LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 1

It seemed as if an immeasurable time had passed, since Nevetsecnuac had forged ahead towards Lord Shonne Gulbrand's province that lay on route to the Capital. 

All through his travels and encounters Nevetsecnuac noted the prevailing and encompassing currents of fear and despair that emanated from the perpetual clampdown on the population.  It was heart wrenching to observe the already ravaged individuals striving to survive under the tyrannical rule of the oppressive bureaucrats and their minions, who imposed impossibly burdensome taxes, conscript labor and military service on all.

 What was worse was the disheartening lack of backbone, never mind the least hope for a spark of rebellion or the smallest inkling of any insurgency rising from the piled ashes of these enslaved masses. 

The option of capitulating, however, was not in Nevetsecnuac’s vocabulary…. And could not be so! Resolutely therefore Nevetsecnuac had consoled himself through it all, reflecting on the indomitable spirit of the Wenjenkun nation and the invincible fabric that had once forged this great nation, hoping against hope that it will do so yet again under the right circumstance and leadership, perhaps in five if not in eight year’s time.

                                                                            ~

Alas, Heng Erling, by his action of luring Nevetsecnuac prematurely from his safe mountain abode had irrevocably altered the course of Wenjenkun’s History.

                                                                              ~

It so happens that bad weather particularly downpours have their own surprising advantages. One of which is, when torrential rains ruthlessly pelt the inhabitants no one, including heavily armed guards manning the gates at border provinces, be in any mood to be fastidious or vigilant.  And so, on such a dismal afternoon, Nevetsecnuac properly disguised, blended right in with a returning group of merchants and their servants leading their heavily laden carts with varied goods, passing right through, without least trouble, the first two checkpoints.

The long caravan (Nevetsecnuec was in) later still halted before the iron gates and waited for the prompt dispensing of the customary bribe by the group’s leader before passing unimpeded this and the final checkpoint and entered the territory of Gulbrand province.  As dusk was quickly approaching, the group picked up momentum and hastened along the dirt road towards the nearest habitation.

Nevetsecnuac inconspicuously separating (at this point) from the pack, arrived at a modest inn at the outskirts of the village. Checking into a room and ordering simple fare, he made discreet inquiries about the state of affairs in Moulon.

The fact that Gulbrand’s name was shunned, however, confirmed Nevetsecnuac’s worst fears about the Lord’s fate. To his added dismay he learned that the province’s current ruling tyrant bore the name Shouzi Yozdek.

On the third day there was finally a welcome reprieve from the persistent deluge.  Settling his account, Nevetsecnuac quickly retrieved his horse from the stables and led him by the reins to negotiate the winding, narrow gravel path that eventually led to the outlying fields. The mid-day sun’s golden rays, streaming from the cerulean sky free of any clouds, now bathed the fields with the last remnants of a harvest resting in haystacks.  It should have been a heartwarming scene but here as well, Nevetsecnuac noted the bitter oppression that seemed permanently etched on the solemn, miserable faces of the peasants bending over toiling the land which they will do from sunup to sunset. 

A few days later when Nevetsecnuac, riding his horse rounded an extended hill, he observed in a vast clearing the most surprising scene. There in the distance was a most extraordinary, fortified, affluent border town, with high, gleaming golden towers and imposing tall gates. Access to it could only be gained through a drawbridge constructed over a deep moat.  Though reason told him to bypass this provincial town, something else compelled him to urge his horse towards it.  Perhaps it was a sense of justice and duty that compelled him to find out the fate of Lord Shonne Gulbrand or at least determine where the Lord's remains now rested so that he could pay his final respects and offer sacrifices and prayers to the benevolent Lord's soul.

Eventually the narrow path he was following converged with other better traveled roads to become a major highway leading to the hub.  Just on the outskirts of the town however, before reaching the moat, some roads veered towards several inns of various sizes that were nestled in a sparsely wooded area.  From these establishments lively sounds and appetizing aromas assailed the travelers' ears and noses, inviting them inside. 

Unlike so many of his counterparts, Nevetsecnuac chose a respectable one, rented a room and entrusted his horse to the custody of the stable hands.  Foregoing his meal in his eager anticipation, he then left the premises on foot and blended in with the crowd streaming into the town through the eastern gate just before dusk. 

This being the Day of the Spirits, he found most of the streets thronging with people and carriages.  The clamor of their voices mingled with the din of the procession.  Locals, clothed in their brightly colored garments, carrying lamps and offerings to their dead were flooding into the temples, lit up like day, where invocations and prayers were being offered.

Trying to be inconspicuous, Nevetsecnuac moved to one of the less crowded temples to pay his respects to the dead.  Dispensing money in a bowl, he took some candles and offerings and placed them on the altar of the God of the underworld, Yaskur.  Kneeling, he then prayed for the souls of those long departed.

Suddenly his prayers were rudely interrupted by a rowdy bunch of eight provincial constables.  Disregarding the sanctity of the place, they had burst into the large hall and, in their inebriated state, surrounded a local merchant and began rising wild pandemonium.  The bullied merchant, trembling on his knees, with pearls of perspiration dripping from his forehead, pleaded his case as to why he was late with his promised bribe and offered to make amends to them.

"Too late for that now.” one scoffed, glowering at the poor, petrified merchant who was in the throes of explaining circumstances that had prevented the prompt delivery.

"How would it look if we made an exception?" The brute constable pinned his venomous eyes on the merchant and gnashed his teeth.

"Your crime is unpardonable!" a third bellowed, pushing his way to the front.  "Imagine, trying to hide in here!"

"Bind him.  You should be taught a lesson.” The group's leader (standing apart from the group) icily ejected his command.

"Have mercy!” the old shopkeeper pleaded with his throat constricting, shedding tears.  "This is the Night of the Spirits!  You know my word is good.  I will deliver as I’ve promised.  I will even surpass the difference; consider it a bonus for the trouble I've caused!  Honest, I wasn't going to run away!  I really, really lack the means now.  Just give me one more day…."  A furious slap just then across the merchant’s face silenced the old man.

"Shut up, squealing pig!  We've already been to your house." The deputy grabbed the merchant by the hair next, and spit into his face.

When the old priest rushed to intervene, he was shoved back so violently that he flew across the room, crashing into the far corner.

Biting his lip, Nevetsecnuac rushed to help the bruised and dizzy priest to his feet.  "Are you all right, Venerable Sir?” he whispered. 

“I’m all right, only my pride is bruised” The old priest nodded then casting a cautionary look at the other priests congregating in opposite corner. He shook his head as if to say to them, “Stay out of this and do nothing”. In response they lowered their heads and averted all eyes as they remained woodenly livid with a flush of crimson gradually overtaking their sallow cheeks.

Nevetsecnuac’s disciplined mind going against his innate response had also quickly checked his own outrage for it would not do for him, particularly at this juncture, to draw unwarranted attention by interfering.

The locals in the hall meanwhile had remained huddled together with ghostly faces and trembling in fear.  The one or two defiant young souls that strove to escape this dangerous circumstance drew instead the wrath of the irate constables.  In mid flight both were tripped, fell then were violently kicked and roundly abused. Bloodied and bruised they crawled to the safety of a dark corner.               

Another of the stout constables in the interim had taken up post in front of the door barring any possible exit. He now hollered to command attention, "No one is allowed to leave here 'till we're done.  You are all witnesses to his crime.” He pointed at the bloodied merchant that was still pinned down.   “Does he, or does he not deserve the severe hand of the law, I say a beating he’s received is not good enough!”

A forced murmur of assent reverberated in the temple, and the large hall seemed suddenly, suffocating, and small.

Nevetsecnuac's face flushed.  Unable to bear it any longer, he was about to step forward to give challenge when he felt his vest being tugged, holding him back.

Turning, he saw an elderly beggar in tattered, patched clothes flashing him a warning look from a face scored with wrinkles and scars.  Half hidden in the shadows, he whispered, "Don't be a fool!” in a pressing tone.

 Just then, another ten constables swarmed in, creating a greater panic in the temple.  The poor merchant was dragged outside, kicking and squealing like a pig being taken to the slaughterhouse.

"He's done for.", exclaimed a trembling voice beside Nevetsecnuac.

"We won't see him alive again, poor soul!” the distraught priest mournfully added as he walked away to join his fellows.

No sooner had the swarm of constables gone than the crowd in the temple hall, forsaking their purpose for being there, jostled to the door and disappeared in a flash.  The sounds outside grew quickly muted and then silence prevailed.

"What was his great crime?” Nevetsecnuac turned to ask the beggar, still crouched in the dark corner.

The beggar checked to see that they were the only souls that had remained on the scene then scoffed, "Crime?  He was only guilty of shortchanging his extortion payment.  Poor man, only yesterday he buried his wife.  He must have exhausted all his funds on her funeral."

 He rose to his feet.  Shaking his head in resignation he added, "This sort of bullying goes on unchecked all the time- best that we, too, disappear before more trouble follows."

Blocking the beggar's way, Nevetsecnuac bowed respectfully, introduced himself as "Svein" and thanked the beggar for his help in keeping him from potential disaster.  Unaccustomed to receiving kind greetings much less kind words, the beggar just shrugged off Nevetsecnuac's thanks.  But remaining on the spot the beggar squinted at Svein, curiously appraising his face and fine clothes.  Convinced of the younger man's sincerity and honesty, he then returned the greetings and introduced himself as Lu Moldan.

You must be a stranger to these parts.  Yes, you have traveled from far; Lu grasped at the truth without voicing his inner queries.

   "I don't mean to be singing my own praises but, sir; your intended action could have landed you in serious trouble.  You could have lost your life or worse, been imprisoned, severely beaten then tortured to death.  They would not have been as lenient with you as they were with Father Zuri.  We all know that these bastards travel in large groups, and that it was just a matter of time before the reinforcements showed up.  How else do you think they find the courage to carry out their lawlessness and vile acts?"

"But what of the lasting repercussions of law and order, surely there exists, some measure of accountability within the system, however corrupt?” The naïve and sanguine notion escaped Svein’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) lips before it could be curtailed.

"What law?  What order?"  Lu threw his head back with a guffaw.  "All officials, high and low are corrupt!  Where do you suppose all their illegal confiscations end up?  Are you kidding me?!!” He chortled; but then seeing Svein's flushed face, he softened, "You must have just arrived here son and that explains it."  The Beggar Lu in half disbelief (with some skepticism) studied this idealistic youth (Svein) more acutely before voicing his query, which he then quickly answered.  “You are from far, far away… the furthest rim, yes?” He nodded. "Well, this may not be the frontier, but, believe me, the situation is far worse here.  It has been that way for the last twelve, or is it fifteen, long, long excruciating years?”

“It’s been absolute hell for all who are living here… if it could be called that!  The corruption is so rampant, so imbedded in the provincial government that...  Ay!!!!” He waved a hand. “But then you must be wondering why endure such hardships, why not look for a better existence elsewhere.  Ah, but the poverty chains are so entrenched!” He shrugged.

“And so, we endure, wallow or lurch would be a more precise word, this trapped state being no better off than scavenging rats.  But you, you're a visitor and you must not linger here any longer than necessary.  Heed these words if you do not scorn my poverty: Trust no one.  Do not believe in anything you hear or see.  Conclude your business and be on your way as soon as you are able, that is if you do not wish to leave your head behind, on the executioner's block.  Of course I need not warn you about the constables."

"I'm most grateful for your concern, sir, and I will definitely heed your good counsel."  Svein (Nevetsecnuac) bowed with thanks then, after a moment's hesitation added, "As you are so kind as to trouble yourself with a mere stranger's well being, sir, may I impose further on your goodwill with a query?"

"Please do."

"Sir, my purpose in coming to this province has been to seek out Lord Shonne Gulbrand's burial place in order to pay my respects to the great Lord.  May I therefore..."

"What burial place?” the beggar snapped.  "There's no such thing."  Shaking his head in anger he laughed coldly and walked away a few steps.  Then he stopped, turned and scrutinized Svein's face.  He wanted very much to ask why one as young as Svein and an obvious stranger should be so concerned with the late Lord’s eventual resting place.  Instead, he said indignantly, "Your search would be in vain.  Even Lord Shonne Gulbrand's Centuries old ancestral burial plots, after surviving the ravages of time, had been vilely desecrated and obliterated into heaps of dust.  Nothing, nothing at all remains of his legacy, his family or his name.  Even his wife, sister to the emperor, has perished long, long time ago.  They are all gone, all without exception."

06- LU MOLDAN

Lu abruptly paused. Though he knew he was alone with Svein, his eyes still fearfully scanned the immediate perimeter before resuming in a hushed voice, "If that's your only purpose in coming here, son, you had best be on your way."  Lowering his grim face, he turned once more to go but, on reflection he stopped and, looking back, imparted his last words of advice to Svein, "Besides, it’s far too dangerous for you to be asking such questions around here, even after this length of time.  Now, leave well enough alone and be gone from this misbegotten province."  He clasped his stomach as pangs of hunger had stabbed at him just then.  Subsequently distracted, he turned quickly and hurried away.

"Oh, blasted hunger!” Nevetsecnuac faintly heard Lu swear to himself as he was drifting into the shadows. 

“What sacrilege!” Nevetsecnuac fumed thinking of Lord Shonne Gulbrand’s fate.  Then his thoughts turned to the beggar Lu, “An intriguing individual!” He mused.  “I'm certain he knows far more than he's letting on.  I wonder what relationship he bore to the late Lord to warrant such enduring loyalty.” Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried next, mindful of the heart’s fiery passion that the beggar’s tone could not conceal. 

 Nevetsecnuac then quickly made up his mind. "Please wait up, sir!"  He rushed after Lu.

 For an old man the beggar had moved with the agility of a wildcat and, within seconds, had disappeared from view.  Veering round the corner Nevetsecnuac with his prowess quickly caught up with the beggar in a deserted alleyway. 

Laying a gentle hand on Lu's shoulder, he said, "Sir, I would be most honored if you would consent to dine with me.  I have not eaten a meal for quite some time; furthermore, I would be most appreciative of good company."

Tears of gratitude pricked Lu's eyes once he overcame his surprise, for he had not been treated with such kindness, such respect since the time when...it was so long ago he could barely recollect.  Averse to leaving this region, he had taken various odd jobs that others found too detestable or too hard to do.  With these skimpy earnings he had managed to carve out a meager existence in the past but, of late, he had found no such opportunities.  There were more desperate and fit workers than there were jobs.

His gaze shamefully fell on his own tattered and soiled clothes.  If the truth be known, his Lips had not touched a single grain of rice or even millet for the last three days, but he was too righteous to steal or beg.  Not that it would have done any good. Because of the recent set of adversities, even the pious that streamed into town at this festival period, had remained tight pursed.  

 Today of all days his despondency had finally driven him into the temple with the purpose of borrowing some of the offerings but, once there, he had relented on his planned sacrilege and had, just moments before the disturbance occurred, quietly resigned himself to death from starvation.  An invitation to dinner was a good fortune he had not dreamt of, although he understood well enough Svein's motive in wanting his company. 

Still, for the price of a small bowl of gruel, what Svein wanted could be given freely; there was no need for such generosity.

Could this be a ruse to entrap him? He mused.  Spies were planted everywhere as a rule, sending scores to the gallows every month.  But why would they bother with him after all this time and on such a night? He pondered.

 It might have been different once, but not now. He was too old and feeble to merit any fuss let alone the expense of a trial.  Assassins abound, they would have simply snuffed out his miserable Life long ago in some dark alley and be done with him.

A Dinner, well then with his Life so burdened with hardships, why should he fear death any longer? Besides this being the Spirits night, in this late an hour many would be too terrified of repercussions from avenging ghosts wondering about, to venture outside of the safety of their confines.  Hmm that also presented another difficulty, as many eating establishments would have long since been closed.  All except that one place at the outskirts of the …… Hm… So resolved Lu met Svein's eyes and nodded, "Sir, I would be most happy to oblige but, in all fairness, I must ask you to consider carefully what you are proposing."

Svein was adamant.

"Very well then, I will take us to a place where even Lord Yozdek's Militia would not dare show their faces.  Still, it may be a trifle costly.” Lu added, hemming and hawing.

"You are shaming me, sir, with such talk of money.” Svein responded.  "Let us be on our way without further ado."

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

                                                                                     ~

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 13

lEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 13

Asger (Stark), after a restless night’s sleep (repose), just before dawn quietly rose from his bed and after dressing exited the room. The last hot pot of Alec’s tea had been spiked, Asger knew that Alec would be dead to the world till noon, which gave them plenty of time to prepare.

Advancing, he quietly tapped at Svein’s door, then going over sat at his usual place by the fire.

Svein, anticipating his uncle’s desire, emerged outside shortly after, properly dressed and most eager to hear what Stark (Asger) had to say.

Stroking his beard with a thoughtful air, Asger signaled Svein to the chair before him.

"Svein, circumstances dictate that I now be frank with you. I am therefore well prepared to disclose all secrets, mysteries and unveil all truths that had until now, been kept from you.”  So saying, Asger rising, pseudo straitened (the creases of) his garments then abruptly falling on his knees, prostrated himself and addressing Svein in most dignified voice, proclaimed, "I, Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, Son of Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon hereby pay my respects to Your Royal Highness, sole surviving true Heir to the Throne of Wenjenkun, Prince Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir , may you live long and prosper!"

Nevetsecnuac, quickly overcoming his surprise, hastily stooped to raise his maternal uncle to his feet, “Please rise uncle, I should be bowing to you!”

When eventually, on Nevetsecnuac's insistence, the two finally regained their respective seats, the prince, in sincere and respectful tone, urged Lord Asger not to endow him with such honors.  "After twenty years of being nurtured and mentored (guided), living under your unstinting care as your nephew, I would be imbued in shame to my very core if I were to now receive your obsequies.  Please, Uncle, treat me as you always have.  Allow me the privilege of serving you, as your’ most grateful and devoted nephew. And please address me only by my name without the onerous title- a most undesirable and unwarranted feat (endeavor) at this remote milieu.”

Nevetsecnuac looked down as emotions choked the rest of his words; after brief, thoughtful reflection, he simply shook his head and said: “I can only guess at the enormity of sacrifices and long suffering you have endured on my behalf.  My only regret is that I have but one lifetime in which to repay your kindness."

Deeply touched by Nevetsecnuac's show of love and humility, Asger looked away, constraining   any expression of the intense and therefore inappropriate emotions from bursting forth; then perfectly composed, he leaned forward and affectionately placed his hand on Nevetsecnuac's shoulder. 

Nevetsecnuac in turn, looked up at him with eyes brimming with tears of gratitude mingling with affection and said: "Uncle, I am anxious to hear all, particularly the circumstances, of how and why I alone, have survived my immediate family's tragic fate?”

“Yes, the time has come for you to be apprised of it all.” Asger, nodding thoughtfully, acquiesced.  “Hmm, but I shall do my utmost, through tact, to spare you the worse of it, my dear boy, while imparting succinctly, all the pertinent details.”

 He then smoked his pipe for a spell as he deliberated on how best to begin. Every word had to be chosen with care to minimize (and not burgeon) the angst that was already tearing at Nevetsecnuac's heart and soul.

The following narrated data (recounted facts) oscillated naturally between past and present and in this gentle, yet somber tone Nevetsecnuac was informed of his true heritage:

That he was the only offspring of the 7th Prince Shon Alric Therran Valamir and Ingrit, the adapted daughter of Lord Wutenzar Zhon.  When Asger was ten years old, she’d become Asger’s loving little sister, a girl child of about six years old, who’d suffered abduction and amnesia at the age of five. The frail female child had been rescued from the clutches of death, just barely, one stormy afternoon, by Lord Wutenzar Zhon, while he was on his way to visit a close friend (a blood-brother), keen to oversee (manage) an urgent matter, in Korion.  She’d later been named Ingrit and lawfully adapted by Asger’s Lord father, when despite year’s intense investigation, her true lineage had remained a mystery. Asger thus, was not Nevetsecnuac’s (Svein’s) biological maternal uncle.

When Ingrit grew up and was 17 years old, by then an exquisite beauty, during an annual Royal hunting expedition, as the two children had accompanied Lord Zhon, she’d caught the eye of Prince Shon and the two had fallen deeply in love. A few years later, overcoming many obstacles, the loving pair had been happily married off and a year and a half later, they had Nevetsecnuac (Svein).

Asger then proceeded to relay succinctly, the subsequent, true version of state affairs at the time (politics), which had adversely shaped Nevetsecnuac’s benevolent grandfather's reign and instigated (caused) the altruistic (humane) Monarch's downfall.

"First there were the prolonged wars, lasting over a decade, with powerful neighbors like Julge to the north, Tunesar in the north-east, and Senje in the east. 

Then the cataclysmic natural disasters came to pass: the powerful earthquakes that leveled whole towns to rubble and floods that ravaged the river plains.  The already tottering economy was devastated, and the strength of the central government was greatly taxed.”

“This precarious time had, meanwhile, further empowered the rising influence of Grand Field Marshal Zakhertan  Yozdek , who’d lead an army of several million on successful campaigns against Julge and Tunesar and by doing so, restored our lost territories and pushed them back to more natural borders.  Zakhertan next had marched his army straight to Senje and annexed that kingdom.  The tribute and booty from these campaigns strengthened the treasury for a time and in due course augmented Field Marshal’s own popularity with both the people and the court.” Asger took a puff from his pipe, before resuming.

"In Imperial Capital Channing, the Inner Chancery, which was charged with the responsibility of presenting policy options to His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, was gradually taken over by the Yozdek aristocracy with the full support of Prime Minister Morvald and Grand Secretary Lu Therkan.   His Higness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir was gradually by then relegated to the status of a mere figurehead; lending an ear to rumors (false or fabricated accounts) he was opportunely alienated even from the Crown Prince Langley.  Prince Langley was well loved by the people and his peers; he was an upright, brilliant tactician and a fine warrior. Because of his sagacity (shrewdness) and farsightedness, he posed a real danger to the ambitious Yozdek clan. Time being ripe, Yozdek faction decided to first illuminate this threat; before they instigated their bold action and worked to underhandedly gain effective control of Wenjenkun .”

"At the time Crown Prince Langley, who excelled in archery and was very fond of hunting, whenever his responsibilities allowed him, he with a group of loyal childhood friends, I would say, two or three times a year, held an affable competition of hunt at the Royal Game Preserve (forested, high-altitude ambit, sphere, sanctuary) on the outskirts of the city. “

02- CROWN PRINCE LANGLEY

 On that fateful day, during the hunting trip, after having spotted a rare white stag, Prince Langley took off after it (in lightning speed) in full gallop, leaving the rest of the riders far behind, who had no hope of matching the speed of his fine stallion. “

“Now come to think of it, I believe Fourth Prince Ruen was among the party that day.  Nevertheless, when the stag dove into the depths of dense woodland, Prince Langley recklessly led his horse after him in hot pursuit.  By the time the rest of the hunting party reached the prince, they were horrified to discover him gasping his last breath, mumbling something about a huge snake raining   down on him, his head lying in a pool of blood and a trampled adder nearby testifying as to the events.  It was presumed that his frightened mount had bolted detecting the snake slithering on one of the branches overhead and had thrown the prince onto the sharp-edged rocks which littered the area.”

“Suspecting foul play some ardent friends (and courtiers) stayed behind to meticulously search the area, in the hope of collecting incriminating evidence or finding the culprit; but their concerted efforts provided them with only a torn piece of homespun cotton that inevitably led to nowhere.”

"The untimely death of the heir apparent consigned the aging Monarch to his bed, stricken with a malady of the heart.  Rumors circulated at the time claimed that His Highness' affliction was, in fact, induced by his own physicians, under the coercion of the Prime Minister."

"The Prime Minister Morvald that had been colluding with the Yozdek faction....  It is clear who’d been behind that scheme.” Nevetsecnuac grumbled.

Asger nodded thoughtfully. “You would think so, but certain findings later, rumors really, cast the suspicion on Third Prince Vidar instead.  Some claimed he was also involved in the conspiracy against the Crown Prince.  He apparently was under the assumption that he would be next in line to ascend to the throne."

 After clearing his throat Asger once more commenced with his narrative.  "Zakhertan  Yozdek, a national hero, returning from his victories with the borders secured and more lands added to the kingdom Wenjenkun, took advantage of the Monarch's indisposition and, relying on his immense popularity, laid siege to the Capital.  Moments after His Highness, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir passed away, while the Royal Family was still in shock and mourning by his bedside, Zakhertan  Yozdek marched unopposed into the palace and seized the throne.” 

03- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEK

“This self-proclaimed Emperor deeming his act, the Mandate of Heaven, in a move designed to consolidate his power, subsequently passed his first evil edict which placed the entire Imperial Clan of the true Monarch under the executioner's blade.  The newly appointed heir apparent Second Prince Tzen, as well as Third Prince Vidar, were murdered shortly afterwards along with subordinate Princes and members of the Royal House of Valamir."

Through misted eyes, Asger related how many had chosen to commit suicide to deny Zakhertan the pleasure of directing their demise.

"So, all, without exception, perished?” Nevetsecnuac murmured solemnly.

"Not all.” Asger rejoined (responded) desisting tears.

 "Fourth Prince Ruen had been inexplicably absent, Fifth Prince Guylar had sent his son, Wuke, in his place due to a lingering illness which made travel impossible, and your father, Seventh Prince Shon had fortuitously as well, been elsewhere at the time.”

"Fifth Prince Guylar had unavoidably suffered much at the hands of the Yozdek Clan.  Earlier still, Prime Minister Morvald and Third Prince Vidar had launched a vile scheme to repudiate Prince Guylar.  They renounced Guylar and his absence from court to the Old Monarch, claiming that he was not ailing, that his infirmity was shammed, (sickness faked) as cover for his planning a rebellion.  They accused him of having grown too overbearing and dangerously strong away from the keen eyes of the court and they lost no time in presenting fabricated proof of this claim.  They offered exaggerated numbers of the occasions Prince Guylar had failed to respond to a summons from the court, supposedly drawn from the palace records, and added to it reports of the prince’s arms buildup, necessary to repel the border tribes, altered in such a way to also make this appear most suspicious.”

“These potent innuendoes of Prince Guylar's alleged conspiracy to foment rebellion had evidently caused His Royal Highness to fly into a rage.  Guylar's son Wuke, upon his arrival at the capital, was immediately incarcerated and an officer of the court was dispatched with credentials and the Imperial Tally to affect the prince’s arrest.  Before the officer's arrival, however, Guylar was informed of his dangerous predicament and, gravely ill already, in his indignation hastened his end (chose to end his own life) by forsaking all medication.  Sadly, his wife, sons and daughters were all taken away to the Capital under arrest, where they arrived just in time to be executed by the new emperor Zakhertan  Yozdek."

"What about Fourth Prince Ruen?” Nevetsecnuac asked, hoping that at least one uncle had survived.

"I don't rightly know.” Asger confessed.  “Again, there were rumors, but I cannot attest to their validity (legitimacy).”

“I still would like to know.” Nevetsecnuac interposed.

"Keep in mind, what I am about to disclose is only a supposition.”  Asger warned.

 "Once, during an informal (gathering) feast, Zakhertan  Yozdek had allegedly boasted of killing the said Prince in a most gruesome manner, but, when prompted, he’d refused to divulge the details.  Since Prince Ruen has never been seen or heard from hence, many had concluded that the rumors had to have been based on the truth.  Great many however disputed this claim (claimed otherwise), stating that Prince Ruen a distinguished warrior, an eccentric sort and an ardent lover of adventure, who frequently under disguise traveled to the furthest frontier regions of the kingdom in search of new thrills, was on yet another such escapade. I cannot support or deny this.” Asger shook his head.

04- PRINCE RUEN

"I did not know the prince personally.” Asger hid his true dislike of this selfish, reckless Prince with this disclaimer.  What will it serve to dredge up the unpleasantness of the past, and strain Nevetsecnuac's already tenuous connection to his dead family?  Some things are better left unsaid. 

Left unspoken also was the violent clashes of Asger’s and Prince’s personalities, how they both had countless disagreements and oftentimes quarreled, in the end settling to a mutual avoidance of each other.

“Some claimed he was a brilliant scholar.” Asger grimly looked away for a spell. “And that Prince Ruen insisted on uncovering the true knowledge that lay, not with the institutions of learning, but in the remote mountains with the hermits.”

 Hah, that was a laugh!

 “Often seeking this lifestyle, he would be absent from the court and palace."

In truth, it was but an effective cover for his vile deeds.  Asger inwardly scoffed, but at the outset with an even tone he’d resumed with his narrative.

"So, when the sovereign fell ill during one of these sojourns, Prince Ruen could not be contacted and summoned to his deathbed.  To date no one has heard from the prince, so assumedly, he too perished, perhaps from the elements.” 

Nor do I care what happened to that faithless brute!  Asger dismissively waved his hand; then quickly changed the subject.

"Your father, Seventh Prince Shon, was a brilliant scholar with a retentive memory.  His kindly, circumspect and unassuming manner cloaked his political and military genius, and he avoided any contention for power.  Prince Shon was seen by the court as unmotivated, weak and rather obtuse and was largely ignored by all, both high and low.  Yet, when it came time to awaken the Old Monarch to the existing danger posed by the Yozdek Clan, it was he who spoke up first.  Others, even Crown Prince Langley who despised the Yozdeks and harbored long secret desires to sweep them out of power once he was enthroned, shrunk from saying anything.  Your father, even at the young age of sixteen, had the prescience, discernment and foresight to rightly predict the future outcome of things.

05- PRINCE SHON  (AT 16 YEARS OLD)

 With bold determination he forsook his disguise and, in a private audience, risked his father's anger to try to persuade him to guard against the Yozdek Clan and curb their core power or, failing that, abdicate his throne in favor of the Crown Prince.  The Monarch had quietly and patiently listened to all that Prince Shon had to say yet remained unconvinced.  After a brusque promise to consider the matter, he abruptly dismissed your father.”

"'I will be banished.’ was Prince Shon's solemn prediction to his Stuard Kenny (childhood friend and confidant) once he had reached his private quarters. ‘My father could not be swayed, and my words were no doubt well documented by the Yozdek spies for the Prime Minister Morvald's repudiation.  I grieve, not for my sake, but for the sake of the many others who will suffer at the hands of the Yozdeks.'" 

Nodding thoughtfully, Asger drew a long puff from his pipe before continuing the narrative.  "Yes, just as your father had foretold, Prime Minister Morvald and others of the Yozdek Clan thereafter conspired to slander the Seventh Prince Shon to the Monarch and the Crown Prince.  They alleged that Prince Shon, despite his young age, was harboring ulterior motives and high ambitions for himself in his desire for the Monarch to abdicate in favor of his heir at just the precise time when the country was beginning   to enjoy the peace and prosperity of Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir's benevolent rule.”

“Public orators with false accusations further incited the populace and the Monarch against The Seventh Prince Shon; once his father's favorite, the prince fell fast from His Highness’ grace.  Even Crown Prince Langley was duped and remonstrated angrily with his younger brother (from the same mother) Prince Shon, suspecting him of conspiracy and masking his selfish, wicked thoughts.  Under these circumstances it took very little for the prince to offend His Royal Highness again and, in angry reproach; two days after his nineteenth birthday, Prince Shon was stripped major part of his inherited land holdings (bequeathed to him from his then deceased mother, Princes Beatrice) and banished indefinitely to the far province of Chio.”

"Once he had traversed the jurisdiction of the Capital province there were several expected attempts on Prince Shon’s life.  After three years of failed attempts, however, the culprit Prime Minister Morvald, finally aborted his evil schemes and resolved to hold back until a more favorable time in future. In the interim, prince Shon encountering your mother Ingrit in a quiet ceremony had married his beloved.  Upon the sudden and unexpected demise of the Crown Prince Langley, His Majesty's heart softened once more, Prime Minister Morvald, speaking eloquently on the hidden virtues of the Seventh Prince Shon, persuaded His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir to grant amnesty to your father and recall him to the Capital for his brother's funeral. “

06- PRIME MINSTER MORVALD

“The Yozdek family intended to gather all the Royal Family you see, for a swift and definite annihilation. You were only two months old when your father, always a filial son and brother, embarked with your mother and a large entourage on the return journey (to the Capital).  Since my mother was his elder sister, Prince Shon took this opportunity to have a brief visit with her; after which, my parents would have travelled alongside them to the Capital. “

“So, you are my true maternal cousin!” Nevetsecnuac took in a breath, suppressing his elation in the face of Asger’s humble demeanor and his as a matter-of-fact way of relating it.  Lord Asger was rather too preoccupied in his mind with the forthcoming subsequent facts. He halted briefly for another puff from his pipe.

“Had the way been unobstructed and their advance been conducted with normal speed they would have all reached the Palace at the time of the usurpation and succumbed to subsequent tragedy.  Mercifully however, Heaven had played its hand to foul the Yozdek family's plans, for unseasonable, torrential rains plagued the earth just after the Prince Shon and His Royal entourage crossed over the border into our province of Toren.  Given that the bridges ahead were all washed out and the roads turned into fast flowing rivers, Prince Shon was constrained to stay as our honored guest bit longer than anticipated, at least until the tempests had abated.”

"When the roads finally became passable (traversable), the day before we were all to depart, at the final gathering after repast that night, fortunately after the ladies had retired to their quarters, the news of Zakhertan  Yozdek's treachery reached us.  The eerie silence that permeated the large hall, before it erupted into loud ruckus (commotion, uproar), was quite unbelievable.”

“All our spirits, you see, had sunk into a gloom too deep to dispel, and tears welled up in our eyes; but Prince Shon with calm composure, quietly rose from his seat, walked down the steps and went outside.  Alone and away from prying eyes, gazing up at the sky, only then, he shed some silent tears. “

“This I can attest to since both my father and I had hastily followed the prince to outside.  Once there, however, reluctant to disturb His Highness, we had tactfully maintained our distance. Prince Shon, nevertheless once aware of our presence, quickly dried his eyes and coming over to my father the Prince said with dignity and humility, 'In a few days’ time, Lord Zhon, Zakhertan  Yozdek will be sending troops to apprehend us.  We rest entirely at your mercy.  You must choose whether to resist, or to hand us over to them, for even if I had been still empowered to do so, I could not, with clear conscience, ask you to risk all on our behalf.’”

"My father, advancing on his knees before the Prince Shon, cried, 'You have shamed me, Your Highness, with your doubting of my loyalty’, and then he indignantly reviled Zakhertan  Yozdek and swore to live and die at the Prince's side.  Kneeling beside my father I, also, intoned; 'Your Highness' fate shall be our own.'”

"His eyes filled with sadness, the Prince Shon bowed his head to thank father and me.  When we were all seated once more the prince said, 'This is proof that Heaven has not forsaken our Royal Family.  With your help, Lord Zhon, we may yet stand a chance.  I have well observed how your court's administration and the relationship between you and your vassals are all properly regulated. “

“There is no breach of convention or discipline here, hence your province is prospering, and its subjects are all loyal and contented.  You can depend on them to give full support to your decision to resist; however, one province cannot hold its own against an entire country.  Therefore, it is my contention that we urgently seek alliances with other Lords.' “

“Father concurred and immediately sent several envoys laden with rich gifts to our neighboring provinces urging them to join with us against a common enemy, but they were all too cowed to respond when their turn came.  Each shamefully bowed their head and quietly submitted to the new regime.”

“Lord Shonne Gulbrand happened to be gravely ill at this time; he was in fact at death’s door. He suspected later, and told me as much, that his own immediate family taking matters into their hands had deliberately incapacitated him, to prevent him from aligning   with us and to ensure their own survival.”

"Left on our own to defend our principles, with all exits from Toren now blockaded, father summoned his advisors for a War Council.  According to their recommendations, fortifications around Chenko city were reinforced, strong archers were placed on the cliffs on either side of the River Yulan to defend its narrow pass, and Nanku Pass was blocked.  Strongly entrenched, we stockpiled supplies in Chenko, preparing for the long siege.  By the time the Yozdek forces reached Toren, father's generals had rallied several thousand good fighting men to defend our province along with the peasant auxiliary.”

"Yozdek's forces attacked in strength, but our army put up a stiff resistance and drove them back.  Then a greater force was mobilized in the Capital under the command of Grand Marshal Gustav Erling and was ordered to destroy us entirely if we resisted. “

 

(END OF SECTION 13)

 

                                                                    ……

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 7

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE ASSASSINS- SECTION 7

 Unarmed Brandt intrepidly faced Stark and then pointing to Duan's corpse, tersely exclaimed, "Incriminating as this may seem, it affected the desired purpose. Heretofore I had to go along, to earn his trust, knowing he would lead me to you both.  And I had to make it look good during the fight so as to disarm him and gain such an opportunity to assist your Lordship, Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon?”

On saying this Brandt   gave another respectful, though a bit more flamboyant bow to Stark.

Svein, taken by surprise, turned his questioning, hurtful eyes on his uncle:  Asger?  Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon?  Is that who you really are? If so, why have you seen fit to keep this from me in all this time and after all we’ve been through? 

SVEIN

Mindful of Svein's stare, Asger's cold, stanch gaze remained affixed on Brandt.

"If my words prove to be false or misleading, my Lord, you may then consign me to the sword, and I will not cry out of any injustice."  Brandt   paused to cough lightly, clearing his throat, and then continued, "My Lord, I would like to first declare my undying loyalty and allegiance to our late sovereign, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir and his supporters.  I solemnly swear on my honor and on my ancestor’s grave, to the validity of my claim.”

 In his heart of hearts Brandt   hoped his father and his ancestors would forgive him of this very necessary falsehood! As it were, it had taken all his willpower not to have (choked) gagged on his asserted (avowed), sham oath.  His eyes did not blink staring straight at Lord Asger’s, nor did his earnest tone waver, when he next explained, "I had not chosen to accompany this notorious assassin by (accident) chance, my Lord.”

He paused and then smiled disarmingly, desiring to elicit suspense.  “I was entrusted with this task and pursued this difficult course at the urging of Lord Shonne Gulbrand, when His Lordship had received word from the capital that proper authorities clandestinely had enlisted this assassin Duan to track and murder, your esteemed self. Up until then, the precursors of Duan had presented no real danger and had required no such course of action (drastic recourse)."

Brandt’s reference to Lord Shonne Gulbrand would have easily been dismissed by Svein, had it not been for the slight change in Stark’s (Asger’s) coloration that instigated (incurred) his curiosity.

Perhaps this was unperceived or simply overlooked by Brandt who’d unceasingly continued with his accounts, “I’d pursued Duan covertly for day and a half, until one evening I fell into his adroit ambush.  At sword point I was forced to concoct a convincing tale, chiefly that I too, was dispatched by the authorities, to observe and if need be, fight alongside him for this mission’s success. Lord Shonne Gulbrand with his foresight and seeing to every detail had fortunately furnished me with official looking forgeries. Duan was outraged and threatened to kill me at first, but on a moment's reflection, he stayed his sword poised to strike at my throat and asked to see my credentials plus these so-called instructions.  After brief scrutiny he was ascertained of their authenticity and begrudgingly consented to my company. For reasons known only to him however, he kept the documents on him, in the inner pocket of his upper garment. If you fetch them, these false documents at least will verify part of my story.”

Brandt   had altered the truth only slightly, in fact both Duan and he had been from the very start secretly dispatched from the capital by Lady Lingrace.  She had seen to every possible contingency and provided Brandt   with the documents.  Neither Emperor nor Lord Shonne Gulbrand had anything to do with it.  Her ladyship had insisted Brandt   accompany Duan on this task, and Duan after demanding more payment to compensate for this weak link, had reluctantly agreed to it.

A nod from Stark (Asger) sent Svein over to Duan’s corpse; his upper garment had been discarded during the intense fight, some time prior to his eventual death.  After a brief search, Svein returned with the waxed leather case and handed it over to his uncle. Svein (Asger) kept a close eye on Brandt, as he, after removing the airtight outer casing, briefly examined (perused) the contents of it. Somewhat satisfied, Stark (Asger) simply tucked them away in his side-pocket.

 “You may continue.”  He next commanded Brandt, with still cold indifference.

Brandt   had only guessed where Duan had kept the papers.  Fortunately, they had survived destruction from the slashes of the intense fighting earlier on.

"For over two years, my Lord,” Brandt   pleased with the outcome, continued in earnest.  “I remained undaunted by countless obstacles and hardships that villain had put me through. He left a bloody trail behind of unimaginable horrors. All the while, he took such perverse pleasure at my sufferings.” He closed his eyes fleetingly then shook his head as if to purge dreaded images from his mind.

“I had to adapt my Lord, had to be more like him, till eventually, I gained his confidence and thereafter I gleaned through observance or from whatever few civil words he cast my way, some insight into his strengths and weaknesses.  Do not judge me too harshly my Lord; for had I not timely interceded, albeit in perceived treasonous manner, I'm afraid that competent as you both are, hmm.” Brandt   hesitated for a moment, before putting it more delicately.

 “Let us say, Your Lordship had not yet seen his utmost capacity. He was only toying, biding his time till he unleashed his worst on you both.  Had he chosen to flee…?” Brandt   shook his head dourly.  “Oh, I’ve seen him (in a flash) instantaneously disappear into thin air.  Had he done that and then descended upon your Lordship and company later, the inexorable dire consequences would have indeed weighed heavily on my conscience.  My Lord, he could move like the devil's wind on treetops or through earth, sand and snow leaving no tracks to follow him by.” He looked up squarely at Asger.

"Surely now, your lordship can understand the necessity for all my prior deceit and alleged, dishonorable conduct."

Stark (Asger) was not at all swayed by this remarkable performance; moreover, he suspected Brandt of being far shrewder and wilier an adversary than he led on.

“Hmm, the gravity of our situation (precarious existence) is further burgeoned by the fact that these two has done the impossible; they have succeeded in where that Usurper with all his resources and manpower has failed to do in twenty years.  And why Lord Shonne Gulbrand, why pick him?”   With a stone face, Stark (Asger) inwardly pondered.

STARK (ASGER)

As it were, Lord Shonne Gulbrand, because of the scrutiny from Capital lasting till present, for both their sakes, had remained quite out of touch with Asger or any other existing insurgent groups.

“Yet now he would risk all, undertaking such a perilous feat?” Stark further mused.

His eyes piercing Brandt’s, hmm, he may or may not have accomplices. Stark studied Brandt, while on the outset seemingly taken in, assiduously listened to the rest of latter’s yarn.

This close call had nevertheless, warranted caution and in order to obtain further pertinent data, Stark (Asger) needed time to at length interrogate (grill, probe) this albeit cunning and definitely sly adversary.  Well before this undertaking, however, he needed first to clarify a few more specifics.

"I am inclined to believe you sir. “Stark (Asger), breaking his silence, injected thoughtfully.  "Still, what further proof can you present to win my confidence?"

"That has already been arranged, my Lord.” Brandt   complied respectfully and bluffed.  "After Lord Shonne Gulbrand had assisted your esteemed self's escape, he had, with due discretion, dispensed the necessary funds and manpower to procure the other of your twin swords before it fell into the enemy hands.” Inwardly elated Brandt   congratulated himself, for his quick thinking and postulation (conjecture).  

Lack of any reaction, adverse or otherwise, on Asger’s part had reaffirmed Brandt’s longstanding hypothesis. So, Lord Shonne Gulbrand had a definite hand in Asger’s escape after all!   

Outwardly, meanwhile, Brandt maintained an even tone and continued without cessation.  “His Lordship had done this, with the utmost confidence that one day when the time was ripe; he would present it to your Lordship, perhaps upon your next meeting.” He halted his narrative with a barely discernible hint of a query in his tone.

No? No reaction, none? So, there has been no contact with Lord Shonee Gulbrand since then. Good!

With confidence now, Brandt added. “When it became necessary to send me on this errand however, he entrusted it to me as a means of winning your Lordship's confidence.”

That’s highly unlikely! Stark mused, while pretending to acquiesce.

 “Please examine the sword that now lies on the ground.  I dare not make a move to procure it, lest you’re Lordship and your respected nephew here suspects me of a ruse."  Having said this, he looked directly at Svein with a certain glint in his eyes, a slight semblance of a dare, as he artlessly donned an infuriating, bemused smile.

"There is no need to examine it”, came Stark’s (Asger's) icy response.

 "Svein, please be good enough to retrieve it for me."

"Don't trust him, Uncle.” Svein murmured a warning as he, (recovering it,) handed over the sword.

 Stark (Asger) merely grunted his concurrence then, oblivious to the raging snowstorm, continued to interrogate Brandt further with more penetrating questions. After a time, Asger, seemingly satisfied with Brandt’s responses, appeared by degrees more accepting of Brandt.

 In this entire time, obliging as Brandt was with his answers, not being as hardy (resilient) as Stark and Svein, he had gradually succumbed to the effects of fatigue and cold.

03 -BRANDT DUSTIN

At first, Brandt’s complexion progressively paled; the next instant, in mid-sentence his face gone completely ashen, he’d faltered, swayed on his feet and simply collapsed face down onto the ground already cushioned with thick layer of fresh snow.

 Svein darted over to Brandt’s side. Crouching over the body, he turned Brandt   over and brushed off the snow before examining   Brandt’s vital signs.  Brandt   was clearly unconscious, however still suspecting a ruse; he guardedly examined Brandt’s apparent injuries.  He did have a few serious bruises, lacerations, slight frostbite in fingers and a big bulge, sort of swelling (lump) on top of the head, underneath that mop of hair.

“I suppose the combat, contusion, the strain of inquiry and the elements were all in all too much for him!”  Svein with an air of disdain concluded his findings. 

Stark’s (Asger’s) cursory examination of Brandt’s discarded stiletto (dagger) meanwhile had revealed that the blade had predictably been laced with a rare but very potent poison. Asger’s mind had at once recalled another such incident where this poison had been used with equally dire consequences. 

Concealing his unease however, Stark (Asger) simply nodded; then on his directive, Svein hauled Brandt   over his back and followed his uncle to the stables.

There, they found a comfortable spot for Brandt   to lie, well away from the horse, where they had kept some of the (non-essential) winter supplies. They lit a brazier and stacked it with wood to make sure it would last out the night, then fetching the medicine and such, Asger with due diligence tended to Brandt’s wounds, while Svein at the outside secured both Brandt and Duan’s horses and after a cursory scrub housed them also in the stables alongside Fiery Comet. 

Stark (Asger) had scant reaction to Svein’s subsequent news, that judging by the obvious tracks, Duan’s corpse had already been swiftly carted away by pack of wolves, (if not some hungry predatory beasts); therefore, negating any necessity of a proper burial or pursuit of the remains. 

                                                                                                             

                                                                       ~

 

(END OF SECTION 7)