LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 11

                                         

Back at the Under-Secretary Lenny Sukzor’s private residence, for a long while sleep had averted the intrepid Minister; lying awake in deep contemplation, Lenny’s stare had been for some time now affixed (glued, set) on the canopy of his four-poster bed. Incessantly his eyes (pupils) traced each cleverly executed embroidery, woven so colorfully yet mockingly beautiful, depicting patterns of marital fidelity and family’ loyalty, that of which now taunted him with their lies.

01- -LENNY SUKZOR (12)JP

Their creator, his wife Juyin, was as beautiful as she was talented and, if the truth were to be known, he had loved her deeply from the first moment he had set eyes on her.  Despite his present denial, despite all that had since come between them he was still enamored of her. He still treasured every moment they spent together and warmed in the ecstasy, the pure, unadulterated joy she infused down into the very cockles of his heart.

On this night of all nights, he longed to embrace her, to pretend that all was simple and good between them, but his adored wife was not where he desired her to be. She was not in bed beside him. The moment he had feigned sleep, Juyin had snuck away.  Extending his hand, he felt the residual warmth of the mattress. His brows knitted as he turned to his side and (smelled) smelt her perfume still lingering on the pillows and sheets.

02-JUYIN SUKZOR (1).pngJP

He had known of her recruitment from the very start. Until this major incursion he had boasted with impunity how he had kept his household clear of spies but on that day when he had received certain confirmation his anger had welled up intolerably in his chest.  He had conjured up thousands of tortures to pay her back for this ultimate betrayal.

It mattered little that she had most certainly been (coerced) forced into carrying out her actions, if she had been truly loyal, she would have taken her own life rather than submit to the course that was imposed on her.  He had even considered disposing of this viper nestled in his bosom, by administering a slow-acting poison that mimicked “Breakbone Fever”, killing her with long, lingering, excruciating pain.  Then the anger and disappointment had subsided to rest deep within his marrow, and he’d reasoned in a cool, dispassionate way that, he was being too idealistic, and, even if he’d disposed of her, another would be planted in her stead, one who might be far harder to detect.

Subsequently, with things seemingly remaining as they were, Juyin was only given to convey the certain information that Lenny wished for Zakhertan Yozdek to know.

03- JUYIN SUKZOR (6)JP

Even with the apparent benefits of having this direct link (contact) to the Sovereign, he had to argue his case long and hard before Egil Viggoaries and, had endured the lasting humiliation of being verbally, virtually cuckolded in front of his brothers and peers, in order to merely win the continuance of her life for just a while longer before her eventual and certain, sentence to a painful and ignominious death (demise). For nothing less, would satisfy Egil Viggories. The Dark Eunuch Egil, his superior, had so many varied ways to inflict pain and humiliation on a being, and after filling Lenny’s ear with it, each time Lenny had felt wronged by her, like tonight, overriding his mixed emotions, his imagination simply ran rampant with the many possibilities of her imminent, dire punishments.

“Oh, what is the use of tormenting my-self?  That day will come soon enough!” Lenny Sukzor quickly shunted these thoughts aside.

“Better to think of something more to the point, like Dwengzur, for instance. Where has he gotten himself to?”  Inwardly Lenny Sukzor reviewed the same, haunting questions. He had asked discreetly about but none knew of the Immortal's whereabouts since the last assassination attempt on His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek. It was as though Dwengzur had vanished into thin air. The wizard's disappearance without a trace, though not out of character, the long duration (timespan) of it, had baffled everyone.  Of course, the usual rumors circulated, some even reaching the status of a plausible hypothesis, but Lenny had not given any of them much credence.

“Or maybe he’d returned to whence he came...Korion.” Lenny Sukzor, at present, speculated.  He had his certain reservations about Dwengzur from the very start, yet that night, he had been constrained by Egil Viggoaries's bidding to allow Dwengzur to penetrate his deepest most innermost thoughts, in the demonstration.

“If he had retrieved my most confidential stance (position, perspective) he had not let on, had not disclosed the one most damaging fact that would have spelled my immediate doom.  Moreover, he could have extorted me, to secure his silence.” Lenny, thinking back, now pondered on the concern once more.

04- DWENGZUR (AS lENNY REMEMBERS)

Lenny also recalled the fleeting, knowing smile and the Immortal’s perfunctory reaction had been, when the opportunity had finally availed itself for Lenny, to broach this most delicate subject in privacy with him. Dwengzur had curtly declared that he was not at all interested in the politics of Wenjenkun, or of Korion for that matter.  His manner, at the time, had indicated that he had a far greater purpose in mind. Of course, that purpose had since become clear, after the last assassination attempt on Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek.

 Dwengzur had established himself at Court solely to apprehend one of his own!

“Perhaps the hoary legends of this red-haired race were true after all?”  Lenny nodded absently.

Just then Lenny Sukzor was startled from his reverie by the faint sounds of footpads in the hall.  The door handle slid against the latch.  He lay perfectly still in mimed slumber as she crept inside, quickly disrobed and slipped between the covers. She sniffed. “Was she crying?” 

Lenny longed to turn to her, clasp her to his heart and tell her that it was all right, that come what may, he would protect her in the end, but he knew that it would be a veil of lies that would only soothe his conscience temporarily.  He lay like a stone statue, cold and unmoving as her warm body snuggled next to his and she buried her head under the covers.

“Blessed sleep will overtake you soon, my love, and then you will find the solace you seek.  Or will you? Will the nightmare of your betrayal haunt your peace even then?”  Lenny Sukzor cursed himself, cursed his ambition, and cursed the times and everything else that kept him apart from his heart's desire (urgings). Soon, out of sheer emotional exhaustion he, too, was impervious (unreceptive, as he was asleep) to the stirrings of the night.

 

                                                                                  ~

 

In the dead of night an unusual thud had abruptly and with a start awakened Nevetsecnuac; but now all seemed deathly still in semi-darkness. Just then however, his ears detected (picked up) another slight thump. There it was again. This was followed by a faint rustling of leaves and then a crunching sound.

This very night being exceptionally hot and humid, to gain some relief Nevetsecnuac had left the windows wide open; a slight breeze moved the curtains aside at that point in time to expose the culprit crouched in a corner of the windowsill, but he scurried off, frightened by the minute disturbance in the room.  A fleeting smile brushed Nevetsecnuac’s lips as he rubbed his eyes and then languidly (indolently) surveyed the room.  Why had he slept so long? He had only meant to doze off for a few minutes, just long enough to fool that busybody steward!

He reached for the empty cup by his bedside and examined it. His nose creased having at once picked up the faint but distinct odor that anyone else might have easily missed.  Earlier on, alerted by the steward's uncharacteristic insistence, he had had only a sip before slyly giving most of it to the resident cat that, of late, had taken to sleeping in Nevetsecnuac's room.

05- SLEEPING CAT

The feline was now sprawled at the foot of the bed, (out cold) dead to the world. Nevetsecnuac’s keen ears at that moment having picked up yet another suspicious sound, this time from the hallway, Nevetsecnuac swiftly shoved the drugged feline under the bed where she could recover from her misfortune without alerting the staff to her state. 

Nevetsecnuac then returned to bed and slipped under the covers to feign sleep just in time, when suddenly, the door creaked open, and someone tiptoed into the room.  Nevetsecnuac distinctly (became aware) felt, the change in airflow as the bedcurtains were parted and then the hot breath of someone bending over him as if to assure himself that Fradel Rurik Korvald was, as he should be, in deepest slumber. Once this had been ascertained the intruder walked over and shut the window, locked it, and pulled those curtains tightly together; he next reached over to the night table and picked up the incriminating cup.  Afterwards, just as silently he exited the room and closed the door behind him.

"Go to bed." Nevetsecnuac heard the hushed command at outside.  "There's nothing more to be done here. He will be sound asleep until the morning."  The sounds of their reassured footfalls gradually muted down the length of the hallway.

The evidence now gone, Nevetsecnuac bit put out, bolted upright in sitting position in bed.

 What warranted this precaution?

He had been intentionally, for an unknown reason, drugged to be rendered incapacitated. If it had been a foe, he would have certainly used this opportunity to finish him off.  His suspicions all the same aroused, Nevetsecnuac pushed the covers aside and quietly got out of the bed; after he changed into dark garments he walked over and pressed his ear to the door.

“Good!”  Nevetsecnuac exhaled deeply, knowing full well the sentry and the night attendants had all left; not a soul stirred at the hallway’s extended (comprehensive) perimeter, therefore, it was now perfectly safe for him to exit the room and (scout) reconnoitre the grounds. Having already conceived the notion, just what and where the main action- the covert meeting might transpire, Nevetsecnuac once at the outside, advanced stealthily and vigilantly through the pathways, for under the canopy of winking stars and the full moon’s silver rays the checkered grounds were perfectly (completely)illuminated.

Nevetsecnuac persistently then stuck to the right, his silent steps traversing (going forward) without hesitation on the snaking flagstone trails that would eventually around the bend, disappear behind the manufactured mountain. 

06- GROUNDS AT NIGHT

He crossed several small walking bridges that hopped over bubbling brooks and streams of diverse sizes and depths, taking care all the while to be swallowed up by the shadows to avoid detection by the increased number of security patrols that were out and about this very night, dutifully scouring that segment of the complex.

At one point, Nevetsecnuac had been constrained to wait in concealment as two groups of guards met midpoint and shared some bits of idle gossip before resuming their rounds. Soon as the coast was clear, Nevetsecnuac quickly skirted the heart shaped pool filled with golden carp sparkling in the moonlit water and delved into a thick pine grove to avoid the next cordon (barrier, blockade) of guards. Following the thin meandering gravel path, he quickly emerged at its far side in the forbidden section and headed straight towards the location of Zaur's secret office. 

Surprisingly however, the wing was just as dark and perfectly quiet. Nevetsecnuac climbed up the unusually tall trellis, covered with lush green vines (decked bluebell flowers), which was on the shaded side of the building, to reach the apex of the roof and then to survey the grounds from there.  Just as he was about to reach the peak (top), he noticed some ways off down below, a faint, quivering sliver of light blinking behind the iron shutters of an oblong window tucked under the eaves of a solid structure (building), nestled in the thick bamboo grove, in the most ancient part of the mansion.

His senses on the alert Nevetsecnuac crept stealthily towards it, as his determination to unravel this newest duplicity of Zaur's, wounded itself tighter and tighter into his will. Once there and perched under the eaves like a bat, he peered through the narrow slit that was his only view into the room and, strained his ears to make out what was being said. Despite the deceptively small proportions of the structure on the outside, the hall within was in fact spacious and, elongated away from his viewpoint, it comfortably (assembled) accommodated   some twenty or thirty stout (robust, sturdy) cloaked men. 

Nevetsecnuac quickly comprehended from their various accents that these were the sectional leaders, congregated here from the various, far-flung reaches of Wenjenkun.  He had to marvel at the apparent scope (extent, reach) of this secret organization and the strict discipline to which masked members unquestioningly adhered.  With keen interest he observed how they all moved as if one body to reverently face the alter and, as Zaur Stugr stood off to one side, swore the ancient oath of allegiance as if with one multi-toned voice, renewing their bond to the Brotherhood.

The ceremony ended in a bloody ritual sacrifice after which the cloaked figures, in a steady stream in which their positions were obviously dictated by differences in rank or seniority, exited the hall through a hidden tunnel.

 

(END OF SECTION 11) 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE CAPITAL CHANNING – SECTION 13

 

As Zaur Stugr further jogged his memory, he recalled the clandestine meetings Prince Wenzor had conducted with Zakhertan Yozdek and some other important Minister (within those very premises ) at Sorgun's stately mansion.

 

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (21) JP

 

Once, playing hide and seek with an older playmate, he had accidentally stumbled on the conspiring trio in the garden and would have thought nothing of it save for the great stir it had caused.  He had, consequently, received a stern reprimand from his father and had been subsequently sequestered in his room.

 His unluckier playmate supposedly had been sent away with orders never to return but, years later he had learned that the poor boy had met his untimely demise at the hands of one of Zakhertan’s henchmen.

 

“My father was playing host to those traitors.  But how can that be? I know he was a staunch (steadfast) loyalist of the Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir all his life. How could he have been drawn into this conspiracy? When did it happen? Was it by accident or by design? “

 

Zaur Stugr shook his head absolutely refusing to accept those perfidious, unconceivable treasonous notions; then suddenly an idea flashed in his brain, and he conjectured, (hypothesized), “Or was he… perhaps an undercover agent (a spy), working surreptitiously all along for the Emperor Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir and that’s why they so sadistically murdered him?”

 

Zaur bit his lip, surmising now, how these incriminating letters would have solidly backed up, Sorgun's allegations. Here were the plans for an insurrection, the irrefutable proof that would have backed up his father's claim (disclosure) of their treasonous aim to overthrow His Majesty Zuronghan Valamir. Alas, his father had failed because of a despicable betrayer, a trusted friend no less.

 

Zaur Stugr recollected then one of Sanzo Tezcat’s discussions about the sudden, curious disappearance of the Third Prince Wenzor, seemingly at the height of his popularity and influence, soon after that of Sorgun Dufo’s.  In fact, that mystery, too, to present had remained unresolved.

 

Reflecting on what Fradel Rurik Korvald had recounted about Yakkasar’s findings in the pit that night, that there had been another clustered group of skeletons at the far end away from the solitary one that was presumably Sorgun; the accumulated facts all at once suddenly fell into place, forming in Zaur’s mind, most probable hypothesis of sequence of events back then.

02- PRINCE WENZOR  JP

 

“Yes, why not; it certainly stood to reason that one of the ones in that clustered group of skeletons must have been the very Prince Wenzor.”   Zaur Stugr inwardly fumed, grounding his teeth.

Undoubtedly the Prince had outlived his usefulness to Zakhertan Yozdek and, in keeping with the usurper's tenets (credos, stances), had been betrayed.  Another in Zakhertan’s place might have allowed the prince to rule for a time, as a puppet king forced to perform at every pull at the strings, till Zakhertan had firmly consolidated his power.

 This would have spared the country from the ensuing bloodshed and of Civil Wars; but that would have hardly satisfied Zakhertan’s insatiable appetite for carnage and bloodbath now, would it?  Meanwhile, this was more in keeping (more typical) with Zakhertan Yozdek’s perverted, vicious mind, (more akin to his wicked sense) to have two mortal enemies thrown into the same pit to die together.

 

Zaur shook his head (rushed), to block from his mind those horrendous means, instruments of brutal tortures and to purge the ghastly images of the sort, his father Sorgun Dufo must have been subjected to, his ordeal lasting long afterwards, in that pit, at the hands of the Prince Wenzor and his men.

His eyes misted over as he reflected how his father had expired still protecting the secret; meanwhile Zakhertan Yozdek, alive and well, still currently, reigned supreme.

 

That part of the countryside, Zaur Stugr knew, was riddled with such pits, as mass graves, they should frankly be called.  From the evidence gleaned from the few that had come to light, he had learned something of their nature, of the ingenious manner of their construction and the way in which the (trapped individuals) unfortunates therein had met their demise.

 

All these years while his father’s corpse had languished in that akin pit, been gradually reduced to a skeleton, the key long since forgotten, tauntingly, sardonically had remained, locked in Sorgun Dufo’s silent jaw.

A staunchly determined soul preserving a secret forever, eternally locked in the mouth’s cavity!

03- KEY HIDDEN IN MOUTH

 

“But that meant that he couldn’t even cry out in pain!”

 

“The irony!  And now that nothing could be done about it, the key had finally come to light (been discovered).”

 

Suddenly, scathingly, another detail came to his mind (had struck Zaur).

 

“No clothing?”  He whispered.

 

There had been no mention of it in Fradel's account, but he knew the procedure (process, modus operandi) all too well.

Zaur Stugr knew, for instance, that they would have been stripped naked (hence, been exposed to the harsh elements), before being thrown into the pit, to ensure that there would be nothing hidden under cloth, nothing at all that could identify them.  And that way they would be forever lost to posterity, their person (being) would simply vanish into oblivion. History would never recount their heroics, their exploits, or their grievous plight in the end.

 

Zaur Stugr envisioned Zakhertan Yozdek’s cruel face sneering in the end.

He further imagined him saying, "Go ahead, and contemplate your treachery and vengeance all you wish down there.  Curse me with your dying gasps.  See if I care in the least."

Then Zaur heard the usurper's grating, vicious laughter as he signaled his men, soon to die themselves, to pile the planks then the earth back onto the mouths of these entrances to Hell. 

Zaur Stugr shook his head and grimaced sardonically, knowing how useless the information in the box was now.

If only he had trusted Sanzo Tezcat enough back then (at the time) to reveal to his guardian the truth about the box, that it was his father, not mother, who’d given him the box!

 

04- THE BOX

 

 If only Zaur (Kundrick Dufo) had been brave enough to face the consequences!

Bearing in mind Sanzo’s competence (his skill, proficiency, and resourcefulness), knowing what he knew of Sanzo now, especially with the backing of the Brotherhood of Kozurs, Sanzo would have succeeded where his father had failed and so altered the grim course of history.

 

“What use is this information to me now…To anyone else, for that matter?” 

He clenched his fists in rage, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

 

 “The decision he’d made so long ago was irrevocable. Was this the cruel act (hand) of providence (destiny, chance, luck, divine intervention) or simply, his own stupidity; which was it?”  Zaur Stugr’s face burned with suppressed, searing rage. 

 

He imagined all the Gods with caustic, mordant glare, cursing him. He saw his enemies, even the dead ones, all mocking him.

 

Zaur’s fist clenched tight, he pounded on (struck) the hard wall, over and over, creating a big dent in it. Highly incensed (enraged), he remained oblivious to the pain of his hand that had become more and more badly bruised and bloodied with each strike; meanwhile, such intense rage swelled up in his chest that he felt he would just burst.

 

 It took strong willpower for him to finally restrain (contain, subdue) his self-destructive (detrimental, damaging) course.  But then, anon flood (flurry) of angry tears filled his eyes and few escaping over the rim, trickled down his cheek. Vehemently (fervidly) he wiped them quick.

 

He was still so livid (furious) with himself for after all those years of training, his countless daring feats (accomplishments, exploits), his machinations… all that power he presently held with the strong backing of Kozurs, all; in the end it amounted to big, useless nothing! Nothing! Nothing!

05- ZAUR STUGR (SADDENED BY IT ALL)

 

Again, irately, rising from his chair, he paced the room like a caged beast, hands clasped behind him, not trusted to do his bidding.

"What a fool I've been!" he inwardly howled.  "What a great and utter fool!" 

 

At last, resolving to never again be tricked by appearances or his own mistrustful nature, he closed the rooms, left the wing, and stepped out into the cold, frigid morning air.

Fate relenting, lent him to a soft breeze, to caress his face or perhaps, to taunting him further, with yet another cruel trick.

 

 Zaur Stugr left the compound, his urgent footsteps following a snaking path that skirted tall, unkempt hedges that sagged under the burden of dew.

 

 Just then a gust of wind bit at his moistened face, a shiver rippled through him, and his skin turned to gooseflesh all over.

                                                                              ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 13 – THE FINAL SECTION, OF, THE CAPITAL CHANNING)                                                                          ~

 

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE CAPITAL CHANNING – SECTION 12

 

Minister Zaur Stugr just then was reminded of the recent disturbing developments in Chukset Province, particularly the local governor’s role (part) in it, all of which had been painstakingly recounted in Tonzeye Yevgun's recent report.

 Zaur’s brows knotted, and anger smoldered in his chest as he reflected how, despite all of his efforts, the corruption had been so rampant (prevalent), so great were the sufferings of the citizens that all of his prior efforts had barely made a dent in suppressing (throttling) their tyrannical schemes.

01 ZAUR STUGR JP 12b

 

Another dire concern also gnawed at his viscera (innards), for despite all his forces being kept on highest vigilance (alert), despite all the avenues the Kozurs had explored, Zaur had remained completely in the dark about Prince Nevetsecnuac’s current whereabouts.

Zaur shook his head to dispel all disquieting (troubling) thoughts, reminding himself that he must keep up hope, as he had still not received any word from the men sent in pursuit of the assassin Duan and his cohort, Heng Erling.

 

“What's that?” Zaur Stugr was instantly jolted from his reverie.  His acute hearing had picked up a barely discernible, fleeting creak outside of the room.  Tensing, he sat upright and listened intently. 

“There it is again.”  His keen ears had detected another, even more slight sound. “Could it be an intruder?” 

A moment later, the room locked securely behind him, he advanced stealthily down the long corridor of the East Wing towards the source of the noise.  Hiding in the shadows, he waited. 

When the soft, silent footfalls drew near, he stood ready to pounce in a flash, with his fist poised to deliver a most deadly blow, a single chop, to right under the intruder's ribcage, where in an instant it would block (intercept) the life’s blood to the heart.

"What in blazes are you doing here?" Zaur Stugr growled, halting his attack in mid-stroke. "You should know better than to sneak around here at night."  Shaking his finger at his strapping, young assistant, Zyerne, he admonished him, "I could have killed you."  Zaur Stugr angrily shook his head.

02- ZYERNE STEWOR

 

Zyerne Stewor was a broad-shouldered, tall, and stalwart (athletic) youth of about nineteen years in age, with fiery red-blond hair, clean shaven, one who had most striking handsome facial features, with keen blue eyes that never missed anything; furthermore, he had a brilliant mind and was courageous and loyal. 

He was also one of the most recent new recruits that had succeeded in a short span to become a valuable affiliate of Kozurs; nevertheless posturing (posing) as Zaur’s personal steward (butler, superintendent) in Zaur’s large household, he oversaw (managed) many of the most crucial, covert daily tasks.

 

“You’re always so dramatic; but then that is one of your most endearing qualities.” Zyerne instead, simply pouted (furrowed his forehead) and meekly lowered his head. He was rather fond of his Chief being always well treated, here (at Zaur’s residence) and in the organization, so fairly and considerately by him.

"I woke up suddenly, sir, and realized you were absent." the aide Zyerne ejected in a concerned voice.  "I hurried on here, thinking that you might perhaps be in need of my services."

"Your foolhardy conscientiousness is nevertheless commendable", Zaur smiled, "but in this instance I have no need of your assistance.”

“Tomorrow, however, I will be sending you on an important errand so you may as well return to your room and get what rest you can." Having said this, turning on his heels, Zaur Stugr quickly headed back in the opposite direction from his trusted aide, Zyerne Stewor.

 

                                                                                ~

 

 

Incredibly, both men had completely missed (remained unaware) the presence of a third figure well concealed in the shadows. 

Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) arriving later than Minister Zaur Stugr in this forbidden East Wing had suddenly spotted the scant light emanating from the small window high up (though mostly hidden behind a set of elaborate eaves,).  This was when Zuan had opened the window just a crack.

 As the window had been way too small (to permit even an entry of a small child), Nevetsecnuac next had tried but failed to gain stealth entry into either of the secret rooms. He tried peeking in (stealing a look) but the solidly built roof because of its angle had entirely obscured (obscured, masked) the inside. Discovering the only other window to one of the well concealed rooms, he had tried to breach (crack open) that, but it too had been securely sealed, this time with brass bars embedded in the stone of the sill.

Nevetsecnuac was considering his other options when in that instance, the interesting encounter between Zaur and Zyerne had transpired. He had waited for them to leave then carrying serious misgivings in his heart about his host, Nevetsecnuac too, had reluctantly retired, unseen, and unheard, to his room.

                                                                                                                                                               

                                                                                    ~

 

Following night, long after everyone had succumbed to slumber (sleep, forty winks); Minister Zaur Stugr had again stealthily snuck (sneaked) back into the East Wing.  He quickly recovered the mysterious box from its hiding place and, once more seated in the plush armchair in that secret library, reached into his inner pocket and retrieved the key.  Determined as he’d been to find out what the box had contained, once more his thoughts defiantly had drifted yet again, back to that specific time of his avowed disclaimer, the bane of his conscience.

Naturally, a fortnight after his father's departure, the box his father had entrusted with him had been discovered (detected) among his personal belongings by the tending servants and, at once, brought to Sanzo's attention. 

When Kundrick Dufo was confronted with the matter, he quickly snatched the box from the table and fearful of losing it, had held it tight to his chest and declared. 

"It’s my mother's!  It’s the only memento I have left of her."   And yes, at that moment, he’d told a blatant, shameless lie.

He had thought at the time that he’d been rather clever; especially since his guardian Sanzo had quietly scrutinized him (Kundrick) for a time then just dropped the matter.

“Perhaps he could not conceive of Sorgun, so careful in all he did, leaving anything of such great importance in the hands of a mere boy.” With hindsight, Zaur at present theorized. 

For in the end shrugging, Sanzo had turned his back and ordered in an icy tone, "Have the child made ready for bed." 

03- - SANZO TESCAT (2)

 

Sanzo Tezcat had never again raised the matter of the box, allowing Kundrick (young Zaur) to instead come around of his own accord and, if it was at all important, tell him.

The more Kundrick’s respect for his mentor had grown however, so had increased his fear and the shame for his damnable, detestable lie (he’d told his guardian). To make matters worse, Kundrick had learned bit too late, how much Sanzo prized integrity in a person, second only to loyalty and, how intolerant he’d always been of least deceit from those around him, his stern, harsh and judgmental stand on this matter not allowing for any mitigating circumstance. After having been an unwitting witness to the severity of the brutal repercussions suffered by one such offender, Kundrick had desisted confessing his lie (that he deemed was the result of his unfortunate lapse in good judgment back then), feeling the oppressive guilt, he’d suffered all this while, had been his just deserts (his punishment) enough.

Besides which, what he dreaded more than anything was losing the fragile trust, the rare privilege that Sanzo Tezcat had bestowed on him. 

Sanzo meanwhile had been far too preoccupied with other more pressing concerns, having deducted from the start that, whatever the nature of Sorgun's secret mission had been, Tojo Tugo's treachery had cost his dearest friend Sorgun his life. 

Highly incensed, despite the precariousness of their circumstance and the urgency of their flight from immediate danger, he had hankered (sought) instead, to extract the truth from Tojo and to mete-out apt vengeance on him on behalf of his friend Sorgun.  Delaying their departure hence, he had petitioned the Kozurs’ governing board requesting (demand) full cooperation and assistance in this matter.

Well before Sanzo and Brotherhood could take (or execute) any action however, Tojo had quite suddenly, mysteriously met his demise by a most gruesome accident, leaving behind him many unanswered questions.  Soon afterwards, all leads had dried up, as all of Tajo’s collaborators; his close associates who may have been able to shed some light on the matter, had all succumbed to lethal accidents. 

Result of discrete, thorough autopsies conducted on pertinent (stolen and dug up) corpses by the Kozurs’ top physician, had established the real causes and circumstances of each victim’s death. For one thing, the findings had revealed that they had all died (expired) well before their, obviously staged, fatal accidents.

The method of death in each case was the, long, poison-laced needle that had been inserted through the nostril into the brain, effecting (bringing about, causing) an instantaneous paralysis of the intended victims.

 This technique had been the preferred choice for murder, by only one well-known assassin, a henchman of Zakhertan Yozdek who, unfortunately, could not be touched.

The fact that Zunrogo Tugo and the reminder of Tojo's family had not been entirely terminated indicated that Zakhertan Yozdek considered Tojo’s service as being loyally rendered one and his demise was arranged, not as revenge but merely as a means of wiping the slate clean of all clues that could lead to the Usurper Emperor. After his initiation into Kozurs, as an affiliate (member), Zaur Stugr had finally been privy to these well documented findings. Strange though it may seem, despite this most likely outcome of his father's fate, still, over the course of many years Zaur had maintained the strong belief that, so long as he held onto the box (and the secret it contained) and, fact that his father’s corpse had not been found, he'd realize his wish of one day meeting his father or, at worse, of finding out what had actually befallen him. 

The subsequent years had spun rapidly by and, in the flurry of change that had swept the nation; the significance of Sorgun's box had rapidly diminished in Sanzo's eye just as, out of necessity and shame, it had acquired an ever-greater prominence in Kundrick’s heart.

 

                                                                      ~

 

“This cowardice is so unbecoming of you.”  Zaur inwardly chastised (reprimanded) himself. “Shame, how you’ve grown soft over the years.”

 

In fact, his hesitation, his inhibition had resulted from foreboding feelings of, the odd premonition, that he would be better off not knowing the contents of the box.

 

“All right; you've stalled long enough!”  Zaur Stugr, resolved to find out whatever the cost, he then inserted the key in that second keyhole and turned it.

The device (aperture) worked, and he heard a certain click.

 

Holding his breath in, he slowly lifted the lid and looked inside.  For a spell he was disappointed at the small collection of documents he saw, so frail they were laying at the bottom of the chest, hardly the sort of thing these many, weighty years of secrecy would have warranted.

Gingerly Zaur picked them up, one by one, and deposited them on the desk.  He studied the writing with sure interest until, realizing what they were all about, his face fell.  His brows knit and his expression grew grave as he nodded with grim understanding of the past consequences of their very existence and all the suffering it had caused.

04- THIRD PRINCE, WENZOR ALRIC THERRAN VALAMIR 2- jp

 

 It was a letter, several pages long, from the Third Prince, Wenzor Alric Therran Valamir, to Zakhertan Yozdek himself.  In it were the detailed plans for future uprisings both within and without Capital Province Holger, as-well-as, grateful thanks for the already rendered valuable services by then Field Marshal Zakhertan.  Prince Wenzor had additionally promised Zakhertan of future rewards after his continued, anticipated cooperation.

 Here was clear evidence of how Prince Wenzor Alric Therran Valamir had been completely duped by Zakhertan Yozdek.  Believing that Zakhertan sincerely had the prince’s own interest at heart, Prince Wenzor had, in all naivetés, provided the usurper with otherwise unavailable advantages. With this, Zakhertan had been able to move more swiftly, more effectively towards his goal of establishing himself as the future Emperor.

Added to this was the list which incriminated, some prominent, seemingly loyal Ministers, Lords, and courtiers as, co-conspirators in Prince Wenzor's schemes.

 

These very same men, Zaur Stugr (Kundrick) remembered, had later supported Zakhertan on his ascendency (to become present reigning Sovereign); their betrayal causing great shock and consternation among the Royalists camp.

 

“Yes, of course!”  

 

Zaur Stugr faintly remembered having seen Third Prince Wenzor Alric Therran Valamir once or twice at Sorgun's stately mansion.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 12)