LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 10

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 10

Nevetsecnuac rising to his feet, under the sparse light of the moon extended his search this way and that to determine the angle, width and depth of the pit; he subsequently, tested the stability (soundness) of the encircling walls as his palms and fingers carefully pushed or prodded for that anticipated (planned) future climb. In the end the outcome of his findings (investigation) had proven bit disheartening.  It would be nearly impossible, a most daunting task, to scale the precarious walls without any outside help.  The structure was a marvel of engineering, designed such that it deterred any means of escape.  Even if these unfortunate victims had, with incredible agility, been able to stack up vertically, without the right versatility the acrobatics would have been sill rendered fruitless, if not, hastened them to their death.

The question now remained whether Nevetsecnuac could succeed alone (single-handed) where, jointly all these trapped wretches, had failed.

01- NEVETSECNUAC ANALYSING THE PIT

“It would be a challenging feat;” Nevetsecnuac pensively looked up at the sporadically visible moon at the night’s sky, as the coy moon intermittently peeked out from the clouds: “but certainly not impossible.” He with a sly grin, tapped (rapped) his chin, having already conceived (concocted) a plausible plan.

 Subsequently, getting right to work, he first cleared the ground of any dangerous debris and, utilizing the available means setting the stage for his astute engineering feats that would generate constructive outcome, he next proceeded with the unnerving and relentless climb.  Even then he slid back few times, losing some ground (of the ascent) when the walls of the structure had abruptly collapsed or unexpectedly caved in.  Nevertheless, undeterred by these setbacks, he’d eventually succeeded in reaching the midway point, though the worst traps were yet to come.  Precariously clinging to the protruding rocks, with his free hand he dug up the exposed tips of hardy roots that had overtime, fortunately, had extended (grown) thus far; taking hold of these for anchorage, he nimbly (dexterously) overstepped the sharp cutting edges imbedded in the next layer then, agilely hauled his body upwards towards the seemingly unreachable mouth of the pit.

When he finally emerged outside, thankful that the moon had just then taken refuge behind some dark clouds, he squatted and regulated his breathing.

His thoughts, however, unwarranted, steered to the trapped victims within the terrible pit.

Who were they, to be so brutally imprisoned in an open grave, that they also warranted such elaborate traps? Why hadn't they been simply killed, then disposed of in shallower pits, holes, or crevices, likewise others, with much less trouble?

 What circumstance necessitated their slow, spiteful deaths? And what of those remnants; the shattered beams, the broken pieces of earthenware that at one time must have held provisions, the corroded pewter jug.

“Now, there's the real culprit!  “Nevetsecnuac sullenly (morosely) shook his head.

The exposed evidence, all too clearly, had shown that it had once contained a certain, tainted wine. There were some unmistakable traces of its permanent, unmistakable odor left on the inner rim.

Nevetsecnuac knew all too well, that this was the worst kind of deadly insect's poison, one that paralyzes the intended victims and, causes a prolonged, weeks, sometimes months of, lingering, excruciatingly painful death.

“Since the effects are not immediate and do not manifest themselves until sometime later, it must mean that some vital information, or something of equal importance, had to be extracted from the prisoners.  They were fed false hope before the final treachery came to light.”  As he absentmindedly reflected, his hand checked for the key.  Relieved to see that he had not lost it in the climb, he grimaced wryly, “Perhaps, one day, it will prove instrumental in unraveling this mystery for me but, for the time being, I best deal with this more pressing matter.”

Wishing to examine at first hand the point of the road that was being so closely guarded, a point he would be forced to traverse before long, Nevetsecnuac stealthily advanced towards the sentries.

“Hmm, it’s an ideal spot for an ambush.”  Nevetsecnuac, after scrutiny, thoughtfully nodded. For not only did the monitored road lie perfectly sandwiched between two hills, (it cut through uncompromising cliffs,) but also, strategically balanced rocks on their crests could, in an instant, be dislodged to trap any prey, leaving no option for retreat or advance.  In the worst-case scenario, the intended target could be annihilated altogether by the properly timed avalanche.

“He…” Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried, recalling Deizvor ' reference to the one they awaited.

“All this is deemed necessary to trap but one man. Fradel Rurik Korvald, Me? …Surely not. Perhaps it’s some well-guarded, despised official.”  Though he knew better.

Suddenly, another equally poignant question intruded into his mind. “But who’s behind all this… Whose command are they following?” 

His curiosity piqued, Nevetsecnuac sought to learn more and so hazarded to eavesdrop on the sentries.

02- GUARDS- SENTRIES

 Unfortunately, their idle chatter led to nothing specific or useful.  Since it would be imprudent to confront them now, Nevetsecnuac turned his attention instead in the direction of the just then manifest thin coil of smoke. His eyes trailing it, before it was promptly extinguished, at once caught a furtive (stealthy) movement at the mouth of a yawning cave, well tucked in the crevice of the next rising hill. “Splendid, “Nevetsecnuac retreated, edging away from the sentries to further reconnaissance.

Following a beeline, he crept swiftly but stealthily towards the dark cave, his eyes straining to catch the subtlest movement, his keen ears registering the minutest of sounds.  As the incessant, howling winds drove the laden clouds away to the east, the Earth was illuminated periodically again by the teasing, silver rays of the full moon. Taking special care with cover at such times, Nevetsecnuac eventually halted in-close-proximity to the cave's mouth; he squatted and then pressed his ear to the ground.  From the reverberations he speculated that more than a dozen horses and well-armed men were stationed within.  The cave was undoubtedly large enough to hold them all, along with a running underground stream.

“What would necessitate such force?” With a puzzled expression, he inwardly queried.  Intuitively feeling its importance to him, however, his pulse quickened with excitement and in anticipation of resolving (unravelling) this new, intriguing enigma.

By now the wind had spent its fury and, as the last leg of twirling debris settled lazily about, Nevetsecnuac gazed up at the dark canopy speckled with brilliant, twinkling stars hosting the moon. He eyed the heavily armed, formidable-looking sentry, well concealed, virulently guarding the entrance of the cave, and then deliberated on his next, viable course of action. Before Nevetsecnuac could act on it, however, two officious looking men suddenly emerged from the cave.  Crawling nearer still, Nevetsecnuac looked about sharply and perked up his ears to eavesdrop.

The bearded one, who was addressed as 'Commander', had just dispensed his brief instructions to the guards when, noting that the sky had cleared and the wind had tapered down to a pleasant breeze, turned to the officer at his side and proposed, "Would you like to accompany me on a bit of a walk for some fresh air, Lieutenant?"

"I'm at your disposal, sir." the other immediately responded.

Nevetsecnuac, who could not have asked for a better opportunity, turned his attention away from the sly grinning guards and trailed (tailed) the two officers as they strolled to a distant scenic spot. 

The Commander and his chief officer, confident they had reached beyond the guards' hearing range, finding a suitable spot, comfortably seated themselves on a huge, smooth boulder.  They were soon engrossed in a serious whispered conversation. 

03- COMMANDER ZHADOL AND HIS LIEUTENANT YENNIC

Quite undetected, Nevetsecnuac crept quietly to the nearest cover then, scaling an ancient tree, perched himself on a high branch that loomed within earshot.  He strained his ears to overhear the subject of their sudden heated exchange.

"Sir," the stout Lieutenant adamantly addressed the bearded Commander, "how reliable is this sorcerer Dwengzur, anyhow?  Has he never erred in his predictions?  I fear His Excellency may be making a fatal error in trusting him.  I mean, what we really know of him, other than that he's a native of that cursed country Korion."

“Again, Korion…” Nevetsecnuac's attention was piqued.

 Narrowing his eyes, he mused, “That's Zonar Kuntzu's Country; most curious indeed!”  However, feeling that it was too premature to speculate, he again lent an ear to the Lieutenant.

"I've met others from that State he claims to be from, but they are nothing at all like him.”

“He doesn't even speak with the same dialect. Moreover, until five months ago, he was virtually unknown to us.  Foreigner that he is, how could he so quickly, so effectively have penetrated essential layers of security and, despite his ungainly presence, have wormed his way into Her Ladyship's good graces?  It’s baffling, to say the least, how he's been elevated to such a position of trust that, ostensibly, he's even won the tolerance of His Royal Highness."

"As I understand it," the Commander spoke slowly and thoughtfully, "he gained his audience through Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren's Office."

"So, that's it!  He's another one of his recruits, then.  I should have suspected as much!"  The Lieutenant gritted his teeth.

Then, with puzzlement on his face, the Lieutenant looked up and asked, "How is it then, His Excellency (Eunuch) Egil Viggoaries, still trusts him and, puts so much credence in all those preposterous predictions of his?"

"You don't understand."  The Commander grimaced.

 "Things are never what they seem.  Though he has gained the patronage of the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and still more, his trust, in fact” Tensing up, he abruptly broke off, but his hesitation lasted but a moment.

 When he (turned) reverted his soft gaze back to his Lieutenant, he had already resolved his dilemma and was determined to confide this latest bit of privileged information to the other.

All the same, he could not resist teasing, "I may be breaching serious security protocol by telling you this but, after all we've been to each other, and I think I can trust you."

"You offend me greatly, sir, with your doubt!"  The cool retort spoke volumes.

Since the Lieutenant's voice had dropped, the rest of what he said was inaudible to Nevetsecnuac, but it did have an impact on the Commander, none the less.

Enough, in fact, to cause the older man to relent, "It wasn't meant to be” Turning, the Commander affectionately clapped his Lieutenant on the shoulder.

 "Come on now, Yennic.  Would I be here if I did not trust you implicitly?  Would I have even broached the subject if I didn't intend on telling you the rest?  How often have I confided in you in the past?  You already know most, if not all, what I've already been told in confidence.  You shouldn't take it like that; you have no cause to.  I just wanted to, maybe for the benefit of us all, stress the importance of confidentiality.  This knowledge was revealed only to the twelve of us in his coterie.  Should it come to light prematurely it will prove most disastrous, to say the least, and undermine all our efforts.  Don't think that our deaths will be swift afterwards, either.  I hope I've made myself perfectly clear, for it’s imperative that you don't breathe a word of it to anyone, not even to your immediate family, or even to the other members of your clique.  Can I have your word on this?"

Though Lieutenant Yennic was thoroughly piqued at the Commander for his gentle insistence, he knew that he could extract more by subtle means so, staying his malicious, cynical brash response and instead nodded with understanding and promised in a sincere tone, "Yes, Zhadol.  My lips, as always, are sealed.  Now, what is this great secret of yours?"

Though Nevetsecnuac seriously doubted Yennic's outward sincerity, Commander Zhadol, without a qualm, leaned forward at once to disclose the secret.

Before he had the chance to speak, however, Yennic interceded wryly, "Are you now going to tell me that Dwengzur, contrary to all appearances, is, in fact, a loyal vassal of His Excellency Egil Viggoaries and owes his foremost loyalty to him, and not the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren.”

“Furthermore, that the sorcerer is inveigling himself into Lamont Gudaren’s good graces, as ordered, and shamming subservience in order to strengthen Egil Viggoaries’s hand?"

"That's it in a nutshell." the Commander concurred bluntly, masking his annoyance.

"I wonder just how much it cost His Excellency to buy out his so-called loyal services." Yennic sneered.

"You're wrong there." Zhadol grimaced.  "His kind can never be bought.  They have no use for money or any other worldly goods that would impinge on their unfettered lives.  No, something else binds him to Egil Viggoaries.  As I understand it, he owes his life to His Excellency and something else too, something even more important.  Unfortunately, even I am left in the dark about this."

 When the Lieutenant cast a doubtful glance at him, Commander Zhadol reasserted, "I swear, I don't know but, since he interests you so, let me tell you more about this sorcerer."  Winking at Yennic, he continued, "Now Dwengzur is notably different from other sorcerers because, as I have been briefed, he belongs to an ancient, nomadic, tribal race that dwells in the remotest, most mountainous regions of Korion, shunning all contact with civilization.  It has been said that historical persecution has caused them to adopt this way of life.  Therefore, it’s my contention that he is a renegade, but why should we speculate … Anyhow, this race is both feared and revered by the Korionese.  Why?"  He paused for dramatic effect and to augment Yennic's curiosity. 

04- DWENGZU'S RACE IN KORION

"It’s because each one is endowed with special, supernatural powers.  They are born clairvoyant and raised collectively.  They are roundly educated in astrology, geomancy and, from an early age, are taught the ancient, secret spells and incantations by the designated elders of the tribe.  These ruling elderly Chiefs (that make up the core council) are reported to have extended their lives to least, seven hundred years.  The tribe's average life span, you see, is believed to exceed four hundred years.  This prized information is passed from generation to generation by word of mouth since nothing is recorded in writing on the off chance that it will fall into outsider's hands and be misused, with disastrous consequences.

"By the age of eight they possess many extraordinary abilities and can perform mind boggling tricks and are accredited with the innate ability to affect weather patterns.  They have never been known to suffer from any human ailments.  Individuality is frowned on by the tribe and they are not allowed to keep any personal artifacts.

“They are taught to consider themselves part of the collective unit and, when they refer to themselves, it is always in the plural; 'we would like to', 'that pleases us' and so forth.  Oh, and this should interest you, they never marry.  It is not an accepted institution with them, as the women and men are also considered as property of the group.  They fornicate once every thirty years in an elaborate public ceremony, never twice to the same mate and never within their kinship group solely for the reason of perpetuating themselves."

"You make him sound like an Immortal." Yennic scoffed contemptuously.  "And just who perpetuated this hearsay, Dwengzur?"

"At first I shared your skepticism," Zhadol smiled condescendingly then shook his head, "but no longer, not after what I'd witnessed during our secret gathering.  After a remarkable demonstration of his powers, we became converts, one and all.

"For instance, when Dwengzur asked to be decapitated, Egil Viggoaries obliged with pleasure.  Then afterwards, the headless body rose from the ground, walked right over to where the severed head had fallen, picked it up and aligned it perfectly back on the neck.  The wound fused right in front of our astonished eyes, and, within seconds, he became whole again; a living, breathing man.  No ordinary man, obviously."

The hair on the nape of Nevetsecnuac's neck rose when he heard this, and he felt an unmistakable knot in his stomach.  “Was it pure coincidence?”  He closed his eyes for a moment to dispel all illogical thoughts.

"It’s a common hypnotic trick, nothing more."

"It was no illusion, I tell you."  The Commander irately insisted, standing his ground, but his voice lacked total conviction.  Looking past Yennic, he shook his head to quickly purge the seeds of doubt that had been planted in his mind. “Sorcerer’s subsequent trick was equally amazing. This time he, after having received the slight nod (permission) from Egil Viggoaries, simply wielded his sword in lightning speed and claimed the head of the recruit Torrez, who just happened to be innocently standing by at close proximity to Dwengzur.

05- SORCERER DWENGZUR

Holding it up high for everyone to see, he then faced the head and charged him with duplicity and a minor fraction, probably a fabricated one; but it was nevertheless enough to seal his fate. The head though reluctantly, responded as if living, breathing thing and confessed to everything. Afterwards, he simply blew a fiery breath at the face, and the decapitated head was instantly reduced to ash.”

"A talking head…? Surely you were all mesmerized." Nevetsecnuac heard Yennic, just then, sneering with arrogant cynicism.

 "Yet, according to you, he bends submissively to His Excellency's will.  Why should he if he possesses such powers?  I ask you, what greater intimidation is there than death?  Why not admit that you were all duped by his masterful trickery?" Yennic unrelentingly goaded the Commander.  Yennic hoped that, if he got him all fired up, Zhadol would get careless.

"Yes, he does bend to Egil Viggoaries's will, for I've seen it.  I'd attest to the truth of that."  Commander Zhadol responded, irritated, his face flushed red and his eyes wide with anger.  He was unwittingly playing right into Lieutenant's hand.  His voice increased slightly in intensity as he added, "And furthermore, he responds without a qualm."

“Like you.” Nevetsecnuac, perched on the tree branch, musing grimaced.

"I confess that aspect has baffled me also.  What's more Dwengzur's obedience stems clearly out of fear.  I wonder what hold Egil Viggoaries has on him. “

 

(END OF SECTION 10)

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

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

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

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

01- NEVETSECNUAC

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

02 THE SENTRY - JONATH AND DEIZVOR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

03- NEVETS IN THE DARK PIT

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

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

                                                                                       ~

 

(END OF SECTION 9)

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO CAPITAL - SECTION 8

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 8

The ghosts stirred, and many took flights into the distance or into the air, as high as they were permitted to go. But before Nevetsecnuac could accost one of the fleeing ghosts the ground split open with a terrifying noise and a horde of horrendous trolls streamed out of the fiery crevice.  Cracking their whips to disperse the unfortunate ghosts who failed to clear the way fast enough, the ugly trolls, cursing and spitting, carved out an open, direct path to Nevetsecnuac.  In their wake there emerged from the chasm, where red hot flames now shot up on high, two most grotesque, most hideous Demon Guards, half human, half beast, with barbed tails between their legs, lolling tongues, jagged, razor-sharp talons, saw-like teeth and blazing, glittering eyes (orbs) set in leathery, blue faces framed by horns and frizzled, raven black hair.

Standing fifteen feet tall, they were truly more fearsome, more gruesome, and more nightmarish than anything Nevetsecnuac had ever seen or imagined.

The terrified ghosts, clustered at a safe distance, sobbed loudly and cringed apprehensively, knowing what awaited him.

Gnashing their rows of teeth, hissing and spitting, the Demon Guards swaggered menacingly towards Nevetsecnuac.  One unlucky young ghost who had failed to clear the way, paralyzed as he was in fear, drew the unwarranted attention of the lead Demon; finding this ready gift irresistible, he halted his advance long enough to reach out with his razor-sharp talons towards the unfortunate spirit.

01- YOUNG GHOST PARALYZED WITH FEAR

Demon’s talons subsequently entered the ghost’s chest cavity and ripped out the prized delicacy, the heart, which he ate in one gulp then licked his chops.  Both demon guards next were about to tear into the remaining flesh to consume the lungs and liver, when Nevetsecnuac, outraged, shouted at them (Demon Guards) in indignation, drawing their attention to him, hoping to spare the poor victim from further torment (anguish).

The other spirits, knowing what they knew, had recoiled in terror, while the braver ones with their hearts palpitating, eventually finding their voices, despite their shuddering, whimpered thoughtful warnings to Nevetsecnuac, but it was too late.

One of the Demons, pinning his fiery gaze on Nevetsecnuac, shot two iridescent red beams from his pupils and paralyzed Nevetsecnuac where he stood; it was implicit (understood) that his turn would come soon enough. Rendered helpless and unable to close his eyelids, meanwhile, Nevetsecnuac witnessed the unfortunate ghost being torn limb from limb then devoured ravenously by the two Demons.  The trolls standing by, looked on hungrily but not daring to intercede and claim even a miniscule share, hoped instead for a (forgotten) scant morsel to be left behind.  However, to their disappointment, the two demons even fought over the entrails, and then settled leisurely to crunch the bones until nothing at all was left of the poor ghost.  Then, belching jarringly (dissonantly), the Demon Guards rancorously advanced upon Nevetsecnuac.

"You're to come with us.  You have a lot to answer for." The leader growled then, with one of his talons (like a hook) piercing the top of Nevetsecnuac's skull, he led the way as he dragged Nevetsecnuac down into the hellish fires.  The agonizing pain Nevetsecnuac suffered as he was hauled away was so intense that he fought to maintain his consciousness (awareness, cognizance).

Down in the depths of the netherworld (Hell), in that surreal topography (landscape) the glowing fires raged everywhere. 

02 -NETHERWORLD

The stony, wabbly path they were on led across a bridge which was flanked on both sides by an abysmal plummet, that intermittently cocooned chambers of horror from which emanated ghastly, heart-rending screams and wails.

 Nevetsecnuac was thankful he could not see the imagined atrocities; nevertheless, their anguished cries grated on his ears as the stench of burning flesh assailed his nose. Subsequently, these unfortunate ghosts, rather what remained of them, were thence (thereafter) ravenously devoured by the rowdy groups of demons seated at long tables. An adjacent chamber revealed a still more ghastly, terrifying sight; there a giant beastly head, its huge mouth filled with row upon row of molars, was being fed human souls by other Demon Guards.  The beast with no body was grinding up the unfortunate souls between his teeth like a millstone.

 Nevetsecnuac flanked by the two Demons, enduring (experiencing) violent vertigo, was dragged across a suspended tall bridge, constructed over a fast-flowing river of blood. Dark crimson and foamy swirling whirlpools periodically revealed giant vipers that were devouring the cart loads of ghosts (ones who’d ended their life prematurely via suicide,) now being steadily dumped into the flow from the banks.  In their frenzy feeding these snakes churned the water so high that the bridge overhead perpetually (swayed) shook unsteadily. 

03- SNAKES FEEDING

The piranha infested bluish ponds came into view next; here the waters boiled as the swarms of flesh-eating fish in their feeding frenzy instantly stripped off all there was of those guilty of gluttony, avarice, spite and malevolence. Unceremoniously dumped into the churning, lighting-streaked waters, where all flesh disappeared right away down to the skeletal bones.

More horrific still was the Hill of Blades beside it, penalty reserved for the worst of humanity, including mass murderers.  Their minced (diced) pieces of flesh were quickly picked clean by the scavenging vultures that hovered noisily overhead.

Eventually Nevetsecnuac and his captors passed through a pair of pronged bronze gates guarded by two fearsome Bull Demons and entered a dark, elongated hall dotted with part-beast, part human, demons, resembling tigers, wolves and hyenas lying or sitting, panting, their tongues lolling, licking their chops.  The high walls, even the ceiling were made entirely of human skulls and bones crawling with flies, maggots, and worms.  The floors beneath Nevetsecnuac’s hauled (lugged, dragged) feet were all paved with crushed bones.

They approached a second set of doors, guarded by fearsome, grotesque giant Demons with halberds.  The bronze framed, purple ingrained cinnabar doors opened with a creaking, grinding sound onto a large vermilion hall, at the head of which was, seated on a dais and leaning against a desk, passing judgment, the most monstrous, most hideous looking Underworld King, Dekiletgan.

On either side of Dekiletgan, the half-human, half-beast fearsome demons holding standards on two-pronged spears were drawn up in tight, impenetrable ranks.  Standing in attendance off to the left side, holding stacks of files, was a tiger-headed Official. Next to him stood the hunchbacked, fox-headed, human-bodied clerk who, before the handling of each case, perused it carefully then passed the appropriate dossier to his superior.

As Nevetsecnuac's turn came the Demon Guards released Nevetsecnuac from the spell of immobility, prodded him forwards and forced him to his knees, after which they bowed and respectfully stepped aside.

The Demon King Dekiletgan, fixing his hard gaze on Nevetsecnuac, ordered the prisoner to approach the bench and state his plea, part of the empty, meaningless formality.

Nevetsecnuac, nevertheless, respectfully  prostrated (bowed-down) low and stated briefly his grievance; after which, he eloquently implored His Honor to grant him a second chance so as to fulfill his destiny and avenge all those that had been wronged, adding quickly that his own fate mattered little to him and, once his task was complete, he'd most willingly, without a qualm, would succumb to extreme tortures of Hell until his penance was paid in full.

Nevetsecnuac's courage and loyalty impressed Dekiletgan.  Favorably disposed to granting him temporary amnesty, the fiendish King turned his attention to Nevetsecnuac's dossier before him and opened it.  However, he had read only a few lines when he exploded in a sudden, great, all-consuming rage.  Smoke emanated from his nostrils; fire flashed from his pupils.  "What blunder is this?" he thundered. Checking his anger summarily however, but glaring at the tiger-headed Official, he summoned with a wave of his hand both the tiger-headed Official and the fox-headed clerk to approach the bench.  After being questioned at length, both were exonerated from all blame.

The Demon King Dekiletgan (pinned, turned) reverted his fiery, blazing eyes next to Nevetsecnuac.

"Because of your stupid blunder," he fumed, "all my records are now botched up!  You are guilty of the most heinous crime and deserve the extreme penalty of this court!  Even after the term of your penance, there will be no appeal, no reprieve for the likes of you."

Then, hastening the procedure, Dekiletgan passed the severest sentence upon poor Nevetsecnuac, at the end of which Nevetsecnuac was condemned to becoming a non-entity for eternity.

 "Take him away!" commanded the Dekiletgan as his final order.

"No, I refuse to abide by this hasty, unfair verdict, this travesty of justice!" Nevetsecnuac protested indignantly.

04-NEVETS ARGUES HIS CASE BEFORE THE UNDERWORLD KING DEKILETGAN

 "You call this a just ruling?  Where is my purported day in court?  I demand I be given a chance to vindicate myself!  What kind of court is this that tramples on truth, integrity, justice, and probity?  I will not deny that of which I stand guilty.  Even then, there were extenuating circumstances and legitimate, valid reasons for my actions.  No, I'm not seeking a total, or even a partial acquittal.  My singular wish is to gain a chance to fulfill my obligation.  No!  I will not be silenced, not until I get what I want!"  Nevetsecnuac stomped his foot defiantly.

"I demand to be heard!  Let go of me, you beasts!"  As Nevetsecnuac struggled and fought hard to free himself from the ever tightening, constricting bonds that had magically appeared on him and, trussed as he was, ducked, bent, and swerved to escape the full impact of the needling, piercing talons, sharp claws and silver rods that mercilessly targeted his head and body from all directions.  "Nooo... “

"Hah?" just then he came to with a start.

"Where am I?  How did I get here?" Nevetsecnuac asked out loud, looking-about him wildly.  To his great relief he found himself to be no longer in Hell but on Earth.  He was amid a thorny bush with clinging runners tightly wound around his legs and waist, restricting his movements.  He was soaked to the skin from the pounding rain. 

05- NEVETS  IN THE RAIN (23)

He looked down and saw his feet totally submerged in a pool of water up to his knees; meanwhile, he could sense many bloodsuckers, having found their way under cloth (his trousers), gorging on his blood.  Disconcerted by this; however, "Zonar?"  Instead, his hand reached up and felt his throat that was still throbbing in excruciating pain right where he had imagined, or dreamt, that Zonar had inflicted that deep gash. His mind still clouded with incomprehensible jargon, he saw wild, strange, bizarre visions flashing intermittently, dancing before his eyes.

"How on earth did I get here?" Once more he raised the question in exasperation as he jogged his memory and tried his best to recollect the very last thing that he did or had happened to him.  Meanwhile, with slight difficulty, he succeeded in weaving his way out from the grasp of the thorny bushes and, by pulling, tearing at the adhesive, sticky tentacles and runners that stubbornly clung to his hair, skin, and clothes, he eventually freed himself.  With bewildered eyes Nevetsecnuac then scanned the surroundings in search of his horse, but he had wandered into a no-man's land and here the dense forest permitted only scant light as thick, lush, tall vegetation choked the ground, obscuring whatever lay in its bosom.

His only chance, he knew, was to get to a higher ground and survey the wider perimeter.

Traversing the ascending, snaking path recently carved, obviously by him, Nevetsecnuac emerged finally out of this nightmarish gorge.

Using a small dagger, he kept concealed (in his boot) for eating purposes, he carefully scraped the bothersome bloodsuckers off his skin.

When the tapering rain just then ceased and strong winds, sweeping the clouds away to the west, created a window in the sky for the sun to peep from, Nevetsecnuac concluded from its position that it was late afternoon, which meant that three-quarters of the day had been, prior, lost to him in a shroud of mystery.  Fortunately, at present, his mind had cleared, and his senses were fully restored to normal.

Seated comfortably on a boulder, he tried to recollect the very last thing he had done, which, in all probability, had contributed to his hallucination. It quickly came to him: “Yes, just before dawn he had dug up some edible roots for sustenance.”

 “Could it be that particular?  No!”  He shook his head in disbelief.  He was certain that he had made no mistake on that account.  He had eaten that root hundreds of times with no consequence.  In the end, however, he had to concede that, perhaps in this part of the country, the same variety had evolved, triggering hence, detrimental effects on humans.

“In that case,” he inwardly noted, “I had best avoid that particular root altogether.” 

This was most disconcerting because, having come this far, he could not now jeopardize his aim.

Reflecting on his vivid hallucination, his combat with Zonar, his wretched, frustrating experience in Hell, Nevetsecnuac nodded with a wry smile, “It seems there is some measure of truth in these mountain folk tales and superstitions, after all.  Fortunately, I’ve survived it unscathed, but what of my mare?  I must seek her out right away; she could not have wandered too far unless she's fallen prey to some predatory beast!”

Fortunately, he'd taken the precaution of keeping the identity papers and summons on him.  Still, without a horse and a scholar's formal attire, Nevetsecnuac knew he could not advance in speed, to meet the deadline, nor could he present himself on foot in the Capital as Fradel Rurik Korvald, without arousing some unwarranted suspicion and dubious curiosity that might jeopardize his enterprise.

As he searched for his horse, there was yet another nagging concern in the back of his mind.  “In a perilous duel he had clashed swords and fists with Zonar, with neither of them gaining the advantage or besting the other.  Up until now, he had thought they were equally matched, but did this bizarre hallucination in some way portend a future encounter with, perhaps, graver consequences for him (Nevetsecnuac)?  Was his delirium a premonition, a warning not to engage Zonar?  Yet, what if Zonar was already in Channing (Imperial Capital City of Wenjenjun) to carry out precisely the purpose he had claimed in the illusion?”

 “No,” shaking his head, Nevetsecnuac dispelled that preposterous notion.  Zonar was too honorable for that.

Deciding to reconnoiter more extensively and, to get an aerial/panoramic view, Nevetsecnuac quickly climbed the tallest ancient tree.  As his eyes scanned the distance far and wide, to his elation he suddenly spotted, a lone horse resembling his, which had just moved out from under the broad-leafed canopy to graze beside a creek which snaked through a clearing beyond the next hill.

06- HORSE

 "Excellent!" Nevetsecnuac exclaimed in satisfaction.  Then his eyes sought the path which he had inadvertently strayed from.  Finding it, he traced it to where it met up with the old main road, barely visible from his position.  Having set firmly (etched) the direction and all pertinent obstacles in his memory, Nevetsecnuac climbed back down from the dizzying crown of this ancient tree with the nimble agility of a monkey. After which he hastened as fast as his legs could carry him, traversing the rough terrain, to reach his mount before dusk.  The spooked steed, none the worse for wear, bolted at the first sight of Nevetsecnuac then neighed and trotted warily, but did not run away.

Approaching her cautiously, Nevetsecnuac took the mare by the reins, gently stroking her long mane to erase her fears then, vaulting into the saddle, wheeled around, and galloped along the descending course in the right direction.

 

                                                                                           ~

 

(END OF SECTION 8)