LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 33

Hecun half believing his ears nevertheless listened on, as Mouro summarized Micen's reasons, his fears of retribution from the not so vulnerable, in fact the dangerously influential Fradel Rurik Korvald, and the entire sinister plot that had been concocted to extricate Micen from any danger and future trouble.

"After you had been poisoned all the corpses, including the prisoner, would have been barbarously mutilated.  In addition to some incriminating evidence planted at the scene, the blame for the massacre would have been indisputably shifted onto Zonar, and the responsibility for it onto Magistrate Rue."

"So, because of Micen's incompetent handling of this case, all of us were to be brutally sacrificed just to tidy up his own mess."  Hecun, understanding the full implications, mused out loud.

"Yes.  That, in a nutshell, would be it exactly."

"Such treachery I can expect from Micen Do," Hecun's face darkened as he burrowed his burning gaze into Mouro, "but you, you?  If you were aware of this diabolical plot from the start, why did you not see fit to warn me about it?"

"Think, brother, could I really do that without exposing myself?  As far as they are concerned, we have been adversaries ever since I took that promotion away from you."

"You're so smart; you could have found a way if you'd wanted to.”

"All right, perhaps I'm deserving of your contempt."  Mouro turned his head away, abashed, and then wryly ejected, "Though I'm ashamed to admit it now, I did, at the time, go along with Micen, selfishly wanting greater gain.  I'm not perfect."

"Greater gain… What, a greater gain!" Hecun exploded. "Greater gain than our friendship?  After all I've done for you?  You bring a new meaning to the word 'loyalty'."  Hecun highly incensed, spat on the ground in disgust.

 "From now on I will consider you as my enemy."

"Not so fast", Mouro protested, blocking the other's way.

"You're always so dramatic!  No, you listen!  Fine, I accept my shortcomings.  I confess that perhaps I'm too ambitious.  I'm guilty as Hell all right and I deserve your contempt, but doesn't it count for something that I didn't go through with it?  I didn't have to expose the plan to you at all, you know."

"True, you didn't, but there still is the fact that you collaborated with Micen against me.  You cold-heartedly plotted to murder me.  Am I supposed to feel better now that you've had a sudden attack of conscience?" Hecun scoffed coldly.

"Fine, I deserved that!  I'm a despicable human being, not as noble as you.  Now that you've gotten all that off of your chest, will you at least listen to me?  Whether you like it or not, if you're to survive this danger, you must work with me and not against me.  It’s imperative that we pool our resources together to deliver you from this perilous predicament.  Though you may now think that it’s asking too much, you must put your trust in me for this, if only but for old times’ sake."

“Trust you?  Trust you?  Imagine, you have the audacity to ask me that?  I'd sooner trust a scorpion.”

 Suppressing his inner feelings then, speaking aloud, Hecun asked wryly, "How do I know this isn't another ruse, another twisted plot?  How can I be ascertained that you're not ensnaring me in yet another facet of Micen's fatal trap, eh?"

"You're wrong, brother, in still suspecting me."

"Don't call me your brother,” Hecun spat on the ground.  "You disgust me."

"Fine, fine…Go ahead and hate me if you must but, for heaven's sake, don't let your emotions have reign over your reasoning."  Mouro was fighting hard to contain his anger.

"Stop for a minute and think.  Why did I let you in on it?  You think I like making things difficult for me?  Believe me when I say, this was the only way I could intercede and come through for you without endangering myself as well.  I haven't got much time to try to convince you of this.  I have to get back before I'm missed, so let some sense penetrate that thick skull of yours.  I made a clean breast of things too...Oh, all right; I'll confess this as well, if only to convince you: my fate, just like yours, is also hanging in balance here.  Yes, I, too, am in as much peril."

"So that's it!  It was because your own hide is at risk.  That's the reason for your change of heart.  I knew there was a good, solid, selfish motive behind all this sudden honesty." Hecun sneered.

Ignoring him, Mouro glanced around suspiciously then continued, "Unfortunately, I became aware of this fact only recently.”

“A few days back, as I was contemplating a means of helping you and, at the same time, considering taking my own guards into my confidence when some relatively insignificant act by Dag Diez arose my suspicion.  Since this nagging doubt persisted, I arranged to have him totally incapacitated by drink and seduced by an innkeeper's voluptuous niece.  After he had passed out, she let me into his room, and I made an avid search of his clothing.  You must understand why this measure was warranted.  For the entire duration of our journey, I had not seen Dag Diez even once disrobe for any reason.  He even insisted on sleeping fully clothed.  Little did I expect to find my own death warrant?  It was there, though, that vile, confounded, confidential letter from Micen, oh, I know his handwriting, ordering him to cooperate fully with the spies in your detachment and, after the completion of the deed, to dispose of my own corpse in the same fashion and add my name to the casualty list as well."

Mouro frowned, biting his lip.  "Now, I ask you, how could you and I, who hand-picked those two hundred men, have been so remiss, so gullible, as to have allowed some of Micen's spies to infiltrate those ranks?  It boggles the mind how we could have been so easily duped.  I admit, it’s partly my own fault for underestimating the resourcefulness of that crafty Micen Do, as well as the extent of his power."  Mouro's voice softened as he began speaking half to himself and began to walk away.

"That's essentially it.  Using my weakness against me, he beguiled me into believing I was his indispensable confidant.  Oh, what a joke!  But then, yes, it’s clear to me now why he wished to be rid of me."  For a moment Mouro reflected, absentmindedly drifting off to further personal, private concerns.  Catching himself in his folly, he abruptly halted, cleared his throat, and turned his gaze back to Hecun.

Smiling wryly, he continued, “Needless to say, from the moment I'd read the letter I was positively incensed, hence even more determined to completely undermine Micen's grand scheme."

Gritting his teeth, he stayed slightly on every word, "And this will be achieved only by our safe delivery of the prisoner Fradel Rurik Korvald to the Capital."  He then nodded with assurance for emphasis, noting Hecun's remaining skepticism. 

"Therein will lay our salvation...  As I mentioned briefly prior to this, Fradel Rurik Korvald has a strong influence among the powerful elite of the Imperial Court.  As soon as his grievance against Micen is aired to them, the repercussions against the Prefect will surely follow.  We, meanwhile, will delay setting out on our return journey and so escape the inevitable rippling effects of his downfall.

03- MOURO AND HECUN

“I must rely, of course, on Fradel's sense of fair play since he does appear to be that sort.  I'm confident he won't persecute those who are only doing their jobs.  Who can fault us for merely following orders, especially if tomorrow, after the opposition is wiped out, we make certain amends to him at obvious risk to ourselves."  Recalling his own ill-treatment of the prisoner in the courtroom, Mouro hung his head in silence but quickly shrugged his shoulders and brushed it aside.

“At least you were not as cruel with Fradel Rurik Korvald as you were with that hapless Canute Yonn,” Hecun pondered the same concerns.

Surmising the Bailiff's thoughts, Mouro grimaced coldly.  "For now, you must guard the prisoner well and let no harm befall him.  When I show up tomorrow with Kade Luir, for I mean to dispose of that cur Dag Diez well before then, you and I will express concern and release Fradel from the cage.  I'm sure he won't raise a serious objection to being put back inside once we're in the vicinity of Magistrate Rue's offices.”

“Oh, unfortunately, my hasty departure tonight made me entirely forget to bring the key.  But then, it would have been rather pointless anyhow, even if I had remembered."  He spread his hands animatedly, sneering, "You couldn't just spring him out now, could you?  He'll be far safer tonight staying just where he is."

“And besides, you wouldn't want me to take all the credit in Fradel's eyes, would you?” Hecun narrowed his eyes.

"Now remember, after I've taken off in a huff tonight, you must let yourself be cajoled into a calmer state, then condescend to drinking the wine that I had brought along.  Well before this, however, you must select two competent and trustworthy men and take them into your confidence, for you cannot do this alone.  Let them know that you suspect renegades have infiltrated their ranks in order to prevent the successful conclusion of this mission.  With their support you can then make your move.  In isolated, controlled groups share the wine with each of the men.  Those guards who abstain from drinking it, as they believe that it’s lethal, must be put to the sword at once.  Do not, I repeat, do not, hesitate or even consider taking them prisoners because it will only lead to further complications down the road.  The odds are stacked against us as it is; why should we needlessly compound the risks with traitors as prisoners?  Oh, and here, before I forget."  Mouro drew out a folded paper from an inner pocket.  "The directions in here will lead you to that well.  I regret that I have no time now to show it to you."

"Are you certain Kade Luir is to be trusted?  How can you be so certain that he's not in league with Dag Diez?"

04-KADE LUIR

"Him...?  Yes.  Kade Luir and I are, or rather had been once, rather intimate, sort of…”  Mouro smiled sheepishly, knowing Hecun's intolerance of his illicit relationships with men.

"You may not condone it," he could not resist rubbing it in, "but its commonplace in the army. This sort of friendship, the comradery (comradeship), fosters true loyalty, especially when your life is repeatedly put at risk; moreover, you can see how useful it proved at this instance.  Yes, I do trust Kade Luir completely; at best he will assist us, at worst, he won't give us any trouble.  Come to think of it, since he's quite adept with a sword, I will do my utmost to enlist his assistance should things go awry, and I'm forced into dire armed (conflict) confrontation with that brute Dag Diez.  You see, Dag Diez is guarded against me but not against Kade Luir.  He looks down on and despises him, considers him a weakling because of his suspected assignations a long time ago with me."  Mouro ignored the judgmental reproach in Hecun's (eyes) look.

"Hence, I can use this effectively against Dag Diez to beget (effect) his demise.  Now, let us both get back before we arouse suspicion.  You know what to do.  Play your part well."

After these directions Mouro strode boldly out of the ruined tower with Hecun close at his heels.  Suddenly, he halted in mid stride, causing Hecun to crash into his back.  Turning to face the Head Bailiff, Mouro said gravely, "Oh, there is one more thing I'd unfortunately neglected to mention."

Cautiously glancing about, he moved his head closer to Hecun's and whispered, "Fradel Rurik Korvald's identity papers that you were furnished with are false.  When my suspicions were aroused, I unsealed an envelope I had been entrusted with containing what I was told were his true papers.  Examining them with great care they, too, proved to be clever forgeries. “

“Hmm… Let us hope that, when I bring the key tomorrow, we find the originals in there with him.  Otherwise, we'll be in a terrible fix, won't we?  I don't know what we'll do then.  Now, let's play out this charade to its conclusion."  He dashed forward, along with Hecun, to be swallowed up by the oppressive darkness.

Feigning great anger when he came within sight of the guards, Mouro marched right through them with curses on his lips, violently kicking away the red-hot embers of the campfire in his path.  He boldly strode past the sentry, still fuming, and, snatching the horse's reins away, led the mare across the bridge.

Hecun, behind him, was left to play out the next, very crucial, scene.

                                                                                     ~

 

(END OF SECTION 33)  

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 17

Brandishing his sword as he stood in ready stance, Alec bellowed, “I am Heng Erling, the only surviving son of Marshal Gustav Erling and I have waited all my life for this day of vengeance!”

“I should have known you were (false) duplicitous right through” Nevetsecnuac fumed.

“A leopard doesn’t change its spots!”

 “Call it what you will, “Heng Erling laughed. “Brace yourself, for you shall be the first to perish at my hand, and that cursed Lord Asger isn’t going anywhere, either.  He forsook his own flesh and blood son Ivar Marrog Zhon, in place of you and, while you grew up in relative safety and comfort in that mountain cabin, his son from infancy has been languishing in a dark, foul dungeon beneath the Capital, never knowing a day without torture.”

“Hah, you think him a noble Lord, but in all these years, he never strove or mustered able men to rescue his own flesh and blood; instead, he cowered like a spineless fiend, biding his time and nourishing dreams of glorious return on your coattails, in that mountain retreat?”

“I’ve heard enough out of you. How dare you malign uncle, a noble Lord with your false, delusions; is there no end to your treachery?”  Nevetsecnuac brandishing his sword, raced towards him with the ferocity of a tiger.

All during the ensued fight Nevetsecnuac tried desperately to repute Heng Erling’s shocking revelations (disclosed facts) about Lord Asger’s forsaken son; unbidden however, certain facts too swiftly rushed to mind validating some of it, such as the seemingly benign incident in the “Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple”. Nevetsecnuac recalled all too vividly, Asger’s (Stark’s) accidental inclusion of the name “Ivar Marrog Zhon” in the list, before his quickly erasing it. And recently still, when at the stables Alec, rather Heng, had made the mention of Asger’s son, Nevetsecnuac recalled, how he was curtly stopped. Nevetsecnuac’s conscience thus troubled him as he fought two wars within and without; therefore, for a time Nevetsecnuac’s prowess had been hampered while he fended off Heng’s repetitive, fierce offensives.

Heng with his physiological warfare, thus, once or twice had almost got the upper hand and very nearly vanquished Nevetsecnuac. On one instance, Nevetsecnuac back flipped to escape the brunt of the blade that instead, cut a razor slice across his chest.  Rebounding quickly however, for Nevetsecnuac’s admiration and love for his uncle, Lord Asger was infinite; he had again picked up the momentum and very nearly bested Heng.

Equally resilient Heng withstood these offensives with his remarkable strength, skill and agility; meanwhile, encouraged by the prior result, again he strove to further disarm Nevetsecnuac.

“Some say Ivar Marrog Zhon has been kept alive, barely, as a ruse to draw the traitor from his secretive lair, but our Sovereign could not have known the heartlessness of this Lord,”

Heng spat the word Asger, as he continued with his deadly strikes.

“Some hero; he ran away in the heat of the battle, while his castle, his lands were being besieged, forsook his obligation to his father’s bloodline, for the likes of you? Answer me this, does Lord Asger hold aspirations of grandeur, thinking of the day of your being reinstated to power?  Fool, as if that would ever happen!”

“You know nothing of the truth.” Nevetsecnuac could not help but bellowed back, even though grasping Heng’s sly strategy, he had already resolved to maintain inner composure while concentrating an all-out effort at defeating this very dangerous, and cunning   adversary.

  “As for your beautiful wife, when I’m done with you both, she'll make a fine present for His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek to defile and torture.  Eunuch Egil Viggoaries can (devour) chew on the bones of your twins afterwards!"  Undeterred, Heng threw his head back in a monstrous laugh.

Despite his doggedness, Nevetsecnuac felt as though ice water had been poured all over his steaming body.  At the same time inexplicable sorrow had seeped into his heart as he, a recent dad, grasped the full implications of Lord Asger’s supreme sacrifice.

Fiery contempt for Heng flamed in Nevetsecnuac’s chest and filled his spleen with rage.  Grinding his teeth, he reviled Heng, and at lightning   speed he again powerfully struck the other.  They clashed, weapons thrusting, flailing against each other.  During this deadly exchange (skirmish) Nevetsecnuac suddenly realized that Heng had concealed his true abilities at all prior confrontations; in fact, his fighting skills were most formidable, far more formidable than Duan’s.  With the added advantages of incorporating Nevetsecnuac's fighting style alongside his, he had now become a most fierce (challenging) adversary, a virtually invincible opponent.

 

Lord Asger would be disappointed in me and appalled, all with good reason. Nevetsecnuac bowed his head in shame. How could I, with all my years of training, allow myself to be so completely duped? Fueled by this added indignation and ire, with his unleashed innate (inherent) survival instincts Nevetsecnuac was instantaneously transformed into an intrepid, more indomitable warrior. 

Presently, with such ardent, livid antagonists, the earth shook (trembled) from the ferocity of their combat. Limbs of trees fractured or splintered, surrounding foliage and the like were all pulverized or destroyed, rocks, boulders were smashed to bits, split apart or uprooted, as the intense conflict ceaselessly continued.

Lasting all night, after countless rounds of pitched battle, still neither of them could gain the upper hand.  Each time Nevetsecnuac lunged at Heng his thrust was nimbly parried and each blow of Heng's was warded off with little room to spare.

Finally, Heng made an ill-timed thrust at Nevetsecnuac's heart and Nevetsecnuac, with incredible dexterity, spun around it and, twisting his opponent's sword hand, forced Heng to tumble to the ground, dropping his weapon.  Heng rolled then somersaulted to avoid the assault that followed, at the same time retrieving (grabbing) his weapon and landing back on his feet to immediately hack back at Nevetsecnuac.  Again, each attack was parried, each blow warded off, till the force and lightening   rapidity of the strikes barely managed, took its toll on Heng and at one point having lost his grip, his sword flew off his hand aching across the sky to land, rather, be buried in the midst of the nearby lake.

 Heng stood, defenseless, glaring at Nevetsecnuac.

"Ask for mercy", Nevetsecnuac shouted, "and I'll spare your life."

"I'll see you in hell, first!"  Heng swore and darted towards his horse. 

"Stop your running   and fight, you cowardly fiend!" Nevetsecnuac had raced after Heng.

Heng’s stallion spooked by this sudden charge however, had bolted and neighing wildly, nearly trampled Heng under his hooves. But not before had Heng retrieved something he’d needed from the secret compartment of the saddle.

As Heng fell back he quickly tugged the items under his waist wrap; he grumbled a curse on his breath while his eyes briefly trailed his horse galloping into the distance.

Heng swerved (veered) and looked askance at the other but knew better than to try approaching Fiery Comet; resigned to his fate, perfectly composed, he then turned to face Nevetsecnuac.

Now all this had transpired in the blinking of an eye.

 

"Cowardly?  Who's the coward here? I dare you to fight without your precious sword!" Heng at this point, defiantly hollered back.

As it was, Nevetsecnuac's code of honor constrained him from striking an unarmed man.  "That suits me fine.” he tossed the sword aside and rushed to engage Heng in hand-to-hand combat.

They fought seemingly endlessly, with such force, such adroitness, the like of which was unseen in any mortal man.  Again, the surrounding area became the casualty of this intense battle. Perfectly matched, the hand-to-hand combat would have lasted forever and ever, but Heng was fast nearing his patience, and sought to bring a quick resolution to this obvious impasse.

And so, after his deadly strike, in an unexpected maneuver, Heng turned tail and fled, as he ran, he withdrew handful of tiny razor-sharp metal spikes with poisoned tips, from beneath his waist wrap, then while still running   he half turned and hurled them with lightning   speed at Nevetsecnuac.

 With incredible agility, Nevetsecnuac dodged the deadly spikes’ course, and the metal spikes continued, flew by and buried their heads in the same ancient tree that his sword had once sliced.

 “Blast!!”  Heng cursed under his breath, as he same time, taking advantage of Nevetsecnuac's momentary distraction, in lightning speed, retrieved the other concealed poisoned stiletto from his high leather boot.

First, he allowed Nevetsecnuac to catch up then, whirling, Heng swiftly (longlined it) thrust the blade into Nevetsecnuac’s chest, having held no qualms at all about killing an unarmed foe.

Failing in this, for Nevetsecnuac’s quick action hurled it from his hand and buried it into the midst of thick, thorny bush, Heng somersaulted, shot through the air and dove right into the frigid waters of the lake. He was gone from view only for a spell, emerging shortly after brandishing the blade in his hand; he landed squarely in front of Nevetsecnuac who was rushing to retrieve his discarded sword.  Unarmed Nevetsecnuac with sure proficiency fended of the deadly assault then swiftly arriving at the spot where he had discarded his sword earlier, he nimbly kicked it to waist height with his toe, grabbed it without breaking stride and turned to parry Heng's murderous slash.

Again, they fought for another twenty to thirty rounds but this time, despite his prowess, Heng, chilled to the bone, began to falter.  In contrast, Nevetsecnuac maintained his speed and agility and wielded his weapon with such consummate skill that, in the end, he cut a three-inch-deep swath under Heng's ribs.

Heng froze in mid-parry then collapsed to the ground in a swelling pool of crimson.  Blood and curses spat from Heng's lips, each breath making him writhe in agony as he muttered bitter recriminations against his own impatience, arrogance and folly in underestimating Nevetsecnuac's competence.

"If only I had waited for the reinforcements and been content letting the axman take your head.  I've failed miserably.  My life's ambition has been frustrated."  Hot tears mixed with the blood on Heng's cheeks.

"My doomed father, forgive me.  I've condemned you to an eternity of torment, wearing the chains of ignominy, in the underworld!  My beloved ill-fated mother, Lingrace, forgive me, oh how I have failed you both!”

 Heng swallowed hard, thinking the rest.

Oh mother, you forsook your virtue and bore such shame during all those years you suffered the lustful, lecherous pawing of Zakhertan Yozdek.  You debased yourself as attendant at his wife's feet, just so I could live and avenge my father's death. Please mother, don’t curse me forever; find it in your heart to forgive, to absolve me of my failings for I’ve done my best, always have; unfortunately, the fiendish foes are backed by powerful demons. With Heaven forsaking the good, I was doomed to fail.

This was the only version Heng had desperately clanged to, always believing in his heart of hearts that his supposed angelic, saintly mother had been forced into that compromising situation, in order that her son's life was spared and also that the scant hope was kept alive, the prospect and the sole aspiration of avenging her husband’s untimely, ignominious death! 

Ensuing years of her coercion Zakhertan  Yozdek had been, by degrees, spared from any and all blame; instead, intense hatred and animosity had been fueled and then deferred to that vilified Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and Prince Nevetsecnuac.

 In blind faith Heng envisioned his mother, to his dying breath, as a self-sacrificing, tragic, victimized and molested heroine, rather than the deceitful, conniving and ambitious woman that she was. 

How could Heng face the ugly truth and keep intact his sanity?  How could his tormented mind surmise, the underlying, contemptible sole reason, that he had been spared for the horrific, sickeningly gruesome demises of his elder siblings, all because his mother had, long before the usurpation, covertly had intimate liaison with Zakhertan  Yozdek. And that suspicion, the question of Heng's paternity, was what had excluded him from the executioner’s block (gallows) or fate worse than death.

 How could Heng have guessed at the root of deceit that ran so deep in his mother that, on this day, when he was sacrificing his own life not to avenge his father's death, but rather to further her underhanded, selfish desire to ingratiate herself back into Zakhertan's good graces.  And that was the sole reason she had hired covertly this assassin Duan and constrained him to take her son Heng along for the ride.

 

In the meantime, despite the treachery, contempt and duplicity all that had passed between them, Nevetsecnuac, had felt certain compassion for this dying man, curled up in excruciating pain on the ground. And so, he leaned over to ask, “Can I do anything to ease your pain?"

"You can rot in hell; whelp!"  Heng's face contorted in pain at the effort it took to curse.

"I suppose there is no rebellion either,” Nevetsecnuac grumbled as he looked away, understanding the full scope of his deception.

"Haa, ha, haak!," blood welling up in Heng's throat cut short his sarcastic laugh.

 He spat it out at Nevetsecnuac and gritted his teeth in contempt. 

“That’s right, fool.  There are no rebels, no battles. The Generals lead an army of the dead.  Ha, ha, ugghh!" 

Pain again cut short his laughter as he uttered his last words with regret, “Pity that I should be the one to die, not you.  Heaven is not just."

Nevetsecnuac looked away to hide his surging emotions because he had been dealt with a crushing blow.  The lack of rebellion was not the cause of his turmoil, his deep dismay; however, rather, it was the knowledge of Lord Asger’s forsaken son.  So much had happened during these last few months. With those entire facts in a streamline racing through his mind, he plumped his seat down listlessly beside the lifeless body of Heng.

A great deal of reality had altered. He was not the person he thought he was, neither was his uncle. He’d grown up with, albeit necessary deception. As the past life in quick succession once more flashed before his mind’s eye, it resolved all that mystery he’d grown up with; so much more made sense now.

In one fell swoop many of his life’s queries had been answered.  But worst of it was the knowledge, how his beloved uncle, Lord Asger had sacrificed and endured such hardships and pain all on his behalf.

He shuddered at the thought of another innocent being, sacrificed and forsaken, worst still, imprisoned at infancy, forced to endure such torment, all because of him.

Lord Asger Marrog Zhon had sent Nevetsecnuac on, albeit with some reserve, hoping against hope that there would be some truth to Heng’s claims.  Looking at his bloodied sword, Nevetsecnuac recollected the entirety of his oath to self and Lord Asger; so, he sat, eyes cast on the ground, staring aimlessly in silent, pained concentration. 

He’d sworn the oath not to return without exacting vengeance, on behalf of all those living or perished souls. Heng’s treachery aside, Nevetsecnuac could not dismiss the fact that, Lord Asger’s son to date languished in some dark dreary dungeon.

 With lowered head, Nevetsecnuac ground his teeth and clenched his fist as he seethed.

  If he were to return, Asger would never let him go on this perilous rescue mission.

Teuquob and his bellowed children, their dependence on him could sway his determination. But how could he last another day, knowingly perpetuating this unethical, immoral feat (act)?  Lord Asger had sacrificed so much… Least he could do, is try, try to rectify this grave injustice and reunite him with his flesh and blood son!

Suddenly he knew the action he must take to make all these wrongs right. He could only estimate the scope of difficulty, the unforeseen challenges of his chosen (decided) course, but same time he knew it was the only honorable thing to do.

Springing to his feet, he threw both arms into the air and let out an earth-shaking roar

“Heaven bear witness to my new vow (pledge), whatever the cost; I shall exact vengeance on the Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek for all the wrongdoings he’s committed and, reunite Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon with his son Ivar Marrog Zhon.”

Nevetsecnuac afterwards (next) with meticulous care buried Heng Erling’s corpse under some rocks, poured libation (offering the entirety of wine which Heng had kept in animal skin vessel/container, and used it sparingly, since the time he’d accompanied Duan) over his grave and said some prayers for his soul.       

 At that moment in time, the first light of day broke; Nevetsecnuac’s eyes beheld a phantasm dragon suddenly manifest in the crimson sky, which it then quickly sailed on by amidst red clouds, till it dissipated.  

Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully nodded, then unable to stand still a moment longer he, vaulting into Fiery Comet's saddle, galloped the steed in the direction of the morning sun.

 

(THE END OF SECTION 17 – THE CONCLUSION OF THE ASSASSIONS)