LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 9

“It appears that majority are split on the idea; please be good enough to furnish us with your unreserved opinion." His Excellency Lamont Gudaren asked Fradel Rurik Korvald.

 

01 - PM LAMONT GUDAREN -1-JP

“What...?” Suddenly Nevetsecnuac, having regained his full senses, grasped that was back to present reality. He was seated at the honored place at table as before, the large hall filled with animated, boisterous dignitaries enjoying the sumptuous feast and conversing with those nearby; but, apparently him included, few were engaged in a heated discussion. No one had experienced any lapse in time or his strange feeling of having been part of a …...?

What had happened?  Again, he inwardly queried. Had he (because of too much wine) fallen into a momentary stupor? Nevetsecnuac was still preoccupied in his mind with this mysterious feeling and clear lapses of memory, knowing, sensing he’d been part of a fantastic experience, only he could not recollect, what?

"Surely you don't condone it?" His Excellency Lamont Gudaren, taking Fradel’s prolonged silence as, an unexpected opposition to his view, with his relentless zeal, pressed the illustrious Scholar, for an answer.

During the brief interval that Fradel Rurik Korvald had closed his eyes, another dignitary misinterpreting his hesitation, had boldly began advancing his own argument in full support of the illustrious scholar.

"Are you all, right?" Zaur Stugr, the only one with astute sensitivity, now leaned forward closer to Fradel, to express subtly, in muted whisper, his genuine concern.

"Come to think of it, your complexion has turned abnormally pallid."  Unfortunately, the inebriated Lord seated beside Zaur loudly and brashly interjected, which directed (those seated at proximity,) the three or four bureaucrats’ unsolicited, pseudo (bogus) concerns to momentarily scrutinize Fradel Rurik Korvald. Subsequently, from those mouths the torrent of thoughtful, nonetheless ersatz blather, poured forth.

 

02-FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC) AT PM PARTY

Fradel assured his host and everyone about that it was nothing serious and that he had felt momentarily lightheaded because of having consumed far too much of the excellent brew. Asking hence to be excused for a spell, and politely declining all offers of company, Fradel then quickly rose to his feet and escaped to outside; for a stroll and, to (presumably) clear his head, in the magnificent (well manicured) grounds. His lungs welcomed the crisp air. Twenty feet distance away, after crossing a meandering stilted (wooden) bridge, he came across an azure pavilion situated at a higher ground near the periphery of a heart-shaped pond; the whole structure was nestled by the exotic trees and in front of them, there were scores of colourful flowering bushes. After quickly ascending the eight steps, going over he sat down in one of the comfortable rattan-(wicker) chairs. Leaning back, he exhaled thoughtfully and then looking into distance, tried to gather his thoughts. Since the time he had for a spell, lost all consciousness, he had been haunted by the strong intuitive feeling that something had been amiss: something vital had transpired during that time and that it had something to do with an incantation (charm), an odd species (sentient being), or a talisman (object, trinket).

 “Yes, an amulet… one definitely, startlingly similar to Zonar's,” He suddenly recollected (recalled), the particularly, obscure memory, looking at the ripples on the pond.

Strangely enough, he had a keen sense of experiencing tonight, manifold episodes: supernatural attacks, spells, flareups, wily bouts, excruciating pain, magic, ogre, which had occurred in an instant, but had unnaturally, was erased from his memory. And why was the word, talisman, and another, the word, a name, Samnuk, both had persistently, kept on haunting his thoughts?”  Infuriatingly and for the life of him, he could not recollect.

 

"There you are!"  A familiar voice snapped Nevetsecnuac back from his reverie. "Please excuse my disruption, but His Excellency the Prime Minister was rather quite concerned; he sent me to look for you." Zaur Stugr came towards him apologetically after swiftly climbing the steps.

"He insisted." Zaur stopped and shook his head. "Actually, I wanted to assure myself that you were all right. I do apologize for this intrusion.”

“Seeing that you’re all right; I will leave you now to enjoy this all too brief solitude and to let you return back to your profound thoughts."  He grinned knowingly as if sharing a mischievous secret.

 

Nevetsecnuac avoided Zaur's eyes. "No, please stay and take a seat. As a matter of fact, I wish to inquire as to the outcome of your investigations regarding that most singular key."

"Oh, that thing," Zaur drew closer and informally (casually) sat down at the adjacent (nearby) seat. "I meant to tell you earlier but with all these distractions."  He waved his hand in dismissal then, looking directly at Fradel assumed a hushed, officious tone, "Actually there have been some curious developments, if you can call it that." 

He paused and looked about cautiously, as if to heighten the suspense before he inclined his head and spoke more seriously, "By a strange coincidence we have uncovered, I know you will be most interested to hear this, another gentleman named Yavgen Deny, living right here in the Capital. He is a young sophist philosopher in his twenties and holds a secretarial post to a minor official in the Board of Grain. We had him checked out, naturally, to determine the accuracy of the testimony and found all his claims to be legitimate. Still, there are one or two matters yet to be cleared up." Zaur once again paused for emphasis. Studying Fradel from the corner of his eye he was amused by the slight change of color in Fradel’s cheeks (discoloration, in his pallor), that belied the inner conflict the scholar was attempting to hide.

 

“But I had made up that name.” Nevetsecnuac thought, “Now it seems that I've inadvertently involved an innocent man.”

 

"Come now, you didn't expect that", Zaur held back the word rogue, "person to have confessed his real name to you, did you?"  Zaur good humouredly threw his head back and (chortled) laughed.

Very much relieved, Nevetsecnuac now smiling, nodded. “Right you are. I still have a-lot to learn, about…" He abruptly fell silent and looked away.

"Quite so; " Zaur politely cut in; dispelling (dismissing) further unnecessary embarrassment to his guest.

"My men will nevertheless continue in their ardent investigation and, as the reports come in, I will keep you apprised of any further developments. Just between us, however, I dare confess that this key is proving to be the source of quite profound mystery and I happened to have a particular weakness for this field.”

“It does (somewhat,) alleviate the boredom of my mundane official duties and predictable bureaucracy. Present company exempted (excepted), of course.”  Zaur then seemingly abashed (embarrassed), as if to cover up his supposed, inadvertently professed discontent, quickly changed the topic of conversation and, after a period of discourse covering more harmless subjects (including the one Fradel had prior prevaricated to respond), he rose to take his leave; at which point Fradel also rising, volunteered to return with him.

Back at the party, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) armed with the knowledge, gave his apt diplomatic response when he was again pressed to give his viewpoint; then with certain eloquence, advancing a-number-of logical, indisputable facts (data), he was able to quickly resolve the contentious issues (points) to the satisfaction of all.

                                                                            ~

 

Halfway across the city, after having successfully completed his onerous and disdainful official obligations Lenny Sukzor then had hastened to succinctly apprise Egil Viggoaries of the latest developments. Three hours later Lenny armed with new set of instructions, his face grim and pallid (ashen), being perfunctorily dismissed, closed the door noiselessly behind him.

Egil Viggoaries’s eyes devoid of least mercy, pensively stared at the door for a time then, rising from his seat, slowly walked over to the window. Looking at the outside, the Dark Eunuch gradually sported a sinister wide grin, pleased with the inroads he had been making into the faction of his arch nemesis, the Prime Minister. His clever ploy, according to Lenny’s report, had worked wonderfully thus far. Moreover, this recently acquired (obtained) latest piece of evidence, should seriously undermine all of Lamont Gudaren's efforts to extricate that wretched nephew of his.

“Your days are numbered,” Egil Viggoaries gritted his teeth. “The line is cast. Soon, along with Yekov, I shall snare (net) the prime game.”

 

                                                                            ~

 

 (END OF SECTION 9)