LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 35

 

The cloaked figure had appeared before him out of nowhere, Lance Diostin sizing up this unmistakably, imposing warrior brandishing his sword, threw his head back and laughed venomously.  "And who are you supposed to be, dressed up as ‘The Avenging Ghost?’  Why this absurd, masquerade?"

"You are more accurate in your description than you imagine, sir; but it could not be helped." The cloaked figure laughed back and shrugged then assumed a more serious demeanor.

 "I have no quarrel with you personally, fact is, captain Zunrogo has not outlived his usefulness; so be warned, I can be your benefactor or your nemesis, depending on your choice.  All I ask is that you forego your intention to end his life, and then perhaps, I can be persuaded to spare your life."

"How magnanimous of you…  How fortunate for me that you are considering sparing me.  Look, I'm trembling in fear." Lance Diostin responded with a sneer.

01-LANCE DIOSTIN JP 13

"Spare my life indeed!  A mortal is not yet born who can defeat me.  Tell His Lordship to go to blazes!"  He launched into a murderous assault, bringing his full fighting skill against the cloaked figure.

"His Lordship?" the figure parried Lance Diostin’s thrusts with ease.

"Don't play dumb with me!"  Infuriated, Lance Diostin fought with the fierceness of a tiger and the swiftness of a whirlwind, leaving no room for any further discussion or opportunity for truce.

This time, however, it was Lance Diostin who was clearly outmatched.  The ensuing pitched exchange was brief.  Too late, the invincibility of the cloaked figure was revealed to him but by then, in the blink of an eye, Lance Diostin found himself on the receiving end of a magnificent, powerful strike which left him unarmed, with his magnificent sword cast aside, shockingly almost insensate (unconscious, numbed, almost paralyzed) and near mortally wounded, at (inches from) the other's feet.  A dry, death rattle in his throat, still defiant, he demanded to know the identity of this worthy opponent who had bested him.  The figure, however, simply shook his head, and said: “Truth will be disclosed, when we face each other next. You are a great warrior with invincible prowess; therefore, I’m averse to the idea of heedlessly (recklessly, rashly) terminating your life.” He nodded, “first, however, I must have your word that you will, forsaking your aim, leave your sword behind and swiftly depart (flee). I have no doubt you equally excel in swimming and therefore, will reach the shore in safety, despite your (injures) wounds?”

Lance Diostin was intrigued with his opponent’s magnanimous gesture; besides which, a chance to again duel with this invincible foe was an enticement enough to convince him to at present capitulate, so reluctantly he nodded his head, acceding (ascending, agreeing) to the cloaked figure’s terms (stipulations, conditions).

“But how will I know it’s you, when I encounter you in the future?” He then, as if in afterthought, asked. The cloaked figure after a pensive thought, nodded, “Very well I will reveal my identity to you, if you wow (swear) to keeping it a secret from everyone, till then.”

Lance Diostin, who was famed for his honorable character (unblemished reputation), readily concurred and gave his solemn promise; however, nothing had prepared him for the shocking revelation he was about to witness next. He was absolutely aghast and his eyes wide with disbelief continued to stare at his opponent’s face that had been only briefly revealed to him. Lance Diostin, despite the intense pain, pulled himself upright as he chuckled and then, turning to face this remarkable being, shook his head. “Oh, you are good. You had me, had all of us, so completely duped!”

“Considering your impaired physical state, are you certain you can safely reach the shore?” The cloaked figure, disregarding this, impatiently asked and, having received another nod, and lance’s words, “I wouldn’t miss, not for anything, our next encounter.” Stepped aside to allow Lance Diostin to walk past him.  The cloaked figure’s eyes impassively (cooly) then followed Lance, who despite his grave injuries, with remarkable resilience, swiftly advanced to the edge of the deck.

Lance Diostin half turned his head, his gaze unreadable, to simply say, “Capital Channing is the domain (sphere) of ultimate (supreme) jeopardy (hazard, risk, peril) keep that in mind and stay safe; I bid you farewell, till our next encounter (combat, contest).”

02- LANCE DIOSTIN JP 18

Then nimbly, with a fluid grace dove off the edge, to quickly be engulfed (plunged, rushed) by the choppy waters of the river.

The cloaked figure lingered at the spot for a moment or two then pensively nodded his head, and turning away, precipitously advanced his steps down the stairs, to below deck; as he rushed down the corridor towards his cabin, he came face to face with another cloaked figure brandishing a bloody sword.

“Who the hell are you?” Bellowed the other masked, formidable opponent but then not waiting for an answer, he launched his murderous attack.

“No matter, you must die!”

 He was in fact the covert affiliate of a secret Brotherhood; known as Kaelan, who’d been all this time posing as one of the ordinary crewmen, called Zack, on board this vessel, going about undetected. One of the best agents of Kozurs, working as a double spy, had as well, carried orders from Lance Diostin to undermine Zunrogo’s plans.

Kaelan’s blade was dripping with blood as he’d just fought his way against the barricade, butchering countless to advance towards his objective. He had attacked Disaidun Agripe, dealt her a near mortal blow then reaching beneath her bodice (the upper part of woman’s dress or undergarment that covers the upper body), stole the letter from the secret pocket. The original one secured on him, he’d then replaced hers with the fake (bogus) letter.

Kaelan’s surplus orders had been, to deal with or, to cooperate (assist) with Lance Diostin, depending on the circumstances (outcome) back on deck, after Lance had incapacitated (vanquished) Zunrogo and the Lieutenant. He was rushing there to fight, rather, to inform Lance of the amended orders, that there was no longer any need to destroy the vessel along with everyone on board. A highly competent double agent, Kaelan’s real objective (the letter being switched) done, he was then simply to disappear for an indetermined period, supposedly, to report back (not just to Kozurs but also) to Black Molochs. 

The sudden encounter with this unknown masked man with his blade tainted with blood revealed to Kaelan that, something had gone terribly awry (amiss, wrong). 

An awful thought just then crossed Kaelan’s mind, as there were no sounds of battle above, in fact all was perfectly quiet. Still no time to worry, he’d launched his murderous assault to deal with, rather vanquish, this unexpected adversary (foe). But as the two fought on it soon became clear to Kaelan, just who the victor would be; the covert crewman ceasing an only opportunity, took to his heals with the enemy hot in pursuit. Once on deck, the quick fleeting look (glance) told Kaelan of the dire situation, rushing to the edge, he dove straight off the boat to disappear in the turbulent, foamy waters. A Good strong swimmer he was gone from sight within minutes. The other masked warrior, abandoning pursuit, quickly returned to his cabin.

                                                                                  ~

 

When the blackness lifted, Zunrogo with hazy eyes spotted (saw), Lance Diostin’s discarded heirloom sword in a pool of blood just a few feet away, and even though there was no sign of Lance Diostin, corpse or otherwise anywhere to be seen, he still presumed of Lance’s certain demise and sharply sat up.

Looking at his own bloodied sword, then back at Lance Diostin’s discarded blade, then over to Tizan who was still unconscious and collapsed against the mast, Zunrogo was now puzzled.  Unable to recollect (remember) exactly what or how it happened, he pieced all the probable set of circumstances, clues and facts to conclude that he must have somehow, before he lost consciousness, had dealt his opponent Lance Diostin, the mortal blow at the edge of the deck, and his corpse must have tumbled into the fast flowing waters of the river. Ignoring the painful throbbing top of his head and temples, he slowly rose to his feet and tottered over to pick up Lance Diostin’s heirloom sword, the irrefutable proof of the foe’s demise.

03- LANCE DIOSTIN'S DISCARDED HEIRLOOM-SWORD

Studying the blade’s edge and noticing a fissure (cleft) in it, he wondered, “Such force… Could I have done that? Did I slew him?” he marveled, wondering, as his fingers lightly traced the obvious indentation (crack, cleft, fracture). 

The next instant his face fell in a frown, “This is terrible…This is not what supposed to have happened. Blast!”  Besides, he needed Lance Diostin alive for questioning.

“How could I have been so reckless, or driven to such desperation, to have taken this adverse course? Yet I cannot recollect how …” Baffled by the mystery and angry at this obvious set-back, he gingerly caressed the large, pulsating bump on the back of his head then brought his hand around to look with a disconcerted eye at his blood-soaked fingers.

 “Strange, I clearly remember how I got this wound but everything after that my mind is a complete blank.”

He shook his head.  “Ouch!  Don't do that again.”  He inwardly admonished self, for his carelessness.

Zunrogo’s brief scrutiny of his body revealed numerous lacerations, gashes, and bruises, none of which were particularly serious, except one on his left thigh.  He made a mental note to have this one sewn up, for the gash was too deep for the flesh to bind on its own.  Thank goodness it’d missed the blood vessel!  For now, he tore some strips off his shirt and wrapped them tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding as he looked once more at Lance Diostin’s sword.  He remembered how he had got this wound as well.

“Why is my memory so selectively clouded about the last set of events?  What in blazes happened?”  This mental fog was most disconcerting for him.

Just then Tizan's stirring drew Zunrogo's attention.  Rushing over to the Lieutenant's side, he knelt and helped Tizan sit up.

 "I thought I'd lost you for good; now there, take it easy."  His manner was unusually friendly.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." Tizan smiled, echoing of the captain's good humor.  Then an unexpected, faint groan escaped his lips, “Uggh…The hammering in my head!" 

Shamefaced, Tizan gave a darting glance at Zunrogo, for in all these years this was the first time Tizan had complained about anything.

"So, you're made of flesh and blood after all." Zunrogo affectionately patted Tizan's shoulder then rose to his feet with a grimace.

Tizan's eye fell on Lance Diostin’s heirloom sword.  "You have his sword; is he dead, Captain?"

04--TZAN JP

"Deader than a doornail." came the dispassionate answer from Zunrogo.

"Well then, sir, your reputation should be greatly enhanced after this."

 Disregarding the pain shooting across his chest, Tizan picked himself up off of the deck.

"More than you can imagine." Zunrogo donned (gave) a grin of satisfaction.

"But I thought you wanted him alive?"  Tizan ripped off his wet shirt and unbuckled his breastplate.

"It couldn't be helped." Zunrogo shrugged, his gaze still fixed on Lance Diostin’s sword.

"But how did you manage it?  If you don't mind my saying so, the last I recall you were in dire straits.  He was on the point of vanquishing you."

Tizan's direct question hit home as he again recalled that same time.  “How indeed… Yet somehow, I had turned the evil tide in my favor and changed the outcome. I’m here, aren’t I?” Zunrogo pensively looked away. 

“Too bad I can't recollect any details.” Zunrogo then simply shrugged and said no more.

“The concussion must have caused this temporary amnesia (memory loss). Though it’s most irritating,” Zunrogo inwardly reasoned, “perhaps it’ll all come back, soon, I hope. Hah, meanwhile, my nemesis is dead.”  He took comfort in that thought and walked to the edge of the deck, looked down then cast his gaze far, at the barely visible snaking shoreline perimeter of the (wide) vast expanse of the fast-flowing river.

"Perhaps, Captain, when things are straightened out, you will enlighten me as to how you defeated so competent a foe." Tizan misinterpreted Zunrogo's reluctance as modesty, had snuck up behind him, to add; he thereon continued to be a pesky nuisance.

Looking back to his Lieutenant, Zunrogo nodded distractedly then smiled wryly when he saw how oblivious Tizan was to the pain of the multiple cuts and bruises on his limbs and chest.  His eye caught one slash, that was bleeding profusely.

 "You'd best take care of that wound." he pointed it out with his chin.

"I still have plenty of blood to spare." Tizan pressed his shirt against it observing more closely Lance’s heirloom-sword, which Zunrogo still held onto.  When he caught sight of the indentation at the edge of blade, he let out his breath in a long, involuntary gasp, "Wow!"

He looked up at Zunrogo, with an admiring gaze.  “Had he really done this?  I had no idea he could muster such force.”

Zunrogo ignored his reaction, looked around him and commented thoughtfully, "We have quite a bit of cleaning up to do, Tizan.  Do you think you're up to the task?"

"And why not…  Since when few cuts and bruises ever slowed me down, Captain?  I'm no old woman!"  Tizan indignantly sprung to his feet but the profuse bleeding from his wound constrained him, nonetheless, to do something about it.  Cutting some more strips, this time from the shirt of one of the corpses, he wound them tightly around his wound, giving it a haphazard, but effective, dressing.  At least now he could work unhindered.  He knew what had to be done without being told and he set too with closest perimeter, following the set routine, piling up the carcasses in (heaps) groups of two or three and finding heavy objects to tie them for weight.  He was ready to tackle the next batch (of corpses further away), when Zunrogo grasped his arm.

"No, Tizan, all this can wait."  He indicated with a nod of his head for Tizan to follow, as he swiftly (descended the stairs and) disappeared below decks.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 35)

                                                                                                 ~

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 34

It had been quite a row, a real humdinger of a fight, all right!  He couldn't have been much more than nine or ten, but Tizan was well enough developed for his age to, at long last, hold his own against that brute.  “He had rebelled soon enough, though, hadn't he?”

From the age of seven he had relentlessly fought back each time his stepfather had taken to drink and viciously turned on him. Had his father not died or that his mother did not re-marry, he had always wondered, perhaps things might have been different. 

Tzan had suffered greatly; as far back as he could remember, all through his childhood in fact, with many beatings, constant verbal abuse and endless torment at the hands of his stepfather Zianko. (First mentioned in Book 1 - Fisherman’s Prize- Section 3)

 

01-  ZIANKO

No man could be more vicious to a child.   The vile brute Zianko was a heartless, greedy, selfish dog! Then came the day on which Tzan’d been an eyewitness to Zianko’s murdering his mother. Perhaps the only time she’d stood up to him, fighting desperately to uphold her son’s right to inherit her former husband’s estate. But no one took any notice of Tizan’s claims or accusations, for Zianko had already arranged to make it look like a perfect, irrefutable accident. Shortly after, Tizan had suddenly fallen deadly ill, and very nearly died, but he had recovered, in time to learn, that his stepfather Zianko had been cleared of all charges. Meanwhile secretly from then on, the brute had conspired to murder him (Tizan) before he reached the age of twelve.

On that night, two months before he was to turn twelve, their brawling had reached a peak when that beast Zianko, unable to gain advantage with his hands alone, had taken up an oar and struck a hard, brutal blow at Tizan’s temple, knocking him out cold.  When Tizan regained consciousness in small hours of the night, he'd at once secretly taken off, preferring the unknown dangers of the mountainous forest to certain, slow death at his stepfather Zianko’s hands. Just before he left, he, looking back on the fishing village, had inwardly vowed to someday kill Zianko if he ever came across him again.

 

                                                                                  ~

 

Tizan now looked back out at the spot where the boat had been short time before, his eye catching the first of the mangled wreckage bob up to the surface.  For a moment he imagined that it was his stepfather’s boat and each of the bodies it took to the bottom with it was Zianko, killed repeatedly.  The image gave him little satisfaction, but it was the best he could muster at present. Even after many years of intense loathing, same seething, all-consuming abhorrence of Zianko still coursed through his veins.

“Odd that I'd remember Zianko now,” Tizan turned his attention back to the pitched battle still raging between captain Zunrogo Tugo and Lance Diostin.

“Devils take me!  How could I have frittered away (waste) all that time, with just reminiscing… where’s my good sense?”  His guts were gnawed by self-reproach. 

 

02--TZAN JP

In truth, the squandered time had only been no more than a heartbeat.

Snatching a sword from the nearest corpse and carving a deliberate course, Tizan rushed into the fray, wanting to fight alongside Zunrogo; but the dizzying and intense speed (never once dwindling), skill and agility with which Zunrogo and Lance Diostin fought, interlocked as they were in that kind of a continuous, sound combat, did not afford Tizan least opportunity (opening) to intercede.

Unrelenting, Tizan kept mental notes on Lance Diostin’s unique fighting style and any potential weakness in his offensives as he combatted other foes; all the while, he sought an opportunity to intervene with a well-placed strike at Lance Diostin.

He gradually lost heart when he observed how flawlessly Lance executed his offensives without giving up an inch of his defensive position.  Lance had no failings of any kind.  Though captain Zunrogo was the most competent fighter Tizan had known, Zunrogo was dwarfed in martial skills by his invincible opponent and even was forced into maintaining only a defensive course for much of the time.

Tizan, meanwhile, had soon run out of opponents to fight, and he stood looking about, surrounded by heaps of corpses, for least sign of life for which to extinguish. Disappointed he turned his attention back to the only ongoing action (contesting duo).

“Strange,” Tizan mused, observing how there’d been few instances during which a flaw in Zunrogo's defenses had left an opening, a perfect opportunity for a strike, yet his opponent Lance Diostin had ignored these obvious advantages.

“Oh, he’s so shrewd; adroit that he is, is he just toying with the captain?”

 Tizan inwardly questioned Lance Diostin’s motive, while at the same time with a sinking feeling, grew (became) skeptical of Zunrogo’s ability for the first time ever.  “He’s not invincible after all, is this the mentor I've sworn an unconditional allegiance to?”

Before he could follow up on his doleful, glum (gloomy, woeful) thoughts, the rarest opportunity just then had presented itself.  Lance had for a split second let his guard down, allowing slight vulnerability in his rear.  Fearlessly, Tizan jumped into the fray, recklessly not giving his brain (his senses) apt time to grasp (comprehend, gather) that Lance Diostin might have deliberately and with specific design, slackened off just enough to afford him (Tizan) this rare chance.

"The more the merrier!" warding off both sets of blows, Lance Diostin threw his head back and laughed; he then set to with equal equanimity and deadly precision, simultaneously attacking both Zunrogo and Tizan. 

"For a moment there, I thought that you would turn tail and run, Lieutenant.  Now, at least, I have a more even match.  I wouldn't want to be accused of taking unfair advantage of Captain Zunrogo here.  Oh, let me thank you, sir, for your invaluable service in ridding me of that excess baggage back there…. ha, ha!"

Lance talked and fought with equal ease; meanwhile, Lance Diostin’s fluid, swift maneuvers strained both his opponents’ defensives, their ability to the brink and, at the same time, restricted their corresponding strikes. By all accounts, Lance Diostin wasn't even trying all that hard.

 

03-LANCE DIOSTIN JP 12

Bristling at his arrogance, both Zunrogo and Tizan intensified their efforts and succeeded in, for an instant, turning the battle to the offensive.  Yet, despite their perfectly orchestrated, deadly onslaught, they still could not weaken or best Lance Diostin.

Lance Diostin’s amusement faltered after a while and he picked up momentum, wielding his sword with lightning speed and deadly effect.  He redoubled his offensive strikes with unyielding power, strength and unsurpassed cunning and agility, striking at places where there seemed to be no opening, piercing defenses that appeared flawless.  This intense, pitched fighting continued for a short spell though for Zunrogo and Tizan it seemed to be an eternity.

The two, finding themselves in dire straits, fought on with all their might but were unable to keep their adversary at bay.  They were hanging on only by the skin of their teeth.  Then, while fending off a deadly thrust by Zunrogo, Lance Diostin swiftly twirled and landed a good, swift kick squarely on Tizan's chest.  It was fortunate that Tizan had not discarded his armor, otherwise his ribs, which took the brunt of this attack, would have been instantly pulverized.  Still, the force of the blow was enough to hurl him right across the deck and into the mast, where he slumped down, unconscious.  Tizan was still not out of danger, for Lance had raced to follow his flying body and was at the point of decapitating his helpless form in the next heartbeat.

Zunrogo, putting on an all-out effort, had leapt over to the mast and, in the nick of time, intervened with deadly force to block Lance Diostin’s strike.

 Taking a stance between Lance and the Lieutenant Tzan, Zunrogo hurled curses, dares and taunting assaults while strategically retreating, (to lure) to draw Lance Diostin away from Tizan towards an un-sprung trap further down the deck.  This, Zunrogo perceived, would be his best hope of besting his nemesis.

However, it proved ineffectual.  Lance Diostin was too insightful, too clever to be caught unawares by the deadly snare.  In fact, with an agile maneuver, Lance forced Zunrogo to spring the trap.  Zunrogo escaped, only with a hairsbreadth, as the hurtling blade flew past the side of his neck to land in the river.  Zunrogo had trained himself to never ever consider defeat during a battle and so, he continued to fight in a desperate all-out struggle.

Lance Diostin clearly could have annihilated the captain at any time but, again, he slackened off on his assaults, clearly deriving a particular pleasure from toying with his eventual victim.  "Well, my friend", Lance hissed, "I must thank you for affording me this wonderful practice session.  It is only rarely that I get to use my full skills these days.  You see, once I reach my full potential (ability), my opponents invariably end up dead and, of course, it would be unwise of me to leave any witnesses to circulate reports of my true skill.  Good sparring partners are hard to find, you know.  So, you, sir, may go to your death knowing that your worthless life has, indeed, served some small purpose.”

Zunrogo realized too late how he had been led to mortally (fatally) underestimating Lance Diostin's true prowess.  Had he but known, he could have deployed more powerful reinforcements, adopted more effective means, engaged in diversionary tactics, or considered retreat, to just live to fight another day.

 

04- ZUNROGO AND lANCE DIOSTIN CLOSE COMBAT

As it stood, he was failing miserably.  He knew he had only himself to blame for this grave oversight.  He had been well versed in military strategy and should have perceived the possibility of this deception by Lance Diostin and taken measures to guard against it.  Lance Diostin’s adaptation of the age-old ruse had been flawless and Zunrogo, like the many others who preceded him, had been properly duped, lulled into a false sense of security right up to the very end before being totally, and irrevocably vanquished.

There was no time for self-reproach or remorse.  Just as Zunrogo was about to modify his strategy to one of escape at any cost, Lance launched a whirlwind assault that instantly incapacitated him.  He could feel the world going black as he fought to strike back.

Grinning cruelly, Lance Diostin lifted his magnificent sword high above his head, setting up the one powerful, lightning stroke that would slice through Zunrogo's neck like a harpoon through a jellyfish.  He let go of the stroke, the sword arched through the air in firm descending course, backing it up with all his force.

The blade’s course midway was stopped cold however, never reaching Zunrogo's neck as if it had hit a solid rock; furthermore, the shock wave traveled back up the sword and through Lance Diostin’s whole body.

"What the hell?" glowering, Lance Diostin jumped back and turned to assess the opponent still brandishing the sword that had blocked his fierce, deadly aim (blow).

                                                                                           ~

 

 (END OF SECTION 34)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 33

Disaidun Agripe (ended) stopped her reminisces (recollections) and then stood up to stretch her limbs that had gone gradually stiff in her squatting position.

 “This is intolerable. How much longer do I have to wait before I see some action?” Mumbling to herself, Disaidun paced back and forth in the restricted space then, stopping, she pinned her face up against a peep hole between two deck planks and strained her ears to the sounds up above.  Aside from the creaks and groans of the rigging, all was deathly still.  She jerked back, suddenly aware that the irritating, muffled noises from their cabin had as well, totally ceased (stopped).

“He does not deserve this pain.  In fact, it would have been more merciful if I had stuck a knife between his ribs or poisoned him.”  Disaidun inclined her head. 

01- DISAIDUN AGRIPE

That would have been his fate in any case once they had gone ashore in the next port.

She had no other choice, she told herself, for Ceroz being so besotted (love struck), he would never have left her voluntarily.  He had to be forced.

“That’s right, you brought this on yourself.  Having no backbone, sooner or later you would have been preyed upon.  If not I, then another would have come by to summarily end your worthless existence.” 

Despite her denials, however, she did harbor some compassion, some fondness for Ceroz; for he had always been most loving, attentive, kind, and sensitive to her needs, an ideal husband (spouse) in fact, if it were not for his cowardice. 

“Why couldn't he be a bit more like his half-brother, Zohuj Kez?” She sighed.

  For even without a man's equipment, Zohuj had demonstrated more masculine attributes (trait) than Ceroz.

It suddenly dawned on her that she had not heard the brat's squalling either, not since last night, or an uncertain dread crept into her heart.  “Had he smothered the baby in his anguish?  Well, it is better than drowning or being ….”  But then angry feeling took hold, that and, sheer contempt.   

“If he did that…that alone proves just how spineless, how pathetic he is!” She huffed angrily and began pacing the space behind the barricade once more, her hands firmly clasped together behind her back.

“Oh, this suspense is unbearable!”  Halting, Disaidun stamped her foot. “I wish it was all over with already.  If it doesn't start soon, I'm going just to burst!”

                                                                              ~

 

02- SHIP FOLLOWING THEM IS NOW SEEN

The curtain (shroud) of fog lifted exactly the time Zunrogo had predicted it, revealing a familiar craft swiftly bearing down on them.  Seeing that the, all clear flag, had been hoisted the oarsmen, on Lance Diostin's order, now rowed with greater zeal and the vessel shot forward over the water like a gust of wind, hardly skimming the surface.  However, as they drew closer Lance Diostin's keen eyesight detected the figure of Captain Doku, though taller in stature, with his back towards them at the ship's prow, as-well-as, a notable absence of the usual crew.  Suspecting a ruse, he grew particularly apprehensive and, assembling his ablest archers, instructed them to take aim and shoot at the captain once they were within range.

A volley of arrows rained down upon Tizan; alerted just in time however, by a low whistle from Zunrogo, Tizan turned slightly askew and, (wielding his sword,) with the flat of his whirling blade, warded off the most dangerous shafts from piercing his head, neck and legs.  After which, he quickly took cover beside Zunrogo; then chuckling, he pulled a dozen or so arrows out of the light breastplate he had worn under his shirt.  Grinning wryly, he broke the bunch of them in two over his knee and cast them disdainfully onto the open deck for Lance Diostin to see.

Zunrogo was not pleased. “What a waist.” He huffed, “those arrows could have been reused.”

“What a fool.” Sangui, in the other vessel scoffed, witnessing Tzan’s impertinence.

"No matter, I'll have that bastard's hide stretched out on the deck soon enough." Lance Diostin simply shrugged.  "I had expected as much."

"I suppose Captain Doku has already been murdered," his second in command, Sangui Xiory, speculated, "and the crew incapacitated, if not killed outright."

03- SANGUI XIORY

"No.", Lance Diostin countered.  "Zunrogo would not discard the crew until the very end, when they would have outlived their usefulness."

 A sinister smile registered on Lance Diostin’s lips as he looked away.

“Remarkable how Lance Diostin can anticipate Zunrogo's every move.” Sangui looked up at him with admiration.

Despite his young age, Lance Diostin was a brilliant tactician; furthermore, his exceptional (unequal) skill in wielding the sword, as well, other military prowess’s had earned him the admiration and regard of many seasoned military generals in the Imperial army.

"It's simple, Lieutenant." Lance Diostin said, surmising the other’s thought.  "You see; that bastard thinks he'll succeed."

"In a pig's eye," Sangui laughed.

"A word of caution, though." Lance's serious demeanor sobered up the conversation.

 "Do not underestimate that Tizan fellow we shot at, or you'll suffer greatly for it."

“As far as I can see, his reputation is far too exaggerated.” Sangui scoffed inwardly, discounting the good advice while nodding his agreement outwardly.

“Wasn’t he just a fisherman’s son? This low-born plebe (army cadet) doesn’t scare me.  You just wait; I'll show him up for the blundering trainee he is.”  He stole a look up at Lance.

“Pity; I’ll be sorry to lose Sangui.” From the corner of his eye observing Sanqui’s reaction, Lance Diostin somewhat disgruntled, shook his head then went below decks to don (wear, put on) his battle armor.

Soon after, standing on the aft deck before his (amassed) strike force, Lance Diostin addressed the assembled men, warning them of the traps he anticipated on the target vessel then stepped aside, leaving it to Sangui to brief the men on the expected nature of these dangerous pitfalls and give them a crash course on how to detect and avoid them.

Lance was sure he had correctly predicted most of the ingenious devices Zunrogo would have planted around the vessel, given the materials he had at hand, but saw no need to extrapolate on all of them.

As it were, this first contingent, mostly made up of new recruits, was deemed expendable; their deaths would rid Lance Diostin of defective (incompetent, flawed) bunch; meanwhile, their attack exploited as a diversionary tactic (of easy pickings), would mislead the enemy and weaken them with false sense of overconfidence (daring) and certainty.

Second contingent was temporarily held back, for Lance Diostin did not intend on sacrificing his best men to a sure defeat.

04-  LANCE DIOSTIN JPD

“Next onslaught will be drawn out for as long as possible,” Lance Diostin grimaced pensively. “It should prove amusing, at the very least.” 

Lance's spies had informed him of the remarkable progress Zunrogo had made in his fighting style, hence he expected him, unlike most of Lance’s previous foes, to withstand the first wave of attack. Meanwhile the marksmen sustaining extreme vigilance shot at anything and everything that had made the slightest move on the target vessel, their aim getting more exact (precise) as the distance, between the two, gradually (bit by bit) diminished.

 When the vessels had moved to within nine feet of each other Lance Diostin raised a mighty war cry and, brandishing his magnificent sword, leapt onto the other boat to lead, the first contingent in attack.  Avoiding all the snares and traps, with the skill of an invincible (omnipotent, supreme) warrior, Lance headed straight (directly) for Zunrogo and launched his murderous assault, at once engaging the captain in a fierce mortal struggle.

The first contingent as anticipated, one after another, fell victim to Zunrogo’s clever, rather ingenious contraptions: many were hacked to pieces by sprung blades or stabbed by poisoned darts.  Others were hopelessly ensnared in nets where they were finished off by Tizan, who had lain in wait.  Those lucky enough to get through found Tizan too difficult to contend with as he twirled among them, leaving their lifeless husks twitching upon the deck.

With a fierce cry Sangui, leading the second wave of more experienced fighters from below decks, entered the fray (battle) only to be cut down, after a desperate engagement, by Tizan's flailing sword. 

The pursuing vessel’s civilian captain left behind to man (work) his crew, seeing the destruction of recruits and erroneously suspecting things were not going so well, rushed to the tiller (rudder, helm) to turn the vessel about. Unfortunately, he never got the chance, for Tizan with a mighty leap, jumping over the heads of the still boarding men, began slaughtering the crew from their rear.

05- TZAN  CHARGES FORWARD UNSTOPABLE

After the Captain was sliced and all his mates hacked to pieces, Tizan cut through next, the second wave which had regrouped to bar his way to the hold.

Pandemonium broke out below decks as he set about slaughtering those who had stayed to guard the precious arsenal.

Stepping over the corpses littering the floor, Tizan's brief investigation revealed, to his utter delight, the expected stocks of oil, pitch, sulfur, and tinder along with the arrowheads used to launch their mixture onto opposing vessels.  Tizan had with him a small quantity of incendiary powders, in case Zunrogo's assessment had proven wrong.  Now, with these for strikers, he immediately set to work placing the firebombs in the most strategic locations to ensure the maximum damage.

After lighting the long fuses, he rushed above deck.  The badly wounded Captain, as his last living act, had been successful in changing the vessel's course and there was now a considerable distance between the two ships.  Tizan dove swiftly into the river.  He had always been a strong and expert swimmer so, despite the currents that pitched and tossed him about, he was able to catch up to his own vessel in no time at all and was soon hauling himself back on board.

 He crouched to catch his breath, inclining his head to see the pursuing vessel torn apart by several successive explosions.  Before long the whole boat was ablaze, great flames leaping into the sky and a thick, billowing cloud of black smoke boiled into the sky.  Then the hull of the vessel split it two and the pieces sizzled and hissed as water flooded into the hold. 

06- SHIP BLOWN UP

Whirling around and around, the boat disappeared into a whirlpool, leaving nothing behind on the river's choppy surface but a few charred timbers and a floating carpet of yellow sulfur powder.

 As Tizan watched the complete destruction of Lance Diostin’s vessel, his eye caught countless dead or stunned fish floating now on the surface of the water and, in his mind's eye, a long-buried recollection of other fish killed by deliberate explosions pushed its way past all the barriers he had set up against it.  Wrapped around it as an indissoluble part of the event remembered were all the other memories that had lain dormant in his mind for so many years yet now flashed for a split-second back into his consciousness.  Absentmindedly his hand reached up to the far corner of his left brow and caressed the deep, furrowed scar on his temple.

 

                                                                                   ~

 

(END OF SECTION 33)

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 32

 

 With nothing else left to do, Tizan donned (wore, put on) Captain Duko's attire over the light armor he kept on underneath to protect him from arrows then, as ordered, went back below decks to retrieve (fetch) Disaidun Agripe.

This time quite unexpectedly, Disaidun’s spineless husband, having mustered all his courage, charged at Tizan just as they were headed out the door. 

 

01- CEROS AGRIPE STRIKES BACK

Though Ceroz Agripe was half-crazed, filled with remorse and rage, he was still no match for the Lieutenant of Imperial guards and so, with just one blow from the back of his fist, hardly any effort at all on Tizan's part, Ceroz was hurled right across the room, bloodied and almost cataleptic (almost out cold), to crash onto the floor of the cabin.

 "You dare oppose me, wretch!" Tizan’s rage not assuaged, growling he went over to deliver a couple of vicious kicks to the Ceroz's side; the force of the second kick was such, it lifted the massive body up and slammed (smashed, crashed) it against the far wall of the cabin.

 

02- CEROS AGRIPE KICKED TO FAR END

 Tizan turned his fiery gaze back to the woman Disaidun Agripe and bellowed.  "What have you done to him to bring him to such a state?"

Not condescending to answer, Disaidun Agripe simply shrugged and walked on ahead.

“Quite the vixen, aren't you?” Tizan smirked as he locked and barred the door behind them.  In truth he liked a woman with such spunk but, since Captain Zunrogo had taken special interest in her, she was off-limits to him.  Such was the rule he had always lived by and continued to follow. 

Grabbing Disaidun Agripe’s arm forcefully next, and ignoring her volley of threats, he lugged (toted) her to the barricade.  "This is your post.  The captain forbids you to stray an inch from this point…  Understand?"  Only then Tizan let go of her arm. He was inwardly thrilled at her repressed seething contempt for him, and could not help but provoke her further, "We have only a few hours now before the fog lifts.  If you want to pray for your salvation, go ahead; now may be your only chance."  He smirked.

 

Her retort froze on her lips when her eye just then caught the exceptionally crafted crossbow leaning in the far corner.  Walking over, Disaidun Agripe picked it up, examined it carefully and said, “Where did you find this?  It’s magnificent."

Then, she sedately withdrew an arrow from its quiver.

 

“Show off, as if you can discern a good weapon from a bad one.  Some maven (expert, professional, doyen) you are.” He’d inwardly scoffed, fixing his cold gaze at her; Tzan once more could not resist goading (inciting) her, "You do know how to use it, I trust?".

 

Disaidun Agripe did not answer him but, instead, loaded the arrow in the blink of an eye then aimed it directly at Tizan's heart and asked. “Do you want a demonstration?"

This was too much!  Throwing his head back and trusting his hidden armor, Tizan laughed heartily, "Go ahead, I dare you to."

 

03-TZAN JP

Just then Zunrogo appeared on the scene, his stern looks at once sending Tizan without another word, scurrying off to above deck, to take up his assigned post.

Disaidun Agripe’s (Jepipi's) alluring approach was met with the same icy rebuke.

Not taking it to heart, she behaved as if he bade her, sizing up Zunrogo from the corner of her eye and admiring his heroic countenance.

 

“By the Gods, he is magnificent! “Gearing up for this single, bitter battle, she was positive he would triumph over any foe, however invincible, before the end of the day.

                                                                                         ~

 

For seemingly endless hours now, Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi) had fidgeted at her post.  These times preceding an engagement (battle) had always seemed to drag on forever; furthermore, the angry rants and ravings of her half-crazed husband Ceroz, only two doors down aggravated her soul and ignited her ire, making things far worse.

“Oh, why won't he shut up?” Disaidun Agripe groaned, for her conscience bothered her a little now; after all, it was she who had brought him to this state.

“But it was necessary,” she told herself to ease the guilt.  “I had to do what I did to survive.  Why couldn't he be a bit more like his half-brother?  Insipid fool brought this misfortune down upon himself because he's less of a man, he’s so weak! “Her face contorted in disgust.

 

                                                                             ~

 

Yesterday, upon her return from her blissful experience with Zunrogo, she had hesitated for a few moments outside the cabin door, just long enough to dishevel her hair, loosen her belt, scratch her shoulders, and rip her bodice slightly, altering her appearance and assuming a tragic countenance.

 Let inside and, finally free (away) from Tizan's prying eyes, Disaidun had then given an incredible performance of a woman who had been both physically and mentally abused.

 

Ceroz Agripe already looked haggard, his face unusually gaunt and pale, and his eyes sunken and bloodshot.  It tore at his heart and ripped his bowels to shreds, nearly driving him to the brink of insanity to hear Disaidun’s embellished accounts of the shameful mauling (pawing, battering) that she had supposedly endured at the hands of that vile, lecherous old official, Luvet. That’s right; not Zunrogo but Luvet, her husband was led to believe, was the supposed sole perpetrator of this grievous sexual assault on his beloved wife Disaidun.

 

04- LUVET

Luvet’d spared her face but not her body, under her garments, she’d claimed, was all black and blue as testament of his ill treatment. She had brazenly offered to show it to him but Ceroz, the fool, trusting in her implicitly, simply taken her at her word.

Ceroz Agripe was further led to believe that, behind Luvet's seemingly benign, quiet disposition lay a calculating, sinister, greedy, licentious, and vindictive villain who had, from the moment he’d laid eyes on Disaidun, lusted after her and from then on shamelessly had striven (endeavored) to possess her.

The convincing story Disaidun fed her husband was wretched enough in itself but her quiet tears, her unspoken insinuations just compounded Ceroz’s already intolerable existence, his unbearable misery. Highly incensed, Ceroz Agripe’d gnashed his teeth, shaken his fist in the air and vowed to exact vengeance on that dog's spawn. 

“He'd make him pay dearly for his vile deeds, enlist the help of his half-brother, Zohuj Kez and his influential friends, if needs be.”

"And how do you propose to survive this present danger?  You know you're powerless to stop him or them."  Disaidun had rebuked him, then relayed to him the information she’d overheard, when they thought she’d passed out, in Luvet’s cabin.

Luvet the mastermind, Ceroz Agripe came to believe, had conspired from the start with Captain Doku, the two assassins, the Imperial guard Tizan and Captain Zunrogo, and the seemingly upright scholar, to intercept in mid-stream a tribute vessel bound for the Capital with its cargo of gold bullion.

The details of this grand larceny had been worked out months in advance, down to the minutest point and, the specific measures needed for smooth transition and the eventual execution, now had been finalized.  Many more were involved in a scheme of this magnitude, including some subversives planted on the targeted vessel. The few expendable passengers/witnesses, like them, were all imprisoned in their cabins, to be dealt with later; their predictable demise, however, would eliminate (eradicate) any possibility of trouble later-on.

Then she reminded her husband how she had wanted to disembark along with the other, lucky passengers when the opportunity had availed itself, when there was still time.

She blamed him, on his short-sightedness, his eagerness to reach his new post, and consequently, for this terrible predicament.

Her ill luck had also been the contributor. She then softening, had exclaimed, looking as though she desperately sought to exonerate at least in part, his guilt, which further endeared her to him, “How wonderful she was; how so very naïve to believe in nonsensical superstition.” Fool that he was, she could read him like a book.

 

05-CEROS AND DISAIDUN AGRIPE

 “Oh, darling husband, what can we do, what can you do to save me?” Once more she had wept unconsolably, heart wrenchingly.  After which, when she, feeling terribly parched, dried her eyes, and asked her husband to fetch her some water from the jug.

Her husband eager to please and to console her had rushed to do her bidding.

 It was at that point in time, when she looking even more dismal (gloomy), robbed him of least hope, by telling him that before she was sent back, she had been told, but was afraid to tell him till then, how the villain Luvet intended to murder Ceroz and the baby and if she did not agree to be his concubine in future, he threatened to sell her into slavery (bondage).

As for the reasons why, she had been sent back, it was simply to allow her to say her final farewells, while they finalized their plan and corrected prior overlooked areas of incongruity (conflict ).

"Oh, dear husband our bliss has been so cruelly cut short; as doomed individuals we are, robbed of ecstasy of growing old together. You’ll never see your son grow up. He’ll never grow up! “Disaidun Agripe had looked at him with hurtful, resigned eyes then burst into loud sobs to once more, wrench his heart.

She’d watched (seen) from the corner of her eye how self-loathing and reproach gnawed at his entrails, how flustered, how sickened at heart he’d suddenly felt, in his dire predicament.

For a brief second, seeing how she had broken him with her words, she had felt the stirring of remorse tugging at her conscience; but she had already resolved in Zunrogo's cabin to carry this ploy through to the bitter end.

"Don't worry, husband," her heart again hardened, she had seized this opportunity to add salt to his open wounds.

 "I will not blame you for what will happen to me in future. As I said earlier, I was born under an unlucky star; it has been my curse my entire life.  I don't see why it should change now.  I'm grateful for this one brief period of happiness you have given me.  It will be one fond memory I will carry with me to my grave."

Then once again Disaidun Agripe had recounted in detail, the shameful episodes with Luvet; at the end of which, she’d thrown herself at her husband’s feet, imploring him to have mercy and, by killing her right there and then, put an end to her torment.

 Of course, Disaidun knew Ceroz was totally incapable of such an act.  It was just one more pummel of guilt, another whack of disgrace, all, fostering chagrin, to further constrict the loop (strap, noose, snare, rope) around her husband’s neck, to sap his honor, his manhood and ultimately, push him over the edge.

Egged on by her pleading the fool had tried, given it his best shot too; to predictably in the end, when, she had started to turn ashen, when her eyes had bulged out only a little and, she had started to emit slight gurgling sounds, he had suddenly broken off his grip on her neck and then, with a horrified look on his face, fallen back.

"I can't go through with it! I'm no murderer." He’d cried out.

 “What did I almost do?” Traumatized Ceroz Agripe had glared hatefully at those still partially clenched, despicable hands that had almost taken the life of his beloved wife.

He had next, burying his face and fallen on his knees, had sobbed hysterically, uncontrollably, like a child.

 

06- DISRAUGHT CEROS AGRIPE

Disaidun Agripe, her senses restored to norm, though inwardly sullen, going over, had murmured her encouragement. "It’s all right, dear.  You did nothing wrong. I asked you to; I made you do it. You are not to be blamed. You are a good man; you always were.  We’ll be all right."  She'd then sobbed inconsolably as she cradled him and rocked his head soothingly in her arms.  "Please don't cry.”

 Drying her tears, she’d then to further shame him, promised resolutely, “You need not try, dear; I’ll find the strength somehow for us both and, avenge this wrong. This time I'll find it in myself too..."  She did not have to complete her sentence, for he had understood (grasped) her meaning. 

Disaidun would rather end her own life by throwing herself into the cold river and perishing in the watery grave, than suffer further shame. 

Her strong determination only belittled him further, robbing what little bit of humanity was left within him.  He felt smaller than a maggot, slime, a piece of offal.

 

 

                                                                              ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 32)