LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 3

Cold shivers gripped Lu’s heart, and his face contorted with sadness as he recalled the horrific details of so long ago.  In his anguish, he bit his lip so hard that blood trickled down his chin and onto his bare chest. He, oblivious to the trail of blood, spoke of the tragic demise of his wife who had been tortured at length and then made to witness as her only son’s life was snuffed (extinguished), all, in order to extract information from her, concerning Lu's whereabouts.

 "But how could she tell them anything? I had left under cover of night without a word to anyone. The mission demanded absolute secrecy. And for that, she was … (Lu’s tongue froze, for he could not bring himself to say it,) until... ah, such inconceivable cruelty! To think men is capable of, could conceive such extreme torment (abuse)!"  Lu lamented, shedding more tears, "If only I had the foresight, I would rather have ended their lives swiftly myself and spared them such agony."

Realizing the fetters of providence that linked him with Lu, Nevetsecnuac dropped to his knees and bowed respectfully to the beggar before him.

"What's come over you, son?” Lu rushing over pulled him to his feet.

"You were one of the elite guards dispatched by Lord Shonne Gulbrand to deliver Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon to safety, were you not?"

"Yes, but how can you know that?” Lu cried in astonishment. "Clearly you are not what you seem…. Who are you really, sir?"

Svein’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) reply was cut short by a violent gust of wind that sprang up instantly within the room, rattling the windows. The flames of the fire grew dim and then rekindled, spewing forth a dense smoke that rolled across the room like a fog to obscure their vision. Nevetsecnuac rubbed his eyes to clear his sight, then, looking up, saw a man's form standing by the scroll. Nevetsecnuac, springing to his feet, called out, "Who's there? Who are you, sir?"

The apparition made no reply.

Fearing a spy, Lu had also sprung to his feet and, muscles tensed, craned his neck to squint in the direction Svein was speaking.  He saw nothing.  "What is it?” he half turned and shouted at Svein in alarm.

"Can't you see him?” Nevetsecnuac pointed, barely able to make out the figure himself now that it had retreated into the shadows.

"See what?” Lu snapped at Svein, still unable to see anything out of the ordinary.  "Your eyes must be playing tricks on you."

Puzzled, Nevetsecnuac took a bold step toward the mute ghost, but the phantasm instantly vanished into thin air.  When Nevetsecnuac halted or took a step back the figure re-emerged. Accordingly, the apparition moved back and forth, dimmed, and then appeared evasively by the fire.

"Sir, we humbly ask that you identify yourself.  Please make your wishes known to us.” Nevetsecnuac respectfully bowed to the seemingly irresolute ghost while his eyes tracked the wavering image.

Tugging at Svein's sleeve, Lu urged, "Hurry, describe him to me!  What does he look like?"

"He's tall, thin, fair of hair and dressed in a light blue robe.  Wait a minute, there's an embroidered crest on his garment. It looks like," again Nevetsecnuac’s head moved to follow the roaming spirit, "yes, like a golden sword over a coiled black serpent."

"Heavens be merciful!” Lu's face turned ashen, and tears pricked his eyes.  Frantically dropping to his knees in the direction of the apparition, in supplication he touched his forehead to the floor repeatedly and implored Lord Shonne Gulbrand to show his countenance to him also.

In accordance, Nevetsecnuac prostrated himself also before the Lord's image, expressing eternal gratitude to him.  After repeating his vow of vengeance upon Zakhertan Yozdek, tears streaming down his face, he then requested for the reason for the Lord's manifestation, promising to fulfill any of Lord Shonne Gulbrand's wishes to the best of his ability.

It was after Lu intoned the same request and bowed his head respectfully that the Lord's image became visible to him as well.

The apparition, now more defined, floated towards Nevetsecnuac, riding atop the fluorescent clouds.  His distinguished, noble presence awed Nevetsecnuac but, before he could bow once more, the specter of Shonne Gulbrand gave a respectful bow to the prince instead.  The ghost's expression, though tired and grim, was affectionate and he gave an approving nod to Nevetsecnuac as a fleeting smile grazed his lips.

02- GHOST OF SHONNE GULBRAND

 When Nevetsecnuac looked up questioningly to the Lord, he saw a single tear trickle from the apparition's eye to land wetly on Nevetsecnuac’s forehead.  Though no words were exchanged, the prince understood just then the reason for the Lord's visitation and touched his head to the floor in obeisance.  When he looked up again the figure had disappeared; Nevetsecnuac’ eyes drawn to Lu, beheld the other’s baffled and questioning gaze.

In all these years, Lu had pondered; my Lord has never graced these premises.  What would prompt this visit now?  Who is this youth before me that he merits such honor and respect from such a High Lord?  Unless...  Just then Lu's eyes widened, his face flushed a deep crimson and his jaw fell-open as he stared at Svein.  Could this be?  Is this youth the baby prince left in Lord Asger Zhon's care?

 "You!” Lu cried out with an alarm and pointed at Svein. “You!” another cry escaped his Lips before his throat constricted and drowned any hope of further utterance.

Nevetsecnuac rushed to stop the trembling Lu from dropping to his knees and, overriding the old soldier's protests, picked him up and placed him in the chair by the bed.  The prince then prostrating, expressed his gratitude for the great sacrifices and the hardships Lu had had to endure, all for his sake.

The series of exciting events, all in the span of but a few hours, had proven too much for Lu.  Once he had been a mighty warrior, blessed with great prowess, but old age, and the ravages and angst of the past two decades had taken their toll.  This sudden shock made his head throb, then his eyes began to swim and shortly after he lost all focus.  All his energy drained rapidly from his body, and he swooned.

 Nevetsecnuac reacted swiftly and, reaching forward, stopped Lu from sliding off of the chair. He then picked Lu up and gently placed him on the bed.

 

Assured by his still strong pulse that the old soldier was still among the living, Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully covered him with the quilt then, picking up a cracked cup from the desk, went outside to collect some rainwater.  Returning when it was full, he wiped Lu's forehead and face with a wet rag.  Gradually the color returned to Lu's ashen, sallow cheeks and he stirred.

"What happened?” his eyes partly opening, he groaned.  Then, when his memory became more acute, he strove to rise but Nevetsecnuac’s hand restrained him.

On Nevetsecnuac's insistence, he was forced to take things in stride and, with some assistance, drained the cool rainwater from the cup.  Sometime later when he was more able, he sat up and the two spent until the small hours of the morning exchanging heartfelt sorrows, greetings, gratitude, and stories.

 It was then that Nevetsecnuac first heard of the atrocities committed in the past by Zakhertan  Yozdek before and after his usurpation of power and the existence of a (few seconds’) younger,  twin to Lord Shonne Gulbrand.

"Identical in appearance though they may have been,” Lu said, "they could not have been more different in character.  As goodness and virtue were the qualities of Lord Shonne, the opposite could quite easily have been said of his twin, born fifteen minutes later, Khronolf, who led a totally vile, debauched Life.

03-KHRONOLF GULBRAND - SHON 'S TWIN

 Coveting the inherited title of the firstborn, Khronolf harbored great jealousy and resentment for Shonne and secretly plotted to have him murdered.  Being a weak-willed character though, he delayed carrying out his designs.

The flaws in his character grew progressively worse with each passing birthday and the worse he became the more he was shunned by his parents, relatives, peers, and any worthwhile gentlefolk.  Frustration stemming from these thwarted desires drove Khronolf ever closer to despair until he was literally consumed by his madness.  By then his cruelty knew no bounds and many unfortunates suffered at his hand.  When he finally amassed enough courage to make, albeit a bungled attempt, on Shonne's life, the plot was easily exposed and, in exasperation, he turned his sword on his hapless wife, then himself.

"His only surviving offspring, Dwenng Gulbrand, was away at the time but his heart too, after years of coaching by his father, was poisoned against Lord Shonne.  Nevertheless, after this family tragedy, Lord Shonne Gulbrand adopted the boy and raised him as his own.

Dwenng Gulbrand was provided with proper tutelage and every means of luxury, he lacked for nothing.  The ungrateful wretch concealed his true nature and hid his ill feelings towards his uncle, biding his time until he had acquired the necessary skills to murder his uncle and usurp his title.”

"Underneath the pretext of an amiable good nature, Dwenng was as vicious and cunning as any fanged viper.  Trusted by his uncle, he had accumulated, in due time, the most damaging information about the Lord."

04- DWENGG GULBRAND - (KHRONOLF'S SON)

At this point, Nevetsecnuac's thoughts strayed to Hacket Erling, who had adopted similar tactics to gain the trust of Asger and himself and whose fabrications had a strange blend of truth woven through it after all.

"Despite his pure, perfect, placid crust, Dwenng had failed to control what seemed to be a seemingly harmless vice, his lechery.”  Lu's voice was steeped in disgust.  "Always on the prowl, he delighted in corrupting then injuring chaste women by a range of devious or forceful means.  Unfortunately, these vile acts went undetected by Lord Shonne Gulbrand, who was increasingly burdened by state affairs.”

 “Zakhertan Yozdek had by then usurped the throne and, with the aid of his vast armies, had swiftly and effectively consolidated his power throughout the Empire.  Unable to reverse this sweeping tide, Lord Shonne had led an underground campaign against the usurper.  His struggle was still in its infancy when he successfully effected the escape of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and the infant Prince Nevetsecnuac, which is you, Your Grace.” Lu took another sip or two from the cup to quench his thirst, before continuing.

“Now where was I? Oh, yes. With such weighty concerns on his mind, is it any wonder that Dwenng's misdeeds escaped his attention?  Meanwhile, Dwenng's mortified victims fearing reprisals from the wretch dared not bring forth any charges before the Lord or his courts. But Dwenng's numerous conquests, over time, had fed his arrogance and he eventually grew careless.  On Spirit’s Day, not unlike this one, Dwenng happened to cast his cursed eyes on the beautiful wife, Alva, of Assistant Magistrate Birger at the Ayen Temple.  Lusting after her, the charlatan wielded the power of his position to arrange a secret admission to her home in broad daylight when Birger was away.  Of course, his intent was to molest Alva.” Lu swallowed hard and shook his head, still very much incensed.

“Surprising the good woman in her bed chamber he tried to force his attentions on Alva, daring even to threaten her when she rejected his forceful advances.  If she screamed, she would be found in a most compromising position, and he would not hesitate to ruin her reputation and tarnish her husband's good name by claiming she was once his long-standing mistress.  Dwenng would claim that her heart had only recently turned cold towards him and so she attempted to rid herself of her pesky lover by playing the part of the virtuous wife who had been terribly wronged.  As a threatening gesture, a bluff, Dwenng opened his mouth to call out to the servants and make public this fabricated declaration.” “The poor woman must have been frantic, according to hearsay; she fell to her knees, pleading with him to show mercy.  Yes, Alva pleaded with him, but it was in vain because the wretch could not be deterred.  Most of this is part of the court records."  Lu explained, with fire in his eyes and still Livid, his teeth gnashed together in contempt.

"The villain still tried to force himself on her and, seeing no way out of it, and seeking a way to spare her husband from this great humiliation, Alva pretended to accede to his wishes, if only they could meet elsewhere in secret where they would not be found out.  The cur, with some reluctance, agreed to be patient until they could spend an entire, intimate evening together the following fortnight.  He left her side, grinning, and spent the rest of the night drinking and carousing with his cronies.

"That night Alva waited until Birger had fallen asleep, quietly kissed him, and then slipped out from under the covers.  Going to the library Alva wrote to her beloved husband a tragic farewell letter that explained the circumstances and implored him not to take any action against Dwenng.  She begged him to forget her and remarry as soon as possible to one whose beauty would never cause him such trouble.  They found the letter dotted with the stains of her tears, on the desk in the morning, her cold corpse hanging above it by a silken cord.

"Yes, in her prime Alva was cheated out of a happy life.  She was but nineteen and had died because of a lecher!  Oh, delicate flower crushed by that...” Lu bit his lip and turned his head away to hide his pained expression.  Despite his attempts of restraint however, his heart so pained him that, he loosened his clenched fist to now massage his chest.

Observing the play of emotions, Nevetsecnuac questioned Lu, "Was Alva a close relation to you?  Certainly, you knew her well."

Lu's fleeting smile only deepened the furrows on his forehead revealing his inner struggle.  After some brooding, he nodded, resolved to admit the truth.  With his voice quivering he said, "Yes, I knew her well.  She was our neighbor's daughter.  Oh, how beautiful she was, so frail yet blessed with such a luminous character."  He spoke as if in reverie, "They lived only a few houses down from us.  As children, we used to play together and got along quite well. As an adolescent (teenager), she was particularly fond of horses and loved riding.  Alas, later I left for the Capital to enter the Royal Military Academy and, when my postings after graduation took me away on campaigns, we lost touch with each other. “

 “I have never forgotten her though,” Lu looked ill at ease.  Regret and pain contorted his face.  As a man of high morals, he found it hard to admit, to bare his soul to another, that he’d once secretly and deeply been in love with her, an enduring love that to date still gripped his heart.  Shame, remorse, despair, love and loneliness entangled him anew and he coughed repeatedly as if to break free of this constraint.

ALVA

After a spell of brooding, he resumed his narrative, "After my military service, when I returned home to the service of Lord Gulbrand, my parents brought up the subject of my marriage.  With a joyful heart, I expressed my desire to wed Alva, only to have my hopes dashed when I was informed of her engagement to another.  It was too late.  I cursed my stupidity, my negligence and my oversight and quietly accepted the choice my parents had made for me.”

"Strange", Lu mumbled to himself," even after all this time, the memory of her loss is so painful, with the tightness gripping my chest, I can barely breathe, much less ruminate (dwell on) …."

 Then, smiling sheepishly, he turned to Nevetsecnuac and added in a stammer, "But, of course, I had loved her from afar, and later, when I wed, I learned to love my dear wife and the pain in my young heart became but a distant memory."  As if to extricate himself, Lu rattled on about how his wife had been virtuous and loving, and how much joy their lovely boy she bore him had brought to his life as he watched him grow till age four.  But Lu's forceful repudiations only helped reinforce the unrequited love he still bore deep in his heart for Birger's wife Alva, now a ghost.

A ghost, Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried. Could she be the visiting apparition earlier on?

 

(END OF SECTION 3)

 

 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)