THE RESCUE - SECTION 9

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

 THE RESCUE - SECTION 9 

(CONCLUSION OF THE RESCUE)

Silently, Teuquob sat in the place Stark had indicated to catch her breath. Before her, like a magnificent painting, stretched out as far as the eye could see, the vast expanse of undulating peaks, the tallest of which had their crowns haloed with white, floating clouds. Serpentine rivers etched their paths down into deep valleys, disappearing at times under the veil of mist that shrouded them in deep mystery.  Flocks of birds flying in their designated direction decorated the azure sky.

“How peaceful it is here.”  Teuquob, despite herself, heaved a deep sigh.

Stark gazed at her for a moment without replying, “Everything will be all right,” in the end he said, reassuringly.

But in an unexpected turn this brought renewed grief to Teuquob. Unable to contain her emotions, the furrows on her forehead deepened and she burst into tears. Alarmed, Stark moved at once to comfort her, offering his handkerchief. “Females cry so easily;” With a melancholy smile he said, “surely it can’t be as bad as all that?”

“I’m sorry.”  She dried her eyes. “Here, with you, I shouldn’t cry.”  She forced a faint smile to her lips then dropped her head and murmured, “I wish nothing more than to unburden myself to you; but how can I be sure after you hear the facts, you won’t hate me.”

“Whatever do you mean, my dear? Oh, child say what you will, I promise I will not hate you, not ever.”  Teuquob was touched by Stark’s soft gaze and empathetic words, giving her the courage to long at last voice what was oppressing (harrying) her heart.

“Oh, sir, I can no longer endure with such uncertainty and such falsehood.”  She had too much respect for Stark to allow this deception to continue any longer and she looked up, resolved now to confess, to tell him everything. “You have been kinder to me than my own kin. Fearful, though, as I am of losing your affection and respect, still I must dare profess that I am not what I earlier claimed to be. In truth, I am but an unworthy, disobedient daughter of His Highness Murong Di of Kontu. Only, born under an unlucky star, I have never basked in the warm, protective grace of His Majesty. Subjected to scorn, I was forced to endure habitual, contemptuous, and disdainful….”  Her voice had shaken with emotion before dropping off, as tears once more glistened in her eyes; for anew, she was torn by conflicting feelings (sentiments).

Repressing the urge to intervene, Stark sat motionless and gazed at Teuquob in thoughtful silence.

After a time, her composure regained, she then professed to Stark the summary of how she was raised (educated); but temporarily withheld (omitted) the circumstance of her birth, as it was too painful for her to recollect (call to mind). “On my fifteenth birthday, when His Majesty decreed that I’d be wed to Lord Hedenko...”

“Not the Overlord Deng Hedenko?” Stark interrupted Tequob in surprise.

“You know of him, sir?”

“I most certainly do.”  How could your father, how could His Majesty, in all good conscience condemn you to such an odious fate? Stark wanted to inquire, but restrained himself, instead giving her a brief explanation of how, when he visited Kontu in his teens, he had come to learn of the Overlord’s exploits from his esteemed teacher and host. The surname of which, when disclosed, resolved an earlier dilemma for Teuquob. Clearly fate had played a big part in bringing Stark and her to this present circumstance. With this notion, hope sprung anew in her heart.

“Perhaps, then, you do understand my plight,” she smiled, reassured, “for long since my heart has been ill at ease as to how I may best explain this to you. But sir, my own life is of little consequence to me, and this was not the reason for my flight. My action was (determined) born out of necessity, a daughter’s duty to her mother’s soul.”  Then, by degrees, Teuquob unfolded the entire truth: the story of her mother’s life, beginning with her mother Princess Lueling’s tragic tale, as it was told to her by her nanny Shutizan; next, she divulged  Hedenko’s notorious, more recent exploits, and the actual reason for her escape.

“You were quite correct in acquiescing with the wishes of your respected nurse.” Stark nodded in approval when Teuquob had reached that point of her story (narrative). “Shutizan is to be commended for her loyalty, farsightedness and clear thinking.”  Stark was also fatalistic in his philosophy of life and believed that much of everything was pre-ordained at one’s birth. Hence, he stressed further that all Teuquob had done was to follow her destiny.

His understanding words dispelled at once the gloomy, oppressive clouds that had so long stifled her soul, and instead, ushered in the fresh spring rain. Tears of gratitude now flowed ceaselessly from her eyes. Stark, his heart pained by compassion, embraced Teuquob as a father would a daughter, offering her solace. As she burrowed her face into his vest her tears rolled like pearls down the front of the garment.

 How difficult it is to console young girls, Stark reflected in exasperation. They are so frail, so emotional. I feel so inadequate at dealing with this. My wife was always better at this than I. His forehead creased, he shut his eyes tight, as the hapless girl’s grief reached the very depths of his soul. Despite his natural reserve, he found himself stroking her hair soothingly.

Darkness had begun to encroach on them as the sun followed its usual path to the western horizon. This provided Stark the opportunity of break and he said, as delicately as he could, “Please try to constrain yourself; besides, we really should be getting back before the sun sets.”

Teuquob, a sensible girl, responded immediately and pulled her head away. Drying her eyes she bashfully asked his forgiveness for her imposition on him in such an informal manner.

“Please, do not be concerned,” he smiled compassionately, “that was no imposition. We are all allowed our moments of frailty now and then. I am only glad that I could afford you some measure of solace.” With the outstretched hand, he then helped her to her feet and together they began their descent of the slope.

As they neared home, Stark suddenly halting, voiced his opinion, “It’s too late in the season now, but perhaps at the start of spring we could undertake the journey to Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple.”

This precipitated fresh tears of gratitude in her eyes. How kind, how sparing Stark was, to be considering such a move in anticipation of her wishes!

“What is this?  Still more tears? My dear child, please stop crying or you will make yourself ill.”

“It’s all my fault, I should have waited,” he ruefully muttered in self-reproach, turning his head away.

“Oh no,” she rushed to counter, “I’m most grateful to you, sir.”  Then, in a most unexpected move, she fell on her knees in front of him and proceeded to thank him most humbly for his kindness and consideration. She had long wished to ask him about the existence and location of just such a place but, feeling that he had done so much for her already, had refrained from doing so.

Overcoming his own surprise, Stark hastily raised her to her feet and stressed that he had long nurtured the idea of visiting “Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple” himself to offer prayers and burn incense to his late Sovereign and ancestors. 

“Your gratitude is unwarranted, my dear since I would have done this anyway for my own sake.  My objective, it seems, fell into accord with yours out of pure coincidence.” 

After a moment’s pause, he sadly added, “I, too, am guilty of neglect,” and his heart over again, flooded with grief.

 Of course, inwardly she had rightly guessed the true reason for his so-called procrastination; it had to do with protecting Svein. She could note that even now after having committed himself to helping her, inwardly he was torn with disquieting reticence, reluctant as he was to chance their security, by his leaving their well-guarded secret retreat and immersing (personally, physically) with the outside world.

Inwardly in fact, his reasoning was waging war with his sensibilities: Could it be that he had become unduly overly cautious. Surely, after all this time, almost nineteen years, there could be no real danger of spies or henchmen still in pursuit. Even he, the ardent nemesis, in absence of proof, would not be that persistent!

His mood lightened, his voice filled with the renewed vitality of youth, he firmly proclaimed, “Most definitely we will undertake this journey come spring!”  But the words were no sooner out of his mouth, when his face clouded over with concern, “I may have been rush in raising your hopes however, for you may not be up to such an arduous journey.”

“I beg to differ with you, sir. I am strong in physique and even stronger in will.  No journey, however odious, shall deter me from my aim.”

Despite his disagreement, Stark kindly refrained from airing his sound judgment and the projected difficulties they, not just her, needed to master. “All right, we will see what we can do to make the transition and the trek more plausible.  I’m sure that between the two of us we could afford you the necessary measure of security and means of comfort.  However, I feel I must warn you, well in advance, that the proposed journey will be most perilous and taxing an undertaking.”

“Yes sir, I stand warned.” She, suppressing her hopeful exuberance, responded in a mocked, serious tone. Then, with her heart bursting with joy, she quickened her pace to match Stark’s speed.

The vegetation skirting this meandering path was already being draped by the twilight mists. Meanwhile, back at the cabin, Svein was growing increasingly apprehensive over their late return.

Something unforeseen must have happened to offset Stark’s stance of punctuality!

Unable to concentrate hence, he had long since abandoned his studies and restlessly paced (to and from,) the length and breadth of the room, all the while deliberating whether to stay and wait, or simply risk provoking Stark’s scorn by going out in search of them. His rich imagination now an antagonist, most terrible sequential scenes, each more frightening than the next, began to (serially manifest,) unfold in his mind’s eye. In the semi-darkness of the room (with only the fireplace lit), heads bearing the razor-sharp fangs of known predators lunged at him out of the shadows, and then disappeared.

 Oh, I do hope they are all right.  He moaned irritably when the lone wolf’s howl from a distance pierced the still air of the room. He impatiently stamped his foot and turned to face the door. He was about to head out (the door) regardless of consequence, when to his great relief, he heard their approaching footsteps. Exhaling, he quickly rushed over to sit at his desk and pretended to be reading, feigning distraction, when they just then entered the room.

“Such diligence,” came Stark’s bemused remark. “My dear boy, you must have acquired extraordinary night vision, to be able to study so well in the dimly lit room.”

Teuquob hurried to light the lamp at the same time as Svein, sheepishly, also hastened to correct his error. Silently their hands collided, and both jerked it back, blushing.

That night, after Teuquob had retired and Svein had concluded his studies, when both men were relaxing by the fire before going to bed, Stark recounted the afternoon’s events to Svein.  In telling her story (but leaving out the fact she is of royal blood), Stark made specific reference to Lord Hedenko, the man to whom she had been betrothed.

“Since there is political significance in how Deng Hedenko rose to power, I will hence, take pains to extrapolate in detail everything I know of this Lord.”

“When I was residing as a guest at my teacher’s home in Kontu, I heard allusions being made daily to this notorious Lord, but it was not until my tutor filled me in on the details that I fully comprehended the extent of the fear his name generated.

As a young man in his teens, sixteen years old to be exact, Deng Hedenko already towered over seven feet in height. With his massive build, prominent nose, large predatory eyes, and bushy auburn hair of fiery red to match his temper, he already resembled more a demon than a mortal man. Yet, only once from afar I bore witness to his imposing bearing as he rode his black stallion at the fore of his equally impressive military entourage through the main gates on his way to seek audience with King Murong Di.”

Stark thoughtfully leaned back in his chair and took in a few more puffs from his pipe before continuing, “Overlord Deng Hedenko, as he was more appropriately referred to then, was born second in line to an immensely powerful and well-established family in the fifth year of Murong Di’s reign. Deng’s cruelty showed first when he was barely seven years of age. Even at that early age he was contending for power and aspired to his elder brother’s title. He dared his brother to a swimming match in the icy river. It was a very frigid day in mid-winter and the temperature had already dipped below freezing. When the elder boy succumbed to the cold and stood on the brink of death, Deng cruelly let him expire, and only then made a feeble pretense of affecting a rescue. Hedenko himself was known for boasting of this, which is why it had reached my teacher’s ears.

“With one obstacle eliminated, there remained a more difficult one for Deng to overcome. Fortunately for Hedenko, however, his father Lord Dazong Hedenko had wizened too late to his son’s insatiable thirst for power. With due consequence, the old Lord’s attempts to subdue Deng and bring him under the control of his authority resulted in failure. By withstanding the cruel measures and punishments inflicted on him under the guise of discipline, Deng was able to increase his will power and stamina by degrees until even the father had cause to fear his own son. Deng Hedenko’s popularity, cultivated with other members of the family and influential friends, and his growing skill in military strategy and martial combat was met by the father with due apprehension.

“Fearing his own early demise, the old Lord Dazong Hedenko now contemplated conferring the hereditary title to his third son, overstepping Deng’s right of succession. But, before this could be affected (achieved), the younger brother succumbed to a fatal accident. Worse, the father could find no proof to substantiate his suspicion of Deng. Feeling his life was now in mortal danger, the old Lord Dazong Hedenko named his own younger brother Teron Hedenko as heir apparent and conspired with him to attain (beget) Deng’s demise; but the old Lord’s favorite wife, (for polygamy was an accepted norm there), who had special affections (fondness) for Deng Hedenko, betrayed her husband and warned Deng of the impending danger.”

“Sprung from the trap, Deng fled to the capital, and to safety. His first act was to seek an audience with Prime Minister Kwonsu Non, who bore Lord Dazong Hedenko an old grudge. Via circumspect bribery, Deng managed to ingratiate himself with the Prime Minister. Then, through P. M’s patronage, he was favorably presented at court to His Majesty Murong Di.  Deng’s striking bearing and his outstanding ability quickly won him the favor of the court. Despite his youthful age of seventeen, he was appointed as the commander of an Imperial force of battalion and, promptly dispatched to settle the border skirmish at Sikumu.   With deadly precision, in no time at all he annihilated the overwhelming forces of the enemy, recovered the lost territory, and returned victorious to the capital.

 For this stroke of military genius, he was awarded the rank of General. In addition, he was presented with a fine, black steed from the Imperial stables and, as a special mark of favor from His Majesty, a luxurious court garment.

“In subsequent years, Deng Hedenko, gaining command of larger and larger armies, won countless unparalleled victories. He was strict with his officers and fighting men and, quite unbending in his insistence on rigorous discipline as well as, absolute adherence to military rules and regulations. However, he was also fair in his treatment of good men and most generous in his rewards to those that deserved his recognition. With his fair distribution of the wealth won during his conquests, he won the unquestioning loyalty of his men. His words became law throughout the whole army and overrode the instructions from the Minister of War and the Prime Minister. There was an unspoken, unwritten conviction (belief, opinion) that the army’s loyalty to Deng Hedenko even superseded an allegiance to Sovereign Murong Di.

“As General Deng Hedenko’s fame spread everywhere, his father’s earnest warnings to His Majesty about Deng’s ambitious and treasonous nature (fell on deaf ears) were never heard.

“Most faithful, stanch subject, Lord Dazong Hedenko’s subsequent entreaties, for the king to curtail Deng’s power before it was too late or, more aptly, put Deng to death, were also effectively intercepted by the Prime Minister and his powerful clique at court.”

“In the end the old Lord personally undertook the long and arduous journey to the Capital and put the matter before the king.  Through persistence, and the help of the few faithful friends he had remaining, Lord Dazong Hedenko eventually succeeded in gaining a private audience, and presented his admonitions with great zeal. But, far from being commended for his loyalty, he was rebuked by the Sovereign for harboring unwarranted suspicions and for promoting baseless slanders against his own son.  The old Lord left the capital a broken man.

“Growing in influence and power, Deng eventually reached the limits of insolence when he dared to openly insult the Crown Prince. But, since Deng was the most valued Field Marshal of the Imperial forces, and his talents most sorely needed at that time, the Monarch overlooked this sleight, as well as his other numerous crimes.

“Through Deng’s victories, King Murong Di had gained those territories he had always craved, and, in a noticeably short time, all the borders of Kontu were, for the first time ever, secured.  With the antagonistic kingdoms that had previously posed a serious threat to his realm all, without exception, vanquished and their strongholds burnt to the ground, Kontu’s Sovereign Murong Di’s absolute dominion (and lasting reign) was affirmed.

“In time however, with no more wars to wage, conflicting principles and varied internal politics, despite cloaked ambitions, nevertheless, ignited serious disagreements between liege and vassal. As the dissention between the two worsened (intensified), the king now began to distrust Deng’s increasing political power and to question his professed loyalty. Moreover, Murong Di, now regretful of his past oversight, perfunctorily dismissed the Prime Minister’s ordinarily compelling lexis and opinions and heeded instead Deng’s enemies and Lord Dazong Hedenko’s forewarnings.

“Understanding that, with the nation at peace, the Field Marshall was therefore expendable, Deng sought a way out of this decidedly perilous predicament (situation).

 As the saying goes, ‘When the game is caught, the good bow is put away.’”

 “Moving swiftly, before the likely rival faction mustered (mobilized) an offensive against him; Deng Hedenko resigned his commission and asked leave from His Majesty to return to his home state. 

“The Sovereign could not afford to appear openly ungrateful to this national hero, and so, Deng’s request was promptly granted. Secretly, Murong Di had hoped that the old Lord would do the deed (finish the job) for him and dispose of Deng once and for all.

“Lord Dazong Hedenko’s ardent foe, Prime Minister Kwonsu Non meanwhile, harboring his own sinister designs, keenly supported the monarch’s decision, whilst, adroitly silencing those who planned to enunciate a warning against letting such a rapacious fiend loose in the countryside.

True to form, just as Prime Minister had anticipated, shortly after Deng’s arrival at the estate of Quinan, the old Lord Dazong Hedenko was swiftly, ruthlessly killed (cut down) and the blame put onto unknown assassins. Subsequently, two culprits were captured and, under torture supervised by Deng himself, confessed to the crime. Both were promptly, brutally (horribly) executed immediately after the trial. The case, thus quickly settled, gave the Chief Justice (of the High Court) no opportunity to call an investigation.

The first part of reprisals (retaliation, revenge) now over, Deng moved against, his once beloved uncle, Teron Hedenko.

As it were, the very moment the news of Deng’s impending return to Quinan had reached his uncle, out of fear and, to allay Deng’s suspicions, (or ire,) Teron had officially (formally) relinquished his claim to the succession and furthermore, staged a falling-out with his elder brother Dazong Hedenko. Underestimating Deng’s vindictive and brutal nature, upon Deng’s arrival, Teron then, reminiscing about past joyful family events and his lone, doting treatment of Deng- proceeded to curry as much favor as possible with his nephew.

Despite the assassination of Lord Dazong, Deng’s sustained amicable, respectful conduct towards his uncle, seduced (lulled) Teron into a false sense of security and he, albeit erroneously, further lowered his shields (safeguards).”

“Teron was elated when after the required period of bereavement, Deng, concealing his contempt, courteously invited his uncle to a lavish reconciliation banquet.

“Deng wined and dined his uncle with a cold smile on his lips throughout the ceaseless servings of alcoholic-beverages, rare exotic fruits, steamed edible plants, huge portions of venison and scrumptious (delectable) variety of outlandish victuals.

“The after-dinner nerve-racking, bellicose martial entertainment, however, was ensued by unexpected, dire revelations from Deng’s paid witnesses, who brought forth false proof and a trumped-up charge of treason against Teron Hedenko.  The Uncle had not even digested his food before he was brutally hauled in chains to a damp dungeon, tortured, then summarily executed for his crime.  Once more, the case was so clean-cut that the High court was rendered powerless to indict Deng; as the witnesses themselves, had disappeared with as much rapidity as the accused.

“Quinan, which encompasses a remote, mountainous region was the farthest state from Capital. Burdened with prevalent, severe weather and harsh topography, the hardened citizens, herders, woodsmen or hunters, had always been difficult to rule. On the plus side, the region landed itself to producing the finest warriors in the land.

After the consolidation of his power in Quinan, Deng engineered some border troubles on his land and, using this reason, proceeded to create a new, invincible army in his state.

“When this new development became known in the Capital, the king sent a secret envoy into Quinan to keep surveillance (watch) on Deng and return with his findings. Expecting such a move, Deng hid most of his force in the mountains and provided numerous false reports for the envoy. Favorably impressed, the envoy returned to court and cleared Deng of all charges.”

 “With time, Deng grew ever more savage in nature and many of his enemies equated him to the fierce carnivores that plagued his mountainous state.

This predatory Lord had remained fond of wars and bloodshed all his life.

“It was said that, when he could not conduct a war, he would butcher men just for the sheer pleasure of it. He, true to his innate nature, remained just as fanatical about regulations as when he had commanded the Imperial army.

He enforced his unvarying, harsh edicts, with equivalent rigidity, regardless of stature or age- on the military, close kin and, on the entire civilian population.”

“All this while, many of the ablest soldiers who had served under Deng had, intermittently defected from Imperial force and re-enlisted in Quinan. With such an impressive force under his command, Deng Hedenko next embarked on a campaign of bloodshed to make Quinan the biggest and strongest state within Kontu.

“The first set of wars was waged on the neighboring kingdoms, Kwan and Ezaks, extending Deng’s holdings further to the north and north-west. After his power in these border regions was consolidated, Deng then looked to the neighboring states in Kontu, which stood between him and the Capital.

His ruthless exploits by then were so well known that just by seeing his invincible army poised at the gate, was sufficient cause to frighten these lords to capitulate (surrender) or, to strive for an alliance with the Overlord.

 “In this way, by degrees, Deng Hedenko succeeded in usurping good portion of the country from right under the very nose of Murong Di. In fact, by the time he was thirty-one, Overlord Deng had directly controlled over one-third of the Kingdom of Kontu and had secretly annexed another quarter.

 “This dominance was attained, via effective manipulation of many of the influential ministers at the Imperial court who had the King’s ear; and, by maintaining rigidly enforced control over engorged state of Quinan; which was ruled by the harshest administrative governing body, under sole authority (command, rule) of Overlord Deng Hedenko.”

 

“While all these factors were adding up, Sovereign Murong Di’s attention was instead, directed to the more urgent threat (pressing matter) from Ircon, on the eastern border region, one of the first states formerly subdued by Hedenko, which at present had again risen in power to war against Kontu.

“Hedenko had earlier warned Murong Di of the strength of the conquered country and had counseled the annihilation of the entire Royal Family.  The king, however, had coveted the Third Princess of Ircon, and later made her his fifth wife, leaving the Royal Family in power and registering Ircon as an independent tributary state.

“Too late, His Majesty Murong Di regretted his ignoring Hedenko’s warning of just this possibility. He would have been surely lost had he not still had the backing of Imperial army and some powerful and staunch loyal ministers in Court.

Compounding this mistake with another one still later however, he, gave the danger from Ircon a far greater precedence over looming (imminent) one from Quinan, and refused to recall Hedenko to court to give account for his, by now well-documented, treasonous activities. This slight chance, sole window of opportunity closed, by the time the injudicious monarch wizened to be concerned over Deng’s invincible power, the internal strife, and corruption at court had permanently eroded his ability to effectively deal with Deng.

“No doubt, numerous assassins were covertly dispatched to Quinan, but their attempts were all rendered ineffectual in that tightly controlled military state.

“Deng Hedenko, for the three years prior to Teuquob’s escape, had permanently absented himself from court. His emissaries still assured the muddle-headed king of his loyalty to the throne and provided sound reasons for Deng’s accumulation of arsenals. Nevertheless, with Deng Hedenko a permanent thorn in his flesh, it appears Murong Di had finally resorted to his last recourse, that of allying himself with Overlord Hedenko. Informed covertly of licentious Hedenko’s not so secret desire to be wed to the most beautiful girl in the entire kingdom, The Sovereign had issued an edict, along with the invitation, to appease Lord Deng Hedenko.  Although, I suspect, this was but a ruse (ploy) to lure Hedenko to the capital and there to arrest him and execute him for treason.  Teuquob was the bait to lure this fierce Overlord into the snare.”

“Judging from Overlord Deng’s abilities, however, he would have accepted this proposal only to have sprung some sort of trap of his own, allowing him to usurp the throne.”

Stark finally concluded his narrative with this most plausible prediction. Much of what he had said about the situation (state of affairs) in Kontu reminded both about the current history of their own country, and both Stark and Svein lapsed into silence, their thoughts converging on one unspoken name: Zakhertan Yozdek.

                                                                            ~

Winter soon showed its bitter face, with unending storms and bone-chilling cold temperatures. Added to this was the danger from ferocious predators, those that did not hibernate, now contended for the scarce food still left on the mountain. So, all unnecessary activities, like Stark and Teuquob’s excursions into the woods, were postponed, while the daily martial exercises continued as before in the clearing.

On this night, like so many other frigid winter nights, nestled in the warm comfort of their living room, Svein poured over his books, while Teuquob engaged herself with needlework and Stark, seated in his chair, quietly read a favorite passage from a book.  Only the howl of the winds outside, in harmony with the roar of the wild beasts, intruded thoughtlessly on the silence of the room. When Stark distractedly looked up from his book Teuquob, misconstruing his pondering (considering carefully) as break in concentration, impetuously voiced her request, “May I trouble you, sir, with, perhaps, my unreasonable hope?”  Stark nodded his assent.

 “Sir, I would be most honored if you would consent to impart to me the (teachings) requisite mastery of the “Literate” calligraphy, so that I may be able to decipher the ancient scrolls and benefit from the antiquated poetry and prose that are in your keeping. Since it is my wish to remain in your honorable country indefinitely, may I, therefore, trouble you with this supplication?”

What purpose would it serve other than to confuse your mind? Stark reflected before finally giving his reticent response.

 “Since only certain times are allocated to education, are you certain you can spare the time from your present linguistic studies? The future would be a more apt time (perhaps) for such additional explorations.”

“I can achieve both. In this way also, curious as I am of the beautiful, exceptional works, I shall not repeatedly trouble you for the translations.” she pressed in her eagerness.

“Perhaps it can be done.” Stark teased “But first, we must ask Svein if he would not object to you sharing additional paper, ink and writing utensils.”

Svein, delighted at this opportunity of spending more time with her, raised his head from his books and meeting his uncle’s eyes, nodded to him in the affirmative.

Of course, you would, foolish boy. Stark looked away to ponder on the concern.

 For a time, he remained reticent, worried about the unnecessary distraction, but instead, reverting his gaze back on Svein, he voiced this query, “Are you sure that it would not be an imposition?”

Svein could hardly contain his bursting delight; so, you are not entirely opposed to it, and once more gave his ready consent.

From that time onwards, each night sharing the same lamplight, Teuquob sat opposite to Svein and, with due diligence, followed Stark’s instructions in reading and writing in the ancient dialects. These times spent in such proximity were not however without their measure of restraint and discomfort for Teuquob and Svein. Feeling the way, they did for each other; it took great deal of effort and willpower from each to direct and maintain their concentration on their studies. Ultimately, (at the right time) Teuquob was encouraged by Stark to only speak in the Wenjenkun’s language.  Her persistence in using the unfamiliar tongue, despite her inadequacies of speech and discernible frustrations (such as flushed cheeks) when she could not readily recall the words she wished to use endeared her still more to them.

Over time, despite their reserve and propriety of conduct, Svein and Teuquob were now growing more familiar with each other. Svein could not resist teasing her from time to time, making her more flustered or flushed with fury. This innocent interplay, when done in times other than the study period, was overlooked, and even silently condoned by Stark.

 In a noticeably brief time Teuquob marshaled enough of the old language that enabled her to read a line or two of their most treasured poems or prose.  Thirsting for more, she continued to pour over her studies with unending enthusiasm and delight.

                                                                                    ~

 (Epic story of “Legend of Nevetsecnuac” resumes in the next post, “The trip to the Monastery”- Section 1)

 

THE RESCUE - SECTION 8

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC 

THE RESCUE - SECTION 8

PRINCESS LUELING AND SHAO

Shutizan had never spoken with such vehement, passionate conviction before, though Teuquob had long ago had perceived, seen through the at times stern, restrained, rather reserved, deceptive exterior of her nanny and believed her to be a soft, caring person with gentle disposition, one who actually loved her charge as if she was her very own.

“I am now totally committed to the truth.  I made up my mind last night to give you a reason and a means to escape this terrible predicament.  Please child, do not hate me for keeping silent for so long; no, no, do not interrupt either, let me speak, before I lose my nerve.”

Then, straying in her thoughts, she interjected, “Oh, your mother was such a beautiful woman both inside and outside, as you, yourself, are growing up to be.  In fact, you are the very image of her, hence the reason for your father’s, His Majesty’s contempt.”

“Men’s vanity!” she spat on the floor, “Heaven may spare us from...” but then, getting a grip on herself, she smiled sheepishly and continued in a more even tone.  “Your mother’s name was Lueling.  She was the Fifth Princess of the Kingdom of Jenor, a peaceful, beautiful state about one-third the size of Kontu.

  It had the misfortune; however, of resting along the borders of our kingdom and possessing access to strategically important shipping ports… and for that reason, as so many others had, perished!  Of course, the existence of Jenor, by royal diktat (edict, decree), was entirely omitted from your studies, the reasons for it now, you may well comprehend.”

Then, Shutizan spoke of a turbulent time in history when the great armies under Lord Hedenko had waged incessant wars on all the neighboring countries, gaining Murong Di the territories he’d craved.  She succinctly narrated the key events and how some later campaigns, including the one against Jenor, were more directly overseen by His Majesty, who wished at the time to escape the tedious tranquility of his court.

“But what do I know of war strategies or politics...?” She smiled sheepishly then shook her head as if in self-admonition. “How I continue! Well anyhow, after the successful campaign against Jenor, His Majesty Murong Di entered the capital city leading the victorious armies and perched himself on your maternal grandfather’s conquered throne.  Then, as I have been told, he had the entire Royal family and anyone else of consequence brought before his presence, and, in front of your mother, who was made to bear witness, had them humiliated, debased then one by one slowly dismembered, sliced, eviscerated or other such, cruelly annihilated.  He had the same thirst for barbarism you see, not much different from Hedenko, he was.

“Only your poor mother Princess Lueling, was made the sole exception and so her life was spared.  Why, you ask? Because your father, our present sovereign, also had an eye for beauty, and your mother was the fairest maiden he had ever seen or possessed.  As for the other palace belles who were also spared, well, they were taken away to be abased and ravaged by the subordinates or profitably sold to brothels or into slavery.  What use did he have for them, when he had laid claim to the most enviable prize? The ensuing week, the soldiers, on orders from His Majesty, went on a rampage of murder, destruction and wanton mayhem, reducing a once-beautiful city to cinders, before the army’s final withdrawal.”

“Now child, what I’m about to tell you may cause you still greater distress.” Shutizan warned as she determinedly gazed at Teuquob’, “But I must be candid with you on all accounts.  You must be made aware of your father’s inherent cruelty.

“Imagine, if you can, how your poor, dear mother must have felt being made to watch her entire beloved family after unspeakable torment, being ruthlessly butchered, one by one, in front of her.  Yes, and when she lost consciousness, she was revived and unmercifully forced to witness still more atrocities. It was a sort of game for him you see, toying with the victims’ minds, first trampling on their integrity and their honor, then in the end, with their soul in shatters and when all speck of humanity was stripped away, to have them brutally subjugated and cut down. For simple decapitation or butchery, without the tantalizing debased spirit, would not suffice. Imagine if you can the depth of agony she must have endured.  The state she must have been reduced to after all that!  Now, I ask you, what need was there of such vile acts?”  She shook her head indignantly, “What had been the point of it all... The unequivocal display of his might? To mount further satisfaction as he drove her to the brink of insanity, meanwhile, sapping all resistance of her will…?” Shutizan absorbed herself in considering this for a moment then, turning her gaze back on Teuquob, heaved a deep sigh.  Teuquob’s head was lowered, and she was quietly shedding tears.  Biting her lip to constrain her own emotions, Shutizan continued, “At the time of her capture, Princess Lueling had been betrothed to a most handsome and virtuous aristocrat scholar, what was his name?  I should remember, for it was on her lips daily...Shao...that’s right, he was called Shao.  This most handsome young man, as I understood it, was a sensitive, most gentle soul who possessed great literary genius but, unfortunately, lacked martial skills.  As the youngest son of the Prime Minister of Jenor, and a distant cousin to Princess Lueling, your mother and he had been playmates since childhood, and, as they grew into young adulthood this childhood attraction and their innocent, carefree exchange had naturally blossomed into different kind of love.

Subsequently, the said young adults were no longer permitted to freely see each and certain restrictions for the proper decorum now had to be adhered to; however, overriding these complexities, they’d still maintained written correspondence and with it the deepest affection for each other.  Once, taking a grave chance, they had even rendezvoused secretly by the garden’s lotus pond to profess their devotion and eternal love for each other.  Within the palace walls, however, few secrets could be kept. When the princess’s father, a kindly, perceptive King, considering info, announced (pronounced in Court) his desired wish for their ‘future union in matrimony’, the two could not have been happier.

 But, alas, just a month before the Royal wedding ceremony was to take place, their country was plunged into war with Kontu, and only a brief time later their capital was besieged by Hedenko’s invading army.

“Now at the time of your mother’s capture this fact about her prior engagement was also disclosed to His Majesty Murong Di; your father had Shao therefore captured alive and had him brought before his presence.  Then, as ordered, Hedenko had Shao’s chest cruelly ripped open while the unfortunate was still alive.  Plucking the beating heart right out of the body, Hedenko (then just a field-marshal) presented it to Our Sovereign, in full view of your mother.”  At this point Shutizan cringed noticeably and her body gave an involuntary shudder.  Teuquob was too horrified to utter a sound and remained mortified, though curious, to hear the rest.

After taking a deep breath, the old nurse pushed on, “Your father looked at the bloody organ with scorn, and then remarked, “Ha, it’s but an ordinary heart!  Cast it to the dogs!”  Those were his exact words, I swear, as your mother told me.  I’m telling you all this, distasteful as it is, only because your mother once asked me to.  The night of her unfortunate demise, in fact, she made me swear an oath to only reveal this truth to you when the need arose, and not until then.  She had hoped you would be spared Murong Di’s wrath, but I think, deep down, she knew otherwise.  Now being such a time, I am bound by my oath to your mother, overriding His Majesty’s, to reveal all.  Yes, I have long since detested His Majesty, my liege, for his despicable acts.  It took me weeks to wipe away those horrible images from my mind, but I had to mask my indignation for your sake.”

Warily she looked at the door, and then moaned, “Your poor mother!  Already spent both emotionally and physically, this added atrocity proved too much for her to bear and so once more she’d collapsed, quite unconscious to the floor.  This time, however, despite their attempts, they failed to revive her.  The Imperial Physician diagnosed her state as, “Barely alive and in state of near comatose shock,” and then urged our Sovereign to have her taken to a quieter place where she could be properly tended to.  Begrudgingly, he must have agreed to it, for Princess Lueling regained consciousness several days later in his bed.

“Forgive me if this may sound cruel, but it may, perhaps, have been better had she never recovered.  For that night and nights after that Murong Di had his way with her and repeatedly violated her near senseless, limp body.  She later pleaded again and again with him to allow her to die, but he would grant her no such wish.  On the contrary, he took every precautionary measure and had her under constant surveillance to prevent any suicide attempts.”

Teuquob could not bear to hear anymore.  Her hands cupped over her face, she collapsed on the bed and sobbed uncontrollably.  Alarmed, the nurse rushed to console her, urging her to be strong.  Drying the girl’s eyes, Shutizan urged Teuquob to help her finish what she had started.

“It’s as hard for me to tell you this, as it is for you to hear.” She reasoned, “So, child, you must be stronger.  Old as I am, I’m tired already.  Now, you don’t want me worrying about your health on top of everything else too, do you?”  Teuquob pulled herself together and nodded her head.  “That’s my girl.”  The old nurse affectionately hugged her.  Then she told of how Princess Lueling was kept more like a prisoner in a high tower, under scrutiny in order to prevent her from killing herself.

“Favoring Princess Lueling, the most, your father visited her frequently.”  Scorn entered her voice, “Because your mother was the only one who had rejected his advances, remaining the only one he could not conquer, he became like a man possessed. All his other wives lost favor and his mounting infatuation, rather lust, drove him to the brink of madness. He incessantly fixated day and night on seizing (attaining) Princess Lueling’s true affections.  Despite all his efforts, however, he could never win her love; never make her forget her murdered fiancée!

“Since everything is according to the will of Heaven, not of man, you were meant to be conceived.  Pregnancy brought a definite change in your mother, and gave His Majesty renewed hope.  Thinking that, at last, he had won her over he relaxed the watch on her and looked forward to a time when he could resume his pleasures with her.

“Men!” Shutizan spat on the floor in disgust, “whether king or pauper, they are all cast from the same mold.  I’m glad I was never tainted by their filth.  I’m glad I was spared such contemptible...”  Checking her tongue, Shutizan smiled wryly and coughed.  “How I stray.  You don’t suppose I’m going senile already, do you?” she questioned the air as she walked around the room.  Then, sitting herself down once more; she resumed her say (continued), however, in a sadder tone.

“Don’t take what I say to heart dearest; not all men are the same, some are noble and good.... My hope is that you will meet one such person in future and fall in love and have the happiness that had been so cruelly denied to your poor mother….  Now, where was I?... “She closed her eyes to pick up the train of thought she’d veered from.  “Because your mother was against taking an innocent life and felt an obligation to the fetus (child) in her womb, she had resolved herself to endure her torment (to carry-it to full-term at least) until after you were born.  As for that contemptible father of yours, he looked forward to the day of your birth as well, not because he wanted or valued a child but...” Shutizan shook her head and murmured: “He craved your mother more than his kingdom, more than all the power he held.”  Once more she paused to catch her breath.  All this emotion had worn her out.

“It was after you were born,”, she finally, looked up to say, “at the time when you were no more than two weeks old, when your beautiful mother, on one peaceful fall afternoon, so tragically ended her life by throwing herself from the window of the high tower.  Ayy...”  The terrible picture just being evoked in Shutizan’s mind made her unable to continue.

 She rose hastily and walked away to stare out the window.  Tears flowed down her cheeks in defiance of her best efforts to stifle them.  “How I carry on.  I’m but an old fool, an old weakling.”  She bit her upper lip and angrily stamped her foot to constrain her emotions.  Then, quickly wiping away all evidence of tears, she sat herself down as before by bedside and added indignantly,

 “The King, your father, was outraged.  Far from admiring your mother for her virtue, he scorned her as a contemptible woman, deeming her act as most despicable and, most of all, unfair to him.

 First, he claimed, she had enslaved his emotions, then cast them aside as thought they were worthless dirt.  How dare she uphold the memory of a dead man over him, forsaking and rejecting all his boundless devotion and love? 

His disappointment soon unhinged his tumultuous rage, and he acted with unheard of ferocity.  Many suffered at his hand! Blood flowed like rivers as thousands, mostly civilians, lost their lives most brutally!

“Cruel, such cruel acts many more months, ensued this mad savagery!” Shutizan shaking her head bit the corner of her lip.

“Meanwhile, on his decree your poor mother had been unceremoniously buried in an unmarked, pauper’s grave, no prayers, no sacrifices, nothing! She’d been hence forever denied the peace she’d deserved in the afterlife.  Ahh...”, again Shutizan sighed. 

“Such was her tragic end, and your mother’s cruel, most cruel fate.  To this day no ne, save for the Sovereign, knows where your mother is buried.”   

“Riled by this injustice, long ago I did make some discreet inquiries, but these yielded no result.  Your poor, dear mother!  Then, as if that was not enough, with the same stone heart he had you, a two-week-old baby, disowned, put under house arrest. The man you’ve known to date as your father was your paternal uncle-in-law. I suppose that’s right… For he’s the husband of our Sovereign’s younger sister…He took pity on you, and securing permission from the King, on condition that you’ll still be kept in similar form of confinement, formally adapted you. In this way he’d hoped to shield you from future ramifications, as well as provide you with a personal name and acceptable surname. In time however, even this became too much for the wrathful king to bear. I don’t believe it was a hunting accident that caused the early demise of your foster father…But again, my suspicions have never been proven …so I must keep my tongue.”

Then, after a thoughtful silence, the old nurse muttered, reflecting on how, with the advancing of the years the king had only become worse, on how he had only nursed his anger and hatred, and how, in punishing Teuquob in this manner, he was still seeking revenge (vengeance) on his long-dead wife, Princess Lueling.

Just then a sharp knock on the door startled them both.  The concerned Chief attendant (head chambermaid) was at once abruptly dismissed by an incensed Shutizan.  But then, on second thought, Shutizan called her back and ordered her, even though it was beneath her station, to fetch them the no:5 herb tea.  The old nurse’s throat was parched and Teuquob looked too pale.  When the tray was produced Shutizan sternly gave the order to her rival, “The young mistress needs her rest.  See to it that no one disturbs us.”

“Yes ma’am.” She begrudgingly assented; but as she was leaving, she snuck another look at Teuquob.  Observing the girl’s condition, she halted her step, contemplating suggesting that perhaps a physician be fetched to examine Teuquob.

“What are you waiting for?” Shutizan’s curt, angry voice however deterred the other; for an open confrontation with latter when she was in such a foul mood would not be advisable.

“Sorry, ma’am,” she meekly ejected and quickly left the room.  Shutizan was an old shrew that no one dared cross or disobey.

This special brand of herb tea was appropriate for times like this, for it soothed the nerves and rushed blood to their cheeks.  Placing the empty cup down the nurse now spoke with and even tone, “Dear child, I have told you all this, painful as it was, to make you understand.  Now you must set aside all propriety, I mean your filial piety towards this one who do not deserve it.  Since the King has long ago forsaken you and spared you not one ounce of parental affection or care, you do not owe him any homage, least of all obedience.  You owe it to your mother and yourself, however, to survive and not perish in this vile net of fate he has cast to ensnare you.

“Your mother’s life was tragically spent before its time, but this need not be your destiny.  You must disobey the King and get away to safety without fail.  Only then, once you are safe in another state, may you offer the prayers and proper sacrifices to her soul.  Only then may she find peace in the afterlife.  Her spirit must be released from its internment in this world and be able to find entry to the heavens above.  Her long-tormented soul must be spared from further anguish.  Only you, my child, the last surviving member of your mother’s family, can offer this solace to her.  Since the Gods are merciful, they will hear the prayers you offer, as long as it’s done through a proper religious order, regardless of creed or sect.

“Take counsel, Teuquob.  I have thought long and hard on this and have finally devised a plausible course of action whereby we may be able to free you from this entrapment.  Listen with care, therefore, to my instructions.  Tonight, we will pretend to have retired early, only...”

“You don’t look well, my dear, perhaps we should go back.”

“Go back?  No!  I can’t!”  Trembling, her throat constricting, Teuquob protested.  Then, realizing where she was, she smiled bashfully, steadied her heart and apologized.

“I quite understand.  There’s no need for explanations.” Stark with a compassionate response, withdrew his hand.  “Still, perhaps you would like to rest here a bit before our return.  We needn’t proceed to the next point.”

                                                                                       ~

 

(Stay tuned for the next exciting post, the conclusion of “The Rescue”, Section 9)

 

THE RESCUE - SECTION 7

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RESCUE - SECTION 7

Lord Deng Hedenko

 Subsequent morning at first daylight and well before Teuquob awoke, as part of their daily routine, both Stark and Svein again headed straight for the wooded clearing to resume their martial exercises. With due diligence, unstintingly Stark continued to tutor his nephew on the varied martial techniques and strategies that he had mastered or utilized via the time-honored lessons learned from eminent men, illustrious generals, heroes renowned for their skill and other such distinguished fighters that had existed throughout Wenjenkun’s history.

On Svein’s insistence, another key combat style, that of Kontu’s, was now added to his already taxing, grueling (physically & mentally demanding) practice schedule. Svein’s rigorous training encompassing all had commenced from the moment he could walk. Having the boy’s best interest at heart, Stark’d tried moreover to instill in Svein the fighting spirit, the competitive edge needed to win at all costs, notwithstanding (despite) the opponent’s superior power, strength and ability. Svein was drilled and grilled, all the while propelled to becoming utterly invincible in combat and to overcoming any or all obstacles that he may later encounter.  Stark expected nothing less than perfection from his apt pupil and even though he rarely praised Svein, he was inwardly pleased with the boy’s steady progress.  Endowed with strong stamina, natural agility and superior intellect, Svein had mastered with remarkable ease all the strategies in warfare, requisite martial techniques, varied weaponry, excelling particularly in sword fighting and archery. 

“Only a little while longer and Svein would be ready.” Stark nodded his head in approval, observing the discharged swift steady stream of arrows- each powerful shot finding their precise mark on the prescribed target one after another, all perfect bulls’ eye – a target placed at such an incredible distance that it was virtually invisible/barely detectible.

Stark closed his eyes and heaved a grateful sigh. That elusive time and seemingly infeasible ambition was gradually but surely nearing at hand; soon he would have fulfilled his obligation and perhaps his greatest contribution to their cause: a conference of skill and ability that would one day with measure of certainty, ensure the boy’s future survival and success.

Postponing his certain demise, Stark had persevered through daunting challenges and adversities, with that incessant zeal in full anticipation of the day when all past criminal injustices be redressed and the fallen could long at last be properly avenged!

Meanwhile, a youth of not yet twenty, day by day Svein was beginning to look every bit the seasoned warrior, exercising in the cool of the mornings and the heat of noon, regardless of the weather.  A promise had been made to him that one day he would inherit his uncle’s heirloom sword, which he had been shown only once as a child.  This sword, encrusted with fine jewels and wrought of exquisitely crafted hard tempered steel, a metal both strong and pliable, had left such an indelible impression on the young boy’s mind that he had since tried his utmost to achieve the skill and be worthy of such an honor. 

He practiced ceaselessly each day, thence, even longer than the required time, without any show of strain or tiredness. 

Svein’s aggrandized endurance and ability, fueled by the intense, driving force of his unyielding will, augmenting his prowess as a warrior, is what encouraged and most comforted Stark. In the span of years that Stark had been Svein’s willing mentor, protectorate and friend, the bond of affection and mutual respect between these two had, as mentioned before, grown akin to that between father and son. Things had remained thus, between Stark and Svein for little over a decade (12 Years), with their daily patented, predictable routines having only minor variances or deviation from the norm and certain breaks when Svein went on hunting trips or errands into town.

                                                                                             ~

As fate would have it, an unforeseen factor, namely Teuquob, had now been integrated into their equable (unvarying) equation.  Reticent at first, Stark had gradually, successfully incorporated this variant modification- a necessary social aspect/ phase of Svein’s more thorough education- into their daily routine with hopeful portent for the future.

Moreover, as Teuquob’d assumed, on her insistence, more and more of the household chores, it’d allowed Svein more time to fully concentrate on his pedantic studies and martial practices.

Teuquob was such a good help that it also provided Stark with the opportunity to now oversee previously neglected or postponed lesser concerns.  Another boon being that, finding spare time now, Stark became well disposed to taking extended, contemplative walks with Teuquob, presumably to appreciate the exquisite mountain scenery; but contrary to appearances and mindful of her future, during many of these jaunts Stark strove with his subtle tutoring to instill in her the requisite skills needed to be more adept at surviving in extreme wilderness.

Be that as it may, often on these excursions they would stay within the deemed safe circumference and whenever possible followed nature’s veins to reach their destination. In this lush environment however, even the previously cleared pathways would oftentimes in fortnight be invaded by lush green rank vegetation and serpentine vines therefore hindering any advance or transposing it altogether to perilous state.  Hence, Stark with his machete led the way, at the same time affording them the added protection against chance encounters with the predatory animals.  If the avenue was not too congested but only slightly obstructed, Stark simply stirred the ground ahead with the blunt side of the tip to drive away any crawling creatures or coiled serpents from the undergrowth that might cause Teuquob unwarranted fright.

Eventually, during respite Stark and Teuquob would converse, oftentimes at length, pursuing varied yet always impersonal concerns; via secret understanding, each limited themselves to educational or to mundanely innocuous, present topics.  Consequently, for a very long time Stark did not ascertain the reason or reasons that had compelled Teuquob to undertake such a perilous journey.  His restraint and due discretion meanwhile being very much appreciated by Teuquob, growing daily in respect and affection for Stark- in time she came to wish she could openly confess her burdensome past (tribulation) to him.  Only her reluctance born out of her inner fear that Stark with his traditional views, strict morality and unbending principles on filial piety might not be so forgiving once he’d learned of her disobedient act towards her father- was what deterred her thus far from revealing her secret.

All the same, barring this impediment, day by day Teuquob and Stark had grown closer in heart; in the interim Svein felt somewhat excluded, especially since he had to rely on his uncle’s discretion, disposition and good graces to receive synopsis of their private conversations.  Oftentimes left on the sidelines, he would periodically steal glimpses in her direction, his attention distracted from his studies by her delightful mannerisms or by her sweet, melodious voice.  Though the budding feelings of love had already taken root and in defiance of his will presently were burgeoning and blossoming in his heart, ambiguous about her feelings, after a careful consideration, he’d wisely or unwisely perhaps, opted to relinquishing any attempt or outward show of communicating this to her.

Unknown to Svein his affections were in fact, surreptitiously reciprocated by Teuquob.  His very presence stirred warmth and excitement in her bosom, and whenever he was in proximity, her heart palpitated wildly, and she felt short of breath.  Oftentimes, she felt flustered, and her cheeks burned during their linguistic studies together, especially when their eyes happened to mutely meet, or their hands accidentally touched.  Still, she guarded her secret with utmost diligence and masked these unavoidable outward telltale signs so masterfully that Svein came to believe it was arduous, exacting studies (lessons) that brought on such display and that she bore no such interest in him and at best tolerated him.  In some ways, when it came to deciphering feminine temperaments, Svein in his tender years, was unfortunately still quite naïve. 

Of course, this added complication, the supposedly covert, burgeoning attraction between Svein and Teuquob did not escape the worldly/discerning Stark- only he chose to remain, albeit temporarily, mute on the subject.  Since both had impeccable morality and irreproachable integrity, there was no immediate, warranted reason for concern, or any possibility of a future impropriety or misconduct; meanwhile, Svein’s studies or his training had not suffered in the least from this distraction, far from it, it seemed to further galvanize Svein’s resolve.

Over time, as Stark oftentimes sat (across) between their eye’s paths, mindful of the irresistible attraction and evident, mounting intensity of it, he could not help but be perturbed, surmising the complexities of a looming probability of the certain future union. His mind beset with worries, he would hence, stroke his beard rather distractedly as he pondered on the alternative…

“Hmmm…. Besides, since their own portended future most likely be embroiled in great danger and uncertainty, how could he, in good conscience draw Teuquob into this rather risky, hazardous sphere?”  Yet, instinctively Stark knew, that it was already too late, that perhaps preordained, she’d already permeated their respective lives.  “That, conceivably, their fate was meant to be intermingled with hers; for who could truly fathom the course of fate?”

                                                                                           ~

As more time elapsed, the heat and splendor of summer gradually gave way to the cool temperatures and the glorious colors of fall.  Presently, golden, red-brown leaves, twigs and brambles of all sorts wove an incredible tapestry over the ground as far as the eye could see.  The intoxicating, picturesque scenery naturally drew both Stark and Teuquob to outdoors with more frequency.  One such fine day, bathing under the checkered golden rays of the sun they had initiated an advance towards their favorite destination- all the while managing the at times winding, difficult paths or periodically pausing to admire and be absorbed by the full-splendor of nature.  Delightfully, the brisk mountain air filled their sleeves, puffed their lapels and gently caressed their faces, urging them to go on.  Then quite suddenly, the cool breeze would pick up force, whipping about the heads of the weak vegetation and the golden branches, dotting the air with a flurry of fall colors, as ancient pines, resilient to the wind, stood defiantly erect and proud, spreading their canopy of green over them and the subordinate trees or the ominous, grotesque rocks. Trailing Stark, Teuquob casually cast her vacant gaze on the falling leaves, following their wavering descent to the ground; suddenly however, the decayed matter being trampled underfoot came to resemble the fallen, spent lives and her heart suddenly was gripped with an inexplicable anguish.

In vain she fought to resist the tears welling up in her eyes but the onslaught of vivid images from the past defiantly still crowded her memory, obliterating what scant, and remnant serenity of her previous mood.

                                                                                            ~

Transported in mind to that precise time and place that had started it all, she envisioned herself on her thirteenth birthday receiving, at the crack of dawn, the long-anticipated summons from the Court, to present herself before His Majesty, the King. Amidst the flurry of activity readying her for proper presentation, “Could this be the end of my unfair incarceration?” she’d thought, rather hoped, at the time. 

As it were, from the moment of her mother’s death, when Teuquob was barely one month old, she had been confined to the cold and desolate Northern Pavilion, a secluded place far removed from everything and everyone.  Tucked away, as though an unwanted criminal, she had been reared there with none of the privileges or affection of her other presumed siblings.  Forbidden to set foot outside of her gilded cage, this captive fledgling with a highly inquisitive and imaginative mind, had grown up with no interaction, formally or otherwise, with the other members of her paternal or maternal family, and with only the vaguest notion that she even had a father. 

Teuquob’s deprivation was such that she was not even permitted to visit the family cemetery to pay her respects to her ancestors as it was required (customary) on the set most auspicious days. The rare exchange between her and her evasive father had always been formal and rather contrite to say the least. It was as though it pained him to spend any amount of time with her. Being a discerning soul, she would at times pick up on his curious soup of emotions: pity, kindness, righteous indignation, fear and something else she could not rightly say. She had obtained some solace from the notion however which Shutizan sometime prior had defiantly, put into her head: that the reason for his cold indifference was because Teuquob herself bore uncanny resemblance to her much beloved, deceased mother.

“He had to have loved her very much; and though re-married and fostered other children; he still could not forsake or forget his former wife.” Quite the romantic at heart, this notion therefore, from hence had carried her through the rough spots and made her privation in life more bearable.

Even in the aftermath of her presumed sole benefactor father’s untimely death, on his Majesty’s bidding, little else being invariable, Teuquob had continued with her enforced, sequestered lifestyle and restrictive, tedious private education from string of obdurate, mulish, close-minded and rather grim resident tutors. Despite the constricting sterile environment however, it’d still failed to stifle her creativity or inborn talents and so, by the age of twelve, her brilliance of mind had shown in her essays, dissertations, prose and lyric poems, rivaling the finest academics of her time.

                                                                                                  ~

 

When she was summoned by His Royal Highness Murong Di, deeming this the Heavenly favor that she’d long since prayed for that she was perhaps being finally recognized for her talents: with bursting, enthusiastic joy of someone about to be set free, she’d entered the closed carriage drawn by eight ebony thoroughbreds (pedigreed horses) that had been sent from the palace stables in ready anticipation of her compliance. 

Upon her presentation at court, this enchanting belle that had no equal, had at once transfixed all eyes and captivated all hearts. Many felt blessed, envisioning her to being an exquisite fairy descended directly from the Heavens. She had moved all except for one that is... His Royal Highness with a heart of granite, after scrutinizing her with his scornful, derisive, icy stare, had it formally proclaimed in an unconscionably cruel edict that in two weeks’ time she was to be wed to Lord Deng Hedenko. 

When the designated suitor’s name Hedenko, who was in absentia, was loudly pronounced- the resulting great shock, an undisguised cold shudder had at once permeated the tense atmosphere and rippled through the assembled body of obsequious ministers, Lords and courtiers alike, in Court.  In that all pervasive eerie silence, none daring to appeal on her behalf against this inhumane edict, they had instead with bowed heads exchanged covert, questioning sidelong glances, and then stole pitying glimpses at Teuquob.

In contrast to her outward submission and perfect composure however, inwardly, the flames of anguish and pain had in fact torn through her emotional defenses to sear Teuquob’s heart to cinders- for even she, sheltered as she’d been from the world, knew what that name stood for.  Even she knew of the pernicious and cruel exploits of this much dreaded and feared warlord! 

Lord Hedenko, a stout, belligerent man of thirty-four, was infinitely the most influential, most powerful man in the kingdom, second only to His Highness.  His ferocious appetite for blood could not be assuaged despite the countless savage, exceedingly barbaric exploits or truculent military campaigns during his unsurpassed, admittedly brilliant, meteoric rise in power and affluence. Even as a pre-teen young man he’d enjoyed the distinction of being notorious for his pugnacious disposition and unscrupulous, oftentimes spiteful acts of brutality in the traditional, championship games; and in general, during his life, indiscriminate abuse of both genders (men or women). 

Manipulative and devoid of the least compassion, Deng Hedenko had married more than nine times for financial and political gain only, fostering more than ten sons and two daughters by his many wives.  But only three of his wives had survived thus far, and they, if left sane at all, were rumored to be living in unenviable, under most wretched conditions.  Disposed to sudden bursts of temper oftentimes over the most unpredictable, trivial things, last year alone he had maliciously tortured and murdered two of his sons and a daughter on a whim. When his temper rose, and his pupils shone with that vicious gleam, then his intended victim, as good as dead, did not ask for clemency, but rather prayed for a swift and a merciful end.  Consequently, none envied any woman he’d elected to have as his bride, despite his enormous wealth and power.  Yet, this was exactly the fate His Royal Highness had opted for the fair maiden Teuquob, of whom covertly, through the palace grapevine, they had heard so much about, but only now laid eyes on.  In the grips of such a tyrant she could not be expected to last out the year. This was tantamount to, if not worse than the cruelest death sentence.

Upon hearing the dictum, rather verdict, “Why am I being so unjustly punished?” she’d asked in silence, holding back her tears.  “Why am I condemned to suffer such a horrible end?  What great crimes have I, or my father, committed to warrant such disdain from the king?”   Outwardly, however, with trembling breath and a lowered head Teuquob had voiced her obedience to His Royal Highness and as was required, thanked His Majesty for his regard and due benevolence.

                                                                                       ~

Even before her dismissal from court, the news about her had spread like wildfire within the Northern Pavilion.  All who felt the least compassion for her lamented her fate and sighed continuously or shook their heads in utter disbelief, some shedding sorrowful tears quietly on the side!

“How unlucky she is; hapless, ill-fated and ill-starred; what kind of deplorable curse is upon her!” She heard them bemoan and exclaim in wave upon wave amidst sighs and whispers behind her back as she’d willed her unsteady limbs to climb the steps to her private chamber.  “She is so beautiful, yet fated to such an untimely, tragic end.”

Her nanny Shutizan who had always been there to console her in her times of dire need, this time around, being way overcome with emotion and grief to be of any use, had hastily ran off to hide her tears from Teuquob.  Others at a loss to how best to console her, on some pretext or other, had also made themselves scarce. It was then that her courage had failed her!  Having nowhere to turn to, on that wretched, long, woeful evening, feeling forlorn and utterly alone, in bed Teuquob lamenting her fate had wept ceaselessly, soaking (dampening) her pillow with her streaming, bitter  tears till overcome with exhaustion, she’d drifted into a deep, disturbed sleep.  Then with her captive soul cruelly in the throngs of evil, she’d tossed and turned, assailed by the persistent, recurring nightmares that oftentimes drenched her in a cold sweat and startled her into wakefulness, denying her much needed respite.

 Each nightmare ended the same way, with Hedenko’s hands wrapped around her slender neck, ready to snap it into two like a dry twig while she gasped and struggled despondently for the life’s precious breath (air).

 When Shutizan, called on Teuquob at sunrise the following morning she had had quite a fright at the sight of Teuquob’s condition.  Aroused to fury, she’d lamented bitterly her own folly, then lashing out at the already distraught attendants, she had roundly abused them all one by one for their negligence, even though she knew in her heart of hearts that they too had been rendered, by her own admission to Teuquob, as helpless in this matter as she!  Still, after she’d scolded the last one away, Shutizan had tended to frail Teuquob herself until at last her pallid face and sallow cheeks had reclaimed some of their normal pigment.

Cradling her in her arms and rocking her gently, the old nurse then confessed, “My dear child, you mustn’t think that I had forsaken you last night, far from it! Yes, I was way overcome with grief at first to be of much use and not wishing to frighten you further, I opted for solitude till I could compose myself and be restored to my senses; now I’m fully resolved to fighting this!”  At this point she abruptly stopped and, rising, went to listen at the door.  Ensured that no one had been eavesdropping, she returned and sat facing Teuquob on the edge of the latter’s bed.

“Listen carefully child, after an agonizingly long period of contemplation, faced with such dire circumstance, I’ve decided on the only, albeit disobedient recourse.” She announced with firm conviction in her voice.  “But I no longer care about fealty or my moral obligation to my Sovereign; nor am I afraid of the consequences, so incensed I am by this latent injustice and his unending cruelty!”  She shook her head, “Was it not enough that he ruined your poor mother’s happiness and drove her to an early grave?  Must he now also utterly ruin your life too?”

“Whatever do you mean, dear Nana?  How could His Majesty have anything to do with my mother’s tragic and early demise?  My father himself told me that she’d died shortly after I was born, because of an untreatable malady!” Teuquob sat upright, (somewhat) perturbed. Her heart palpitated wildly (as her pulse mounted) with the encroaching doubt and the ensuing wayward thoughts presently imbuing her brain. “My mother had a (coronary) stroke that ….”

“You don’t understand, dear child.” Shutizan interrupted her with an abrupt gesture of her hand. “You have not been told the …. Oh, chuck it….! His Majesty is your real father!” Shutizan suddenly blurted it out.

“How can that be?” Teuquob eventually overcoming her shock reached out to cup her nana’s face and raised it, forcing a direct eye contact with her.

Shutizan suddenly left speechless, her eyes brimming with tears, all she could manage was an earnest nod of the head.  

“I do not believe it. No…You are deliberately trying to confuse me!” Teuquob vehemently shook her head, in utter disbelief. For embracing this fact would also mean that the truth, all past experiences, what she believed in, loved and cherished, even her scant relationships, in short, the foundations of her existence, for what’s worth, would have all been based on fabrication…Lies mounted on lies!!!

Averting her eyes, Shutizan, nodded. “I’m sorry dear, but as Heaven is my witness, it’s the truth. So many times, I wanted to tell you this: that His Majesty is your very own flesh and blood father; but I was bound by an oath that entrapped me in an unjust conspiracy of silence.  Oh, blessed, precious child...” Nodding her head she promised. “Regardless, I’m now resolved in disclosing, yes… disclosing all the enigmatic, missing facts, bits and pieces of personal history that had been kept from you that all the same you’ve been yearning to know.  Henceforth I shall withhold nothing. Finally, the time has come for the unequivocal unveiling of, though offensive as it may be, the ugly truth.  It’s only right that you should be informed!” She dropped her head and with her downcast gaze focused (pinned) on the floor, she mumbled, “Then, perhaps, you will comply, accede to my subsequent proposal (plan).” 

The rest of her words barely audibly, were uttered as if in self-assertion.  “Though it may be a slim chance, one never knows…? We may still beat the insurmountable odds to eventually succeed!” The ray of hope that had brushed her face had swiftly disappeared, at the same time Shutizan’s forehead creased with her mind anew beset with the onrush of countless pressing concerns.

“But never mind that now.”  Defiantly, she wiped the perspiration from her face and leaned forward to take the confused, distraught Teuquob’s hand in hers. Unclenching it, she stroked her palm and raising it to her lips affectionately kissed it repeatedly. In the aftermath of it, looking into the Teuquob’s eyes, Shutizan spoke with a slight tremble in her voice, “For years now I have stood by and watched helplessly how you, an innocent child was forced to suffer psychic, emotional depredation, a cruel intentional abuse from that biological, Royal father of yours.”  She shook her head, then swallowing her spit; in a barely audible voice she mumbled her suspicions. “Even your foster father, a victim in his own right, could do little in curbing, let alone amending the injustices…In the end as he, having genuine affections for you, became more and more indignant…well, maybe that’s what’d cost him his life…?” She bit her lip, then looking up, she confessed: “But only now, driven by desperation, I’m ashamed to admit it, have I found the courage to defy His Majesty.  Still, I’ve nursed you from birth to adulthood; I’ll be damned, pardon the profanity, if I let them ruin it all and throw my precious jewel so callously (into the pit) away!”

                                                                                        ~

(New and exciting developments will continue in the next post of The Rescue- Section 8)