LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 20
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| 01 A NEVETS ON HORSEBACK IN THE RAIN |
After several days of laborious, continuous riding under the incessant rainfall, Nevetsecnuac, chiefly out of concern for his steed, once again sought some form of shelter to spend the night. Fortunately, at that moment just before dusk, spotting the (orange tiles of) towers of an old, ruined temple jutting above the vast forest to their left, he steered the horse in that direction.
After several
hours of negotiating the difficult terrain and of snaking, ascending paths,
they finally reached the long since abandoned structure.
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Halting before the unlocked and partially destroyed, crooked, iron gates Nevetsecnuac dismounted and led the horse by the reins, through the opening, to inside. The dilapidated courtyard which greeted them hosted several pools, gifts of the relentless downpours, which dotted the area as if planned for a garden. The entire yard, housing grotesque rocks, shattered pillars and broken tables and chairs carved out of stone, was completely overgrown with a thick, dark green layer of moss and climbers. Brambles and thorn bushes choked the pathways. Oddly enough, one clear, snaking path was beaten through the main thoroughfare, telling of a visit by some person or group in not-too-distant past.
After calling out and receiving no answer Nevetsecnuac
cautiously pushed open a tattered, wooden portal which was filled with gaping
holes. It opened onto a large, dark hall
where the air was so dense that it refused to enter the lungs. Nevetsecnuac fetched the small candle from
his pocket and lit it to illuminate his way. At the far end there was a ruined,
ancient shrine. The colored inscriptions
had long since been gouged, burned, scraped and peeled off and charred, rounded
shapes concealed the identities of whatever idols it had once hosted. Several halls leading from the altar room had
all deteriorated. Broken bricks, stones
and tiles littered the ground, some gathered in heaps. Parts of the roofs of these empty chambers
had collapsed, inviting the torrents of rain inside. The wood floorboards had rotted, and parts
had caved in, those still standing were carpeted in moss. Grass grew in profusion in the kitchens,
lecture halls, dining areas and in the scores of half-standing cubicles that,
in their heyday, had hosted a great number of monks, novices and the droves of
guests and devout followers.
The few rooms
with their roofs still intact were shrouded in a thick layer of cobwebs, dust
and mildew. This endless destruction of
the walls, columns and stone altars and statues, undoubtedly inflicted by the
hand of man, testified to a tragic, turbulent episode in history.
Nevetsecnuac's memory, triggered by the destruction
around, quickly recalled Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon's narrative of the
strife between the different religious orders attempting to gain supremacy
after Zakhertan Yozdek’s usurpation of the throne and the subsequent strong
resistance offered by some loyal monks to the new Emperor.
What was the
reason behind this carnage? As if in
answer, Nevetsecnuac’s eyes were at once drawn to a broken, badly marred tablet
protruding from the rubble on the floor just a few feet away. Nevetsecnuac picked it up, dusted it
carefully and examined it. Well versed
in formal calligraphy, he attempted to make some sense of the deliberately
obliterated remains of the script. When
he reached a line which ended "\\\NG \\TH V\R", he nodded his head in
understanding as tears pricked his eyes.
Carrying the tablet bearing the honored name of his grandfather,
Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, along with a host of sad, leaden thoughts he
pushed onwards into the major courtyard.
Most of the temple's once magnificent, adjoining
(connecting) towers, were now crumbled ruins, walls tottering in the wind,
totally unsafe to enter. The main keep,
bearing the evidence of a final battle, had decisively and mercilessly been
razed right to the ground.
Amid the piles of stone and brick debris which filled
these towers’ foundations, there lay shattered and cracked bronze bells, brass
tripods, cauldrons and drums, broken blades, staffs (iron rods, bamboo poles),
and spears, helmets, some still hosting their owner's skull, and a sea of
bleached bones.
Nevetsecnuac lingered at the sight, overcome with
grief. The tears coursing down his cheek
were quickly washed away by the pounding rain as his unguided feet took him
away from the major courtyard and into a dark, gloomy hall where an even more
gruesome sight awaited him.
There, at the
center, a large heap of charred bones told of the tragic fate of the last
survivors. These loyal monks had fought
and died with valor; yet in this length of time, no living being had dared, or
cared to do the right thing by them.
Denied a proper burial, they had been barred from entering the nether
regions and for decades their tortured souls had been imprisoned on earth,
doomed to wander aimlessly. With this new visitor, Nevetsecnuac, however, their
torment at long last would reach an end.
Already having found a place of high, dry, shielded
ground suitable for their final resting place, Nevetsecnuac took off his wet
outer garments that weighed him down and put to good use the broken picks and
shovels lying around the temple. In the
area he chose, protected from flood and erosion, he dug a deep, fair-sized
grave and, selecting a stone tablet inscribed onto it a touching eulogy to
commemorate the deed of these loyal monks.
Then, with utmost reverence, he collected all the charred remains and transported
them through several trips, into the mass grave. Covered over with clean earth and the
headstone put into place, Nevetsecnuac paid them their last respects, intoning
prayers, shedding tears and making proper sacrifices of food and wine (apportioning
some provisions, as well, part of the plonk, vino, which Yagu had pressed on
him at the time of his departure from the Inn) to their souls.
After this important task was completed, he first
tended to the horse's needs then selected a dry room for himself in which he
laid down his bedding and luggage. As
the pitch darkness blanketed the earth, flames of anguish still searing his
heart, his depressed (state) mood driving away all appetite for food, he only
downed several swigs (mouthfuls) of the coarse wine from the flask and feeling
rather exhausted (spent, beat) he then reclined in slumber. Unfortunately, too
many oppressive thoughts rushed at once to crowd his mind and deny him any
respite. Opening his eyes he
distractedly watched the numerous fireflies that darted about the room, drawing
luminous cursive shapes in mid-air; meanwhile, the sound of the rain drummed in
his ears, till it gradually tapered off.
No sooner had the downpours stopped, however, mother nature set off a
chorus of croaking frogs, droning mosquitoes and nocturnal chirping insects; all
bustling with intense activity, they permanently disrupted any peace (silence) of
the night. Irritated, Nevetsecnuac
turned his face to the wall and pulled the blanket over his head to dampen the
ringing in his ears.
Suddenly, however, the din of noise, the croaking, had
abruptly halted. Nevetsecnuac sat bolt
upright; he thought he'd heard a faint footstep trailing off into the
distance. Springing to his feet next, he
darted outside to find no one there. The
frogs, about to start anew, hesitated, frightened by his presence.
Nevetsecnuac knew he would not sleep after all that, not till he resolved this mystery (satisfied with his curiosity) and, thinking that he’d perhaps overlooked some secret passageway during his previous inspection, he quickly lighted a candle and going outside, started anew his search, for be it a living prowler or a vengeful apparition (ghost), of the immediate grounds of the temple.
On the far wall of one of the halls a small block of
stone, previously hidden by a crumbled idol, had been brushed clean of dust.
Drawing near, Nevetsecnuac gave it a brief scrutiny then applied pressure to
the stone with his palm. As he had
suspected, the stone gave way and sank an inch deep into the wall and, with a
faint groan, a secret underground passageway was revealed off to the side. He traded the candle for a torch light and holding
it up high, he descended the flight of dark, stone steps into a long, snaking
underground tunnel.
Coming to a fork some way down, he examined the debris
on the ground and determined the direction to take was to the left. He advanced swiftly, but cautiously, he
rounded corner after corner until he met up sharply with an obstructing wall. Feeling around the partition, he stumbled
quite by chance on the secret catch that parted the wall.
After descending the precarious stone steps, further
along the path, the tunnel had once, twice then again thrice divided into two
segments; each time however, taking his cue from the disturbed debris and
cobwebs, he veered either to the right or to the left, advancing cautiously
through the dark, dingy tunnel network (labyrinths).
Subsequently, two sets of footprints in the dust, one
large, one small, piqued his curiosity.
As he proceeded, all manners of tunnel creatures, rats with coldly
blazing eyes scurried off, frightened by the light, making a small commotion in
the process.
Though he had covered a fair distance, he still had not encountered anything other than the resident pests (vermin, rats, mice a coiling snake etc.) within these catacombs. The long, narrow passageway at one point passed a set of stairs which led up to two opposite bolted doors. Singling out the door into which the small, wet footprints led, he traced them until they eventually disappeared behind a third door. A faint light streamed out from underneath. As he reached to lift the latch, he heard what it sounded like, a muffled child’s sobs. Quietly, so as not to frighten the child, he pushed the door ajar and perused the inside before stepping through. Except for the tall altar at the far end where the faint whimper emanated, the room was entirely empty.
He advanced
swiftly to investigate but, instead of the child novice he expected, there
crouched a frail young woman with her head buried in her arms, sobbing
pitifully. He was about to gently accost her when she became aware of his
presence and, with a start, looked up at him.
Her tear-stained face, as lovely as a flower, drained completely of all
its color. Trembling, she fell on her
knees and begged him to spare her. He
rushed to raise her to her feet.
"Please do not be frightened (alarmed). I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help." Nevetsecnuac
reassured her then, bowing respectfully, introduced himself as Fradel Rurik
Korvald.
In her crazed state she stared blankly at the scholar,
not comprehending his words then again cupped her face in her hands and
continued sobbing. When the reality of
the situation finally sank in, she turned and sized him up. Yes, this is no robber, her face
seemed to say. He seems a decent
sort, not an immoral being, I will be safe with him.
Her racing
heart was, furthermore, eased somewhat, when she looked into his kind, gentle
eyes and listened to the placating, reassuring words that now began to make
sense. Sighing, she wiped her eyes and
whimpered, "Please, sir, do help me.
You must get me out of here."
Receiving a sympathetic, affirmative response, she tried to fall onto her
knees in gratitude but, made dizzy by her frail state, she faltered and
collapsed instead into his strong, protective embrace.
She was revived and, with (Fradel’s) Nevetsecnuac's
support, was led up to ground level where she was given both food and drink,
her preference leaning towards the wine more so than the water.
Nevetsecnuac surmised that the woman he’d aided, a
rather captivating beauty, was in her early twenties. Once her urgent needs for
food and water had been fulfilled (satisfied), the normal color had then
gradually returned to her pallid cheeks. Soon as she’d regained her strength,
bowing, she thanked Fradel Rurik Korvald profusely and introduced herself as
Yenis Luko. Leaning her head back
against the wall, her eyes half closed, she insisted on hence, telling Fradel
of her past plight.
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| 05 YENIS LUKO |
Some three or four days prior, Yenis could not be exact, while her husband Senson Luko had been absent on business, four stout, armed bandits had, in the middle of the night when everyone was fast asleep, skillfully scaled the high walls surrounding her house, passed through the courtyard, gone through the second set of gates and penetrated the inner compounds into the privacy of the master's quarters, intent on robbing him in his absence. The rogues, skilled in arms, had then made away with the valuables and her, as she had been unfortunate enough to have caught the eye of their chief.
Her servants and her husband’s two younger brothers,
Latham, aged thirty two, and Hacket, aged twenty seven, responding to her
screams for help, had been most ineffective at stopping the bandits. Badly wounded and beaten, this ineffective
lot had watched her being taken away bound and gagged. The ensuing long, arduous ride had, by
nightfall of the following day, delivered both her and her abductors to this
forbidden, forsaken place.
"I dare not deceive you, sir. Everything I say is the truth." Yenis heaved a deep, sorrowful sigh as she
wiped a tear from her eye. Even in her
despair, with her eyebrows knitted in a frown, Yenis looked enchanting,
bewitching, a beauty.
"The truth
is, even if my husband had been there, he would have been, along with the rest
of his family, powerless to stop these wretches."
She sighed and
continued in a murmur, "Though shrewd and cruel, he's old and cowardly,
the same as them."
Looking up at
Fradel shyly, apologetically yet grateful too, she added in a stronger voice,
"Though I've only known you, sir, for a short while, I feel I can unburden
my very soul to you. Yes, you have a
most trusting disposition and have entirely won my confidence. Truly, I feel I can trust you with my very
life."
After a brief pause Yenis then told Fradel how her
abductors had drunk heavily, joked and cursed roundly for the rest of the
night, poking fun at her. Finally, the
bandit chief, seeing the night almost spent and still lusting after her, had
hauled her over his shoulder and carried her to a private room where he meant
to molest her. After bolting the door
from the inside, he had released her from her bonds and, smiling peevishly, had
tried to woo her with sweet words and promises of marriage once they had reached
his lair. When this got him nowhere the
brute tried to force his lustful intentions on her. Savagely smiling, he'd
shamelessly groped after her and, hurled his enormous body onto the bed. At
this point she gave a shudder and, hanging her head, remained lost in thought
for a moment. "I prepared to fight him
with all my might." she said, looking up once again.
"By good fortune my virtue is still intact."
she smiled wryly.
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"No, perhaps it was not fortune; perhaps it was that Heaven took pity on me; for the rogue was so inebriated (intoxicated) that, when he made the attempt, coming at me like the charging mad bull, he stumbled and his head hitting hard the pole of the bed, simply passed out. Seizing this chance to escape this fate worse than death I rushed to the door, unbolted it and burst outside like a madwoman.”
“I don't know
how many times I fell (stumbled) during my escape; still, each time I cupped my
mouth to stifle the cries of pain. I do
not know in which direction I fled, I just ran and ran, beside myself with
fear, trying to get as far away from them as I could. Then at one point, as I leaned against a wall
to catch my breath, through sheer luck I discovered the secret passage. Though mortally afraid of darkness and its
ghosts, I nevertheless descended the pitch-dark stairs and hid there at their
base for quite some time until I'd gathered the added courage to feel my way
down the tunnel." Yenis cringed.
The following morning, unable to find her in the ruins
and afraid of lingering too long and getting caught by their pursuers, the
bandits had left. For two or three days,
in a state of shock, frightened by every shadow, every sound, she had waited
for the authorities to come and rescue her.
Just when she had resigned herself to death by starvation her savior,
Fradel Rurik Korvald, had come onto the scene.
Of course, she had been aware of his presence the moment he'd entered
the temple, but she had not summoned the nerve to approach him. Looking nothing at all like a constable, she
feared he was another bandit or an unscrupulous man at the least, else why
would he be at this temple. She stayed
out of sight, praying that he, too, would go away.
Desperation and hunger had finally driven her out in
the middle of the night, candle in hand, hoping to steal some of his food. Not knowing how to ride, she had not gone for
the horse. Halfway into her errand she
had lost her nerve and, turning on her heels, ran away without confronting
Fradel.
"Oh, those days before your arrival, sir, I had
suffered so terribly." She cringed,
adding in a tragic tone, "I was practically driven into madness. I was a lost soul, severed most cruelly from
my loved ones, from my protective home by that knave. My brothers-in-law, Latham and Hacket,
pshaw! For all their boasting and
martial arts training, they sure proved useless, weaklings and cowards when it
came to facing real adversity.”
“Had I, had someone like you, sir, to protect me none
of this would have happened, though it is some consolation that my virtue is
still intact. Still, I will live forever
more, in fear that it could happen all over again. My peace of mind has also been stolen. Can I ever feel safe again?" She
bemoaned cupping her face.
Despite Fradel's (Nevetsecnuac’s) council against it,
Yenis downed several more cups of wine, claiming the need to forget her
tribulations. Fradel (Nevetsecnuac),
conforming to the rules of etiquette, also consumed the same measure at her
insistence. Slightly inebriated, her
mood turned coquettish.
"Oh, why must you sit so far away, my voice is
going hoarse from shouting?" Yenis
rose to her feet and wove her way across the room towards him.
"It seems
that we were fated to meet Master Fradel."
A tint of red spread across her girlish cheeks as Yenis sat herself
close by, “Just as I was fated to be saved by you from this terrible
ordeal." Again, Yenis thanked him most profusely.
In truth she
was quite beautiful and almost matchless in grace and allure. But Yenis’s charms had failed to win him
over, for it paled in comparison to Nevetsecnuac’s true beloved Teuquob, who,
as far as he was concerned, far surpassed any and all other women in feminine
(attributes,) beauty and charm.
"Yes, I'm most fortunate to have come across a
gentleman scholar as upstanding as yourself." she smiled bewitchingly.
"Few men could measure up to your moral
integrity, Master Fradel. You must
definitely be an immortal, or an angel."
She chuckled as she nodded her head.
"Though I'm here, entirely at your mercy, you
have not tried, not one bit, to take advantage of me. I mean, what can I do if you decide to take
certain liberties with me?" Her face flushed (crimson).
"I'm not as strong willed as I was but three days
ago, and with all this drink in me..."
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Yenis stifled her giggle. There was more than a touch of provocation in her voice as she glanced at Nevetsecnuac from under her fluttering long-lashes, dropping a few more improper hints.
Yenis spoke alluringly and looked utterly bewitching,
as she glanced at Fradel (Nevetsecnuac).
Another in his place, not possessing his integrity and moral rectitude,
would have long ago (surrendered to man’s basic urges and) succumbed to her
charms.
As it was,
Fradel's (Nevetsecnuac’s) head was lowered and, his thoughts having long since
drifted back to his beloved wife, he heaved a deep sigh of longing (pining) for
Teuquob.
In his slightly
inebriated state, he envisioned her guileless smile, and his heart ached,
yearning to embrace her just once more.
Encouraged by his silence, Yenis continued to pretend,
hardly noticing the strange changes (transpiring within her) in herself. Perhaps it was her recent brush with death,
perhaps it was the deprivation of the last few days, or perhaps it was a feeling
borne out of gratitude, or was it the wine?
Whatever the cause, she gazed at this rather striking figure of Fradel,
feeling at first strongly drawn to him then, suddenly, she was consumed with
unrestricted desire.
How handsome his features are, how physically fit he
is! She looked at
him, starry eyed.
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Indeed, Fradel cut a striking figure of a man; his chivalry, his handsome looks, enhanced, despite his ordinary (riding) garments. He appeared to her most irresistible, liken to a demigod, and, unwittingly, ignited the long-forgotten flames of passion within her. It now took all her willpower to resist the temptation to brazenly throw herself into his warm embrace.
He’s such an exceptional being, to have so readily, so
solemnly agreed to do all he could for me; promising to restore me to the
safety of my home and to the bosom of my loved ones; all that with no hint of
any repayment. I've never met (come
across) anyone as selfless and as decent as this scholar, Fradel. Is he for real? Could this, after all, be only some delirium?
No, she pinched herself (wanting confirmation); no,
I'm not dreaming. He's real, all too
real! Suddenly her
expression clouded over, and a frown settled on her features.
Then, what's wrong?
I know my beauty is irresistible to men, why hasn’t he tried to woo me
to win my affection or, basically, seduce me?
Her thoughts straying (drifting), she once more
luxuriated in fanciful imaginings:
Oh; we would
make such a handsome couple, too. I
would be so happy with him.
She affixed her
questioning gaze on Fradel's lowered face. If only he…. But then,
suddenly, a frown appeared on her face. Oh, I’m so terribly, terribly
unlucky. Why couldn't it be him, instead of that wrinkled old brute they forced
me to marry?
I know he
has not taken offense, for he has not reproached me or taken his leave which
can only mean one thing…. Hmm?...
Yes, of course, she just then smiled knowingly. He's
bashful… That must be it. Sure, he needs
a little more encouragement, that's all.
Her (intrinsic psyche) conscience, suddenly in
conflict with her aspiration, reproached her: What’s come over me? Why am I thinking this way?
Moments later, the hot flames of passion anew (once
more) seared her heart and, with her good sense and judgment clouded, she threw
all shame and caution to the wind.
Fluttering her eyes bewitchingly, her face wreathed in smiles, she
begged Fradel not to begrudge her more wine, vehemently disclaiming her
intoxication.
Against his better judgment, Fradel complied, adding
with mock severity that this must be the absolute last, that, after downing
this, they must retire.
Her heartbeat wildly as she reached out her cup with
both hands to receive the wine. The
meaning of Fradel's admonition had been changed substantially by her own
imaginings. Purposefully, she caressed
his outstretched hand.
Fradel, his pure heart denying the obvious, refused to
think unkindly (badly) of her. Quickly swallowing
the contents of his cup, he invited her to use his bedding for the night,
observed her quick acceptance as she swiftly reclined under the blanket and
assumed she must be truly fatigued after her ordeal and having consumed so much
wine. Biding her hasty goodnight, he
quickly headed for the door.
Her rippling glances lingered on him, "Must you
go?"
Feigning fright, she whimpered, "I don't feel
safe here, all alone. What if...?"
"You'll be safe." Fradel (Nevetsecnuac)
reassured her. "I'll only be in the
next room. There’s really nothing to
fear. Now please try to get some rest,
we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."
But she knitted her brows, pursing her lips, and
slightly trembled as if teetering on the verge of tears and again pleaded
meekly with him not to leave. She
declared that she looked to him only with the purest heart, as her Elder
Brother, her savior, and what harm could there be in spending the night in the
same room with her if he slept apart from her, fully clothed.
Fradel frowned, "It still would not be
proper." He shook his head and
calmly urged her to get some rest then he, with deliberate determination, left
the room.
~
(END OF SECTION 20)
