LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 2
For some time now, Egil Viggoaries had employed a heartless,
homicidal surgeon Lubin, one of only two in the whole Wenjenkun who excelled in
the sadistic skill of prolonging the duration of the meted punishment to the
maximum the body would stand. The other one Egil could not touch, for he was
actively in the employ of Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek.
01- SURGEON LUBIN
There had been few precursors to Lubin, but all four had
been abruptly terminated and then discarded by Egil Viggoaries when an
unsatisfactory application of the blade had brought about a hasty end to the
unfortunate victim. Egil Viggoaries was intolerant of least incompetence;
furthermore, he often indulged in tormenting people as it provided him with the
highest form of entertainment, and Lubin was his ringmaster.
Lubin provided Egil Viggoaries with just the right dose of
exhilaration to satisfy his perverse appetite for at least one briefer spell,
before yet again the insatiable hunger (craving) resurfaced in the Dark
Eunuch’s bottomless vile soul. Then the evil savagery and malice would recap
(repeat) all over again.
Zhadol Borym had never once in those abhorred compulsory
(obligatory) episodes, where he had born witness to Lubin’s savagery, expected
to be the next prey (target). Each time he hardened his heart, being so coerced
and therefore believed (was sure), that those faceless phantom brutes, the
barely human forms, were well deserving of such penalty. Nevertheless, and this
he would never admit to anyone, his misled warrior’s conscience (scruples) and
tempered soul still had to be forcefully willed to a distant, way faraway
place, before he could stomach
(tolerate) the unfolding scene before his very eyes: Lubin in each case, had
wielded the blade skillfully as if skinning a fish, ensuing days and weeks he
would then painstakingly (meticulously) cut away, each strip, leaving only a
jumbled mass of nerves to collect and transmit black ropes of pain that pulsed
through, with fading life; all the while ensuring that the victim did not
prematurely expire until the very end of this tortuous ordeal.
Zhadol at present shuddered involuntarily, as he could not
shut out the parade of gruesome images from his mind's eye; mindful of the
fact, that Lubin's expert application of the razor-sharp scalpel (surgical
knife) would soon be poised on his (Zadol’s) very flesh. He furtively glanced
once more at Egil Viggoaries. The Eunuch's face was dark, and his jaw firmly
set. But what had seemed like an
eternity to Zhadol Borym had in truth, been only a few minutes.
“Was this the fate Egil Viggoaries
had planned for him all along? No! He could not meekly accept such an
ignominious punishment... He must contest this vile verdict! “
Commander Zhadol rising to his feet, menacingly stepped
forward but was instantly jerked back, as the chain about his neck was
viciously yanked by one of his guards. His steadfast resistance only resulted
in the metal biting deeper into his existing wounds. Blood oozed freely out
from the corrugated scabs layered atop his blistered flesh. Undeterred Zhadol
Borym stayed his ground, looking defiantly up at Egil Viggoaries, his eyes
burrowing ferociously into Dark Eunuch’s, he then in resounding voice, loudly challenged
him to one-on one personal combat; this was his right, Egil owed him this more
befitting a warrior’s end, and that he refused to accept nothing (short)
less.
“Still, no reaction; all right then,
he will defy Egil by other means. Pending something better, he would goad (provoke) the Dark Eunuch using
insolent words.”
"You stupid fool!" Egil Viggoaries beat him to the
punch however, as he abruptly just then, exploded in a bark. Then rising
slowly, he menacingly approached Zhadol Borym until he was only but a hairline
away. His right fist clenched, poised to strike. He glowered at his former
Commander and then spat contemptuously into his face. "Even now you remain
ignorant of your true crime." He
turned and gave a swift, brutal kick to Yennic's head. Stunned, Yennic fell
backwards, blood spurting from the deep gash on his scalp.
Egil Viggoaries’s head snapped back and pressed his face
right up against Zhadol Borym's. Gritting his teeth and pointing the accusing
finger down at the huddled mass on the floor, Egil Viggoaries spat out the
incredible words Zhadol Borym wished he would never live to hear.
 |
| 02- EGIL VIGGORIES 11- JP |
“You disgust me; for you were played all along; your strings
were jerked, like a despicable puppet, by this wretched, insignificant
maggot!" Egil Biggoaries gave a
derisive snort and once more violently kicked Yennic Zhiborym hard with the
back of his heel just for the sport of it.
The Dark Eunuch then swung back to Zhadol and rasped,
"Your abject weakness sickens (nauseate) me!" Egil with a disdain
spat on the ground and haughtily turned his back to his long-time friend
Zhadol. His steps thereafter with deliberate slowness mounted the platform, and
he returned to his seat.
Aghast, Zhadol Borym turned his questioning gaze sideways
and looked down at Yennic Zhiborym slouched (curled, doubled over) on the
ground, then, tilting his head upwards to face Egil Viggoaries, he indignantly
demanded, "This is nothing more than a dastardly plot to discredit me. I
know it is! State clearly the crime
which I am truly accused of!
Furthermore, I challenge you to muster any proof which would
substantiate your implicit (roundabout) claim? False confessions extracted
under duress and torture does not count!”
"Proof," Egil
Viggoaries’s thundering bark shook the room.
"He wants proof." Dark Eunuch addressed the
assembly after a derisive laugh.
"Proof."
Repeating the word third time, at first thoughtfully, then stone faced, Egil
Viggoaries reverted his venomous eyes to rest for a time on Yennic Zhiborym,
before turning it back again on Zhadol.
Egil’s face then surprisingly placid (calm); lips formed an
eerie, menacing smile. "I had wanted to spare you ignominy (this terrible
disgrace, shame), but proof you asked for and proof you shall have." He shrugged then leaned back and motioned to
a guard waiting by the door.
Zhadol Borym's heart filled with apprehension at that
instant with what he might hear. He swallowed dryly; his stomach suddenly
tightened into a hard knot; but now it was too late to stop it. The guard had
already re-entered leading two members belonging to the “Wraiths” division of
Black Molochs. These incorruptible eunuchs, clad in black and wearing face
masks to hide their identity, were most proficient at gathering evidence. They came forward quickly and abruptly
halting before Egil
Viggoaries, reverently bowed to him. Such was their status
that they were answerable only to the Leader of the Order. From their preamble
it turned out that, for some time now, Yennic Zhiborym had been kept under
close surveillance. His every word,
action, and habitual need, however insignificant, had been routinely and
meticulously documented in the minutest detail. In the interest of brevity,
however, Egil Viggoaries ordered them to summarize their findings.
The spokesperson for the two then recounted the high points,
most of which proved extremely embarrassing for Zhadol Borym. In a very brief time they presented
overwhelming evidence, far beyond any possibility of doubt, that Yennic
Zhiborym was an informant for the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s Office.
However distasteful, Yennic's heinous designs, and Zhadol’s unwitting part in
them, were all exposed.
What is more ignominious to Zhadol Borym was that Yennic's
inextricable link to the sabotage of one specific case. This assignment had
gone terribly awry and had cost the lives of nine Black Molochs 's most
competent men, among whom had been Zhadol 's only living relative, a distant
cousin.
At this point Egil Viggoaries lifted his hand and stopped
the report. "You want more culpable (chargeable) proof?"
Zhadol Borym ruefully (repentantly) looked down, "No,
I've heard enough."
He heaved a dejected sigh, now resigned to his fate. He so
absolutely (thoroughly) regretted his past foolhardy ways with Yennic
Zhiborym. Zadol’s shame being far too
great, he could no longer lift his head to look at his fellow members. More
infuriating still, was the way he had been duped by Yennic and utilized to, in
betraying the Order. The love he had
once felt for Yennic Zhiborym had suddenly got supplanted with pure, unadulterated
odium (abhorrence, loathing). Fire raged
through his limbs now, as he stared belligerently down at this despicable
spy. If his hands were free, he would
have violently torn Yennic limb from limb, and then plugging his heart from his
cursed chest, just eaten it raw; however, curbing his fury Zhadol with certain
resignation uttered, “Then my allotted punishment is too lenient; I deserve far
worse for being so inept.”
The members of the Inner Circle (of Black Molochs) were appalled at first but now disappointment was starkly written on all their faces, as their piercing, harsh gazes silently remonstrated with Zhadol Borym.
“You had so utterly failed us, failed the Order. You deserve this cruelest end!”
03- IRATE BLACK MOLOCK AFFILIATES
Egil Viggoaries nodded and grinned; quite satisfied with the
effects of his theatrics. He’d
anticipated that there might have been some of the Inner Circle who, if they
had dared at all, would have debated against his decision to terminate Zhadol
Borym in that way; one who, with that sleek tongue of his, would have argued
that Zhadol was in his prime, just shy of twenty-eight years of age and was as
yet a formidable fighter, still an asset to the Order.
“Now they’re precisely where, I’d
wished them to be.”
Egil Viggoaries had bridled his temper just long enough to
reaffirm his otherwise indubitable, absolute judgment. Now no one in the
assembly would dare express the least objection (discontentment) with his next,
more arduous agenda (plan, course of action).
Zhadol Borym, well, he was only a lateral casualty. It mattered little
to Egil that he had used his long-time friend Zhadol heartlessly as sure bait,
knowing full well his weakness and habitual response.
Egil Viggoaries now laughed sourly and gave a slight gesture
to the guards with his chin.
Dispassionately he watched the bloodied backs of Zhadol and
Yennic as they were dragged outside, never to be seen again.
~
Egil Viggoaries could have arranged for Zhadol Borym to have
a less painful way out; certain drugs which numbed the senses instead of
Lubin's usual medicines which enhanced the suffering.
“Why should I? No,”
Despite what Zhadol had once meant to him, how much he had
done for him. Despite all the daunting images from the past, Egil Viggoaries
remained firm in his resolve. He could not allow his hardened heart to dispense
least charity; he could not weaken his doggedness (determination) nor feel
least compassion for his once intimate companion. Zhadol Borym meant less than nothing to him
now, especially since he had been growing too arrogant of late. At least now he
was rid of Zhadol's irksome and sanctimonious presence once and for all, before
the so-called friend became more of a problem.
Egil closed his eyes,
quite angry with himself for this sudden, unexpected twinge of conscience. Why was he now second guessing his earlier
resolve; had it been Zhadol’s last look that brought this unexpected rush of
feelings he had thought long erased (dismissed)? Zhadol Borym was pegged
(marked) to be terminated, and that was that!
Vindictiveness, in
Black Molochs ... he was above such ignoble emotions. Egil Viggoaries lied
to himself, only to have another thought gnaw at him unexpectedly.
True enough, if Zhadol had wanted to, he could have made good for his
escape, reinforcements, or no reinforcements. Of course, he would have
inevitably been hunted down and apprehended, but not before he cost the Order
(organization) a dire toll in both manpower (loss of men) and resources. With
his competence, it was inconceivable to think that Zhadol, one day, be so
gulled, so completely taken in by the likes of Yennic Zhiborym. And why had he
surrendered so easily?
He had deep affections
for Yennic…Was that it? Had that fool allowed his capture solely to appeal to
the other’s case or die with him? If
that was his reason, then he certainly deserved his ignominious end. He deserved
to perish, if for no other (reason) bases than that most contemptable, of
weakness. Egil Viggoaries inwardly scoffed, overlooking the fact that he’d
so many years been the recipient of that very akin sentiment; those tender,
affectionate means and deeds that had filled in the void and warmed the
otherwise cold, unfeeling crux of his being. Again, he lied to himself,
entertaining the thought that, fortunately, he was above all that. He had no use presently, for such a base,
useless emotion, at all.
Egil Viggoaries again hard-heartedly shrugged and turned his
thoughts to another. In the next week or
two he will be initiating his recent recruit, Yuchemos Mantus, into the ranks
of the Inner Circle.
04- YUCHEMOS MANTUS
Yuchemos Mantus,
showed real promise, and what is more, he had already subtly ingratiated
himself into the good graces of both Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek and Prime
Minister Lamont Gudaren. Egil Viggoaries
smirked, reflecting on the fact Yuchemos was the sole male offspring of,
Demarco Mantus, head of the most influential family in Channing; hence,
strategically placed, he would be most beneficial in fulfilling his (Egil
Viggoaries’s) ultimate ambition.
~
In the dark subterranean dungeons below, where the air was
permanently rancid, and lichen (moss, fungus and mold) grew on the moist stone
walls, Zhadol Borym that night had endured without a whimper the first measure
of his punishment, and he had braced himself for the worst torment yet to ensue
during the small hours of the same night. The surgeon had left his sight
temporarily for repast, with his ghastly, lurid grin and a vicious promise to
return and resume later with his special application, one specifically designed
for Zhadol, whom he would administer, with definite zeal.
No one, certainly not Zhadol Borym, had ever hoped or
anticipated, the stray element (conduit), the mercifully unexpected reprieve
from his ignominious end; this, by another powerful faction, the covert
brotherhood of Kozurs, that dared to execute the impossible feat (brazen
exploit, stunt).
Nevertheless, this daring rescue had compounded
ramifications; consequently, Egil Viggoaries would never cease (stop) his
relentless hunt. Therefore, Zhadol’s Borym’s demise had to be staged so
expertly that it would not warrant the Dark Eunuch’s least suspicion.
In the aftermath of devastating explosions and the resulting
seismic tremors, that had rocked the subterranean dungeons in the core capital
Channing – that of which had completely obliterated (decimated) the cell which
Zhadol Borym had been shackled to on the table, as well, destroyed the perimeter (vicinity) cells
around and above, all of it buried in ashen rubble- it its wake it had created
a deep cavernous (yawning, gaping) sinkhole.
Unavoidably, many prisoners and captives’ lives (those in
surrounding dungeons) had also (been lost) expired due to the devastating
impact of the explosion. Though this could be deemed more an act of clemency to
those already lost souls, awaiting interminable (unending) mortifying
tortures.
This breach, naturally instigated (provoked) serious inquiry
(examination) by all major factions, including Sovereign Zakhertan’s Black Band
Guard (and the shadow Brigade); however, the results (conclusions) all
pinpointed to a catastrophic yet bizarre accident, indubitably a fortuity/a
fluke happenstance, by a carelessly positioned volatile element which had beget
that catastrophic blasts.
Even subsequent month’s ardent investigations, by the
persistent few, still failed to prove otherwise, failed to expose this expertly
conceived strike... The details of which had been covertly finalized during the
Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s party given in
honor of Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. During the time, which Nevetsecnuac had
sought refuge and by capricious fate, had chanced on Zaur Stugr and Lenny
Sukzor, that memorable night, in the secluded part of the garden.
Zhadol Borym’s close friends and affiliates were of course
stealthily (privately) elated at this outcome, the quick and more humane
(lenient) demise of a well esteemed, brave Commander Zhadol, deeming it a mercy
of Heaven; for in truth Zhadol was well liked and, he had a quality about him
that fostered (beget) intrinsic and lasting loyalty (comradery and devotion)
among his men.
The Dark Eunuch’s
fury, meanwhile, had still demanded blood and so, during ensuing days besides
the copious wretched prisoners, many hapless prison-guards that had been on
duty that night, and had the misfortune to survive the blasts, had paid for
their incompetence (ineptness) and the resulting breach, of the deemed
impenetrable prison.
Eventually things had died down, especially after the
ongoing excavations, had produced (unearthed
(dug up, retrieved) several small pieces (fragments) of
Zhadol Boerym’s supposed charred remains (corpse) with irrefutable,
identifiable markers. These (presented in a box) brought before the still
incensed Egil Viggoaries, had finally alleviated (eased) his suspicious and
demanding nature.
~
(END OF SECTION 2)
