12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 5

Last two or three days, Nevetsecnuac’s emotional and mental dilemma had intensified to a crescendo (climaxed), particularly as the day of summons had drawn near; fortunately for him, unspecified official concerns had kept his keenly observant and solicitous host Zaur Stugr far too busy, allowing Nevetsecnuac hence, bit respite from the tiresome, social obligations.

01- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC ) 17)JP

Recalling just then the special unopened package, a keepsake tribute gift from the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s offices, (a traditional/ceremonial court attire) delivered last night, Nevetsecnuac as a means of distracting his mind, summoned the Steward Cholden and asked him to bring it forth. If his conjecture were on the mark (spot on), he would then be obliged to, for propriety’s sake, don this array (garb) the day after tomorrow.

As anticipated, the (part armour) elaborate apparel fit Nevetsecnuac perfectly. Upon trying on the cape (cloak) though, he found out that it needed just one slight (minor) adjustment, to make the fit precise. This (alteration) he did it himself without (ado) moment’s hesitation; however, as he was adjusting one of the facets (module) of the cuff clasp as it was set too tight and had to be loosened a notch, unavoidably an invisible prong (spike) just then pricked his wrist and drew miniscule amount of blood. It was such an insignificant drop that neither he nor anyone else paid any heed (attention) to it.

Once Nevetsecnuac was donned in this magnificent and exquisitely constructed (labor intensive) finery that was a work of art, his impressive form caused all his attendants to gasp in awe. They gazed at him admiringly, their mouths agape, and with a glint of envy in their eyes.

Nevetsecnuac was far from pleased or flattered by this magnificent gift; however, mindful of the ravaging, rampant poverty, and the savage oppression of the citizens of Wenjenkun; he was dismayed to, even for a short span (spell), become a party to this decadent sort of extravagance.

02- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC)  DONS THE GIFT GARMENT JP 8

Nevertheless, after studying his resplendent form in the full-length brass mirror with unreadable (masked) expression (on his face), with a huff of derision, as this was in keeping with his scholar’s persona, Nevetsecnuac signaled for steward Cholden to help him get it off (undress). This done, the garment was quickly and lightly brushed, reverently and neatly folded, and then swiftly taken away to be stored, until future use.

That afternoon shortly after lunch, feeling more stifled by the soft, plush surroundings and the ever-vigilant beehive (whirlwind) of activity of the attendants trying to anticipate his every wish or whim, Nevetsecnuac strove to get away from it all, to release the pent-up energy coursing in his veins. But despite his ardent desire to leave the complex entirely, he did not venture far, not wishing to compound Steward Cholden’s burdens. As it were, before the assiduous (diligent) and affable Minister, Zaur Stugr had taken his leave earlier on at dawn, he had informed Nevetsecnuac that on his return at dusk, he had wished to acquaint him (Fradel Rurik Korvald) with a special, distinguished friend of his, who had been away. It was to be a token of Zaur’s appreciation of Fradel Rurik Korvald’s rare talents, his most esteemed, illustrious guest.

“It will be quite rare and most memorable treat.” Zaur, turning his head and smiling enigmatically had then reasserted, just before he had stepped inside his carriage.

Nevetsecnuac presently brushing all thought aside, leisurely or at times briskly, strolled through the complex structure of the joint gardens; after an hour this too however, had proven less than satisfactory. Moreover, he suspected that he was flushed in face and despite the fresh air, felt unusually stifled (strangulated, asphyxiated, short of breath) with the heavy, constrictive (oppressive) sensation increasingly taking hold in his chest cavity. Thinking that his discomfort was from the derivative of the intense heat from the burning rays of the cloudless mid-day sun, still permeating despite the tall, dense foliage and numerous ponds and waterfalls dotting the gardens, Nevetsecnuac opted to take a brief refuge in the library, which was a vast complex that included in it a perfectly harmonious private study. More importantly, the massive set of buildings that were nestled in the Northern sector of the complex, were structurally designed, and partially submerged in ground, to always remain temperate all year round.

Once there, Nevetsecnuac quickly dismissed the guards and all the servants to the outer chamber (hallway) anteroom, resolved as he was to indulge his weary (fatigued) senses the gratifying respite and delightful quietude up until his host had returned and he was, unavoidably cast once more into the tumultuous, murky world of the upper crust (high society). Longing now more than ever to reaffirm his old beliefs, he sought out and summarily retrieved a three-volume compiled literary works, which had often in the past been referred to by his uncle and mentor, Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon. Thence, in the bosom of the towering shelves stacked with rare and expensive volumes, seated comfortably in a plush chair, Nevetsecnuac excluded the present world from his (conscious) mind and strove to absorb himself in the wondrous, heroic times of old, at the same time encompassing the eternal teachings and anecdotes of the ancients. Surely enough, these rare compilations before long exuded such power that they cast their spell on him, and he felt strangely enough placated in his heart, mind, and soul.

                                                                                                                ~ 

03-  ZAUR STUGR JP (5)JP

                                                                                

Zaur Stugr having finally efficiently dealt with all the pressing pertinent matters on the day’s agenda, sought and gained permission from the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren to return to his residence early, to tend to his guest. He was eager to leave office for, since morning he had felt in the crux of his being a certain premonition, a foreboding, and a trepidation of sorts, that something unforeseen and perilous would (might) happen before the day’s end; even though, in view of the high stakes, he had already taken every precaution and left nothing to chance. Before leaving at dawn for his offices he had even cautioned (warned) his staff, especially his steward Cholden and the bodyguards that had been assigned to Fradel Rurik Korvald for the duration of his stay at Zaur’s residence, to be extra vigilant this day; hence, there really was no reason, no foundation for his anxiety. Hadn’t things gone without a hitch thus far? Tomorrow’s appointment with Ronterron Zuke should pass without trouble as well. Then, why was he being so edgy? The day after the summons (scholar’s audience with Sovereign), Fradel Rurik Korvald’s welfare no longer a priority concern, things should revert to normal at home.

Zaur inwardly therefore huffed (snorted), admonishing self for being too overcautious, as he entered his carriage and headed straight for home. Never an idle moment, he picked up but then put aside the document that he had taken along with him to later examine (peruse) in closer scrutiny; then pulling aside the curtain, he peered at the outside to steady his nerves and through distraction (diversion), curtail this persistent sense of disquiet that had beleaguered him even now. Since it failed to work, Zaur sat back and directed his attention instead on scholar Fradel’s most recent enigmatic conduct; this brought (dawned) a temporary pleasant smile to his lips. Subsequently however, his brows knit reflecting on, how the compiled report (dossier) on the scholar Fradel up until then had been entirely unsatisfactory. These last few days’ extra effort and intense probing had also proven fruitless; nevertheless, Zaur had the sense that he had, but barely, scratched the surface and that Fradel Rurik Korvald was by far, the most intriguing and complex individual than he led on. Meanwhile, having taken a strong liking to Fradel, Zaur knew that he would at future time, (on his own initiative,) on pretext, secure a much lengthier visit with the Illustrious Scholar, to thoroughly enjoy his company; and seizing the right opportunity then, when Fradel being on his own turf therefore more open and laidback, penetrate the Scholar’s enigmatic mantle, to accurately (discover) pinpoint the hidden layers of Fradel’s innate nature. Zaur again (through the slit,) absently watching the crowds pass by, pondered on this plan a while longer.

04- COWDS IN CHANNING

Normally Zaur did not like to have any unresolved issues left lingering (hanging) about; everything had to be with precision, quickly and neatly wrapped up (perfectly ratified). As patience had never been one of his virtues, his heightened curiosity had even prompted him to consider taking a drastic action; but then on afterthought, he had relented and aborted this course. Currently, Zaur looking away, shook his head. He would refrain from taking any drastic action; not unless Fradel Rurik Korvald could be recruited. There was really no point in pursuing this matter any further; besides which, he had scarcely any time for it. The present political uncertainty and his busy schedule left little leeway for such indulgences. Letting go wishful thoughts therefore, Zaur shrugged. This day was ending and, fortunately, nothing unforeseen had happened thus far or he would have been informed of it. The night’s planned merriment should pass quickly also without undue incident. Thankfully, the fiendish eunuch Egil Viggoaries had already departed the Capital on a mysterious errand. Taking succinct (brief) mental stock of two major future vengeful ploys that had already been instigated, Zaur Stugr’s mouth formed into a snarl and then, with a lightened heart and a complacent grin he again eased his back into the plush cushions of his carriage that, in part, buffeted the bumpy ride.

Before long, having arrived at his mansion Zaur, armed with the rare gift he had commissioned a while back, alighted from his carriage and with sure footing entered the guest quarters. Steward Cholden, greeting his master Zaur Stugr and being handed the gift to carry could not conceal (hide) his surprise. Noting this, “What is it?” eagle-eyed Zaur impatiently (irritably) in his sonorous voice demanded, as he was headed straight to the library, being informed that that’s where Fradel Rurik Korvald was at presently.

“I beg your pardon, sir, and please don’t think me too presumptuous, when I say that you are being overly generous.”  Cholden, who had been in Zaur’s service for an exceptionally long time, unable to conceal the tone of jealousy (envy) in his voice, answered with a bow. He was about to add more when Zaur, sensing (alerted) something was gravely wrong, abruptly halted his stride, turned and, cutting Cholden off with a sharp gesture of his hand, barked, “What on earth (nonsense) are you babbling about?”  Before the head steward that was taken back could recollect himself enough to give any response, Zaur had spun around and hastened on ahead.

05- FRIGHTENED STUART WHO ALMOST HAS A RUN IN WITH ZAUR

Zaur Stugr in his haste, almost has a near run-in with the panic-stricken young Stuart Tolen, who had just a moment’s before confronted the dreaded scene and, ashen faced, had rushed straight outside to seek help from the guards. Earlier, shocked to the core, he had dropped the tray he had been carrying, the contents, strewn all over, irreparably damaging the rare antique carpet where which collapsed, unconscious figure of Fradel Rurik Korvald lay.

Zaur Stugr entering the room, took in these details immediately but as (since) there was little time for reprimand or reprisal, acting on impulse, on his (Zaur’s) brusque orders, Fradel Rurik Korvald’s comatose body was at once hastily carried over to his room and he was gingerly placed (laid) atop of his bed. Since the resident physician had been sent for already, Zaur Stugr to the best of his ability tried to revive Fradel Rurik Korvald. On his directive cold (compasses) compacts were made available and repeatedly applied to the scholar’s forehead, neck and face as his garments, the restrictive parts were (simultaneously) loosened in a desperate attempt to stabilize Fradel Rurik Korvald’s steadily climbing temperature (alarming fever).

The responding physician Quinher Yungar was a conscientious man (man of rectitude) in his early thirties, with high scruples. In fact, his trustworthiness was beyond reproach. Though he had a brilliant mind, his slight speech impediment had stood in the way of his career advancement.

06- 7 -PHYSICIAN QUINHER YUNGAR JP (56)

Widowed at an early age, he had refused to remarry and lived a secluded, frugal existence in a remote corner of the Empire. Here he had devoted his energies to the study of medicine and to resolving the most difficult and incurable ailments. He had been plucked out of an anonymity (obscurity) by Zaur Stugr, when Zaur happened to be the District Magistrate to that remote town of Quekon in the Monetex Prefecture of Nokoltun Province and rescued him out of dire crisis. Out of gratitude Qinher had from then on faithfully served Zaur Stugr to repay his kindness.

It so happened that while seeking a rare herb on the slopes of Trodor mountain, Quinher had come across a dastardly assault. A powerful local bully, having abducted an honorable family’s beautiful, youngest (only) daughter, meant to ruin her, and force her to be his lover. Responding to her desperate plea (cries) for help Quinher, without a moment’s hesitation for his own safety, had rushed at once to intervene and after a brief struggle with the (brute, charlatan) ruffian Donzi Podai, managed to scare him off. He then promptly delivered her to the safety of her family.

On his return to his humble abode, however, he was met by the local (Yemen) constables and arrested. Summarily brought before the district judge he was charged with the (concocted) crimes of, abducting the very girl he had saved and, for assaulting the intervening gentleman Donzi Podai, who had striven to rescue her from a fate worse than death. Her family, under duress and (likely,) a recipient of a hefty monetary bribe, had been coerced into pressing these false charges.

Quinher, without the benefit of a just trial, indicted, in three days hence, had faced an ignoble public execution. Fortunately, however, Zaur Stugr’s timely posting to the position of District Magistrate, thwarted (foiled) this grave injustice. Reviewing the case and noting obvious irregularities in the report, Zaur Stugr stayed the execution, re-opened the case and retried Quinher Yungar. In the subsequent weeks, no amount of pressure from his superiors, covert threats, or bribes, had deterred Zaur from his just cause. In the end he had uncovered the truth and punished the guilty; but not without repercussions to self (Zaur), as the powerful Podai family had influential allies in the core political ambit (domain, sphere) in Channing. Despite his exemplary record and the subtly exerted influence of the Brotherhood of Kozurs, Zaur’s impending promotion was postponed for a year, and then two years; afterwards, as further reprisal, he was exiled to the most troublesome corner of the Wenjenkun Kingdom.

Zaur nevertheless sufficed the key challenges (naturally with the covert assistance of the Kozurs), and furthermore, brought lasting order to that region. Meanwhile Quinher, despite his acquittal (exoneration), was forced to flee to avoid trouble and to escape (survive) the underhanded persecution of the powerful Podai family’s ardent supporters. After his seven years in oblivion, never forgetting Zaur’s kindness, Quinher Yungar had eventually met up with Zaur Stugr in Channing, and offered his services to him. He had been with Zaur ever since, functioning and living in relative ease under his protective wing.

Even though Quinher Yungar had never met the full criteria for becoming a Kozur, Zaur had the utmost regard for him and had always treated him with the respect (reverence) due to an honored Uncle, rather than an employee. Subsisting in the intolerant atmosphere of the Capital, for his own safety, Qinher had been indefinitely, sequestered indoors; since then, he had lived a quite existence, in the private complex within Zaur’s mansion, functioning as the, always on call, resident physician.

Now tending to Fradel Rurik Korvald, after his brief examination and diagnosis, then a painstakingly long treatment, he eventually emerged from the room with a haggard looking Zaur Stugr in tow. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned to give Zaur a reassuring smile and a nod, “Your s…s…swift response may have s…saved his life. We t…t…treated him j…j…just in t…time. It was m…most f…fortunate t…t…that I had p…procured t…the rare antidote from t…that monk. Never had I t…thought at t…the t…t…time…”  Seeing Zaur’s impatience (tiredness), he aborted the intriguing tale of his encounter with the (strange red-haired) monk and reaffirmed (re-asserted), “We have done all we can f…for n…now. The p…proper dose has b…been administered, it will be up to him and d…divine providence, to p…pull through.”  He hissed out a long breath, and, in utter exhaustion, he plummeted into a chair.

“A moment longer would have been too late.,” he mumbled to himself, nodding then, noting Zaur’s grim, angered expression, Quinher smiled disarmingly and offered few encouraging words, “P…please d…do not worry yours…self s…so much. He looks t…to have an excellent p…physique, remarkably so, for an l…literati. If I d…did not k…know b…better…”

“Are you sure there is nothing further we can do to expedite his recovery?” Zaur asked impatiently then turned his hard, irate gaze on the steward, his faced, suffused with wrath.

“N…no, n…nothing. N…now you b…best t…tend t…to your inquiries, sir, I k…know you are m…most anxious to f…find out who is r…responsible.”  Quinher’s response temporarily drew Zaur’s attention away from the steward, allowing Cholden to make him-self scarce (sneak away).

“I will k…keep a c…close eye on F… Fradel R … Korvald f…for you; do not worry. I will inform you the m…minute there is a c…change, or on t…the p…positive note, s…should he regain c…consciousness. Of course…” Quinher hesitated, not knowing how to break the news to Zaur Stugr.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 5) 

 

 12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 4

01- PM LAMONT GUDAREN 14-JP

On the fifteenth day of the eighth month, three days prior to the summons, with the original documents duly filed in the archives by the Imperial Chancery and the copy (document bearing the list, the order of appearances in court etc.) was expediently dispatched at dawn from the offices of Qarzten Caimund -the Senior Grand Secretary’s deputy the Grand Secretary Ronguyen Kenny now temporarily  filling in for Qarzten- to the offices of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren, who essentially was held responsible for Fradel Rurik Korvald  (his timely appearance, performance, conduct and so forth), since it had been His Excellency who had recommended the esteemed scholar in Royal Court.

In its wake, two hours later another letter of consequence had arrived at the P.M.’s offices, with a dictum from Ronterron Zuke, ordering Fradel Rurik Korvald the subsequent day at a specific time and place to be (mandatorily) present at the headquarters of the Black Band Regiment in the North Palace for the purposes of, resolving one or two security clearance issues and to be instructed on recent addendums (appendixes) pertaining to court protocol.

02- RONTERRON ZUKE

Ronterron Zuke who happened to be one of the key administrative officers of the Black Band Guard Regiment, was an extremely cruel and shrewd warrior/assassin; as well, an astute official (for nothing escaped his discernment) with considerable influence in military and one who was highly regarded by Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek. Therefore, the very mention of Ronterron Zuke was enough to sent hearts palpitating with fear. Though this odd precaution had given Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren a pause for concern, after few more minutes of contemplation however, he had quickly then brushed it aside, certain Ronterron would still not find any damaging or impeachable thread (evidence) against the Illustrious Scholar. Hence, this was deemed as Ronterron’s simply utilizing (flexing) his power, to instill further fear in the hearts of PM’s administrative staff. Two hours later, both letters with the added note (court instructions) attached to it, had been promptly, that same morning, was forwarded to Minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr’s residence.

03- FRADEL RURIK CORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC) BATHES  (11)- JPG

Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac), enjoying the hospitality of Zaur Stugr, had risen before the crack of dawn on that same day and indulged his weary tense muscles in a long, therapeutic (healing, beneficial) tepid bath; after which, seated at his private veranda, he greeted the sun’s first rays, as he breakfasted.

Neversecnuac, having seen to his other morning rituals and having the time then, he retrieved both correspondences (letters) resting on the silver tray, which had been prior placed at small end table by the fireplace for his perusal. Nevetsecnuac first picked up the leaner envelop which was from Ronterron Zuke and read it carefully. It was a formal letter ordering Fradel Rurik Korvald the subsequent day at a specific time and place to be (mandatorily) present at the headquarters of the Black Band Regiment in the North Palace for the purposes of, resolving one or two security clearance issues and to be instructed on recent addendums (appendixes) pertaining to court protocol. Nevetsecnuac knitted his brows with concern. He had heard of this powerful key administrative officer of the Black Band Guard Regiment from his host Zaur Stugr and knew that nothing escaped this much feared, extremely cruel, and shrewd warrior/assassin’s discerning scrutiny. Furthermore, he was an perspicacious official with considerable influence in military and one who was highly regarded by Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek. The abrupt (unexpected) appointment with Ronterron Zuke, though labelled, (cloaked) routine (ordinary), warranted caution; therefore, he made a mental note of this and then set the letter aside.

Nevetsecnuac next, picked up the larger envelope and removing the contents from its protective cover, he dispassionately began to read: “On the fifth day of the first month in the eighteenth year of His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek’s reign, the Imperial Chancery having received this order ….”  Nevetsecnuac pensively looked away; after exhaling a slow breath, he then grudgingly perused the rest of it. “Since the time by the special favor of Heaven His August Majesty had succeeded to his rightful place of rule, His Imperial Highness, the most enlightened and benevolent ruler of all had…”

Nevetsecnuac at this point (juncture) bristled and angrily bit the corner of his lip, fuming over the reference as the ‘benevolent and Heaven Ordained Ruler,’ of this dastardly Usurper. But moment later he laughed at his naiveté and for expecting things to be any different; for consistently and throughout the ages, hadn’t the victors distorted or at times completely altered historical archives (records) in their favor? Majority ancient documents were full of such falsehoods.

Long after the perused contents (of both letters) had been, as per requested, returned to Minister Zaur Stugr’s safekeeping, finally alone and spared from the prying eyes and ears of the serving staff, Nevetsecnuac with his head down, had paced to and for in his room.

04- THE MOUNTS IN COUNTRYSIDE

Those mounts dotting the countryside filled with thousands and thousands of innocents and, to date the eternal pain and suffering of those left behind still fresh in his mind, Nevetsecnuac had found it particularly hard to bear this farce of central government’s volte-face (change of heart) and the sham benevolence of the Imperial politics…  After countless years of persecution of the literate (erudite), the Sovereign now laying claim to be relentlessly seeking to grace His Royal Court with talented young men from all corners of the Celestial Kingdom. The last part of the writ (directive) had seemed innocuous enough: “In recognition of his worth, the distinguished scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald, who has been recommended by the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren, is hereby summoned to appear in an audience at Court, on the eighteenth day of the eighth month of the twentieth year of His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek’s benevolent rule.”   

Nevetsecnuac was of course not too far off in his qualms and, would have been rather remiss to disregard his acuity that, beneath all the mundane layers of rhetoric of the summons and the abrupt appointment with Ronterron Zuke, though couched in standard (criterion) protocol (procedure), had nevertheless, a sly and dire inference (connotation). He was certain, his disguise had not been blown, which meant that the Scholar Fradel was the target of another dastardly evil ploy. But what other recourse had he, being Zakhertan and Ronterron’s determined prey, other than fearlessly walk into this multifaceted trap? Regardless of the outcome, he was in fact relieved, that the anticipated duel (combat, fight) with Zakhertan, might be sooner, even by a day.

Heeding his intuition, meanwhile, he decided on, before his appointment tomorrow with Ronterron Zuke, to at least be armed with the Immortal Zonar’s gift (the writing brush).

                                                                                            ~

Nevetsecnuac, abruptly halting by the window just then, he pensively, with a blank stare, gazed at the enchanting garden that stretched out endlessly with all its winding pathways, bridges, and ponds. This architectural marvel had been designed to, with the harmonious colors and shapes, illusions of depth and vastness, populated with frolicking rare birds and exotic animals, to bring tranquillity (solace) to one’s soul. Nature was so beautiful, peaceful, and serene; humans however, had never known lasting peace. They were an incessant blight in the natural order of things, with their insatiable wanton greed for power.

05- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD  (NEVETSECNUAC) JP 1

Nevetsecnuac, now addressed the serious dilemma that had long been plaguing his mind: The accrued info and all his experiences in Chapital Channing during these last few months in the end, like a parasitic growth germinating into doubts and then having taken permanent root, unfortunately swayed (derailed) his heart from his prior, most steadfast objective.

In his sheer exasperation he virtually (almost) clawed the air as he same time gaged (judged) the same nagging concerns (issues):  

What held the higher precedence: filial piety, duty to Ancestors, (as liegeman) loyalty to one’s sovereign, obligation of retribution for the aggrieved or the paramount tenet of Nation’s welfare?

 Once he had held in his heart the certainty that they were all one and the same under the pennant (ensign, banner) of loyalty; but his discerned ongoing political power struggles (agendas) in capital and, Wenjenkun precariously resting in the cusp of at least two that he knew of, portentous (threatening) nations- vacillated his sound (solid) cognitive logic of the present reality (truth) which put National security and the welfare of the State (overriding all) paramount in importance and forced him to reassess (review) his ardent, lifetime’s aspiration (goal, ambition).

Nevetsecnuac thoughts had, subsequently, turned to another vexing concern and one that had of late perpetually haunted his peace. His culminated experiences and understanding (from all that he’d heard, read and observed) thus far had revealed that Zakhertan Yozdek’s grip on the Nation though odiously fierce, with so many powerful factions vying for power, he was the necessary glue, if Wenjenkun was to triumph over (trounce/ vanquish) the joint invincible armies of both Kontu and Korion in the impending Great War. Hence, on the brink of this imminent and decisive war Nevetsecnuac was to succeed in his aim, Wenjenkun nation robbed of its vital, key element, the factional infighting in the Capital in conjunction with the provincial insurgences, would certainly cast the nation in utter turmoil, resulting in the eventual, catastrophic decimation of Wenjenkun’s once peerless defenses. After the ensued copious bloodshed and violence on an unprecedented scale, the remnant resistance force along with the citizens, would be made to suffer a lifetime of servitude and ultimate debasement at the hands of foreign aggression.

06- IMPENDING WARS WENJENKUN WILL BE IN

In the end, after the day of reckoning when all was said and done, would his actions liberate the wronged, would it free their tormented souls, or cast them into furtherance abysmal, eternal lamentations… Judged and condemned as he and they (those who supported his cause, the loyalists, the patriots) might all be, if the result was catastrophic or inimical (detrimental), by all the future generations?

At this point Nevetsecnuac in a perturbed (agitated) state sat down and closed his eyes; for he knew eventually he would, still bound by loyalty and filial obligation, go through with the assassination. He could not in good conscience forsake those multitudes, among which were Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, Lord Shonne Gulbrand and the beggar, who had suffered incalculable hardships and torment on his behalf to enable him, this singular chance! A task unfortunately, only he alone could attain (manage, make it happen). How could he do otherwise, and dash (shatter) all their hopes, that for so long had (hung,) rested on his shoulders?

Thus, Nevetsecnuac, was resolved to stockily bear (carry) the entire burden of guilt while his conscience had incessantly wrested with his heart, emotions, mind, and reasoning, casting his soul in utter turmoil, for he no longer was certain his aim (his future action) would be in accordance with Heaven’s will.

Nevetsecnuac was beset, moreover, with burgeoning shame, shame at his very questioning of the validity of his role (part) in all of this! And so, in deep vexation Nevetsecnuac had again started to endlessly, like a caged tiger, to pace the room back and forth, at times (occasionally) stamping his foot in fury and shaking his fist into the air as he muttered indecipherable words (to himself), or relenting, swore in silence an oath of vengeance on behalf of all his ancestors and the countless thousands of others who had been so grievously wronged all these years by this tyrannical, unconscionable fiend Zakhertan Yozdek.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 4)                                                                       ~

 

 

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 14

Qarzten Caimund’s shrewd policy of routinely checking beyond the official records of everyone, who had entered government service in Capital Channing, had yet again proven fruitful. Especially since, his hand-picked expert team in no time at all had uncovered lost bits of interesting facts about Nijel Pinng; that, an astute Censorate official had incidentally, purely by accident discovered, just before his suspicious death from a sudden stomach ailment (rupture):  that Nijel Pinng was the illegitimate half-sister to Lady Sejon. 

 

01- KENON RIEN

On further inquiry Qarzten Caimund had found the circumstances of Nijel’s life unfurling like the plot of a lowest currency denomination, a marketplace performance (play):

Sejon's aristocratic, philandering father Kenon Rien, had once passed through Moulon Province and result of one nights’ unbridled passion, with one of that region's rare beauties an innocent young girl named Arnora, he had begotten (produced, precipitated) the illegitimate twin offsprings.

 

02- ARNORA (14)

As the beauty Arnora was, unfortunately so far below Kenon's station/class, instead of doing the honourable thing, Kenon had through intimidation (bullying, strongarming) secured the mayor’s (village burgomaster’s) and her parents’ silence and instead arranged, well before her pregnancy showed, for her to be hastily married off to an aged but respectable Esquire Niet Wanner. The Esquire’s young wife had recently passed away because of a fever, leaving behind a wailing infant girl, which was Sejon. Such things did happen in the remote villages.

At the time, the Esquire Niet Wanner was in his mid fifties, and Arnora barely eighteen years old. Despite the age difference, Esquire Niet was a gentle soul and so treated his new bride Arnora with gentle respect, tolerance, and adoration.

 

In this blissful co-existence, laughter, and music once more permeated through the halls of Esquire Niet Wanner’s modest size, three story-mansion (villa); and typically, during this harmonious period Sejon experienced the unconditional love from her stepmother Arnora- alas, it was not to last!

After the nine month’s pregnancy, Arnora had opportunely expired from a complication of a difficult birthing. The case of her sudden, unexpected demise, was expediently covered up (without the knowledge of Esquire Niet Wanner); this, with secretly dispensed generous bribes from the Rien Clan, therefore, permanently silencing the attending physician, the mayor, and the other pertinent (relevant) local officials.

 

03- ESQUIRE NIET WANNER - JP

Esquire Niet Wanner, meanwhile, was utterly devastated by this terrible loss, for he had from the first, been besotted (love-struck, smitten) with his enchantingly beautiful young wife; now, considering himself unlucky or jinxed, he swore never to wed again.

Consequently, the three infants, Sejon and the twins were thus placed in the care of a wet-nurse Luse, who had providentially (conveniently, luckily), when the old nanny suddenly succumbed to an accident, by falling down from a flight of stairs and breaking her neck, in Esquire Wanner’s household: At that juncture, Luse had showed up seeking employment as a wet-nurse.

Luse, claimed her Scholar husband, she, and their seven-week-old infant son, had just happened to have arrived at Moulon Province; unfortunately, result of a boating accident, she had lost them both. Furthermore, she had no other family in this region, she was now stranded here, left all alone to fend for herself. In truth, Luse had been secretly handpicked by Kenon, and furnished with documentation this background-story, to keep an eye on what he deemed was his property, till more apt measures could be implemented.

 

04- WET-NURSE LUSE

Qarzten’s men had also uncovered, that Arnora had in fact, as Qarzten Caimund had suspected, been murdered on Lord Kenon's implicit order; after her father Tom Raygard, in his desperation, had attempted to, unsuccessfully, extort funds from Kenon Rien.

As consequence of heavy flooding that year, his crops had failed miserably and he stood on the brink of ruin; more importantly, Tom Raygard had lacked the essential funds for the medical care that was required to preserve his wife’ life. Farmer Tom, as he was known to most, was a decent sort but was forced to this despondent (extreme) measure.

Tom Raygard in his unrelenting pursuit of justice for his  deceased daughter Arnora, meanwhile, anticipating Kenon’s diabolical aim, had just made up his mind to confess all about the unlawful coercing which had forced him and Arnora to accede to the demands of  Kenon Rien and to warn Esquire Niet Wanner of the more current hidden threat from Rien Clan, pertaining to his infant twins.  Before he could act on this however, his aim had been abruptly, promptly thwarted (foiled, terminated); when during the violent, stormy night, a lightening struck the roof of his homestead, setting the structure completely ablaze. The ensuing (resultant) fire had gutted the decade old, partly decrepit two-story wooden farmhouse within seconds and, everyone previously tugged in their beds on the second story (floor, level) being unable to get to safety, had perished.

 

05- TOM RAYGARD -JP

There had been two or three mutely (wordlessly, murmured) raised, though quickly supressed queries (questions) about the spread of the fire being far too rapid; thus, feasibly precipitated by intentionally (purposely) placed tinder or a flare, it had unfortunately, tragically begotten multiple fatality.

Definitely one irksome speculation, in fervent whispers, had persisted; this,  founded on  an offhand remark, an accusation, from a bold constable- that besides the conflagration (inferno) caused by the lightening at the rooftop, there was also, though beyond coup (reduced to ashes, embers) scant evidence (trace) of strategically placed kindling that had proliferated (burgeoned) the seriousness of devastation from above and below.

Afterwards, these annoying inklings (whispers, notions) too were checked; particularly since the ultimate result had conveniently (for the aristocrat Rien Clan,) tied up the reminder loose ends. The matter was expediently wrapped up and filed away as consequence of natural disaster; this, so as not to impede (hinder, hamper) Kenon Rien’s future political ambitions.

Sejon, however, was soon to be orphaned herself as the Esquire Niet Wanner, a week before his suicide, had acquired an insurance policy with an efficient, fearsome organization covertly known as the Brotherhood of Kozurs. The powerful federation (association, alliance) that had operating members, even at the farthest reaches of the Wenjenkun Empire, for a minimal cost, discreetly (prudently) addressed without fail, extremely difficult and all outstanding injustices. No one, however powerful, could escape their deadly talons; two days hence, the invincible (indomitable) Kozur assassins sent the aristocrat Kenon Rien to accompany the Esquire in death, but on an ignominious journey, straight to Hell!

The twins, meanwhile, because Esquire Niet Wanner’s had overlooked this eventuality, had been successfully secreted away (abducted), the moment of Niet’s demise; this order was issued directly from the top echelon of the Rien Clan, which considered the twins, akin Kenon Rien, as Clan ‘property.

Subsequently, twins were separated; the fate of the male child was still a mystery, the girl however, had been successfully traced by Qarzten Caimund’s competent men, to the household of a Magistrate Ronian Keru in Moulon Province, now under the suzerainty of Lord Shouzi Yozdek.

 

06- MAGISTRATE RONIAN  KERU OF MOULON PROVINCE

Qarzten  Caimund had long suspected this region (the Moulon Province), to be a hotbed of insurgency, as well as criminal (illegal) activity, though regrettably, he had lacked solid evidence to indict His Lordship Shouzi Yozdek of a serious breach or a treason. As Ronian Keru was on his concise list of conspirators, Qarzten Caimund had been keeping Nijel under surveillance way before she had showed up in the Capital.

About a month ago, Qarzten’s patience had finally (paid off) been rewarded when his agents had intercepted a letter from her former master who, despite his leave of absence for health reasons, was still the pawn of his Lordship Shouzi Yozdek. Alas, the coded message had been more difficult than usual to decipher and though Qarzten Caimund had a special team working on it around the clock, to date there had been no real progress (reported).  

As it were, this setback had come closely on the heels of another more devastating one. A while ago the only sure evidence against Shouzi, an incriminating letter written by him to Kujoge Yozdek, had been the means of an extortion attempt on the Lord. This letter had been traced to a freelance spy identified as a Ms. Jepipi. Just as Qarzten Caimund’s operatives had been about to close in on her at the bustling port of Kenzo, she had mysteriously vanished along with her trackers. The trail of the letter had gone cold from there on.

Of course, Qarzten Caimund could have incarcerated Nijel Pinng, on the charge of gaining her employment under false pretenses to spy on the throne and then tortured her to extract the required confessions. This would have only gotten him as far as her former master Ronian Keru however, who would have long been dead before the adequate law enforcement forces could arrest him. And so, temporarily Qarzten had ignored Sejon’s pitiful efforts to hide Nijel’s involvement in the business of the penknife. But then, Qarzten had much bigger fish to fry, and he did not want to draw up his net only to find two small shrimps ensnared in it. Nijel Pinng was far more useful kept as bait to trap all other significant conspirators. For that reason, if nothing else, Qarzten had bided his time till he had attained more solid evidence that was sure to follow. Then with these indisputable proofs in his arsenal, he could in one swoop (precise action), cleanse the system of all its parasitical elements.                                    

                                                                           ~

 

The subsequent day's extensively compiled report on Imperial Tutor Worren Youkup’s early morning unscheduled visit to Lady Sejon and the particulars of that meeting had both disappointed and exasperated Qarzten Caimund. He had expected more from one with Royal tutor’s competence; meanwhile, the specifics of Sejon's brilliant performance had made Qarzten wince. He had secretly abhorred her for her deceitful ways but now he held Sejon in even greater contempt for, not only corrupting the impeccable reputation of an innocuous old tutor Worren Youkup but also using his lifelong principles against him. This needless complication had come about because of Sejon’s informants had failed to pass on in time to her, Zakhertan Yozdek’s recent change of heart and his subsequent decision to establish Magnian, once the boy prince had reached the proper age, as the new Crown Prince. Nijel's palliative, sneaky suggestion meanwhile in reality, a double-edged sword, had caused Sejon to further jeopardize (sabotage) her standing.

Qarzten Caimund quietly reflected on the (previously) intercepted, second secret message from Nijel; though not yet deciphered, he could deduce (fathom) the contents from the subsequent corresponding events. The sudden onset of Lady Sejon’s illness after Worren’s visit for instance had come as no real surprise, although the choice of surrogate Royal Physician, who had attended her, had piqued (annoyed) Qarzten’s interest. Particularly since her ordinarily a robust personal physician had so abruptly was indisposed by a mysterious ailment, necessitating this opportune replacement by Enqui Rimeng, the personal physician of her nemesis Prince Herleif.

 

07- YOUNG ROYAL PHYSICIAN ENQUI RIMENG (1)

A barely detectable frown registered on Qarzten’s lips as he had quickly pinpointed the devious hand behind all this. Even though these recent developments would only slightly alter the portended course of events, Qarzten leaving nothing to chance, set to cover all bases, as well, manage any fluke insidious eventualities.

Later that evening, following his usual routine, Qarzten Caimund dismissed his assistant for a time and shut himself up in his study to deal with this and other most urgent (pressing) and delicate matters of the day. Most nights Qarzten had typically skipped sleep altogether (being a habitual insomniac) examining all vital reports, before presenting these with apt addendum resolutions, to Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek (the only other who never seemed to need any sleep) later in the hour.   

In just less than an hour the first eight cases were summarily dispensed with when, upon opening a file and perusing its contents with one glance, a thin smile supplanted the habitual stern expression on Qarzten’s face.

“Good!” He hissed, very much relieved at having received confirmation of the postponement of Prince Herleif’s actual conspiracy to eliminate Magnian.

This was certainly welcome news for it eradicated another burdensome matter from Qarzten Caimund’s hectic schedule. Had his gentle coercion not worked, he would have had to implement dicey measures or lethal force to thwart the assassination attempt on Prince Magnian. It was not because he had been ordered to preserve Magnian's life, nor was it out of kindness that Qarzten had taken upon himself the task of safeguarding the boy. In the past he had not intervened in the demises of the other Princelings but then the circumstances had not been as volatile. This course was warranted because of the precarious (foreign) political circumstances created by both Korion and Kontu, with the greater danger stemming from Hedenko. In the likelihood of Herleif’s premature demise, the absence of an immediate replacement would set a dangerous precedence within the realm of Wenjenkun.

At this point Qarzten Caimund feeling tetchy, rose and walked over to stand, hands clasped behind his back, before the open doorway that led to the private veranda. A gentle breeze stirred the curtains that had been pulled back to either side, letting in the cool, crisp air into the room to gently caress his face. Qarzten had worked all through the night yet felt unaffected by it. Stretching out his limbs, he absently observed how the first reddish glow of the dawn streaking in over the high wall, then bathed the tranquil scene in the garden. The low-lying mist on the dew simply glistened like precious gems on the green grass, plump leaves and on the petals of the exquisite orchids. No artist's brush could create such a breathtaking depiction as that which now lay before his eyes; nature alone, that one unrivaled expert craftsman, had the only means with which to embody (illustrate) such wonder!

The rising songs of the awakening birds and insects next greeted his ears announcing the impending arrival of another brilliant day; despite his outward passive complacency however, his mind was still beset with worrisome loose ends. Suddenly feeling famished he turned away, sauntered (moseyed) back to his seat then comfortably settled in, he called out to his assistant, the one who had just moment’s prior reported for work as the shift had changed.

Indicating with a slight movement of his chin, the night's completed work for him to dispense, Qarzten succinctly next instructed the trusted aid to see to it that, after his quick sluice (sponge down), he be served his customary light breakfast, this time at the terrace.

 

08 -QARZTEN CAMUND (17)A - JP3

Once the simple repast was placed in readiness before him Qarzten Caimund, followed his habitual routine and partook of it quickly then, returned inside and went immediately right back to work. Marveling at his master's stamina, the assistant brought in the newest stack of documents and then stepping aside quietly waited, for them to receive Qarzten’s stamp of office (mark, hallmark).

In no time at all the Senior Grand Secretary had finished with this first pile and reached for the smaller second set of correspondence, marked "Confidential" in red lettering, which had next been quickly brought in as soon as the first pile was taken away. Qarzten pulled these new documents squarely in front of him and picking up the topmost one, broke the seal, retrieved the inside letter, then eased back into his chair to peruse its contents. In one glance he had absorbed the contents of the carefully worded report. A glint of a smile just then brushed his lips, “Good, they have finally deciphered the code. From now on we will have a much better idea of her correspondence and of their future, illicit activities.

It was about time, too; fortunately, at present, no drastic measures were warranted. Nevertheless, he impatiently drummed his fingers on the desk for he had never liked being stymied. He re-read the last part of the report and the decoded succinct messages once more, this time more assiduously, his lips forming the words noiselessly. "Cock not in possession of prize. It’s whereabouts still unknown."  Qarzten Caimund leered despite himself at the whimsical reference to the feared Black Eunuch Egil Viggoaries as the 'Cock'. This was a good turn of phrase; Nijel had both guts and a sardonic sense-of-humor.

More importantly, Caimund’s hunches about Viggoaries being the extortionist had been right on the mark, but now the Dark Eunuch had lost the advantages of the leverage it had given him over Lord Shouzi Yozdek.

“He must be livid.” Qarzten Caimund looked away, continuing with his quiet reflection, “That explains the Eunuch's latest series (cycle) of unbridled, perverse tyrannies. Worse still for Viggoaries, Lord Shouzi Yozdek has finally put a face to his tormentor and will now bring to bear his full vindictiveness against him. Even so, Viggoaries has enough devious power to thwart these impending assaults and extricate himself totally from these troubles in the same way he always has.”   

 

(END OF SECTION 14)

 

 

                                                                                     ~ 

 

 11-LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 7

Looking at his useless son, Zakhertan Yozdek, despite his misgivings, was reminded of the prince’s beloved, and now deceased mother, Lady Elin Yozdek.

01- LADY ELIN YOZDEK (2)jp

 

Herleif bore some resemblance to Lady Elin; for one thing they both had penetrating, honey-brown eyes, and long lustrous auburn (chestnut) hair with loose, sheen curls. Lady Elin had been the only woman who had come close to earning not only Zakhertan’s deep affection but also his unqualified respect, which was no small feat by any means. Though Zakhertan had taken several wives since, none had come close to comparing to her noble stature, brilliance of mind, beauty or sensuality or the other special talents and attributes she possessed. Still, it did not redeem (deliver) her from a grievous, gruesome end at the hands of her admiring husband when Zakhertan had found it necessary to be free to marry Idona, then Prime Minister Adelram’s daughter.

This had been but one of the many steps he had taken towards the realization of his grand design, and all of them had required sacrifices of one sort or the other.

“All the more is the pity,” he mused, studying Herleif’s face, “the boy has gained none of her (Lady Elin’s) characteristics when he inherited her looks.” Zakhertan knew that Prince Herleif had benefited nonetheless from his remorse at killing Lady Elin and that this had been yet another reason for his tolerance, of this unworthy offspring, this exceptionally long. But all that was going to change now. His heart once more turned to stone, Zakhertan glared at his son.

Without the Sovereign's permission to speak, prince Herleif, burdened with documents, had stood rigidly in his abject stance even as Zakhertan moved unexpectedly away from the window and came swiftly towards him. Zakhertan not uttering a word, circled his son like a predatory beast (or a hunting hawk), his steps coming to an abrupt halt, when his back was Infront of the closed door. In sharp contrast to his son, the Sovereign presented the very picture of might and authority that could inspire awe and fear in any man. Flashing in Zakhertan Yozdek’s icy, penetrating pupils just then was a single, somber calculation that caused Prince Herleif’s hairs on the back of his neck to bristle (stand on end).

"Well, what is it you want?"  The words, outwardly innocuous, were harsh and abrasive, their tone speaking volumes full of disapproval and contempt. Zakhertan noted with disdain how Prince Herleif had involuntarily flinched at the sound of his voice then as the fear was quickly mastered and the prince spun sharply about to face him and bowed respectfully, Zakhertan felt a certain satisfaction but hid his amused smile.

Prince Herleif, formally addressing his father, briefly stated the purpose of his visit.

"Very well," Zakhertan consented brusquely. "A few minutes, that’s all, I will spare you."  He gestured sharply, beckoning his son closer to the desk as he returned to sit once more in his plush chair.

With the outward appearance of patient parent, Zakhertan with a stern face heard prince Herleif out, all the while lending only a disinterested ear to his son's theoretical babbling. Prince Herleif on his part relayed in measured and lucid speech how, having been beset by disturbing dreams, he had consulted the positioning of the stars in addition to the oracle provided by the bones. To be ascertained (to ascertain the facts), he had shaken the bones for the second and third time only to reach in every instance the same outcome for the reading:  his illustrious father Zakhertan Yozdek and the Wenjenkun kingdom faced a bad omen. Soon, (in a noticeably short while) after a Nationwide upheaval, the definite downfall of the present regime was forecasted. Braving his most esteemed, sovereign father Zakhertan’s wrath, therefore, duty bound Herleif had come forward to forewarn his Majesty of this fact. The prince then asked permission to elaborate on the details necessary to substantiate his claim.

02- PRINCE HERLEIF YOZDEK (4)jp

Much to his delight, Herleif received a begrudging, stern nod from Zakhertan. Quickly he unfolded the first of his charts and proceeded to give an interpretation to the intricate geometrical diagrams and particulars which he had meticulously drawn, marked, and outlined.

Glancing at these, Zakhertan Yozdek noted how the drafting was so fine the piece could be considered an exceptional work of art solely on its own merits. “Why couldn’t his dastardly (burdensome baggage) son akin have shown, skill with military charts? At least then his talent could have been utilized, instead of this absurd gibberish, hogwash.”  Though he would never own up to it, Zakhertan was in fact, quite adept at astrology himself, having employed it during his youth many times to justify actions he had wished to take. Presently, taking in the details at-a-glance, he had briefly deciphered it already for himself, long before Prince Herleif had finished his explanation, inwardly concluding that some of Herleif’s interpretation had been right on the mark. There was one curious variance (discrepancy) however that Herleif had entirely missed; there were not one but two stars, directly positioned one behind the other, that it could easily be misconstrued as one. The juxtaposition of planets and stars meanwhile, were quite precise, right down to the birth of the new star, already much brighter than the star of Zakhertan Yozdek’s, which was ever so slowly moving into the ruling position in the constellation that governed the state of Wenjenkun. The future the fates foretold was quite obviously that of his dynasty's downfall at the hands of one, which would then be followed by another, a rising Sovereign to be. And the timing of one would be quick but not the other, at least not as quick as Herleif had predicted.    

Zakhertan at this point reflected how just last night in the Royal Observatory he had discerned (perceived) this new manifestation in the constellation but was disappointed to note that, its position and timing precluded it from being in any way related to the birth of Prince Magnian. Now that Zakhertan saw the chart laid out in front of him like this, he noted with slight trepidation, how close the first star was to the house of the former rulers. Could it be? No! Zakhertan dismissed the notion instantly. Even if he could have survived, the likelihood of that happening was ridiculously far-fetched. Zakertan chastised self. Besides, when had he ever attached any credence to such superstitious nonsense…  Ravings like these were useful only for amusement and for manipulating the gullible, nothing more.   

 Zakhertan turned his attention back to Prince Herleif who had just then unraveled the second diagram on the desk. This one was exceptionally crafted as well. “The wimp has a real talent here; too bad it is wasted.”  Taking no stock in what Herleif was saying, Zakhertan’s conciliatory mood abruptly dissipated, and he disdainfully scoffed, “So what if Herleif showed promise, had excelled in the black arts of Astrology and Alchemy? This vast knowledge would not serve him at all in the end.”      

With a bitter taste in his mouth, Zakhertan Yozdek recalled Herleif’s spitefulness and how his shrewish and ruthless applications of his knowledge and power had, in the past, won his son more enmity than praise.   

Crown Prince Herleif meanwhile having misinterpreted Zakhertan’s habitual inert mask (which Zakhertan wore at such boring times) and encouraged by his father's unusual tolerance, pegged these signs as interest. Consequently, with an overflowing enthusiasm that colored his words, he began to elaborate further on his hypothesis. Herleif had never known anything resembling to affection from Zakhertan Yozdek and was now having difficulty properly gauging such an alien concept. This was the closest he had come to an approval by his cold-hearted parent, and he had erroneously assumed that, for the first time, he was making some headway in communicating with Zakhertan.     

At one-point Zakhertan with an unreadable expression rose from his seat and hands clasped behind his back, walked over to the window to again stare at the outside. As there had been no command for Herleif to stop, the prince had continued with his incessant babblings. The prince Herleif’s bewilderment at Zakhertan’s reticence (silence) was shared by Neru who, having just finished with his task of burning the most trivial of the day's documents was standing at unease (disquietly) in a corner of the room mentally noting all that was being said as he awaited the Sovereign's next command. Zakhertan at present appeared temporarily distracted by one of the brightly plumed songbirds which, after finishing its bath, had alighted on the windowsill to fluff its feathers and dry off thoroughly.   

Contrary to appearance however, Zakhertan from the corner of his eye (in a side view) had observed (noted) how Herleif had quickly untied the knot binding of the last scroll and, with a completely inappropriate flourish, unfurled it (across) on top the desk. Instantly Zakhertan’s attention was riveted to the stiletto that, previously hidden in the scroll, had now been exposed. It was the most common, innocuous kind of penknife or a carving knife; it was not a weapon of choice for any would be assassin. Still facing the window, Zakhertan waited to see what his worthless son would do next. Prince Herleif, nonplused, stood frozen in his place, fear gripping his heart.   

Without turning, Zakhertan Yozdek barked, "Go ahead, pick it up!" 

03- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (57)JP

All at once the color drained from the prince’s already pallid but now completely ashen face. Trembling from head to toe like a leaf in a gale, he fell to his knees and repeatedly beat his forehead on the floor, vehemently professing his innocence in a choked voice. "I don't know how it got there, your Majesty. I do not. I did not put it there. “    

“I have been set up. Please, father, I swear, I had no knowledge of this. "He continued these denials in the contemptible, quaking croaks that further grated on Zakhertan’s irate nerves.  

“Just as I thought,” Zakhertan Yozdek highly incensed, stared at the giant marble legendary warrior stationed by the stone bridge thirty feet away in the garden, furious with his son for his abhorrent, self-debasing beseeching. Yet this was worse, far worse, than if Prince Herleif had indeed been behind this juvenile attempt. He might have even forgiven Herleif had he the backbone to seriously try assassinating him.    

Zakhertan snorted in utter disgust, “This is unforgivable; he is being made the fool. How did it come to this; who would dare make such a mockery of my, albeit an imbecile, royal spawn (offspring)? I should crush this inexcusable insect now and be done with him, just as I will crush those who are behind this reprehensible farce. “    

 "You are a disgrace!” he turned and snarled at his son; teeth bared. He raised his clenched left fist as if to strike and pulverize Herleif’s skull but abruptly held back, his rage still mounting. In a split second his right hand snatched the knife and flung it with incredible force at the songbird; so agile and quick was this move that the unfortunate birdie did not stand a prayer of a chance. Just as it had spread its wings to take a flight, the blade pierced its chest through and (before its last breath) hurled it backward, pinning it tightly to the ledge.  

"Guards,” The roaring command caused the dumbfounded Neru to jump several feet up in the air. Coming to his senses, he could only cast pitying eyes upon the quivering prince Herleif as two guards rushed in.   

"Take him away!"  Zakhertan pointed to the crown prince, still on his knees. "And give him fifty blows with the heavy staff for good measure, no less and no more."  Zakhertan knew that the hundred strokes that were required in this situation would prematurely kill the miserable wretch.    

“No; death will not come to you that mercifully Herleif, for you have not yet outlived your usefulness.” Zakhertan glowering at Herleif mused.   

Reluctantly Zakhertan also had to admit that, for now, he needed the prince alive for the stability of the succession until the toddler Magnian's chances of survival were assured. With certain distaste in his mouth, he watched the indignant, yet cowardly Herleif being roughly (man-handled) moved away by the guards. They had gripped him by the arms and, being much taller than the prince, they were holding him several inches off the ground.  

“Of course, you could never inspire respect in anyone, could you?” Zakhertan scoffed then signaled the guards (a slight lifting of the index finger) to wait. Instantly they halted in their tracks.    

"Thank your lucky stars that you are being dealt with so leniently."  Zakhertan strode over to pin his menacing glare to his son’s terrified face. "With each stroke of the staff I want you to contemplate on just why you are being punished. Do you understand me, boy?”    

"Now, get him out of my sight."    

For a man who had celebrated his ascension (ascent) to adulthood some five years ago, being called a 'boy' in front of others was a most demeaning insult, but Prince Herleif completely missed this fine point, as well as his larger, more grievous failure.  

"Father, I'm innocent! Please father, please hear me out." He pleaded as he was being unceremoniously hauled to the dungeons.

    

                                                                                 ~    

 

(END OF SECTION 7)