LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 31

On the appointed day at cockcrow the quiet city streets were rocked by the marching of armed guards, some decked out in full armor as though going into battle, and the rumbling, creaking crunch of the heavy iron mobile cage, hauled by two sturdy workhorses.  Heading up this procession was the mounted Hecun.

01- PRIONER TRANSPORT IN IRON CAGE

 The few vendors who opened up shop early rubbed their sleepy eyes and complained then craned their necks and sharpened their stares with interest when they awakened to the procession's significance.

 The barking of a stray dog accompanied the guards until a cast-off broom whisk landed on its muzzle and sent the beast scurrying off with sharp yelps.

 Leaving the gates of Denor City and the stir they had created behind, the long train forked off from the major highway and continued its snaking route through the undulating hills and valleys surrounding the city.  Hecun drove his men relentlessly, hastening them towards their destination, fearful that the prisoner would not survive a long ordeal.

The summer season was almost at an end and the gusts of easterly winds often arose out of nowhere to thrash the faces of the horsemen as the mounting, dark clouds sailed on continuously like an endless armada of war across the gloomy sky, driving the sun away into hibernation.

For the next two days the torrential rains soaked them to the bone as the uneven, slippery mud paths compounded the difficulties of this already arduous journey.  Any idea Hecun had of a swift advance was soon discarded.  The flat lands were turned into seascapes and in the bare hills the greatest danger was from sudden mud slides, which could bring half the hillside down onto the road in seconds.  Hecun's party apprehensively passed through this dangerous zone, too, until the rain tapered off to a light drizzle.

Looking out across the long, sodden grasses that flanked their path laid low by the weight of the water on their leaves then turning his gaze skyward to the menacing, mounting clouds roiling in the gray sky, threatening to begin the deluge anew, the Head Bailiff Hecun sighed repeatedly.

“This is possibly the worst season to undertake this journey,” He grumbled. “Heat on one hand, torrential rains on the other.” 

His dismal thoughts turned to the prisoner, locked up in the cage, it only opened a small hole in the upper left side which allowed food and water to be dropped in.  Shrugging his shoulders dispassionately, he mused, “He's the only one shielded from this blasted rain, but at what cost?  Confined in that restrictive, suffocating space, rotting in his piss and excrement…  Thankfully, I’m not that wretch.”

He stretched his limbs in appreciation. “That stupid Temple…  That trespassing charge is unwarranted after all this time.  Why not petition His Royal Highness to have that unjust law rescinded or amended?  Or just has the cursed place leveled or scorched to the ground so that it can't entrap or injure anyone else?  How many more lives will be wasted needlessly because of it?”

Hecun inhaled deep. At least the rain had finally stopped. As he rode on, his thoughts once more reverted to prior concern.

“How many times have I sounded out my reasoning to the Prefect… time after time without success?  He just turned a deaf ear to me.  It's all too convenient for him, isn't it, to keep things just the way they are?  After all, if he were to heed my suggestion, he would be hard pressed to fabricate another trap to rid himself of his enemies or other unwanted pests so conveniently.  I was a fool to even waste my breath.  Things never change.  It’s the same everywhere.  I really should try to mend my ways and still my tongue; I should be more like Mouro, so as to avert future disasters. Would it work if I utilized akin underhanded means as Mouro? I wonder though, how many more innocent souls like this scholar will be ensnared in future; how can I idly stand by and do nothing about it? Would my conscience (ethics) let me? “

But then Head Bailiff Hecun suddenly became aware of disturbance at the rear of the column.  Wheeling his horse round, he shouted, "What's all the commotion about back there?  And why aren’t you moving?"

"Look, sir.  Look!"  One of the panic-stricken guards pointed left to the menacing, fearsome mounted warrior figure at the hilltop.

Turning his head, Hecun looked up at the indicated spot.  His soul nearly took flight.  This was the sight he most dreaded seeing.  Mounted atop a black coal horse, standing like a crown on the crest of the hill, was the majestic, formidable figure of Zonar!

Swallowing his fright, Hecun dispensed the orders at once for the men to surround the prisoner's cage, draw their swords in readiness of a strike, and make haste to the more defensible ground to the right.

"Remember men, despite his formidable appearance, he's only flesh and blood.  He can be bested, just like any other mortal man." Hecun shouted his encouragement along the way.

"He's also pitted against two hundred of us.  We'll make him taste a bitter defeat if he dares to attack us.  We'll show him what we're made of!"

These men (guards) were all hand-picked by Hecun and Mouro to ensure the success of this assignment.  All were seasoned warriors, capable of either mounting a strong, sustained attack or fighting a pitched defense with equal ease.

02-  ZONAR

Irrespective of this, however, the foe facing them now looked so menacing, struck such awe into their hearts that, as they assumed their defensive positions and waited for the dreaded confrontation, many once proud warriors entertained thoughts of dropping their arms and fleeing (running off) to safety, but all knew that at the first sign of desertion they would be cut down by Hecun or by one of their own comrades.  Even if they succeeded in their cowardly flight, they would be wanted men forever forsaking their homes and host of loved ones, the parents, wives, brothers, sisters and children who depended on them.

“What's he waiting for?” Hecun nervously tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword when the anticipated rush of the assassin still did not come.

“What’s his game?  Is he waiting for night to fall?  It may well be his tactic to wage war on our nerves first.  It would therefore be to our advantage to combat him now, while the morale of the men is still high.”  With this in mind Hecun, loudly reviled Zonar from his safe distance, challenging him, trying to draw him into a fight; meanwhile, emboldened by Zonar's lack of response, his men also joined in with added verbal abuse and taunts.

 “What, still no response?”  Though he had been tempted, Hecun knew enough not to divide his force and initiate the offensive when the opponent held the high ground. Instead, Hecun quickly dispatched four of his archers, armored with overlapping plates of laminated bronze which gave maximum protection and freedom of movement, to (in roundabout way) get closer to Zonar and let loose a volley.

The remaining men watched in horror as, the arrows loosed straight at his chest, Zonar swept his hand in front of him with lightning speed, caught the arrows and, using no bow, launched them back full force through the armor and into the hearts of the hapless archers.  As his black steed reared up, Zonar let loose an earth-shaking, ear-splitting laughter.  This made the hair on the back of all the guards’ necks stand up as their blood simultaneously froze in their veins.

The next moment, in an unexpected move, however, Zonar had wheeled his horse round and in the blink of an eye disappeared from view.

Far from being relieved, every man in the command had realized in that instant that they would not stand a prayer of a chance in any direct encounter with this demon.  And that they were, for the time being safe, so long as Zonar was only toying with them.

In the following days and nights, the guards kept up with their constant vigilance (did not dare drop their guard for one second) and in securing the prisoner; consequently, they were robbed of least respite and peace of mind.  On (perpetual) assiduous alert, every guard with taut nerves constantly panned the surrounding hills, the vast fields and valleys with fear filled eyes, anticipating and dreading the imminent mortal encounter with Zonar.

A few of the more disgruntled were in the process of conspiring to mutiny, to murder Hecun and turn the prisoner over without the least resistance, when Zonar again suddenly (appeared) manifested but after a spell, just as quickly disappeared. 

 

                                                                                      ~

 

As Hecun's guards had remained on high alert pending a surprising dire onslaught from Zonar, Micen Do back in the comfort of his study, had just settled down to, forsaking the tea, enjoying some delectable salty tidbits on the tray. His mind totally at ease, Micen remained quite certain that he had, with his brilliant ploy, outmaneuvered the grizzly-haired demon.

 It was the middle of the afternoon on an unusually hot day and Micen, now feeling parched, just put aside a document he had been studying, looked up and was about to send for some cool refreshments when, “What the devil?”

 In a chair at the far corner of the room, casually seated and reading from an ancient scroll, sat Zonar; this sight instantly, therefore, froze the subsequent words on Micen's tongue.

Though Micen was mesmerized by fright at first, the casual, indifferent attitude of the assassin, completely immersed in the ancient literature, put the Prefect somewhat termporarily at ease.  He was not reconciled to dying and eyed the door, contemplating which course would be faster, calling for help from the five guards posted outside or making a dash for the door.

03- ZONAR KUNTZU

Micen’s blood turned to ice in his veins when just then Zonar looked up, and their eyes met.  Next instant, before Mucen could utter a single sound, he was cleaved clean through from top to bottom… For Zonar's gleaming sword had cut him into two perfect halves.

As Micen's right half watched with its waning eye, the left side collapsed onto the desk, dispersing a pile of documents.  Zonar instantly recognized Fradel Rurik Korvald's actual identity papers and summons, fallen three-quarters of the way out of a parchment envelope and, reaching for it, disappeared in the last beat of Micen's heart.

The secretary, coming into the room minutes later with some documents, made the grisly discovery and so alerted the household.  The news of Micen's assassination spread like wildfire throughout Denor City and the entire prefecture and all citizens rushed indoors, apprehensive about their own mortality.

 

                                                                                    ~

 

After an arduous, apprehensive trek, Hecun and his guard regiment at long last escorted the prisoner to the border crossing at Danlo Pass.  The disgruntled, weary group finally relaxed their vigil only after they had confirmed, from the border guards, that no person matching Zonar's name or description had preceded them across the border.  Accordingly, they relayed their warnings to the border patrol to be on the alert for such dangerous assassin, and to arrest or apprehend him on sight, if they were capable of doing so.

"You're the second group in five days that has made in depth inquiries after such a person." the border guards professed, scratching their heads.  "However, the others said nothing about him being a wanted criminal."

When Hecun ascertained that they were referring to Mouro's group, he was concurrently, both pleased and offended. He spoke thoughtfully to the sergeant Tubak that was riding alongside him. “It's not like Mouro to be so remiss.  Other, more serious concerns must have preoccupied his mind though, for the life of me, I cannot imagine what they could be.  He never disclosed to me the nature of his urgent task, not really.  But it’s just like him to be this evasive.  Now I think of it, those last two or three days he'd seemed rather more irritable than usual.”

Hecun had abruptly fallen silent at this moment, as he inwardly mused: “True, we've been good friends for a long time now, and I am fond of him.  Still, I cannot boast that I’ve fully understood him.  I know no more about him now than I did when I first met him.  When he was in such desperate straits I did set him on the straight course, welcomed him to my home, and even helped him get that job.  I remember how I watched in amazement as he, always an apt student, fully subdued all opposition and managed to ingratiate himself in the good graces of the Governor and Micen.  He even managed to pull off something I've never been able to do and curry favor with that stand-offish, condescending Luko clan.”

With a twinge of jealousy in his heart, Hecun now disdainfully further recalled how Mouro's ambitious undertakings had paid off.  Within a year's time Mouro, despite his youth and considerable inexperience, had taken advantage of his superior martial abilities, if one believed the official explanation, to bypass Hecun and win the promotion meant for (the Head Bailiff) him.

Annoyed only at first, Hecun, nevertheless, soon realized that it would be more to his advantage to remain on good terms with his new superior, than to become his adversary.

Besides, Hecun had found it awfully hard to refute Mouro's congenial qualities and his gracious side.  He certainly could not deny that Mouro had also reciprocated his previous kindness in full, and countless times had bailed him out of trouble with Micen. 

Mouro had also filled another desperate void in Hecun's life by fitting snugly into the shoes of the bailiff's deceased younger brother.  Hecun now recalled fondly also how, when they were alone, Mouro had respected and treated Hecun as the elder brother, but the closeness had remained chiefly one-sided. Not being the type to bear his soul to anyone, Mouro had constantly guarded his privacy and history even from him (Hecun), letting it be known only that he was born a native of Tenzo Province.

"Five days, eh, this is good."  Hecun, well across the border, was in better spirits and gloated to his subordinate (sergeant) Tubak.  "Why, that means that, despite all the setbacks we've suffered, we've still made pretty good time, especially considering that they're riding swift horses on a straight highway, and I'm pretty certain that they encountered no bandits like we did, or that assassin, Zonar.  Mouro would not have missed a chance to boast of it to those border guards."

"Yes, sir…  We were rather fortunate that he chose not to engage us after that first sortie.  Even so," the sergeant dismally hung his head, "the threat of confronting him again was still enough to drive many good men to contemplating desertion... pity."

"Are you blatantly aligning your sympathies with those cowards?  Their desertion seriously undermined our capacity to confront that gangster Lurin and his lawless bunch!" Hecun stormed.  "Perhaps it was your intention to desert as well?"

04- SERGEANT TUBAK

"Sir ...  I'd never ever considered such a thing!" the sergeant contested vehemently.  "Forgive my audacity for speaking as I did just then.  My thoughts were of Yozder, he was ordinarily a good sort.  Not too long ago he lost his wife in a tragedy.  Now his five young children, the oldest is only nine, are left without any means of support, and only Yozder's invalid aunt to care for them.  I could not help grieving for what will become of them now."  He hung his head, but his sidelong glance at Hecun framed his unspoken question, couldn’t you have, just this once, bent the rules just a little?  Why did they all have to perish?

Hecun fumed, "I'm not such a heartless man as you make me out to be, sergeant, but rules are rules.  The deserters knew full well what they were getting themselves into.  They got nothing more nor less than, what they deserved.”

“Remember, because of them we were all put at risk.  How can I expect strict obedience in the future from the rest if I showed leniency or, worse, made an exception?  Regulations in militia must be strictly adhered to, so that men can feel secure.  Your grievance against me is totally unfounded, sergeant, and I counsel you to think hard before airing your thoughts to me again."  After this rebuke, Hecun angrily spurred his horse toward the iron cage, ignoring his subordinate's gobbed (spat, expelled) apologies.

“That's more than I can say for this poor wretch.  Despite his innocence, he's been ensnared in an unjust law and is now being made to suffer for it.” Hecun grumbled to himself.

 His thoughts then turned to more immediate concerns, “Why hadn’t Zonar struck and vanquished them when he had them at his mercy?  Why had those bandits attacked just after they were through Danlo Pass?”

Hecun recalled presently what he had heard distinctly some of the gang members had said, as they attempted to seize (snatch) the iron cage.

 “But what on earth made them think that we were carrying gold in the cage, instead of a criminal?”

 

Now that they were inside Tenzo Province the general consensus was that the worst had been left behind them, nevertheless Hecun opted for caution and closely followed the course Mouro had charted out for him.

Their subsequent laborious advance took them through difficult terrain, over uneven paths that were often carpeted in vegetation that had withered in the dry heat and choked with debris blown in by the driving gusts of wind.  Beneath their concealment lay a multitude of dangers for horses and riders alike.

Rounding yet another sharp turn, Hecun shielded his eyes and gazed questioningly over the sharp precipice that loomed just ahead.  To his dismay the distant canyon, shrouded in twilight, disclosed no signs of human habitation.

“Was it conceivable that Mouro had miscalculated the details of the supposed settlement nestled in this valley's forest? Their water rations had been getting dangerously low in this high, arid region and there was no reprieve in sight. “Hecun, grimly hence, anticipated even more desertions among his disgruntled guards.

Taking out Mouro's map, he studied it once more.  A small mark indicated the ruins of a monastery close by.

 “Hmm…If there are wells, there will certainly be water there. “

 Hope sprung up anew in Hecun's heart.  Since dusk was fast approaching, Hecun resolved to set up camp at the monastery and so dispatched scouts in three directions to locate it.

    

                                                                                  ~

 

(END OF SECTION 31)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 14

After Magistrate Yakove Zewe’s departure, Judicial Commissioner Birgergu Gunt had ridden his closed carriage at breakneck speed to the residence of his good friend the Provincial Governor Rexi, in order to submit a report.  On his arrival, however, he was informed that the Governor was away on a short pleasure trip and was expected to return in a fortnight.  After leaving a message with Rexi's trusted aide, Birgergu returned home not in the least bit ruffled by the distant smoke and the glow of the fire on the horizon; subsequently, he entered his study in order to manage some pertinent neglected matters. First, removing a specific document from his locked cabinet, he placed it under the lamplight and perused it carefully searching for key correlations (crucial parallels, any links) or discrepancies between its account of facts and the detailed report of the Magistrate’s.

All was in accord, save for one: the glowing description of the stranger's horse remarkably resembled Yakove's account of Fradel Rurik Korvald's mount.

 It could very well be a coincidence. This gave Birgergu no concern as, shrugging his shoulders slightly; he put the reports aside and picked up another document from the pile for examination. Despite his outward calm, however, he was inwardly fuming over the failure of the bandit's attack on Fradel, which now complicated matters greatly.  He frowned, thinking of the berating he would get from the hot-tempered Governor, and then his thoughts reverted to Fradel's letter.  Dropping everything, he rang for his trusted steward and verbally relayed his wishes to him.

That night a cloaked figure quietly stole through the darkened alleyways to rendezvous with another whom, scaling the city wall with a cat's agility, vaulted onto a waiting horse and galloped into the hills.

At dawn the next day Birgergu's trusted aide handed him a packet.  After examining the contents in his study, Birgergu donned (gave) a wry smile and cast both the letter and its wrapping into the fire.  A short time later the aide returned with an urgent message from the Governor and Birgergu made haste to respond to the summons.

 

                                                                                  ~

 

"I don't want to know anything about it!" the Governor Rexi raged at Birgergu with icy finality.  "Just get it done!"

"It has already been taken care of, Your Excellency." Birgergu assured him.

"Then why do you bother me with this?"  Rexi shoved (thrust) the report in Birgergu's face. 

"I have no time for such trifles.  You are dismissed."  Before the Commissioner of Justice could even respond Rexi turned his back on him and stormed out of the anteroom.

 "I'm surrounded by incompetents.” His voice trailed off as he began to muse: 

How can I ever gain favor with His Excellency (Eunuch) Egil Viggoaries when a simple matter like this cannot even be resolved.  That idiot Birgergu assured me of Fradel Rurik Korvald's demise; that he would disappear without a trace.  He's as incompetent as that doltish brother-in-law of his.  They've both managed to botch things up oh, so perfectly!  I should have taken the matter into my own hands from the outset, instead of relying on that idiot.

His steps had led him into his private chambers.  Entering in a huff, he sank his heavy frame down on the couch.  Seeing his foul mood, the servants all kept their distance, all but hiding in the corners.

03- PROVINCIAL GOVERNOR REXI

Seething in anger, Rexi reflected on the origins of the Eunuch's orders, the ongoing struggle between Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and the Minister of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries, as each vied (contended) for significant clout (portion of power) at Imperial Court.  Viggoaries's latest attempt to undermine Lamont's inroads with the emperor’s favorite concubine, Lady Sejon, had led to the confidential word sent to him to oversee the Eunuch's interest in the matter of the Lady's favorite poet, Fradel Rurik Korvald.

 Rexi still remembered his delight at accepting the task and his assurances of prompt, favorable results.  Angrily he stamped his foot to purge his mind of the ugly, stubborn trepidation (foreboding) of the possibility of dud (failure), but the persistent, gnawing doubt and the consequences of a repetition of Birgergu's inability (incompetence) to set right what, by now, had gone so terribly wrong, so terrified him that all the blood drained from his face.  A cold shiver ran down Rexi’s spine, as his mind viciously fixed on the notorious reputation of Egil Viggories’s brutish intolerance of the least flop (failure). Springing to his feet, his brows stubbornly knit together, he paced the floor in agitation.

"What is it, darling?" the bewitching beauty but half his age mewed.  Her eyes still puffed from sleep; she had parted the bed curtains alluringly.  Though it was nearly noon, she yawned and stretched, settling back into sleep.

How beautiful she is!  This enchanting siren was a recent acquisition from his previous excursion.  Recalling the pleasures of last night, a smile grew on Rexi's lips, and the color returned hotly to his cheeks.  Going over, he gently sat at the edge of the bed.  Her sweet perfume assailed his nose, intoxicating his senses and enticing him to fondle her cheek once more.

"Oh, let me sleep!" she purred.  "I'm tired.  You wouldn't let me nap at all last night."

Grinning mischievously, he followed her under the covers as all his previous concerns and fury dissipated in her scent.

                                                                                       ~

At cockcrow that morning, as Birgergu received Fradel's letter, Magistrate Yakove and a few of his close associates had raised parting toasts to the scholar and had escorted him to the city gates.  Despite his protests, Fradel had been constrained to accept the protection of a squad of fifteen stout, well-armed bodyguards under the leadership of a lieutenant Zujor.  They were to deliver Fradel safely to the borders of the province.

With the walls of the great city long since lost in the distance, the party of seventeen traveled the lugubrious road at a canter for half a day, each cocooned in their thoughts.

 The uninspiring, desolate ground they traversed was but occasionally dotted with naked hillocks and the monotony left them riding in the miasma of a dream.

Fradel's reverie meandered to thoughts of his blood brother, Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir, and a troubled expression crossed his face.  To purge his heart of this longing and regret, he turned his gaze to the limitless sky, not heeding the refreshing wind that caressed his exposed neck.  He watched with misty eyes the white, billowing clouds as they converged, then parted, and then sailed (wisped) away across the sky.  When he lowered his gaze and looked ahead, he saw a small, scrub-covered knoll in their path, a precursor of a number of undulating, forested hills that skirted a great mountain whose peak seemed to scratch the clouds.

I don't remember ever having crossed such a mountain. Fradel reflected, surveying these strange surroundings.  Yet, if it was the guard's aim to injure me, they could have done it long ago.  Opportunities had abounded on that desolate path, so devoid of habitations or inns.

 He was about to query the stone-faced horseman alongside him regarding this choice of route when, quite precipitously, Fiery Comet halted and refused to advance any further.

Misconstruing this delay as Fradel's intent, Zujor left his scout and approached to reassure the scholar.

 "The reconnaissance bodes well.  The forest extending beyond these hills is clear of any danger.  If you desire, sir, we could take a short sojourn here and lunch in the shade of those trees."

Before Fradel could respond Fiery Comet, in another surprise move, suddenly bolted off on a course tangential to their line of advance (intended direction).

Zujor shouted Fradel to stop as he and the rest of the guards simultaneously fell into a hot pursuit.  That same instant a shrill whistle was heard from behind the woodland hill as a large body of armed brigands poured onto the road, brandishing their swords, charging by with the force of an avalanche out to bury its prey.

 Only the scout stood on his ground, a look of mute surprise froze on his face as his head hit the earth.  Alarmed, Zujor ordered two of his ablest men to forge ahead after the swiftly disappearing Fradel as he and the other dozen wheeled their horses about to bar the road at a defile between two hillocks.

"And just where do you think you're going, knave?" Zujor bellowed at the top of his voice.  So fierce was the lieutenant's cry that the point rider's horse stumbled, toppling its rider to the ground.

"Clear the way if you wish to live!" boomed the voice of the new Bandit Chief, as he whipped his horse to the fore.

 "Our business is not with you.  We only want revenge on the cursed scholar Fradel."

  As he brandished his sword his men let up a mighty yell to spur their murderous charge.

"You'll have to go through me and Hell first!"  Gritting his teeth the brave Zujor glowered at the new Bandit Chief as he steadied his horse, and his squad lowered their lances to meet the charge.

 The fierce fighting and bloodletting that ensued lasted several hours. Swords flailed the air and spears thrust out like pumps as the horses' hooves churned up the turf.  Though lieutenant Zujor and his men were all competent fighters, their adversaries, the bandits, were impregnable (in numbers) and unsurpassed in their cunning and maneuvers.

 When Zujor's strength ebbed, he was mercilessly cut down, sliced clear through from shoulder to waist and the four remaining guards dispersed in panic in all directions.

A small force was allocated to hunt them down while the main body of bandits, responding in one voice to their Chief's command, forged ahead after Fradel.

Riding their superb beasts on the wind, they soon overtook the two guards.  As a few stayed behind to engage the soldiers, the rest chewed on the dust trail Fradel had left behind.  The distance between Fradel and his pursuers widened further with every minute.  Fiery Comet, unequaled in agility and speed, pushed on until, diving into the wall of the forest, they were both lost to human sight.

For countless hours the relentless bandits scoured the dense forest, an evil place with hidden dangers of its own where ancient trees dramatically screened out the sun or altogether, turning day into night, blotting out the sky.  A lookout, climbing to the top of the tallest tree, ardently surveyed the area beyond the forest with his eagle eyes until finally, he spotted a lone, snaking trail of dust in the southeast that disappeared into a crevice between two hills.

 Racing towards it, they traversed a great distance until the strengths of both men and beast were spent beyond their endurance.  It was as though Fradel had been swallowed up by the earth or had vanished into thin air.  With the valley veiled in the shadows of twilight they set up camp, not daring to concede defeat and resolved to continue on with their search at the first break of day.

 

(END OF SECTION 14)

 

                                                                                       ~