STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 4

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 4

 KENNETH BIRGER

Lu, unaware of Nevetsecnuac’s inner query, took another sip of water from the cup and then continued on with his recounting (relating) the past, tragic set of events: "Her husband, Kenneth Birger, though a man of mild nature, in fact quite timid, was still so outraged, so incensed that, with the letter still clutched in his hand, he took his grievance straight to Lord Shonne Gulbrand, not much caring for the consequences.  I suppose he had really loved her.”

“Dwenng denied the charges for all he was worth; even producing witnesses to lie about his whereabouts saying he was instead attending another function. Dwenng validated this bogus facade through sham testimonies of others who repeated falsehoods all in all to slander her good name and to drag it through unimaginable filth in order to establish her as a wanton hussy.  He even went so far as to frame another man, who resembled him, to justify his supposed innocence and establish a claim of mistaken identity.  Had it not been for the Lord's discernment, good judgment and his ability to trick a confession out of Dwenng in the court under oath, justice would never have been served, and another innocent fellow would have instead suffered the consequences.  As it was the framed man was cleared and released with a small stipend from Dwenng's estate to ease his suffering.”

“Lord Shonne Gulbrand was relentless in his pursuit of truth. When all came to light, Dwenng was charged with attempted rape, trespassing and extortion. His sentence was prescribed by law. He was severely beaten until his flesh hung in tatters, and he was branded with the mark of the adulterer.  No one foresaw that, before his transfer to the provincial prison to serve his incarceration for twenty years, Dwenng would bribe the guards and effect (prompt, make)) his escape.  Lusting for vengeance, armed with the incriminating documents of Lord Shonne Gulbrand's intended rebellion, he made straight for the Capital and in close court presented them to Zakhertan Yozdek.”

"Though Zakhertan Yozdek was infuriated, he nevertheless knew of Lord Shonne Gulbrand’s moral might and influence.  Not wishing for an all-out, open rebellion at this juncture or to give the least provocation for swift retaliation from such a powerful Lord, Zakhertan opted instead to entrap the prey and eliminate all trouble at the root.  And so, Zakhertan’s subterfuge was to suppress this incriminating evidence and detain the villainous nephew, Dwenng, until the Anniversary date of Zakhertan’s coronation.  At which time an elaborate ceremony was planned, compelling all important aristocrats and notables of the Empire to attend with customary gifts, to profess or renew their vow of allegiance to His Majesty in person.  Lord Shonne Gulbrand, his beautiful wife Lady Bergdis and other close family members would be among the attendees.”

“On that faithful day, all through the ceremony and the ensuing celebrations nothing untoward was said or done to alarm the prey.  But at the conclusion of the festivities the Lord and his immediate family were promptly rounded up and brought before Zakhertan Yozdek to be formally charged with treason. During their brief incarceration, even before the commencement of the trial, the vast elite force, waiting in the wings in a neighboring province, on cue invaded Lord Shonne Gulbrand's lands in Moulon and decimated all that stood in their way. Thousands were slaughtered indiscriminately, land scorched, and historical structures wantonly pulled down. After this killing spree, nearly all livestock and crops were laid to waste.” 

“Back at the Capital, where the rule of law could not be so easily ignored, Lord Shonne, after a brief show trial, was secretly offered leniency in his punishment and, more importantly the (permanence) endurance of his bloodline, if he divulged the present whereabouts of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and the infant Prince. When Lord Shonne adamantly refused, however, his Lordship’s persecution took on a brutish turn. Lord Shonne chained to a wall in the imperial dungeon, was subjected to endless hideous tortures in order to wring the location from him, but no word escaped his Lordship’s noble lips. Since they failed to break his resolve, Zakhertan next targeted Lord Shonne’s beloved family. Before his very eyes his precious son and daughter were choked to death with a silken rope.  Lord Shonne's elderly maternal uncle, meanwhile, was dashed against a hedge of swords.”

“Earlier still, Zakhertan Yozdek had arranged for a private audience with his younger sister Lady Ingrit and tried to persuade her Ladyship to turn against her husband. Zakhertan even tried to coax (cajole, inveigle) her into divulging the whereabouts of the missing price, to spare her husband the ultimate pain and torture. But her ladyship’s deep affection and loyalty towards her husband was unwavering; her staunch resolve infuriated Zakhertan and so, Lord Shonne’s beautiful wife, Lady Ingrit, was dragged into the dungeon (like a common criminal) and cruelly beaten to death before him with iron rods and clubs. Courageously, to her last breath she had cursed her brother Zakhertan and encouraged her beloved husband to not give in.  After all that, plus other unspeakable atrocities, when Lord Shonne still would not give them what they sought, he too was severely beaten until all his bones were broken and then publicly executed.  They hung his decapitated head at the main gate as a lesson to all would be rebels.”

“Zakhertan Yozdek was so incensed that he ordered the total extinction(obliteration) of Lord Shonne Gulbrand’s clan, down to the last member. Even the servants were killed.” 

Cupping his face in his hands, Lu gave way to a storm of tears until his sorrow was spent.  Then, drying his eyes, he added, "Yes, the Lord's perfect countenance we have just witnessed testifies to the mercy of Heaven and attests to the truth of that old saying, 'Benevolence in Life brings Beauty in the afterlife'.  The traitor Zakhertan Yozdek will not be so lucky.  If only someone could succeed in killing that, Demon!  Countless have tried, but to no avail.”

"As for Dwenng, the wretch, at least he paid for his treachery with his ignominious end.  May he rot forever in Hell!  Oh, how he squirmed like a pig, impaled on a spear in the City’s marketplace, but some would say, including me, even that was too lenient a punishment for one so vile as he.  The cursed swine!  Did he really think he could get away with what he had done?"  Knitting his brows and raising a clenched fist, Lu spat on the floor.

"Our small contingent, upon returning from the mission, witnessed too late the evidence of Zakhertan's wrath. But we avenged ourselves on the garrison commander of Zakhertan's forces in this province.  After leaving his head stuck to a sow in a pigsty outside his camp, we parted company forever.  I, myself, retraced my steps to where I had parted with Your Majesty and Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon in the hopes of offering His Lordship my services once more, but it was to no avail.  Now you are here, let me offer you my fealty, my Prince."  Lu's eyes burned with rekindled fire.  "I realize I'm not as nimble as I used to be, but I still have a few good years of service left in me.  I can still fight.  I will follow you faithfully, Your Highness, to the ends of the world, not fearing death.  Please allow me this chance."

Not wishing to fatigue the old man any further with reasons as to why he must stay put, Nevetsecnuac pretended to agree to let Lu accompany him to the Capital. 

Then, noting the old soldier's drooping eyelids, he encouraged him to recline on the bed once more and get some rest.

"All right", Lu consented, "I'll lie down for just a bit, but I will not sleep.  There is so much I still want to tell you. So much we must do in preparation for…."  His words drifted off to an inaudible mumble, his eyes closed and soon with his shallow breathing it became clear that he was lost to all-encompassing slumber.  Nevetsecnuac rose, affectionately covered Lu with a quilt then with pensive eyes watched Lu sleep for some time.

Borrowing Lu's meager writing implements, he composed a brief letter telling of his gratitude to this old warrior, giving his reasons for not allowing Lu to accompany him and asking his forgiveness. To foster hope, Nevetsecnuac then urged Lu to keep in good form in ready anticipation of that future time when, once Nevetsecnuac had achieved his goal, he would send for him.  He then bade his fond farewell to the old soldier.  He withdrew his money pouch from his sash and left a goodly portion of the contents beside Lu's bed wrapped in the letter.

Before dawn the rain tapered off then, at the first light of day, stopped altogether.  Appearing only as a shadowy figure, Nevetsecnuac snuck out of the city gates and, reaching the Inn where he’d checked in earlier, ordered a small breakfast, quickly settled his account then had Fiery Comet saddled.  He rode back to the small, wooded area outside the gates where he had buried Lord Asger's sword.  Again, with the sword slung on his back and concealed under the cape, he vaulted back onto Fiery Comet and fell into a canter towards the Capital.

It was mid-morning when Lu woke with a start.  His eyes eagerly searched for the prince but there was no trace of him. Understanding what had happened he cursed himself endlessly for eating and drinking so much the night before.  Consequently, the deep slumber had robbed him of the chance of a lifetime. With a sinking heart he scrambled to his feet.

Lu shook his head and stamped his foot thinking, now it would be far too late to track his Liege.  Then his eyes fell on the small bundle on the table, he unraveled it.

Tears coursed down his cheeks like rain onto the page he was reading, smudging some of the writing but, when he reached the last line, hope sprang up once again in his heart and he quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Thankfully he raised the note to his lips, and then as caution dictated, he went over to the fire and reluctantly fed the paper to the flames. 

Another kind of fire burned in Lu now and he paced the room to and for with his heart pounding as he mumbled, "I must get in shape.  I must get in shape."  Finally halting for breath, he threw his arms up into the air and shouted in a resounding voice, "Oh, blessed Heaven, I'm alive again!"

 

(END OF SECTION 4)

 

STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 3

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 3

Cold shivers gripped Lu’s heart, and his face contorted with sadness as he recalled the horrific details of so long ago.  In his anguish, he bit his lip so hard that blood trickled down his chin and onto his bare chest. He, oblivious to the trail of blood, spoke of the tragic demise of his wife who had been tortured at length and then made to witness as her only son’s life was snuffed (extinguished), all, in order to extract information from her, concerning Lu's whereabouts.

 "But how could she tell them anything? I had left under cover of night without a word to anyone. The mission demanded absolute secrecy. And for that, she was … (Lu’s tongue froze, for he could not bring himself to say it,) until... ah, such inconceivable cruelty! To think men is capable of, could conceive such extreme torment (abuse)!"  Lu lamented, shedding more tears, "If only I had the foresight, I would rather have ended their lives swiftly myself and spared them such agony."

Realizing the fetters of providence that linked him with Lu, Nevetsecnuac dropped to his knees and bowed respectfully to the beggar before him.

"What's come over you, son?” Lu rushing over pulled him to his feet.

"You were one of the elite guards dispatched by Lord Shonne Gulbrand to deliver Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon to safety, were you not?"

"Yes, but how can you know that?” Lu cried in astonishment. "Clearly you are not what you seem…. Who are you really, sir?"

Svein’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) reply was cut short by a violent gust of wind that sprang up instantly within the room, rattling the windows. The flames of the fire grew dim and then rekindled, spewing forth a dense smoke that rolled across the room like a fog to obscure their vision. Nevetsecnuac rubbed his eyes to clear his sight, then, looking up, saw a man's form standing by the scroll. Nevetsecnuac, springing to his feet, called out, "Who's there? Who are you, sir?"

The apparition made no reply.

Fearing a spy, Lu had also sprung to his feet and, muscles tensed, craned his neck to squint in the direction Svein was speaking.  He saw nothing.  "What is it?” he half turned and shouted at Svein in alarm.

"Can't you see him?” Nevetsecnuac pointed, barely able to make out the figure himself now that it had retreated into the shadows.

"See what?” Lu snapped at Svein, still unable to see anything out of the ordinary.  "Your eyes must be playing tricks on you."

Puzzled, Nevetsecnuac took a bold step toward the mute ghost, but the phantasm instantly vanished into thin air.  When Nevetsecnuac halted or took a step back the figure re-emerged. Accordingly, the apparition moved back and forth, dimmed, and then appeared evasively by the fire.

"Sir, we humbly ask that you identify yourself.  Please make your wishes known to us.” Nevetsecnuac respectfully bowed to the seemingly irresolute ghost while his eyes tracked the wavering image.

Tugging at Svein's sleeve, Lu urged, "Hurry, describe him to me!  What does he look like?"

"He's tall, thin, fair of hair and dressed in a light blue robe.  Wait a minute, there's an embroidered crest on his garment. It looks like," again Nevetsecnuac’s head moved to follow the roaming spirit, "yes, like a golden sword over a coiled black serpent."

"Heavens be merciful!” Lu's face turned ashen, and tears pricked his eyes.  Frantically dropping to his knees in the direction of the apparition, in supplication he touched his forehead to the floor repeatedly and implored Lord Shonne Gulbrand to show his countenance to him also.

In accordance, Nevetsecnuac prostrated himself also before the Lord's image, expressing eternal gratitude to him.  After repeating his vow of vengeance upon Zakhertan Yozdek, tears streaming down his face, he then requested for the reason for the Lord's manifestation, promising to fulfill any of Lord Shonne Gulbrand's wishes to the best of his ability.

It was after Lu intoned the same request and bowed his head respectfully that the Lord's image became visible to him as well.

The apparition, now more defined, floated towards Nevetsecnuac, riding atop the fluorescent clouds.  His distinguished, noble presence awed Nevetsecnuac but, before he could bow once more, the specter of Shonne Gulbrand gave a respectful bow to the prince instead.  The ghost's expression, though tired and grim, was affectionate and he gave an approving nod to Nevetsecnuac as a fleeting smile grazed his lips.

 When Nevetsecnuac looked up questioningly to the Lord, he saw a single tear trickle from the apparition's eye to land wetly on Nevetsecnuac’s forehead.  Though no words were exchanged, the prince understood just then the reason for the Lord's visitation and touched his head to the floor in obeisance.  When he looked up again the figure had disappeared; Nevetsecnuac’ eyes drawn to Lu, beheld the other’s baffled and questioning gaze.

In all these years, Lu had pondered; my Lord has never graced these premises.  What would prompt this visit now?  Who is this youth before me that he merits such honor and respect from such a High Lord?  Unless...  Just then Lu's eyes widened, his face flushed a deep crimson and his jaw fell-open as he stared at Svein.  Could this be?  Is this youth the baby prince left in Lord Asger Zhon's care?

 "You!” Lu cried out with an alarm and pointed at Svein. “You!” another cry escaped his Lips, before his throat constricted and drowned any hope of further utterance.

Nevetsecnuac rushed to stop the trembling Lu from dropping to his knees and, overriding the old soldier's protests, picked him up and placed him in the chair by the bed.  The prince then prostrating, expressed his gratitude for the great sacrifices and the hardships Lu had had to endure, all for his sake.

The series of exciting events, all in the span of but a few hours, had proven too much for Lu.  Once he had been a mighty warrior, blessed with great prowess, but old age, and the ravages and angst of the past two decades had taken their toll.  This sudden shock made his head throb, then his eyes began to swim, and shortly after he lost all focus.  All his energy drained rapidly from his body, and he swooned.

 Nevetsecnuac reacted swiftly and, reaching forward, stopped Lu from sliding off of the chair. He then picked Lu up and gently placed him on the bed.

 

Assured by his still strong pulse that the old soldier was still among the living, Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully covered him with the quilt and then, picking up a cracked cup from the desk, went outside to collect some rainwater.  Returning when it was full, he wiped Lu's forehead and face with a wet rag.  Gradually the color returned to Lu's ashen, sallow cheeks and he stirred.

"What happened?” his eyes partly opening, he groaned.  Then, when his memory became more acute, he strove to rise but Nevetsecnuac’s hand restrained him.

On Nevetsecnuac's insistence, he was forced to take things in stride and, with some assistance, drained the cool rainwater from the cup.  Sometime later when he was more able, he sat up and the two spent until the small hours of the morning exchanging heartfelt sorrows, greetings, gratitude, and stories.

 It was then that Nevetsecnuac first heard of the atrocities committed in the past by Zakhertan  Yozdek before and after his usurpation of power and the existence of a (few seconds’) younger,  twin to Lord Shonne Gulbrand.

"Identical in appearance though they may have been,” Lu said, "they could not have been more different in character.  As goodness and virtue were the qualities of Lord Shonne, the opposite could quite easily have been said of his twin, born fifteen minutes later, Khronolf, who led a totally vile, debauched Life.

 Coveting the inherited title of the firstborn, Khronolf harbored great jealousy and resentment for Shonne and secretly plotted to have him murdered.  Being a weak-willed character though, he delayed carrying out his designs.

The flaws in his character grew progressively worse with each passing birthday and the worse he became the more he was shunned by his parents, relatives, peers, and any worthwhile gentlefolk.  Frustration stemming from these thwarted desires drove Khronolf ever closer to despair until he was literally consumed by his madness.  By then his cruelty knew no bounds and many unfortunates suffered at his hand.  When he finally amassed enough courage to make, albeit a bungled attempt, on Shonne's life, the plot was easily exposed and, in exasperation, he turned his sword on his hapless wife, then himself.

"His only surviving offspring, Dwenng Gulbrand, was away at the time but his heart too, after years of coaching by his father, was poisoned against Lord Shonne.  Nevertheless, after this family tragedy, Lord Shonne Gulbrand adopted the boy and raised him as his own.

Dwenng Gulbrand was provided with proper tutelage and every means of luxury, he lacked for nothing.  The ungrateful wretch concealed his true nature and hid his ill feelings towards his uncle, biding his time until he had acquired the necessary skills to murder his uncle and usurp his title.”

"Underneath the pretext of an amiable good nature, Dwenng was as vicious and cunning as any fanged viper.  Trusted by his uncle, he had accumulated, in due time, the most damaging information about the Lord."

At this point, Nevetsecnuac's thoughts strayed to Hacket Erling, who had adopted similar tactics to gain the trust of Asger and himself and whose fabrications had a strange blend of truth woven through it after all.

"Despite his pure, perfect, placid crust, Dwenng had failed to control what seemed to be a seemingly harmless vice, his lechery.”  Lu's voice was steeped in disgust.  "Always on the prowl, he delighted in corrupting then injuring chaste women by a range of devious or forceful means.  Unfortunately, these vile acts went undetected by Lord Shonne Gulbrand, who was increasingly burdened by state affairs.”

 “Zakhertan Yozdek had by then usurped the throne and, with the aid of his vast armies, had swiftly and effectively consolidated his power throughout the Empire.  Unable to reverse this sweeping tide, Lord Shonne had led an underground campaign against the usurper.  His struggle was still in its infancy when he successfully effected the escape of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and the infant Prince Nevetsecnuac, which is you, Your Grace.” Lu took another sip or two from the cup to quench his thirst, before continuing.

“Now where was I? Oh, yes. With such weighty concerns on his mind, is it any wonder that Dwenng's misdeeds escaped his attention?  Meanwhile, Dwenng's mortified victims fearing reprisals from the wretch dared not bring forth any charges before the Lord or his courts. But Dwenng's numerous conquests, over time, had fed his arrogance and he eventually grew careless.  On Spirit’s Day, not unlike this one, Dwenng happened to cast his cursed eyes on the beautiful wife, Alva, of Assistant Magistrate Birger at the Ayen Temple.  Lusting after her, the charlatan wielded the power of his position to arrange a secret admission to her home in broad daylight when Birger was away.  Of course, his intent was to molest Alva.” Lu swallowed hard and shook his head, still very much incensed.

“Surprising the good woman in her bed chamber he tried to force his attentions on Alva, daring even to threaten her when she rejected his forceful advances.  If she screamed, she would be found in a most compromising position, and he would not hesitate to ruin her reputation and tarnish her husband's good name by claiming she was once his long-standing mistress.  Dwenng would claim that her heart had only recently turned cold towards him and so she attempted to rid herself of her pesky lover by playing the part of the virtuous wife who had been terribly wronged.  As a threatening gesture, a bluff, Dwenng opened his mouth to call out to the servants and make public this fabricated declaration.” “The poor woman must have been frantic, according to hearsay; she fell to her knees, pleading with him to show mercy.  Yes, Alva pleaded with him, but it was in vain, because the wretch could not be deterred.  Most of this is part of the court records."  Lu explained, with fire in his eyes and still Livid, his teeth gnashed together in contempt.

"The villain still tried to force himself on her and, seeing no way out of it, and seeking a way to spare her husband from this great humiliation, Alva pretended to accede to his wishes, if only they could meet elsewhere in secret where they would not be found out.  The cur, with some reluctance, agreed to be patient until they could spend an entire, intimate evening together the following fortnight.  He left her side, grinning, and spent the rest of the night drinking and carousing with his cronies.

"That night Alva waited until Birger had fallen asleep, quietly kissed him, and then slipped out from under the covers.  Going to the library Alva wrote to her beloved husband a tragic farewell letter that explained the circumstances and implored him not to take any action against Dwenng.  She begged him to forget her and remarry as soon as possible to one whose beauty would never cause him such trouble.  They found the letter dotted with the stains of her tears, on the desk in the morning, her cold corpse hanging above it by a silken cord.

"Yes, in her prime Alva was cheated out of a happy life.  She was but nineteen and had died because of a lecher!  Oh, delicate flower crushed by that...” Lu bit his lip and turned his head away to hide his pained expression.  Despite his attempts of restraint however, his heart so pained him that, he loosened his clenched fist to now massage his chest.

Observing the play of emotions, Nevetsecnuac questioned Lu, "Was Alva a close relation to you?  Certainly, you knew her well."

Lu's fleeting smile only deepened the furrows on his forehead revealing his inner struggle.  After some brooding, he nodded, resolved to admit the truth.  With his voice quivering he said, "Yes, I knew her well.  She was our neighbor's daughter.  Oh, how beautiful she was, so frail yet blessed with such a luminous character."  He spoke as if in reverie, "They lived only a few houses down from us.  As children we used to play together and got along quite well. As an adolescent (teenager), she was particularly fond of horses and loved riding.  Alas, later I left for the Capital to enter the Royal Military Academy and, when my postings after graduation took me away on campaigns, we lost touch with each other. “

 “I have never forgotten her though,” Lu looked ill at ease.  Regret and pain contorted his face.  As a man of high morals, he found it hard to admit, to bare his soul to another, that he’d once secretly and deeply been in love with her, an enduring love that to date still gripped his heart.  Shame, remorse, despair, love and loneliness entangled him anew and he coughed repeatedly as if to break free of this constraint.

After a spell of brooding, he resumed his narrative, "After my military service, when I returned home to the service of Lord Gulbrand, my parents brought up the subject of my marriage.  With a joyful heart, I expressed my desire to wed Alva, only to have my hopes dashed when I was informed of her engagement to another.  It was too late.  I cursed my stupidity, my negligence and my oversight and quietly accepted the choice my parents had made for me.”

"Strange", Lu mumbled to himself," even after all this time, the memory of her loss is so painful, with the tightness gripping my chest, I can barely breathe, much less ruminate (dwell on) …."

 Then, smiling sheepishly, he turned to Nevetsecnuac and added in a stammer, "But, of course, I had loved her from afar, and later, when I wed, I learned to love my dear wife and the pain in my young heart became but a distant memory."  As if to extricate himself, Lu rattled on about how his wife had been virtuous and loving, and how much joy their lovely boy she bore him had brought to his life as he watched him grow till age four.  But Lu's forceful repudiations only helped reinforce the unrequited love he still bore deep in his heart for Birger's wife Alva, now a ghost.

A ghost, Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried. Could she be the visiting apparition earlier on?

 

(END OF SECTION 3)

 

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 2

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 2

NEVETSECNUAC AND GHOST

                                                                       

 As they walked side by side in the direction of the old, pompous establishment, Lu reflected on the stir his mere presence would beget and, envisioning the consequential mayhem, it gave him such immense satisfaction that he beamed a broad smile.

 Grinning, he shot frequent glances at Svein to observe this youth's striking good looks and honorable bearing. Now that he thought about it, Svein's features did conjure up a faint image in his memory, but he could not tell exactly who this youth reminded him of.

Turning this way and that, they finally reached the ostentatious looking place, with its gaudy decorations, where strange music wafted to the outside. Boldly leading the way, Lu mounted the stairs in quick succession and entered the establishment. He sat himself squarely at a table by the window across from Svein and called for the waiter.

Due to the lateness of the hour, as Lu had anticipated, there were no troublesome officials or constables about and so the place was only half full.

 The brazen few, being their usual obnoxious selves, were engaging all the six or eight waiters that scurried around to serve them.  The proprietor, turning away from mollifying a distinguished-looking customer in a private corner, sighted a common beggar seated across from a fine-looking gentleman, and became so incensed that he volleyed a torrent of abuse upon Lu, endeavoring to drive him away.

The disgruntled, snotty waiter that had walked away with their order, on hearing the commotion, had poked his head out of the kitchen in time to witness the return volley of curses from Lu, and the apologies from his boss as he quickly snatched the silver.

 The waiter quickly concealed his bemused smirk however when the proprietor, red faced with swollen eyes flashing fire and grumbling under his breath, burst into the kitchen to bellow an order of complimentary drinks for Lu and Svein.  Meanwhile the very presence of a beggar had so outraged some haughty customers that, one after another they rose and took their leave in a huffing hurry, sending the waiters and the proprietor into a flurry of activity and humble apologies.

This outrageous treatment of Lu so vexed Nevetsecnuac’s sense of fairness that with a long face he contemplated leaving the premises in disgust; only he did not know how best to propose this to Lu without offending him. His absentminded stare rested on the steamy soup that was just then placed before them as the first course.

"It would be the same anywhere else.” Lu shook his head, surmising what was on Svein's mind.  “Provided that is, another kitchen would be open on this particular night.”

He wrinkled his nose, nonchalantly snorted, then picked up a wooden spoon continued to noisily slurp his hot soup. 

Lu's stubbornness and courage won him, Nevetsecnuac’s admiration. With an assenting smile Nevetsecnuac joined him in sipping the soup, though he did not find it particularly tasteful.

Unperturbed by all the hidden scorn, contemptuous looks and jeers of the waiters and few remaining customers, Lu, downed numerous large cups of the house brew, which oddly enough had little effect on him, and polished off with obvious relish several plates of the restaurant's choice entrees. He then leaned back contentedly in his chair and rubbed his swollen stomach. Adopting purposeful ill manners, he belched loudly then addressed Svein at a resounding volume for all to hear, "I would like to propose that we frequent this place from now on. The service may leave much to be desired, but the food is satisfactory enough for my discriminating palate. What do you say, my young friend?"

The room was plunged instantly into deathly silence. The mortified proprietor, masking his look of dismay, looked searchingly into the eyes of the few remaining, vexed customers with a reassuring smile on his lips that seemed to say, “they will not set foot in here again. Not if I can help it!”

Nevetsecnuac, suppressing his laughter, nodded, and loudly concurred with Lu, "I would be most happy to, sir; how about tomorrow and the night after that?"

"I have no other pressing engagements next two days, so yes, I will be at your disposal.” Lu winked.

A cold shudder went up the proprietor's spine as he scurried off to hide once more in the kitchen. Shortly after, the customers heard him scolding the staff inside as he vented his anger on the hapless cook and kitchen staff.

                                                                              ~

 

When Nevetsecnuac and Lu finally left the premises in the small hours of the night only shadows inhabited the lonely street. Immediately after their departure all the lights of the establishment were quickly turned off (extinguished), all windows tightly shut and the door hastily locked and bolted.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu rounded the corner in silence, then, unable to constrain themselves any longer, burst out in roars of laughter, scaring the lone stray cat onto the rooftop.

“I thank you sir, for this joyous relief.”  Lu wiped away happy tears from the corners of his eyes, “I don’t know how long it’s been since I last laughed.” 

He then thanked Svein (Nevetsecnuac) with a certain elegance for his hospitality. As they continued their seemingly aimless stroll down the street Lu looked up and sang praises to the hazy full moon that, from time to time, peeped teasingly out from behind the dark clouds and bathed the streets in a silver glaze.  The cool breeze, in a symphony with his song, from time to time, sent swirls of dust and debris dancing into the air, choking their lungs, stuffing their noses, and reddening their eyes. Despite this, Lu continued (carried on) with his lively, gay tunes.

"You were too polite to question me during dinner, and even after.” Lu suddenly stopped singing, looked down and thoughtfully shook his head. As Nevetsecnuac searched for the right words to say, Lu now gazed intently at his face, his expression suddenly serious.

  "But this is no place to talk.” he held out a restraining hand until a solitary cloaked stranger that had suddenly appeared, just as swiftly disappeared from view.

 "I would like, however, to invite you to my humble dwelling, where we may converse at length away from any prying eyes and ears. You may not see them, but they are there. This particular neighborhood is full of busybodies."  He shouted out the last sentence, almost as a dare. When Svein (Nevetsecnuac) made a gesture of assent, Lu urged, "Then let us hasten away from here.   Around the bend, on Luckdown Street, we can be at ease. Whatever you do, avoid Royal, Temple, and Court Streets like the plague. That's where the lofty and powerful live, and of course you must shun Imperial Street where the magistrate's offices are."

He had kept up a fast pace while he imparted this council to Svein, his tone no less compassionate and sincere than that of a father addressing a son. Another gusting wind rising just then, swathed the entire region in an oppressive, pitch darkness.  Moments later a heavy downpour mercilessly drummed on their heads, sending the few stray cats and dogs scurrying for cover. Lightning flashed and thunderbolts crashed intermittently around them.

"This way, son,” Lu, with renewed vigor, hastened his steps, veering around many corners to finally lead them to the most isolated part of the town. His good humor still with him, Lu chuckled repeatedly to himself, "I needed a good wash anyway."

This most desolate part of the street was flanked by the ghostly ruins of once grand mansions. 

“Watch your step!” Lu warned; hop skipping the checkered uneven ground with the vitality of a young boy as he continued to lead the way.

Predictably stolen for use elsewhere, Svein mused, observing the unsightly gaps in cobblestones that had once paved the road but were now filled with rainwater.  

 "You won't believe it from the look of things, but these once stately homes used to belong to important dignitaries (notables, personages) and this street once thronged with luxurious carriages day and night. Over there...” he stopped, as the pelting rain cascading down over the brim of his straw hat like strings of pearls effectively concealed his pained look.

 "But the calamities of the past decade have reduced them to this state!” he resumed.

 "Yes, this neighborhood has had its share of grief which, I'm afraid, would be too long in telling. Now, even thieves dare not venture here, for fear of the were-foxes and avenging spirits said to inhabit the ruins."  Throwing his head back he let out a bitter laugh.

“As if the dead would be more terrifying than the…. Ha!”

A few steps further Lu stopped and announced with a grand gesture of his hand, "We have arrived at long last."

He swiftly climbed in twos and threes the dilapidated stone steps flanked by the badly maimed statues of guardian deities and, with some effort, pushed to open a tall gate whose blue-green paint was further peeled by the pelting rain.  The scarred stone pillar foundations, precarious brick walls, several dilapidated doors leading to phantom rooms with rotting wooden beams overhead mottled with moss and a thick layer of dust greeted them inside.

 Several Lighting flashes streaking in through wide gaps lit the hallway with a ghostly sheen. With the aid of a lamp, they made their way down the wide, empty, dark corridor as cobwebs frequently brushed against Nevetsecnuac’s face while the smells of mildew mixed with moldering earth assailed his nose.  Their footsteps sent an occasional pair of shining red eyes scurrying into the corner and the flashes of lightning sent writhing patches of carpet flowing into the wall.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu ambled to the rear of the house and descended a flight of stone steps to reach an eerie courtyard where ancient trees obscured the sky, and mist stirred the tall grass and rank vegetation. Badly corroded bronze columns lined the maze of pathways that was paved with stones of varied sizes.

Strangely enough though, the air here was laden with the fragrance of flowers, their sweet, exotic perfume conquering the musty and rank decaying matter that surrounded them. The snaking route, flanked by cassia trees, delivered them to the shores of a manufactured (man-made) lake.  Traversing a small, stone bridge they followed a zigzag path that led them through a garden of magnolia to a maze of fences which they twisted and turned, to get through.

 Holding onto a stone balustrade they mounted another flight of sandstone stairs, passed through a moon gate, and finally arrived at another set of buildings.  When Lu pushed open the door at the far end of the hall its creaking sound startled the principal inhabitant of the room; a large, male bat.  In greeting he flapped his wings and brushed their heads as he circled above them to disappear behind a wooden ceiling beam.

"He's harmless.” Lu reassured Svein (Nevetsecnuac). "I don't know why, but he prefers to share this space with me rather than mingle with his friends in the other rooms."

A cursory glance revealed to Nevetsecnuac a partially burned mahogany bed with its tattered quilt, small table, makeshift chair, camphor-wood chest and a pile of firewood in the corner.  These salvaged furnishings were all that afforded Lu any comfort here.

"It's not much, but it’s home.  Now, do not go feeling sorry for me." Lu admonished with good humor, surmising Svein's thoughts. "Its best we chuck (shed, discard) these wet things and hang them to dry, or we'll catch our death of cold."

As Nevetsecnuac made to comply, a sudden breeze, fragrant with orchid, jasmine, and musk, rushed into the room, making the flame on Lu's lamp quiver, almost extinguishing it.  Placing the lamp onto the table, Lu turned, "I hope you don't mind my frequent visitor?"

Nevetsecnuac’s response froze on his lips when he felt a silky cloth brush against him then a cold, invisible hand lightly caressed his cheek and gently stroked his hair. Checking his taut nerves, he inquired about the ghost's identity.

"I wish I knew, but she has never revealed her gracious countenance to me, nor has she favored me with a solitary word. I only feel her presence occasionally when I'm in here."

 He winked and added with a chuckle, "There's no cause for alarm, for she has not injured me thus far."

Nevetsecnuac smiled to cover his embarrassment and looked away. Suddenly his attention was caught by a scroll mounted on the far wall. Drawing near, he craned his neck and strained his eyes to read the verses, barely visible in the dim Light. Almost instantly he jerked his head back in amazement and his eyes misted. He had recognized a remarkably familiar calligraphy.

"His Lordship's words on loyalty are forever engraved on my heart and soul.” Lu proudly announced then went on to recite the verses straight from memory. "That scroll is the first and last thing I have greeted every day for the last nineteen years of my Life. It is a pity you are too young to have known the noble Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  Ah, but there is so much you don't know, so much that needs to be told."  Sighing he left Nevetsecnuac’s side to shake the quilt and then invited his guest to make himself comfortable.

Mechanically, Nevetsecnuac sat on the edge of the bed.  Oblivious to the dampness of the room which chilled him to the marrow, Nevetsecnuac lent an ear to the rain and incessant winds that moaned through the grove of tall cypresses outside. This, compounded with the plaintive shrilling of insects from their shelters inside created a lugubrious consonance that resembled the ghosts' lamentation and oppressed his soul into abysmal depths.  Hot tears welled up in his eyes as he vacantly stared at the small fire Lu had just constructed in a corner. The dancing flames recalled those of a remote cabin where a happy group had enjoyed a peaceful life.

Wrapped in mournful reflections as well, Lu pulled up the makeshift chair beside Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and sat quietly.

 "I wish I could offer you some tea, especially on a bitter night such as this.” he apologized, breaking the veil of silence between them.

"This used to be my favorite study", he said, gazing around him at the bare wood, "but all is gone now; the books, paintings, scrolls, the furnishings, even the...”  He dropped his head and lapsed into silence, loneliness gnawing at his heart despite his present companion.

Nevetsecnuac managed a few words of solace to lighten the mood.

A fleeting, polite smile brushed Lu's lips as he responded, "Please forgive me sir; you have not come all this way to be burdened with my troubles. I am obliged to you for your patience and understanding. Despite our vast age difference, you have been a receptive companion…. Still..."  Lu heaved a deep sigh; his features cast in melancholy as he knitted his brows and stared blankly into the distance. His soul in obvious torment, he fidgeted in his seat then jumped up in irritation and began pacing the room, muttering incomprehensible jargon to himself.

"How I do carry on like a madman!” shamefaced, he sat down again.  "Things have been bottled up in me for so long that...”  He looked up at Svein apologetically and, encouraged by the empathetic smile and understanding nod, he resumed. "Had I not been away at the time I, too, would have joined them and would not be here tonight, talking to you like this. Alas, everything in life is pre-ordained."  Once more he stalled, gazing vacantly at the far wall through the tears misting his eyes. "But it’s hard…And why, why did they have to perish so painfully? Why were they fated to suffer such torment?"

(END OF SECTION 2)

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- A MISSIVE FROM BOST

EPISTLE: 1

This is not a sugarcoated epic, fantasy story, though it is a fantasy, The story encompasses: imaginary beasts (dragons), supernatural entities, apparitions (ghosts, goblins, etc.), bizarre alien beings, as well, ordinary Mortals. Mostly, however, it deals with the Mortal and veiled Immortal realms and their power struggles of both economic and ruling politics.

Main story revolves around the once mighty kingdom of Wenjenkun, which presently is on the decline. With the usurper Zakhertan Yozdek at its helm, though it’s still a strong nation, it harbors many dark secrets (sins, harm, mayhem, ills) beneath those invincible and seemingly just rule of law: with rampant cruelty, deceit, multitude human adversities, oppression, rife corruption, alongside destructive, evil (malicious and immoral) elements, all culminating (climaxing), at the core (the Imperial capital).  

Consequently, there are budding seeds of rebellion throughout Wenjekun, though still in its infancy, it will nevertheless be triumphant in the end, for the force of good always wins over evil.

Meanwhile, the other Mortal realms (domains, empires, kingdoms) are also factored into the ongoing epic story; mostly neighboring hostile nations with their Machiavellian politics and encapsulated history, posing everlasting danger to the stability of Wenjenkun.

Amidst this prodigious pessimistic viewpoint which explores varied human characteristics running through the epic story of Legend of Nevetsecnuac, are the starkly (blatantly harshly) depicted malevolent harm and dreadful tragedies of ordinary citizens at the hands of debauched (ruthless) sovereigns and the ruling elite (greedy, culpable aristocrats, and base officials), as well, of artful spies, illicit institutes, indomitable assassins. Counterbalancing this, are the multitude inserts (specks) of benevolent gems, intrepid deeds of steadfast scholars (literate), romance, acts of kindness, generosity and mercy, valiant loyalty, subtle pearls of wisdom, strong faith, eternal bonds of friendship, mystery, and finally, implausible feats of heroism by the seemingly ordinary citizens with hidden virtuous.

The ethical (honorable) tenet and moral dogma (thread) delicately woven throughout Wenjenkun’s historical tapestry, hopefully, will foster the crucial fulfillment and optimism for that altruistic society (civilization, culture).

THE ASSASSINS- SECTION 17 (CONCLUSION)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE ASSASSINS- SECTION 17

Brandishing his sword as he stood in ready stance, Alec bellowed, “I am Heng Erling, the only surviving son of Marshal Gustav Erling and I have waited all my life for this day of vengeance!”

“I should have known you were (false) duplicitous right through” Nevetsecnuac fumed.

“A leopard doesn’t change its spots!”

 “Call it what you will, “Heng Erling laughed. “Brace yourself, for you shall be the first to perish at my hand, and that cursed Lord Asger isn’t going anywhere, either.  He forsook his own flesh and blood son Ivar Marrog Zhon, in place of you and, while you grew up in relative safety and comfort in that mountain cabin, his son from infancy has been languishing in a dark, foul dungeon beneath the Capital, never knowing a day without torture.”

“Hah, you think him a noble Lord, but in all these years, he never strove or mustered able men to rescue his own flesh and blood; instead, he cowered like a spineless fiend, biding his time and nourishing dreams of glorious return on your coattails, in that mountain retreat?”

“I’ve heard enough out of you. How dare you malign uncle, a noble Lord with your false, delusions; is there no end to your treachery?”  Nevetsecnuac brandishing his sword, raced towards him with the ferocity of a tiger.

All during the ensued fight Nevetsecnuac tried desperately to repute Heng Erling’s shocking revelations (disclosed facts) about Lord Asger’s forsaken son; unbidden however, certain facts too swiftly rushed to mind validating some of it, such as the seemingly benign incident in the “Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple”. Nevetsecnuac recalled all too vividly, Asger’s (Stark’s) accidental inclusion of the name “Ivar Marrog Zhon” in the list, before his quickly erasing it. And recently still, when at the stables Alec, rather Heng, had made the mention of Asger’s son, Nevetsecnuac recalled, how he was curtly stopped. Nevetsecnuac’s conscience thus troubled him as he fought two wars within and without; therefore, for a time Nevetsecnuac’s prowess had been hampered while he fended off Heng’s repetitive, fierce offensives.

Heng with his physiological warfare, thus, once or twice had almost got the upper hand and very nearly vanquished Nevetsecnuac. On one instance, Nevetsecnuac back flipped to escape the brunt of the blade that instead, cut a razor slice across his chest.  Rebounding quickly however, for Nevetsecnuac’s admiration and love for his uncle, Lord Asger was infinite; he had again picked up the momentum and very nearly bested Heng.

Equally resilient Heng withstood these offensives with his remarkable strength, skill and agility; meanwhile, encouraged by the prior result, again he strove to further disarm Nevetsecnuac.

“Some say Ivar Marrog Zhon has been kept alive, barely, as a ruse to draw the traitor from his secretive lair, but our Sovereign could not have known the heartlessness of this Lord,”

Heng spat the word Asger, as he continued with his deadly strikes.

“Some hero; he ran away in the heat of the battle, while his castle, his lands were being besieged, forsook his obligation to his father’s bloodline, for the likes of you? Answer me this, does Lord Asger hold aspirations of grandeur, thinking of the day of your being reinstated to power?  Fool, as if that would ever happen!”

“You know nothing of the truth.” Nevetsecnuac could not help but bellowed back, even though grasping Heng’s sly strategy, he had already resolved to maintain inner composure while concentrating an all-out effort at defeating this very dangerous, and cunning   adversary.

  “As for your beautiful wife, when I’m done with you both, she'll make a fine present for His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek to defile and torture.  Eunuch Egil Viggoaries can (devour) chew on the bones of your twins afterwards!"  Undeterred, Heng threw his head back in a monstrous laugh.

Despite his doggedness, Nevetsecnuac felt as though ice water had been poured all over his steaming body.  At the same time inexplicable sorrow had seeped into his heart as he, a recent dad, grasped the full implications of Lord Asger’s supreme sacrifice.

Fiery contempt for Heng flamed in Nevetsecnuac’s chest and filled his spleen with rage.  Grinding his teeth, he reviled Heng, and at lightning   speed he again powerfully struck the other.  They clashed, weapons thrusting, flailing against each other.  During this deadly exchange (skirmish) Nevetsecnuac suddenly realized that Heng had concealed his true abilities at all prior confrontations; in fact, his fighting skills were most formidable, far more formidable than Duan’s.  With the added advantages of incorporating Nevetsecnuac's fighting style alongside his, he had now become a most fierce (challenging) adversary, a virtually invincible opponent.

 Lord Asger would be disappointed in me and appalled, all with good reason. Nevetsecnuac bowed his head in shame. How could I, with all my years of training, allow myself to be so completely duped? Fueled by this added indignation and ire, with his unleashed innate (inherent) survival instincts Nevetsecnuac was instantaneously transformed into an intrepid, more indomitable warrior. 

Presently, with such ardent, livid antagonists, the earth shook (trembled) from the ferocity of their combat. Limbs of trees fractured or splintered, surrounding foliage and the like were all pulverized or destroyed, rocks, boulders were smashed to bits, split apart or uprooted, as the intense conflict ceaselessly continued.

Lasting all night, after countless rounds of pitched battle, still neither of them could gain the upper hand.  Each time Nevetsecnuac lunged at Heng his thrust was nimbly parried and each blow of Heng's was warded off with little room to spare.

Finally, Heng made an ill-timed thrust at Nevetsecnuac's heart and Nevetsecnuac, with incredible dexterity, spun around it and, twisting his opponent's sword hand, forced Heng to tumble to the ground, dropping his weapon.  Heng rolled then somersaulted to avoid the assault that followed, at the same time retrieving (grabbing) his weapon and landing back on his feet to immediately hack back at Nevetsecnuac.  Again, each attack was parried, each blow warded off, till the force and lightening   rapidity of the strikes barely managed, took its toll on Heng and at one point having lost his grip, his sword flew off his hand aching across the sky to land, rather, be buried in the midst of the nearby lake.

 Heng stood, defenseless, glaring at Nevetsecnuac.

"Ask for mercy", Nevetsecnuac shouted, "and I'll spare your life."

"I'll see you in hell, first!"  Heng swore and darted towards his horse. 

"Stop your running   and fight, you cowardly fiend!" Nevetsecnuac had raced after Heng.

Heng’s stallion spooked by this sudden charge however, had bolted and neighing wildly, nearly trampled Heng under his hooves. But not before had Heng retrieved something he’d needed from the secret compartment of the saddle.

As Heng fell back he quickly tugged the items under his waist wrap; he grumbled a curse on his breath while his eyes briefly trailed his horse galloping into the distance.

Heng swerved (veered) and looked askance at the other but knew better than to try approaching Fiery Comet; resigned to his fate, perfectly composed, he then turned to face Nevetsecnuac.

Now all this had transpired in the blinking of an eye.

 "Cowardly?  Who's the coward here? I dare you to fight without your precious sword!" Heng at this point, defiantly hollered back.

As it was, Nevetsecnuac's code of honor constrained him from striking an unarmed man.  "That suits me fine.” he tossed the sword aside and rushed to engage Heng in hand-to-hand combat.

They fought seemingly endlessly, with such force, such adroitness, the like of which was unseen in any mortal man.  Again, the surrounding area became the casualty of this intense battle. Perfectly matched, the hand-to-hand combat would have lasted forever and ever, but Heng was fast nearing his patience, and sought to bring a quick resolution to this obvious impasse.

And so, after his deadly strike, in an unexpected maneuver, Heng turned tail and fled, as he ran, he withdrew handful of tiny razor-sharp metal spikes with poisoned tips, from beneath his waist wrap, then while still running   he half turned and hurled them with lightning   speed at Nevetsecnuac.

 With incredible agility, Nevetsecnuac dodged the deadly spikes’ course, and the metal spikes continued, flew by and buried their heads in the same ancient tree that his sword had once sliced.

 “Blast!!”  Heng cursed under his breath, as he same time, taking advantage of Nevetsecnuac's momentary distraction, in lightning speed, retrieved the other concealed poisoned stiletto from his high leather boot.

First, he allowed Nevetsecnuac to catch up then, whirling, Heng swiftly (longlined it) thrust the blade into Nevetsecnuac’s chest, having held no qualms at all about killing an unarmed foe.

Failing in this, for Nevetsecnuac’s quick action hurled it from his hand and buried it into the midst of thick, thorny bush, Heng somersaulted, shot through the air and dove right into the frigid waters of the lake. He was gone from view only for a spell, emerging shortly after brandishing the blade in his hand; he landed squarely in front of Nevetsecnuac who was rushing to retrieve his discarded sword.  Unarmed Nevetsecnuac with sure proficiency fended of the deadly assault then swiftly arriving at the spot where he had discarded his sword earlier, he nimbly kicked it to waist height with his toe, grabbed it without breaking stride and turned to parry Heng's murderous slash.

Again, they fought for another twenty to thirty rounds but this time, despite his prowess, Heng, chilled to the bone, began to falter.  In contrast, Nevetsecnuac maintained his speed and agility and wielded his weapon with such consummate skill that, in the end, he cut a three-inch-deep swath under Heng's ribs.

Heng froze in mid-parry then collapsed to the ground in a swelling pool of crimson.  Blood and curses spat from Heng's lips, each breath making him writhe in agony as he muttered bitter recriminations against his own impatience, arrogance and folly in underestimating Nevetsecnuac's competence.

"If only I had waited for the reinforcements and been content letting the axman take your head.  I've failed miserably.  My life's ambition has been frustrated."  Hot tears mixed with the blood on Heng's cheeks.

"My doomed father, forgive me.  I've condemned you to an eternity of torment, wearing the chains of ignominy, in the underworld!  My beloved ill-fated mother, Lingrace, forgive me, oh how I have failed you both!”

 Heng swallowed hard, thinking the rest.

Oh mother, you forsook your virtue and bore such shame during all those years you suffered the lustful, lecherous pawing of Zakhertan Yozdek.  You debased yourself as attendant at his wife's feet, just so I could live and avenge my father's death. Please mother, don’t curse me forever; find it in your heart to forgive, to absolve me of my failings for I’ve done my best, always have; unfortunately, the fiendish foes are backed by powerful demons. With Heaven forsaking the good, I was doomed to fail.

This was the only version Heng had desperately clanged to, always believing in his heart of hearts that his supposed angelic, saintly mother had been forced into that compromising situation, in order that her son's life was spared and also that the scant hope was kept alive, the prospect and the sole aspiration of avenging her husband’s untimely, ignominious death! 

Ensuing years of her coercion Zakhertan  Yozdek had been, by degrees, spared from any and all blame; instead, intense hatred and animosity had been fueled and then deferred to that vilified Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and Prince Nevetsecnuac.

 In blind faith Heng envisioned his mother, to his dying breath, as a self-sacrificing, tragic, victimized and molested heroine, rather than the deceitful, conniving and ambitious woman that she was. 

How could Heng face the ugly truth and keep intact his sanity?  How could his tormented mind surmise, the underlying, contemptible sole reason, that he had been spared for the horrific, sickeningly gruesome demises of his elder siblings, all because his mother had, long before the usurpation, covertly had intimate liaison with Zakhertan  Yozdek. And that suspicion, the question of Heng's paternity, was what had excluded him from the executioner’s block (gallows) or fate worse than death.

 How could Heng have guessed at the root of deceit that ran so deep in his mother that, on this day, when he was sacrificing his own life not to avenge his father's death, but rather to further her underhanded, selfish desire to ingratiate herself back into Zakhertan's good graces.  And that was the sole reason she had hired covertly this assassin Duan and constrained him to take her son Heng along for the ride.

 In the meantime, despite the treachery, contempt and duplicity all that had passed between them, Nevetsecnuac, had felt certain compassion for this dying man, curled up in excruciating pain on the ground. And so, he leaned over to ask, “Can I do anything to ease your pain?"

"You can rot in hell; whelp!"  Heng's face contorted in pain at the effort it took to curse.

"I suppose there is no rebellion either,” Nevetsecnuac grumbled as he looked away, understanding the full scope of his deception.

"Haa, ha, haak!," blood welling up in Heng's throat cut short his sarcastic laugh.

 He spat it out at Nevetsecnuac and gritted his teeth in contempt. 

“That’s right, fool.  There are no rebels, no battles. The Generals lead an army of the dead.  Ha, ha, ugghh!" 

Pain again cut short his laughter as he uttered his last words with regret, “Pity that I should be the one to die, not you.  Heaven is not just."

Nevetsecnuac looked away to hide his surging emotions because he had been dealt with a crushing blow.  The lack of rebellion was not the cause of his turmoil, his deep dismay; however, rather, it was the knowledge of Lord Asger’s forsaken son.  So much had happened during these last few months. With those entire facts in a streamline racing through his mind, he plumped his seat down listlessly beside the lifeless body of Heng.

A great deal of reality had altered. He was not the person he thought he was, neither was his uncle. He’d grown up with, albeit necessary deception. As the past life in quick succession once more flashed before his mind’s eye, it resolved all that mystery he’d grown up with; so much more made sense now.

In one fell swoop many of his life’s queries had been answered.  But worst of it was the knowledge, how his beloved uncle, Lord Asger had sacrificed and endured such hardships and pain all on his behalf.

He shuddered at the thought of another innocent being, sacrificed and forsaken, worst still, imprisoned at infancy, forced to endure such torment, all because of him.

Lord Asger Marrog Zhon had sent Nevetsecnuac on, albeit with some reserve, hoping against hope that there would be some truth to Heng’s claims.  Looking at his bloodied sword, Nevetsecnuac recollected the entirety of his oath to self and Lord Asger; so, he sat, eyes cast on the ground, staring aimlessly in silent, pained concentration. 

He’d sworn the oath not to return without exacting vengeance, on behalf of all those living or perished souls. Heng’s treachery aside, Nevetsecnuac could not dismiss the fact that, Lord Asger’s son to date languished in some dark dreary dungeon.

 With lowered head, Nevetsecnuac ground his teeth and clenched his fist as he seethed.

  If he were to return, Asger would never let him go on this perilous rescue mission.

Teuquob and his bellowed children, their dependence on him could sway his determination. But how could he last another day, knowingly perpetuating this unethical, immoral feat (act)?  Lord Asger had sacrificed so much… Least he could do, is try, try to rectify this grave injustice and reunite him with his flesh and blood son!

Suddenly he knew the action he must take to make all these wrongs right. He could only estimate the scope of difficulty, the unforeseen challenges of his chosen (decided) course, but same time he knew it was the only honorable thing to do.

Springing to his feet, he threw both arms into the air and let out an earth-shaking roar

“Heaven bear witness to my new vow (pledge), whatever the cost; I shall exact vengeance on the Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek for all the wrongdoings he’s committed and, reunite Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon with his son Ivar Marrog Zhon.”

Nevetsecnuac afterwards (next) with meticulous care buried Heng Erling’s corpse under some rocks, poured libation (offering the entirety of wine which Heng had kept in animal skin vessel/container, and used it sparingly, since the time he’d accompanied Duan) over his grave and said some prayers for his soul.       

 At that moment in time, the first light of day broke; Nevetsecnuac’s eyes beheld a phantasm dragon suddenly manifest in the crimson sky, which it then quickly sailed on by amidst red clouds, till it dissipated.  

Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully nodded, then unable to stand still a moment longer he, vaulting into Fiery Comet's saddle, galloped the steed in the direction of the morning sun.

(THE END OF SECTION 17 – THE CONCLUSION OF THE ASSASSIONS)