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)

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 22

The following morning, Fradel Rurik Korvald(Nevetsecnuac) and Yenis Luko  woke at dawn and, after their ablutions, ate some dry rations and then  readied the luggage.   Leading the horse by the bridles (reins) with Yenis mounted in the saddle, Fradel negotiated their way down the sodden path which was occasionally blocked by moss covered rocks or fallen tree limbs; once out of the periphery of the forest, Fradel still holding onto (halters) straps and on feet, guided the horse onto the highway in the direction of Wincox City. They had not gone far, however, before they were suddenly surrounded (ambushed) by some seventy-to eighty-mounted guards (constabularies) armed with lances (spears) who’d raced to encircle them.

One of the guards reaching out grabbed her arm and dismounted her; she was roughly thrown on to the ground and landed on her rear, next to Fradel (Nevetsecnuac). Fortunately, her physical state, being sturdier than it looked, had suffered no ill effects. Ignoring Fradel’s concerned queries, unexpectedly just then, Yenis, fell on her knees before the captain and pleaded for mercy but all her entreaties (implorations) went unneeded by the stone-faced Captain who, instead, refusing to listen to any reason, hurled threats and obscenities at both Fradel and Yenis, while his men loutishly bound and gagged Fradel and Yenis then tossed (threw) them both into an iron cage mounted on a wagon, to be carted into the city’s prison. 

Along the way, Yenis, shaking from head to toe like a leaf, all curled up in a ball in the corner of the cage, whimpered pitifully till at one point she simply passed out; however, the scornful guards simply sneered and refused to check in on her condition.  As it was, under the guise of a scholar, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), had been constrained from using his martial prowess to extricate them from this trouble; hence, he’d meekly surrendered to this grave injustice. 

Surely the matter would be clarified at Court, soon enough. Nevetsecnuac had mistakenly supposed (assumed).

 Upon reaching their destination, however, the prisoners were then hustled into a dark, damp and dreary dungeon where they were immobilized in a pillory and locked up for the night.

The following morning, Magistrate Turo of Birgergon County, having set aside the documents from his other, minor cases, was examining Fradel's papers in detail when he suddenly grew flushed in the face.

"This is no simple matter of trespassing.  One cannot just sentence him to death and have done with it."  With a grave visage he sprang to his feet and rushed off at once to his private chamber back where he summoned his subordinates and confidants to a conference.

"The emperor’s edict, which has stood for these last twenty years, allows no exception." He summed up after the briefing.  "Yet how could we prosecute an important personage such as Fradel Rurik Korvald, who clearly enjoys His Majesty's good graces, and still escape the consequences of disobeying the Imperial guarantee of safe passage contained in these documents?"

Turo cupped his head in his hands as the others exchanged worried glances, knowing that their fate was sealed along with that of the Magistrate.  The more outspoken of them ventured hastily thought-out suggestions which only served to infuriate the Magistrate.  Increasingly agitated, Turo drummed his fingers on the desk and demanded immediate, more satisfactory answers to his dilemma.

The bookish Assistant Chief Constable, who had kept a thoughtful silence up until then, picked up his courage, noisily cleared his throat to command the attention of the silent group then spoke, "There is, unfortunately, another serious concern, related to this one, which also needs to be addressed, Your Honor."

 He retrieved a piece of paper, a wanted poster, from the leather wrap and, unfolding it, presented it to the Magistrate.

 "I received this by special courier from the Prefect's Office just this last hour, and was on the point of having it duplicated and distributed.  Please, Your Honor, note carefully how the description of the female criminal on the left tallies perfectly with the features of Fradel Rurik Korvald's accomplice. “

“Furthermore, since she was in Fradel Rurik Korvald's company when she was apprehended, I would venture to guess that he is the hunted male criminal on the right."

 All heads one by one nodded in concurrence, as the wanted poster was passed around from hand to hand.

"It's definitely her, Your Honor. But the male's description is rather vague (sketchy). Nevertheless, we must agree with Lu's assumption that it could very well be the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald."

"Of course, the final word rests with you, Your Honor."

"Confound it!  More problems!" the Magistrate barked.

 He burrowed his piercing eyes into Lu, venting his fury on the bearer of this news,

"I suppose you would be the one to pile more rocks on my premature grave.  Bah!  I asked for an apt solution, not more complications."

As the Assistant Chief Constable withdrew to the back, muttering apologies for his untimely introduction of this news, a few of his colleagues hastened to appease Turo.

"Your Honor it may be good that we became aware of it now, so that we can take it into consideration."

"Yes, this is to our advantage, for later on it could have proven disastrous."

Subsequent (Pursuing) hours of intense deliberation, the conference finally produced a suitable resolution all could agree on: The Magistrate would not hold the court in Wincox City but would defer the matter in its entirety for proper disposition by Prefect Micen Do in his superior court in Denor City, the site of the alleged crime. 

Assenting, the relieved Magistrate wiped the perspiration from his brow (forehead) and swiftly drafted a detailed account of the trespassing crime, included a sworn deposition from his guards, and added an inflated account of the great expense incurred in apprehending these felons.

Magistrate Turo then ordered heavier racks to be fitted for the necks of both prisoners and, that they are dispatched that same day under heavy guard to the Prefecture in Denor to await their trial and the subsequent punishment.

 The captain (furnished with Fradel's sealed identity papers, sealed summons along with a special insert from the inept Magistrate, the transfer order and papers of indictment on the trespassing charge), along with one hundred armed guards, escorted the prisoners in heavy chains locked up inside a caged cart, out of the city.

As mentioned earlier, the trouble having transpired in such proximity to the capital province Holger, Nevetsecnuac, under the guise of scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald, had been constrained to remain within the bounds of scholar’s faculties (abilities) and therefore, had endured (tolerated) this grave injustice.  Nevertheless, his contingency plan had considered the possibility of this matter not being cleared up by the Prefex Micen Do either, in which case, he then planned to take direct action and make good his escape, preferably at an apt opportunity and place with minimal (disruptive) consequences.

 Unfortunately, he had grossly underestimated the seriousness of his nightmarish situation, the dept of corruption and the strong security measures that truncated any possibility of justice or effecting escape, not in Wincox City, nor on the way to the Prefectural Seat in Denor.

 

                                                                                 ~

05-- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC)) AND YENIS, IN CHAINS

Arriving at the Denor city gates by mid-morning, they (prisoners, Captain and the guards) were all instantly plunged into a large, hostile crowd of common citizens.  Obviously bribed and coached, the indignant crowd which waited for them tormented the prisoners all along the route to the Prefect's Office.  Yenis and Fradel were pelted with an assortment of ripe fruit, rotted eggs, slimy and foul-smelling human and animal excrement as well as being subjected to furious vilification, threats, curses and blows to the head and back from those who had brought along thick poles for the purpose.

The stern, hard faced Prefect, Micen Do, on being informed of the prisoners' arrival, immediately took up his seat and called his court into session.  With order finally restored, Micen Do had the bailiffs bring both prisoners forward.

 As was customary at the start of any trial the male accused, Fradel, was brought forward, stripped to the waist and given fifty heavy strokes with iron rods, on his back until the flesh broke.  Not satisfied with the damage thus inflicted on Fradel's sturdy form, Micen ground his teeth in contempt and ordered another twenty strokes, accusing the bailiffs of being too lenient (humane, merciful) in their beating of the prisoner.  To his chagrin, not a whimper or plea was attained from stubborn Fradel’s lips, robbing the Prefect and the gleaned (gathered, assembled) crowd the sought after perverse satisfaction.

Grumbling under his breath, Micen Do summarily looked over the indictment papers with a hard visage. He then picked up the documents bearing the formal complaint and the death warrant itself.  Briefly glancing at the report from Magistrate Turo, he brushed aside Fradel's identity papers with a huff, barely noting even Fradel's full name.

"The charge of trespassing is solid; we can therefore dispense with any hearing on that matter.  The sentence is death."  He moved to quiet the cheering from the crowd then looked up to formally charge both of the accused with the added crimes of murder, mutilation and robbery of the honorable Senson Luko.

 "I will withhold the sentence of death pending the outcome of this trial, so as to determine by the proceedings the severity of the criminals' torture and the means of their death."

The prisoners were not permitted to enter a plea or say a single word in their defense at this point in the proceedings.  Instead, the court clerk, as ordered, stepped forward and read out loud the highlights of the case against them, including the corroborating testimonies of the brothers of the deceased and the servants of the Luko household.

The picture painted was most incriminating.  Yenis was described as a wanton, shamefully promiscuous woman, guilty of immoral misconduct, carrying on (with untold no of men) secret rendezvous and illicit affairs, who on the night in question had smuggled her latest lover, Fradel, into her husband's private library in order to commit murder.

The summation was concocted from the Prefect's own conjecture and read out to the court.  "After this vile, gruesome deed was accomplished, both the accused pilfered (made off with) many of the valuables, to enable them a fresh start elsewhere.  Making good their escape, they successfully eluded the constables on their trail until, after hiding out in a site forbidden by Imperial decree, where no honest citizen would dare tread, they were apprehended (ensnared) by the good and proper forces of the law. Guilty as they are of such reprehensible (appalling) acts, they deserve no mercy from this court."

 The (jovial outcry) cheers of the spectators painted a sinister smile on the Prefect's ugly, scar-ridden face as he delayed restoring order to the courtroom.

06-PREFECT MICEN DO

There was only slim evidence, vague at best, from the only eyewitness, the old gatekeeper, concerning the identity of the lover.  Familiar with such goings on, he had failed to get a good look at the man in the dark as the two made their getaway.  He had just minded his own business and had not raised the alarm until the grisly discovery of the following morning which brought to light the full scope of their crime.  However, this lack of solid evidence did not deter Prefect, with the persistent finger of guilt pointed at Fradel; it was enough that he had been caught along with Yenis.

"Fradel Rurik Korvald is guilty as charged by his association with a known criminal alone, there being an absence of factual evidence in this matter."

Prefect Micen Do then rush through the verbal questioning of the witnesses, practically coaxing their testimony from them in order to achieve the desired effect. 

He was constrained to follow at least the appearance of proper judicial procedure even though he was completely blinded to any sense of justice in his eagerness to secure a guilty verdict for both the accused, Yenis and Fradel.

Why was he so prejudiced?  It was because he wished to set a precedent here.  For some time now, moral standards in Denor have been particularly lax.  Since many fine, upstanding gentlemen, including the Prefect himself, liked to idle away their time consorting or ogling the beautiful courtesans and other loose women, in thriving establishments of ill repute posing as respectable tea houses that had sprung up in a multitude all along the riverbanks.  The river Hain, whose course meandered along the immediate outskirts of the city, was often thronged with pleasure boats from which the singing, laughter and music drifted into the suburbs until all hours of the night, every night.

 In this liberal atmosphere it was left to these same promiscuous men to preach virtue to their wives and daughters and to keep them from straying and become the playthings of other men.  Such happenings would entail an ultimate loss of face for these pretentious family men.  Even Prefect Micen Do, whose wife was no great beauty and falling far short of the good looks Yenis bore despite her present disheveled condition, had vigorously guarded his wife's chastity (fidelity) from the time of their marriage ceremony with a particularly jealous obsession. As his second wife (first one was deceased) was much younger than him, Micen Do had kept her virtually imprisoned within the confines of their home, to prevent any probability of her straying. This criminal case (adultery and murder) had naturally struck at the insecure chord of his heart and aligned his sympathies from the start with the deceased cuckold, Senson Luko, who he feared could just as easily have been him.

With much of the preliminaries out of the way, it finally became Fradel's turn to be asked, merely as a formality, how he pleaded to the charge of murder, mutilation and robbery.  Instead of pleading guilty as he had been instructed to in jail, Fradel with dignified composure, defiantly looked Micen straight in the eye and boldly protested his innocence of all three charges.  On the advice of his senior assistant, the Prefect contained his burst of fury and overlooked Fradel's impertinence.  He ordered the keeper of the stores to produce the most incriminating evidence; the murder weapon itself, for the court and it was promptly set on the dais before the bench.

Picking up the knife, mottled with dried blood, Micen thundered, "Do you still persist in denying that this does not belong to you?  Do you deny that the inscription on the blade, an engraved 'F', stands for 'Fradel'?"  He thrust the blade towards Fradel at arm's length and stormed, "Confess your crime now, and your death will be swift.  Delay this court and you will suffer all the agonies of Hell."

Again, Fradel with unwavering resolve, stated his innocence.  With his stoic, heroic countenance he then, with eloquent speech, enumerated (pointed out) the blatant loopholes in these unfounded charges against him; and in doing so, broke into shambles all the evidence amassed against him.

This created a great stir in the court, propagating (sowing) serious dissension among the gleaned (assembled) onlookers, some of whom now wavered in their resolve about Fradel.  Some even loudly questioned the soundness of the authority's judgment and actions thus far, crying out that a great injustice had been done by Fradel Rurik Korvald, who was obviously innocent.

To root out this dangerous, disturbing development, the concerned Prefect Micen Do angrily interceded.  Pointing an accusing finger at Fradel, he cursed him as the worst kind of renegade, a dangerous, venomous scorpion who used his cunning abilities to stir up the crowd.  He then had Fradel trussed up like an animal, using even more chains to prevent him moving a muscle, and had him gagged, to prevent "Fradel's disruptive, treasonous outbursts."  Fradel was also given a dozen more lashes to subdue him and to appease Micen's (fury) ire.

Already prejudged guilty, merely as a formality, Yenis was next asked, under the threat of torture, to confess her guilt, elaborate on the details of her crime and admit to the whereabouts of the stolen goods, which the muddleheaded Prefect only then had recollected to ask.

07- YENIS'S TESTIMONY

"But I'm innocent, Your Honor.  I was forcibly abducted."  Yenis, bemoaning her fate, dropped to her knees and in a quivering (trembling), tragic tone pleaded for mercy from the Court.  Despite the overwhelming evidence against her, grasping at straw in her effort to escape her inevitable, horrible end, she then mesmerized the court and kept the spectators in rapt attention, swaying the facts and circumstantial evidence all in her favor.  Vehemently claiming her innocence and stating that she had been grossly wronged by malicious slanders, she pointed an accusing finger at Fradel, declaring that she had never before that cursed day set eyes on him, that after Fradel's brutal murder of her beloved husband, this lecher had forcibly abducted her and sexually assaulted her.

Many groaned in the courtroom, already having committed to memory Fradel's brilliant defense.

"I've been made to suffer enough injustices, Your Honor." Her tearful protest came next. "But I care little that my name is unjustly smeared with filth …that I'll be cut down in the prime of my life.  All that I ask is that I be allowed to mourn properly, like a dutiful wife should, for my beloved husband severed (torn) so prematurely from me.  Afterwhich, you may do with me as you wish, Your Honor.  You may torture me, slice me to ribbons, remove my entrails and feed them to the dogs.  I do not care if I'm ever reborn.  I still will not cry injustice then.  My life here or in the hereafter is of little consequence to me."  She sobbed uncontrollably, the very picture of a virtuous wife.

She was by no means finished with her very convincing melodramatic performance.  Following several more minutes of hysterical crying, she with a heart wrenching moan raised her shackled hands and, looking up again lamented (bemoaned) her fate.  "Oh pity, pity me; I’ve done nothing to deserve such agony; oh, but Heaven sees all, Heaven is the only true judge… Merciful Gods, bear witness, to this great injustice inflicted on me today!"  She tore off clumps of her disheveled hair and struck her forehead to the floor until a slight trickle of blood oozed over her eyes.

 As many gasped, she spread her arms helplessly and again casting her gaze upwards, swore, "May the Almighty Gods strike me dead, right here and now, with a fiery bolt from Heaven, render me to cinders if I'm trying to deceive Your Honor."

All present mechanically turned their heads, searching with fearful eyes upwards.  But of course, no lightning appeared.

"Have pity on me, Your Honor; for how can poor, defenseless women like me prove my innocence?  I swear I've been framed by those who had hoped to gain from my death.

I swear that I was taken against my will that day by this rogue, who had butchered my dear husband and made me suffer such deplorable, unspeakable humiliations. “

“Oh, Heaven pity me; after all I've been through, I'm not deserving of this cruel treatment.  You’re Honor, look at me, look at me hard; can you not see that I’m no criminal!"

She continued to implore the Prefect in a hoarse, tragic tone, "Oh, you can't even begin to imagine what I've been made to endure.  Such shameful, vile torments I've suffered already by his hand!"

To substantiate her claim, she then tore open her sleeves to show the scratches and bruises on her arm, supposedly inflicted on her by her abductor, Fradel.

 She claimed that she had still worse ones all over her body.  "Would a lover do this to me?" she asked indignantly.

Many spectators, beguiled by her words and dramatic presentation, fixed Fradel with their burning, contemptuous glares while others, bug-eyed, simply gaped, sighed or shook their heads, wavering now in their assumption of her guilt.

Heated, animated discussions simultaneously erupted, first outside, then inside the courtroom between those that believed Yenis's innocence and saw her as a tragic victim and those that recalled Fradel's testimony or simply knew better.

Fradel, bursting with indignation and outrage, struggled violently against his shackles.  Some of the chains were stretched to the breaking point.  All who witnessed this gasped in fear and awe.  Some, who had been hardest on Fradel, now were tongue-tied, eyeing the exits as a pale-yellow streak ran down their backs.

Just then, on a signal from the Prefect, a serious blow to Fradel's head rendered him dizzy and almost unconscious.  He was vulnerable after all!  Those who, just moments before, were worried, grinned sheepishly at their own stupidity and cowardice; presently emboldened, they spat and cursed the prisoner.

Warm blood, meanwhile, oozed from the contusion, smearing half of Fradel's face.  He tasted the salty fluid (blood) on his lips, as he wavered in his stance, dancing stars and flashing lights appeared before his eyes.  He was surrounded by this crowd of ignorant nincompoops.  Easily swayed, they craved even more of his blood as the real culprit was winning their sympathies.

Even the stern visage of the Prefect was undergoing a significant change.  Secretly smitten by this beauty, he was mellowing.  Fortunately, a discreet whisper in his ear by his sound assistant Mouro, a former client of the Luko clan, quickly brought Micen to his senses.

"No use denying your guilt, vixen!" waving the documented proof in her face, he cursed Yenis.

 Fuming at having almost been made into a fool by her, he then shouted for her to be punished by five strokes to her legs. 

At once the heavy bamboo staffs (poles, sticks) mercilessly rained down on her frail, delicately shaped legs, each stroke intensified her ear-piercing shrieks and blood-curdling screams, evoking even more pity for her from the already beguiled crowd.

"Why punish her?"  They grumbled, biting their lips and shaking their heads.  "She is such a beauty, too."

"Silence in the court!"  The furious Prefect pounded his gavel on the bench to restore order.  When silence again reigned, Micen ordered the bailiffs to punish with blows the next one of the spectators who dared to utter a single sound of discontent.

Menacingly the bailiffs, with sinister smiles, held their bamboo staff high, ready to strike and searched the already cowering crowd for victims.

When Yenis was next questioned about the severed parts of her husband, Honorable Senson Luko, liver and heart and what became of them, she claimed ignorance of parts’ exact whereabouts and no amount of pressure applied could make her change her testimony.

Just then, when the Prefect again remembered the missing booty, he skipped over that line of questioning and asked instead of the whereabouts of it from her.

She fell on her knees and readily volunteered the answer; all the while sticking to her claim, that she had been taken to Kuno Temple by force where she had witnessed the culprit, Fradel, her abductor, burying it in the Large Hall.

 "With an aim to retrieve it later, the knave has cunningly disguised it as a burial mound for those cursed monks." she sneered.  "But, nevertheless, you'll find it under that pile of worthless bones.  He even threatened to bury me there, too, if I did not cooperate with his vile lust."  Cupping her face in her hands, she gave a convincing shudder, as if recalling his disgusting ogling of her.

Fradel could hardly contain his bursting rage, and a fierce storm grew in his heart.  What harm had he done her, to deserve such treachery?

Observing this, Micen grimaced in satisfaction, assuming this emotion attested to the truth of the facts but, in a second, his face again became clouded, for this presented him with a fresh set of problems, since the search for and retrieval of the goods would not be possible until after a special dispensation was secured from the Imperial Court.

On top of this, another worry also besets him.  Now that the burgled stash’s (loot's, plunder’s) whereabouts had been so carelessly disclosed to the entire court, he feared that, despite the penalty of death, some of the spectators may retrieve it before he could.  This meant even more effort and manpower to secure the temple area from such an unwanted intrusion.                                                                   

                                                    

Having no interest in the arts or literature, the name Fradel Rurik Korvald had meant absolutely nothing to Prefex Micen.  Fortunately, Ashrath, one of the court clerks, had chanced upon a volume of Fradel's poetry a couple of years prior as he was visiting a relative in the Capital, and he now suddenly recalled just who that name stood for, as well as the acclaimed poet's influence among the elite there.  He hastened forward to discretely whisper his warnings into the Prefect's ear, just before sentence was to be passed on the accused.

Suddenly an uproarious, boisterous laugh from the back rocked the entire courtroom, nearly shaking it to its foundation.  As if of one body, all heads turned to see a seated, fiery red-haired giant.

"Such insolence…  Who dares be so brazen and disorderly!  Bring forth the cheeky knave before me at once!" Micen bellowed.

The crowd (peeled) snapped apart in the middle to allow the rushing bailiffs to reach the culprit.  But the minute those in the lead came upon the stranger, still seated and glaring at them, they lost their nerves and froze perfectly still Like Mannequins allowing the rest that came after them to pile into them. 

The crowd outside the door craned their necks to see what was happening inside.

As the fierce stranger slowly rose to his feet and, with measured steps, walked weightily towards the Prefect, he looked even more formidable, and the intimidated bailiffs and the crowd once more voluntarily shrunk to the sides.

Unobstructed, the giant, (blazing) red-haired stranger walked straight to the bench, picked up the murderer's weapon and rammed the knife into the wood up to its hilt, barely missing Micen's knuckles.

Then, pointing a finger at the terrified Prefect, he thundered, "This trial is a travesty of justice, and you are not fit to be sitting on that seat."

 Panning the crowd with venomous eyes he bellowed, "All of you are beneath my contempt!" and he spat on the floor in disgust.

His intense gaze now turned back on the prefect, it burrowed deep into Micen's flesh, making the Prefect (break out) squirm in cold sweat.

With a wry grin the stranger growled, "Pay heed, for I will say this only once!  This man, known as Fradel Rurik Korvald, is innocent of any wrongdoing.  He is a gallant, principled young man whose only crime thus far is that he is too soft. Otherwise, he would not have found himself in this despicable mess (farcical situation).”

 He grimaced coldly, “If you had taken the trouble, you sorry excuse for a Prefect, to properly examine his papers you would have seen for yourself that he is a stranger to these parts.  I, myself, came across him at a remote inn in Zhingcho Province at the same time that your perjuring witnesses claimed that he was consorting with this vile, treacherous woman, whose lying tongue should be cut from her mouth."

 He had only to turn his burning gaze in her direction, his hand resting on the sword hilt at his waist, to cause Yenis to recognize him as the ghost in her room at Kuno Temple.  She shrieked and collapsed unconscious to the floor like a stone.

 "Bah!  The worm is not worth tainting my sword with her vile body fluids."

 With a snort of contempt, he again addressed Micen Do, "I will be leaving you now but, if in three days’ time Fradel Rurik Korvald is not released, you will answer for it to my sword's blade.  The metal thirsts for the heads of your kind."

09- IMMORTAL ZONAR KUNTZU

 With a cold sneer he turned his back to the Prefect, "I dare you to have your men obstruct my way!"

As he passed by Fradel, he stayed his footing (steps) just long enough to grimace at Fradel and bowed his head slightly. "I, Zonar Kuntzu, now return the favor."

He let out a boisterous, sinister laugh which grated on the nerves of the packed courtroom, then narrowed his eyes and, with a serious visage, advised Fradel, "You must harden your heart for what is to come and to finish the job I've started here."

As his hand saw the air, a sudden clap of thunder deafened everyone and immersed the courtroom in a thick mass of fiery smoke and light.  When it cleared, as fast as it had appeared, the stranger had disappeared into thin air.

All stood frozen, their tongues sticking out of gaping mouths, as they stared at the spot where, just seconds before, Zonar had stood.  It took some time before their breathing normalized, their heartbeat regulated, and they ceased trembling long enough to remember to retract their tongues.

Those with the stronger constitutions now jostled towards the door, stampeding over the bodies of the weaker ones who had fallen underfoot.  On their heels the rest followed, tottering (lurching) in streams to the outside.  Their knees knocking, their limbs trembling, they all repeated the persistent murmur etched on their lips, "Zonar!  Zonar!  We have seen the messenger of Death!"

The Prefect, having received the greatest scare of all (still tongue-tied,) at the urging of Mouro, finally regained his senses and power of speech. With his lackluster eyes, purple lips and pale, sickly face drenched in perspiration, he gave up any idea of restoring order to the court and, after dispatching the guards to search for the stranger, quickly adjourned the proceedings.  With the secretary carrying the bulk of the documents, he withdrew to his private quarters while the prisoners were hauled off to once more be pilloried in their dark cells.

(END OF SECTION 22)