LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 23
The mayhem (great
pandemonium) of the crowds, meanwhile, kept on going long after they had gushed
outside; running, running, until they collapsed or found refuge at the nearby
food stands or teahouses where they (with tongues wagging) then began to spread
the fantastic, hair-raising stories about the stranger Zonar and their brush
with death. By noon, Zonar's name and
accompanying rumors had spread like wildfire to the farthest corners of the
Prefecture.
The account of this fiery
red-haired giant was tattooed on everyone's tongue and, by then, his features
had become greatly exaggerated. He was
described as being well over fifteen feet in height instead of just seven,
endowed with flaming, snakelike hair, flashing eyes and having a red reptilian
tongue; he was also said to have the jagged, sharp teeth of a predator
protruding from his purple lips, and all of this was framed (held) by a demonic
dark azure (cerulean, cobalt) face.
 |
| 01- Zonar's exaggerated image |
Many claimed he possessed the supernatural power to command thunder, lightning and fire, and many also attested that he had the combined strength of a thousand men. His single, menacing gaze had turned the bailiffs sent to apprehend him and everyone else in the courtroom to stone. He had cast an evil spell which prevented people from moving a single muscle, or even blinking an eyelid, until he had had his say, then had called down a bolt of lightning which threatened to reduce the Prefect's court to cinders and, riding away upon it, had disappeared without a trace. This was truly a supernatural phenomenon.
They uttered gratitude to
their protective deities at this point for having escaped such a catastrophe,
hoping, praying that they would never lay eyes on such a monster or his like
ever again. They swore with subsequent
conviction that the accused Fradel Rurik Korvald was in league with the evil forces
and, therefore, was the one responsible for conjuring up this demon to scare
the prefect into dismissing the case just when things had gone the worse for
him.
"I hope His Honor
won't be dissuaded from passing proper judgment on this villain." one of
them sounded out his concern above the general hubbub.
"But first",
another chimed in, "he had best call up the priests to properly exorcise
the courtroom and rid the place of all evil influences before rendering the
death sentence on this culprit, Fradel what's-his-name." All nodded in concurrence.
"Too bad His
Excellency, Provincial Governor Shuri, is indisposed," two, better
informed, rabble (Arland and Bryner) whispered among themselves, off to the
side of the crowd. "Until the new
Governor is installed in the post, Prefect Micen Do must bear the full burden
of his final decision himself, bereft of guidance and protection from his superior."
"That could still
take several months. I certainly do not
envy him now," the better dressed of the two, Arland, commented
wryly. "Just the same, I hope for
my own sake that he proves up to the task."
"What do you have to
worry about? You're only related to him
by a distant marriage," his close confident Bryner countered. "Even if he fouls it up, your family won't
be involved."
"That may be, but
Micen's gotten in too deep with the Lukos.
If there is ever an investigation..."
"I hear what you are
saying. Their tentacles have spread
exceedingly far. Secret blather (rumor,
natter) has it, even in this matter with Yenis; they lost no time sending their
agents off to the Prefecture to dispense gold among our various officials and
functionaries. It's virtually assured
that the prefect will arrive at the desired guilty verdict of Yenis and this
scholar Fradel. I understand his
conviction, after all he is an alleged murderer, but why do you suppose the
Lukos are so intent on ridding themselves of her? Unless, unless they're trying to cover up
something even more sinister."
"You're not hinting
at that malicious gossip (hearsay) of a supposed illicit affair between Yenis
and Shuri, are you? I thought that
matter had been settled (suitably resolved) long ago. Besides, weren’t they both
exonerated from all suspicion and blame?"
"Who said so?"
Bryner gave a meaningful smile.
"What is it that you
know?" Their natter (chat, gossip)
had taken them away from the main crowd.
"Why don't you fill
me in on those salacious details over a drink?" the Micen Do's relative
Arland grinned, as he tapped his friend on the shoulder.
"Why not… Just who am I protecting anyway? Besides, all this talk has made me rather
thirsty."
 |
| 02- ARLAND AND BRYNER |
"What say you, we, stroll over to Tries Lane and ride those fillies in the Zhexi Tea-House, while you tell me all about it then? It will be entirely my treat."
"You're too
generous. But you must allow me to pick
first this time, you always get the best looking one for yourself."
"It's not my fault
that I'm more handsome than you…Ha, ha."
"More handsome… the
weight of your purse has nothing to do with it, I suppose., Ha, ha haa!"
As Arland and Byner’s
forms gradually retreated into the distance, the (amassed) crowd was still
engaged in a heated discussion.
The question of Fradel's
guilt or innocence was of no consequence to anyone now, especially since the
matter had been dwarfed by this new, supernatural threat. Even those exceptional, intelligent few that,
prior to Zonar's appearance, had decided on Fradel's innocence and had favored
his release were now being swept up by the momentum of the crowd's ugly
sentiments.
At safe distance from
court, as the size of the congregated crowd swelled, many anxious to show off
their particular expertise in this matter, embraced the chance (in lively
animation) to elaborate on the various ways of disposing the evil corpse: the
most expedient way of doing it, after decapitation, is by digging out the
entrails of headless corpse before committing both to fire ( incineration), or,
by some other specific methods ( of discarding Fradel's remains according to
the Ancient Ways: The segregated parts of the body, the flesh, bones, entrails
and head must all be consumed by holy fires under proper religious supervision
before the accused’s’ ashes be cast into various cesspools for the eternal
damnation.) This would permanently eliminate any future threat from the
perchance(possibly) resurrected evil corpse.
~
Meanwhile, back in his
private quarters, Prefect Micen Do, in a foul mood, had for hours paced the
floor nervously back and forth, all the while neglecting to take tea or lunch
and refusing to see anyone before he finally settled down to review Fradel's
case documents.
Unlike the ignoramuses in
the crowd, however, he did not believe in this superstitious nonsense even
though, in collusion with the local priests, he had often enough encouraged
them in the populous in order to reap the benefits of their ignorance. Rather, his anxiety was born from the clear
understanding that Fradel Rurik Korvald was now under the protection of an able
assassin, perhaps even a coconspirator that had thus far eluded his guards.
As things stood now, Micen
found himself on the horns of a terrible dilemma; on the one hand, there was
the powerful Luko family, insisting on justice and pressuring him to settle
this case quickly, on the other was this serious threat to his own life from
that formidable stranger and his deadline of three days to free Fradel Rurik
Korvald.
Prefect Micen felt
constrained to appease the Luko Clan since he had graciously, perhaps unwisely,
accepted their substantial donations and gifts but, as in the past, he could no
longer shield himself under Shuri's arbitrary decisions, which he could always
manipulate into accordance with his own.
Micen Do again nervously
paced the floor to and for.
He knew all too well, even
if he was to do Zonar's bidding he must do it in a most underhanded way. In order to preserve his prestige, he could
not afford to appear intimidated by just one stranger, or even by a hundred
like him.
“Things were sure a lot
easier when I worked hand-in-glove with Shuri, but he had to go and offend the
Censorate Hagu. And I warned him about
Hagu, too!” Micen, abruptly stayed his
footing as he reflected, and dismally shook his head.
“Who knows what kind of
person this new Governor is? Zuyi? Zuyi?
I know practically nothing about him.
I suppose I'll have to wait and see when he gets here, then I can feel
him out good and proper, till I know just what makes him tick.”
He had upsent mindedly
stopped by the window to gaze distractedly at the view outside. The inner courtyard was virtually barren with
the exception of a few, sickly Scholar Trees beside an impressive man-made
mountain and a cluster of flowers newly planted off to the side of the stone
bridge. The flowers had all bent their heads, wilting pathetically, which
depressed Micen still more.
He had taken great pains to have this garden
constructed just right but nothing seemed to grow, let alone thrive, in that
cursed soil. He had hired and fired so
many gardeners and horticulturists he had lost count.
His eyes just then rested
on the small pond by the bridge. Oh
well, at least the carp are thriving.
With a shrug of his shoulders, he went over and plumped himself into his
well-padded chair.
First and foremost, he
knew he had to ascertain his subordinate, Ashrath's, claim about Fradel Rurik
Korvald.
"Now, where are the
devils of those papers?" He
frantically searched through the pile, digging them up from the bottom, and
examined them, this time with greater care.
Taking the trouble now to unfasten the envelope containing Fradel's
summons before the emperor, what he read there drained all the color from his
face and caused his heart to skip a beat.
“So, he was telling the truth after all. I thought he was merely boasting.”
Micen inwardly cursed that
cowardly Magistrate for not perfunctorily resolving this sticky situation and
having Fradel murdered in transport then blaming it on the renegade bandits.
As he perused over
Fradel's sworn disposition, Micen was forced to concede the scholar's
brilliance.
Again, reviewing the recorded testimonies and
the case documents, he now saw to his greater dismay that, other than the knife
found at the scene, there was no real, solid evidence on which to convict
Fradel of murder and robbery. The
adulterous affair with Yenis and his collusion with her in the murder were all
pure conjecture and solely based on the testimony of the woman, an established
liar.
“I suppose I'll have to
have these contradictory statements of Latham and Hacket patched up before
they're sent on to the Capital. Still,
I'm rather baffled.” He frowned.
“What earthly reason would
these two have for giving false evidence, I wonder? What is it that they are trying to cover
up? Oh, never mind.” After a moment's pause, he dismissed the
thought. “I can clear this up later,
when I can be discreet. If I do it
right, I may even be able to curry still extra favors from them. That would be more profitable than just
exposing them. They can certainly afford
it.” He wrung his hands imagining these riches already in his grasp.
Next reviewing Yenis's
confession from beginning to end, he again paused.
“I find this most
puzzling. Why, at death's door, would
she have to gain, what is her motive, for framing Fradel Rurik Korvald? Surely, it's not because she still wishes to
protect the identity of her real lover; not after he, so heartlessly abandoned
her? Or did he? What grudge could she possibly bear this
scholar that she insists on spinning such tales in order to snare him in a
capital offense?” Stroking his beard,
Micen mused.
“Had the two encountered
Fradel in their flight and Fradel, disposing of her lover, had later, as she
claimed, forced his violent attentions upon her? That certainly could be one plausible
explanation for it. Still, this Fradel
hardly strikes me as one who could become infatuated with her. I can't pinpoint it, but there is something
definitely odd about him. It’s as if
he's come from another time. Perhaps
it’s his indifference to pain, to life, to law?
Whatever it is, it totally escapes me.
When I examined him during the trial, what was it I detected in his
eyes? Yes, indifference, perhaps
contempt and curiously, pity… yes, pity?
This is most peculiar and irregular, but not a shred of lust. It's unfortunate that his servants, as he
claimed, were lost during that sudden storm while crossing the Mulor River,
that I can believe, I know how treacherous those waters can be.” Micen shifted
in his seat.
 |
| 03- YENIS |
“I'd rather not inflict torture on one as beautiful as she, Yenis… unfortunately, as things stand; she's my only means of getting at the truth. Hmm, as for Fradel Rurik Korvald, good riddance to him, I say!" Micen scoffed, already having resolved to absolve the scholar of both the charges of murder and robbery once the woman's confession was wrung from her by torture. “That certainly would be a lot less trouble than explaining why I convicted him.
Of course, this means I'll
have to produce the real culprit or, preferably, his corpse in order to wrap up
the case.”
“Confound it!” his face
darkening; Micen slammed his fist on the desk. “He's still guilty of the
trespassing law! This charge won't be so
easy to dispose of, since it has already been disclosed to that imbecile of a
Magistrate Turo, his entire staff and half the population of this
Prefecture.”
Fingering the indictment
papers and documents from Turo he pondered, “For once the cursed fool has done
a proper job of it, too. The proof is
indisputable.”
“Great; I'm sunk either
way.” Micen again squirmed on his chair, nervously scratching his head to
relieve the sudden tightness of his scalp. This fresh quandary unleashed a
throbbing headache that could not be so easily rid.
“The punishment set for
trespassing is decreed by His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek and can only be
rescinded by His Majesty. The death
verdict, then, it must be. Yet, even if
I double my guards and ensure my safety from this threat by the assassin, how
can I put to death one that is expected for an audience at the Imperial Court,
and carries a warrant of (regardless) safe passage from His Majesty?“ Micen let
his gaze linger on the summons, placed just to the side.
“While upholding one
ruling, I'll be forced to violate another!”
The feeling of dread
mounted in his heart compounded his urgent dilemma (sticky situation); in a
state of intense agitation, he suddenly sprang to his feet and began pacing to
and fro. As he did this, he deliberated
on his options, while animatedly sawing (cutting) the air with his hand.
“The importance of this
prisoner, alone, still constrains me, in the absence of the Governor, to
consult with the Legal Office of the Board of Punishments before rendering a
final decision. Yet, waiting for
instructions could prove detrimental, even disastrous, since the lack of time
precludes my waiting during any such action.
I must act responsibly at once.
What to do? What to do?”
Prefect Micen Do (for
hours on end) continued to wear down the carpet in serious contemplation until,
spreading his hands out before him, helplessly, he (arrived at) reached the
only plausible option (resolve):
“Fradel Rurik Korvald,
(with suspended or pending guilty sentence,) under heavily armed guards’
custody, in all due haste, must be transported to the Capital Channing. Of
course, with the official letter of explanation and all the amended trial
documents accompanying him, Fradel could then be tried in Capital by the Legal
Office itself, after the scholar's mandatory audience with His Majesty.
There remained only one
snag (hindrance) to this otherwise perfect resolve:
On route, should the prisoner escape custody
because of interference from that formidable, red-haired devil-assassin or,
band of ruffians, Micen could then be accused of incompetence in addition to
his brutal treatment of the accused while the scholar was held in custody under
his jurisdiction.
“Could I make amends by
fairer treatment of him now? Not
likely,” MIcen shook his head.
“Everyone knows how these
pampered literati sort, carry lasting grudges over slightest indiscretions.
After my mistreatment of him, I am certain not to be spared of his wrath.
It’s certain that, once in
Capital Channing, Fradel Rurik Korvald would use his influence on first secure
pardon from His Majesty, after all, being a stranger to these parts, why
wouldn’t such a valuable literate be absolved, for his ignorance, of a
twenty-year-old trespassing law? This attained, he would then devise the means
to beget (effect) my downfall. In light
of this, if I were to enable him a safe passage to Channing, wouldn’t I be
hastening my own destruction or, at best, live the rest of my life in fear of
the impending reprisals (retaliation) from his elite, powerful associates?”
“Hmm…. I would be much better off if this Fradel
were to expire on the route to the Capital and... Fail to... meet... his...
summons. Yes! Why the hell not! Especially if he were to meet his demise
after crossing into Tenzo Province…Ha!
His death would then become their problem. “
Prefect Micen gloated in
self-satisfaction, sitting down once more to lean back confidently in his seat.
Success was dependent
however on cunning strategy to effectively curtail or prevent any interference
from the fiery red-haired menace.
Infuriatingly, another
encumbrance (hitch) just then came to mind and Micen impatiently drummed his
fingers on the desk, until he satisfactorily resolved (dealt with) this aspect.
Even so, he was bit antsy about taking Mouro, (the best candidate for the job),
into his confidence but unfortunately, both Zuko and Ro had suddenly expired
last month, leaving Micen bit short of competent confidants.
 |
| 04- MOURO KERR |
“I wonder…can he be entirely trusted? He has proven invaluable to me in the past, still; the gravity of this case constrains me to exercise utmost caution. After all, I can't be too careful. I'll screen him first. “Micen made a mental note to allay (dispel) his fears.
Having resolved this
hurdle also, he relaxed and lazily stretched his arms; his appetite regained,
he called out to his orderly to bring him some tea and pastries.
"Oh, and send a word to Mouro that I wish
to see him at once." Micen, in afterthought, ordered. The orderly nodded
in compliance and quickly withdrew.
Micen Do rose confidently and strode over to
the window. Casting his gaze onto the
withering Scholar trees he mused aloud, "I should have chopped them down
and replaced them. Perhaps some common
poplars would be better?" A
sinister smile (smirk) visibly just then smeared his lips.
~
(END OF SECTION 23)
