LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 4

Back in his offices, Lamont Gudaren studied the full set of documents very carefully, astutely reading between the lines. He’d thought Luvet would make a perfect undercover agent; he had a clean record, and he was such a bookworm and rather dull academician. He was least romantic, a tedious oaf (boor, fool, klutz); so how did he get so enmeshed with Disaidun Agripe? Who would have thought Ceroz had it in him to do what he did. What really went on in that boat would be anyone’s guess? He’d read Zunrogo Tugo’s brief report also, talking about another disappointment.

 

01- PM LAMONT GUDAREN 10-JP

Lamont’s thoughts turned to his most pressing problem, his nephew Yekav. Personally, he didn't care much for the boy.  His ward was a constant source of disappointment and now a definite liability.

“That idiot nephew of mine, Yekov, is sure to be implicated in this crime, though it seems to be only indirectly.  It may take some doing but I still have influence enough to extricate him from all blame.”

Lamont Gudaren would have said good riddance to Yekov, but in view of these recent developments, for if he did not take certain measures in time to nip this in the bud, Lamont knew that there would be far reaching consequences (repercussions) for him.

The charges were based partially on the truth, this proof had been furnished to him, within a detailed report he had commissioned earlier on, by his operatives (agents).  If Lamont wanted to get well ahead of Egil Viggoaries and his cronies, he could delay acting on this no longer.

“All avenues must be blocked; all incriminating evidence eliminated at the source before the cursed eunuch Egil gains any real advantage. Yekov (his troublesome nephew) will eventually be exonerated, but this will be the last time I’ll go through this much trouble for that dastardly boy.  A fatal hunting accident while visiting his half-brother Keigo Ro in Kensu Province… Hmm… that shouldn’t be too hard, to arrange. “

Having settled on the handling of the problem, Lamont Gudaren dispatched his trusted secretary with the appropriate instructions to ensure that the cover-up was carried out immediately, without a hitch.  The matter now settled, he leaned back in his plush chair and wearily closed his eyes.

This whole business with the boy, mounted upon his other concerns, had irritated him a bit too much.  At times like these, he was happy he had only two female offspring.  They were quite beautiful, too, like their mother.  He was hopeful for their future prospects, but they were still too young for him to include them in his machinations.

 Lamont opened his eyes and stared at the stack of documents that demanded his perusal and signature.  Every day was the same.  However much he delegated, his workload still seemed to increase.  There were never enough manpower and funds to allocate, to deal with all of it satisfactorily.  In view of all the extravagant expenditure, especially those of Royal Family’s, the State funds were fast being depleted.  The treasury accounting records showed a consistent, mounting deficit year after year.

 Owing (due) to a summer drought last year in the western provinces and floods along the lower Yawjun River this spring, the government granaries were at only half of the level (capacity) they should be at this time of the year.  Yet with the new military campaigns, the lavish architectural projects, the bribes that must be paid to assuage the rampant corruption, the fiefdoms granted almost at random, the taxes already a burden, perpetually mounting, he wondered, where would it all end?

 As a matter of fact, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren was at his wits-end trying to find a plausible solution to the failing economy, the rampaging deficit, and at the same time to procure adequate funds for the military and the growing demands for the so-called necessary expenditures incurred for the benefit of the state.  The only partial relief came after the advocated wars when the much-needed tribute was finally paid.

How much longer could they sustain this appearance of a strong nation?  The system was rotten to the core.  But would he dare to let any criticism slip through into any of his reports?  His Highness was most intolerant of any failings, any weakness.  Even the Censorate Bureau, the Treasury Department, the Imperial spies, and Internal Security had all acted as if one body, collaborating with him to obscure these findings, stalling for time until a solution presented itself.

Despite all seeming appearances, his own personal finances were in no great shape either; at least not in the kind of plateau (area of stability) he would like it to be. 

“Ah!  But I have had a few lucky breaks now and then, haven't I?” He stood up, clasped his hands behind his back and slowly strolled over to the window.

 “Mmm! “The sweet scent of rare orchids rose from the courtyard to regale his nostrils.  His eyes fixed themselves to the upright, solid lines of the gingko tree in the center as his thoughts moved on to the upstanding Under Secretary Lenny Sukzor, a man well respected by the Sovereign for his integrity, his strong character, efficiency resourcefulness and his no-nonsense frankness.

In the crunch, it was Lenny Sukzor who could be counted on to diligently carry out the most difficult and delicate jobs that all others shunned for fear of failure. 

 

02- LENNY SUKZOR (2)JP

Lamont Gudaren grinned wryly as he thought back to how the Under Secretary had, quite unexpectedly, disclosed in Court the entire amount of the bribe he had personally received from the emissaries from Kontu, forcing the rest of the Court bureaucrats to do likewise, though Lamont doubted their accuracy of the count, after all, even he had concealed a few small items.

Earlier on, against the advice of many of his well-meaning associates and good friends who had strongly advocated that he gain maximum benefit from the emissaries' offer, Lenny had ruffled few feathers by seeking the Prime Minister Lamont's good council on how best to refuse the gifts secretly lavished on him and return them to the delegation from Kontu.

“Hopefully," Lenny had hemmed and hawed at this point, making an outward show of humility, "this can be done without stepping on any toes, instigating any ill will or triggering any diplomatic incident."

In his heart of hearts, Lamont Gudaren had always disliked the man and thought of him as too ambitious, too pretentious, a tiresome boor and, an instigator of unwarranted troubles if nothing else.

 At the time, he had almost petulantly (sullenly) dismissed him, for his audacity, which would have been a grave mistake on his part. Meanwhile this irregularity raised his suspicions. “Since when, and for what reason our bold, no-nonsense Under Secretary has become so circumspect and elliptical, all of a sudden?”

 Prudently Lamont had at first been rather evasive with his response; but then on second thought, he had concealed his true feelings and his immense annoyance at the upstart and had pretended to acquiesce, with him. Lamont had very graciously then promised to intercede diplomatically on Lenny's behalf and handle the matter of returning the bribes for him. 

Admittedly, that was a bothersome trifle but in the end the benefits he would reap would certainly exceed all expectations.

Lenny Sukzor, not concealing too well his disappointment, suddenly had a change of heart (mind).  Bowing low, he’d profusely apologized for his thoughtlessness in troubling Lamont; then asserting that it would be way too troublesome for Prime Minister and therefore not wishing to impose, stated that, however hard it might be, he would personally handle this matter.

In retrospect, Lamont saw now, this was an underestimation of the man.

 Alas, he’d regretted since then, not anticipating Lenny's next move and upstaging the upstart, by his returning the bribes in a timely manner; for as it happened, Lenny Sukzor had shone like a bright star from that time on, in Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek's estimation; hadn’t he?

“No matter,” Lamont shook his head, but his face grew long and a dark, as shadow fell over his eyes.

“Well, that's water under the bridge now; a missed opportunity is a missed opportunity.” Lamont shrugged; but then his spirits lifted as he thought, “Oh well, at least it wasn't an entire loss. I still got a piece of Lenny Sukzor’s good fortune.”

Lamont picked up the top document and perused it, “This one can wait.” He disdainfully set it aside.

His thoughts reverting to Lenny Sukzor, “Hmm, it turns out he was way too shrewd and certainly far-sighted. “Lamont admitted to himself.

Or perhaps he lacked concrete proof and hoped to delicately forewarn me and the others of the impending disaster.  That may be why he sought first my unneeded advice when, with that glib tongue of his, he could have at any point in time, resolved the matter himself. 

The Prime Minister considered for a time this well-calculated, politically astute move on Lenny's part.  “No, I'm giving him way too much credit.”  He perfunctorily dismissed (rejected) the notion; still, what had transpired next, with an unexpected turn of events, had been a boon.

“It’s that devil Egil Viggoaries that rendered me this great favor, despite him.”

 

03- EGIL VIGGORIES -9JP

The thought of his nemesis seething in rage brought a fresh broad grin of satisfaction to Lamont’s lips.

“I, myself, could not have thought of a better plan than this stroke of luck.  Always plotting to undermine my efforts, it serves that mongrel- dog right that he should now stew in his own juices.” The Prime Minister gloated.

Indeed, before he could fulfill his promise to Lenny of returning the gold to the emissaries, a sudden turn of events had dictated that he follows a different strategy and gain an invaluable opportunity to add a prized addition to his web of secret affiliates. Even though he had not moved thus far to collect on the debt, he was content with the knowledge that Lenny Sukzor was now his to do with as he saw fit. 

“Yes, Lenny Sukzor, with your unblemished reputation, I now own, your body and soul, lock, stock and barrel.” 

The Kontu emissaries had struck a favorable bargain, wherein they had agreed to take the gold itself back without any ill will but would, to mollify their Emperor, leave the rare gifts with their recipient.  Just before Lenny's gold was to be transported back to them, however, a disastrous fire, coincidentally started by lightning, had decimated (consumed) half of the Under Secretary's mansion.

Though the gold in question was stored in that wing of the building that was completely gutted by the fire, it would still have been salvageable with a little effort once the rubble was cleared.  And lo and behold, when they managed that, they found that the entire lot had simply vanished without a trace.

Lamont had suspected that arson was merely a cover-up for a robbery affected by the cooperation of one or two of Lenny’s retinues (attendants).  However, his subsequent covert investigation failed to uncover least trace of incriminating evidence at the scene.  This proved that the thorough job was executed by a professional group’s backing; one capable and powerful enough to affect covert, illegal transaction of disposing of a hot item, one such great mass (heap) of gold.

“Yes,” Lamont sat in chair by the window, “in some ways Lenny Sukzor is still naive. I could have perhaps prevented his open ended (unrestricted, indefinite) investigation and spared him from all that dire trouble; for all the good it did.”   As it were, from the first moment Lamont had heard of the fire, he’d guessed there was a deeper plot at the crux of it all, and it wasn't hard for him to deduce just who, considering the open altercation at Court Lenny had had with Egil Viggoaries just the week before over that trivial matter, the perpetrator (executor) behind it all was.  The eunuch was most notorious for his spiteful (malicious), vindictive nature and his greed, and hardly anyone else had the power to get to Chief Inspector Yori.

“No, that wasn't it, at all. “The Prime Minister quickly dismissed that feeble basis from his overall hypothesis (theory). “There was far more at stake here.”

Knitting his brows, he inclined his head and digressed, reflected on how the Chief Inspector had been a competent, reliable officer ever since Lamont Gudaren had handpicked him for the position.  Up until the fire there had not been any cause, not even the slightest reason to question Yori's integrity or competence.  For eight years of diligent work, he had maintained an unblemished record to his credit but in the blink of an eye that had all changed when, despite the hints of arson, he’d refused to consider any notions of foul play and had persisted in contending in his otherwise meticulous report that it had been lightning that had caused the destruction to Lenny's property.  Of course, Yori was a man who relied solely upon solid evidence to draw his indisputable conclusions, and in this instance all the facts available pointed to lightning as being the cause of the destruction. 

There were no irregularities to warrant Yori's suspicion, what else could Lamont have expected of the man?  The Prime Minister had even asked himself what grounds he had to suspect the Chief Inspector.

“All right then,” the Prime Minister quietly conceded. “There must be another explanation for Yori's unsatisfactory (botched, bungled) investigation of Undersecretary Lenny Sukzor's case. “

 “Perhaps I'm being too harsh, too demanding of the man's ability?” For even his (Lamont’s) own team of experts had failed to prove otherwise; as with all the findings, all the clues had tallied perfectly with the Chief Inspector's original report.  But Lamont Gudaren was innately (instinctively) stubborn official; for countless hours hence, he had poured over both the reports himself, meticulously examining every detail, scrutinizing every recorded fact and, even though it all came to no avail (even he could not detect any irregularities, no suspected insertions, or a single dubious statements) still, he’d remained most insistent on his suppositions.

The more everything appeared to be above board, the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach prodded Lamont to dig deeper, to investigate all avenues, even the seemingly innocuous ones, to expose what, at present, stubbornly escaped all notice.

 “Some elusive, incriminating thread would eventually link things up.  His hunches had not failed him thus far and it was inconceivable that they would do so now.”

04- CHIEF INSPECTOR YORI

 In truth he’d been rather fond of Yori, as much as he could be of any subordinate.

Despite any proof, on a mere suspicion, Yori's life had been expediently forfeited, so coldly that, even now, the Prime Minister shuddered when he thought about it.

“But it couldn't be helped.”

 Lamont’d dreaded losing him but no sooner, unbidden; names of several possible successors had come to mind.  There was no shortage of competent men to replace him with.

Lamont clenched his fists and angrily turned his eyes away from the gingko tree to follow the tall intertwining hedges that skirted a winding pathway which snaked behind a man-made mountain. Going over, he quickly signed the other document he’d set aside. “There, it was done. Yori replacement would be Halsten Stig”

He stroked his beard, suddenly saddened by the thought of what must inevitably follow.

 Perhaps that fool Lenny had inadvertently, without malice, unleashed this series of events; but the Prime Minister still held him partially to blame.  Why couldn't he have been straight with Yori?  The proof of Yori's innocence had been obtained long after his accidental death.  All that could be done had been done for his wife and surviving child, to ease Lamont's conscience, and the financial burden was added to Lenny Sukzor's still unsettled account.

 Why should the Under Secretary be spared from the consequences of his actions?  All because, when Yori had asked to receive the statement of account of Lenny's losses, the missing gold had been purposefully withheld from the list.  Lenny had remained apprehensive about the idle gossip that could flame the belief that he had instigated arson himself to keep both his integrity and the gold.

“So, he feared above all that his impeccable, precious reputation should be tarnished.” Lamont disdainfully pursed his lips, reflecting on how the Undersecretary’s arrogance, for such a trifle, had wasted a good man's life. That, however, had been the one weakness that had rendered Lenny Sukzor vulnerable to him and at the same time, landed them both in deeper trouble.  At least that was what he had allowed the seeming consequence (upshot), to be generally known.  Fortunately, he had been awakened to the underhanded ploy of his nemesis who, also perceiving this weakness in Lenny; he had no doubt engineered the theft of the gold, not just to discredit the Under Secretary, but also to snare the Prime Minister as well, once Lamont had stuck out his neck for, in support of Lenny. And mistake number two; to extricate himself from this trouble, he had pushed his team to a more in-depth investigation into the case.

 

(END OF SECTION 4) 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 30

The subsequent day at daybreak, at the city-square in Denor city, many who’d secretly held Yenis Luko in contempt because of her hauteur airs (superciliousness), witnessed in delight her prompt, swift execution.

That same afternoon after a brief visit with the Luko family, the Prefect Micen Do had returned to his office to wrap up some pertinent official concerns.  Not stirring from his desk till dusk, Micen then had studiously poured over every key document to effectively suppress (censor) all loose ends.  Moreover, mindful of Zonar’s threat, Micen had deliberately shunned going home and instead, had kept busy in his heavily guarded office, to purge his mind of the persistent, unwelcome, frightful thoughts that lay just beneath the surface of his consciousness (subconscious mind).

01- MICEN AT OFFICE

Calling in his secretary Micen instructed him to make two copies of certain key documents by the following day and also that, to promptly relay a verbal message to a specific person.  As soon as he was dismissed, Micen laid (aside)down his writing implements, leaned back in his chair and stretched out his limbs.  Rubbing his temples to bring some relief, he then closed his eyes in a brief, weary respite from all that work.

A slight, creaking sound just then, however, nearly startled his spirit out of his body; sitting upright with rapt attention, Micen held his breath and glued his apprehensive gaze to the source of the noise.  From the passageway, now revealed behind the bookcase, a familiar form emerged.  Tall, cloaked completely in dark attire, face wrapped in an intricate  leather mask and carrying the noted stiletto (dagger) at his waist, the visitor stepped forward.

"Good, you're here." Micen steadied his heart to accost the other in slight annoyance.  "What kept you?"

"I responded to your bidding as soon as I was able to, Your Honor.", the cloaked figure ejected with a bow.  "The building is secured tighter than a drum, sir.  It took some time to get past the double sentry and arrive here without being seen."

 Micen was immensely pleased and felt somewhat more assured, more invincible.

 "In fact, I had arrived here sometime prior but, hearing voices in the room, I stayed concealed until I could ensure that Your Honor was alone.  I thought that this caution was warranted."

"All right," Micen conceded. "But, for Heaven's sake, take off that mask.  I feel as if I'm talking to some hoodlum.  Besides, you look utterly ridiculous in it."

"I beg to differ, sir.  I think it’s best I keep it on, in case someone barges in unannounced.  I am supposed to be elsewhere at this moment."

"None would dare.  Very well, have it your way." Micen conceded with a wave of his hand then drummed his fingers impatiently on his desk.  "Well?  You've wasted enough of my time.  Has everything been taken care of?"

"Perfectly, your Honor, all done according to your specifications down to the very last detail.  I can therefore foresee no complications.  After all, if I may be permitted to comment, your plan was most ingenious, sir.  There was one trifling exception which I took the liberty of covering up."

02- THE SPY

The cloaked figure drawing close, leaned to whisper the details into Micen's ear.  "Do I have your final approval on it, sir?"

"Affirmative…  The course you took was appropriate.  Right you are." Micen beamed in pleasure as the figure whispered more of the report to him.

 "Well, it seems you've covered every angle, even some I haven't thought of… Funny how I could have overlooked that one?  Yes, it could very well have spoiled everything.  As for the other problem you mentioned, you are being over-zealous, as usual."  Micen grimaced wryly and stroked his chin in thought.

 "I told you to leave that alone.  It's but a minor problem, not worth your bother.  In the unlikely event that it gets to be too much I can deal with it myself as easily as swatting a fly caught on a honeyed bun.  You can just concern yourself with your end."  The Prefect rose and, walking over, removed a small bundle from his locked wooden chest and handed it to the cloaked figure.  "You should be finding everything you'll need in here."

The other appeared hesitant.  "Don't worry; you'll be compensated for this later." Micen ejected coldly.

"Thank you, sir, but I was not suggesting payment.  Only that I wish there was an alternative.  Must he be destroyed as well?"

"Yes, we've discussed this earlier.  You know that no other course is available.  I'm well aware of your feelings in this matter, but I trust they won't hamper the success of your mission.  I expect positive results and tolerate nothing less.  Now go, you still have much to do before night is over."  With a wave of his hand, Micen dismissed the figure who swiftly disappeared back behind the same bookcase.

Just then a guard barged in, brandishing his sword.

"What's the meaning of this outrage?  How dare you rush in and startle me like that?" Micen exploded.

"Begging your pardon, Your Honor, but I thought I heard voices here and feared for your (safety) life.  You may have been in danger, because your orderly (personal Stuart) was with me, and I knew your secretary had already left the building."

"It’s most comforting to know you are on the alert and not asleep at your post."  Micen forced a smile to his lips as he reeled around his desk and sat himself in his chair.

 "However, as your own eyes can attest, sergeant, there is no intruder here, nor is my life in any danger."  Picking up a document he added, as if to himself, "I may have absentmindedly read out loud some passages to myself to check their construction, and that's what you’ve heard."  He raised his head and ordered, "You may return to your post now."

As the guard, apologizing for his intrusion, turned on his heels to leave at once, another appeared at the door.

"May I come in, sir?"

"What is it now?"  Angrily Micen slammed the document he was holding down on the desk and glowered at the Head Bailiff.  "I thought I'd left strict instructions not to be disturbed.  You had better have a good reason for this, Hecun.  Why have you left your post?  Who's supervising the prisoner's guards in your absence?"

"Mouro, sir, and it’s on his directive, that I've been sent here to obtain your permission to recall the off-duty men, in anticipation of an attack by Zonar, when he attempts to free the prisoner."

"What of the men that you have already?  Are they all incapable of stopping one lone wolf?  Besides, the prison compound is impenetrable.  It’s more likely that the attempt will be made while on route to the Capital.  Tell Mouro to stop wasting my time.  You have your orders, Captain."

03- HEAD BAILIFF HECUN

 As Hecun was about to take his leave, Micen called him back.  "Still, it wouldn't hurt to take added precautions.  All right, you have my permission to increase the contingent and tell Mouro that, since he's so concerned, he may as well lock Fradel Rurik Korvald up in the mobile iron cage from tonight on.  But first, go fetch the physician Sullen so he can treat the prisoner's wounds; it would not do to have Fradel Rurik Korvald prematurely expire in transit."

"Yes, sir, but as I was leaving to come here, I heard Mouro dispatching someone, to bring back the physician, already."

That wouldn't surprise me, at all, if Mouro had conceived of the precaution I'm now considering.  It’s just like him to pre-empt my next move. Micen grumbled under his breath, cupping his chin as he pondered further.

 Looking up, he said, "Tell Mouro that, as soon as the prisoner is secured, he's to report to me for further instruction.  And, Captain, instead of Yoki, I've decided that you should be the officer in charge of the transport of the prisoner to Tenzo Province tomorrow.  When you return, turn over your duties to sergeant Cuinn and get yourself some well-earned rest.  I want to see you in my office at sunrise.  You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir…  Thank you, sir."  Hecun promptly left the room, his heart filled with misgivings.

That night the entire law enforcement (police) men remained on full alert, awaiting the expected assault from Zonar.

 Much to their relief this did not manifest and by daybreak many questioned aloud, while stretching their limbs, the veracity of the stranger's threat.  Fradel Rurik Korvald, already locked up in the well-guarded, restrictive mobile iron cage, was given absolutely no chance to escape.                                                                                  

                                                                                           ~

 

In the small hours of the night, by Micen's orders, Mouro and two able assistants were dispatched ahead of time to ride on ahead and reach Tenzo Province post haste.

Mouro was instructed to see Magistrate Rue of Cheabirger Prefecture and entrust him with the official papers of indictment, Prefect Micen Do's letter in which he laid out the delicacies of this case and asked his full cooperation, and a sealed envelope in which he was told were contained Fradel Rurik Korvald's identity papers and the Imperial Summons. Of course, Mouro also carried the key to the cage's lock.  After overseeing the successful transfer of the prisoner to Magistrate Rue's jurisdiction and further transport towards the Capital, Mouro was to make haste to report back to Micen Do.

This precaution was deemed necessary by the Prefect in the unlikely event that the escort group and prisoner were intercepted by Zonar along the less-traveled route they were to take.  Even if Zonar was to be successful in securing (gaining) Fradel's freedom, the prisoner could not enter the capital without the papers.  A delay on the Scholar’s part in responding to the summons would incur the wrath of His Highness and, wherever he was, Fradel Rurik Korvald would certainly be made to suffer the consequences of his freedom.

If there was no trouble from Zonar on the road, the means of transport itself would provide Micen with his next most viable alternative.  Fradel's grave wounds and the rough action of the cage on the road would ascertain his demise just after he was transferred into custody of Magistrate Rue.  It would become the problem of the other prefecture.  Micen could hardly be faulted for his precautions in view of the threats that Zonar had issued before all in court that day.

 On the other hand, if Magistrate Rue contested Micen's precautions and averted assuming full responsibility for the prisoner's demise, then Hecun could easily be sacrificed as the scapegoat.  All blame could rest with him, and he would be charged for his negligence in the transport of the prisoner.

Though Head Bailiff Hecun was seen by Micen as a thorn in his flesh, easily expandable, Hecun, properly deceived, had been led to believe that he had been selected for this task because of his impeccable record and invaluable skills. Furthermore, he had been assured that a promotion awaited him on the successful completion of this duty.

Hecun had accepted the package of documents he was given, in blind faith, as the originals and truly believed that Fradel's identity papers and summons were in his safe keeping on the journey.

 Ignorant of the conspiracy set against him, Hecun had expressed gratitude to Mouro, when latter (the other) feigning friendship, had secretly confided to the bailiff about his separate dispatch on another urgent, highly confidential errand, the delivery of the cage's key to Magistrate Rue and the briefing of the official on the details of the case.  And instead of being alarmed, Hecun had, approving of this precautionary measure, thanked Mouro for his candor and promised to repay his kindness (favor) at a later opportunity.

                                                                                      ~

 (END OF SECTION 30)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 23

 

The mayhem (great pandemonium) of the crowds, meanwhile, kept on going long after they had gushed outside; running, running, until they collapsed or found refuge at the nearby food stands or teahouses where they (with tongues wagging) then began to spread the fantastic, hair-raising stories about the stranger Zonar and their brush with death.  By noon, Zonar's name and accompanying rumors had spread like wildfire to the farthest corners of the Prefecture.

The account of this fiery red-haired giant was tattooed on everyone's tongue and, by then, his features had become greatly exaggerated.  He was described as being well over fifteen feet in height instead of just seven, endowed with flaming, snakelike hair, flashing eyes and having a red reptilian tongue; he was also said to have the jagged, sharp teeth of a predator protruding from his purple lips, and all of this was framed (held) by a demonic dark azure (cerulean, cobalt) face.

01- Zonar's exaggerated image

Many claimed he possessed the supernatural power to command thunder, lightning and fire, and many also attested that he had the combined strength of a thousand men.  His single, menacing gaze had turned the bailiffs sent to apprehend him and everyone else in the courtroom to stone.  He had cast an evil spell which prevented people from moving a single muscle, or even blinking an eyelid, until he had had his say, then had called down a bolt of lightning which threatened to reduce the Prefect's court to cinders and, riding away upon it, had disappeared without a trace.  This was truly a supernatural phenomenon. 

They uttered gratitude to their protective deities at this point for having escaped such a catastrophe, hoping, praying that they would never lay eyes on such a monster or his like ever again.  They swore with subsequent conviction that the accused Fradel Rurik Korvald was in league with the evil forces and, therefore, was the one responsible for conjuring up this demon to scare the prefect into dismissing the case just when things had gone the worse for him.

"I hope His Honor won't be dissuaded from passing proper judgment on this villain." one of them sounded out his concern above the general hubbub.

"But first", another chimed in, "he had best call up the priests to properly exorcise the courtroom and rid the place of all evil influences before rendering the death sentence on this culprit, Fradel what's-his-name."  All nodded in concurrence.

"Too bad His Excellency, Provincial Governor Shuri, is indisposed," two, better informed, rabble (Arland and Bryner) whispered among themselves, off to the side of the crowd.  "Until the new Governor is installed in the post, Prefect Micen Do must bear the full burden of his final decision himself, bereft of guidance and protection from his superior."

"That could still take several months.  I certainly do not envy him now," the better dressed of the two, Arland, commented wryly.  "Just the same, I hope for my own sake that he proves up to the task."

"What do you have to worry about?  You're only related to him by a distant marriage," his close confident Bryner countered.  "Even if he fouls it up, your family won't be involved."

"That may be, but Micen's gotten in too deep with the Lukos.  If there is ever an investigation..."

"I hear what you are saying.  Their tentacles have spread exceedingly far.  Secret blather (rumor, natter) has it, even in this matter with Yenis; they lost no time sending their agents off to the Prefecture to dispense gold among our various officials and functionaries.  It's virtually assured that the prefect will arrive at the desired guilty verdict of Yenis and this scholar Fradel.  I understand his conviction, after all he is an alleged murderer, but why do you suppose the Lukos are so intent on ridding themselves of her?  Unless, unless they're trying to cover up something even more sinister."

"You're not hinting at that malicious gossip (hearsay) of a supposed illicit affair between Yenis and Shuri, are you?  I thought that matter had been settled (suitably resolved) long ago. Besides, weren’t they both exonerated from all suspicion and blame?"

"Who said so?" Bryner gave a meaningful smile.

"What is it that you know?"  Their natter (chat, gossip) had taken them away from the main crowd.

"Why don't you fill me in on those salacious details over a drink?" the Micen Do's relative Arland grinned, as he tapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Why not…  Just who am I protecting anyway?  Besides, all this talk has made me rather thirsty."

02-   ARLAND AND BRYNER

"What say you, we, stroll over to Tries Lane and ride those fillies in the Zhexi Tea-House, while you tell me all about it then?  It will be entirely my treat."

"You're too generous.  But you must allow me to pick first this time, you always get the best looking one for yourself."

"It's not my fault that I'm more handsome than you…Ha, ha."

"More handsome… the weight of your purse has nothing to do with it, I suppose., Ha, ha haa!"

As Arland and Byner’s forms gradually retreated into the distance, the (amassed) crowd was still engaged in a heated discussion.

The question of Fradel's guilt or innocence was of no consequence to anyone now, especially since the matter had been dwarfed by this new, supernatural threat.  Even those exceptional, intelligent few that, prior to Zonar's appearance, had decided on Fradel's innocence and had favored his release were now being swept up by the momentum of the crowd's ugly sentiments.

At safe distance from court, as the size of the congregated crowd swelled, many anxious to show off their particular expertise in this matter, embraced the chance (in lively animation) to elaborate on the various ways of disposing the evil corpse: the most expedient way of doing it, after decapitation, is by digging out the entrails of headless corpse before committing both to fire ( incineration), or, by some other specific methods ( of discarding Fradel's remains according to the Ancient Ways: The segregated parts of the body, the flesh, bones, entrails and head must all be consumed by holy fires under proper religious supervision before the accused’s’ ashes be cast into various cesspools for the eternal damnation.) This would permanently eliminate any future threat from the perchance(possibly) resurrected evil corpse.

                                                                               ~

Meanwhile, back in his private quarters, Prefect Micen Do, in a foul mood, had for hours paced the floor nervously back and forth, all the while neglecting to take tea or lunch and refusing to see anyone before he finally settled down to review Fradel's case documents.

Unlike the ignoramuses in the crowd, however, he did not believe in this superstitious nonsense even though, in collusion with the local priests, he had often enough encouraged them in the populous in order to reap the benefits of their ignorance.  Rather, his anxiety was born from the clear understanding that Fradel Rurik Korvald was now under the protection of an able assassin, perhaps even a coconspirator that had thus far eluded his guards.

As things stood now, Micen found himself on the horns of a terrible dilemma; on the one hand, there was the powerful Luko family, insisting on justice and pressuring him to settle this case quickly, on the other was this serious threat to his own life from that formidable stranger and his deadline of three days to free Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Prefect Micen felt constrained to appease the Luko Clan since he had graciously, perhaps unwisely, accepted their substantial donations and gifts but, as in the past, he could no longer shield himself under Shuri's arbitrary decisions, which he could always manipulate into accordance with his own.

Micen Do again nervously paced the floor to and for.

He knew all too well, even if he was to do Zonar's bidding he must do it in a most underhanded way.  In order to preserve his prestige, he could not afford to appear intimidated by just one stranger, or even by a hundred like him.

“Things were sure a lot easier when I worked hand-in-glove with Shuri, but he had to go and offend the Censorate Hagu.  And I warned him about Hagu, too!”   Micen, abruptly stayed his footing as he reflected, and dismally shook his head.

“Who knows what kind of person this new Governor is?  Zuyi?  Zuyi?  I know practically nothing about him.  I suppose I'll have to wait and see when he gets here, then I can feel him out good and proper, till I know just what makes him tick.”

He had upsent mindedly stopped by the window to gaze distractedly at the view outside.  The inner courtyard was virtually barren with the exception of a few, sickly Scholar Trees beside an impressive man-made mountain and a cluster of flowers newly planted off to the side of the stone bridge. The flowers had all bent their heads, wilting pathetically, which depressed Micen still more.

 He had taken great pains to have this garden constructed just right but nothing seemed to grow, let alone thrive, in that cursed soil.  He had hired and fired so many gardeners and horticulturists he had lost count.

His eyes just then rested on the small pond by the bridge.  Oh well, at least the carp are thriving.  With a shrug of his shoulders, he went over and plumped himself into his well-padded chair. 

First and foremost, he knew he had to ascertain his subordinate, Ashrath's, claim about Fradel Rurik Korvald.

"Now, where are the devils of those papers?"  He frantically searched through the pile, digging them up from the bottom, and examined them, this time with greater care.  Taking the trouble now to unfasten the envelope containing Fradel's summons before the emperor, what he read there drained all the color from his face and caused his heart to skip a beat.

 “So, he was telling the truth after all.  I thought he was merely boasting.” 

Micen inwardly cursed that cowardly Magistrate for not perfunctorily resolving this sticky situation and having Fradel murdered in transport then blaming it on the renegade bandits.

As he perused over Fradel's sworn disposition, Micen was forced to concede the scholar's brilliance.

 Again, reviewing the recorded testimonies and the case documents, he now saw to his greater dismay that, other than the knife found at the scene, there was no real, solid evidence on which to convict Fradel of murder and robbery.  The adulterous affair with Yenis and his collusion with her in the murder were all pure conjecture and solely based on the testimony of the woman, an established liar.

“I suppose I'll have to have these contradictory statements of Latham and Hacket patched up before they're sent on to the Capital.  Still, I'm rather baffled.” He frowned.

“What earthly reason would these two have for giving false evidence, I wonder?  What is it that they are trying to cover up?  Oh, never mind.”  After a moment's pause, he dismissed the thought.  “I can clear this up later, when I can be discreet.  If I do it right, I may even be able to curry still extra favors from them.  That would be more profitable than just exposing them.  They can certainly afford it.” He wrung his hands imagining these riches already in his grasp.

Next reviewing Yenis's confession from beginning to end, he again paused.

“I find this most puzzling.  Why, at death's door, would she have to gain, what is her motive, for framing Fradel Rurik Korvald?  Surely, it's not because she still wishes to protect the identity of her real lover; not after he, so heartlessly abandoned her?  Or did he?  What grudge could she possibly bear this scholar that she insists on spinning such tales in order to snare him in a capital offense?”  Stroking his beard, Micen mused.

“Had the two encountered Fradel in their flight and Fradel, disposing of her lover, had later, as she claimed, forced his violent attentions upon her?  That certainly could be one plausible explanation for it.  Still, this Fradel hardly strikes me as one who could become infatuated with her.  I can't pinpoint it, but there is something definitely odd about him.  It’s as if he's come from another time.  Perhaps it’s his indifference to pain, to life, to law?  Whatever it is, it totally escapes me.  When I examined him during the trial, what was it I detected in his eyes?  Yes, indifference, perhaps contempt and curiously, pity… yes, pity?  This is most peculiar and irregular, but not a shred of lust.  It's unfortunate that his servants, as he claimed, were lost during that sudden storm while crossing the Mulor River, that I can believe, I know how treacherous those waters can be.” Micen shifted in his seat.

03- YENIS

“I'd rather not inflict torture on one as beautiful as she, Yenis… unfortunately, as things stand; she's my only means of getting at the truth. Hmm, as for Fradel Rurik Korvald, good riddance to him, I say!" Micen scoffed, already having resolved to absolve the scholar of both the charges of murder and robbery once the woman's confession was wrung from her by torture.  “That certainly would be a lot less trouble than explaining why I convicted him. 

Of course, this means I'll have to produce the real culprit or, preferably, his corpse in order to wrap up the case.”

“Confound it!” his face darkening; Micen slammed his fist on the desk. “He's still guilty of the trespassing law!  This charge won't be so easy to dispose of, since it has already been disclosed to that imbecile of a Magistrate Turo, his entire staff and half the population of this Prefecture.” 

Fingering the indictment papers and documents from Turo he pondered, “For once the cursed fool has done a proper job of it, too.  The proof is indisputable.”

“Great; I'm sunk either way.” Micen again squirmed on his chair, nervously scratching his head to relieve the sudden tightness of his scalp. This fresh quandary unleashed a throbbing headache that could not be so easily rid.

“The punishment set for trespassing is decreed by His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek and can only be rescinded by His Majesty.  The death verdict, then, it must be.  Yet, even if I double my guards and ensure my safety from this threat by the assassin, how can I put to death one that is expected for an audience at the Imperial Court, and carries a warrant of (regardless) safe passage from His Majesty?“ Micen let his gaze linger on the summons, placed just to the side.

“While upholding one ruling, I'll be forced to violate another!” 

The feeling of dread mounted in his heart compounded his urgent dilemma (sticky situation); in a state of intense agitation, he suddenly sprang to his feet and began pacing to and fro.  As he did this, he deliberated on his options, while animatedly sawing (cutting) the air with his hand.

“The importance of this prisoner, alone, still constrains me, in the absence of the Governor, to consult with the Legal Office of the Board of Punishments before rendering a final decision.  Yet, waiting for instructions could prove detrimental, even disastrous, since the lack of time precludes my waiting during any such action.  I must act responsibly at once.  What to do?  What to do?”

Prefect Micen Do (for hours on end) continued to wear down the carpet in serious contemplation until, spreading his hands out before him, helplessly, he (arrived at) reached the only plausible option (resolve):

“Fradel Rurik Korvald, (with suspended or pending guilty sentence,) under heavily armed guards’ custody, in all due haste, must be transported to the Capital Channing. Of course, with the official letter of explanation and all the amended trial documents accompanying him, Fradel could then be tried in Capital by the Legal Office itself, after the scholar's mandatory audience with His Majesty.

There remained only one snag (hindrance) to this otherwise perfect resolve:

 On route, should the prisoner escape custody because of interference from that formidable, red-haired devil-assassin or, band of ruffians, Micen could then be accused of incompetence in addition to his brutal treatment of the accused while the scholar was held in custody under his jurisdiction.

“Could I make amends by fairer treatment of him now?  Not likely,” MIcen shook his head.

“Everyone knows how these pampered literati sort, carry lasting grudges over slightest indiscretions. After my mistreatment of him, I am certain not to be spared of his wrath.

It’s certain that, once in Capital Channing, Fradel Rurik Korvald would use his influence on first secure pardon from His Majesty, after all, being a stranger to these parts, why wouldn’t such a valuable literate be absolved, for his ignorance, of a twenty-year-old trespassing law? This attained, he would then devise the means to beget (effect) my downfall.  In light of this, if I were to enable him a safe passage to Channing, wouldn’t I be hastening my own destruction or, at best, live the rest of my life in fear of the impending reprisals (retaliation) from his elite, powerful associates?”

“Hmm….  I would be much better off if this Fradel were to expire on the route to the Capital and... Fail to... meet... his... summons.  Yes!  Why the hell not!  Especially if he were to meet his demise after crossing into Tenzo Province…Ha!  His death would then become their problem. “

Prefect Micen gloated in self-satisfaction, sitting down once more to lean back confidently in his seat.

Success was dependent however on cunning strategy to effectively curtail or prevent any interference from the fiery red-haired menace.

Infuriatingly, another encumbrance (hitch) just then came to mind and Micen impatiently drummed his fingers on the desk, until he satisfactorily resolved (dealt with) this aspect. Even so, he was bit antsy about taking Mouro, (the best candidate for the job), into his confidence but unfortunately, both Zuko and Ro had suddenly expired last month, leaving Micen bit short of competent confidants.

04- MOURO KERR

“I wonder…can he be entirely trusted?  He has proven invaluable to me in the past, still; the gravity of this case constrains me to exercise utmost caution.  After all, I can't be too careful. I'll screen him first. “Micen made a mental note to allay (dispel) his fears.

Having resolved this hurdle also, he relaxed and lazily stretched his arms; his appetite regained, he called out to his orderly to bring him some tea and pastries.

 "Oh, and send a word to Mouro that I wish to see him at once." Micen, in afterthought, ordered. The orderly nodded in compliance and quickly withdrew.

 Micen Do rose confidently and strode over to the window.  Casting his gaze onto the withering Scholar trees he mused aloud, "I should have chopped them down and replaced them.  Perhaps some common poplars would be better?"   A sinister smile (smirk) visibly just then smeared his lips.

 

                                                                                       ~

(END OF SECTION 23)