LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 6

Nevetsecnuac had felt a twinge of pain as the blade had, just then, carelessly, or perhaps deliberately; cut a thin sliver into the flesh across his throat, making the blood trickle down both sides of his neck.

Unflinching, Nevetsecnuac smiled at Zonar Kuntzu.  "I'm ready for another bout (session), in fact I’ve been looking forward to break (end) this tiresome monotony; however, you must first excuse my unceremonious greeting of you."  He then shifted to lessen Zonar ‘s hold, but try as he might, he found himself solidly pinned, trapped under the other's oppressive hold.  Worse still, he could feel the blood coursing in his veins gradually ebbing (slowing down, fading)  robbing his vitals, his entire body, of the essential lifegiving force; that same instance, he felt as if slipping into a catatonic state, limbs weighed down like a solid rock or a huge bronze pot in defiance of his will,  refusing to budge even in the slightest.

Zonar Kuntzu seemed oblivious to this impediment; he only noted the fleeting shadow of concern registering in Nevetsecnuac's eyes and so, Zonar grinned, "You hesitate? Lest you fear, I have only lost miniscule faction of my powers?"

“Well, do you wish to fight me or not?  I never pegged you for a spineless opponent!” He let go and stood away. “I’ll give you a headway in strike, go on!”

Nevetsecnuac wished to respond but he could neither part his lips, nor was he able to utter the slightest sound; instead, only a frustrated, guttural (rasping, rough) gurgling came from his throat.

 

01- ZONAR CHALLENGES NEVETSECNUAC  ONCE MORE

 

Zonar’s subsequent response was baffling to Nevetsecnuac, especially since the other looked as if offended (aggrieved, angry, hostile) for a fleeting moment or two- by some perceived, brazen, insulting declaration (challenge) issued forth from Nevetsecnuac’s mind.

"You are far too reckless or brave, goading me so; nevertheless, I’m in no hurry to end your life, not just yet.  Not before I have some fun, but I fear it may prove to be no contest at all and, worse still, it may even bore me."  Pursing his lips disdainfully, Zonar, so uncharacteristically, coldly ejected and then shrugged.

 "After all, I do possess an unfair advantage over you.  Or have you so readily forgotten how I'm now very well acquainted with your fighting style, as well, know your innate (inadequacies) limitations? “

“That's right, suffice to say that what we shared before, glorious as it may have seemed to you, was only a trifling test run.  What you encountered then, and found so hard to defend against, even after the loss of my talisman, was but one twentieth of my force and ability."  Suddenly Zonar’s countenance turned dark and his expression fierce.

 "Damn you!" he swore, gritting his teeth.

"Why the hell did you not stay where you were safe, instead of paying a pilgrimage to that worthless Heaven's Gate Spiritual Temple, the den of mercenaries and spies?  That vile, cursed place should have been razed to the ground long ago, along with all the rest.  You thought they would be worthy of your trust because they were duty-bound (obligated), functioning under the cloak of faith?  Now, regrettably, you will have to be slayed.  You will all have to be eradicated (eliminated), including your newborn twin son and daughter."

Zonar grimaced wryly, then added thoughtfully, "Yes, save for one; your wife, who has been promised a safe delivery into the hands of Emperor Deng Hedenko of Kontu, by my Sovereign Lord (of Korion), therefore, sending me on this execrable quest (odious mission).  But alas, I his loyal subject have been entrusted with this task."

 

02- EMPEROR OF KONTU DENG HEDNEKO

 

"What!  Lord Asger (Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon) and the twins will all be killed?  My wife… my precious, beautiful Teuquob, will be at the mercy of Deng Hedenko, that rancorous (malign) villain?"

Zonar’s announcement (declaration) had sent a terrible lightning bolt (strike) through Nevetsecnuac's brain; next, an all-consuming, searing rage had coursed through his veins and exploded in his chest.  His soul recoiling in terror, he clenched his fists until his knuckles (turned white) cracked.

Externally, Nevetsecnuac’s face had contorted somewhat tragically, his eyes revealing only a fleeting glimpse of the raging, conflicting storm that tore up his spirit (core); with

remarkable will thence, he checked this rising fury that threatened to unhinge (unbalance) him. “No,” He determinedly rejected the present reality; and moments later common sense had edified (enlightened, informed) him to the truth, that this person before him, was someone other than Zonar.  Though he bore Zonar’s (likeness) physical form, had similar eccentric (quirky, odd) attributes- his innate character, his demeanor nevertheless was slightly off, and it could be said even quite odd (alien).

Nevetsecnuac could not rightly pinpoint the reason, but his intuition, the inner dread surmounted with the foreboding feeling just then, had thus constricted (confined, held, caged) his soul in a primordial vice (pure evil).

  

"I'll release you from the spell (incantation) that binds you, soon enough," Zonar meanwhile, had promised hardheartedly (stonily). "So that we may resume where we’d left off; however, I trust that, before your glorious end, you will furnish me with one more memorable battle."

"You'll have that, and more!" Nevetsecnuac hissed, his tongue now released from the oppressive hold to the utter amazement of Zonar.  For Nevetsecnuac somehow with his innate prowess (ability), had broken the spell. 

03 - NEVETSECNUAC BREAKS THE SPELL

“You never cease to amaze me.” But before Zonar could react and shoot out searing beams from his pupils, pre-emptively Nevetsecnuac's two fingers of his right hand had targeted Zonar's blazing eyes while the left hand grasped Zonar's wrist clutching the hilt of his sword.  In a contest of strength next, the blade was forced away from Nevetsecnuac’s throat and cast off to one side, as Nevetsecnuac simultaneously rolled his body, to pin Zonar under him on the wet ground.

“I will not be underestimating you again.” Zonar's glaring expression mutely warned.

"Give me one, just one good reason why I should spare your life." Nevetsecnuac demanded through gritted teeth as his right hand gripped Zonar's throat in a death hold.

"What duress, what measure of political liability (millstone) has Hedenko over your Sovereign that your liege would force such a cowardly onus (to murder innocent children and to abduct woman for delivery) onto you, his loyal subject?"

Half blinded by the blood oozing from his eye sockets, Zonar remained unrelenting and defiantly spat into Nevetsecnuac's face, gurgling, "Go to hell!"

Then, by no means helpless, in the ensuing contest of strength Zonar, the summoned sword’s hilt once more in his grip, his legs tightly wound around Nevetsecnuac's waist, the two, interlocked as they were, rolled until at one point they both went over the precipice and, after falling some measure as they scraped the jagged, protruding rocks, plummeted headlong into the depths of the lake.

Zonar, being the first to be freed from the choking, trapping net of submarine growth, swam ashore then, brandishing his sword in readiness to hack, watched, and waited for his adversary to surface next.  His fiery eyes, miraculously mended, combed the crystalline depths beneath the gently undulating waves; suddenly however, Nevetsecnuac sprang up out of the water and somersaulting in the air over Zonar's head, landed on his feet squarely behind him.

Turning around in a flash to confront Nevetsecnuac, Zonar grimaced at him wryly.  "I shall certainly miss your amusing calisthenics.  Perhaps Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, your aged, crippled teacher, could be persuaded to perform the same; that is, if he survives the first encounter with me."

Zonar was being deliberately provocative, hiding the fact that he had, in fact, felt a secret empathy and lasting admiration for that honorable old Lord, in view of all that he had heard and learned about him.

"Don't flatter yourself with your overrated confidence," came, Nevetsecnuac's hot retort.  Narrowing his eyes next, he demanded, "So, you still want to go through with this?"

"You expected less?"

"Then I shall be forced to stop you.  This time, however, you won't be cheating death so easily." Nevetsecnuac warned coldly.

In fact, he was stalling to attain more information about the informants, the spies inferred by Zonar, though he was not entirely sure how he would convey this vital message to Lord Asger Zhon once this adversary was bested (defeated) in combat.

04- NEVETSECNUAC

“Perhaps I would encounter another brave, loyal soul like Fradel Rurik Korvald, whom I can implicitly trust.” His reflections were just then rudely interrupted by Zonar's roaring laughter, "You?  You think you're capable of stopping me?”

After which he knitted his brows and bellowed at Nevetsecnuac, “Look who is overrating their skill!"

 Zonar pivoted away, then swung back again snorting angrily, "You talk so big, but what makes you think you're still good enough?"

 Zonar’s eyes (with no evidence of prior injury) completely restored to norm, he now narrowed his eyes and fiendishly warned: “If you had any sense, you would beg for mercy or flee to safety.  But I know your kind all too well.  You're so full of foolish notions of honor and idealism; you’ll never condescend (deign) to a reprehensible recourse (alternative, options) however reasonable, however sensible. “

“You are too foolhardy to concede (admit)to the truth, of what lies starkly before you, the evident hopelessness of your situation.  Blinded by faith you will hasten towards your death; go through hellfire, unflinchingly, wouldn't you, to achieve your goal?"

Zonar spat out the irate words, not giving Nevetsecnuac (single) any chance to respond.  "This you would do, despite the overwhelming odds against you, counting on posterity to log (register) your fame, relying only on Heaven's might to assist you in your righteous cause.  Hah!  Foolish martyrs that your kind always are, you would hasten to your death, never coming to grips with the Universal Truth: that man stands alone, fights alone, and dies alone, without any interference or least regard from Heaven.  After all, why should they take any heed in the mundane affairs of insignificant straw dogs like you?  One pitted against many?  Hah!  Courage and ability alone, however admirable, are not nearly enough when confronting a cunning, ruthless, formidable force.  Patience, good planning, strategy, and proper reinforcements are what are needed here most.  And don't think I don't know why you are headed to the Capital, Channing. “

He shook a reproachful finger at Nevetsecnuac.

"But I ask you, without all this that I have enumerated, how do you propose, I mean what makes you think that you will succeed where others have failed, and failed miserably?  You think that you're invincible?"

Nevetsecnuac just then was reminded of the magic brush, which Zonar had earlier gifted him and his had absentmindedly reached into his inner pocket (to retrieve it); but his hand failed to find it. It was gone!

“What are you searching for?”  Zonar growled.

Another evidence of a sure discrepancy in his character.  Nevetsecnuac, musing, looked down. Furthermore, Zonar’s inability to detect his thoughts (read, decipher his mind), confirmed Nevetsecnuac’s earlier suspicion that this person before him was only an impostor and a poor impersonator of Zonar at that, though assuredly, he was an assassin.

Nevetsecnuac sharply looked up to now say this, when Zonar just then clearly irritated, held up his hand, keeping any response from Nevetsecnuac. With his darkened countenance, he simply shook his head and next, scowling, looked away; but then shrugging his shoulders, he muttered: "Besides, what's the big urgency, eh?"

05-ZONAR KUNTZU -  (17)

Directing his gaze back at Nevetsecnuac he asked, "What are a few more years of waiting when twenty have already passed?  Unless” He opened his eyes wide. "Unless the secret had been revealed to you only recently…  Ah, now I understand.  It all makes sense."

Zonar nodded his head as conflicting emotions surged in his chest.  Once he, too, experienced Nevetsecnuac's type of impatience.

When he addressed Nevetsecnuac anew, his tone lacked the fire and brimstone, the remonstration, anger, and spite and was, instead, sympathetic and grave.

"Yes I, too, hold loyalty and filial piety as the duties most paramount to every man.  Though I care little for the affairs of your Country, I respect what you are aiming to achieve.”

“It is because I understand that I am now prepared to give you, sir, this leeway, this last chance, so that you may fulfill your life's objective.  All I ask, no, I demand in return is your promise of non-interference.  It is imperative that this condition be met for… then,”

“No, hear me out, first!"  He froze Nevetsecnuac's response with a gesture of his hand.

"Just take me on my word when I say that I cannot fail in my duty to my Sovereign Lord for, if I did, then dire, irreversible consequences would befall my Country. Fact is, we are forced by circumstance to bid our time; any premature deployment of our armies will prove disastrous, to say the least."  He had absentmindedly murmured this last phrase to himself as he had looked away then, reverting his piercing gaze back on Nevetsecnuac, he stressed, "Abide by this condition and I will spare your life and allow you to be on your way.  Otherwise, sir, I will not be held (accountable) responsible for what I will then be forced to do, for I have sworn to obliterate all opposition, however innocent, that stands in my way.  Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly…"  Nevetsecnuac answered sharply. “But it is most offensive to me, sir, that you would even consider proposing such an option to me.  More injurious still, you clearly expected an affirmative response."

 His voice rose with his mounting outrage, "How can I sacrifice the lives of those whom I'm sworn to protect?  How can I stand idly by and let you live to cause injury to Lord Asger Zhon, to my innocent son and daughter, and to let you abduct my wife and cast her into a fate far worse than death?  I will fight you, fight to the end of Earth if needs be, to prevent this from ever happening!"

"You sorely disappoint me, young man." Zonar's thunderous, reproachful voice interrupted Nevetsecnuac.  "Just whom do you bear your allegiance to?  Answer me this; what has been your prime objective all along, if not to avenge your forefathers?  For assured success, you should have hardened your heart.  Are you willing to risk it all for the sake of a mere woman, and an old man, and puny children?  Mark my words, this weakness will be your undoing."

"I'll be risking nothing since I do not intend to lose to you or any other.  Hence, your ominous prediction, sir, is unwarranted and farfetched."  Nevetsecnuac, though perplexed, retorted angrily.

"I thought I understood you well, but it seems I have erred." Zonar groaned, gritting his teeth.  Then, shifting his body impatiently, he scoffed, "I've wasted far too much precious time on you as it is, more than I cared to."

He was about to launch his deadly assault on Nevetsecnuac when, forcing restraint on himself, he stayed his hand and commanded, "Halt!  The Tokiro Code of the Warrior will not permit me to take on an unarmed foe."

Disregarding Nevetsecnuac's protest, he shot up into the air to land on the crest of the hill, disappearing shortly after.

"I've had just about enough of your stalling tactics.  I dare you to fight me now!" Nevetsecnuac shouted after him then, following suit, launched himself onto the hilltop.

Spotting Zonar in the distance, he rushed after him to engage him.

 Zonar, at first spreading the distance between them, swiftly delved into, then out of the previously hidden, deep cavern, to now stand at its gaping mouth with his feet firmly planted wide apart on the hard ground. With one difference, he was also armed with two sheathed swords, as he waited in a menacing pose with a scornful smile plastered on his lips, for Nevetsecnuac to catch up.

When Nevetsecnuac reached the right proximity, Zonar, shouted, “Catch!”, and in a flash, hurled one of the swords at him.

Nevetsecnuac, still running, reached out his hand and grasped the hilt of the sword in mid-air as it was about to sail by, instantly unsheathing it.

 "But what's this?"  Nevetsecnuac was taken aback, for this was not the sword he was expecting to have.  Rather it was Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon’s ancestral sword, the very one he had entrusted into Fradel Rurik Korvald's care.  He could not hide the fleeting horror in his eyes as he looked up to rivet his fiery, questioning gaze on Zonar.  Holding it up, he demanded in a fierce shout, "How did you come by this?"

The response was a roaring, earth-shaking laughter after which Zonar gnashed his teeth and confirmed Nevetsecnuac's worst fear, "Your head will soon be joining that of the man whose name you have assumed."

"And what possible danger did he pose to you, you are vile, despicable assassin?" Nevetsecnuac cursed furiously, his face knotted with rage.

"He was on his way to join up with Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, was he not? What difference would it make, then, where he expired?" Zonar retorted with sarcasm and a bemused smile as he shrugged his shoulders and scoffed.

06-NEVETSECNUAC  (32)

"You…You will pay for this outrage murdering swine!" Nevetsecnuac, in a passionate fury brandishing his sword, launched his deadliest assault on Zonar.

The opponent swiftly deflected the blow and, in a twirl, hacked back at Nevetsecnuac.

Nevetsecnuac, rendering this lethal onslaught ineffective, averted the sword's successive deadly strikes, then somersaulted into position to thrust the blade into Zonar's side; only to have Zonar swerve nimbly and miss it by a sliver.

The next instant they were interlocked in the fiercest, most fatal combat yet, that defied all description and made their previous clashes seem more like mere child's play.

Zonar proved as good as his boast and, during subsequent countless rounds, Nevetsecnuac, despite his competence, suffered severe wounds and serious, deep lacerations to his legs, arms, chest and face.

In the ensuing twenty or more bouts of fray, as Nevetsecnuac effectively confronted (tackled) Zonar's invincible prowess, even though he deflected a multitude of deadly blows, thrusts and strikes and, with his superb skill and agility, held his own for a long time, to later succeed in inflicting some serious wounds and slashes on Zonar, in the end, with his strength slowly ebbing, to his dismay Nevetsecnuac was forced to concede to the possibility of his probable (foreseeable) defeat.

Suddenly however, the images of his beloved (his uncle, wife, and children) manifesting in his mind’s eye, anew regenerated his fortitude and zeal.  Letting go a most fearsome, blood-curdling shout, Nevetsecnuac ducked, dived then executed his most brilliant, incredible maneuver yet, to in one lightning sweep of the blade sever (hack) Zonar's head at the neck (collar).

The bloody head, cleared off the torso, tumbled onto the ground and rolled some ways before being arrested by a rock.

Nevetsecnuac barely had time to reflect on his success, however, when, to his amazement and great horror, he witnessed the decapitated body of Zonar slowly rising from the ground to advance towards where the bloodied head lay still.  The head, meanwhile, quavered then, dislodged from the ground, simply hurled up and joined with the severed stump.

07 -ZONAR KUNTZU - 2 (33)

The head now on the nape and perfectly aligned, the bloody line sizzling and emitting a blue iridescence, subsequently dissolved, fused (bonded, merged) with the body.

Once more a whole being, Zonar suddenly opened his eyes wide and, turning burrowed his fiery gaze into Nevetsecnuac.

With a snarl on his lips he declared, "Fool!  You can't kill me!  Don’t you know you can't kill an immortal?”

“Ha!  Ha!  Hah!  Your best and only recourse would have been, is to take a flight… to scram. Now, I'll have your head and, your soul will be condemned for all eternity rot in Hell!"

Throwing his head back, Zonar first howled like a wolf, and then with an eerily laugh, launched anew his murderous assault on (a tad stunned) Nevetsecnuac.

 

"I'll show you how even an immortal can be killed!"  Though disheartened for a spell, Nevetsecnuac bravely thwarted each consecutive blow then shifted to an offensive with more lethal strikes. During the seemingly eternal, succession (series) of intense, pitched scuffle, Nevetsecnuac, nevertheless, soon realized that he could not exhaust this formidable foe even after hundreds more such skirmishes, let alone vanquish him.

 Same could not be said of Nevetsecnuac, for the incessant fierce combat eventually taking its toll, his stamina ebbed, and he was once more forced to fight defensively.

 In this dire circumstance, before Nevetsecnuac could further retaliate or utilize his only viable option to flee, Zonar, at lightning speed wielding three consecutive strikes with his indestructible sword, dealt Nevetsecnuac’s fate an irreversible, calamitous turn.

The first decisive blow broke the blade of Lord Asger’s ancestral sword, as if it were a tender twig, into two halves.  The second blow came from the hilt of Zonar's sword. It struck so hard on Nevetsecnuac's top of the head that it split-open an inch deep gash in his skull.  As Nevetsecnuac fought against disorientation, excruciating, throbbing pain, the dizzying, whirling, fast failing vision (eyesight), Zonar, glaring venomously at Nevetsecnuac, in a third strike, swung his sword wide to... Before Nevetsecnuac could ask, “Could this be the end?”  Whoosh … The raw blade in an instant severed Nevetsecnuac's head clean through at the nape of his neck.

 

(END OF SECTION 6)

                                                                                ~

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 23

 

The mayhem (great pandemonium) of the crowds, meanwhile, kept on going long after they had gushed outside; running, running, until they collapsed or found refuge at the nearby food stands or teahouses where they (with tongues wagging) then began to spread the fantastic, hair-raising stories about the stranger Zonar and their brush with death.  By noon, Zonar's name and accompanying rumors had spread like wildfire to the farthest corners of the Prefecture.

The account of this fiery red-haired giant was tattooed on everyone's tongue and, by then, his features had become greatly exaggerated.  He was described as being well over fifteen feet in height instead of just seven, endowed with flaming, snakelike hair, flashing eyes and having a red reptilian tongue; he was also said to have the jagged, sharp teeth of a predator protruding from his purple lips, and all of this was framed (held) by a demonic dark azure (cerulean, cobalt) face.

01- Zonar's exaggerated image

Many claimed he possessed the supernatural power to command thunder, lightning and fire, and many also attested that he had the combined strength of a thousand men.  His single, menacing gaze had turned the bailiffs sent to apprehend him and everyone else in the courtroom to stone.  He had cast an evil spell which prevented people from moving a single muscle, or even blinking an eyelid, until he had had his say, then had called down a bolt of lightning which threatened to reduce the Prefect's court to cinders and, riding away upon it, had disappeared without a trace.  This was truly a supernatural phenomenon. 

They uttered gratitude to their protective deities at this point for having escaped such a catastrophe, hoping, praying that they would never lay eyes on such a monster or his like ever again.  They swore with subsequent conviction that the accused Fradel Rurik Korvald was in league with the evil forces and, therefore, was the one responsible for conjuring up this demon to scare the prefect into dismissing the case just when things had gone the worse for him.

"I hope His Honor won't be dissuaded from passing proper judgment on this villain." one of them sounded out his concern above the general hubbub.

"But first", another chimed in, "he had best call up the priests to properly exorcise the courtroom and rid the place of all evil influences before rendering the death sentence on this culprit, Fradel what's-his-name."  All nodded in concurrence.

"Too bad His Excellency, Provincial Governor Shuri, is indisposed," two, better informed, rabble (Arland and Bryner) whispered among themselves, off to the side of the crowd.  "Until the new Governor is installed in the post, Prefect Micen Do must bear the full burden of his final decision himself, bereft of guidance and protection from his superior."

"That could still take several months.  I certainly do not envy him now," the better dressed of the two, Arland, commented wryly.  "Just the same, I hope for my own sake that he proves up to the task."

"What do you have to worry about?  You're only related to him by a distant marriage," his close confident Bryner countered.  "Even if he fouls it up, your family won't be involved."

"That may be, but Micen's gotten in too deep with the Lukos.  If there is ever an investigation..."

"I hear what you are saying.  Their tentacles have spread exceedingly far.  Secret blather (rumor, natter) has it, even in this matter with Yenis; they lost no time sending their agents off to the Prefecture to dispense gold among our various officials and functionaries.  It's virtually assured that the prefect will arrive at the desired guilty verdict of Yenis and this scholar Fradel.  I understand his conviction, after all he is an alleged murderer, but why do you suppose the Lukos are so intent on ridding themselves of her?  Unless, unless they're trying to cover up something even more sinister."

"You're not hinting at that malicious gossip (hearsay) of a supposed illicit affair between Yenis and Shuri, are you?  I thought that matter had been settled (suitably resolved) long ago. Besides, weren’t they both exonerated from all suspicion and blame?"

"Who said so?" Bryner gave a meaningful smile.

"What is it that you know?"  Their natter (chat, gossip) had taken them away from the main crowd.

"Why don't you fill me in on those salacious details over a drink?" the Micen Do's relative Arland grinned, as he tapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Why not…  Just who am I protecting anyway?  Besides, all this talk has made me rather thirsty."

02-   ARLAND AND BRYNER

"What say you, we, stroll over to Tries Lane and ride those fillies in the Zhexi Tea-House, while you tell me all about it then?  It will be entirely my treat."

"You're too generous.  But you must allow me to pick first this time, you always get the best looking one for yourself."

"It's not my fault that I'm more handsome than you…Ha, ha."

"More handsome… the weight of your purse has nothing to do with it, I suppose., Ha, ha haa!"

As Arland and Byner’s forms gradually retreated into the distance, the (amassed) crowd was still engaged in a heated discussion.

The question of Fradel's guilt or innocence was of no consequence to anyone now, especially since the matter had been dwarfed by this new, supernatural threat.  Even those exceptional, intelligent few that, prior to Zonar's appearance, had decided on Fradel's innocence and had favored his release were now being swept up by the momentum of the crowd's ugly sentiments.

At safe distance from court, as the size of the congregated crowd swelled, many anxious to show off their particular expertise in this matter, embraced the chance (in lively animation) to elaborate on the various ways of disposing the evil corpse: the most expedient way of doing it, after decapitation, is by digging out the entrails of headless corpse before committing both to fire ( incineration), or, by some other specific methods ( of discarding Fradel's remains according to the Ancient Ways: The segregated parts of the body, the flesh, bones, entrails and head must all be consumed by holy fires under proper religious supervision before the accused’s’ ashes be cast into various cesspools for the eternal damnation.) This would permanently eliminate any future threat from the perchance(possibly) resurrected evil corpse.

                                                                               ~

Meanwhile, back in his private quarters, Prefect Micen Do, in a foul mood, had for hours paced the floor nervously back and forth, all the while neglecting to take tea or lunch and refusing to see anyone before he finally settled down to review Fradel's case documents.

Unlike the ignoramuses in the crowd, however, he did not believe in this superstitious nonsense even though, in collusion with the local priests, he had often enough encouraged them in the populous in order to reap the benefits of their ignorance.  Rather, his anxiety was born from the clear understanding that Fradel Rurik Korvald was now under the protection of an able assassin, perhaps even a coconspirator that had thus far eluded his guards.

As things stood now, Micen found himself on the horns of a terrible dilemma; on the one hand, there was the powerful Luko family, insisting on justice and pressuring him to settle this case quickly, on the other was this serious threat to his own life from that formidable stranger and his deadline of three days to free Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Prefect Micen felt constrained to appease the Luko Clan since he had graciously, perhaps unwisely, accepted their substantial donations and gifts but, as in the past, he could no longer shield himself under Shuri's arbitrary decisions, which he could always manipulate into accordance with his own.

Micen Do again nervously paced the floor to and for.

He knew all too well, even if he was to do Zonar's bidding he must do it in a most underhanded way.  In order to preserve his prestige, he could not afford to appear intimidated by just one stranger, or even by a hundred like him.

“Things were sure a lot easier when I worked hand-in-glove with Shuri, but he had to go and offend the Censorate Hagu.  And I warned him about Hagu, too!”   Micen, abruptly stayed his footing as he reflected, and dismally shook his head.

“Who knows what kind of person this new Governor is?  Zuyi?  Zuyi?  I know practically nothing about him.  I suppose I'll have to wait and see when he gets here, then I can feel him out good and proper, till I know just what makes him tick.”

He had upsent mindedly stopped by the window to gaze distractedly at the view outside.  The inner courtyard was virtually barren with the exception of a few, sickly Scholar Trees beside an impressive man-made mountain and a cluster of flowers newly planted off to the side of the stone bridge. The flowers had all bent their heads, wilting pathetically, which depressed Micen still more.

 He had taken great pains to have this garden constructed just right but nothing seemed to grow, let alone thrive, in that cursed soil.  He had hired and fired so many gardeners and horticulturists he had lost count.

His eyes just then rested on the small pond by the bridge.  Oh well, at least the carp are thriving.  With a shrug of his shoulders, he went over and plumped himself into his well-padded chair. 

First and foremost, he knew he had to ascertain his subordinate, Ashrath's, claim about Fradel Rurik Korvald.

"Now, where are the devils of those papers?"  He frantically searched through the pile, digging them up from the bottom, and examined them, this time with greater care.  Taking the trouble now to unfasten the envelope containing Fradel's summons before the emperor, what he read there drained all the color from his face and caused his heart to skip a beat.

 “So, he was telling the truth after all.  I thought he was merely boasting.” 

Micen inwardly cursed that cowardly Magistrate for not perfunctorily resolving this sticky situation and having Fradel murdered in transport then blaming it on the renegade bandits.

As he perused over Fradel's sworn disposition, Micen was forced to concede the scholar's brilliance.

 Again, reviewing the recorded testimonies and the case documents, he now saw to his greater dismay that, other than the knife found at the scene, there was no real, solid evidence on which to convict Fradel of murder and robbery.  The adulterous affair with Yenis and his collusion with her in the murder were all pure conjecture and solely based on the testimony of the woman, an established liar.

“I suppose I'll have to have these contradictory statements of Latham and Hacket patched up before they're sent on to the Capital.  Still, I'm rather baffled.” He frowned.

“What earthly reason would these two have for giving false evidence, I wonder?  What is it that they are trying to cover up?  Oh, never mind.”  After a moment's pause, he dismissed the thought.  “I can clear this up later, when I can be discreet.  If I do it right, I may even be able to curry still extra favors from them.  That would be more profitable than just exposing them.  They can certainly afford it.” He wrung his hands imagining these riches already in his grasp.

Next reviewing Yenis's confession from beginning to end, he again paused.

“I find this most puzzling.  Why, at death's door, would she have to gain, what is her motive, for framing Fradel Rurik Korvald?  Surely, it's not because she still wishes to protect the identity of her real lover; not after he, so heartlessly abandoned her?  Or did he?  What grudge could she possibly bear this scholar that she insists on spinning such tales in order to snare him in a capital offense?”  Stroking his beard, Micen mused.

“Had the two encountered Fradel in their flight and Fradel, disposing of her lover, had later, as she claimed, forced his violent attentions upon her?  That certainly could be one plausible explanation for it.  Still, this Fradel hardly strikes me as one who could become infatuated with her.  I can't pinpoint it, but there is something definitely odd about him.  It’s as if he's come from another time.  Perhaps it’s his indifference to pain, to life, to law?  Whatever it is, it totally escapes me.  When I examined him during the trial, what was it I detected in his eyes?  Yes, indifference, perhaps contempt and curiously, pity… yes, pity?  This is most peculiar and irregular, but not a shred of lust.  It's unfortunate that his servants, as he claimed, were lost during that sudden storm while crossing the Mulor River, that I can believe, I know how treacherous those waters can be.” Micen shifted in his seat.

03- YENIS

“I'd rather not inflict torture on one as beautiful as she, Yenis… unfortunately, as things stand; she's my only means of getting at the truth. Hmm, as for Fradel Rurik Korvald, good riddance to him, I say!" Micen scoffed, already having resolved to absolve the scholar of both the charges of murder and robbery once the woman's confession was wrung from her by torture.  “That certainly would be a lot less trouble than explaining why I convicted him. 

Of course, this means I'll have to produce the real culprit or, preferably, his corpse in order to wrap up the case.”

“Confound it!” his face darkening; Micen slammed his fist on the desk. “He's still guilty of the trespassing law!  This charge won't be so easy to dispose of, since it has already been disclosed to that imbecile of a Magistrate Turo, his entire staff and half the population of this Prefecture.” 

Fingering the indictment papers and documents from Turo he pondered, “For once the cursed fool has done a proper job of it, too.  The proof is indisputable.”

“Great; I'm sunk either way.” Micen again squirmed on his chair, nervously scratching his head to relieve the sudden tightness of his scalp. This fresh quandary unleashed a throbbing headache that could not be so easily rid.

“The punishment set for trespassing is decreed by His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek and can only be rescinded by His Majesty.  The death verdict, then, it must be.  Yet, even if I double my guards and ensure my safety from this threat by the assassin, how can I put to death one that is expected for an audience at the Imperial Court, and carries a warrant of (regardless) safe passage from His Majesty?“ Micen let his gaze linger on the summons, placed just to the side.

“While upholding one ruling, I'll be forced to violate another!” 

The feeling of dread mounted in his heart compounded his urgent dilemma (sticky situation); in a state of intense agitation, he suddenly sprang to his feet and began pacing to and fro.  As he did this, he deliberated on his options, while animatedly sawing (cutting) the air with his hand.

“The importance of this prisoner, alone, still constrains me, in the absence of the Governor, to consult with the Legal Office of the Board of Punishments before rendering a final decision.  Yet, waiting for instructions could prove detrimental, even disastrous, since the lack of time precludes my waiting during any such action.  I must act responsibly at once.  What to do?  What to do?”

Prefect Micen Do (for hours on end) continued to wear down the carpet in serious contemplation until, spreading his hands out before him, helplessly, he (arrived at) reached the only plausible option (resolve):

“Fradel Rurik Korvald, (with suspended or pending guilty sentence,) under heavily armed guards’ custody, in all due haste, must be transported to the Capital Channing. Of course, with the official letter of explanation and all the amended trial documents accompanying him, Fradel could then be tried in Capital by the Legal Office itself, after the scholar's mandatory audience with His Majesty.

There remained only one snag (hindrance) to this otherwise perfect resolve:

 On route, should the prisoner escape custody because of interference from that formidable, red-haired devil-assassin or, band of ruffians, Micen could then be accused of incompetence in addition to his brutal treatment of the accused while the scholar was held in custody under his jurisdiction.

“Could I make amends by fairer treatment of him now?  Not likely,” MIcen shook his head.

“Everyone knows how these pampered literati sort, carry lasting grudges over slightest indiscretions. After my mistreatment of him, I am certain not to be spared of his wrath.

It’s certain that, once in Capital Channing, Fradel Rurik Korvald would use his influence on first secure pardon from His Majesty, after all, being a stranger to these parts, why wouldn’t such a valuable literate be absolved, for his ignorance, of a twenty-year-old trespassing law? This attained, he would then devise the means to beget (effect) my downfall.  In light of this, if I were to enable him a safe passage to Channing, wouldn’t I be hastening my own destruction or, at best, live the rest of my life in fear of the impending reprisals (retaliation) from his elite, powerful associates?”

“Hmm….  I would be much better off if this Fradel were to expire on the route to the Capital and... Fail to... meet... his... summons.  Yes!  Why the hell not!  Especially if he were to meet his demise after crossing into Tenzo Province…Ha!  His death would then become their problem. “

Prefect Micen gloated in self-satisfaction, sitting down once more to lean back confidently in his seat.

Success was dependent however on cunning strategy to effectively curtail or prevent any interference from the fiery red-haired menace.

Infuriatingly, another encumbrance (hitch) just then came to mind and Micen impatiently drummed his fingers on the desk, until he satisfactorily resolved (dealt with) this aspect. Even so, he was bit antsy about taking Mouro, (the best candidate for the job), into his confidence but unfortunately, both Zuko and Ro had suddenly expired last month, leaving Micen bit short of competent confidants.

04- MOURO KERR

“I wonder…can he be entirely trusted?  He has proven invaluable to me in the past, still; the gravity of this case constrains me to exercise utmost caution.  After all, I can't be too careful. I'll screen him first. “Micen made a mental note to allay (dispel) his fears.

Having resolved this hurdle also, he relaxed and lazily stretched his arms; his appetite regained, he called out to his orderly to bring him some tea and pastries.

 "Oh, and send a word to Mouro that I wish to see him at once." Micen, in afterthought, ordered. The orderly nodded in compliance and quickly withdrew.

 Micen Do rose confidently and strode over to the window.  Casting his gaze onto the withering Scholar trees he mused aloud, "I should have chopped them down and replaced them.  Perhaps some common poplars would be better?"   A sinister smile (smirk) visibly just then smeared his lips.

 

                                                                                       ~

(END OF SECTION 23)