LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 2

The general guests well into their cups, P.M. Lamont Gudaren unleashed the profligate centerpiece of the night's entertainment: a licentious, at times violent orchestration of a ribald theme by a famed opera company.

Nevetsecnuac (seated at the honoured position) was unfortunately, constrained to watch this tactless display; to alleviate his discomfort, he downed (consumed) several more cups of fine wine, exceeding his limit.

01 -PM LAMONT GUDAREN -2-JP

Noting Fradel Rurik Korvald’s slight annoyance, the Prime Minister, already ripened to the occasion himself, leaned forward and confided his deep disappointment to Fradel, that the great magician and seer, Dwengzur, had been unable to be located and therefore could not have been prevailed upon to enliven this gathering. "If the great Dwengzur had performed but one of his famed magic", Lamont Gudaren avowed, "This show we are watching would be paled in comparison.  I regret that I can only provide the second best."  After the expected polite disclaimer from Fradel, Lamont had swiftly resumed, "In fact no one, not even the Sovereign, has seen him since the cowardly assassination attempt that has aroused the anger of everyone in the Channing."

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac)'s interest was now roused. Even though his reason told him otherwise, he remained hopeful that Dwengzur and Zonar were the same and that the wretched, badly charred corpse in the central square was indeed the emissary from Kontu, as Zaur Stugr and everyone else firmly believed.  A tiny ripple of anxiety and impatience washed over him.

“If only Dwengzur had attended this party; this matter could have been firmly resolved.”

That instant as if prompted by this very thought, there arose a low, disturbing hum which grew into an angry rumble. It seemed to emanate from the center of the tall dome that stood atop the octagonal hall, spreading downwards, and causing the walls themselves to quake violently.  The flames in the hanging braziers dimmed, quivered then blazed into full brightness, fanned by a gust of wind which arose out of nowhere. An odd, pungent smell rode this wind, circling the hall like a whirlwind to assail all nostrils like a harbinger of evil. From out of the walls themselves, a dense, luminous, crimson fog, streaked with plumes of azure, coiled around the gathering, shrouding everything in its tendrils and then, abruptly all noise ceased.

02- LUMINOUS CLOUDS

In the eerie stillness, Nevetsecnuac felt an icy touch on the nape of his neck.  He turned sharply but could see nothing through the dense, radiant haze.

Slowly the incandescent fog dissipated and the figures of his host, the entertainers, guests, servants, musicians and even the exotic animals in their cages could then be, discerned. Yet something was not right, they were all frozen in their various poses. It was as though time and all life in the great hall had stood still. Nothing, not even a breath or the lightest breeze moved. Not a single strand of hair stirred. Reality as once was, was now in question; meanwhile, the prevalence of dark, demonic presence encapsulated the stifling air.

03- DEMONIC PRESENCE

Frowning, Nevetsecnuac rose cautiously from his seat and, placing his hands at the edge of the table, he craned his neck this way and that, to survey the entire hall. Everything about him without exception was inert (stationary). Even the wine that was just-being-poured remained suspended in mid-air. Wagging tongues, animated gestures, shrieks of amused laughter were all arrested. On the center stage an opera player was, frozen in mid somersault as he dodged the speeding knife that now hovered in mid flight. The woman on the divan, caught in the scripted adultery and attempting to hide her partial nakedness under the sheets, her and the billowing sheets were also perfectly stationary, solid, and unmoving as rock. A single house fly that was about to be swatted, lay frozen in mid-flight just inches from a cross-eyed servant's nose.

Leaving the table, Nevetsecnuac walked the length of the hall and stepped onto the terrace (veranda, balcony) to check the view in the garden.  Again, he observed nothing but unnatural stillness as far as the eye could see. Ahead, the main fountain's water, tear shaped and motionless, was trapped in its trajectory. Beyond the carefully landscaped hedges, ripples were frozen solid on the manufactured pond as a golden carp balanced on the water like a brass statue to snatch a motionless mosquito. Even the air itself had stilled. There was no evidence, not in the slight, of the refreshing breeze that had previously caressed his cheeks and rustled the branches. There was no harmonious melody of the nocturnal insects to grace the ears.

04- THE  GARDEN STILLED

Returning to the great hall, he again sat down and taking a sip from his cup, wondered out loud, “Could I be dreaming this? Was the wine drugged and this is the resultant (ensuing) hallucination?”  Nevetsecnuac's mind, unbidden, brought back the vivid memory of his strange experience on Yekono Mountain. “No, only a great supernatural force or a magician of superior caliber could cause (bring about) such an all-encompassing transformation of this magnitude.”  Nevetsecnuac quickly refuted (countered) his query.

"You are quite correct in that assumption; this is not a dream.” a voice boomed behind him.

“Zonar,” with hopeful anticipation, Nevetsecnuac turned only to be greeted by another, equally remarkable being. This distinguished giant of a man, in his late twenties bore the same wild mane of blazing red hair as Zonar, yet his features were somehow smoother.

The being inclined his head ever so slightly in greeting: "I apologize for the dramatics, but I very much wanted to make your acquaintance before I took my leave. You, of course, know who I am?"  He grimaced wryly as his eyes burrowed into Nevetsecnuac's.

Nevetsecnuac responded in kind with a smile and then bowed his head in polite greeting, to express with eloquence his pleasure at having this rare opportunity to, finally, make the Immortal Dwengzur’s acquaintance.

“Strange,” Dwengzur noted, “this is the first time my abilities have been rendered so ineffective. This one's willpower is so strong; it is like an impenetrable wall. Never have I seen its like, though the ruler of this very country, Wenjenkun, did come close.” 

05-IMMORTAL DWENGZUR

Dwengzur , who could manifest his presence at any age and therefore had picked a form (an appearance) closer to Fradel’s in order to put him at his ease, was intrigued. “So, you have been forewarned of my telepathic powers, I see.”  Dwengzur narrowed his eyes. “By the same token, you know how I needed to make contact in a certain way to achieve my purpose and you should have therefore been at your ease. Contrarily, you are so circumspect; just what is it that you are guarding against so vehemently?”

True enough, Nevetsecnuac was chary (cautious) of Dwengzur's abilities and paying heed to his intuition, had erected barriers in his mind and marshaled his thoughts in the most abstract, least damaging direction. The gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach still warned him that Dwengzur was untrustworthy, dangerous, and far more powerful than he let on. There was also another strong reason for Nevetsecnuac to be wary of this Immortal. Hadn't Dwengzur been the one who, colluding with Egil Viggoaries, warned the eunuch of Fradel Rurik Korvald’s portent of danger to his life? The inner conflict, only moments before expertly masked and prevented from coloring his random thoughts, presently in defiance (rebelliously), swelled within Nevetsecnuac to turn into sheer disdain for Dwengzur; for the mere presence of this Immortal gave truth to Zonar’s dreaded fate. Nevetsecnuac, clenched his teeth in utter contempt, recalling the charred remains that presently was hung in the Central Square.

“Ah,” Dwengzur conceded inwardly, never once taking his eyes off Nevetsecnuac, the mind ruled by reason, may oftentimes be tamed; but the senses, a victim of emotions, was at odds here. Once such conflict exists, it will open a crack in yet the strongest armor and then, even the steadfast resistance would be rendered vulnerable. Emotions are the human failing that eventually betray the most resolute will. Dwengzur grinning, more astutely now, studied Fradel.  Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald had obviously harbored a certain fond admiration for Zonar which, strangely enough, seemed to have been reciprocated. This is the advantageous material, which Dwengzur had grasped.  At present, by exploiting this singular aspect he hoped to extract more data, same time sought to gratify his curiosity and ascertain that no forbidden knowledge had been communicated by Chandor- (Renegade Zandar Kuntzu) or by his son, Zonar, to the outside world. Everyone within Karn Race, had to abide steadfastly by this ancient law, for even the least breach could warrant only one outcome and, it had been with the intention to tie up any loose ends, to terminate (cease) any leaks that, Dwengzur, had made this flamboyant visitation and sought out Fradel.

Dwengzur, had conveniently forgotten of course, his own foible (imperfection)just last week, at which point in time he had been tricked by guileful Egil Viggoaries to reveal a secret incantation that enabled one to (shapeshift) transform into any form or being. But he was not at all worried about that kink, and Egil Viggoaries had been forewarned of the dire consequence if he, being a mortal, ever tried to use it. Nevertheless, Dwengzur shook his head, to purge the memory of that dreadful blunder of his, from his mind and then, striding over to Nevetsecnuac, casually helped himself to a drink.

"You'd rather it was he, who greeted you now." Dwengzur said, after he had drained the second cup in one gulp. "We originate from the same race after all, Zonar Kuntzu and I… That is the name you knew him by, is it not?"

Not caring whether he received an answer, the Immortal looked disdainfully about him, sweeping the guests with a gesture of his hand and spoke. "Hah! For all their schemes and paltry ambitions (goals), they are such gullible, predictable bores. Don't you agree? They hold such high opinion of themselves, yet they spend their brief life's energy on such selfish, trivial pursuits. But perhaps this one could be the exception that proves the rule." Strangely enough, Dwengzur had pointed to Zaur Stugr, then added, "And you’re most notable self, of course." Dwengzur waited for a spell, but again the goad had produced no (satisfactory) typical response.

06- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC) JP 3

Turning his fiery gaze back to Nevetsecnuac, Dwengzur had met only an unflinching, dispassionate, blank stare (gaze). Well, where is that explosive rebuff, the unbridled anger so typical of your species (kind)?

“Are you not in the least bit curious as to why I've singled out this minister in particular?”  Dwengzur grumbled in barely audible voice.

“You will enlighten me when you’re ready.” Nevetsecnuac had lowered his guard for a second or two, to allow the Immortal to read this thought. After shrugging to simply indicate indifference, he again erected the mental barriers and, coolly looked away.

Dwengzur marvelled at Fradel’s outstanding, disciplined mind. “Such an unusual self-control; what would it take to provoke you?”

Dwengzur's slight irritation hinted at the exasperation he felt and confirmed Nevetsecnuac's suspicions that the Immortal's abilities far exceeded what had been rumored.  Nevetsecnuac smiled, grasping at once the reasons why Dwengzur had perpetuated the false notion, (that he relied on the placing of hands coupled with the recitation of an arcane spell to penetrate a man's innermost thoughts,) and the limitations. Otherwise, he would not have been, so well tolerated in Royal Court or received any cooperation from those of real consequence. Meanwhile Nevetsecnuac had well affirmed his suspicions that Dwengzur was capable of reading anyone’s mind, without the theatrics, from close proximity, provided that the targeted individual was conscious (wakeful) and was caught unawares. Had the conscious state of the individual not been a prerequisite, Dwengzur would not have bothered with this spectacle and would have scanned Nevetsecnuac's mind, anytime and anywhere, when he was sleep, inebriated or (when rendered) in a trance.

 A broad smile reached Nevetsecnuac's lips, as he had just then conceived of a way to effectively deal with this Immortal.

07- IMMORTAL DWENGZUR

Just then however, Nevetsecnuac's eye caught the gleaming pendant that at that moment had manifested at the surface of the garment; prior it had been invisible, as it was fastened to Dwengzur's inner garment. Nevetsecnuac shifted his stance with unease recalling, during one of their long drinking sessions, certain facts that Zaur Stugr had inadvertently disclosed. For instance, how Egil Viggoaries for a time had held certain sway (dominance) over the Immortal Dwengzur, after he had stealthily (slyly, cunningly) obtained the amulet and well concealed it, till such a time, he had been forced to relinquished it to Zakhertan Yozdek.  The pendant had allegedly contained a piece of the Immortal's umbilical cord (from birth), therefore was, most essential, for the continuance of the Immortal’s existence. Yet, here it was, in safe keep of the Immortal.

Nevetsecnuac skeptically narrowed his eyes, questioning at present, the validity of the rest of Zaur Stugr’ proclaimed facts. True or false, it could have also been a purposeful ruse by Dwengzur, who by design had leaked this misinformation. Egil Viggoaries could have been further duped into believing that he could utilize it to subjugate or even destroy the Immortal, at will. Zakhertan Yozdek believing in the same had forcefully confiscated it, only to lose it shortly thereafter. Regardless, the pendant's importance, could not be, entirely dismissed.

As Nevetsecnuc had not concealed these musings, Dwengzur picking it up, had been totally amazed at the scope and insightfulness of, scholar Fradel’s brilliant mind. The umbilical cord nonsense had been, in fact, a misinformation. The amulet’s suitability was determined solely by Immortal’s genetic markers. Even if another had obtained the object (talisman), the link could never be established and they, mortal or immortal, could never be able to exploit the rock sprit known as Cassars, who was the entity trapped within it, to further their agenda; furthermore, the genetic markers if tampered with, would have only resulted in the destruction of the amulet. The immortal, who was the guardian, had the inherent right, to name (any name of his choosing,) this enslaved entity. The talisman (amulet), far from being advantageous, it was more a bane, a blight, to the Immortal, for once the link was established, the Immortal wearing the amulet and his ward (Cassar), from then on, would be in a symbiotic relationship: each being aware of the other’s feelings, sensations, discernment, impressions, and experiences. Cassars being an unruly, wily, and rapacious creatures, the Immortal had to from then on, tolerate and endure the creature’s vile sensations (feelings) and, it’s most abhorrently repellent thoughts!

08- CESSARS A_edited 2

Dwengzur’s attention was suddenly drawn to Nevetsecnuac’s next inner query.

Why had Dwengzur, seen fit to accost him (Fradel) at this specific time and place; why hadn’t the Immortal made his presence known much earlier on, when he (Fradel) was alone in the garden, or in his quarters with far less dramatics? 

Just as abruptly thereafter, Fradel’s thoughts had again ceased being clear and, became vague (imprecise) or altogether hidden, to Dwengzur.

He can do this at-will? Dwengzur was quite impressed.

An icy tension had suddenly gripped Nevetsecnuac’s limbs meanwhile when the answer to his inner query had become all too apparent. Nevetsecnuac subsequently, guardedly, had conceived this future response: “He did not expect to have things easy with me. He needs a roomful of hostages to force my hand; I must therefore resist being, antagonized. Absence of least emotion may minimize the damage.” 

 Dwengzur in the interim, having received no further input, fetched himself another full jug of wine and poured himself three capfuls; after he gulped the fragrant brew down in quick successions, he threw a cursory glance back at this elusive Fradel Rurik Korval. Truth-be-told, Fradel’s fine, regal bearing, his exceptional good looks, his intelligence, tenacity, and other apparent strengths might have impressed Dwengzur if he did not so utterly despise all humans. To him humankind was the lowest form of life (species) on the evolutionary scale, ranking just below (maggots) slime worms.

Suddenly requiring a more comfortable place to sit; especially one by the window, Dwengzur impatiently snapped his fingers, to forcibly eject two prominent dignitaries at the adjacent table and hurl them clear across the room to land, headfirst in a heap of dishes, on a far table. Seating himself in one of the vacated plush chairs he casually indicated that Fradel Rurik Korvald should take the other seat now positioned across from him and waited until the scholar, albeit dejectedly, had complied.

"Would you care to share a drink with me?" he asked with an enigmatic grin, pouring the draught into another available cup, and placing it before the scholar.  His manner was most dignified even though the tone was cutting, while at the same time congenial and sincere. His affable gaze fixed on Fradel, it was saying: “let us dispense with the formalities, shall we? And no more games; after-all, I know all there is to know about you and your kind. You may as well relax your vigil and painlessly surrender to my will as this is as inevitable as tomorrow's sunrise.”

Though his distrust of Dwengzur counselled him to decline the offer of wine Nevetsecnuac's good breeding prevented him from so openly antagonizing the Immortal. Reluctantly, with thanks he shared, four more capfuls, all the while marshaling his thoughts, unrelenting and obstinate as ever, in his attempt to frustrate Dwengzur's persistent aims.

 

(END OF SECTION 2)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 9

 Nevetsecnuac, having decided to meet Zaur halfway then, more clearly proceeded to solicit (request) Zaur Stugr's help, "If it would not be too much of an imposition (trouble) Minister Stugr, perhaps you could entrust it to the proper authorities so that, in keeping with my promise to Yakkasar, it may be returned to the pit in question.  I would be most appreciative if you would inform me also of the further developments, especially ones leading to resolving this rather intriguing (fascinating) mystery."

Expressing moderate curiosity, Zaur Stugr graciously accepted the task of handling this trivial matter at his earliest convenience. 

01 ZAUR STUGR JP 12

"And perhaps there may be other historical artifacts that would be of importance, warranting excavation at the site." he smiled mischievously. Then as if in an afterthought, Zaur gravely added, "Of course this province is riddled with many such graves and pits of varying sizes, containing skeletons, corpses of indicted dissidents, cadaver of convicts and traitors, whom all of course, richly deserved their ill fate.”

“In any case best to be prudent, with this investigation and in enlisting help. Then there is the requirement for a permit, which I must attain, from the works department. But I may need more data…”   He abruptly looked up at Fradel.

After a seeming hesitancy and purposeful pause, proclaiming that he needed this in case the authorities questioned him on it, Zaur urged Fradel Rurik Korvald to jog his memory about the specifics of the topography or any other identifying landmarks in the vicinity of the pass which may assist in quicker resolve or at least, an educated guess as to its location.

Fradel agreed to this, with a lowered head, pretended to be lost in deep thought for a time, presumably jogging his memory.

 Zaur (with a puckered brow) grimacing, studied Fradel for a moment; then with an affable tone, introduced a suggestion. "This may help; from the details you've offered already, I've deduced that it could be Kneco, Cyprecox, or Yeruz Pass."

Nevetsecnuac pretending to have just then recollected some pertinent facts, cried out, " Yes, that's it, the very one. I remember now.  It was the Cyprecox Pass that Yakkasar was headed for.  Though he did refer to Kneco Pass, it was at a different time and in an entirely unrelated context."

"Now you're quite certain about this?" Zaur studied Fradel with concealed anxiety.

"Quite certain," Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) reaffirmed then, pretending that he'd remembered more of what Yakkasar had told him, readily volunteered (furnished) more specifics (details) regarding the location, much to Zaur's satisfaction.

"Well, this night's conversation has been quite dynamic and rather fruitful (productive).  Thank you for presenting me with this most intriguing opportunity; I'll do all that I can to resolve this mystery for you." Zaur Stugr promised earnestly, quickly dismissing Fradel’s uttered, profuse gratitude.

Smiling affably, he then begged Fradel's indulgence and patience, cautioning the scholar not to get his hopes up too high, for the truth once uncovered, might not be as enriching or colorful as supposed (or imagined).

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) politely yawned to express his fatigue, and then quickly proposed (suggested) that they should retire for the night.

Finding this most agreeable, Zaur signaled for the servant in attendance, to have the repast be cleared soon as they left; after which he solicitously (ushered) escorted Fradel to his sleeping quarters, before retiring himself to his own suite.

                                                                                               ~

Short time later, when all were tucked and happily sleeping under their warm quilts, Zaur Stugr quietly rose from his bed and going over, retrieved a small flagon (flask) he kept in the second drawer of the night table. Removing the seal, he gulped (ingested), enough of the special tonic, which quickly (in a short span) deleted the ill effects of excessive drinking and restored one’s full faculties.  Zaur next, taking special care not to wake any of his personal servants, washed his face, swiftly changed his clothes and quietly snuck outside.

02- ZAUR STUGR

Though Nevetsecnuac's speculation had come exceedingly close to the truth, he could not have imagined the depth of gravity that this key had held for Zaur Stugr.

Zaur, very much sobered now by his pumping adrenaline, held out a small oil lamp before him to illuminate the way, as he hastily proceeded with determined steps through a maze of hallways and garden paths.  Eventually he arrived at the old study on the far side of the East wing.

The wing had been sealed off ever since Kokone Iver, the previous owner's beloved third concubine committed suicide after being sexually assaulted (violated, raped) by one of, Rujune Iver’s esteemed house guests.  The strange gruesome apparition who had persistently haunted (appeared in) the hallways after her tragic demise, was attributed to her restless, unavenged spirit.

The perpetrator guest rapist, called Lord Nirekel Konuer, had at the time been far too powerful and too well connected to the higher officials; and so, despite Rujune Iver's efforts to bring him to justice, he had escaped punishment.

The subsequent grave rift that had existed as consequence, between Rujune Iver and Lord Nirekel Konuer, had outlasted the culprit Nirekel’s eventual horrific demise from a mysterious, sudden ailment.

 The hostility between the Konuer and Iver Clans had in due course, fostered some violent repercussions; especially since, the rumors concerning Rujune’s visits to a famous shaman in the workers' quarters, and this having something to do with Lord Nirekel’s sudden, macabre death, had persisted for many a year. And despite the absence of any solid evidence, the incidences of savage retributions, the bloodshed continued (to rock the Capital) for quite some length of time to eventually die down. 

But not before Rujune Iver, having been persecuted unmercifully by Lord Nirekel Konuer's ardent cliques, had eventually lost the favor he had at court and, having been subsequently charged with treason, suffered the extreme death penalty.  Unfortunately, this had meant the extinction of his entire clan, including his wife and concubines as well as, all the family's property (estate) being confiscated by the state.  Yet, because of the purported haunting of the East wing, this otherwise exceptional mansion in the heart of the Capital had remained unsold and untenanted (vacant).

Zaur was only a minor official but one with promising future at that time and had just been transferred to a more lucrative posting in the Capital.  Not being superstitious in the least and assured that no senior official wanted the property, he was quick to seize this opportunity and procure Rujune Iver’s magnificent mansion for an affordable price.  Seeing that it was to his advantage to continue, the purported belief in the haunting Zaur gave outward credence to the stories and sealed off the East wing, declaring it off limits to everyone and all his staff.

03-GHOST Kokone Iver  IN THE EAST WING

Then covertly engaging trusted workmen, he had a secret tunnel constructed directly into the unused wing from a niche in the outer wall.  Zaur Stugr’s planning and vigilance had paid off and, unknown to his family and staff, he henceforth had conducted all clandestine matters on these premises.

For over five years now, with none the wiser to the comings and goings, he had been able to establish a vast underground web of alliance and intrigue that had escaped all detection.  This was no small feat for the Sovereign possessed an elite and very effective Secret Police (as well as, the ruthless Black Band Guard Regiment) in addition to the rival spy networks established by Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and Minister of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries (also affiliated with The Black Molochs).

Halting before a tall, green door Minister Zaur Stugr thumbed the keys at his belt and, finding the right one, inhaled deeply to steady him-self before he turned it in the lock.  Lifting the latch, he opened the door softly.  Only the rush of air leaving the room disturbed the quiet of the night.  Stepping inside, his eyes briefly perused the rare antiquities that adorned the shelves, the countless valuable scrolls that were housed in specially constructed wall units that took up two walls all on their own, the plush sofa off in the corner and the desk with its neat pile of documents awaiting his decisions.  Things were exactly as he had left them.  Reassured, he turned and bolted the door behind him. He walked over the desk and opening the top drawer took out the certain (booby trapped) letter his agent Kaelan had delivered to him a week before Fradel Rurik Korvald’s arrival.

He’d been so burdened (engaged) playing host to illustrious scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald in addition to his other Ministerial duties that he had deferred this matter till later time. In truth he was still undecided about what to do about the letter (whom his agent had retrieved from the dead body of the doomed courier Disaidun Agripe otherwise known as Miss Jepipi), which had been the source of Lord Shouzi Yozdek’s blackmail for about two years by The Black Molochs.

Zaur could not help smiling, knowing how infuriated Egil Viggoaries must have been, when word reached him that the letter had been lost to him.  How many must have suffered consequently.

“Unfortunately, the plan had not gone as well as he’d anticipated; for Zunrogo Tugo was still alive and well… Hmm, the cur must have found out about the switch and kept it quiet. “

“Oh well you can’t win them all.”  Zaur shrugged.

“As for the letter…” Zaur shook his head. “It can wait.”  Unfortunately, at present he was too pressed for time to deal with this, when other more pressing matters (issues) and tasks demanded his attention first; and so, he quickly put it back in the top drawer and closed it.

Advancing with deliberate strides, he veered around the long, ornate desk until he reached a specific wall unit on the far wall.

 Holding up the oil lamp, he pulled out one specific scroll and placed it on the desk.  Then, putting his hand into the slot from which he had retrieved the document, he applied a firm pressure with his index finger to a groove in the lower left corner of the exposed wall.  Immediately the entire wall slid noiselessly aside to expose a hidden room behind.

Air tinged with musk rushed out at once to assail his nostrils as pitch darkness greeted his eyes.  Crinkling up his nose, Zaur shook his head.  He had not been in this room for some time and due to obvious neglect, everything was shrouded in an inch deep snow of dust that now whirled about, stirred by the air from the outer study.

“First thing tomorrow I must have Zyerne clean this place up.  This disorder is inexcusable.”

For now, the space was in immediate need of ventilation.  He looked around in the lamplight at the mass of volumes packed up all the walls until he spied on one small window high up next to the ceiling, hidden from the outside by a set of elaborate eaves.

 Striding over, he positioned a sturdy chair beneath the aperture and pried the shutter open just a crack, just enough to let in the fresh air he needed to relieve his lungs of this (ever-present) invasive constriction.  He winced as he reflected how this hidden room had been designed by the long dead original architect more like a vault of an elaborate tomb than a study.  Its purpose had been obvious but, incredibly, Rujune Iver’s demise had come too fast for him to have made use of its contents to his own advantage.  Fortunately for Zaur, these carefully catalogued documents, containing amassed evidence against the most prominent (noble, patrician) aristocratic families and the vast reserve of valuables and cash secreted in this room, had escaped detection by the court's investigators when the property had been confiscated (impounded) by the state.  With his analytical mind, keen sense, and deductive reasoning, Zaur Stugr had been the only one to, shortly after acquiring the property; discover this invaluable chamber's existence.

Stepping down, he walked back to the entrance.  From there he took the familiar measured paces, first straight ahead, then to the left, and then to the right then again left.

About five years ago, he had further discovered several vaults, each laden with cache (stockpiles, hoards) of gold, silver, and jewels, beneath the ingeniously designed, geometric marble- flooring. 

Depending on the combination of serious of consecutive (successive) steps and the pressure put on by one’s own weight, the specific squire floor tile would rise and then move aside to reveal an opening with the descending stairs leading to that specific vault’s contents. 

Right now, however, he was only after one of his own constructions.

Squatting, he placed the lamp off to one side, loosened the specific floor tile with his bare hands, lifted it and dug out a slightly tarnished metal box from its hiding place.  Meticulously, he brushed the dust from it then, with trembling hands, positioned his newly acquired bejeweled key over the keyhole on the box's side.

Suddenly his heart was seized with apprehension.  “What if this key's construction was merely a bizarre coincidence?  What if it did not match this box at all?” 

In the past he had attempted everything he could think of to open this unyielding encasement but without the least bit of success.  The unusual metal, the design and construction of the box had resisted any attempt at tampering with it. 

He exhaled, “Well, there's only one way to find out.”

With certain determination he placed the key into the hole, and, to his great elation, it turned, moving long unused tumblers inside the locking mechanism.  His heart pounded wildly.  At long last it was now within his means to uncover the secret long buried within! 

But then he hesitated, and his expression gradually hardened to mirror his troubled thoughts.

“What if now, after all this time…,” dejectedly he shook his head. 

“Anyhow, what good would it do?”  In his mind's eye he could see the accusing finger stubbornly pointed at him and at the same time a strong sense of foreboding gripped his heart.

“No!  Right or wrong, I could not have confided in Sanzo.  Not after the disclaimer.”

Eventually he picked up the lamp and, rising to his feet once more with the box in his other hand, walked over and sat down (sunk his body) on the plush sofa by the desk.  Absently he stared at the box for some time, affectionately caressing it, letting his fingers trace out the curved indentations which mimicked exactly the design of the key.  He noted how, in one corner they were scaled exactly to the size of the key. “Odd,” he mused, “it’s as if there's a purpose to it.”

 Struck by a sudden intuition, he took the key from the lock and placed it sideways on against the corner, noting how it fit snugly into the carved design.  Inside the box more tumblers moved.

“So, there was a disarming mechanism as well.”  Zaur Stugr was glad he had not rushed to open the obvious booby-trapped box.

A sad, aggrieved (wounded, pained, hurt) expression just then took hold of his features.

“It’s been so long, so very long!”

(END OF SECTION 9) 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 6

Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and Fradel Rurik Korvald (riding on horseback) were still some distance away from any settlement or an Inn when dusk fell.  As if to multiply Fradel's misery, suddenly strong winds ushered a flotilla of dark, ominous clouds, which threatened to let loose a downpour at any time.

 Just then they sighted a thatched hut in the distance, and, in silent agreement, they both steered their horses towards it.  Obvious signs told them that the place had long been abandoned. Two lonely graves outside and a stench rising from the well attested to the tragic story of its residents.

Nevetsecnuac pushed the door open with an eerie creak and, lighting a torch quickly surveyed the dilapidated state of the interior.  The lit torch at once caused the infestation of rodents, lizards and insects to scurry away.

Nevetsecnuac brushed away the cobwebs then pushed the broken furniture and debris to one side to clear out a corner.  Inviting Fradel to rest there, he went back outside to secure the horses and meet their requirements for food and water.  When he returned Nevetsecnuac found that Fradel had made good use of this time to clear out the stove and start a small fire using kindling and charcoal chips that littered the floor.

So, he's not as helpless without servants as he claimed. Nevetsecnuac mused.  Good!

That night, sheltered from the wind and rain, for the roof leaked in only one or two places, they shared dry rations boiled over the fire to make a stew.  Fradel, more accustomed to wine and savory dishes, consumed a good share of this food without complaint, washing it down with water.  To Nevetsecnuac’s relief, the pampered scholar had proved adaptable and, more to the point, resilient.

After they retired Fradel found it impossible to sleep.  The excitement of that day, the eerie atmosphere of the room, the pelting rain on the roof, his hard makeshift (improvised) bedding and the coarse food had all conspired to keep him awake.  As the night progressed his distress became even more acute.

Now every shadow, every sound stretched his nerves taut.  Several ugly visages leered menacingly at him from the dark corners of the room but when he sat up and stubbornly fixed them with his stare they reverted back to ordinary objects.  Again, he shot occasional glances in Svein's direction and seeing him in deep slumber, suppressed an urge to grunt a would-be protest, “For Heaven’s sake, how can you sleep so soundly?”

Exhausted, Fradel reclined once more, then becoming aware of someone else's presence, he jumped up. This time, however, the apparition (ghost, phantom) was outside of the window.  As the window had no covering, he walked towards it and at the same time strained his eyes to see through the dark, the just then manifest, vacillating (fluctuating) iridescent specter.   The form drawn to closer proximity, become clearer, and he could now make out the tragic countenance of an elderly woman, which presently stretched out her arms in supplication and sobbed: “Save me, sir!  Save me!” 

Fradel was about to respond when, suddenly, out of the pitch darkness, three fearsome black wolves materializing (emerging), leapt upon her and sank their long fangs into her flesh; with such a voracious appetite, their prey (target) was instantaneously gone. Subsequently, crunching the last remanence of bones and lapping up the victim's blood, the trio of wolves licked their fur clean, thence, all three menacingly directed their attention on Fradel. They pivoted their blazing eyes on Fradel and began advancing towards him with deliberate slowness, with their tongues lolling, drooling at the mouth, as they panted.

Fradel, recoiling in terror, could not move a muscle, especially since one of the black wolves suddenly appeared inside and right beside him.

Fradel, resigned to his fate, held his breath and closed his eyes, expecting to be mauled, disemboweled and eaten to the last morsel by the rapacious wolves; unexpectedly however, the beasts simply vanished, when Sven just then stirred and, without turning to face him, asked: "What is it?”

"Nothing, nothing at all; it was just a bad dream (nightmare).  I'm sorry to have awakened you."

 Of course, Fradel's disclaimer was belied by the beads of perspiration on his forehead.  He tasted their salt as they dripped onto his lips; currently back on his hard bedding, he sullenly reclined and turned his back to Svein, as if to sleep.

 My strained nerves are playing tricks on me. Fradel consoled himself.  I'd best try to get some sleep.  With determination he closed his eyes tight but, just as he was about to drift off into the dream world, a rustling sound piqued his curiosity, and he once more lifted his eyelids to investigate.

This time his eyes beheld, in the center of the room, an enchanting, most beautiful fairy maiden’s apparition. Furthermore, smiling most alluringly at Fradel, she beckoned to him.  As he sat upright to acknowledge her, she suddenly turned into Cobarkek who, gritting his teeth, glowered at Fradel.

The scholar was seized with an inexplicable terror, recalling the bandit chief's last words to him, “I will deal with you later.”

He was about to call out to Svein when Cobarkek's head detached itself from his body, floated upwards and began to spin.  When it stopped, just in front of Fradel, the mouth opened wide and a reptilian, double-pointed tongue lashed out and coiled itself tightly around Fradel's neck, choking him.  Fradel struggled in vain to free himself, gasping for breath.

Again, Svein stirred, and Cobarkek's head simply vanished.

 Fradel found the culprit to be nothing more than the loosened strips of his head bandage that had fallen down around his neck.  Just as he was about to laugh at his own folly, Cobarkek's ghost reappeared.  Once more the scholar recoiled in terror as he watched the phantom metamorphosis into a frightful demon with grizzled red hair, blue face, glittering eyes, a saw-toothed razor-sharp grin and a blood red flickering tongue.  With green slime oozing from its four nostrils and its six arms flailing it advanced towards Fradel.  Paralyzed from the neck down, Fradel opened his mouth to cry for help, but no sound was issued forth.

As the scholar was struggling to scream, Svein suddenly sprang to his feet and hacked the demon into two halves with one blow.  Both halves toppled to the floor, motionless, giving off a dense bluish vapor that settled into a putrid mass which oozed under the floorboards.

Svein turned to smile reassuringly at Fradel, "It's all over now, go back to sleep."  Then, quite unruffled, he lay down once more, facing the wall, to fall asleep.

Fradel leaned over to ask, in amazement, "Aren't you afraid?"

"I used to be", Svein confessed.  "When I was younger, but now I know there is nothing to be afraid of."  He shrugged his shoulders under his blanket.

 "This is to be expected.  All abandoned places have their share of ghosts and demons, but they can only harm us if we let them."

Fradel nodded and also reclined in order to sleep once more.  He was very comforted by Svein's presence and, gradually, his heartbeat returned to normal.  Drawing closer, he whispered his thanks to Svein but the other just let out a disquieting laugh and, when Svein turned around to face Fradel, he wore Cobarkek's face.

With a start Fradel awoke and sat up, a crazy gleam playing in his eyes.  When he steadied his heart once more, he realized that all of it had been a dream.  But was it really?  He had an eerie feeling about it all.

At the far corner a huge rat was gnawing at an empty flour bag as it flashed its red eyes at him.  Standing up, Fradel strolled to the window and peered outside.  It was just before dawn and he saw Svein harnessing the horses, anxious to be on the road again.

Before they left, on Fradel's insistence, they dug a new grave and fished the corpse out of the well.  Despite the decayed condition of the body, Fradel at once recognized the old lady in his dream.  Giving her a proper burial next to the other two mounds, they allowed the poor woman to find lasting peace in the afterlife with her husband and daughter.

Svein then mounted his horse and urged Fradel Rurik Korvald to follow suit.

 Looking back on the three small mounds, another painful memory intruded into Fradel's thoughts.  In a deep silence he hung his head; his face was long and drawn as he reflected over this past, tragic episode.  Absentmindedly he pivoted his mount around and let it follow Fiery Comet onto the open road. 

(END OF SECTION 6)

 

 

 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)