LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 27

One warm, starry night, when everyone had retired early, Fradel's keen senses awakened him to the intruder creeping into the stillness of his cabin.  Earlier, he had opened the porthole and drawn the curtains aside to take full advantage of the soft breeze.  The silvery moonlight streamed unobstructed into the tiny space, illuminating everything perfectly.  In the center of the room the long, narrow blade of the dagger (short sword) winked as the intruder, sensing danger, had halted, and glanced warily about. 

01- THE ASSASSIN

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) waited with bated breath for him to recommence (continue, resume) his advance or, to be stopped altogether.  He did not wish to act at once and apprehend the intruder himself for he had noted that, some time prior to this, Tizan had crept into his room and concealed himself in a dark corner.  He would wait and see what Tizan would do first.

The intruder, having steadied his heart and regulated his breathing once again, stole further across the room, quietly making his way to the bed.  Fradel felt the slight pressure of the tip of the cold blade against his naked flesh and held his breath.

 What is Tizan waiting for?  At that instant he saw his assailant viciously yanked back by his hair and, simultaneously, another dagger appeared at the intruder's own throat.

"Drop your weapon!" Tizan's commanding voice hissed.  "I said drop it!"

Perhaps out of bravado or out of sheer fright the attacker hesitated.  Then the pressure of the blade against his own throat increased and he winced as its razor edge pricked the flesh beneath his chin.

"All right… All right" The Assailant groaned, as a single drop of blood trickled off his neck to fall on Fradel's cheek.

Fradel pretended to have been startled awake just then and froze, wide eyed and perfectly still, as if petrified by fright.

The assailant, grunting, let loose his grip and the dagger dropped; for he instinctively knew,  that had he held on to it for one second longer, it would have meant the termination of his life.  Before he could buy some more time and use his glib tongue to strike a bargain, however, he was viciously yanked free of Fradel and hurled across the cabin.

Then he was picked up once more by Tizan's single hand grabbing his collar (lapel) and shoved against the wall.  The dagger's tip was once more pressed threateningly to his throat.

"You wouldn't dare kill me." The assailant groaned.

Fradel recognized the voice.  Sitting up, he craned his neck to see the face.

"Don't be so sure, Doku." Tizan glowered as he broke the captain's skin with the blade.  "You were a fool to drop your sails and cast anchor in mid-stream.  Did you think that we wouldn't notice?"  Tizan laughed coldly and widened the cut he had made, making Doku wince (cringe).  Blood flowed freely down onto Doku's chest where it painted streaks of crimson on his shirt.

Doku's face twitched with anxiety and contempt.  He clenched his fists as his chest rose and fell.  “Who’d manage (steer) the vessel?  Besides, you won't get far if you kill me.  Release me at once!" He threatened as his eyes contemptuously trailed Fradel, who had gotten up from the bed to put some clothes on.

"Oh, you mean your accomplices Zuak and Yoru?  By now, they're fish-fodder." Tizan grinned venomously.

A small shudder passed through Doku as he resisted the complete surrender of all hope; subsequently, he misinterpreted Tizan's broad, disarming smile and became somewhat encouraged. Dropping his eyes, he said, "Can't we work something out, something mutually advantageous?"  

All the same, bitterness had tinged his voice, repudiating (contradicting) his sincerity. "I have been paid most handsomely.  I'll gladly share half of it with you."

02- TZAN JP

Tizan's face crinkled in an expression of utter disgust.  The threat was most implicit in his silence, then, baring his teeth in a snarl, he Yanked Doku up by the hair.  "Let's move, swine." he hissed.  “Captain Zunrogo wants a few words with you."

Doku gasped, closed his eyes, and resisted being moved.  In a shaking, but somewhat defiant voice he entreated.  "There must be something negotiable for…? All right, all right, you can have it all. “Subsequently, the sheer terror registering in Doku’s eyes, he just squealed, “No, I won't go… be done with me right here and now."

"Don't tempt me."  Tizan Yanked the blade away at the same instant he twisted Doku's arm to his back, straining it to the breaking point then fiercely pushed him outside.

Desperate to break free, Doku pretended to lose his footing, falling face down to the floor; meanwhile, his free hand swiftly removed a hook he had concealed in his belt, and he turned to viciously strike out at Tizen.  But Tizan had seen through this ruse and, with a swift kick at the hook, he catapulted it out of Doku's hand towards the ceiling, where it embedded itself securely in the wooden beam.  As he dodged the next kick, in one fluid motion, Tizen next threw a powerful punch, and Doku (almost senseless) fell back onto the deck.

 "Get up, swine!" Tzen grunted as he landed Doku with a fierce kick to the side; then, grasping Doku’s neck with one hand, he hauled him up onto his feet and pinning his own face less than an inch from Doku, threatened. "You try another stunt like that, and I'll slice you up into mincemeat.  You get me?"  His warning (intimidation) was wasted, however, on the insensate (numbed, inert) Doku.  Grasping once more the limp body with the hair, Tzen dragged it down the hall to Zunrogo's cabin.

Revived to face Zunrogo's fierce, menacing stare, Doku swallowed dryly and dropped to his knees at once.  Fear had tightened his stomach into a hard knot and his head throbbed terribly.  None the less, he was a survivor.  Clenching his fists to stop his shivering, he finally managed to whisper his plea, "Spare me, good sir.  You are law abiding, Imperial Officer; famed for your apt command (supervision, control).  You would not kill an innocent man without first hearing out the circumstances by which he was force into committing this criminal infraction.  May the God of the River strike me dead if I'm lying?  Never have I strayed from the path of truth and righteousness.  Truly, I was forced into it."

His lips trembled, slurring his words, "They are holding my beloved father and son hostage, threatening to chop them into a thousand pieces if I do not do their bidding.  I had no other choice.  My poor wife was already lost to me because of the fever that swept through the region after the floods.  Oh, what will my aged, senile mother do if I am lost too?  Who will take care of her?  Take pity on me, sir.  Spare me so that I can assist you in avenging this terrible wrongdoing.  Give me this one chance to make amends for my mistake."

"Shut up!"  Tizan had lost his patience and, with the pommel of his dagger, delivered a fierce blow to Doku's mouth.  "You miserable wretch, how dare you insult us with your cliché-ridden tirade!"

Spitting out his broken teeth, Doku looked up to entreat the Imperial captain.

"Who?" Zunrogo dourly barked.

Seeing the baffled look on Doku's face Tizan bellowed, "Who hired you to kill the scholar, you stupid shit?"

"I'm not sure." Doku answered then raised the back of a trembling hand to lessen the impact on his face from Tizan's next fierce blow.

Zunrogo waved Tizan away.  "If you do not cooperate fully, I cannot guarantee your safety." He threw a meaningful glance at Tizan and then addressed Doku sternly but with softer tone.  "Now before I lose my patience, I shall ask you this just once more: Who?"

"I don't know!  I honestly don't know!" Doku cried out as he hugged his knees.  "Please, sir, the man who engaged me remained anonymous.  He told me that he was acting on behalf of someone very important and he offered me so much money that I dared not refuse.  He said I had best go along with their wishes, but he did not divulge his name, any names.  He assured me that the scholar was someone of no consequence.  He said it was just a personal vendetta.  That's what I was led to believe.  I'll gladly relinquish all the gold to you, sir.  The entire sum is locked inside the wooden chest, in my cabin.  Take it, take it all.  Just spare my life."

"How dare you insult the captain with your feeble bribe?"  Infuriated, Tizan brutally yanked the prisoner to his feet and hurled him into the corner.  "You think we care anything at all about a paltry pittance that could buy a scum like you?  Think again.  You've had your chance." spitting out the words, Tizan lumbered threateningly towards the broken husk in the corner.

Doku discovered, to his great dismay, that he could not move his left leg at all and that his right arm, unnaturally positioned, twitched a little, yet throbbed with agonizing pain.  Stars danced Infront of his eyes and his head hammered (pounded) something fierce; moreover, his temple (forehead) bearing a huge lump, was sore to his slightest touch.  Fear and adrenaline alone kept him from losing consciousness.  As Tizan bent over him, Doku's face was torn in sheer terror and his eyes moved frantically about in their sockets.  He knew that he would be done for if he did not confess immediately.

"All right,” he wrenched the words out, stuttering through his broken teeth, "it was L...L... Lance Dios...Diostin’s man w... who..."

“Lance Diostin?"  Tizan turned to look slyly at Zunrogo.  "You are not telling us anything we do not already know, Doku." he snarled, his eyes burning into the man's face.

Doku's eyes filled with incomprehension.  "Then...what...what do you want me to say?"

"How many?” Zunrogo, turning, curtly demanded, his expression unchanged.

“How many,” Doku sounded the words, utterly stupefied (confused).

Tizan grasping Doku by the collar yanked Doku up to hold him two feet above the floor.  He could hear the shattered bones and muscle shift back into place and saw Doku's eyes roll back as the wave of pain hit.  “You heard the captain, how many?" Tizan barked into Doku’s face.

03- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 24

"Let him be."  Zunrogo’s stern order was promptly obeyed as Doku’s broken(beaten) body was instantly dropped to crash (smash) against the hard floor.

"Speak frankly and I may spare you."  The captain rose and sauntered to the porthole, his back towards the prisoner.

"I don't know.  How can I?  All right, all right.  Just keep him away from me.", Doku shrunk back from Tizan in pure fear.  "I'll speak."

At Zunrogo's signal, Tizan took a step back then began to slowly pace back and forth in front of Doku.

"He said something about a platoon, eight or twelve maybe." Doku started to volunteer.  In a matter of minutes, on just perceived threat from Tizan, the rest poured out (gushed) from the mortified, badly bruised Doku’s mouth.

 When Doku had finished telling him all he knew, Zunrogo turned and nodded to Tizan, then went back to sit down once more.

Tizan halted his pacing and turned menacingly to Doku, "Do you know what the apt (fitting) punishment for treasonous curs like you are?"

Doku's eyes bulged out in fright as Tizan spat out the word, "Impalement."

Horrified, he turned to implore Zunrogo, "But sir, you promised to spare me if I told you everything. Ayii…"  His pleas were muffled (stifled, muted) as the strong left hand of Tizan gripping his neck (throat) and lifted him up high, Doku’s feet thence (thereafter), dangling like a puppet in the air.

"Don't bother Captain Zunrogo.  You're dealing with me, now."  Tizan tightened his grip, looking into Doku's eyes with a sinister grin.

Doku squirmed in pain as his eyes implored, "Please… For Heaven’s sake, no!"

"Oh, you are so pale.  Did you think that I was about to finish you off?  Yet you must be spared.  The captain promised you that and the captain's orders must be obeyed; I'm bound by that.  So, I must spare you for attempting to kill the scholar.  You will not die for that crime."  For a second, Tizan looked perplexed, as if wanting to kill Doku yet unable to do so.

New hope flourished once more in Doku's heart, as well, tears of relief and gratitude manifested (formed) in the corners of his eyes, anticipating the release from the vice of Tizan's grip.

"Yes, spared…Spared of the extreme death penalty!” Tizan’s icy, sinister tone quickly dashed all hope.  “Still, you did betray your master after taking his gold, and we cannot let that go unpunished, can we?"  Tizan's pupils suddenly hardened as he threw his head back and laughed.  The next instant, a savage glint flashed in Tizan’s eyes, and his right hand at lightning speed thrust the long blade of the dagger into Doku's chest (into upper abdomen) just below the ribcage; left hand’s grasp now released, Doku was hauled up, suspended solely on the dagger’s blade.

Tizan, with a contemptuous grin, in one fluid motion yanked the blade out and allowed the lifeless body to collapse at his feet.

"You've had your fun, now get rid of that mess." Zunrogo's icy tone cut short Tizan's gloating.

"Yes, sir," he responded smartly (briskly) then, grinning, he shouldered the corpse and headed towards the door to throw the body overboard.

Just then the door swung open and Fradel Rurik Korvald, now fully dressed, strode in.  Witnessing the pitiful state of Doku's mangled corpse, Fradel's teeth clenched in anger and his eyes filled with loathing.  He'd had just about enough of Tizan's brutality.

Glaring at Tizan, he nevertheless curtailed his wrath and halted his yen, to strike (pin) down this vile beast with one blow.

Zunrogo, the familiar, cruel half smile on his lips, noted with amusement how Fradel Rurik Korvald's face had fleetingly said what could not be uttered in words.  The stand-off ended abruptly when, Fradel seemingly deciding Tizan was not worth the effort, pushed disdainfully past him.

Putting on a slight grin, Zunrogo rose to his feet to greet the scholar congenially.

Fradel sternly asked, "Was this slaughter (murder) necessary?”

Fradel Rurik Korvald's stare was unflinching, his features set and defiant. “Or is it simply that you reap measure of satisfaction seeing men suffer at the hand of your lapdog?”  He turned to look contemptuously at Tizan.

Tizan, in his raw response, gripped his dagger tighter and took a menacing step towards Fradel Rurik Korvald then, meeting the captain's stern look, stayed his advance.

04- TZAN JP

"My, oh my, put a sheep in a lion's pelt and watch how he bleats." Tizan hissed through clenched teeth as he turned back to the door and briskly walked outside before Zunrogo could reprimand him.

 In truth, from the very start, Tizan’s interaction (dealings) with Fradel Rurik Korvald had been strained, finding it extremely hard to be so congenial or diplomatic in any sort of exchange.

Despite repeated admonitions from the Captain, Tizan’s resentment, of Fradel Rurik Korvald in fact, of his pampered, privileged literati sort, had been such that it shone through his every word and action, despite his efforts to conceal it.

Zunrogo's face had darkened in fury, witnessing this, not so subtle retort from Tizan; nevertheless, constraining himself, he offered Fradel Rurik Korvald his abject apologies for Tizan's insubordination, promised future dire reprimand then, with seemingly infinite patience, invited the scholar to be seated.  When Fradel (somewhat reluctantly) complied, Zunrogo expressed his further regret for the unavoidable, unpleasant experience that the scholar had had suffered this very night, which had obviously traumatized him.  The underlying tone implicit in his words, however, made it clear that he would overlook Fradel's disruptive behavior this once, and this once only, out of consideration for Fradel Rurik Korvald's delicate constitution.  Further interruptions would not be tolerated, despite the scholar's importance.

 Zunrogo's decorum and his conciliatory (mollifying, assuaging) words nevertheless, at the outset had constrained Fradel to adopt akin peaceful (calmer) composure, one more in keeping with the manners of his pseudo identity, and, in turn, he extended his apologies for his outburst and thanked Zunrogo for his tolerance and due vigilance.

Placated, Zunrogo leaned back in his seat, drew a long breath then firmly explained in a measured tone, "In accordance with military law, Doku had to be caught red-handed before we could prosecute then, swiftly penalize him.  I assure you, sir, at no time were you in any danger from him or from his accomplices.  As you well know, your safety is of prime importance to me.  You called this (method of investigation), a vigilante act but, in fact, I have been more than tolerant (charitable, lenient, patient)."  He held up his hand to stay Fradel's response, smiling wryly, and then continued, "As you are well aware, we have been tailed by a certain vessel for a period of time now.  I had suspected but have only now irrefutably confirmed that this vessel is commanded by Lance Diostin who, by all accounts, is not one to be taken lightly.  You see, he has a strong backing; he has also an unblemished reputation for being impeccable in strategy and, even in his youth, being invincible in hand-to-hand combat.  Moreover, his skill with the sword is second only to His Excellency Egil Viggoaries.  I had hoped that, to spare you undue anxiety, we would outrun him until we could enlist some more help.  Alas, Captain Doku, by casting anchor here, where the current is weaker and the river shallower, has forced our hand.”

Without strong winds we have no means of putting (gaining) some distance between us and our pursuer; hence, we have been left with no other choice but to meet his challenge head on."

“Why do you persist in this charade?”  Fradel masked his annoyance under a polite smile.  “You wish me to believe otherwise but, in truth, and without Doku's ever knowing it, you have sanctioned his every move since we came aboard this boat.”

"Your acumen (tact, judgment, prudence) is most commendable, Captain, it is always advisable never to underestimate one's opponent, however competent one may be.  Yet in the case of Captain Doku, surely nothing would have escaped your scrutiny." 

The slight admonishment in Fradel's tone made his underlying message clear: “I am offended sir that you should choose, once more, not to be forthright with me.”

"You flatter me, sir." Zunrogo smiled sheepishly and relented.  "To be frank, we were forewarned from the start of Doku's objective, but I allowed him certain leeway in order to gain a strategic advantage.  You see, despite my hopes, a confrontation with Lance Diostin was inevitable and it was best that it occurred in mid-stream, under more manageable circumstances, rather than some busy port ahead.  In this way I could minimize the danger to you, cut Lance Diostin off from any reinforcements he might have had hidden in the next port, and thirdly, minimize the unavoidable loss of innocents ‘life that might be caught in the fray.”

"It’s most considerate of you." Fradel concurred.  "Yet I am amazed at the extent of effort put forth by those who oppose us.  It is hard for me to believe that a simple poet and a recluse scholar such as I would warrant this considerable investment of arms and attention."

Seizing this opportunity, Fradel next steered the conversation to the hidden reason for Zunrogo's presence there, hinting also at that particular concern which Zunrogo fought so hard to keep under wraps. A subsequent, pointed question, poised at the right moment, almost forced Captain Zunrogo to make a clean breast of it (own up to it) but, again with remarkable cunning, he sprang free from the trap and led the topic instead, to more abstract, harmless avenue.

Unwilling to concede defeat, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) adopted an even shrewder tactic which hard pressed Zunrogo, for a time, to aptly respond.

 Yet once more the captain rising to the challenge countered it with a most plausible explanation, calculated to discourage Fradel Rurik Korvald from ever pursuing the topic again.

 Impressed, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) conceded with due practicality.

05-NEVETSECNUAC IN CAPITAL (2)

This intense exchange had passed under the guise of seemingly innocuous congeniality, yet Zunrogo was relieved that Fradel had been deterred from pursuing the subject any further

“Uncanny,” Zunrogo looking away, pondered. “Fradel’s last hypothesis was dead on; so dangerously on a par with the truth.”

Zunrogo made a mental note never to allow Fradel a similar chance again.  He leaned forward in his seat.  "Yes, in anticipation of your next question, Captain Doku's skills are expendable.  Tizan is perfectly adept at manning a craft of this size. It was with this outcome in mind that, by design, I selected Tizan to accompany me on this trip.  He may be a trifle hot headed, I know, but in the end, he is an able and reliable subordinate. Besides, once you know how to harness his multitude of unique talents, you can make good use of them.  He's indispensable in that respect.  Smiling smugly, he sat back.  "As for your humanitarian concerns, Tizan is, at this moment, locking them all up in their respective cabins so as to keep them, other passengers, all out of harm's way when this inevitable confrontation occurs."

"Then, after the battle, you will release them unharmed and your henchman, Tizan, will not be permitted to lay a hand on them?"  Fradel, with this last question, sought to gain a definite commitment from the captain.

"Under the circumstances, I think that I am extremely generous." Zunrogo, hiding his irritation at this upstart scholar, nodded.  Outwardly he was making every effort to be congenial but under the mask of calm and composure he seethed in anger and resentment.  He had intended on disposing of them, one and all; so as not to leave behind any loose ends.  Now he was bound by his words to Fradel Rurik Korvald not to taint either his or Tizan's hand with their blood.  He did not appreciate Fradel's tricks.  Still there is that old proverb, 'A dog can lose its skin in many ways.' 

"Actually, I've been looking forward to the challenge of this duel with my nemesis Lance Diostin." fearing exposure, Zunrogo steered the conversation away to a more interesting topic.  "There's no denying that he is competent, but he has never before clashed swords with me.  Confidentially, I have been an ardent student of his fighting techniques for quite some time now and, though I do not wish to seem boastful, I have now mastered these skills one and all.  Furthermore, the combined efforts of me and Tizan’s should amply suffice to defeat him, don't you think?"  Looking away, Zunrogo mumbled. “Besides, it’s high time, Lance Diostin’s insufferable arrogance was curbed.”

"Most commendable," Fradel decided to go along.  "I see now that I have no cause for fear.  You, sir, with your keen foresight and ability, will surely succeed in vanquishing Lance Diostin and his forces."

Zunrogo grimaced in satisfaction and nodded, yet something else, some entirely different matter, had just then intruded in his thoughts; Fradel had of course, immediately noticed the slight change in him, how he now seemed anxious to end this polite, trivial conversation.  When Zunrogo turned his attention back on the present issue, he smiled to cover up his thoughts.  "Tonight, since we are keeping up the ruse, our pursuers will be allowed to catch up to us.  Even though the wind has dropped considerably, even during the time we have been here conversing, I expect they will put their men to good use on the oars in order to maintain their swift pace.  Their lightweight vessel is well suited to such a use, but then that, too, I have taken into consideration."

"It is admirable how you have managed to manipulate the outcome you desired." Once more Fradel feigned awe.

"As soon as this fog lifts…"

"Which should be by noon, tomorrow," Fradel injected somberly.

“Was that just a good guess?  How on earth could he anticipate that outcome, so precisely?”  "Exactly," Zunrogo masked his amazement with a nod as he briefly scrutinized Fradel.

 "Yes, it will be then that they will descend on us in force.  Fortunately, the rain will be a good deterrent for any fire attack."  Succinctly then, Zunrogo revealed part of his intended counter measures.

“Oh gods, he's good.  He's so masterful at mind control.”  Zunrogo, awakened bit too late, to what he had just let slip and, disappointed, looked away. “How subtly he primed me to reveal even that much and no doubt, he will fill in the rest.  His artful manipulation is quite astounding, to say the least.  Yet, why does he pursue this course?  Could it be that, under his flattery, he is still suspects me, or, still unsure of my abilities to defend him?”

He discreetly studied Fradel once more but then dismissed the notion. “No, that's not it at all.  It’s his arrogance if anything.  That's it.  On the eve of the battle, he does not much like the idea of blindly entrusting one’s fate to another.  With all that wit, brilliance, and some measure of courage at his disposal, our scholar, being so inept at defending himself, feels utterly helpless and frustrated.  So, he tries to impress upon me his...” Zunjugo quickly hid the look of condescension in his eyes.  “Yes, I imagine it would.”

Fradel, smiling inwardly, in the interim, had nodded tersely then, in earnest sincerity, asked if there was anything, however trivial, that he could do to render Zunrogo assistance either before or during the coming battle.

“Don't be absurd!  What can you do?  You can't write your way out of this mess; this is a real- life struggle.”  Zunrogo, however, masked his amusement; then in a measured tone, choosing his words carefully so as not to offend Fradel Rurik Korvald, he declined the scholar’s kind offer. "It is most gracious of you, sir, but everything is pretty much under control.  However, we would fight better, in fact with an easier mind if you were kept safe and out of harm's way.  Considering, perhaps an unforeseen danger, I must insist that you, along with the rest of the passengers, remain locked up in your cabins, until the danger has passed.  I must beg your indulgence in this.  Please accept my apologies in advance for any inconvenience and rest assured that I will do all I can to minimize your discomfort.  But now I fear I may have done you a disservice, being remiss in keeping you up so late from your sleep."  He stood up briskly, quite impatient to end this polite, tiresome exchange.

"So, if there is nothing further you wish to discuss, I must now beg you to excuse me, for there are still a few minor details that require a brief perusal."

At this point Zunrogo turned, to look over Fradel Rurik Korvald's head at Tizan, who had just then returned.  Motioning the Lieutenant to come forward, Zunrogo commanded him in a stern voice to apologize to Fradel Rurik Korvald for his earlier, inexcusable impudence.

After Tizan begrudgingly complied, Zunrogo asked, "Any problems?"  Receiving the expected, sharp reply, Tizan was then instructed to escort Fradel Rurik Korvald back to his cabin and ensure that all provisions for his comfortable stay were provided for, before he was to immediately report back.  Catching the Captain's meaningful, fleeting look, Tizan nodded in affirmation then patiently waited for the scholar to walk ahead.

 

(END OF SECTION 27)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 11

Fradel, resolved to tell all, nodded and then solemnly confessed: "The venerable Zukan Rurik Korvald, in truth was my adopted father, who’d rescued me from the clutches of death and raised me as his own all these years. This fact was revealed to me on his death bed."

Svein empathetically listened to it, as Fradel gradually unfolded the threads of his confidential, distressing past:

Zukan Rurik Korvald, a celebrated scholar of his time, one faithful day on a return trip after visiting a close relative, propitiously (impulsively) requiring some respite, had had his boat moored on the banks of the river Tua, just a short distance from a bridge.  He had interrupted his journey craving also, to partake (imbibe) a particular fine wine (a special brew he’d procured from a winery), while absorbing proper appreciation of the marvelous scenery that enhanced that region. 

01- ZUKAN RURIK KORVALD

Subsequently inspired, he’d composed some brilliant stanzas that were later to be highly prized by the gentry; just before dusk, he’d laid down his brush and returned to his cabin to recline for a short repose (rest) when, the blowing of horns and the approaching thunder of hooves drove him back up on deck.

From afar, he had then witnessed the gruesome tragedy of two people, unfortunate enough to be caught on the bridge and, failing to clear the way, being trampled by Zakhertan Yozdek's unruly steed as he led his mounted contingent in a fearsome race over the hills, leaving a trail of dust behind. Overriding the protests of his boatmen, Zukan Rurik Korvald still sent his two trusted servants to the bridge to assess the damage and, perhaps, lend some curative help to the unfortunate victims.  As expected, their report of the couple's fate came as no surprise to anyone.  The couple had been trampled to death; however, the mother's quick action, as she'd used her body to shield her infant son from the deadly onslaught had spared the baby from a certain death.  The chief steward, not knowing what else to do, had returned with the scrawny, bawling infant in his arms.

The captain and crew put up a strong resistance to having the baby on board, arguing that this was no small matter.  Refusing to become involved, the captain had strongly advised Zukan to dispose of the infant along with his parents’ corpses into the river.

 "Field Marshal Zakhertan Yozdek,” he'd vehemently warned, "is not one to be trifled with.  You're a stranger to these parts; you don't know the half of it.  If you value your life, you'd best forget all you've seen today.  The law can't touch mighty Field-Marshall, so save yourself from sure future calamity.  This infant is not worth the serious trouble which it could beget, not only for you but for us all."

"Nonsense; no one is above the law!" Zukan had exploded.  Ordinarily a mild-mannered nobleman, he had regretted this outburst immediately and thus added calmly, "I'll deal with this in my own way, you will not be involved."

As a man of integrity and chivalrous character, the venerable Zukan Rurik Korvald had delayed his departure from this region thence, in order to appear before the local Magistrate, named Luoki, to demand justice for two unidentified, dead peasants.

 Magistrate Luoki and the other prominent local authorities, disgruntled atop quaking with fear, had shown reluctance, furthermore, banding together had done their best to discourage Zukan from this dangerous pursuit.  Discreetly, and unofficially, the scholar was counseled to leave well enough alone and was again told that Field Marshal Zakhertan Yozdek was too powerful a man to offend.

“This misdemeanor,” as they called the murder of two peasants, who were obviously also strangers to the region, “was too light a charge to even think of summoning Field Marshal Zakhertan before a rural court to give account.”

 The Magistrate had, meanwhile, wrapped up the case quickly and efficiently, after his subordinates had obtained (secured) false evidence from the boatmen and his crew, all of it substantiating the final verdict, the pronouncing of the couple's death, a deliberate act of a double suicide.   

Outnumbered, Zukan Rurik Korvald’s protests had, via other measures, been totally curtailed; he was rendered powerless to beget any justice for the innocent victims. In this way, though, local authorities and the deemed ungrateful Zukan Rurik Korvald, were shielded from the certain future wrath of Field Marshal Zakhertan Yozdek.

03-MAGISTRATE LUOKI

The matter thus summarily settled; the Magistrate Luoki demanded next, that the child be turned over to the authorities for his proper disposal.  Rather than surrendering, however, Zukan and his servants fled the area under cover of night.

Later Zukan had sent a trusted aide back to the region under disguise in order to make discrete investigations into the identity of the victims and about any prior (erstwhile) links (relations, possible family, contacts).  When this effort proved to be in vain, Zukan had embraced the child as his own and, since he was himself childless, named the infant Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Quite discontented with the rampant corruption under Zakhertan Yozdek's growing power, observing how the Field-Marshall’s hands gripped the nation's neck, choking tightly until the pulse ceased its flow; the indignant (aristocrat) scholar Zukon, had eventually been constrained (forced) to become a recluse.

Zukan's peaceful domain was so completely insulated that it allowed no outside infiltration at all.  Fradel had grown up perfectly schooled in literary skills and religion, cocooned in this tranquil atmosphere, oblivious to the harsh realities in the so-called civilized world outside.  The truth about his parentage was revealed to him only at Zukan's death bed.  Unfortunately, before the three years of mourning for the venerable Zukan Rurik Korvald was over and Fradel had fully explored his avenues of vengeance against Zakhertan, Fradel had been summoned to court.

Fradel at this point, falling silent, had pensively looked away beyond the curtainless window, to observe the night sky dotted with blinking stars.

"It is as I had expected,” Svein (Nevetsecnuac) just then rejoined with fire in his eyes, startling Fradel from his ephemeral brooding (ruminating).  "We share the same purpose, you and I.” Svein smiled and then nodded. “It may have started as a personal vendetta, but it has now gone far beyond that, hasn't it?"  Svein, next, answered Fradel's silent query. "Yes, my parents and all my family, too, were cruelly murdered by Zakhertan Yozdek."

Fradel gazed at Svein nonplused, realizing only then that, despite the intense and extensive interchange that led them to the brink of becoming sworn brothers, he still knew virtually nothing of Svein's background.  How far can I hinge on this blind faith?

But before Fradel could give voice to his thoughts, Svein inquired directly and with sincere concern, "Your courage and aim are both most commendable, Fradel; and I don’t wish to give offense, however, it is obvious that you lack both knowledge and skill in pertinent strategy, medicine, toxins or Martial Arts.  How do you propose to best (assassinate) this most formidable foe Zakhertan Yozdek? Lest I miss something vital, may I be permitted to learn of your plan?  Besides, I doubt that you have ever killed an animal, let alone a human being."

"You are quite correct in your supposition.” Fradel replied coolly.  "I've always been opposed to the taking of life.  I've espoused the philosophy of Zuox which holds that 'All life, its form and expression, is sacred.  They must be cherished and preserved.'  But that hardly applies to a villain like Zakhertan, a monster arrayed (clothed) in human form.  I'm well aware of the past, unsuccessful, numerous attempts on usurper Monarch's life.  Though I have comparatively little fighting ability, this inadequacy does not deter me from my noble aim.  I have the will, and I am prepared to die to attain justice for my parents and for my countrymen.  The monster must be made to atone for his crimes."  As he vehemently expressed his hatred of Zakhertan once more, he grew quite flushed, his ears burned, and his voice grew hoarse.

"You have echoed the sentiments of my own heart.” Svein responded thoughtfully when the other fell silent.  "But, Fradel, this is no small task, and it should not be taken lightly.  I, at least, was trained and conditioned since childhood for such a purpose while you were not.  Every fabric of my being stands in readiness for this fight.  Far be it that I should deter you from your just cause, but I fear that your noble attributes, exceptional courage may not be enough; why, then, should you throw your life away?”

"No.", Svein waved a dissenting hand to still the retort forming on Fradel's tongue.  "Please hear me out first.  A man can only die once.  All that I ask is that you postpone your vengeance until I have had a go at it first.  In the event that I should fail then it will be your turn.  By then, perhaps, you would have attained the necessary skill and be able to succeed where others before you have failed."

"I know that you mean well, Svein, and I will certainly take your words under advisement.” Fradel stubbornly replied.  "Still, being the least likely person to attack the Monarch, I would have the element of surprise on my side and may be more likely to inflict a mortal wound on him.  He is on his guard with formidable men (civil or military) with fine physiques, wary of fighters of all sorts (male or female), dissident scholars or any citizen with adverse views.  But he would never suspect a nature loving recluse such as I.  I’m aware of the fact that his elite security has checked me out thoroughly."  Fradel stopped and went over to his luggage and began rummaging around inside.  Finding what he sought for, he withdrew an antique-looking writing brush and presented it with a flourish.  "Besides, this provides me with the perfect means of killing him."

Suppressing a chuckle, Svein queried, "And how, may I ask, do you propose to use that?  However, genius a contraption, a concealed weapon in the form of a brush would be detected at once.”

Ignoring Svein's obvious misgivings, Fradel smiled wryly and pointed the bristles of the brush towards the headboard.  Instantly a small metal dart buried itself with a twang half-way into the wood.

 As Svein went to retrieve the dart, Fradel removed a small, wooden box from his pocket and opening it, announced, "This is no ordinary ink box.  It contains the highly noxious ink that can paralyze the heart within seconds of coming in contact with the skin.  Loading the brush for writing laces the tip of the dart and a concealed trigger launches it.  This trick should bring about Zakhertan's destruction instantly. “

04- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD

“I most certainly will be searched for concealed weapons before I'm brought into his presence, but they would not take away the tools of my trade; I need these to fulfill my purpose in being summoned there.  I ask you; would anyone suspect the simple writing implement of a non-political, scholarly recluse?"

"It seems you’ve given this a lot of thought.  And admittedly it’s the most ingenious device. The barbed dart is most cleverly camouflaged as one of the bristles.  Now suppose you are fortunate enough that it does escape the meticulous scrutiny (search) of the elite security. But the target may not be such an easy one to hit.  Zakhertan Yozdek is renowned for his military prowess; he's reportedly unsurpassed in agility, strength, and cunning.  Moreover, he might be wearing under his court vestments, light metal armor (cuirass, shield); you, taking that into account, no doubt plan to aim for his neck, hand or face. Nevertheless, with his incredible reflexes he may still successfully elude the dart and what then?    Have you an alternate plan to follow in this one's wake?"

"No!” Fradel stamped his foot in vexation.  In truth, he had not configured every possibility, and, Svein’s points had certain validity.  Going against such a formidable foe he should have devised a more plausible secondary, even a tertiary plan to fall back on in order to ensure his success.  He sat down to ponder with a sinking heart.

"Do not lose heart, brother, for I shall not fail.  The monster's days are numbered."  Svein lightly tapped Fradel's shoulder in consolation.

Svein's addressing him as "brother" recalled to Fradel’s mind, his earlier resolve.  Rising to his feet, he proposed that, since there were now no obstacles, they should take the oath of brotherhood without further delay; after which they could plan at length how best he and Svein, as individuals or jointly, could best serve their cause.  But it was now Svein's turn to (hesitate) show reserve; nevertheless, in the brief silence that ensued, Svein had swiftly resolved his inner quandary.  Svein sincerely addressing Fradel, first asked forgiveness for his prior deception, and then drawing near, in a low voice revealed the name of his mentor, Lord Asger Thuxur Marrow Zhon, and subsequently, confessed to his true identity.

Overcoming his shock, Fradel was about to drop to his knees to show his proper respect, when he was swiftly, courteously, stopped by Nevetsecnuac.  “Since they were practically brothers already,” Nevetsecnuac, same time had reasoned, “such formalities were quite unwarranted.”

"But I, the orphan son of lowly peasants, am unworthy of such great honor.  I cannot hope to ever become the sworn brother of a Prince (Nevtsecnuac Alric Therrain Valamir).” Fradel protested.

"You have now offended me deeply, brother.” Nevetsecnuac frowned.  “I never figured you to be so pompous.  After all that we have shared, nothing has changed between us."

 The emotion filled speech that followed, imbued with such humility and honesty so overwhelmed Fradel that, his eyes brimming with tears, he finally acquiesced.

In the private ceremony that followed, the Prince and the Scholar both fell to their knees facing south.  Voicing their petition to the Heavenly Gods, they swore an oath before them to be brothers for life.  After a small cut was inflicted on each one’s index finger, the dripping blood was then collected in a ceramic goblet half filled with wine.  Taking the cup in both hands, Nevetsecnuac ceremoniously presented it to Fradel, calling him elder brother as Fradel was five years his senior.  Receiving the cup, Fradel drank the first sip from it then, with just as much ceremony, offered it to Nevetsecnuac, addressing him as his younger brother.  After Nevetsecnuac had obliged, the cup was hurled against the fireplace and broke into a thousand fragments, sealing the oath forever.  The (sudden) just then rising winds outside vigorously rattled the shutters as if in shared joy and approval.

Nevetsecnuac and Fradel, now as brothers sat across from each other and toasted to their future success. As they partook the wine, they reminisced about family members and dear friends that could not be there; later still, slightly inebriated, they drowned their sorrows in yet more capfuls of wine. 

During this time Fradel was told of the great deeds and sacrifices of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, Lord Shonne Gulbrand, Lu Moldan and the rest, marveling at their greatness, loyalty and scope of heroic attributes, comparing each to the legendary historical figures.

As the topic gradually veered towards the exacting of vengeance, Fradel asked Nevetsecnuac if he had on him the special ID Permit, a vital official (two-part) document essential in allowing one access to Capital Province Holger and then to Imperial city Channing.

Nevetsecnuac shook his head in the negative, then asked, "An ID Permit? This is the first time I’ve heard of such a requisite."

"Just as I suspected,” Fradel nodded thoughtfully.  "But that's to be expected."  He went on to explain that few officials, never mind influential citizens, were aware of the necessity for such a certificate, even though its use had been strictly enforced by the authorities in the Capital province, Holger, for half a year now.  He recounted how he, himself, would have been caught unawares, had it not been for the Palace Guard's explicit reminder when he'd delivered the summons from the Court.

FRADEL

"I'm afraid that, without it, entry to the Capital is impossible.” Fradel intoned grimly. 

"This strict measure had been put into effect after a latest, nearly successful attempt on Zakhertan's life by a small group of very competent assassins.  I have heard undisputed claims that since then, Imperial City Channing has been sealed like a fortress, allowing no entry or egress without proper authorization.”

It was most fortunate, indeed, that we talked long enough for me to recall this important detail otherwise, being caught at the gate without this official permit; you would have instantly been apprehended for questioning.  Your aim would have been frustrated very early on."

"Then I must act to secure for myself such documents,” came Nevetsecnuac's decisive response.  "Can I rely on your guidance and assistance, brother?"

"You don't understand the degree of difficulty involved.” Fradel shook his head. 

"It's not a question of my assistance, brother; I wish it was that easy.  I'm afraid that these two-part documents can only be obtained at your birthplace and are issued only by the resident Governor for a considerable fee.  You must also produce at least three other notable residents as witnesses.  Even under the best of circumstances, such a process could not be completed within a month."

Fradel drew out the documents from their protective covering of waxed parchment and pointed an explicit finger to the top left corner of one of them where, sealed under gum Arabic, a provincial court artist had drawn the poet's likeness.  Nevetsecnuac's eyes followed, with increasing misgivings and a heavier heart, the list of Fradel's identifying particulars, his physical description, parent's name, age and birthplace and finally, at the bottom, the long trail of official seals.

06- NEVETS EXAMINES PAPER

"Due to the urgency of summons necessitating my prompt departure, the obliging Lord and the new governor, Mojen, spared me the time and difficulty of procuring necessary documentation.  Taking me at my word, they acted as my guarantors and expediently processed the ID Permit with all due haste." Fradel, pensively(thoughtfully), meanwhile, had continued. "Of course, even if I did have the ID Documents of my deceased servants still in my possession,” Fradel interjected, "their particulars are so vastly different from yours that, I'm afraid, they still would have been of no use to you."

Having recently buried the men, Nevetsecnuac concurred with a nod of his head; meanwhile, it had become clear to Nevetsecnuac that without proper verification, he could never obtain, not at any length of time, this kind of vital documentation. 

"What is to be done, then?” he gave voice to his fret (hassle).  "How can I beat this unexpected hindrance (hurdle)?  I must seek another ingenious means to override this serious obstacle." Nevetsecnuac distractedly followed Fradel's bold strides to and for, as the scholar presently paced the room in contemplation.

"But, of course!” Nevetsecnuac jumped up in elation.  "Why didn’t I think of this before?"

Startled, Fradel grabbed Nevetsecnuac's arm.  "What is it, brother?"

"The answer to our dilemma is right before us. The problem has already been resolved by none other than you, brother." Nevetsecnuac responded with a bemused smile.

"Me? How?"

"Elder Brother, it just struck me how similar in appearance we are.  For instance, are we both relatively of the same height and bearing and share similar facial features?  Fortunately, due to haste, the hair and eye coloring were not precise. With a beard, could I not pass for twenty-five?"

"What an idea!" Fradel chortled.

07 NEVETS AND FRADEL

 "I knew there was something about you I liked."  His eyes dwelt on Nevetsecnuac with a new intensity as he surveyed the prince’s features.  "Yes, it is possible." he had to concur.  "I must be getting muddle headed, strange how this simple solution eluded me."

"That's because, elder brother, despite all my previous reasoning you still harbor the desire to press on by yourself.  How stubborn you are."  Nevetsecnuac teased, shaking a finger at him.

Donning a long face, Fradel turned an aimless gaze to the crackling flames of the fire.  An inexplicable sadness just then, gripping his heart.

 

(END OF SECTION 11)