11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 9

 

Worren Youkup had realized that it was now too late for him to extricate himself from this terrible fix (pickle). The breach of trust could never be mended; besides which, how could he, albeit subtly, inquisition Sejon to arrive at the whole truth? And what would he do with the truth? Worst still, what if she professed her innocence and started to cry? 

 

01- WORREN YOUKUP (6)JP

The circumstances, whatever the prospects, all ended up stymieing Worren Youkup. While reflecting on the worse scenario, the old tutor's concerns gradually shifted to his loyal retinue of servants who would be summoned by Egil Viggoaries for questioning and inevitably be tortured until under duress they, confessed to all the real and imagined gaffes (errors) their Master might have committed. Steward Chutek, he knew, being his favorite, would fare the worst. “Should I report directly to? No.” He shook his head to rid himself of the grim images of the horror he would endure at the hands of Egil Viggoaries.    

“No, it is best I fabricate an errand and send Chutek out of harm’s way to my friend Tonzeye Yevgun in Chukset Province before the truth breaks.” A sealed, confidential letter with brief explanative of the situation, along with Chutek’s emancipation papers and a generous settlement to provide him with fresh start in new life, could all be forwarded to his friend Tonzeye, well in advance of Chutek’s arrival. Having settled on this course, Worren nodded decisively, “Yes, I shall address that matter immediately after my visit with Lady Sejon.” As it were, he still needed to ascertain, few things first. His prior urgent engagements, meanwhile, now having become less pressing would have to be postponed. After some more time spent in contemplation, Worren in desperate need of forty winks (sleep), even for just an hour or two to regenerate, eventually made his way back to his bed and crawled under the silk brocade comforter. Lying on his back, with the fragrant, plush (luxurious) bedcover pulled up to his chin, eyes shut tight, he still could not fall asleep (doze off, catnap), nor could he shake the feeling of foreboding (doom and gloom) that hovered over his head, particularly with the vivid images of that cursed dream incessantly parading in his mind’s eye. With decisive effort he finally pushed aside all those dreadful, fearful thoughts and concentrated instead on the serene scene of his childhood, to regulate his breathing and relax his mind; however, hours passed still with still no sleep.     

As he desperately needed to get at the truth and to save face, his thoughts had once more turned back on the manner of approach he would take with Lady Sejon when tomorrow he visited her. Sejon did not normally receive visitors until after noon, but Worren Youkup was determined to pay a surprise visit to the Lady's apartments shortly after dawn. He would wake her up, if necessary, and extricate a satisfactory explanation from her. He had settled on the stern approach, and he was determined not be intimidated by any tears; however, he would exercise patience and curtail his temper, affording her the opportunity to air her defense, if only for civility’s sake. There was no gratification in berating a frailer being. If on the other hand, he was to let go of this and overlook her part in it, left unchecked, she might continue injuring others in this way. At least she should be made to see the error of her ways; and that was why it was imperative he had a candid talk with her.   

Worren Youkup felt more at ease, almost comforted, to be back in his role as tutor until, his rage; unexpectedly rising (escalating) anew, this time was directed at his own failings. This sort of blunder would not have happened even as short as one year ago. What was happening to him? Was he suddenly going soft in the head? Channing was a dangerous place for the injudicious; would he survive the next akin blunder? Worren Youkup did not fear death as such; but he was proud of his prior accomplishments and had always been self-righteous in his actions. What he feared most was to, pass away (expire) with besmirched reputation. His status and good name meant everything to him. In his span of seventy years, he had lived in accordance with what he believed and preached, with perfect decorum and etiquette, with unfaltering loyalty to family and home, and staunch, undying devotion to the Sovereign and the State. His good standing was the only legacy; besides, seventeen insignificant compilations of literary works left in the Royal Library that he would leave behind when his mortal form was reduced to dust. How could he remedy this recent failing which would leave such a culpable imprint, a shameful blemish, on his otherwise perfect, impeccable life's work? How could he erase this grave mistake? It could not be done. Why not then, without further delay bravely admit his failing to Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek and stoically accept his ignominious end and be done with it?   

In this agitated state and with his skin prickling Worren Youkup had remained awake the remainder of the night, staring blankly at the canopy of the bed, oftentimes tossing, and turning, his mind reeling with endless cycles of self-recrimination. One minute cursing his advanced age and cowardice at not being able to swiftly end his life with measure of decorum, then in the next breath, cursing the ill-fated times they all lived in where which evil thrived in every crevice of life. Rounding out these thoughts was memories of Lady Sejon and, dire oaths to never again let him be manipulated or cajoled by womanly wiles.  He cast aside the covers and set at the edge of the bed. He was incensed (infuriated, exasperated) with himself. It should never have happened. What an asinine thing to do!

He clenched his fists till his knuckles were white.  It was humiliating enough to be duped or, to put it kindlier, swayed by her charms. He had been lately, because of Prince Mangnian, fallen into the habit of calling on her in the afternoons to enjoy her delightful company, while partaking tea and tiny cucumber sandwiches which were his favorites. Those times, he would also, with approval, observe her performance (playing the role) of the conscientious, dutiful mother, very much concerned with the welfare and correct upbringing of her son, Prince Magnian.

 

02- LADY SEJON  YOZDEDK  (104)

   

How cunning of her to have tapped into his largest weakness; his firmly held belief that, overall, mothers were special, wonderful, and superior beings, to be perpetually esteemed, everlastingly revered, and rightly accorded a treasured status in every civilized society. He had worshipped his own mother who had been lost to him in early childhood, as the archetype of human treasures. His (recollections) memories of her countless loving ministrations, to date, still brought tears to this eye. As with all things there were of course, the sinister/ dark exceptions in Channing, more precisely the Royal Court of present regime, which had brought together more than its fair share of the ambitious, the grasping and detestable lot that sadly marred the sacred graces of motherhood.    

Sejon a good mother? Hah! he scoffed. He bristled as he thought, in hindsight, how her sort treated their own children, flesh of their flesh, as if they were but inanimate objects to be used as lethal weapons to further their own ambitions. There was no family feeling or respect here, only naked greed. He was, just then, reminded of another similarly distasteful example of a bad mother. The memory caused his lips to curl away from his teeth slightly, oh, but Lady Lingrace was far worse. For too many years (more than he could count,) he had observed from the sidelines how her son, Heng Erling, had been subjected to constant ridicule and scorn, so masterfully initiated, that he did not even guess that he was being artfully manipulated into, furthering his   mother's vile ambitions. Lady Lingrace had once been the attendant to Lady Elin (Prince Qijerrik and Prince Herleif’s mother). During that time and, even after her husband Gustav Erling had been executed for treason, she had continued to, without shame, her not so secret, illicit affair with Zakhertan Yozdek. Shortly after Grand Marshal Gustav Erling’s execution, all members of his family including Heng's elder siblings had all been put to the sword. Heng Erling had been spared solely, and Worren Youkup was certain of this, because the boy was the illegitimate son of Zakhertan Yozdek.   

“Where did all you’re scheming get you in the end, Lady Lingrace Erling, all that conniving and treachery?”   Worren Youkup mumbling shrugged; he was secretly pleased at the ironic outcome. “You had managed to retain your fine good looks but in the end the signs of ageing had finally caught up with you. You became a has-been, but you refused to bow out gracefully and live quietly in the background.” Worren shook his head knowing, Lady Lingrace right up to the very end had competed with the younger favorites, scheming, and plotting, strangely enough still igniting Sovereign’s passion, and choosing to exist, though precariously, near the apex power.    

“I will never understand the insatiable drive that motivates such ambition; you, a married woman and as the lady- in- waiting to Prince Qijerrik’s mother Lady Elin, are guilty of violating most sacred trusts. When Grand Marshal Gustav Erling fell from grace after failing to capture Lord Zhon and the infant Prince Nevetsecnuac, and you were doomed to share his fate, was it not your betrayed head of household Lady Elin’ gracious and benevolent plea on your behalf, that had spared your wretched life and the life of your illegitimate spawn? Even after all that happened, you had not changed one bit; right to the end you had connived and plotted. Imagine sending Heng Erling, on not so secret, fool’s errand. I fear he had been lost to Sovereign forever, never to be heard from again. You had parlayed your bargaining chip on a bet and lost him. Then all it took was one minor incidence to cause your downfall; for who would care to defend an old relic who had an extensive history of perfidy?” Worren Youkup in a hushed voice had aired this entire grievance to the pitch, empty room; for to date, deep in his heart he still bore a lasting resentment towards Lady Lingrace Erling who, as a young woman, had spurned the friendly advances of the well-meaning young pupil of the Royal Tutor Keonz. Barely out of childhood herself, she had shown a talent for unconscionable duplicity and astuteness that evenly matched her budding beauty; arrogant and full of herself, she had dealings with and fawned only on those she had deemed useful.

03- YOUNG LADY  LINGRACE

She had advanced her cause first by marrying Gustav Erling and then ingratiating herself into the good graces of Lady Bera then Lady Elin. Unfortunately, the young scholar with no political or family connections and a potential future as a eunuch Royal Tutor’s protégé did not fall into that exalted category.  All the same Worren Youkup would have understood that, however, it was her years of unmitigated, taunting cruelty and belittlement he found so hard to forgive. Truly one of a kind she was. Worren absently nodded, recalling countless cases where she had demonstrated her proficiency in manipulation and how over the years the shrew had managed to get away with so much.    

Worren had never admitted it to anyone, but despite being constantly snubbed, once when he had been totally inebriated, during a rare, debauched encounter with Lady Lingrace Erling, he had learned at an early age, a most useful, albeit painful, lesson and pointers, regarding the antediluvian arts of corporal deception.

04- LADY LINGRACE

Even so, it had still baffled Worren because most discerning Zakhertan Yozdek, had tolerated her for as long as he had. How Zakhertan’s patience never appeared frayed when he dealt with her, even when he passed the death sentence on her as she quivered before him. Then again, who can ever fathom the motives of a Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek?   

You digress, Worren Youkup! Worren inwardly admonished self, shaking his head as if to purge such irrelevancies from his mind and, to steer his concentration back on the matters at hand. Sejon mighty be a different sort, but she was no less a vixen. With all his life's experiences, it shamed him to think how Lady Sejon had so artfully used his own weaknesses to advance her own aims.

On every visit she had enticed (bribed) him with his favorite small cucumber sandwiches and other rare and exquisite sweets, a particular vice he was not proud of, but one which enabled her to lure him into cooperative mood. Growing close to both mother and son, he had vicariously enjoyed the typical family life he had missed and coveted for his whole life. She had flattered him endlessly, feeding his ego by acting as if he was a nominal head of the family. Even though he was unofficially retired (and considered by few in the palace an honorable relic), she had asked him how best to educate and guide her now five-year-old infant son, saying it was never too early to begin a proper education. Though these assertions echoed his own sentiments, as he had asserted so many times in the past, they had appeared fresh and genuine when they came from her. He had been primed so artfully that he had played right into her hands, had willingly imparted to her the vital information, and unwittingly instructed her on the countless pertinent steps to take to make the smooth transition and to attain her hidden, ultimate goal-that of showing Prince Magnian as the only potential candidate to replace the already despised Crown Prince Herleif.  It was a boon to her cause that Magnian already exhibited good stamina, agility, and an unusual courage for a toddler (an infant). An adaptive learner, he had already with his adorable qualities, innately endeared himself to those that mattered.  

05- PRINCE MAGNIEN YOZDEK

The apparent potential of this child had pleased Zakhertan Yozdek enough that he had become a bit more disposed to Sejon’s sly, relentless suggestions, oftentimes when he rested in bed after a pleasurable activity. As it were, from birth Magnian had been kept under scrutiny and vigilantly protected from unforeseen hazards that had befallen his former siblings. 

By the time, the activity outside had gradually tapered off Worren, out of sheer exhaustion, had also drifted into a fitful sleep only to be woken abruptly minutes later by the morning bells.

 

(END OF SECTION 9) 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 27

One warm, starry night, when everyone had retired early, Fradel's keen senses awakened him to the intruder creeping into the stillness of his cabin.  Earlier, he had opened the porthole and drawn the curtains aside to take full advantage of the soft breeze.  The silvery moonlight streamed unobstructed into the tiny space, illuminating everything perfectly.  In the center of the room the long, narrow blade of the dagger (short sword) winked as the intruder, sensing danger, had halted, and glanced warily about. 

01- THE ASSASSIN

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) waited with bated breath for him to recommence (continue, resume) his advance or, to be stopped altogether.  He did not wish to act at once and apprehend the intruder himself for he had noted that, some time prior to this, Tizan had crept into his room and concealed himself in a dark corner.  He would wait and see what Tizan would do first.

The intruder, having steadied his heart and regulated his breathing once again, stole further across the room, quietly making his way to the bed.  Fradel felt the slight pressure of the tip of the cold blade against his naked flesh and held his breath.

 What is Tizan waiting for?  At that instant he saw his assailant viciously yanked back by his hair and, simultaneously, another dagger appeared at the intruder's own throat.

"Drop your weapon!" Tizan's commanding voice hissed.  "I said drop it!"

Perhaps out of bravado or out of sheer fright the attacker hesitated.  Then the pressure of the blade against his own throat increased and he winced as its razor edge pricked the flesh beneath his chin.

"All right… All right" The Assailant groaned, as a single drop of blood trickled off his neck to fall on Fradel's cheek.

Fradel pretended to have been startled awake just then and froze, wide eyed and perfectly still, as if petrified by fright.

The assailant, grunting, let loose his grip and the dagger dropped; for he instinctively knew,  that had he held on to it for one second longer, it would have meant the termination of his life.  Before he could buy some more time and use his glib tongue to strike a bargain, however, he was viciously yanked free of Fradel and hurled across the cabin.

Then he was picked up once more by Tizan's single hand grabbing his collar (lapel) and shoved against the wall.  The dagger's tip was once more pressed threateningly to his throat.

"You wouldn't dare kill me." The assailant groaned.

Fradel recognized the voice.  Sitting up, he craned his neck to see the face.

"Don't be so sure, Doku." Tizan glowered as he broke the captain's skin with the blade.  "You were a fool to drop your sails and cast anchor in mid-stream.  Did you think that we wouldn't notice?"  Tizan laughed coldly and widened the cut he had made, making Doku wince (cringe).  Blood flowed freely down onto Doku's chest where it painted streaks of crimson on his shirt.

Doku's face twitched with anxiety and contempt.  He clenched his fists as his chest rose and fell.  “Who’d manage (steer) the vessel?  Besides, you won't get far if you kill me.  Release me at once!" He threatened as his eyes contemptuously trailed Fradel, who had gotten up from the bed to put some clothes on.

"Oh, you mean your accomplices Zuak and Yoru?  By now, they're fish-fodder." Tizan grinned venomously.

A small shudder passed through Doku as he resisted the complete surrender of all hope; subsequently, he misinterpreted Tizan's broad, disarming smile and became somewhat encouraged. Dropping his eyes, he said, "Can't we work something out, something mutually advantageous?"  

All the same, bitterness had tinged his voice, repudiating (contradicting) his sincerity. "I have been paid most handsomely.  I'll gladly share half of it with you."

02- TZAN JP

Tizan's face crinkled in an expression of utter disgust.  The threat was most implicit in his silence, then, baring his teeth in a snarl, he Yanked Doku up by the hair.  "Let's move, swine." he hissed.  “Captain Zunrogo wants a few words with you."

Doku gasped, closed his eyes, and resisted being moved.  In a shaking, but somewhat defiant voice he entreated.  "There must be something negotiable for…? All right, all right, you can have it all. “Subsequently, the sheer terror registering in Doku’s eyes, he just squealed, “No, I won't go… be done with me right here and now."

"Don't tempt me."  Tizan Yanked the blade away at the same instant he twisted Doku's arm to his back, straining it to the breaking point then fiercely pushed him outside.

Desperate to break free, Doku pretended to lose his footing, falling face down to the floor; meanwhile, his free hand swiftly removed a hook he had concealed in his belt, and he turned to viciously strike out at Tizen.  But Tizan had seen through this ruse and, with a swift kick at the hook, he catapulted it out of Doku's hand towards the ceiling, where it embedded itself securely in the wooden beam.  As he dodged the next kick, in one fluid motion, Tizen next threw a powerful punch, and Doku (almost senseless) fell back onto the deck.

 "Get up, swine!" Tzen grunted as he landed Doku with a fierce kick to the side; then, grasping Doku’s neck with one hand, he hauled him up onto his feet and pinning his own face less than an inch from Doku, threatened. "You try another stunt like that, and I'll slice you up into mincemeat.  You get me?"  His warning (intimidation) was wasted, however, on the insensate (numbed, inert) Doku.  Grasping once more the limp body with the hair, Tzen dragged it down the hall to Zunrogo's cabin.

Revived to face Zunrogo's fierce, menacing stare, Doku swallowed dryly and dropped to his knees at once.  Fear had tightened his stomach into a hard knot and his head throbbed terribly.  None the less, he was a survivor.  Clenching his fists to stop his shivering, he finally managed to whisper his plea, "Spare me, good sir.  You are law abiding, Imperial Officer; famed for your apt command (supervision, control).  You would not kill an innocent man without first hearing out the circumstances by which he was force into committing this criminal infraction.  May the God of the River strike me dead if I'm lying?  Never have I strayed from the path of truth and righteousness.  Truly, I was forced into it."

His lips trembled, slurring his words, "They are holding my beloved father and son hostage, threatening to chop them into a thousand pieces if I do not do their bidding.  I had no other choice.  My poor wife was already lost to me because of the fever that swept through the region after the floods.  Oh, what will my aged, senile mother do if I am lost too?  Who will take care of her?  Take pity on me, sir.  Spare me so that I can assist you in avenging this terrible wrongdoing.  Give me this one chance to make amends for my mistake."

"Shut up!"  Tizan had lost his patience and, with the pommel of his dagger, delivered a fierce blow to Doku's mouth.  "You miserable wretch, how dare you insult us with your cliché-ridden tirade!"

Spitting out his broken teeth, Doku looked up to entreat the Imperial captain.

"Who?" Zunrogo dourly barked.

Seeing the baffled look on Doku's face Tizan bellowed, "Who hired you to kill the scholar, you stupid shit?"

"I'm not sure." Doku answered then raised the back of a trembling hand to lessen the impact on his face from Tizan's next fierce blow.

Zunrogo waved Tizan away.  "If you do not cooperate fully, I cannot guarantee your safety." He threw a meaningful glance at Tizan and then addressed Doku sternly but with softer tone.  "Now before I lose my patience, I shall ask you this just once more: Who?"

"I don't know!  I honestly don't know!" Doku cried out as he hugged his knees.  "Please, sir, the man who engaged me remained anonymous.  He told me that he was acting on behalf of someone very important and he offered me so much money that I dared not refuse.  He said I had best go along with their wishes, but he did not divulge his name, any names.  He assured me that the scholar was someone of no consequence.  He said it was just a personal vendetta.  That's what I was led to believe.  I'll gladly relinquish all the gold to you, sir.  The entire sum is locked inside the wooden chest, in my cabin.  Take it, take it all.  Just spare my life."

"How dare you insult the captain with your feeble bribe?"  Infuriated, Tizan brutally yanked the prisoner to his feet and hurled him into the corner.  "You think we care anything at all about a paltry pittance that could buy a scum like you?  Think again.  You've had your chance." spitting out the words, Tizan lumbered threateningly towards the broken husk in the corner.

Doku discovered, to his great dismay, that he could not move his left leg at all and that his right arm, unnaturally positioned, twitched a little, yet throbbed with agonizing pain.  Stars danced Infront of his eyes and his head hammered (pounded) something fierce; moreover, his temple (forehead) bearing a huge lump, was sore to his slightest touch.  Fear and adrenaline alone kept him from losing consciousness.  As Tizan bent over him, Doku's face was torn in sheer terror and his eyes moved frantically about in their sockets.  He knew that he would be done for if he did not confess immediately.

"All right,” he wrenched the words out, stuttering through his broken teeth, "it was L...L... Lance Dios...Diostin’s man w... who..."

“Lance Diostin?"  Tizan turned to look slyly at Zunrogo.  "You are not telling us anything we do not already know, Doku." he snarled, his eyes burning into the man's face.

Doku's eyes filled with incomprehension.  "Then...what...what do you want me to say?"

"How many?” Zunrogo, turning, curtly demanded, his expression unchanged.

“How many,” Doku sounded the words, utterly stupefied (confused).

Tizan grasping Doku by the collar yanked Doku up to hold him two feet above the floor.  He could hear the shattered bones and muscle shift back into place and saw Doku's eyes roll back as the wave of pain hit.  “You heard the captain, how many?" Tizan barked into Doku’s face.

03- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 24

"Let him be."  Zunrogo’s stern order was promptly obeyed as Doku’s broken(beaten) body was instantly dropped to crash (smash) against the hard floor.

"Speak frankly and I may spare you."  The captain rose and sauntered to the porthole, his back towards the prisoner.

"I don't know.  How can I?  All right, all right.  Just keep him away from me.", Doku shrunk back from Tizan in pure fear.  "I'll speak."

At Zunrogo's signal, Tizan took a step back then began to slowly pace back and forth in front of Doku.

"He said something about a platoon, eight or twelve maybe." Doku started to volunteer.  In a matter of minutes, on just perceived threat from Tizan, the rest poured out (gushed) from the mortified, badly bruised Doku’s mouth.

 When Doku had finished telling him all he knew, Zunrogo turned and nodded to Tizan, then went back to sit down once more.

Tizan halted his pacing and turned menacingly to Doku, "Do you know what the apt (fitting) punishment for treasonous curs like you are?"

Doku's eyes bulged out in fright as Tizan spat out the word, "Impalement."

Horrified, he turned to implore Zunrogo, "But sir, you promised to spare me if I told you everything. Ayii…"  His pleas were muffled (stifled, muted) as the strong left hand of Tizan gripping his neck (throat) and lifted him up high, Doku’s feet thence (thereafter), dangling like a puppet in the air.

"Don't bother Captain Zunrogo.  You're dealing with me, now."  Tizan tightened his grip, looking into Doku's eyes with a sinister grin.

Doku squirmed in pain as his eyes implored, "Please… For Heaven’s sake, no!"

"Oh, you are so pale.  Did you think that I was about to finish you off?  Yet you must be spared.  The captain promised you that and the captain's orders must be obeyed; I'm bound by that.  So, I must spare you for attempting to kill the scholar.  You will not die for that crime."  For a second, Tizan looked perplexed, as if wanting to kill Doku yet unable to do so.

New hope flourished once more in Doku's heart, as well, tears of relief and gratitude manifested (formed) in the corners of his eyes, anticipating the release from the vice of Tizan's grip.

"Yes, spared…Spared of the extreme death penalty!” Tizan’s icy, sinister tone quickly dashed all hope.  “Still, you did betray your master after taking his gold, and we cannot let that go unpunished, can we?"  Tizan's pupils suddenly hardened as he threw his head back and laughed.  The next instant, a savage glint flashed in Tizan’s eyes, and his right hand at lightning speed thrust the long blade of the dagger into Doku's chest (into upper abdomen) just below the ribcage; left hand’s grasp now released, Doku was hauled up, suspended solely on the dagger’s blade.

Tizan, with a contemptuous grin, in one fluid motion yanked the blade out and allowed the lifeless body to collapse at his feet.

"You've had your fun, now get rid of that mess." Zunrogo's icy tone cut short Tizan's gloating.

"Yes, sir," he responded smartly (briskly) then, grinning, he shouldered the corpse and headed towards the door to throw the body overboard.

Just then the door swung open and Fradel Rurik Korvald, now fully dressed, strode in.  Witnessing the pitiful state of Doku's mangled corpse, Fradel's teeth clenched in anger and his eyes filled with loathing.  He'd had just about enough of Tizan's brutality.

Glaring at Tizan, he nevertheless curtailed his wrath and halted his yen, to strike (pin) down this vile beast with one blow.

Zunrogo, the familiar, cruel half smile on his lips, noted with amusement how Fradel Rurik Korvald's face had fleetingly said what could not be uttered in words.  The stand-off ended abruptly when, Fradel seemingly deciding Tizan was not worth the effort, pushed disdainfully past him.

Putting on a slight grin, Zunrogo rose to his feet to greet the scholar congenially.

Fradel sternly asked, "Was this slaughter (murder) necessary?”

Fradel Rurik Korvald's stare was unflinching, his features set and defiant. “Or is it simply that you reap measure of satisfaction seeing men suffer at the hand of your lapdog?”  He turned to look contemptuously at Tizan.

Tizan, in his raw response, gripped his dagger tighter and took a menacing step towards Fradel Rurik Korvald then, meeting the captain's stern look, stayed his advance.

04- TZAN JP

"My, oh my, put a sheep in a lion's pelt and watch how he bleats." Tizan hissed through clenched teeth as he turned back to the door and briskly walked outside before Zunrogo could reprimand him.

 In truth, from the very start, Tizan’s interaction (dealings) with Fradel Rurik Korvald had been strained, finding it extremely hard to be so congenial or diplomatic in any sort of exchange.

Despite repeated admonitions from the Captain, Tizan’s resentment, of Fradel Rurik Korvald in fact, of his pampered, privileged literati sort, had been such that it shone through his every word and action, despite his efforts to conceal it.

Zunrogo's face had darkened in fury, witnessing this, not so subtle retort from Tizan; nevertheless, constraining himself, he offered Fradel Rurik Korvald his abject apologies for Tizan's insubordination, promised future dire reprimand then, with seemingly infinite patience, invited the scholar to be seated.  When Fradel (somewhat reluctantly) complied, Zunrogo expressed his further regret for the unavoidable, unpleasant experience that the scholar had had suffered this very night, which had obviously traumatized him.  The underlying tone implicit in his words, however, made it clear that he would overlook Fradel's disruptive behavior this once, and this once only, out of consideration for Fradel Rurik Korvald's delicate constitution.  Further interruptions would not be tolerated, despite the scholar's importance.

 Zunrogo's decorum and his conciliatory (mollifying, assuaging) words nevertheless, at the outset had constrained Fradel to adopt akin peaceful (calmer) composure, one more in keeping with the manners of his pseudo identity, and, in turn, he extended his apologies for his outburst and thanked Zunrogo for his tolerance and due vigilance.

Placated, Zunrogo leaned back in his seat, drew a long breath then firmly explained in a measured tone, "In accordance with military law, Doku had to be caught red-handed before we could prosecute then, swiftly penalize him.  I assure you, sir, at no time were you in any danger from him or from his accomplices.  As you well know, your safety is of prime importance to me.  You called this (method of investigation), a vigilante act but, in fact, I have been more than tolerant (charitable, lenient, patient)."  He held up his hand to stay Fradel's response, smiling wryly, and then continued, "As you are well aware, we have been tailed by a certain vessel for a period of time now.  I had suspected but have only now irrefutably confirmed that this vessel is commanded by Lance Diostin who, by all accounts, is not one to be taken lightly.  You see, he has a strong backing; he has also an unblemished reputation for being impeccable in strategy and, even in his youth, being invincible in hand-to-hand combat.  Moreover, his skill with the sword is second only to His Excellency Egil Viggoaries.  I had hoped that, to spare you undue anxiety, we would outrun him until we could enlist some more help.  Alas, Captain Doku, by casting anchor here, where the current is weaker and the river shallower, has forced our hand.”

Without strong winds we have no means of putting (gaining) some distance between us and our pursuer; hence, we have been left with no other choice but to meet his challenge head on."

“Why do you persist in this charade?”  Fradel masked his annoyance under a polite smile.  “You wish me to believe otherwise but, in truth, and without Doku's ever knowing it, you have sanctioned his every move since we came aboard this boat.”

"Your acumen (tact, judgment, prudence) is most commendable, Captain, it is always advisable never to underestimate one's opponent, however competent one may be.  Yet in the case of Captain Doku, surely nothing would have escaped your scrutiny." 

The slight admonishment in Fradel's tone made his underlying message clear: “I am offended sir that you should choose, once more, not to be forthright with me.”

"You flatter me, sir." Zunrogo smiled sheepishly and relented.  "To be frank, we were forewarned from the start of Doku's objective, but I allowed him certain leeway in order to gain a strategic advantage.  You see, despite my hopes, a confrontation with Lance Diostin was inevitable and it was best that it occurred in mid-stream, under more manageable circumstances, rather than some busy port ahead.  In this way I could minimize the danger to you, cut Lance Diostin off from any reinforcements he might have had hidden in the next port, and thirdly, minimize the unavoidable loss of innocents ‘life that might be caught in the fray.”

"It’s most considerate of you." Fradel concurred.  "Yet I am amazed at the extent of effort put forth by those who oppose us.  It is hard for me to believe that a simple poet and a recluse scholar such as I would warrant this considerable investment of arms and attention."

Seizing this opportunity, Fradel next steered the conversation to the hidden reason for Zunrogo's presence there, hinting also at that particular concern which Zunrogo fought so hard to keep under wraps. A subsequent, pointed question, poised at the right moment, almost forced Captain Zunrogo to make a clean breast of it (own up to it) but, again with remarkable cunning, he sprang free from the trap and led the topic instead, to more abstract, harmless avenue.

Unwilling to concede defeat, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) adopted an even shrewder tactic which hard pressed Zunrogo, for a time, to aptly respond.

 Yet once more the captain rising to the challenge countered it with a most plausible explanation, calculated to discourage Fradel Rurik Korvald from ever pursuing the topic again.

 Impressed, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) conceded with due practicality.

05-NEVETSECNUAC IN CAPITAL (2)

This intense exchange had passed under the guise of seemingly innocuous congeniality, yet Zunrogo was relieved that Fradel had been deterred from pursuing the subject any further

“Uncanny,” Zunrogo looking away, pondered. “Fradel’s last hypothesis was dead on; so dangerously on a par with the truth.”

Zunrogo made a mental note never to allow Fradel a similar chance again.  He leaned forward in his seat.  "Yes, in anticipation of your next question, Captain Doku's skills are expendable.  Tizan is perfectly adept at manning a craft of this size. It was with this outcome in mind that, by design, I selected Tizan to accompany me on this trip.  He may be a trifle hot headed, I know, but in the end, he is an able and reliable subordinate. Besides, once you know how to harness his multitude of unique talents, you can make good use of them.  He's indispensable in that respect.  Smiling smugly, he sat back.  "As for your humanitarian concerns, Tizan is, at this moment, locking them all up in their respective cabins so as to keep them, other passengers, all out of harm's way when this inevitable confrontation occurs."

"Then, after the battle, you will release them unharmed and your henchman, Tizan, will not be permitted to lay a hand on them?"  Fradel, with this last question, sought to gain a definite commitment from the captain.

"Under the circumstances, I think that I am extremely generous." Zunrogo, hiding his irritation at this upstart scholar, nodded.  Outwardly he was making every effort to be congenial but under the mask of calm and composure he seethed in anger and resentment.  He had intended on disposing of them, one and all; so as not to leave behind any loose ends.  Now he was bound by his words to Fradel Rurik Korvald not to taint either his or Tizan's hand with their blood.  He did not appreciate Fradel's tricks.  Still there is that old proverb, 'A dog can lose its skin in many ways.' 

"Actually, I've been looking forward to the challenge of this duel with my nemesis Lance Diostin." fearing exposure, Zunrogo steered the conversation away to a more interesting topic.  "There's no denying that he is competent, but he has never before clashed swords with me.  Confidentially, I have been an ardent student of his fighting techniques for quite some time now and, though I do not wish to seem boastful, I have now mastered these skills one and all.  Furthermore, the combined efforts of me and Tizan’s should amply suffice to defeat him, don't you think?"  Looking away, Zunrogo mumbled. “Besides, it’s high time, Lance Diostin’s insufferable arrogance was curbed.”

"Most commendable," Fradel decided to go along.  "I see now that I have no cause for fear.  You, sir, with your keen foresight and ability, will surely succeed in vanquishing Lance Diostin and his forces."

Zunrogo grimaced in satisfaction and nodded, yet something else, some entirely different matter, had just then intruded in his thoughts; Fradel had of course, immediately noticed the slight change in him, how he now seemed anxious to end this polite, trivial conversation.  When Zunrogo turned his attention back on the present issue, he smiled to cover up his thoughts.  "Tonight, since we are keeping up the ruse, our pursuers will be allowed to catch up to us.  Even though the wind has dropped considerably, even during the time we have been here conversing, I expect they will put their men to good use on the oars in order to maintain their swift pace.  Their lightweight vessel is well suited to such a use, but then that, too, I have taken into consideration."

"It is admirable how you have managed to manipulate the outcome you desired." Once more Fradel feigned awe.

"As soon as this fog lifts…"

"Which should be by noon, tomorrow," Fradel injected somberly.

“Was that just a good guess?  How on earth could he anticipate that outcome, so precisely?”  "Exactly," Zunrogo masked his amazement with a nod as he briefly scrutinized Fradel.

 "Yes, it will be then that they will descend on us in force.  Fortunately, the rain will be a good deterrent for any fire attack."  Succinctly then, Zunrogo revealed part of his intended counter measures.

“Oh gods, he's good.  He's so masterful at mind control.”  Zunrogo, awakened bit too late, to what he had just let slip and, disappointed, looked away. “How subtly he primed me to reveal even that much and no doubt, he will fill in the rest.  His artful manipulation is quite astounding, to say the least.  Yet, why does he pursue this course?  Could it be that, under his flattery, he is still suspects me, or, still unsure of my abilities to defend him?”

He discreetly studied Fradel once more but then dismissed the notion. “No, that's not it at all.  It’s his arrogance if anything.  That's it.  On the eve of the battle, he does not much like the idea of blindly entrusting one’s fate to another.  With all that wit, brilliance, and some measure of courage at his disposal, our scholar, being so inept at defending himself, feels utterly helpless and frustrated.  So, he tries to impress upon me his...” Zunjugo quickly hid the look of condescension in his eyes.  “Yes, I imagine it would.”

Fradel, smiling inwardly, in the interim, had nodded tersely then, in earnest sincerity, asked if there was anything, however trivial, that he could do to render Zunrogo assistance either before or during the coming battle.

“Don't be absurd!  What can you do?  You can't write your way out of this mess; this is a real- life struggle.”  Zunrogo, however, masked his amusement; then in a measured tone, choosing his words carefully so as not to offend Fradel Rurik Korvald, he declined the scholar’s kind offer. "It is most gracious of you, sir, but everything is pretty much under control.  However, we would fight better, in fact with an easier mind if you were kept safe and out of harm's way.  Considering, perhaps an unforeseen danger, I must insist that you, along with the rest of the passengers, remain locked up in your cabins, until the danger has passed.  I must beg your indulgence in this.  Please accept my apologies in advance for any inconvenience and rest assured that I will do all I can to minimize your discomfort.  But now I fear I may have done you a disservice, being remiss in keeping you up so late from your sleep."  He stood up briskly, quite impatient to end this polite, tiresome exchange.

"So, if there is nothing further you wish to discuss, I must now beg you to excuse me, for there are still a few minor details that require a brief perusal."

At this point Zunrogo turned, to look over Fradel Rurik Korvald's head at Tizan, who had just then returned.  Motioning the Lieutenant to come forward, Zunrogo commanded him in a stern voice to apologize to Fradel Rurik Korvald for his earlier, inexcusable impudence.

After Tizan begrudgingly complied, Zunrogo asked, "Any problems?"  Receiving the expected, sharp reply, Tizan was then instructed to escort Fradel Rurik Korvald back to his cabin and ensure that all provisions for his comfortable stay were provided for, before he was to immediately report back.  Catching the Captain's meaningful, fleeting look, Tizan nodded in affirmation then patiently waited for the scholar to walk ahead.

 

(END OF SECTION 27)