceed; as I am most anxious to get started on this trip."

Turning, Zunrogo signaled (cued) the groom to bring forth Briac’s strong steed, inclined his head politely and invited (disguised) Fradel Rurik Korvald to mount up.

 Alternately, Briac was helped by one of the grooms, to mount Scholar Fradel’s relatively inferior mare.

 

                                                                                   ~

(END OF SECTION 21)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL – SECTION 20

When Zunrogo returned to Room Ten Tizan, who had been seated complacently by the fire, sprang to attention at once.

"When did you get back?" Zunrogo asked as he closed the door behind him.

"I preceded you only by minutes, sir." Tizan smiled.

Sitting in the comfortable chair opposite Tizan, he signaled with his chin for the guard to sit down again then leaned back to get more comfortable.  "Well, let’s hear it."

01-TZAN JP

"In accordance with your orders, sir, I kept a close eye on Briac.  As anticipated, shortly after retiring to the room he shares with Frastos, I observed Briac sneaking back out again and followed him down the side alleys to the shop of the local barber on Kannicro Street.  When he entered these premises, I proceeded to climb to the roof and literally eavesdrop on their conspiracy.  It seems that we have not weeded out all the spies in the vicinity, sir. 

Despite Briac's intimidation, the barber still insisted on being paid more for the services of one of his messenger pigeons, yet that tightwad eventually gave up on his curses and met the barber halfway.  A short message was attached to the leg of the bird, and it was set free.  As you per your prior instructions, I did not intercept its flight."  He paused for affirmation.

"You were right in doing that."  Zunrogo was pleased.  "I knew that he would be sending out a message in one form or another soon after the briefing but this pigeon business, I confess, is somewhat precarious, though culpable.  Where did the barber keep them?  How was it, these courier pigeons escaped the now questionable, thorough inspection of the premise?"

"In the attic, sir, behind a false wall… The bleating of a goat kept in the room drowned out the pigeons ‘cooing."

"Keeping a goat in the attic?  And that did not warrant an investigation?"

"Frastos could hardly be blamed, sir.  The barber had concocted a plausible excuse; he said that his senile old mother, who slept in the same room, believed the goat to be her deceased husband returned to this life in another form.  In addition, an ingenious contraption had to be dismantled before the wall gave way.  Apparently, this was there to discourage the old woman from tampering with the pigeons."

"I assume, the situation was corrected then after Briac's departure?"

"Expediently, sir… The barber, his wife, his senile mother, and the remaining birds have all been dispatched, liberated from this world.  The well in the courtyard, however, will not be of much use for some time, I'm afraid."  He grinned coldly.

"I thought, Tizan, that you always liked to be thorough, but I see that I was wrong." Zunrogo smiled wryly at the guard's nonplused expression.

"The goat." he said and chuckled with good humor.

 Tizan grinned, catching the joke.

 "Now, to this business with Briac"

"Excuse me, sir." Tizan interrupted.  "I took liberty, knowing what little time we have, to initiate a solution."  He stalled, seeing the anger flame up in the captain's eyes.

Zunrogo checked his anger.  Tizan, he knew, was a competent underling and he tried not to discourage initiative.  "You have a plan, Tizan?" he asked sternly.  "Well then, let’s hear it."

"Well, sir, only part of it has been implemented.  If it meets with your censure, nothing much is lost.  I wanted to consult with you before carrying out the rest of it."

Zunrogo was intrigued. “All right, at least he's not being overly ambitious.”

Still, he had to confirm, "You, of course, did no harm to Briac?"

02 - BRIAC (2)

"No sir. That would be tantamount to disobeying your orders."

"Let’s hear it, then.  What is it, this great plan of yours?"

"Well, sir, it involves using this."  Tizan picked up a fair size pouch he had kept by the side of the chair until then and, rising, handed it over to the captain.

Zunrogo, with a certain curiosity, peered inside.  At once he apprehended the plan and he beamed, "Well done."

"You approve, then."

"Quite; it’s a fitting end for him, I say."  He handed the pouch back to Tizan.  "You must have been toying with this idea for some time."

"For a while now, sir; however, I had to be first assured of Briac's treachery."  His eyes fell on the pouch.  "Unfortunately, the previous owner was not obliging, and I had to resort to force." Tizan explained dispassionately.

Zunrogo’s heart winced.  He did not need to ask whether the victim was mercifully dispatched or had writhed (squirmed) in agony, for he knew Tizan only too well. In that remote fishing village where once Tizan had lived till about month or so before at the age of twelve, well, Tizan’s cruel stepfather Zianko had done a lot in shaping, unleashing Tizan’s sadistic nature.  (You may check back to: Book 1 – Fisherman’s Prize – Section 3).  

Tizan, since his recruitment, had been rather useful in accomplishing exceedingly difficult, most abhorred tasks; for his conscience never bothered him, in fact, he reveled in it.  His sadistic nature consistently craved, fed on the sufferings of others, even more so when he, himself, inflicted the pain.

"Well, I expect you still have a few more details to see (tend) too." Zunrogo, with a wave of his hand, abruptly dismissed Tizan.  But then, as the guard was headed towards the door, Zunrogo offhand voiced his query: "How will you do it, without waking him up?"

Tizan halting turned to explain, "I knew Briac would be visiting a lady friend of his before he returned to the Inn.  Oh, I've had her screened and she's no threat.  Anyway, after the business with the barber, I left a jug of fine wine on Briac's bed table, supposedly a gift from the Innkeeper to apologize for the incident in the dining hall.  As greedy and selfish as I know him to be, he's sure to consume the entire jug this very night.  I expect him to presently be passed out cold on his bed."

"Then he'll be getting two surprises tomorrow." Zunrogo smiled coldly.  "Do a complete job on him."

"Yes, sir, I most certainly will."  Tizan bowed and, turning smartly, left the room.

“He's too efficient.”  Zunrogo stared at the door with certain uneasiness.  “How much he reminds me of myself at that age.”

                                                                               ~

“Wake up, lazy bag of bones!  Wake up, I say.  It's nearly dawn."

"Oh, leave me alone, damn it!"  His lids half covered his eyes as he took a cursory look at the window.  "It’s still dark outside."  He buried his face back into the pillow.

"Get up this instant, that's an order!"  The commanding voice made him sit up with a start.  Rubbing his eyes into focus, Briac looked bewilderedly from one guard to the other until he saw the captain seated by the fireplace.  Instantly, he sprang out of bed to stand at attention, naked as the day he was born, “Yes sir… sorry, sir."

“At ease. " Captain Zunrogo grunted.

The speed of his movement meanwhile had made Briac’s head, ache, and Briac moved his hand up to rub his aching skull.  "What the…Aiyyegg!" Overnight he had mysteriously lost all his hair, gone completely bald.

“So, it wasn't a bad dream after all.”  His bewildered eyes caught the venomous grin on Tizan's sinister face and noted a certain satisfaction in the depths of his pupils.

 "Are you responsible for this outrage?"  Fists clenched, he turned furiously to Tizan.

"And how do you like your new look?" Tizan stared down at him belligerently.  Throwing his head back, Tizan laughed until a stern look from the captain abruptly silenced him.

With anger and incomprehension in his eyes, Briac looked at Frastos but Frastos stood at attention with his head lowered, attempting with all his might to stifle a laugh.

“You, spineless cur,” Briac inwardly cursed, disgusted by his friend's cowardice.  Turning to Zunrogo, with a pained look in his eyes, his voice anxiously protested, "Sir, what Tizan has done…this is an unmitigated outrage."

The captain did not answer; in his solid, unwavering, stone eyes, there was no emotion at all; he was indifferent, if not completely cold, to Briac's suffering.

03-- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 26

“How could Captain Zunrogo Tugo have sanctioned this?  How could he have condoned it?  Wasn't it only last night that he had admonished Tizan and warned him to behave?  What could have gone wrong since then?”  Briac blanched.

 “No, that's inconceivable.”  Despite his fierce denial, his heart pounded through his chest as he was seized with inexplicable fear and his head ached even more.

"What are you waiting for?"  Tizan's sharp bark brought him back with a start.

"Put these on at once.  The captain wants to see how you look in them."  Tizan forcefully thrust a bundle into his hands.

Briac venomously glared at Tizan and inwardly cursed. “Despicable beast…This is all your doing; how long did it take you to construct this vile revenge and to beget this humiliation. You deserve to be torn apart, limb from limb, by the wild dogs.”

"But these are not my clothes." Briac outwardly, however, had protested, looking past Tizan to address the captain. 

"Are you dense?  Put them on at once!" Tizan bellowed, so close that his breath, heavy with loathing, beat on Briac's face furiously.

His heart pounded wildly with intense fear, making Briac's hands tremble as he begrudgingly donned the garments and stood before the captain.

"Oh; and put this on too."  Tizan robustly thrust, the scalp with long locks of blond hair, the same shade and color as Fradel Rurik Korvald's, into Briac's hand.  "It’s sure to improve your looks.  No need to thank me for it." He grinned maliciously.

Briac, knitting his brows, looked at the scalp and hair (pelt) with incomprehension.  Then, as understanding dawned onto him his eyes widened with horror and, with a visible shudder, he looked up questioningly at Tizan. “Just what kind of monster are you?”

"Come over here." the captain's stern voice commanded him into a seat.  His cold stare inspected Briac's disguise for the first time as the guard obediently sat down.

"You have been assigned to this most important task," Zunrogo explained with cool indifference. " Yes, you’ve’ been honored with this job, taking in due consideration, of your past extenuating service, your courage in line of duty and, once loyalty to me.”

“Past…. once loyalty…” Briac swallowed dryly, his stomach knotting itself tighter and tighter.

“But Sir,”

"You wish to object?"  The captain's glacial tone froze the blood in the guard's veins.

“Do they know?  Do they suspect that I’m...?  Is this to be only the most lenient part of my punishment?  How could that be, I've been so careful? How could they’ve have found out?” The outcome was too frightful for Briac to even imagine.

“No, that isn't it.”  Briac bit his lip and clenched his fists to control the trembling in his            hands.

 “It can’t be… I’m still safe.  Didn't the Captain just say that I'm being honored?”

 He swallowed fearfully and bowed his head abjectly, dropping his eyes to the ground.

 "No sir." Briac feebly assented.

"Then it's settled." Zunrogo glared.  "From now on you are forbidden to remove this disguise.  Those are your new orders."

"Very well, sir." Briac swallowed dryly and, as the captain got up to leave, he looked up to meet Tizan's eyes.

"What are you afraid of?" Tizan goaded Briac.  "Perhaps you're afraid to die?  You…"

The captain stopped mid-stride and half-turned to stare sharply back at Tizan, silencing him instantly with his look.  Tizan took a step back, cowed.

No sooner was Zunrogo gone than Tizan, a cruel half-smile on his lips, jovially clapped Briac on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, Briac, you'll be well protected.  Frastos and I will see to that.  Won't we, Frastos?"

04- FRASTOS - JP 07

Briac disdainfully jerked away from Tizan's hand and turned his back to him to turn his imploring eyes on Frastos.  "Why me?" the groan escaped his trembling lips.

Frastos avoided Briac's eyes.  Lowering his head, he mumbled softly. "It makes sense.”

But then inwardly, he added, “Better you than me.”

 

(END OF SECTION 20)                                                                                          ~

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL- SECTION 9

After two- and one-half days of riding, the stony, dirt path converged with the old main road that had long ago been supplanted by another, wider and more level one.

This other thoroughfare (artery) cut straight through the bustling towns and thriving villages that had seemingly sprung up almost overnight beside it.

 Striving to compensate for lost time, and since the opportunity of a long, uninterrupted stretch up ahead availed itself, Nevetsecnuac spurred his mount into a full gallop and they rode like the wind all day long, the mare's hooves barely skimming the surface of the road.  Only when dusk fell did they stop for rest and nourishment.  Leaving the road at a suitable spot, Nevetsecnuac was about to dismount when his keen eyes suddenly spotted a thin trail of coiling smoke to the west, beyond a nearby hill.

01- NEVETSECNUAC

“Could it be Zonar?  No.”  Nevetsecnuac shook his head, grimacing wryly.  That's hardly his style.

“Perhaps it’s bandits…  Well, there's only one way to find out.”  He nodded, having already decided to reconnoiter and find its source.  After tethering his mount to the largest tree in a secure spot that offered lush, green grass for grazing, Nevetsecnuac swiftly crested the hill and, advancing stealthily, made a beeline for the activity.

He ducked just in time, spotting two armed sentinels off to the side, beyond the second rise.  Deciding to investigate them first, he changed course and, hugging the ground, crept swiftly but quietly towards them.

When he was still some distance away, however, the ground beneath his feet suddenly gave way and he plunged into a deep, dark hole.  Despite the howling winds, the more alert sentinel at once stood up erect, throwing aside the dried meat he was disdainfully chewing.  With his right hand poised at his sword's hilt he turned and looked intently, directly at where Nevetsecnuac had been trapped.

"What is it, Deizvor?" Nevetsecnuac heard a winded voice demanding as he hastened after the other who was fast approaching where Nevetsecnuac was.

"I thought I heard some noise coming from this direction, Jonnath," Deizvor answered brashly.

Nevetsecnuac had not let out even a whimper in his surprise fall.  Lying on his back, slightly winded, listening to the warnings from his sixth sense, he remained perfectly still and considered his options.  The approaching footsteps were now sounding dangerously close.

"You must be out of your mind.  How can you hear anything in this wind?  Come on, be reasonable."  Jonnath, grasping the other's arm, held him back only a few paces from the edge of the hole.

"We should get back quick." he then warned.  "We've left the post unguarded.  We'll be in a terrible fix if our absence is noted."

"I did hear something suspicious, like someone falling in, almost like a cave-in." Deizvor responded indignantly, angered by the other's skepticism.

02 THE SENTRY - JONATH AND DEIZVOR

 "Anyhow, no one asked you to tag along.  Go back if you're so worried about your hide; as if he's going to show up now; if at all!"  Deizvor barked, "I said get back!  I'll be there summarily, after I first make a cursory inspection of this area."

"Why are you always so brash, so quick to fly off the handle?  I'm just as bored as you, but you can't invent trouble where there is none.  What you heard was, in all probability, some scared scavenging mammal or a rodent fleeing to safety."  Jonnath stood his ground.

 "Besides, must I warn you of the prevalent dangers?  Do you wish to fall into one of the pitfalls that abound here?  It’s precarious enough to scour this ground in daylight, let alone at night.  Our duty lies strictly in watching the road and guarding Cyprecox Pass, nothing else."  Seeing this failed to persuade Deizvor, he turned his back to him in exasperation, "Go ahead then!  Have it your way."  Jonnath’s voice trailed into the distance.

"I have this strong hunch." Deizvor stamped his foot, vacillating.

"I know I'm on the verge of something.  I sense it with every fiber of my being.  Hmm, oh well.  Jonnath’s probably right.  I am bored out of my skull, but I would have welcomed an encounter with a predatory beast, even a ghost or goblin.  Anything, anything is better than this interminable waiting."  Still grumbling, Deizvor reluctantly withdrew from the edge of the pit and followed Jonnath’s footsteps into the distance.

“They're gone at last! “Sitting bolt upright, Nevetsecnuac brushed aside the slimy worms and maggots that had, all this while, crawled over his face, through his hair and on his chest and legs.

 Straining his eyes to see in the scant light, he glanced around him.  “Is this construction man-made?”  Evidently it was, for the ground on which he sat was tamped hard.  Rocks and pieces of broken pottery protruded from the soil and pieces of rotted beams with sharp edges and spikes littered the ground.  Testifying to the depth of the hole, the air was suffocating, dense and smelled nauseatingly foul.

By rights, his fall should have been more detrimental but, using his martial training, Nevetsecnuac had broken the impact of the fall and had escaped serious injury.  Rising to his feet, he reached out his hands and began to carefully poke and pry the jutting sides.

 Some insects, crawling slimy worms and hairy bugs scuttled away from his probing hands.  Oddly, his hands detected a corroded metal jug that deposited a strangely familiar smell on his fingers, which he, identifying it, immediately wiped it off onto his trouser cuff.

 Then as he continued with his probing, what he had dreaded most came true; for his hand just then rested abruptly on a group of human skulls and bones clustered in the far corner.

“This was clearly not a burial plot, which meant that these unfortunate souls, judging from the way the bones were arrayed and other pertinent clues, were buried alive and left here to suffer a prolonged, lingering death.  What kind of crime had they committed that warranted this cruel punishment?  Had they succumbed to treachery?  Were they loyalists?  Stripped of all clothing and other personal belongings, the mystery surrounding their death and their identification would remain unresolved indefinitely.”  

More intriguing still, was the discovery a bit later, of a solitary skeleton crouched in a small hollow across from the main group.  This one had parts of his legs missing and, upon scrutiny, Nevetsecnuac found that the shin bone had been severed sharply at the ankle and, worse still, that the bones of the hand had been crushed so severely that they crumbled to dust at the merest touch.

Nevetsecnuac's face creased into a frown of intense concentration.  “Why had this one been so brutally mutilated?  Why had he suffered so much worse?  Oh, if only the dead could speak!”

03- NEVETS IN THE DARK PIT

 No sooner had this wistful thought crossed his mind than, suddenly, the corpse's jaw broke off and from inside the cavity a strange, cold object fell squarely into Nevetsecnuac's palm.  A bit spooked, Nevetsecnuac examined it with care.  It felt like a jewel laden miniature key of some sort.

“All right,” Nevetsecnuac nodded, “if it’s within my power, I'll certainly do all I can to vindicate you, sir.”  He placed the key into his inner pocket for safekeeping then, mindful of the limited time he had in which to free himself, returned his attention to more immediate concerns.

                                                                                       ~

 

(END OF SECTION 9)

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 33

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 33

Hecun half believing his ears nevertheless listened on, as Mouro summarized Micen's reasons, his fears of retribution from the not so vulnerable, in fact the dangerously influential Fradel Rurik Korvald, and the entire sinister plot that had been concocted to extricate Micen from any danger and future trouble.

"After you had been poisoned all the corpses, including the prisoner, would have been barbarously mutilated.  In addition to some incriminating evidence planted at the scene, the blame for the massacre would have been indisputably shifted onto Zonar, and the responsibility for it onto Magistrate Rue."

"So, because of Micen's incompetent handling of this case, all of us were to be brutally sacrificed just to tidy up his own mess."  Hecun, understanding the full implications, mused out loud.

"Yes.  That, in a nutshell, would be it exactly."

"Such treachery I can expect from Micen Do," Hecun's face darkened as he burrowed his burning gaze into Mouro, "but you, you?  If you were aware of this diabolical plot from the start, why did you not see fit to warn me about it?"

"Think, brother, could I really do that without exposing myself?  As far as they are concerned, we have been adversaries ever since I took that promotion away from you."

"You're so smart; you could have found a way if you'd wanted to.”

"All right, perhaps I'm deserving of your contempt."  Mouro turned his head away, abashed, and then wryly ejected, "Though I'm ashamed to admit it now, I did, at the time, go along with Micen, selfishly wanting greater gain.  I'm not perfect."

"Greater gain… What, a greater gain!" Hecun exploded. "Greater gain than our friendship?  After all I've done for you?  You bring a new meaning to the word 'loyalty'."  Hecun highly incensed, spat on the ground in disgust.

 "From now on I will consider you as my enemy."

"Not so fast", Mouro protested, blocking the other's way.

"You're always so dramatic!  No, you listen!  Fine, I accept my shortcomings.  I confess that perhaps I'm too ambitious.  I'm guilty as Hell all right and I deserve your contempt, but doesn't it count for something that I didn't go through with it?  I didn't have to expose the plan to you at all, you know."

"True, you didn't, but there still is the fact that you collaborated with Micen against me.  You cold-heartedly plotted to murder me.  Am I supposed to feel better now that you've had a sudden attack of conscience?" Hecun scoffed coldly.

"Fine, I deserved that!  I'm a despicable human being, not as noble as you.  Now that you've gotten all that off of your chest, will you at least listen to me?  Whether you like it or not, if you're to survive this danger, you must work with me and not against me.  It’s imperative that we pool our resources together to deliver you from this perilous predicament.  Though you may now think that it’s asking too much, you must put your trust in me for this, if only but for old times’ sake."

“Trust you?  Trust you?  Imagine, you have the audacity to ask me that?  I'd sooner trust a scorpion.”

 Suppressing his inner feelings then, speaking aloud, Hecun asked wryly, "How do I know this isn't another ruse, another twisted plot?  How can I be ascertained that you're not ensnaring me in yet another facet of Micen's fatal trap, eh?"

"You're wrong, brother, in still suspecting me."

"Don't call me your brother,” Hecun spat on the ground.  "You disgust me."

"Fine, fine…Go ahead and hate me if you must but, for heaven's sake, don't let your emotions have reign over your reasoning."  Mouro was fighting hard to contain his anger.

"Stop for a minute and think.  Why did I let you in on it?  You think I like making things difficult for me?  Believe me when I say, this was the only way I could intercede and come through for you without endangering myself as well.  I haven't got much time to try to convince you of this.  I have to get back before I'm missed, so let some sense penetrate that thick skull of yours.  I made a clean breast of things too...Oh, all right; I'll confess this as well, if only to convince you: my fate, just like yours, is also hanging in balance here.  Yes, I, too, am in as much peril."

"So that's it!  It was because your own hide is at risk.  That's the reason for your change of heart.  I knew there was a good, solid, selfish motive behind all this sudden honesty." Hecun sneered.

Ignoring him, Mouro glanced around suspiciously then continued, "Unfortunately, I became aware of this fact only recently.”

“A few days back, as I was contemplating a means of helping you and, at the same time, considering taking my own guards into my confidence when some relatively insignificant act by Dag Diez arose my suspicion.  Since this nagging doubt persisted, I arranged to have him totally incapacitated by drink and seduced by an innkeeper's voluptuous niece.  After he had passed out, she let me into his room, and I made an avid search of his clothing.  You must understand why this measure was warranted.  For the entire duration of our journey, I had not seen Dag Diez even once disrobe for any reason.  He even insisted on sleeping fully clothed.  Little did I expect to find my own death warrant?  It was there, though, that vile, confounded, confidential letter from Micen, oh, I know his handwriting, ordering him to cooperate fully with the spies in your detachment and, after the completion of the deed, to dispose of my own corpse in the same fashion and add my name to the casualty list as well."

Mouro frowned, biting his lip.  "Now, I ask you, how could you and I, who hand-picked those two hundred men, have been so remiss, so gullible, as to have allowed some of Micen's spies to infiltrate those ranks?  It boggles the mind how we could have been so easily duped.  I admit, it’s partly my own fault for underestimating the resourcefulness of that crafty Micen Do, as well as the extent of his power."  Mouro's voice softened as he began speaking half to himself and began to walk away.

"That's essentially it.  Using my weakness against me, he beguiled me into believing I was his indispensable confidant.  Oh, what a joke!  But then, yes, it’s clear to me now why he wished to be rid of me."  For a moment Mouro reflected, absentmindedly drifting off to further personal, private concerns.  Catching himself in his folly, he abruptly halted, cleared his throat, and turned his gaze back to Hecun.

Smiling wryly, he continued, “Needless to say, from the moment I'd read the letter I was positively incensed, hence even more determined to completely undermine Micen's grand scheme."

Gritting his teeth, he stayed slightly on every word, "And this will be achieved only by our safe delivery of the prisoner Fradel Rurik Korvald to the Capital."  He then nodded with assurance for emphasis, noting Hecun's remaining skepticism. 

"Therein will lay our salvation...  As I mentioned briefly prior to this, Fradel Rurik Korvald has a strong influence among the powerful elite of the Imperial Court.  As soon as his grievance against Micen is aired to them, the repercussions against the Prefect will surely follow.  We, meanwhile, will delay setting out on our return journey and so escape the inevitable rippling effects of his downfall.

03- MOURO AND HECUN

“I must rely, of course, on Fradel's sense of fair play since he does appear to be that sort.  I'm confident he won't persecute those who are only doing their jobs.  Who can fault us for merely following orders, especially if tomorrow, after the opposition is wiped out, we make certain amends to him at obvious risk to ourselves."  Recalling his own ill-treatment of the prisoner in the courtroom, Mouro hung his head in silence but quickly shrugged his shoulders and brushed it aside.

“At least you were not as cruel with Fradel Rurik Korvald as you were with that hapless Canute Yonn,” Hecun pondered the same concerns.

Surmising the Bailiff's thoughts, Mouro grimaced coldly.  "For now, you must guard the prisoner well and let no harm befall him.  When I show up tomorrow with Kade Luir, for I mean to dispose of that cur Dag Diez well before then, you and I will express concern and release Fradel from the cage.  I'm sure he won't raise a serious objection to being put back inside once we're in the vicinity of Magistrate Rue's offices.”

“Oh, unfortunately, my hasty departure tonight made me entirely forget to bring the key.  But then, it would have been rather pointless anyhow, even if I had remembered."  He spread his hands animatedly, sneering, "You couldn't just spring him out now, could you?  He'll be far safer tonight staying just where he is."

“And besides, you wouldn't want me to take all the credit in Fradel's eyes, would you?” Hecun narrowed his eyes.

"Now remember, after I've taken off in a huff tonight, you must let yourself be cajoled into a calmer state, then condescend to drinking the wine that I had brought along.  Well before this, however, you must select two competent and trustworthy men and take them into your confidence, for you cannot do this alone.  Let them know that you suspect renegades have infiltrated their ranks in order to prevent the successful conclusion of this mission.  With their support you can then make your move.  In isolated, controlled groups share the wine with each of the men.  Those guards who abstain from drinking it, as they believe that it’s lethal, must be put to the sword at once.  Do not, I repeat, do not, hesitate or even consider taking them prisoners because it will only lead to further complications down the road.  The odds are stacked against us as it is; why should we needlessly compound the risks with traitors as prisoners?  Oh, and here, before I forget."  Mouro drew out a folded paper from an inner pocket.  "The directions in here will lead you to that well.  I regret that I have no time now to show it to you."

"Are you certain Kade Luir is to be trusted?  How can you be so certain that he's not in league with Dag Diez?"

04-KADE LUIR

"Him...?  Yes.  Kade Luir and I are, or rather had been once, rather intimate, sort of…”  Mouro smiled sheepishly, knowing Hecun's intolerance of his illicit relationships with men.

"You may not condone it," he could not resist rubbing it in, "but its commonplace in the army. This sort of friendship, the comradery (comradeship), fosters true loyalty, especially when your life is repeatedly put at risk; moreover, you can see how useful it proved at this instance.  Yes, I do trust Kade Luir completely; at best he will assist us, at worst, he won't give us any trouble.  Come to think of it, since he's quite adept with a sword, I will do my utmost to enlist his assistance should things go awry, and I'm forced into dire armed (conflict) confrontation with that brute Dag Diez.  You see, Dag Diez is guarded against me but not against Kade Luir.  He looks down on and despises him, considers him a weakling because of his suspected assignations a long time ago with me."  Mouro ignored the judgmental reproach in Hecun's (eyes) look.

"Hence, I can use this effectively against Dag Diez to beget (effect) his demise.  Now, let us both get back before we arouse suspicion.  You know what to do.  Play your part well."

After these directions Mouro strode boldly out of the ruined tower with Hecun close at his heels.  Suddenly, he halted in mid stride, causing Hecun to crash into his back.  Turning to face the Head Bailiff, Mouro said gravely, "Oh, there is one more thing I'd unfortunately neglected to mention."

Cautiously glancing about, he moved his head closer to Hecun's and whispered, "Fradel Rurik Korvald's identity papers that you were furnished with are false.  When my suspicions were aroused, I unsealed an envelope I had been entrusted with containing what I was told were his true papers.  Examining them with great care they, too, proved to be clever forgeries. “

“Hmm… Let us hope that, when I bring the key tomorrow, we find the originals in there with him.  Otherwise, we'll be in a terrible fix, won't we?  I don't know what we'll do then.  Now, let's play out this charade to its conclusion."  He dashed forward, along with Hecun, to be swallowed up by the oppressive darkness.

Feigning great anger when he came within sight of the guards, Mouro marched right through them with curses on his lips, violently kicking away the red-hot embers of the campfire in his path.  He boldly strode past the sentry, still fuming, and, snatching the horse's reins away, led the mare across the bridge.

Hecun, behind him, was left to play out the next, very crucial, scene.

                                                                                     ~

 

(END OF SECTION 33)