LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 34

It had been quite a row, a real humdinger of a fight, all right!  He couldn't have been much more than nine or ten, but Tizan was well enough developed for his age to, at long last, hold his own against that brute.  “He had rebelled soon enough, though, hadn't he?”

From the age of seven he had relentlessly fought back each time his stepfather had taken to drink and viciously turned on him. Had his father not died or that his mother did not re-marry, he had always wondered, perhaps things might have been different. 

Tzan had suffered greatly; as far back as he could remember, all through his childhood in fact, with many beatings, constant verbal abuse and endless torment at the hands of his stepfather Zianko. (First mentioned in Book 1 - Fisherman’s Prize- Section 3)

 

01-  ZIANKO

No man could be more vicious to a child.   The vile brute Zianko was a heartless, greedy, selfish dog! Then came the day on which Tzan’d been an eyewitness to Zianko’s murdering his mother. Perhaps the only time she’d stood up to him, fighting desperately to uphold her son’s right to inherit her former husband’s estate. But no one took any notice of Tizan’s claims or accusations, for Zianko had already arranged to make it look like a perfect, irrefutable accident. Shortly after, Tizan had suddenly fallen deadly ill, and very nearly died, but he had recovered, in time to learn, that his stepfather Zianko had been cleared of all charges. Meanwhile secretly from then on, the brute had conspired to murder him (Tizan) before he reached the age of twelve.

On that night, two months before he was to turn twelve, their brawling had reached a peak when that beast Zianko, unable to gain advantage with his hands alone, had taken up an oar and struck a hard, brutal blow at Tizan’s temple, knocking him out cold.  When Tizan regained consciousness in small hours of the night, he'd at once secretly taken off, preferring the unknown dangers of the mountainous forest to certain, slow death at his stepfather Zianko’s hands. Just before he left, he, looking back on the fishing village, had inwardly vowed to someday kill Zianko if he ever came across him again.

 

                                                                                  ~

 

Tizan now looked back out at the spot where the boat had been short time before, his eye catching the first of the mangled wreckage bob up to the surface.  For a moment he imagined that it was his stepfather’s boat and each of the bodies it took to the bottom with it was Zianko, killed repeatedly.  The image gave him little satisfaction, but it was the best he could muster at present. Even after many years of intense loathing, same seething, all-consuming abhorrence of Zianko still coursed through his veins.

“Odd that I'd remember Zianko now,” Tizan turned his attention back to the pitched battle still raging between captain Zunrogo Tugo and Lance Diostin.

“Devils take me!  How could I have frittered away (waste) all that time, with just reminiscing… where’s my good sense?”  His guts were gnawed by self-reproach. 

 

02--TZAN JP

In truth, the squandered time had only been no more than a heartbeat.

Snatching a sword from the nearest corpse and carving a deliberate course, Tizan rushed into the fray, wanting to fight alongside Zunrogo; but the dizzying and intense speed (never once dwindling), skill and agility with which Zunrogo and Lance Diostin fought, interlocked as they were in that kind of a continuous, sound combat, did not afford Tizan least opportunity (opening) to intercede.

Unrelenting, Tizan kept mental notes on Lance Diostin’s unique fighting style and any potential weakness in his offensives as he combatted other foes; all the while, he sought an opportunity to intervene with a well-placed strike at Lance Diostin.

He gradually lost heart when he observed how flawlessly Lance executed his offensives without giving up an inch of his defensive position.  Lance had no failings of any kind.  Though captain Zunrogo was the most competent fighter Tizan had known, Zunrogo was dwarfed in martial skills by his invincible opponent and even was forced into maintaining only a defensive course for much of the time.

Tizan, meanwhile, had soon run out of opponents to fight, and he stood looking about, surrounded by heaps of corpses, for least sign of life for which to extinguish. Disappointed he turned his attention back to the only ongoing action (contesting duo).

“Strange,” Tizan mused, observing how there’d been few instances during which a flaw in Zunrogo's defenses had left an opening, a perfect opportunity for a strike, yet his opponent Lance Diostin had ignored these obvious advantages.

“Oh, he’s so shrewd; adroit that he is, is he just toying with the captain?”

 Tizan inwardly questioned Lance Diostin’s motive, while at the same time with a sinking feeling, grew (became) skeptical of Zunrogo’s ability for the first time ever.  “He’s not invincible after all, is this the mentor I've sworn an unconditional allegiance to?”

Before he could follow up on his doleful, glum (gloomy, woeful) thoughts, the rarest opportunity just then had presented itself.  Lance had for a split second let his guard down, allowing slight vulnerability in his rear.  Fearlessly, Tizan jumped into the fray, recklessly not giving his brain (his senses) apt time to grasp (comprehend, gather) that Lance Diostin might have deliberately and with specific design, slackened off just enough to afford him (Tizan) this rare chance.

"The more the merrier!" warding off both sets of blows, Lance Diostin threw his head back and laughed; he then set to with equal equanimity and deadly precision, simultaneously attacking both Zunrogo and Tizan. 

"For a moment there, I thought that you would turn tail and run, Lieutenant.  Now, at least, I have a more even match.  I wouldn't want to be accused of taking unfair advantage of Captain Zunrogo here.  Oh, let me thank you, sir, for your invaluable service in ridding me of that excess baggage back there…. ha, ha!"

Lance talked and fought with equal ease; meanwhile, Lance Diostin’s fluid, swift maneuvers strained both his opponents’ defensives, their ability to the brink and, at the same time, restricted their corresponding strikes. By all accounts, Lance Diostin wasn't even trying all that hard.

 

03-LANCE DIOSTIN JP 12

Bristling at his arrogance, both Zunrogo and Tizan intensified their efforts and succeeded in, for an instant, turning the battle to the offensive.  Yet, despite their perfectly orchestrated, deadly onslaught, they still could not weaken or best Lance Diostin.

Lance Diostin’s amusement faltered after a while and he picked up momentum, wielding his sword with lightning speed and deadly effect.  He redoubled his offensive strikes with unyielding power, strength and unsurpassed cunning and agility, striking at places where there seemed to be no opening, piercing defenses that appeared flawless.  This intense, pitched fighting continued for a short spell though for Zunrogo and Tizan it seemed to be an eternity.

The two, finding themselves in dire straits, fought on with all their might but were unable to keep their adversary at bay.  They were hanging on only by the skin of their teeth.  Then, while fending off a deadly thrust by Zunrogo, Lance Diostin swiftly twirled and landed a good, swift kick squarely on Tizan's chest.  It was fortunate that Tizan had not discarded his armor, otherwise his ribs, which took the brunt of this attack, would have been instantly pulverized.  Still, the force of the blow was enough to hurl him right across the deck and into the mast, where he slumped down, unconscious.  Tizan was still not out of danger, for Lance had raced to follow his flying body and was at the point of decapitating his helpless form in the next heartbeat.

Zunrogo, putting on an all-out effort, had leapt over to the mast and, in the nick of time, intervened with deadly force to block Lance Diostin’s strike.

 Taking a stance between Lance and the Lieutenant Tzan, Zunrogo hurled curses, dares and taunting assaults while strategically retreating, (to lure) to draw Lance Diostin away from Tizan towards an un-sprung trap further down the deck.  This, Zunrogo perceived, would be his best hope of besting his nemesis.

However, it proved ineffectual.  Lance Diostin was too insightful, too clever to be caught unawares by the deadly snare.  In fact, with an agile maneuver, Lance forced Zunrogo to spring the trap.  Zunrogo escaped, only with a hairsbreadth, as the hurtling blade flew past the side of his neck to land in the river.  Zunrogo had trained himself to never ever consider defeat during a battle and so, he continued to fight in a desperate all-out struggle.

Lance Diostin clearly could have annihilated the captain at any time but, again, he slackened off on his assaults, clearly deriving a particular pleasure from toying with his eventual victim.  "Well, my friend", Lance hissed, "I must thank you for affording me this wonderful practice session.  It is only rarely that I get to use my full skills these days.  You see, once I reach my full potential (ability), my opponents invariably end up dead and, of course, it would be unwise of me to leave any witnesses to circulate reports of my true skill.  Good sparring partners are hard to find, you know.  So, you, sir, may go to your death knowing that your worthless life has, indeed, served some small purpose.”

Zunrogo realized too late how he had been led to mortally (fatally) underestimating Lance Diostin's true prowess.  Had he but known, he could have deployed more powerful reinforcements, adopted more effective means, engaged in diversionary tactics, or considered retreat, to just live to fight another day.

 

04- ZUNROGO AND lANCE DIOSTIN CLOSE COMBAT

As it stood, he was failing miserably.  He knew he had only himself to blame for this grave oversight.  He had been well versed in military strategy and should have perceived the possibility of this deception by Lance Diostin and taken measures to guard against it.  Lance Diostin’s adaptation of the age-old ruse had been flawless and Zunrogo, like the many others who preceded him, had been properly duped, lulled into a false sense of security right up to the very end before being totally, and irrevocably vanquished.

There was no time for self-reproach or remorse.  Just as Zunrogo was about to modify his strategy to one of escape at any cost, Lance launched a whirlwind assault that instantly incapacitated him.  He could feel the world going black as he fought to strike back.

Grinning cruelly, Lance Diostin lifted his magnificent sword high above his head, setting up the one powerful, lightning stroke that would slice through Zunrogo's neck like a harpoon through a jellyfish.  He let go of the stroke, the sword arched through the air in firm descending course, backing it up with all his force.

The blade’s course midway was stopped cold however, never reaching Zunrogo's neck as if it had hit a solid rock; furthermore, the shock wave traveled back up the sword and through Lance Diostin’s whole body.

"What the hell?" glowering, Lance Diostin jumped back and turned to assess the opponent still brandishing the sword that had blocked his fierce, deadly aim (blow).

                                                                                           ~

 

 (END OF SECTION 34)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 31

Had Disaidun Agripe known what really was at stake, how many conditions were to be added to the end of his statement, she would have (fled as if her life depended on it) run and kept on running.  Imagining only the best, however, she again thanked him profusely and promised, "Oh, you'll see how appreciative I can be."

01-DISAIDUN AGRIPE JP 23

Then she remembered the other condition and asked. "What was the second thing you wished me to do?"

"Oh, nothing particularly hard.” he smiled.  "You know the situation we face."

 He waited to hear her answer, then gave an entirely different account as to the reasons behind the anticipated, armed assault.

There were just two grains of truth in this fiction (story) he fed her: one, the foe in the pursuing vessel was fast gaining on them and two, the expected engagement would be at noon of the following day as soon as the fog had lifted.

 "Your part in all of this will be is, to guard the entrance to the cabins on the lower decks, when the assault starts.  You will be, of course, positioned behind a strong, impenetrable barricade and though it is highly doubtful that anyone could break through, in the likelihood that they do, it will be your responsibility to intercept (block) them."

"It is then my task to protect the Scholar Norek," she strove to impress Zunrogo but was met with a blank stare.

Disaidun Agripe obviously had no inkling of the scholar's importance or his identity.  "Why do you ask?"  He was curious to find out how she arrived at her notion.

Her answer was expectedly, tritely dull.  "Oh, I’d just overheard Captain Doku whispering something about him to another shipmate.  The rest of their conversation, beyond his name, was incomprehensible, I’m afraid.  I have also noticed how vigilant you and that big fellow Tizan are in guarding him.  I don't wish to pry (meddle), but is Norek's life in danger from these pursuers?"  She still pushed, even though she knew better.

 

"Let’s just say that his work is highly controversial and offensive to some crude individuals, whose ill-breeding overhaul (outstrip) their aesthetic sense." Zunrogo brushed her question away, with a wave of his hand.

Disaidun Agripe did not buy any of this but wisely desisted pursuing the matter. “There will be ample time in future, to understand his reasons for this deception.” She falsely believed.

"Of course, you must be armed.  Are you adept (capable) in handling swords, and also, the crossbow?  Perhaps you may prefer a machete or an axe at close quarters."

"I have been trained in all of them." she boasted.  "I will use whatever you think is best."

"I think the crossbow will be more ideal in stopping those, capable enough to breach the barricade.  You can also utilize a knife, if it’s warranted, in such close quarters."

"And what of the other entrance?" she asked, trying to impress him.

When Zunrogo looked at her sharply she beamed, sure she had one up on him, "The secret passage, behind the bookcase, in Captain's cabin?"

But Zunrogo robbed her of any further satisfaction when he laughed knowingly and nodded, "You are a resourceful girl, aren't you?"

 Meeting his stern gaze, she abashed, cast her eyes down. As Disaidun Agripe indulged herself in the luxury of self-reproach, incensed Zunrogo, made a mental note to have Tizan take care of that crucial detail that had escaped them both.

"You need not worry about that secret passage.  It has long been secured well and proper."  He lied, after his prolonged scrutiny of her.

Her cheeks had flushed crimson (cherry red) under his burning stare but, even though all her senses were alerting her, she chose to believe otherwise.

 

Zunrogo could now afford to be magnanimous.

"Good.", he finally broke his silence. His eyes were unmistakably soft and affectionate, at odds with his cold, forced smile. 

"Then I would say for now, our business is concluded."  Nevertheless, he remained reluctant to dismiss her outright.

His mixed signals made her shift uneasily into her seat.  Disaidun did not wish to go either; furthermore, she hoped that he would ask her to stay.  Her worst fear was that he would reject her.

She watched him rising to his feet, and after fetching the jug on the night table, (which was set aside for him to indulge in just before sleep,) breaking the seal then pouring himself a cupful. It gladdened her heart, when he took the trouble to pour on for her as well, and then quietly (in silence) placed one of the cups on the table in front of her.

His burrowing (investigating) eyes were fixed on her, as they drank their alcoholic brew (beverage, draft) in long prolonged sips, his expression all the while, frustratingly unreadable.

By now Disaidun Agripe was on the brink of letting her passion explode.

Zunrogo looking away, smiled knowingly, and after another sip, simply put his cup down and slightly leaned forward.

"Perhaps we can now talk of more pleasant things." He said softly as his hand reaching forward, his fingers lightly tapped (pat) the top of her hand; Zunrogo’s implied suggestion, stole her breath away.

02- ZUNROGO TUGO JP 5

 Disaidun did not pull her hand away, nor did she reject him when he next took her hand into his and this time, gently squeezed it; instead, she shut her eyes and let the thrilling, warm sensation envelop her (swathe her). She told herself that she had longed for this moment from the instant she had laid eyes on him, that she was a willing participant in whatever he desired and that, whole-heartedly, she also desired him.

 

                                                                                ~

 

When the fervent, immoral interlude was over, Disaidun Agripe beamed in delight, truly believing Zunrogo's affections had come straight from his heart.  She may have suspected otherwise had he tried to steal the letter from her bodice and, had he done so, she was not altogether certain she could have found the strength to refuse him.  Fortunately, he had made no such attempt.

 

Tizan, when he was now escorting her back to her cabin, masking his umbrage, had remained surprisingly civil in his treatment of her. 

 

Of course earlier while she’d slept peacefully in Captain’s bed, Tizan summoned to Zunrogo’s presence, in the next room were summarily briefed about the slight changes in their plan: that furthermore, Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi), had now been temporarily recruited to (abridge, fill-in) secure the gap in their defenses created by Frastos and Briac's absences and, even though her contribution was negligible (insignificant) at best, it was nonetheless necessary.

Tizan had also been (commanded) ordered to say nothing, to run no interference, but to keep her under scrutiny (a watch) as she waved her net of deception over her husband and set the wheels of (destiny) destruction in motion.

 

                                                                                 ~

 

Once the secret entrance from the deceased Captain Doku's quarters had been effectively barricaded from within, Zunrogo quickly climbed above deck to assess the work Tizan had completed. 

He smiled in satisfaction, seeing that all the traps had been properly set in the key positions according to his exact specifications and that the fortifications on deck were all solidly reinforced to encompass the required parameters of stress.

That afternoon, both Zunrogo and Tizan, furthermore, had jointly concluded the last leg of the preparations by erecting below decks the barricade that would be Disaidun Agripe’s (Miss Jepipi's) duty to defend, leaving only one passage that would be sealed later from the inside. 

                                                                                          ~

 

Now that all the necessary preparations were concluded (finished, done) and the vessel had been made completely battle-ready, Zunrogo next went to the mast and, as Doku (had he been alive,) would have done at this point, hoisted the red flag with the single white star enclosed within an equilateral diamond.  Their pursuers would interpret this, as the “all clear” signal that they have been expecting.

As they watched the pennant hanging limp in the mist, Zunrogo took a few moments to update (apprise) Tizan of another revision to his prior plan; that, he intended on apprehending the culprit Lance Diostin alive, but gave no explanation, whatsoever, for the reason for this last-minute amendment.

 The outcome of the battle would determine whether-or-not, Zunrogo could risk taking his Lieutenant Tizan into total confidence; it was still too early for him to expose his actual intentions, should Tizan prove unworthy or, was somehow captured.

03- -TZAN JP

Tizan, of course, sensing that there was more at stake here than met the eye but, at the same time, knowing it would be fruitless to press Zunrogo for answers, remained reticent (taciturn, quiet). Tizan was confident that, even if in future Zunrogo didn’t oblige him with an apt answer, he could still, with his resourcefulness, resolve this mystery.

 

(END OF SECTION 31)

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 15

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 15

Lord Asger had accepted the distinct possibility that Alec and Duan were but the advance guard of a squad of assassins waiting in the wings to launch the final assault. By preventing Alec from contacting his accomplices, Asger could be sealing their own fate. To determine the veracity (accuracy) of Alec’s claims, and perhaps in due course uncover any collaborators, Asger, with a heavy heart, had finally consented to Prince Nevetsecnuac’s departure at the earliest opportunity.

NEVETSECNUAC

“He is a lot tougher and more cunning   than he lets on.”  Asger cautioned Nevetsecnuac, advising him to temper his own impatience, to remain vigilant and to be wise beyond his years. “The truth in due course will come to light.”

Asger had scant hope that the two (Nevetsecnuac and Alec) would join up with Lord Shonne Gulbrand and the amassed armies of General Kundrick Dufo, to realize that long awaited goal of purging the usurper Zakhertan  Yozdek.  What is more, he silently feared that he could be sending Nevetsecnuac into an elaborate trap.

Asger looked away to quickly dismiss these inhibitions, concentrating his thoughts instead on his innate, firm confidence in Nevetsecnuac’s prowess. Clinging on to the belief that his nephew would circumvent all danger, expunge all the villains, and return to them in safety armed with the facts.

Regardless, their security had been breached. Upon Nevetsecnuac’s safe return, they would have to, Asger, Nevetsecnuac , Teuquob and the twins, relocate elsewhere, till such a time as a grand action was warranted.

                                                                     ~

When Alec finally awoke late afternoon, he was allowed to wash up and shared some sustenance with Lord Asger and Svein (Prince Nevetsecnuac). During this modest repast, Alec was offered prompt apologies and a very plausible explanation for his prior incapacitation, which had been seen necessary so as to allow Alec this period to recover.

 Though infuriated (irked), at least he had been spared the indignity of being bound.

 Alec, understanding their reasons therefore, meekly played along with this charade and acceded to all their wishes, as well, of him being indefinitely (incarcerated) confined to the small area within the barn. Subsequently, when it was all said and done, Alec was quietly taken aside and re-introduced to Nevetsecnuac, as the prince he sought to find. Alec on his part, feigning   surprise, had promptly paid his homage to his supposed beloved Prince. Later still, Alec was duly informed of the intended time of their departure, possibly as early as the very next day, and so elated was he that from then on, he’d remained quite contented to let things be. 

Long after they had taken their leave, Alec, unable to resist it, partook some more of the delectable morsels that had been left behind along with a pot of tea, for his at will consumption.

Overcome with sudden fatigue, too late he realized that yet again he had been duped; unable to fight the potent drug’s effects, he was rendered once more utterly dead to the world.

 

                                                                                     ~

 

Teuquob in all this time had been directed (advise) to keep well out of sight of Alec. She had thus far complied with understanding their innate concerns, but on this evening   at dusk, her curiosity overriding any reason, she’d on some pretext getting away, snuck back into the barn. 

Guilt and unease accompanied her hesitant steps as she drew nearer and nearer to the stranger. Besides which, she inwardly asserted, she needed to assuage her fears and perhaps resolve some of those persistent, annoying inner queries, before her husband embarked on this presumably dangerous, at best risky venture. She was curious to know also why,

If Asger did not trust this stranger to have him inside the cabin or at the table, why not then dispose of him and be done with it; why (would Asger) allow her husband to accompany this purported foe on the doubtless, precarious escapade?

 As she cast her gaze on the shadowy, sleeping foe’s form, the reasons suddenly were made clear. She knew then that for them to do otherwise would have been far more hazardous. Inwardly she hoped now that Asger’s confidence in Nevetsecnuac would not be in vain or misplaced.

As she had neared still closer, to place a newly filled washbasin over at the small table by the fire, Alec with his strong survival instincts, detecting a presence had at once regained consciousness. He did not let on however, and despite his groggy, dazed state, still managed to discreetly observe her. Before, during the fierce combat, he hardly had the time to note, to scrutinize her features, let alone register her exceptional beauty. Then she had been an object, a key opportunity targeted for sole destruction. But now at this proximity as if seeing her for the first time, he was taken aback and got quite incensed by the existence of such an incredible, indescribable magnificence in this remote dwelling, matchless in grace and most bewitching in allure, presumably a companion, or a mate to the prince.  The prince certainly lacks for nothing! Such a cozy arrangement! No wonder they have me persistently drugged and incapacitated! Alec gnashed his teeth.

Soon however, once again the sleep had claimed him.

                                                                         ~

The morning   of the departure Nevetsecnuac awoke with a start after a restless sleep and straight away noted his wife’s moist and puffy eyes, despite her attempt to hide her face from his view.

"What's wrong?"  Nevetsecnuac sat up, concerned, "Have you been crying?"  Turning   away, she was about to spring out of bed, when he tugged at her sleeve to hold her back. "Oh, you mustn't worry about my leaving, my love. There really is no danger involved in this undertaking.” he then embracing her whispered reassuringly into her ear, guessing at her concern. "Our parting will be so brief you won't even have the chance to miss me."  He did not dare tell her more. Then accordingly, in an excited voice spoke of his duty and obligation to not only the living but those long dead. Then, for Teuquob's sake, he spoke of their hopeful future and his triumphant return to her and their son and daughter, how they would then live out their lives under better circumstances, in relative safety, in contentment and joy until their hairs turned gray, with justice, peace and prosperity restored to the land.  "You must look ahead and rejoice in that future happiness not shed tears. Unless, that is, you doubt my ability.” he gently admonished her.

"It's not that.” her lips quivered, and she once again turned her face away to evade his questioning eyes. Though she tried to resist, her heart was breaking so much that, in defiance, few tears fell, coursing (trickling) down her cheeks.

Nevetsecnuac again gently took Teuquob in his embrace and touched his lips to her tears. "Won’t you give me a big, bright smile?” softly, in a broken voice he implored her. "I want to go away remembering you such."

Concern for him gave her the will to stop. She wiped away the tears then, forcing a smile to her lips. Then in a whisper, stammered, "Please love, keep yourself safe and send for us with due speed. Lord Asger and I will not rest easily until we receive words from you."

"You left out the twins; they won’t miss me I suppose.” Nevetsecnuac jested with an exaggerated pout.

"Oh! You can be so exasperating sometimes!"  Teuquob mockingly punched his shoulder. The fiery radiance in her eyes melted his heart when she next raised her flashed face to look into his eyes. 

"Why must you tease me in this way?"  Teuquob pursing her lips turned her head away, then just as quickly, swiveled back with such a loving gaze that “Nevetsecnuac’s chest heaved with the intense emotion surging up within him. Laughing, he tenderly embraced his wife anew and showered her face with kisses. 

A gentle knock on the door just then interrupted this tender moment announcing Asger’s presence; somewhat reluctantly Nevetsecnuac got off the bed and greeted his uncle who simply said:

"Alec, in his eagerness, has already packed and is even now readying his steed for the journey. When you are dressed, I wish to have a private word with you in my room, please."

When Nevetsecnuac next saw Asger, his uncle was fully clad in white ceremonial garb and was in the act of pouring pure, chilly water from the melted snow over the swords. After the ablution, which drove out all evil influences from the forged steel, Asger held the twin swords high over his head, their blade catching the morning   light that streamed in from the window and said a votary (invocation) to the ancestors within. Once again reunited with the swords through this ceremony, Asger then held it out one of them, hilt first, to Nevetsecnuac.

To Asger the ancestor swords were objects of profound veneration. Forged at his birth amid many rites of purification and prayers to his ancestors, the pair had hung above his bed until his rite of passage into maturity and then had been given to him to learn their use.  It was believed by Asger, and by his ancestors, that such a pair of swords carried the mental, physical, and spiritual powers of their owner and his family.  Hence, on termination of Asger's life, he expected the right to be buried with them at his side.

Understanding the deep significance of such a gift, or rather a loan, Nevetsecnuac knelt to receive one of the ancestor swords of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  When the sword passed into his hands Nevetsecnuac, with deep reverence, touched the base of the blade to his forehead and vowed to use it only in the cause of justice, righteousness, and mercy.

"I, Prince Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir, son of Prince Shon Alric Therran Valamir, and grandson of His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, hereby promise to avenge the wrongful deaths perpetrated by Zakhertan  Yozdek and his followers.  I further vow to restore order and peace to this land. These vows fulfilled, I shall return to your presence, Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, to pay my respects and entrust this sword once more into your keeping."

Asger smiled in approval and uttered encouraging words to the prince, ending with, "May Heaven assists you in your fateful task, my Prince, and may the sword vanquish all enemies in your path."

After Nevetsecnuac’s farewells to his wife and his loving children he exchanged a few more private words with his uncle, at the end of which Asger patted his shoulder affectionately and said, “Rest assured, my Prince, all will be well here. I give you my solemn word that I shall take diligent care of Teuquob, Alric and Lueling. I will shield them from the least harm and safeguard them with my life. All I ask is that you return to us safely (safe and sound).  Now at the risk of being redundant, remember that once you leave here you must concentrate your thoughts only on the task at hand and nothing else. "

 

At the moment of their final parting, despite her promise to herself that she would be strong, Teuquob’s defiant tears had come perilously close to gushing out and so she bit her lip and lowered her head, missing Nevetsecnuac’s one last look back.

 A sudden cry from one of the twins inside the cabin just then beckoned Teuquob. Lord Asger stance however did not change one iota as he, with a somber face, continued to gaze after Nevetsecnuac leading Fiery Comet down the steep path slightly ahead of Alec and his mount. 

Abruptly the air at that moment grew much colder, the strong rising winds that had just then herded dark clouds over the blue fields of the sky, turning day into night; icy chill presently pierced Asger to the marrow, causing an involuntary shiver to pass through him. Dancing flakes of white snow sprinkled his garments, turning   them silvery white with random sequins. Refusing to go inside he stood woodenly, staring at Nevetsecnuac’s diminishing figure until they had entirely passed from his view.

 

                                                                              ~

(END OF SECTION 15)

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 3

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS- SECTION 3

Brandt   had never seen Duan use archery, yet in subsequent days, he’d witnessed the other using spare material to painstakingly fashion himself a mighty fine bow and a quiver of arrows. 

Brandt ’s curiosity and poised questions were finally answered when at dusk one day, Duan, still seated at his mount took aim at the sky and let loose the single arrow.  Brandt   could not even see the target or what it slew (shot, slain, felled). 

“So, he also excels in archery...Hmmm” Brandt   made a mental note of this and spurred his horse to catch up with Duan’s. 

Arriving at the spot tad later, Brandt   saw Duan pick up the felled falcon and retract a piece of note attached to his leg. No amount of pestering loosened Duan’s tongue however, nor did he let Brandt   see the note. He only smirked satisfactorily and informed Brandt   a short time later of the slight change in their direction.

Passing through a grueling and treacherous stretch, now at more level ground, Brandt   likewise whipped his horse into a full gallop.  The result of three full days and nights of riding at lightning   speed eventually brought them to a crossroads.

 Duan stretched his neck this way and that, holding his gaze in each direction at length and then charged resolutely westward. As Brandt   followed in silence, he queried how Duan had arrived at (attained) that conclusion with such obvious certainty.  He racked his brains to comprehend the existing clues or logic that had so mysteriously averted him.  Having reached the end of his patience with Duan's arrogance however, he cared not to place himself in the position of subservience and voiced no such inquiry.  But, once more an insidious smile related Duan’s surmised notion of what was weighing on Brandt’s mind.

 Subsequent days their path cut across still more difficult terrain; before long the deep canyon, the surrounding topography had taken on a rather sinister turn. At one point, as they passed through a particularly deep gorge, Duan’s unexpectedly alert demeanor alarmed Brandt. 

Duan now strung tighter than a bow, with his very being exuding such an air of foreboding, his intense gaze perpetually swept the looming cliffs.  Brandt’s inward queries were promptly answered however, when on several instances on Duan’s signal and nimble action, man and mount barely escaped that certain catastrophe of being buried alive, when massive amounts of dislodged rocks suddenly cascaded down on them. 

Long after, when they seemingly reached a safer passage, Duan had kept up with his vigil and pressed them hard to advance with that speed to cover still great distance.

“This isn’t your typical joyride.” He’d scoffed at Brandt’s silent protests and despite Brandt’s obvious exhaustion, refused least notion of pitching camp.  On this continuous trek they, while still in the saddle ingested some of their rather unpalatable, scant dried rations and rarely out of consideration for their mounts, had a brief repose in a crevice of sorts in this desolate (bleak) region where nothing stirred, with Duan upholding his vigilance against that phantom enemy’s assault.

Brandt   was becoming more incensed (exasperated) with each leg of the journey suspecting Duan with his spiteful nature to be conceiving (inventing) this unwarranted trouble, to further torment him, when suddenly they were under attack. 

Once the unnatural dust storm settled, all at once they’d found themselves surrounded by thirty well-armed, formidable riders completely covered in black garb, with only slits that made their eyes visible.  Brandt   had scant time to unsheathe his sword when the awesome, agile force spontaneously and in all directions, in a brilliant, lightening   maneuver, launched their murderous offensives (assault). 

Brandt   had always been quite adept at fighting but in this instance, he’d soon found himself outmatched in both skill and ability. Or had he?  For reasons known only to him, Brandt   held back and allowed Duan to demonstrate the true extent of his prowess. 

Rising to this challenge Duan with his invincible skill, quickly turned the tide in his favor. In a blinking of an eye, all assailants were vanquished, and men and mounts lay dead maimed and torn in bloody heaps.

The fortnight’s subsequent nocturnal assaults were even more lethal. Just as swiftly however, Duan bested them all; then in small hours, gathering the wounded and piling those atop the heap of torn, bloody corpses, he set them all alight. Making himself comfortable on a large flat bolder, he then watched this funeral pyre with intense perverse delight, occasionally letting out a boisterous laugh as if entertaining a private joke.

The rising smell made Brandt   retch and vomit till he was expanded from the exertion; maddeningly, this too compounded Duan’s wicked fun.

After the fourth and fifth major, deadly skirmishes, Brandt   had gained the sudden intense fear of Duan, as if just grasping the true measure of this Demon warrior’s proficiency.  Especially since all their previous adventures and exchanges had paled in comparison to these feats.  Despite his sham indifference however, the swift, shocking intensity and the near misses of the final mortal combat unequivocally rattled Brandt   to the core. Consequently, Duan was more intolerable, as he relentlessly mocked Brandt   with his contemptuous words, looks and gestures, till eventually he got tired of it. 

A few weeks later, another falcon was felled by Duan, then another sometime after that. In each instance a note was retrieved from the leg of the predatory bird, and again, Duan refused to disclose the contents to Brandt.  Infuriatingly still, any hope of a peek (stealing a look) was promptly eliminated when Duan routinely fed the contents to the hungry flames of the night’s makeshift campfire.

Then one evening   as they were about to fall asleep, “You can rest easy now; I doubt there’ll be any more messages.”  With his back to Brandt, he’d grumbled his sardonic, curt response to other’s evermore persistent inward queries.

In the subsequent month, the ongoing arduous trek had eventually led the two to another set of foothills beyond which lay a range of white capped mountains.  Descending then ascending the endless precipitous peaks and depths, they skirted ravines, gullies or cliffs, then negotiated inclines to eventually arrive at the remotest, darkest and most sinister of forests where ancient trees entirely blocked out the sky turning   night into day.

 In this twilight atmosphere they followed paths that no man before them had dared to tread.  All the while the immeasurable peril dogged their every step. Dangers abound from above and below, ahead and beyond, their mettle was tested, at times without cessation for weeks on end.  With their innate competence and stubborn resolve, they overcame each one of these hair-raising episodes and dealt effectively with the other peril from voracious, predatory beasts.

Occasionally their advance would be hindered by violent storms that erupted quite suddenly yet lasted for days.  During such times they attained shelter in nearby caves, crevices or caverns after contesting for space with the prior occupants (original inhabitants).

As they climbed (ascended) to still higher altitudes, with each leg of the journey the atmospheric temperatures became more hazardous.  With the overhead sky perpetually riddled with dark, ominous clouds that hung ponderously overhead, they trod uneasily over the precarious ground that oftentimes would be littered with intermittent pits blanketed with patches of ice or snow of varying degrees smoothing over the imperfections.

 All was not doom and gloom however, and on scant clear days, with the surrounding area and tall trees cloaked in exhilarating, blinding white, it admittedly transformed the glistening   environs into a mythological, fabled place of great beauty. The brilliance of light was so intense in fact that they advanced through this fabulous ice hinterland with only partially covered eyes, seeing only through slits.

The makeshift attire from pelts obtained from the hunted predatory beasts kept the core of their body warm. Meanwhile, (in addition to melted ice,) they drunk the blood of the game for satiating (quenching) thirst, and for sustenance, never lacking for food, Brandt   in time even grew accustomed to chomping on raw meat, or for variety, nibbled on some of the amassed, dried roots. When hiking over a particularly perilous icy terrain, man and beast (steeds) wore underfoot an ingenious contraption that Duan had appropriately devised to prevent slipping and sliding or worse, falling through the cracks/ pits in the snow and being buried alive.  Moreover, to ensure further stability, they made good use of ropes and iron pegs when their ascending path led them to tapered goat-trails hugging the sheer inclines. 

To Duan’s surprise, Brandt   had born all these hardships stoically, except for altitude sickness that is, that oftentimes plagued Brandt   when crossing a precarious, natural viaduct (overpass) over gargantuan (vast) debts or other such risky terrain with equally dizzying gradient (incline) to one side. 

On such instances Brandt   would have gladly traded places with their blindfolded mounts, to be spared the apprehension and the dire imaginings; especially since his discomfort without fail was augmented by Duan’s derisive, contemptuous remarks or his silent cold regard. 

Day after day, as though pulled by a magnet, they pushed (trudged) on relentlessly and unfailingly at top speed, superseding (overriding) countless dangers and hardships, Brandt   doing his best to keep up with Duan. 

Though they’d done what was humanly impossible and covered such a great distance in that short time, far from being pleased, at one point Duan had appeared in fact, quite irritable and somewhat dismayed.  Then one day, leaving Brandt   at a makeshift camp in an abandoned cave, Duan without so much as a word had set off alone on foot in search of a phantom path. He must have ventured far, for he’d remained hidden from sight (view) awfully long period.

 Brandt   left to fend for himself, first had prudently solidified his defenses, kept the fires going and guarded the steeds and their reserves best as he could, from the marauding, (prowling) ravenous beasts. By the fourth or fifth day, however, Brandt   had begun to get seriously peeved, for having been treated same as a groom when, late one afternoon, Duan quite unexpectedly had reappeared.  Without so much as a grunt, he plumped himself by the fire, partook of some of the skewered meat, then reclining   passed out in sound sleep. When at just before dawn he promptly awoke, he spared no effort to explain; only his words tersely directed Brandt   to follow him.

Even before the first rays of light reached the earth, Duan and Brandt   taking the lead, steered their reluctant mounts further into the densest part of the pine forest.  Previous night’s storm (blizzard) had dumped abundant snow in the vicinity forcing them to now advance with immense difficulty through the copiously covered ground and shrubbery.

They rode whenever possible, but oftentimes dismounting, they dug their way through waist deep rough patches. Their several days’ laborious advance eventually came to an abrupt halt one afternoon just before dusk, when they suddenly faced, what seemed to Brandt, a rising cliff. He watched with skepticism as Duan, veering around a huge boulder quickly alighted. A pointed look quickly brought Brandt   to his side. Stalwart duo exerting some effort in next to no time cleared a fallen tree and similar debris, pushed aside tall, seemingly impenetrable ice capped dense shrubbery to uncover an inconceivable niche that turned out to be an entrance to a pitch-dark subterranean tunnel that passed through to the other side of the mountain.

Brandt’s elation was short lived however, for the upcoming perilous journey was far more harrowing than the culminating previous encounters.  Right at the beginning   Duan had counseled him on the necessity of maintaining absolute silence.

The horses’ eyes covered, and mouths muzzled, with Duan in the lead they’d steadfastly advanced in darkness, connected by a rope, Duan periodically (now and again) slashing the air with his blade to dispatch the persistent dangers. 

They must have trudged incessantly for days in that grueling, subterranean labyrinth, for every tendon, every fabric of Brandt’s body throbbed with an unbearable ache.  After what it seemed to Brandt an eternity, they’d eventually emerged from this nightmarish tunnel.  Brandt   was so overjoyed at having survived this terrible ordeal that, braving Duan’s derision, he’d simply throw himself onto the ground and hugged it.

The rest of the journey, though still grueling, by comparison had passed far easier.

 

                                                                      ~

 

(END OF SECTION 3)