LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 10 

Lenny Sukzor having eventually returned home bit inebriated (for he needed something to dull his senses), disheartened and exhausted, he had at once retired to his sleeping quarters.

Shortly after, under the cover of darkness the same premises (Under secretary’s residence) yielded one then, after a period another covert (disguised) figure, both emerging from the secret passageway to be swallowed up by the murky (shadowy) street.

The first cloaked figure, heading north, was soon admitted through the secret Iron-gate, and escorted by an armed sentinel, into the prohibited, Inner Palace. Brought before the head of Zakhertan Yozdek’s Special Security force, the spy bowed respectfully and submitted her detailed report.

The second figure took a different path, heading southeast. Hugging the shadows, he quickly made his way to an old section of the city dotted with ancient temples, crumbling warehouses and, an area riddled with secret catacombs known to but a few.  The clandestine meeting was to transpire under the fifth watchtower.

01-

"You are late!"  A figure jumped suddenly out of the shadows to block his path. "A few minutes more and I would have left."

The cloaked figure apologized for the (unavoidable) delay and immediately got right down to business at hand; after receiving the small parcel (containing specific documents) he forthwith gave his personal assurances that all had been arranged to his satisfaction. The lucrative posting was to be his for the asking. This part of the business concluded, he then assured Zunrogo that as per payment for the second item, the gold itself had been deposited in warehouse 56, hidden in a stack of rice sacks.  Holding out the key to the warehouse, and thus the possession of the fee, the cloaked figure then demanded the item in question be handed over forthwith.

"Not so fast!" Zunrogo held out his hand. "How do I know, that is, what guarantee do I have …"

"None.", the cloaked figure was annoyed.

 "If you want to back out because of your short-sighted reservations, then so be it. This meeting is terminated!"  He pocketed the key and abruptly turned his back to leave.

“You have guts, Qunen Yummer.” Zunrogo smiled venomously for, despite the disguise, he had identified (recognized) the voice. The other contingencies he had laid in place in case of future betrayal were at once dispensed with. They were now unnecessary. Qunen Yummer's identity was all the insurance he needed. That very first meeting, when he had been covertly assigned to this other, more important case, Zunrogo had discreetly followed the cloaked agent at the end of their clandestine meeting to find the source of his orders. When the agent had disappeared into the mansion of the Prime Minister, Zunrogo had assumed, with some measure of certainty, who had been his employer; same time comprehended the very nature of this delicate assignment and its grave political implications which had, understandably, warranted such extensive measures. On the point of turning and walking away from Lamont Gudaren’s residence he had witnessed the re-emergence of the selfsame agent.

02- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 21

Heeding his intuition, Zunrogo had again pursued the cloaked figure through the shadows only to see him disappear for good this time into the fire ravaged residence of Lenny Sukzor. Even so, until this very moment, he had failed to, proof positive identity, his contact. Now that he had recognized the distinct voice, this nagging mystery had been satisfactorily resolved for Zunrogo Tugo.

Qunen Yummer was the assistant to the famed architect Yazune Koz, who was employed to oversee the reconstruction of the destroyed wings of the residence. Naturally, Qunen would reside at the job site as part of his obliged duty until the project was completed.

“How opportune for the Prime Minister, to have an excellent chance (prospect) to spy on the honest and incorruptible Lenny Sukzor just as he was fast gaining in prominence. Hmm…,” Zunrogo mused, “if the Prime Minister is using Qunen Yummer in this way, I should be mindful of the junior architect's future postings. I will have to keep close tabs on him, just in case.”

As for the letter itself, when Zunrogo had first conceived of its true importance he had immediately considered the other avenues open to him for greater gain. He now regretted that decision. Setting those aside, he should have acted on retrieving it that very night after he had seduced (courier) Disaidun Agripe; alas, because of his short-sightedness, it had slipped through his hands and got replaced by the pseudo letter that would have brought about his sure demise. “At least I had avoided that catastrophe; better to admit failure than walk into a sure trap.”  He shrugged. 

"Don’t be so affronted,” Zunrogo now rushed over and hastily grabbed Qunen’s arm, to stop him. “I meant no disrespect.”  After a short apology he explained his real reasons for not accepting the key at this time.  He reluctantly (grudgingly) confessed to his abject failure in recovering the letter; succinctly stated the varied events, excluded (kept out) from the official report, which had transpired on the vessel (boat) and same time laid claim that, he’d been misinformed about the courier Disaidun Agripe.  That she had been duplicitous and same time the stooge, a false lead, but as he had other more promising leads, he presently forwarded his verbal request to his employer, through (via) Quenen, to be allowed bit more time to recover the actual letter.

“What are you really up to?” Qunen Yummer , inwardly scoffed; clearly angry for having wasted his time, he shook his head and then quickly departed the scene.

Zunrogo leered after him, relieved that he had bought (himself) some valuable time till he could figure out his next recourse (option). In truth he had no such sure leads on the letter’s whereabouts, only hunches. Zunrogo with a grim expression, stared thoughtfully for a time in the direction of the disappeared cloaked figure, then he too, advancing in a different direction, was quickly swallowed up by the darkness.

                                                                          ~

 

That same night another cloaked agent, one carrying the actual letter, had detoured to some small measure, backtracking to ascertain that he was not pursued, dogged as he had been few blocks prior.  Assured that he was in the clear he had then taken a decisively abrupt turn and, hugging the shadows as he veered this way and that, finally arrived at his destination.

Stopped by the stout and intimidating (menacing) armed guard at the gate, he at once uttered (pronounced) a seemingly ordinary salutation word, that was in fact (in actuality) the secret password, which allowed him apt (ready) admittance to the inside.

The cloaked agent swiftly advanced through the long, dark hallway which eventually led to a dim room where a clandestine meeting was already (been held) in progress. He quietly removed his cloak (cape) and uncovered his head; standing on attention now, he waited with due patience for his turn to speak.

When Zaur looked at him and slightly nodded his head, he briskly stepped forward and at this close proximity, he promptly presented the letter to the leader of the Sacred Brotherhood of the Kozurs.

"Was there any variation (inconsistency) I should know about?" Zaur Stugr in a low voice asked sternly.

"None to report, sir; It all went according to plan." Kaelan answered respectfully.

03- KAELAN  ( OR CREWMAN ZACK)

Zaur, detecting the ever so slight quaver in Kaelan’s voice, had sensed that Kaelan was holding something back but chose not to dwell on it at present.

From the start Zaur’d been quietly impressed by Kaelan’s courage, integrity, and tenacity.  Relying on these demonstrated abilities Zaur had, for the first time ever, gone against his firm policy of not involving an unseasoned member in matters of serious magnitude; and thus far, he had not been disappointed. He was confident therefore that, whatever was troubling Kaelan, at an appropriate time he would own up to it (make a clean breast of it).  

Turning his back to the assembly Zaur briskly strode to the desk and deposited the letter temporarily into his locked drawer.  Later it would be transferred to a safer home in the vault of the secret room.

Returning to listen to another’s report, Zaur Stugr continued to study Kaelan from the corner of his eye, as he same time, reflected on how hitherto, exceeded all expectations, invaluable this recent recruit been to their organization.

Unexpectedly just then Zaur was reminded of another outstanding recruit, a double agent no less, who had achieved a remarkable feat in a noticeably short while, won the Prime Minister's confidence sufficiently well enough, to be assigned to reporting on the actions of Lenny Sukzor.  His instructions had been to, by any means procure vital facts concerning this highly respected minister that could be of some use for future extortion or, to be merely employed (in some underhanded scheme) simply to be degraded (sullied, brought down) a notch or two when he got too powerful. And so, over the course of the ensuing weeks and months Qunen Yummer had dutifully fed the Prime Minister with profitable, juicy, and slightly harmful bits of data.  The items of real significance and those that were most damaging however, had been covertly and in regular intervals furnished to Zaur.

04- QUNEN YUMMER (15)JP

The final pay-off had come when Qunen had stumbled onto Lenny Sukzor’s secret identity as a Black Molochs and his involvement in this business of the Lord's extortion. Moreover, by his determining the last whereabouts of the (source) extortion-letter, Qunen had provided the Kozurs with the trump-card they had been waiting for.  Acting on this information at once, Zaur had conceived of the plan to involve Zunrogo Tugo. The summons of the scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald had been Heaven-sent, for it had also provided Kaelan (the strategically positioned mariner in that vessel) with the plausible cover to effectively conduct his key covert mission.

 Considering the result, Zunrogo's terms of payment had by no means been unreasonable or objectionable.  The Kozurs had been able to settle an old score by discreetly disposing of a corrupt and incompetent official, leaving his coveted post open for the promotion of one such as Zunrogo Tugo. Part of Zaur’s vice-ministerial duties involved selecting top candidates and their placement in apt (suitable) official posts.  As the final decision rested with the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren, Zunrogo had been furnished with the needed qualifications, and then presented as the best option (candidate) to fill the vacant post.  The Prime Minister had already been favorably disposed towards Zunrogo and quite impressed by the captain’s abilities, was only too willing to give his approval of the appointment. 

The funds Zunrogo had requested were but a trifling sum, considering the vastness of the reserves contained in the Kozur's vault; meanwhile another covert undertaking was to, decidedly seal, Zunrogo’s fate.

Not long after the anticipated word had reached Zaur that Kaelan, executing the plan flawlessly, had retrieved the coveted prize and then replaced it with the pseudo one. As Zaur Stugr had waited for the delivery of the letter itself, Zaur had weighed his options carefully and in the end had settled on the best recourse:  For the time being he would postpone any direct action and instead, utilize his competent agent Kanbi Dayu who was strategically positioned in the palace.

Posing as one of Egil Viggoaries's underlings, Kanbi as per instructed had discreetly contacted the maid Nijel Ping, Lord Shouzi's spy in the Palace, and then passed on in a seemingly involuntary manner the secret news that the Dark Eunuch was no longer in possession of, the blackmail letter.  For reasons of security, Kanbi had since then been reassigned to a more distant post (a different taskforce, team) in a maritime province, where their (Kozur’s) smuggling operations demanded closer scrutiny.

“Let the tigers turn on each other.” Zaur at the time had gloated, thinking of the future developments that would soon be manifesting between Egil Viggoaries and Lord Shouzi.

“Blackmail...?”  Well, that consideration was last on his extensive list of options. As it were, Zaur’s mind had already been set on the precise, most tactically opportune point in time where which to expose the Lord and his powerful affiliates. 

After Egil Viggoaries’s efforts were curbed or utterly frustrated Zaur, working through a third party would then win Lord Shouzi's confidence and, by colluding and tapping into his Lordship's resources, weaken the central government and consequently erode some of Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek’s iron grip.

05- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (42) JP2

For some time now Zaur Stugr had been the surreptitious, real force (power) behind most of Lamont Gudaren’s ingenious machinations; nevertheless, it’d suited Zaur’s purpose well to have His Excellency claim full credit since it also lulled the P.M. into a false sense of security. 

“This most recent, sordid business with his nephew Yekov…” Zaur's mind had just then strayed, as he’d listened to Xifon Therrang's long, boring report.  “I cannot rely on those clumsy minions of Lamont’s to successfully carry out such an important task.  There is no room here for even the slightest margin of error; therefore, I must see to it at once that this business with Yekov is promptly and efficiently squared off (away).  Egil Viggoaries had already made (attained) great strides in his attempts to ensnare Lamont Gudaren with that business of the fire at Lenny Sukzor’s residence.”  Zaur Stugr waved his hand to stay Xifon’s report.  He had heard enough. Xifon Therrang bowing quietly stepped back.

Zaur now turning to the specific group in the room, he curtly dispensed his orders, "I want the word passed on to Koniko and Satoro that Yekov Gudaren is to meet with an unexpected accident within the fortnight. All evidence incriminating the Prime Minister is either to be destroyed or discredited."

Xifon Therrang’s tedious (tiresome) report had been the last one on the list; this night’s meeting hence, had presently come to a natural conclusion. Zaur was about to dismiss all when Kaelan again pressed forward decisively and bowed deeply.  He was now resolved to unburden himself, even if it meant his death.

"Something else," Zaur asked sharply impatiently turning to face Kaelan.

Unflinchingly, Kaelan looked Zaur straight in the eye and resolutely responded, “Sir, my mission was not entirely successful. There was another covert agent on the vassal whom I fought but could not defeat (best), so I fled with the letter. I also suspect that it was he who had fought and vanquished indomitable Lance Diostin, not Zunrogo Tugo. The cur took the credit for it nevertheless.” Kaelan swallowed hard. “He must have also at one point discovered the letter, which he had retrieved from secret courier Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi)’s body, was false and disposed of it; hence, escaping dire repercussions from P.M. Lamont Gudaren. Zunrogo Tugo’s presence in capital is proof of that. For these irregularities, I therefore, respectfully ask to be punished."  Head bowed; with intrepid resignation he awaited the dire verdict (consequence).

Zaur grimaced (frowned), studying Kaelan for a long while, and then nodded.  "Your failure in this instance can be forgiven."

06- ZAUR STUGR JP (4)

Zaur Stugr, seeing the puzzled expression on Kaelan’s eyes, he elaborated. "It may have actually worked out for our benefit.  Zunrogo will now believe with impunity that he has superior fighting ability, far more than he has.  Besides, he will be too wary of reprisals from the Black Molocks for killing one of their own, Lance Diostin. Faced with disappointing P.M and danger from Black Molocks, he may choose to flee.  If he does, he can much easier be disposed. “

“Either way we are well rid of him. So as far as I’m concerned, the matter has been satisfactorily resolved.  In the unlikely event that matters may go awry and take an adverse turn, then I would expect you to do the right thing.  Until then we are in need of your services."

Kaelan bowed in gratitude and thanked Zaur with unfaltering devotion for the chance to serve the Brotherhood once more.

Meeting dissolved, Zaur Stugr had stayed behind a while longer to ponder on a concern. 

Earlier this night, another, a valuable double agent known as Qunen Yummer, had expressed certain irregularity, a part failure, in his assigned task and, had as well, asked to be punished.  His guilt being that he had failed to obtain the letter which he then, would have presented to P.M. Lamont Gudaren and brought about Zunrogo’s ignoble death. But Zunrogo discovering letter’s falsehood had destroyed it; choosing to instead, admit (disclose) his failure as well, forego the payment. More importantly, during this clandestine meeting, Qunen had been, because of his cadence (voice), identified by Zunrogo.  Since part of his cover had been blown, and he’d been identified as P.M.’s secret agent, he’d asked to be duly (accordingly) punished or sent away. At the time this had seemed critically (disapprovingly) serious, as it had limited the agent’s efficacy (effectiveness); nevertheless, Zaur had provisionally (with reservations) postponed his final judgement on this matter. In view of Kaelan’s bold disclosure (confession, admission), Zaur at present was relieved to know, that he would not have to resort to drastic measures after all.

 

                                                                          ~   

(END OF SECTION 10) 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 20

01 A NEVETS ON HORSEBACK IN THE RAIN 

 After several days of laborious, continuous riding under the incessant rainfall, Nevetsecnuac, chiefly out of concern for his steed, once again sought some form of shelter to spend the night.  Fortunately, at that moment just before dusk, spotting the (orange tiles of) towers of an old, ruined temple jutting above the vast forest to their left, he steered the horse in that direction.

 After several hours of negotiating the difficult terrain and of snaking, ascending paths, they finally reached the long since abandoned structure.

Halting before the unlocked and partially destroyed, crooked, iron gates Nevetsecnuac dismounted and led the horse by the reins, through the opening, to inside. The dilapidated courtyard which greeted them hosted several pools, gifts of the relentless downpours, which dotted the area as if planned for a garden.  The entire yard, housing grotesque rocks, shattered pillars and broken tables and chairs carved out of stone, was completely overgrown with a thick, dark green layer of moss and climbers.  Brambles and thorn bushes choked the pathways.  Oddly enough, one clear, snaking path was beaten through the main thoroughfare, telling of a visit by some person or group in not-too-distant past.

After calling out and receiving no answer Nevetsecnuac cautiously pushed open a tattered, wooden portal which was filled with gaping holes.  It opened onto a large, dark hall where the air was so dense that it refused to enter the lungs.  Nevetsecnuac fetched the small candle from his pocket and lit it to illuminate his way. At the far end there was a ruined, ancient shrine.  The colored inscriptions had long since been gouged, burned, scraped and peeled off and charred, rounded shapes concealed the identities of whatever idols it had once hosted.  Several halls leading from the altar room had all deteriorated.  Broken bricks, stones and tiles littered the ground, some gathered in heaps.  Parts of the roofs of these empty chambers had collapsed, inviting the torrents of rain inside.  The wood floorboards had rotted, and parts had caved in, those still standing were carpeted in moss.  Grass grew in profusion in the kitchens, lecture halls, dining areas and in the scores of half-standing cubicles that, in their heyday, had hosted a great number of monks, novices and the droves of guests and devout followers.

 The few rooms with their roofs still intact were shrouded in a thick layer of cobwebs, dust and mildew.  This endless destruction of the walls, columns and stone altars and statues, undoubtedly inflicted by the hand of man, testified to a tragic, turbulent episode in history.

Nevetsecnuac's memory, triggered by the destruction around, quickly recalled Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon's narrative of the strife between the different religious orders attempting to gain supremacy after Zakhertan Yozdek’s usurpation of the throne and the subsequent strong resistance offered by some loyal monks to the new Emperor.

 What was the reason behind this carnage?  As if in answer, Nevetsecnuac’s eyes were at once drawn to a broken, badly marred tablet protruding from the rubble on the floor just a few feet away.  Nevetsecnuac picked it up, dusted it carefully and examined it.  Well versed in formal calligraphy, he attempted to make some sense of the deliberately obliterated remains of the script.  When he reached a line which ended "\\\NG \\TH V\R", he nodded his head in understanding as tears pricked his eyes.  Carrying the tablet bearing the honored name of his grandfather, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, along with a host of sad, leaden thoughts he pushed onwards into the major courtyard.

Most of the temple's once magnificent, adjoining (connecting) towers, were now crumbled ruins, walls tottering in the wind, totally unsafe to enter.  The main keep, bearing the evidence of a final battle, had decisively and mercilessly been razed right to the ground.

Amid the piles of stone and brick debris which filled these towers’ foundations, there lay shattered and cracked bronze bells, brass tripods, cauldrons and drums, broken blades, staffs (iron rods, bamboo poles), and spears, helmets, some still hosting their owner's skull, and a sea of bleached bones. 

Nevetsecnuac lingered at the sight, overcome with grief.  The tears coursing down his cheek were quickly washed away by the pounding rain as his unguided feet took him away from the major courtyard and into a dark, gloomy hall where an even more gruesome sight awaited him.

 There, at the center, a large heap of charred bones told of the tragic fate of the last survivors.  These loyal monks had fought and died with valor; yet in this length of time, no living being had dared, or cared to do the right thing by them.  Denied a proper burial, they had been barred from entering the nether regions and for decades their tortured souls had been imprisoned on earth, doomed to wander aimlessly. With this new visitor, Nevetsecnuac, however, their torment at long last would reach an end. 

Already having found a place of high, dry, shielded ground suitable for their final resting place, Nevetsecnuac took off his wet outer garments that weighed him down and put to good use the broken picks and shovels lying around the temple.  In the area he chose, protected from flood and erosion, he dug a deep, fair-sized grave and, selecting a stone tablet inscribed onto it a touching eulogy to commemorate the deed of these loyal monks.  Then, with utmost reverence, he collected all the charred remains and transported them through several trips, into the mass grave.  Covered over with clean earth and the headstone put into place, Nevetsecnuac paid them their last respects, intoning prayers, shedding tears and making proper sacrifices of food and wine (apportioning some provisions, as well, part of the plonk, vino, which Yagu had pressed on him at the time of his departure from the Inn) to their souls.

After this important task was completed, he first tended to the horse's needs then selected a dry room for himself in which he laid down his bedding and luggage.  As the pitch darkness blanketed the earth, flames of anguish still searing his heart, his depressed (state) mood driving away all appetite for food, he only downed several swigs (mouthfuls) of the coarse wine from the flask and feeling rather exhausted (spent, beat) he then reclined in slumber. Unfortunately, too many oppressive thoughts rushed at once to crowd his mind and deny him any respite.  Opening his eyes he distractedly watched the numerous fireflies that darted about the room, drawing luminous cursive shapes in mid-air; meanwhile, the sound of the rain drummed in his ears, till it gradually tapered off.  No sooner had the downpours stopped, however, mother nature set off a chorus of croaking frogs, droning mosquitoes and nocturnal chirping insects; all bustling with intense activity, they permanently disrupted any peace (silence) of the night.  Irritated, Nevetsecnuac turned his face to the wall and pulled the blanket over his head to dampen the ringing in his ears.

Suddenly, however, the din of noise, the croaking, had abruptly halted.  Nevetsecnuac sat bolt upright; he thought he'd heard a faint footstep trailing off into the distance.  Springing to his feet next, he darted outside to find no one there.  The frogs, about to start anew, hesitated, frightened by his presence.

Nevetsecnuac knew he would not sleep after all that, not till he resolved this mystery (satisfied with his curiosity) and, thinking that he’d perhaps overlooked some secret passageway during his previous inspection, he quickly lighted a candle and going outside, started anew his search, for be it a living prowler or a vengeful apparition (ghost), of the immediate grounds of the temple. 

On the far wall of one of the halls a small block of stone, previously hidden by a crumbled idol, had been brushed clean of dust. Drawing near, Nevetsecnuac gave it a brief scrutiny then applied pressure to the stone with his palm.  As he had suspected, the stone gave way and sank an inch deep into the wall and, with a faint groan, a secret underground passageway was revealed off to the side.  He traded the candle for a torch light and holding it up high, he descended the flight of dark, stone steps into a long, snaking underground tunnel.

Coming to a fork some way down, he examined the debris on the ground and determined the direction to take was to the left.  He advanced swiftly, but cautiously, he rounded corner after corner until he met up sharply with an obstructing wall.  Feeling around the partition, he stumbled quite by chance on the secret catch that parted the wall. 

After descending the precarious stone steps, further along the path, the tunnel had once, twice then again thrice divided into two segments; each time however, taking his cue from the disturbed debris and cobwebs, he veered either to the right or to the left, advancing cautiously through the dark, dingy tunnel network (labyrinths). 

Subsequently, two sets of footprints in the dust, one large, one small, piqued his curiosity.  As he proceeded, all manners of tunnel creatures, rats with coldly blazing eyes scurried off, frightened by the light, making a small commotion in the process.

Though he had covered a fair distance, he still had not encountered anything other than the resident pests (vermin, rats, mice a coiling snake etc.) within these catacombs. The long, narrow passageway at one point passed a set of stairs which led up to two opposite bolted doors. Singling out the door into which the small, wet footprints led, he traced them until they eventually disappeared behind a third door.  A faint light streamed out from underneath.  As he reached to lift the latch, he heard what it sounded like, a muffled child’s sobs.  Quietly, so as not to frighten the child, he pushed the door ajar and perused the inside before stepping through.  Except for the tall altar at the far end where the faint whimper emanated, the room was entirely empty.

 He advanced swiftly to investigate but, instead of the child novice he expected, there crouched a frail young woman with her head buried in her arms, sobbing pitifully. He was about to gently accost her when she became aware of his presence and, with a start, looked up at him.  Her tear-stained face, as lovely as a flower, drained completely of all its color.  Trembling, she fell on her knees and begged him to spare her.  He rushed to raise her to her feet.

"Please do not be frightened (alarmed).  I'm not going to hurt you.  I'm here to help." Nevetsecnuac reassured her then, bowing respectfully, introduced himself as Fradel Rurik Korvald.

In her crazed state she stared blankly at the scholar, not comprehending his words then again cupped her face in her hands and continued sobbing.  When the reality of the situation finally sank in, she turned and sized him up.  Yes, this is no robber, her face seemed to say.  He seems a decent sort, not an immoral being, I will be safe with him.

 Her racing heart was, furthermore, eased somewhat, when she looked into his kind, gentle eyes and listened to the placating, reassuring words that now began to make sense.  Sighing, she wiped her eyes and whimpered, "Please, sir, do help me.  You must get me out of here."  Receiving a sympathetic, affirmative response, she tried to fall onto her knees in gratitude but, made dizzy by her frail state, she faltered and collapsed instead into his strong, protective embrace.

She was revived and, with (Fradel’s) Nevetsecnuac's support, was led up to ground level where she was given both food and drink, her preference leaning towards the wine more so than the water.

Nevetsecnuac surmised that the woman he’d aided, a rather captivating beauty, was in her early twenties. Once her urgent needs for food and water had been fulfilled (satisfied), the normal color had then gradually returned to her pallid cheeks. Soon as she’d regained her strength, bowing, she thanked Fradel Rurik Korvald profusely and introduced herself as Yenis Luko.  Leaning her head back against the wall, her eyes half closed, she insisted on hence, telling Fradel of her past plight.

05 YENIS LUKO

Some three or four days prior, Yenis could not be exact, while her husband Senson Luko had been absent on business, four stout, armed bandits had, in the middle of the night when everyone was fast asleep, skillfully scaled the high walls surrounding her house, passed through the courtyard, gone through the second set of gates and penetrated the inner compounds into the privacy of the master's quarters, intent on robbing him in his absence.  The rogues, skilled in arms, had then made away with the valuables and her, as she had been unfortunate enough to have caught the eye of their chief.

Her servants and her husband’s two younger brothers, Latham, aged thirty two, and Hacket, aged twenty seven, responding to her screams for help, had been most ineffective at stopping the bandits.  Badly wounded and beaten, this ineffective lot had watched her being taken away bound and gagged.  The ensuing long, arduous ride had, by nightfall of the following day, delivered both her and her abductors to this forbidden, forsaken place.

"I dare not deceive you, sir.  Everything I say is the truth."  Yenis heaved a deep, sorrowful sigh as she wiped a tear from her eye.  Even in her despair, with her eyebrows knitted in a frown, Yenis looked enchanting, bewitching, a beauty.

 "The truth is, even if my husband had been there, he would have been, along with the rest of his family, powerless to stop these wretches."

 She sighed and continued in a murmur, "Though shrewd and cruel, he's old and cowardly, the same as them."

 Looking up at Fradel shyly, apologetically yet grateful too, she added in a stronger voice, "Though I've only known you, sir, for a short while, I feel I can unburden my very soul to you.  Yes, you have a most trusting disposition and have entirely won my confidence.  Truly, I feel I can trust you with my very life."

After a brief pause Yenis then told Fradel how her abductors had drunk heavily, joked and cursed roundly for the rest of the night, poking fun at her.  Finally, the bandit chief, seeing the night almost spent and still lusting after her, had hauled her over his shoulder and carried her to a private room where he meant to molest her.  After bolting the door from the inside, he had released her from her bonds and, smiling peevishly, had tried to woo her with sweet words and promises of marriage once they had reached his lair.  When this got him nowhere the brute tried to force his lustful intentions on her. Savagely smiling, he'd shamelessly groped after her and, hurled his enormous body onto the bed. At this point she gave a shudder and, hanging her head, remained lost in thought for a moment.  "I prepared to fight him with all my might." she said, looking up once again. 

"By good fortune my virtue is still intact." she smiled wryly.

 "No, perhaps it was not fortune; perhaps it was that Heaven took pity on me; for the rogue was so inebriated (intoxicated) that, when he made the attempt, coming at me like the charging mad bull, he stumbled and his head hitting hard the pole of the bed, simply passed out.  Seizing this chance to escape this fate worse than death I rushed to the door, unbolted it and burst outside like a madwoman.”

 “I don't know how many times I fell (stumbled) during my escape; still, each time I cupped my mouth to stifle the cries of pain.  I do not know in which direction I fled, I just ran and ran, beside myself with fear, trying to get as far away from them as I could.  Then at one point, as I leaned against a wall to catch my breath, through sheer luck I discovered the secret passage.  Though mortally afraid of darkness and its ghosts, I nevertheless descended the pitch-dark stairs and hid there at their base for quite some time until I'd gathered the added courage to feel my way down the tunnel."  Yenis cringed.

The following morning, unable to find her in the ruins and afraid of lingering too long and getting caught by their pursuers, the bandits had left.  For two or three days, in a state of shock, frightened by every shadow, every sound, she had waited for the authorities to come and rescue her.  Just when she had resigned herself to death by starvation her savior, Fradel Rurik Korvald, had come onto the scene.  Of course, she had been aware of his presence the moment he'd entered the temple, but she had not summoned the nerve to approach him.  Looking nothing at all like a constable, she feared he was another bandit or an unscrupulous man at the least, else why would he be at this temple.  She stayed out of sight, praying that he, too, would go away.

Desperation and hunger had finally driven her out in the middle of the night, candle in hand, hoping to steal some of his food.  Not knowing how to ride, she had not gone for the horse.  Halfway into her errand she had lost her nerve and, turning on her heels, ran away without confronting Fradel.

"Oh, those days before your arrival, sir, I had suffered so terribly."  She cringed, adding in a tragic tone, "I was practically driven into madness.  I was a lost soul, severed most cruelly from my loved ones, from my protective home by that knave.  My brothers-in-law, Latham and Hacket, pshaw!  For all their boasting and martial arts training, they sure proved useless, weaklings and cowards when it came to facing real adversity.”

“Had I, had someone like you, sir, to protect me none of this would have happened, though it is some consolation that my virtue is still intact.  Still, I will live forever more, in fear that it could happen all over again.  My peace of mind has also been stolen.  Can I ever feel safe again?" She bemoaned cupping her face.

Despite Fradel's (Nevetsecnuac’s) council against it, Yenis downed several more cups of wine, claiming the need to forget her tribulations.  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), conforming to the rules of etiquette, also consumed the same measure at her insistence.  Slightly inebriated, her mood turned coquettish.

"Oh, why must you sit so far away, my voice is going hoarse from shouting?"  Yenis rose to her feet and wove her way across the room towards him.

 "It seems that we were fated to meet Master Fradel."  A tint of red spread across her girlish cheeks as Yenis sat herself close by, “Just as I was fated to be saved by you from this terrible ordeal." Again, Yenis thanked him most profusely.

 In truth she was quite beautiful and almost matchless in grace and allure.  But Yenis’s charms had failed to win him over, for it paled in comparison to Nevetsecnuac’s true beloved Teuquob, who, as far as he was concerned, far surpassed any and all other women in feminine (attributes,) beauty and charm.

"Yes, I'm most fortunate to have come across a gentleman scholar as upstanding as yourself." she smiled bewitchingly.

"Few men could measure up to your moral integrity, Master Fradel.  You must definitely be an immortal, or an angel."  She chuckled as she nodded her head.

"Though I'm here, entirely at your mercy, you have not tried, not one bit, to take advantage of me.  I mean, what can I do if you decide to take certain liberties with me?" Her face flushed (crimson).

"I'm not as strong willed as I was but three days ago, and with all this drink in me..."

Yenis stifled her giggle.  There was more than a touch of provocation in her voice as she glanced at Nevetsecnuac from under her fluttering long-lashes, dropping a few more improper hints.

Yenis spoke alluringly and looked utterly bewitching, as she glanced at Fradel (Nevetsecnuac).  Another in his place, not possessing his integrity and moral rectitude, would have long ago (surrendered to man’s basic urges and) succumbed to her charms.

 As it was, Fradel's (Nevetsecnuac’s) head was lowered and, his thoughts having long since drifted back to his beloved wife, he heaved a deep sigh of longing (pining) for Teuquob.

 In his slightly inebriated state, he envisioned her guileless smile, and his heart ached, yearning to embrace her just once more.

Encouraged by his silence, Yenis continued to pretend, hardly noticing the strange changes (transpiring within her) in herself.  Perhaps it was her recent brush with death, perhaps it was the deprivation of the last few days, or perhaps it was a feeling borne out of gratitude, or was it the wine?  Whatever the cause, she gazed at this rather striking figure of Fradel, feeling at first strongly drawn to him then, suddenly, she was consumed with unrestricted desire.

How handsome his features are, how physically fit he is!  She looked at him, starry eyed.

Indeed, Fradel cut a striking figure of a man; his chivalry, his handsome looks, enhanced, despite his ordinary (riding) garments. He appeared to her most irresistible, liken to a demigod, and, unwittingly, ignited the long-forgotten flames of passion within her.  It now took all her willpower to resist the temptation to brazenly throw herself into his warm embrace.

He’s such an exceptional being, to have so readily, so solemnly agreed to do all he could for me; promising to restore me to the safety of my home and to the bosom of my loved ones; all that with no hint of any repayment.   I've never met (come across) anyone as selfless and as decent as this scholar, Fradel.  Is he for real?  Could this, after all, be only some delirium? 

No, she pinched herself (wanting confirmation); no, I'm not dreaming.  He's real, all too real!  Suddenly her expression clouded over, and a frown settled on her features. 

Then, what's wrong?  I know my beauty is irresistible to men, why hasn’t he tried to woo me to win my affection or, basically, seduce me? 

Her thoughts straying (drifting), she once more luxuriated in fanciful imaginings:

 Oh; we would make such a handsome couple, too.  I would be so happy with him.

 She affixed her questioning gaze on Fradel's lowered face. If only he…. But then, suddenly, a frown appeared on her face. Oh, I’m so terribly, terribly unlucky. Why couldn't it be him, instead of that wrinkled old brute they forced me to marry? 

 I know he has not taken offense, for he has not reproached me or taken his leave which can only mean one thing…. Hmm?...

Yes, of course, she just then smiled knowingly. He's bashful… That must be it.  Sure, he needs a little more encouragement, that's all. 

Her (intrinsic psyche) conscience, suddenly in conflict with her aspiration, reproached her: What’s come over me?  Why am I thinking this way? 

Moments later, the hot flames of passion anew (once more) seared her heart and, with her good sense and judgment clouded, she threw all shame and caution to the wind.  Fluttering her eyes bewitchingly, her face wreathed in smiles, she begged Fradel not to begrudge her more wine, vehemently disclaiming her intoxication.

Against his better judgment, Fradel complied, adding with mock severity that this must be the absolute last, that, after downing this, they must retire.

Her heartbeat wildly as she reached out her cup with both hands to receive the wine.  The meaning of Fradel's admonition had been changed substantially by her own imaginings.  Purposefully, she caressed his outstretched hand.

Fradel, his pure heart denying the obvious, refused to think unkindly (badly) of her.  Quickly swallowing the contents of his cup, he invited her to use his bedding for the night, observed her quick acceptance as she swiftly reclined under the blanket and assumed she must be truly fatigued after her ordeal and having consumed so much wine.  Biding her hasty goodnight, he quickly headed for the door.

Her rippling glances lingered on him, "Must you go?"

Feigning fright, she whimpered, "I don't feel safe here, all alone.  What if...?"

"You'll be safe." Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) reassured her.  "I'll only be in the next room.  There’s really nothing to fear.  Now please try to get some rest, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."

But she knitted her brows, pursing her lips, and slightly trembled as if teetering on the verge of tears and again pleaded meekly with him not to leave.  She declared that she looked to him only with the purest heart, as her Elder Brother, her savior, and what harm could there be in spending the night in the same room with her if he slept apart from her, fully clothed.

Fradel frowned, "It still would not be proper."  He shook his head and calmly urged her to get some rest then he, with deliberate determination, left the room.

                                                                                     ~

 

(END OF SECTION 20)