THE DRAGON LONGZE AND THE LOST DAUGHTER BERDIS - PART 1

(ORIGINAL STORY BY BOST 2025)

Part 1

A long time ago a mighty hunter called Alec, and his family lived in a modest dwelling alongside the lake near the base of the lofty mountain called DROGA. His only daughter, named Berdis (meaning spirit protection), was a beautiful girl with golden blond hair and blue eyes who from the earliest age seemed sensitive, thoughtful, and highly imaginative. Being rather introverted, she unfortunately, passed most of her time in solitude, and preferring nature and the company of plants, birds and animals to that of humans.

When Berdis was still very young, at night her mother Elin, on Berdis’s urgings, for plain old bedtime stories would never do, always lulled her to sleep with fantastic yarns, or thrilling verbal accounts of old legends passed down through generations. Berdis’s favorite fables always revolved around the mysterious tales that transpired in the forbidden zone known as the unhallowed (desecrated) ground, whom she’d been warned repeatedly, to never go near; and so, in her young years being a sweet obedient child, she’d obeyed, totally shunning that vicinity… A dense forested region, a narrow strip of land which spanned from mid elevation of the mountain down to the sandy shore of the lake. Mortals always fear what they do not understand. Anyhow, trespassers, she was told, without fail would fall under the spell of mystical, hazardous elves, minions (gofers, underlings) of evil spirits, wolf pyxies or fox dryads that dwelt in that unholy region.   Furthermore, tree and wild plant fairies lusted after naïve souls (hence, stole, collected them), as they consistently frolicked in mischievous, mesmerizing revelry; but worst of all, was the mighty, fierce Dragon that lived in a deep cave close to the summit (zenith) of the mountain.  According to old legends, some warriors had dared to enter the mouth of the cave, only to be instantly incinerated by the Dragon’s fiery breath; and since no one came back to recant (disavow, deny) or attest to its truth, this hearsay (and belief) had propagated (promulgated) intense fear and dread since time immemorial.

So fearful were the common folks of that desecrated region   that, whenever they came to close proximity, they always left behind an offering or a token to appease any ill will and ward off malevolence from the supernatural entities.

When Berdis got little older, being sensible but also curious and an idealist (dreamer), doubted the validity of such beliefs; and so, she’d stealthily visited this forbidden segment, yet despite the numerous times she’d trespassed into that area, she had never once experienced (encountered) any threat or adversity. Far from it, everything seemed to instead, welcome her and always made her feel as though she belonged.  Guarding this secret well, meanwhile, she often went missing longer and longer periods, basking, savouring her time in that forbidden zone, exploring in depth every nook and cranny, cluster of trees, bushes or flowers. Young as she was, she appreciated beauty and untamed nature and would sometimes gather strange, wildflowers and plants and upon her safe return, presented these delightful gleanings to her parents along with intriguing, ambiguous (obstruse) accounts of all her adventures that had transpired in her rambles.

Although her parents harbored some suspicion about her trekked venues (sites, places, spots), they were unwilling to prohibit her dubious escapades. She’d always been very gentle and delicate in temperament and nature; therefore, they could not openly articulate their opposition for fear of making her sick; and since she always returned in safety, her furtive visits to this enchanting place had persisted till she grew up in years to her early teens.

Each passing day, gradually growing more adventurous Berdis, ultimately sought the furthest remotest parts of the prohibited area, even ascending to the grater elevations of mountain.  This particular day, as she pensively trudged (trekked) through the barely feasible narrow strip, delving deeper into another unknown section of the region, she had suddenly recollected that old ballad which had alluded to an invisible trail that would rarely and mysteriously manifest for the chosen one, leading her/him eventually to the deep cavern where a fierce Dragon dwelled. She heaved a deep sigh and shook her head, knowing she was not that special, therefore, that would not happen to her.

Just then however, as if in answer, in the periphery of her vision, she noted the suddenly manifested trajectory (route, track) off to the side, inviting her to traverse it.  She placed her hand over her heart to steady her bursting excitement, meanwhile, her feet as though pulled by an irresistible draw, had already delved into the thick foliage and, after many hours of ascending the narrow goat’s path and then subsequently clearing the last obstacle of a  thorny, dense bushes that had obligingly parted to allow her passage, she’d delightedly (chanced upon) encountered an enormous gaping mouth of the huge cavern (grotto).

There was and irresistible pull for her to enter; inexplicably however, she desisted the urge (temptation), and instead, sat in lonely reverie there upon some high promontory of rock near the entrance of the deep cavern (grotto). Positioned amid all the leafy haunts of forest pines but quite close to the cliff’s edge, her eyes next trailed the snaking, downward track which led to the narrow strip of shoreline of the pristine lake.  Despite the distance, her acute hearing just then picked up the harmonious, melodious ripples of the waves lapping against the open shore. Of course, when she returned home just before dusk, this venture was too, added to the pages of her cherished private memory.

She had covertly returned to the mouth of the cave many more times (since) after that day, since the path always manifested, as if a welcome draw (lure, incentive) and, always allowed her a safe passage effortlessly through. Meanwhile, in all that time it had been the mighty Dragon (wielding his innate willpower), who had (checked) prevented her from entering the cave, for had she done so, he would have been (and not by choice,) forced to incinerate her (turn her into ash) with his fiery breath. As testament to this fact, there were vestiges (remnants) of charred bone fragments in several large heaps of ashes positioned only few steps withing the mouth of the cave.

Oh, but she never minded sitting in her favorite spot with her face turned upwards, gazing at the sky and observing the clouds that sailed on by. Sometimes she offhandedly (calmly) noted the smooth flight patterns of the eagles circling the sky; other times she slightly turned her head to gaze with keen eyesight at the languid, shimmering ripples on the lake’s surface far below. Oftentimes, with the gentle breeze caressing her cheeks, her thoughts would linger in lengthy contemplation, as though in communion with the spirit of an unknown force cold and distant, yet curious and fair.

Gradually this ethereal (otherworldly, enigmatic) force thawed, as at the same time elusive, yet almost sympathetic, arcane vernacular encroached (impinged, intruded) her mind. She embraced this with certain fascination, her heart alternately soothed or pulsated, by these most engaging stanzas, ancient limericks and thrilling chronicles, those he chose to share. Emboldened, she at times sought its divine guidance and solace, wanting to lighten her soul and alleviate the melancholy that seemed of late to grip her heart.

Then came the day which she affirmed her innate intuition, that she was indeed all that time, had been conversing with the Dragon that inhabited the cave; moreover, she now learned of his name: Longzi.

Once, when her father Alec remained afar on the hunt later than usual, and it was feared that he could be overwhelmed by a tempest, or encountered some misfortune, Berdis had surreptitiously, in her room lit a candle, knelt on the side of her bed and, palms held together in supplication,  called onto her Dragon friend Longze in prayer for his help, knowing despite his confinement in the cave, he could still direct (order)  the nature’s elements, as well, engage his minions and  spirits’ help to speed her father’s safe return. He had not disappointed her.

 By then, her initial inhibition had given way to genuine fondness of this noble, wise Dragon, whom she lately called, a dear old friend; furthermore, all during the long snowy winter, where it had been inadvisable for anyone to venture out into wilderness, she secretly yearned to go see him, disregarding the portended (expected) dangers. Strangely enough, it was Longze that each time discouraged her from this foolish aim, asking her to be patient a little while longer instead, when her trek would be safer during the more moderate temperatures, and later still, he promised to be with her (he did not say how,) when she reached the age of consent, which in her mountain village, was sixteen.

To alleviate her persistent concerns, he often kept in touch with her during her sleep, but always in vernacular (language, dialect, lingo) and never in an image (appearance, likeness). Perhaps he did not wish to frighten her.

Progressively, as their souls touched (feeling and thinking same), they had become little more than good friends and eventually he’d allowed himself to implicitly trust and feel unwavering affection (love) for this mortal girl. Though he had never outwardly professed (declared) it, in his heart and soul, he had already chosen her to be his eternal love.

On her subsequent visit which the warmer temperatures had allowed it, Longze imparted to her via scant details, gently as he could, the reasons for his execrable confinement. He had done this (as he’d been forbidden to do) with guarded, wary and indirect words, using references to enigmatic lyrics, cagy verses, tender dirges (laments). She had learned then, through insinuation and guesswork, the gist of his harrowing sentence, years of sorrowful plight (ordeal, torment), which came about because he had once pitied the offender, had failed to punish (destroy) and so, breached (violated) the ironclad Heavenly Law. For his disobedience, he’d been imprisoned in that cave, chained to the wall, for over three thousand years.

 As Berdis had listened to the voice in her head, her heart was so wrenched that, she’d shed quiet tears in deep sympathy of his endured pain. He loved her all the more for this, though next he did his best to lighten her mood. There was another concern, a secret that had long prayed on his mind, but this one he chose not to divulge, as the outcome pended on an unforeseen circumstance; instead, he communicated to her that, fortuitously, his sentence was nearing an end, about the time when she reaches the age of consent (16 years old), choosing to steer (guide) her thoughts in the direction of hope.  

A week later, again stealing away to the mouth of the cave and while reclining pensively against the young pine-tree, she’d fancied that she had heard Longze’s voice sweetly addressing her. At first it had been scarcely more than a sigh, but gradually it had grown more pronounced: 

"Sweet maiden,” said the melodious whisper. “Pray think of me not just a Dragon; but as one who is fond to be with thee; I, with my tall and scaly strength, with my bright fire red eyes, a nodding star high up in the night’s sky, one that every evening sparkles above thee. Thou art having captured my heart, Berdis; before you retire to bed, (and succumb to sleep), walk to the window and cast your gaze up to the sky, to heavens and be at peace. Fly from men who are false and cruel, and quit the tumult of their dusty strife and instead embrace this quiet, gentle regard (honour, affection). Rest over thy head on my chest, and I will carry you up to the stars. I will breathe a perfume like that of flowers over thy happy evening rest. I'll waft thee o'er the waters of the sky-blue lake. I will deck the folds of thy mantle with the sun's last rays. Come in spirit, as often as you desire, and we’ll soar over the mountain free, riding the gentle (clouds) winds, together in the land of the stars."

These riveting, enchanting words were drunk in with an eager ear by Berdis, and in time the tiny buds of love in her heart transformed into full blossoms, her mind made up she’d sworn thence, to forsake all other. Returning to the spot time after time, she’d listen with intent to hear more akin declarations of love, but the voice thereafter had become only an inaudible murmur and then, it had ceased altogether. Though alarmed, in her heart the hope persisted and flourished with a sure conviction that on her sixteenth birthday, whatever tribulation that beset (affected, plagued) him, it would be satisfactorily resolved.

In the meantime, now that she was in her mid-teens (15 years old), she’d grown into an exquisite beauty, and many young men in the village was secretly smitten with her.  Springtime, being sign for renewal, they sought to win her attention, akin bees drawn to an exquisite flower for pollination. She paid no heed to any of them however and continued to secretly frequent the fairy grounds at greater length; then on her return, became even more introverted. Disenchanted by all the mundane, trivial, hollow mortal pursuits, Berdis would oftentimes sit vacantly (indifferently) when she was cajoled (coaxed) into partaking with the many springtime festive occasions, celebrations and communal events; sometimes, she even feebly made the effort to join, just to appease her parents, though her heart was never in it. Increasingly detesting these irksome obligations, she walked among her people with detached air, her heart suffused in melancholy, as though she was a passing spirit not belonging to that world anymore.

In fact, gradually with the passing of each day her secret communions with the phantom Dragon had so intensified that it had captivated her heart entirely.  Meanwhile, her growing strange detachment from the accepted norm now alarmed her parents who began suspecting that some evil spirit had enticed her into its clutches and had cast upon her a charm which she had not the power to resist.

In private conversations late one night before going to bed, her father and mother had even considered those amassed marriage proposals that had been subtly offered but carefully put aside (for future consideration); an acceptance of one, could provide the means to ground Berdis in reality and rescue her from her furtive (secret), dire, obsession.

Among the considered suitors was a handsome, but rather conceited young man, three years older than Berdis, called Tamuz; and being the only son of an affluent merchant, he never lacked for anything. With such a propitious marriage, she would be well provided for. What Alec and Elin did not know however, during one of the spring festive events, Temuz had brazenly approached her, so sure he was of his charms, inviting her to be his partner for the finale (climax) group dance; however, the unthinkable had happened when she had flatly rejected him, choosing to partner instead, with the timid young man called Kenny, that stood beside him.

From that moment on, with his vindictive nature unleashed, she had been marked for conquest, to be subdued and tormented by his hand, under the banner of matrimony, in months to come. As his parents had patiently awaited the response to the recent marriage proposal put forth to Alec, Temuz meanwhile, taking matters into his own hands, had stealthily engaged his bond servant to discreetly monitor Berdis’s comings and goings, looking for key opportunity to sully her reputation, hence to succinctly, even earlier, achieve his diabolical aim.  

He did not have to wait for long, when one day at crack of down, Berdis was seen secretly leaving her home and heading into the woods. Informed thus, Temuz, was soon in hot pursuit.  Quickly overcoming his innate fear, Temuz, had unseen followed Berdis into the depths of the forbidden zone and subsequently, concealed by a huge trunk, he had overheard Berdis, quietly seated at a rock, by the side of the Cavern’s opening, murmuring to some phantom companion, her entreaties (appeals) just then: “Oh, my dear, dear friend!” Berdis had whispered, her heart palpitating with intense emotion for gradually, though she’d never laid eyes on him, Dragon Longze’s gentle, wise, noble ways had captivated her heart and made her fall deeply in love with him. “Dear, sweet and gentle master of the skies and the foaming lake do not forsake me now, but visit thou my nightly pillow once more, shedding over its silver dreams of mountain brook and pebbly rivulets. Spirit of the starry night; lead my footprints to the blushing, burning passionflower that shines with a carmine hue. Why have you been silent these last few months, speak to me, I entreat you,” she’d pleaded, looking away from the beautiful young pines which lightly swayed their green leafy limbs over her head and gently brushing her face, to cast her passionate gaze at the entrance of the cave. “I am here my love. Embrace me, your Berdis, with thy powerful mind, liken to the ones spring unfolds from its sweetest flowers, or hearts that to each other show their inmost adoration. Soon, my dear, when your chains are no more, we shall be together, never to part.”

“Ahahh!!! I caught you now, you wanton (lustful) harlot! How long have you been having these immoral rendezvous?” Temuz stepped forward from his hiding place, threateningly shaking his fist. “To think we all believed you were so pure, so pious!  Hah!”  With his ugly, hateful visage, he advanced menacingly towards her, to grab her arm and drag her back, so as to denounce her publicly in the centre of the village.  

End of Part 1

                                                                                        ~

 

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 19

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 19

As predicted, it did not take very long before the unconscious scholar stirred.  Stifling a cough, Yagu sat erect, waiting with bated breath for the young man (Nevetsecnuac) to open his eyes.

The Scholar’s (Nevetsecnuac's) lips moved, but no sound ushered forth.  His eyes cracked open then, suddenly recalling his last moments (memories), he sat bolt upright.

"Take it easy, son." a friendly voice stopped him from jumping off of the bed.  "You might have had a concussion after that fall."

Fortunately, Nevetsecnuac having just then regained his focus, turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw the old farmer whom he instantly recognized.  "How is it that you came to be here, sir?" He asked respectfully despite his surprise.  Then, feeling a gripping pain in the back of his head, he raised his hand absentmindedly to touch it; there was a big lump there, that correspondingly stained his fingers with a crimson hue.

Yagu Dorka, hummed and hemmed, as he arranged his thoughts and the consistent facts that would tally (correspond, parallel) with the yarn he was about to weave (knit, plait); but even before Yagu responded, Svein (Nevetsecnuac) had already grasped the situation and the reason why he had been spared, from an otherwise, certain doom.

Nevetsecnuac now discretely observed how Yagu’s difficult life had etched a few more lines on his face already scored with wrinkles. Despite his apparent ailment however, which anew threw the old man into another violent fit of coughing, he was still a hardy peasant and, not easily sapped of his strength.

Eventually, when Yagu's coughing subsided, “So, it is you! I thought as much." his eyes smarting, the old man forced a smile to his quivering lips and nodded.

 “Heaven be praised! Sir, you gave us such a scare when you fainted."  He pounded at his chest to relieve the congestion.

"Fainted? No.", Svein's voice was incredulous. “I was drugged,” he wanted to say more, but he stilled his tongue, for fear of further aggravating Yagu’s condition.

"Yes, yes, you're right, of course. You passed out, but it was not done on purpose, you know."  Yagu groped for words, then grimaced slightly, leaning back to explain in a sincere tone.  "You see, at my advanced age, I'm always beset with ailments of one kind or another.  I won't bore you with lengthy explanations of them all.  Only that, well, one of my medications, it was my fault, really for leaving it on the kitchen counter after I'd used it, and wouldn't you know it?  It was mistakenly, when I was absent, it was used by Kenny, my cousin’s, the Innkeeper’s youngest son, when he made your tea.  You see, the ingredients of this prescription bear an uncanny resemblance to the tea leaves we use, and the pots are of the same sort.  It's understandable that he could make that mistake.  I'm so very sorry."

Yagu spread his hands comically.

Likely story: you must think of me as a fool.  Nevetsecnuac was peeved; still not letting on, with outward calm equanimity, he listened on to the absurd (bizarre) explanation.

 "Any way, it’s one of its medicinal properties that it puts me to sleep."  Stifling a cough, he shook his head, "Yes, that stupid boy gave you my medicine by mistake but don't worry, it won't harm you none.  Not a big boy like you.  Or should I say "man" now?" 

Yagu started to chuckle, partly due to his attempt at humor, partly in relief, as he saw that Svein raised no objections to his fabrication.

 "You are married by now, are you not?"  He paused to note Svein's nod.  "You must tell me all about it later.  After all we've shared, we're practically kinsmen, are we not?"

 Yagu smiled sheepishly while taking such liberties.

 "I'm afraid all I've gotten is older, although I've picked up a little learning, thanks to my educated cousin here….”

"Well, anyway, you should have seen the commotion when you fainted, passed out, rather.  You gave us such a scare," Yagu slapped his knee jovially, "that is, until we found out what had happened to you.  I came in just as you passed out, you see."

Nevetsecnuac (Svein), now that the danger had passed, was both amused and entertained by Yagu's description of the supposed antics of the innkeeper's family.  He knew it was all invented, but Yagu had the individual's characteristics all in place, and embellished it with such detail, thinking, no doubt, that he was covering all angles.

"And if you're wondering how, it is you revived so quickly, well, that's easily enough explained," Yagu concluded, "we gave you another medicine, one I use to keep me on my toes.  You see, I tire so easily and there's so much to be done around here.  Yes sir, it did the trick and brought you around in a jiffy.  Luckily you had not drunk so much tea to begin with and you're such a healthy young man.  Well, I mustn't disturb you any longer.", slapping his knee, Yagu rose to go just as a tray of food was brought in by the grinning Aguda, who parroted the same story as the old man, even using the same turns of phrase Yagu had used except for the minor difference of substituting the word 'wine' for 'tea'.

"We'll talk at length tomorrow."  Yagu tugged at Aguda's sleeve, steering him towards the door to cut short his prattling.  "Yes, yes, and we'll introduce you to everyone tomorrow too, especially my grandson Lerty, he’s such a good boy and you are his benefactor, he must thank you personally! We both owe you so much.” Yagu affectionately smiled at Svein.

“Yes, you’ll meet him tomorrow, because it’s too late now.” Yagu continued. “And besides, you should eat before your meal gets cold, and rest.  But don't hesitate to call out if you need anything else, son.  My room is right next to yours."  He pushed (shoved) his cousin Aguda the innkeeper outside and closed the door after them.

"What's the matter with you?"  Once outside, the old man wiped the beads of perspiration off of his forehead and looked scornfully at Aguda.  "You know, you really talk too much!  You nearly spoiled everything.  Didn't you eavesdrop on what I was telling him?"  Grumbling, he kept up the reproach as he led the way to the kitchen.

"I spoil everything.  You're completely without fault, I suppose?" Aguda gestured sarcastically then, closing the kitchen door to sneer spitefully.

"What?  What did I do that was so wrong?" Yagu jumped back down the other's throat with his questioning gaze.

Aguda glared back, resisting the urge to bellow, "How come you couldn't think of a better excuse than that one you gave?  You gave me dreadful fear back there."

"And what was wrong with it?  He bought it, didn't he?  I thought I was rather clever cooking up such a convincing story."

"Clever, perhaps," Aguda laughed coldly, "except that he drank no tea."

"NO TEA?"

"Shh!!!  Quiet!  You want him to hear you?" Aguda warned hotly.

"Then what was the teapot doing there on the table?" Yagu demanded angrily in a quieter voice.  "I know you're too cheap to spoil the wine or the food."

"Well, for your information, we'd spiked all three.  And no, he partook of no tea; it was too coarse for his liking."  Aguda snorted, wrinkling his nose.  "It was half a cup of wine, if that? But for certain, it was the spiked vittles that did the job."

"No tea?  No tea!  Yet he...  augh, Gods preserve me!" Yagu clutched at his chest, stymied, totally missing Aguda's ugly grimace.

 "Oh, I feel so ashamed!" he meekly ejected, looking to his cousin for some sympathy, some understanding.  "He knew all along that I was lying, yet..."

"Yet he allowed you to maintain your dignity." Aguda nodded coldly.  "Such finesse!"

"Such manners too, don't forget.  He's a most remarkable young man, isn't he?"  Yagu’s sigh rumbled in his chest like thunder.

 "Oh, how I wish I'd had a son like him.  That boy will go far."  Again, he began to cough.  "You know, your boys can learn a lot from him."

"And what's wrong with my boys?" Aguda's eyes blazed with anger as he retorted hotly.

"Nothing…  No need to get so huffy about it.  I merely suggested that they take some lessons from this young man.", Yagu was cowed.  "You said yourself; he has such finesse.  Respect, isn't that what you meant by it?"

I said 'finesse', you fool! Aguda swore inwardly yet nodded his head in concurrence.  It's pointless to argue intelligently with this ignoramus.

"Yes, your boys do show respect to you, but not much to anyone else, certainly not to their stepmother Fiona."  Yagu threw a quick pitying glance at Aguda's young wife, toiling quietly in the corner then busied himself with the preparation of his own nightly potion.

Aguda's stern eyes scrutinized his wife briefly as a sinister, ugly smile played fleetingly across his face.  Deciding not to make an issue of it, he snorted and returned his attention back to Yagu. 

"It's your own fault if they show no respect to you, old buzzard. Aguda jumped in, not giving the other a chance to speak. “For, in all cases you must earn their respect first.” 

“All right, whatever you say...” Yagu was tired of constantly fighting Aguda, and as usual, let things slide.

 “Well then, so long as you see the error of your ways, “Aguda having won this round as well, softened. “Though now, I think I'd better go and lock up." Gloating in self-satisfaction, Aguda jumped to his feet. 

"You're going to be all right with that?" he asked his wife rhetorically as he headed out the door.

"Yes, yes, you go on ahead." she answered automatically.  "I'll secure the back door after I'm done here and dumped the..."  She saw he was gone.

"You'd better go to bed, too, sweet child." Yagu said to Fiona kindly, once Aguda was absent.  "It'll wait until tomorrow."

"I've kept your supper warm, Uncle," the young woman assented, "shall I dish it out for you now?"

"No, no, dear.  You just go on ahead.  You must be exhausted, toiling all day without rest.  I'll serve myself."

When she'd left Yagu prepared himself a platter, careful to add an extra helping for his grandson, in case the poor boy had, once again, missed his dinner.

 

                                                                                     ~

After proper introductions at dawn of the following day, Svein informed Yagu of his wish to depart at mid-morning, even though the downpour had not ceased.  Of course, his host would not hear of it and, gaining reinforcement from the innkeeper and his brood, prevailed upon Svein all morning to delay his departure for at least a day or two.  The false, forced sincerity, however, made Svein long all the more to escape this den-of-deceit.

After having readied his luggage, he breakfasted in the large dining hall.  Yagu was still pestering him not to go when Kenny, the youngest boy, burst in, dripping wet to announce that he'd spotted another traveler headed in their direction.

Elatedly just then Aguda let it slip to Svein, how good fortune had smiled on them thrice this week that, this was their third customer in as many days, a rare occurrence indeed.  Seated across the table from Svein, Yagu sat with a lowered head, (chewing his lip and) hiding the serious concern that had suddenly registered on his pupils.

Presently Svein witnessed first-hand the stir, the commotion from within the inn as they prepared to welcome yet another potential (prey) customer.

Sometime later, Aguda, having seen every detail, beaming from ear to ear took up his position by the door and waited anxiously, all the while wringing his sweaty hands.

 As soon as the traveler made his appearance at the door, Aguda greeted him with the same, patented felicitations that Svein had received earlier on; but when, after the sweeping bow which Aguda typically used to accompany his congenial inquiry of the stranger's name- the larger than life,  fierce newcomer, had instead, fastening (pinning) his cold, disdainful eyes on the innkeeper had simply snorted:

"You may address me as 'Sir'."

Nevetsecnuac could not shake the sudden, foreboding feeling that their puny lives were no more than a mere annoyance to this superior being; as at same moment a deadly, oppressive shadow had instantly engulfed the entire premise, chilling everyone within, to the marrow.  This was no ordinary traveler; there was something potent, something so very lethal about him.

The red-faced Aguda, mumbling nonsense, looked about him, as if seeking a hole to crawl into, only to see the amused Yagu turning his face to the wall as the old man stifled a chuckle.

From his odd attire the stranger could be any number of things: a warrior ranger, a military guard, perhaps an advanced scout, or a lone messenger.  He was formidable enough, his large, framed body towered well over six feet in height and his fiery red hair and grizzled beard framed a pair of ice-cold blue gray eyes.

Shoving aside the glib tongued Aguda, who was intent on ushering him to a seat, he strode boldly over to a table of his own choosing by the rear window and squarely sat himself down. 

As he placed his impressive sword down on the table, he looked across his shoulder at Svein.  Their eyes briefly met.  He grimaced coldly, gave a brief nod of greeting then turned his gaze ahead once more.  He then withdrew a pouch, obviously full of cash, and laid it on the table beside the sword's scabbard.  In a non-nonsense manner, he demanded wine at once and some meat for breakfast.

Aguda hurried Kenny off to the kitchen to start his wife cooking the meat, then attempted, as he had so many times before, to impose himself on his guest.  Unlike other times, the innkeeper was severely rebuked and had to make a hasty retreat to the kitchen after his son.

“Greed makes people courageous, they say.”  Yagu succumbed to additional chuckles.

Aguda emerged shortly with a small jug of wine, not unlike the one Svein had been served, and all in smiles, approached the stranger once more.

"What is this, you dolt?" the stranger thundered.  "Are you hard of hearing or just stupid?

 I asked for a flagon."  With a sudden sweep of his hand, he almost knocked the wine and Aguda with it, to the ground.

 Aguda, with incredible agility, righted himself, managing to spill only a bit of it on his dark clothing.

"It was I who ordered the jug." Svein loudly interposed.  "Please bring it here."

"Oh, yours is coming, sir." Aguda forced a smile to his quivering lips.

 "This is but a complimentary draught for this gentleman while my son fetches his flagon.

"Don't insult our guest!" Yagu felt he must intercede and rushed over to grab the jug from Aguda's hand just before he was about to pour it into the stranger's cup.  He made a pretense of sniffing it. "This is too coarse…our apologies, sir."

 Turning to Aguda he glared, "This is only fit for us, not for such fine gentlemen as our guests.  I'll take it away."

The son then made a timely appearance on the scene with the flagon.  Seeing the seal was unbroken, Yagu relaxed and let the boy pass.  I don't know why I'd worried.  That tightwad would never taint that much wine.

Svein (Nevetsecnuac) disdainfully observed the exchange of looks between the two men, as Aguda held the kitchen door for Yagu.  Nevetsecnuac surmised how; once they were hidden from view, both would be locked in a heated row, with Yagu again obstinately opposing Aguda's diabolical attempt to claim yet another victim.  It was apparent that even his substantial gift to Yagu earlier had not alleviated Aguda's greed enough to deter him from more (acts of) murders.

Meanwhile, the stranger, indifferently, or perhaps unaware of the peril he was in, downed one cup after another in succession, his eyes fixed steadily outside the window.  Only when the flagon was emptied, he angrily pounded the table and howled like a wolf for more.  At once another flagon and the hot meal were rushed to him to calm him down before he brought the whole inn down around him.

Svein delayed his departure, captivated by this most intriguing stranger and, never doubting his prowess, wishing to see how he would deal with this danger.  Naturally Aguda could do little to affect his fiendish plan (scheme) and so, after the safe departure of the stranger, Nevetsecnuac bid his farewells and resumed his lonely trek towards the Capital.

Once more, deliberately choosing the remote, cross-country routes, he relentlessly, for old habits die hard, pushed onwards, taxing the steed's strength to cover great distances. This time, however, an odd sensation of being tracked persistently gnawed at him; yet, each time he looked around, taking the pains to avidly survey his surroundings, he detected nothing (zilch, nil, zero,) out of the ordinary to warrant extra caution.

                                                                                         ~

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION - 18

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 18

01- YAGU DORKA

"How long is it going to take you to sharpen that Axe and machete, boy?  Hurry up, Yaggy, we haven't got all day." he urged the second son. Aguda was about to instruct Kenny to undress (disrobe, unclothe) the victim, when the excited barking noise of the caged canines(dogs) alerted him to his cousin’s early arrival.

“Blast; he’s back already?”  Too late, Aguda heard his cousin Yagu’s advancing unsteady footsteps.

 Where is everybody? The old man with curses on his lips, clung tightly onto the railing for security and, hauled his tired old body up as he, same time negotiated the soggy stone steps of the porch.

Aguda, having dropped his booty in the corner, had quickly rushed outside the kitchen door, passed through the hallway and now strove to block the old man's way with a barrage of questions.

"Yagu, what a fine time it is too, you finally got back!  You’ve been gone for so long that we were worried sick to death, thinking that something terrible might have happened to you on the way.  Next time you don't go alone, you'll take Zog with you.  Well, what did the doctor say?  Is your condition serious or not? How was the trip?"

"As if you care!" the old man interrupted Aguda's patter with a restraining hand gesture.  "Never mind about me, but you sure look guilty. And wipe that grin off your face and answer me quickly, what are you up to now?  I bet you, is it something sinister, disgusting or decidedly evil? “

Seeing the other’s hesitation, Yagu angrily snapped. “Don’t try denying it; I've already seen the horse in the stable."  Yagu shook an angry, accusatory finger before the innkeeper's face then pushed him aside to enter the kitchen.

 "And what's this, your latest victim?"  He intended to say more but his rage caught in his throat, and he collapsed into a violent fit of coughing.

"Now look at the state you've brought upon yourself!"  Aguda, showing concern, rushed to his side and helped him into a chair.  He slapped Yagu on the back several times, hard, to loosen the phlegm in his cousin's lungs.  After turning to address his son Kenny, “Stop what you’re about to do!” Aguda ordered him, “And go fetch Yagu a hot cup of tea at once.” 

Gradually, Yagu's purple coloring faded as his coughing fit subsided.

Outside, a kid's voice was heard; pleading to be allowed to join his grandpa in the kitchen but this was soon cut short by shout, “he doesn’t need you to bother him now,” and the sound of a hand smartly striking his cheek.  The sniffling youngster was then forcefully dragged away by the teenage boy Kenny who, despite his usual tepid (apathetic, indifferent) nature, was a cauldron of evil, an actual brute in his own right. 

The old man Yagu wished he had the strength to intervene, but abuse of this sort was all too common in this household.

Aguda snatched the steeping (infusing) hot teapot from Kenny’s hand and poured part of the infusion (tea) into Yagu’s cup to distract him from his grandson’s plight. 

"Here you go, have a bit more; it will warm you up.  You've given me terrible fright just now; you know you mustn't get so excited (worked-up) in your condition."  Seeing the old man had calmed a bit, he coaxed, "Look how you're still dripping wet.  Why don't you go change into some dry clothes and forget everything else.  I'll take care of things here."

His face growing red once more, the old man's temper flared anew.  Rasping in his dry, harsh voice, he pounded the table with his trembling hand and cursed, "You are going to get us all damned to Hell!  You want me to turn a blind eye to the murder of one of our guests; and this foul murder committed just under my very own roof? “Yagu shook his head and then somberly added: “Robbing them is one thing but butchering them in that hideous manner is inhuman!  I absolutely refuse to condone it!"  Again, he coughed, and drew in a long, shuddering breath.

"Call it what you will." Aguda (already feeling a tinge of guilt) lost his temper; highly incensed at this reprimand, he then snarled: “You know very well that we must do this to be safe.  What makes you so high and mighty?”

But then regretting his outburst, in a gentler voice he reasoned. “Dear cousin, buying this cursed inn was your idea to begin with; I wanted to open up a wine shop in town but, no, you wanted a roof over our heads.  You wouldn't hear of it.  Still, it was a fine idea while the customers were steady."

Yagu’s stern expression had not altered in the least. Angered anew, Aguda sat down with a disgruntled huff and pounded the table with his fist.  "Things have changed now, so get used to it."

Aguda ground his teeth, then after a moment’s silence again warned as he, same time shook an irate finger at the old man.  "When things started to go bad, and I wanted to pack up and start a new business elsewhere you wouldn't hear of it.  Your procrastination has cost us what little money we could have gotten from the sale of the Dancing Bear.  Now it’s too late.  Yet we still have to pay taxes and extortion money to those vultures to keep them from feeding on our carcasses.  You know those bastards only care about lining their pockets.  What do they care about if we are barely able to carve out our subsistence?  The first time we fail to produce the money they'll beat us to a pulp and haul us all off, you and your precious grandson included, to debtor’s jail where we'll assuredly meet a miserable end.”

"So, I ask you, what would you have me do?  Well?"  The innkeeper paused just long enough to give emphasis, but not enough for Yagu to respond. 

"Robbing them is one thing, you say, but if we don't dispose of the corpse completely, would we not run an even greater risk of being discovered?  Do you know what the penalty for robbing unsuspecting customers is?  I'll tell you, it’s the same as committing murder. In jail, once under duress they have extracted your confession and promptly pronounced you guilty, without the benefit of trial, you’ll be beaten to death. The executioner would then cut off your head and post it on spike (spear) at the city gate, as a warning to others. And your headless corpse, well, I don’t need to remind you what happens to that."

Seeing the old man cringe and give an involuntary shudder, “That's right." Aguda reasserted.  "Remember, cousin, I once used to be a clerk at the Magistrate's Office before my unjust dismissal.  I know what goes on in those dark cells.”

“Oh, you can be certain I make no exaggerations here.  Far worse, far more appalling crimes against human dignity are practiced there on a daily basis than we could ever have committed here.  So don't talk to me about law or humanity, as far as I am concerned there is only one law, one rule for me and my family to follow, the law of survival.  I must do all I can to subsist, even if it means vending (selling) my soul to the demons, to do it.  So, don't think that you can deter my aim, with your sanctimonious air or nagging!”

"I toiled so hard; all those years of tough grind, all those years of hard work; where did it ever get me or you?  You're still pining away for your lost son.  Well, I've got three living ones and a wife here to think of.  Shall I leave them all to starve, or be tortured?

No… Absolutely not!   I'll be damned if I give them up without a fight!”

“And what about your precious grandson; are you willing to sacrifice him so easily to accommodate your principles?  You know that nothing will grow on this wretched, barren soil, and that we're too strapped now to move out. So don’t go on being so censorious! Besides, what makes you think it’s any different out there?  Maybe it’s worse."  Aguda, having had his say, at the end of this long tirade, rather smugly now, leaned back and wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead.

"You could talk around the devil himself!" Yagu snapped back, having got his second wind and now that his cousin had finally stopped his rant.

 His stern eyes scrutinized Aguda, then, stricken with sudden remorse, Yagu hung his head, and he softened. His next remark lacked fire.  "Yes.", he acquiesced, for he could no longer dispute the other's arguments.

 Though his conscience had greatly pained (hurt) him, had he not always, as he had now, given in to their inexorable predicament?

Yagu’s head hung lower in deep shame, for even though he did not engage in the brutal act, turning a blind eye to it, time and again, did it not make him an accessory (accomplice) to Aguda’s crimes?   Yagu shared just as much guilt.  And besides, when the matter of their survival hung in the balance, overriding any question of morality, what right did he have to exonerate himself and load all the blame on his cousin, marking him, shamelessly, in front of his sons as the sole villain when the end result benefited all of them?

Coughing violently, Yagu rose and drew near to the table, bending over to have a better look at the latest victim, meaning, perhaps, to silently beg this stranger's forgiveness.  His eyes examined the scholar’s features, pausing (his gaze) at length on the face.

Odd, he looks strangely familiar? Hmmm…. Yagu mused, cupping his chin in his hand.

“I feel as though I've seen him somewhere before, but perhaps with a short beard …”

“Oh, Heaven’ forgive me! Can he be… is he that most remarkable youth, of four years ago?”  Suddenly his eyes bulged and astonished, his mouth dropped open.

Still, he needed to be certain; so, he drew his face ever closer and burrowed his scrutinizing eyes (stare) on Nevetsecnuac.

 But how could that be?  He shrugged his shoulders, bit the corner of his lower lip and stamped his feet in vexation.

Yaggy, meanwhile, having just then finished honing the hatchet’s blade, excitedly brought the shiny cleaver (axe) over to his father.  He stood most eager to begin the carnage (butchery).

Aguda signaled his son to wait.  "Listen, cousin," he then approached Yagu, suspecting that the old man was still wavering, "you know it’s got to be done, so why don't you leave us, since you can't stomach the sight.  Rid yourself of those pesky wet clothes and lie down to rest, before you make your ailment worse.  I'll have Kenny to bring you some more hot tea."

"But I think I know this young man!" Disregarding Aguda's words, Yagu turning, looked up with a flushed face to exclaim excitedly.

 He held up a restraining hand to freeze Aguda's query or retort.  "Just give me a moment longer will you, just to make sure."

"Surely you aren't telling me that you, a peasant, know a rich scholar?" Aguda mocked Yagu, then frowning, shook a finger at the old man.  "If this is another one of your stalling tactics, I warn you..."

The old man was totally absorbed with Nevetsecnuac.  "Oh, by the Gods!"  Suddenly he uttered a cry as he jerked back, his hand now clasped to his mouth.

 "Yes, no doubt about it.  It’s him!  It’s definitely him!"  Yagu’s complexion turned ashen (ghostly pale) as the realization of what had almost happened dawned on (occurred to) him; horror gripped his heart, and the words congealed in his throat.

 "What is it, cousin?" Aguda clasped the old man on the shoulder, truly concerned.

"What's wrong with you...? What is it that ails you?”

“Answer me first, his name… what was the name he gave to you?”

“I don’t know… You expect me to remember his name? What difference does it make?

"You don't understand!" Yagu clutched at Aguda's collar, jerking him forward, almost choking him with an unusual strength.

 "This…. This is the very young person who, four years ago, delivered me and my grandson from those bandits.  It's with his money that we bought this place, fool!  He’s the one who……” His explanation was interrupted with another spell of violent coughing.  As he habitually massaged the pain in his chest, great beads of sweat (appeared) burst out on his forehead.

"I'm dam sure, most assuredly, it’s him!  He's the one who avenged my son Ake's death, restored my grandson Lerty to me, and gave me the funds to buy this inn." Yagu hoarsely reiterated; then rubbed his burning throat to bring some relief.

 "Haven't I always had a good memory for faces?  Once I hear him speak, I'll be more certain."

"So, this isn't definite after all?" Aguda caught the slip.

“Tell me, try to remember… Was his name … Svein, Svein…. something?"

“Come to think of it, it might have been…… But still, how can you be so positive it’s the very youth? You’d mentioned that your benefactor was a skilled fighter but said nothing about him being a scholar?" Aguda demanded with skepticism, not liking the idea of releasing prey already in his snare.

Yagu’s coughing subsided; the old man looked up to burrow his resentful gaze into Aguda's eyes and sternly dictate, "Read my lips. Killing this young man is now totally out of question, not until I've made certain, at least, that it isn't him. Do I make myself clear?  I may be guilty of many things, but I will not go to my grave, accused of ingratitude.  If I'm wrong, you can drug him again later.  Now, quick, get me the antidote!"

"This is insane!  Think of what you're asking me to do, cousin." Aguda stamped his foot.  "Why should I, on your mere suspicion, spare his life then waste more of the precious poison on him?  If we revived him and, he turned out not to be your savior, what then?  You may be willing to let this chance slip away, but I'm not.  Besides, you can see how formidable he looks, even when he's unconscious.  When he comes to, won't he know we've drugged him?  Won't he ask questions, that is, if he doesn't beat us to death first without waiting for any explanation?  Why should I place us all in jeopardy on a mere chance that this was your young man?"

"Listen to papa, Uncle." the three boys broke their silence in unison to give support to their father.

"If he is the young man I met, he would not harm us." Yagu was adamant. 

"I'd stake my life on it.  You're not going to change my mind one bit," he threw a fierce look at the boys, "even with this army of support.  You may all think me unreasonable but, on this, I will stick to my principles.  Besides, we could always talk our way out of it, what's so hard about that?  Leave the explanations to me.”

"Now, give me the antidote at once, before it’s too late!" he barked, his demand.

"And don't try to deceive me and say that it’s already too late, I can tell from his coloring that he can still be saved!” With those words he also put a quick end to Aguda’s poised counter arguments.

Seeing that it was pointless to deter his cousin, Aguda grumbled under his breath,

 "I suppose we could add poison to his meal later on."  Handing the keys of the victim’s room to Yagu, Aguda then rushed off to retrieve the antidote himself.

 Yagu, wasting no time, quickly took charge and had the two older boys Zog and Yaggy carry the still unconscious scholar (Nevetsecnuac) back to his room while the younger boy Kenny went to fetch the scholar’s possessions, that of which Aguda had just dropped in the hall.  The unconscious scholar was then gently placed on the bed.

Zog, the strongest boy, pried open Nevetsecnuac’s mouth just a crack to allow Yagu, who had just received the antidote from Aguda, to pour a generous portion of it down the scholar’s throat.

"Not so much!  A little works just as well, you know."  The infuriated Aguda spent his rage by slapping Zog hard on head, then returned to the kitchen, swiping at the youngest as he passed by.

"Now scarper (get lost, beat it); both of you clear out of here!"  Yagu taking charge, ordered Yaggy and Zog with a wave of his hand.  "He'll be coming around soon.  Close the door behind you; and Zog, do tell your father to keep it quiet out there!" Yagu yelled out specifically so that Aguda could hear, before he leaned back on the chair panting from all that exertion.

                                                                                        

(END OF SECTION 18)