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 28

Crying had offered no solace to Canute, and when the stark reality of his mother’s demise fully sunk in, all reason and sense had abandoned him. 

01 - CANUTE DESPAIRING

His rant (angry outbursts) and hysterical screams next, had brought the whole household to his mother's door.  Customers and servants clambered over one another as they pounded fiercely on both doors, demanding they be let in at once.

 But Canute, in a state of shock had remained quite inert, oblivious to the mayhem outside.  His body was completely benumbed as if he was pinned, crushed under the oppressive weight of an enormous boulder the size of a mountain.  His limbs (arms), as if severed from the mind's control, hung listlessly on either side of him, pulled down by a burdensome weight.  His face ashen, Canute stared with voided thoughts at his mother through the curtain of tragic, bittersweet tears that still streamed down his cheeks and chin to dampen his shirt.

Finally, one of the doors was brought down with a great crushing sound and both Ron and Tike burst in neck and neck.  A small crowd of curious seekers, too apprehensive to cross a sick woman's threshold, craned their necks to cautiously peer in.  Flushed faces became pale and grim as they exchanged meaningful looks and, inclined their heads together in groups, whispered hushed words among themselves, exchanged information and disclaimers of her rumored illness, while pointing the discrete finger of accusation at Tike and Ron.

Tike had gone straight for Helga and began ranting over the spoilt bedding and the trouble that had been incurred, while Ron Kuri had savagely grabbed hold of Canute by the collar of his shirt (at back of the neck), lifted him up high in air, and burrowed his threatening, venomous glare into Canute. When Canute defiantly stuck his tongue out at him, Ron foaming in the mouth, cursed and reviled Canute then spat at Canute’s face. Growling, he demanded snap (instant, quick) answers to his barrage of unremitting (relentless) questions:

"Why didn't you open the door… wretch?  How the hell did you get out?  Who was it that let you out?  Cat got your tongue; answer me, damn you!”

Canute’s scathing (scornful), defiant glare and snarl on his lips, however, earned him Ron’s seething ire.  “Why aren’t you afraid? I can crush you like a bug. I’ll snuff the very life out of you, you brazen, cursed worm!"

02- RON KURI

Canute’s stubborn nature would never allow him to admit defeat; his perpetual, derisive grin, therefore, further antagonized the already furious Ron, as murder registered in his pupils (eyes): "You dare so brazenly, challenge me?" Ron barked, as he violently shook Canute as if he was a ragdoll; he then slapped Canute real hard, not once but twice, right across the face.

Canute’s cheeks smarted (burnt, stung) really bad, but he desisted shedding any tears; meanwhile, the foul, sweaty stench of an unwashed male had assailed Canute's senses, overpowering the lingering scent of his mother's sweet perfume.  Blood trickled (oozed), from his nostrils and from the corners of his swollen lips, onto his torn shirt in streaks of pale crimson.  Although the physical pain inflicted by Ron Kuri tested Canute’s endurance it was dwarfed in comparison to the anguish he felt deep in his heart and so, not a sound, not even the slightest whimper escaped Canute's lips. 

In truth, Canute was now beyond caring, he did not feel or hear any of the heaped-on abuse; thus, highly incensed Ron was robbed of the perverse satisfaction he sought to gain.  Another fierce strike (hit) just then pummeled the side of Canute's head and sent him flying clear across the room to slam his head hard against the door post; consequently, Canute lost his orientation (balance, senses), all about him turned blurry and began to spin.

"You are no good shit!  What did you do that for?" Tike's voice shrieked.  "What if you've killed him?"

"What about it?  Who cares?  Who would miss the wretch, anyway?" came Ron's cold retort.  "Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say!  Let the bastard die and join his mother in hell.  It’s no skin off of my nose."

"No skin off of your nose?  No skin off your nose?" Tike ground her teeth.  "You're going to land me in serious trouble, that's what!  How can I sell him to the Wang family in the condition he's in now?  Didn't I tell you to curb your temper?  You've cost me more money than the skin of your nose is worth!"

As Canute's throat filled up with blood the voices drifted into the distance, echoing meaninglessly garble in his head.  He felt his body grow icy cold, he was tumbling, falling into a deep, dark abyss from incredible, towering heights.

                                                                                      ~

"I warned you not to hit him so hard!  What if he expires before the pertinent details of the crime and the whereabouts of the loot can be extracted from him?  All we have so far is the motive for his crimes." Micen Do, seething (livid), furiously chastised (reprimanded) Mouro.

"Begging your pardon, Your Honor," the Court physician's somber voice just then interjected,

 "I'm now ready to report my diagnosis."

“Permission granted.”  Receiving the signal from Micen, physician Sullen came forward and knelt on one knee to make his report.

 "Despite the gravity of his injuries, the accused possesses a well-developed physique.  In a while he should recover his senses sufficiently to be responsive to further questioning."

"A while..." Micen exploded.  “Am I surrounded by nincompoops, total incompetents?  I demand you revive him now…Immediately!"

"I've done all that's medically possible, Your Honor," Sullen protested, trembling, "but I'm afraid that the last blow to the left temple was so serious that it left the prisoner Canute Yonn in a very critical state. To bring him around prematurely could put him in peril and leave him in an irreversible vegetative state or worse, endanger his life (bring about his death).  We must wait for the treatment I've administered, for it to gradually take effect."

"Nonsense…!”  His life (already a forfeit,) is of no consequence anymore.  Are you ..."

"Please allow me to atone for my mistake, Your Honor." Mouro hastily intervened, stepping forward and falling to one knee.  "If you permit me, sir, I'll bring him around now."

"You... You'll be made to answer for your mistake later!"  Grumbling, Micen shook his head and motioned to the Head Bailiff, Hecun.  "You, bailiff, bring him around."

Hecun rushed at once to comply as Mouro and the physician both quietly stepped aside.  Kneeling, he grabbed Canute by the shoulders and shook him fiercely, shouting, "Snap out of it!  You hear me, snap out of it!  You are in the presence of the Honorable Prefect Micen Do.  Stop this charade, this nonsense at once or you'll only suffer the worst for it!"

When this and other such threats proved ineffective, Hecun, under the watchful eyes of the Prefect, resorted to a controlled battering of the prisoner.  As Micen impatiently drummed his fingers on the table, the flustered Hecun grabbed Canute by the hair and slapped him with his free hand until his hand hurt.

"What did you do that for?" Micen interposed, freezing Hecun's hand in mid blow.

He had become rather apprehensive about Canute's condition.  "What if you've killed him?"

"Don't touch her!  Let go of her!  Mama!  Mama!  I'll kill you!  I'll kill you all!"

"Have you gone completely mad?"  Hecun went back to shaking Canute by the shoulders.  "Snap out of it!  You're in court."

A sharp pain suddenly brought Canute back to life.  Utilizing (using) his innate skill, in a split-second, overpowering (disabling) Hecun, he’d pressed his bloodied iron shackles against Hecun's throat.  In this desperate scuffle the bailiff, despite his robustness, had fared the worst.  Presently locked in the extraordinary (weird, odd) iron's grip, he was prohibited from using his full strength to neither free himself, nor subdue the prisoner.

Fortunately, Canute abruptly came to his senses, sprang back and promptly released Hecun.

"Get him up!  He seems to have regained his senses." Micen intervened.

 Two other bailiffs rushed over at once to raise Canute to his feet.

 Hecun's parting kick was frozen in mid-stream (halfway through) by Micen’s bark, "Let him be, I say!"

Staggering, Canute's bewildered gaze moved from the Head Bailiff Hecun still panting with rage, to the Prefect Micen Do, to Mouro, to the physician Sullen, and then to the two constraining (in part supporting) him by the arms.  Having suffered a serious memory lapse, his crazed eyes, inexplicably next stared at his shackled hands and feet, drenched in his own blood.

Canute’s focus once more became vacant (empty) and all voices (sounds) melted away as his tortured wits (mindset, brain) wandered back to another reality, to his mother, to his childhood.                                                                                    

The wicked past (events) cruelly now paraded before his mind's eye and triggered involuntary shudder as he anew experienced fresh anguish of all those tormented years of enslavement in the hands of the Wang family. 

He’d endured unspeakable degradation (humiliation/indignity), physical pain and malice until, finally, on his thirteenth try; he'd successfully escaped to freedom and to safety.

He grimaced coldly in satisfaction when he recalled how, in the small hours of the night, just prior to leaving the city he had snuck back into the cellar of the cursed brothel by way of a secret tunnel he'd found earlier.

Careful not to be seen, he’d forced the lock and gained entry into his mother's former room, which had remained empty for seven years to rid it of her ghost; then, exerting some effort he’d recovered the paltry sum she'd hidden under the floorboards.

03- CANUTE (in his teens)

 First, he’d made sure both Tike and Ron were in their cursed residence then, returning to the basement, he’d arranged all sorts of flammable material in strategic corners of the basement, dosed (soaked) them with lamp oil and then, at a safe distance, using a flaming arrow, he had torched the entire establishment.

 By the time the fire was noticed by the occupants, his other carefully arranged tinder had ignited all the exit doors.  The billowing smoke and searing flames shot into the Heavens, engulfing the whole building and turning it into a death trap.

Despite the danger, Canute had fearlessly stayed at the scene until he'd got solid confirmation of Tike and Ron's demise. He’d felt entirely justified for this revenge as the two culprits had grievously wronged his mother even after her death.  To save themselves paltry burial expenses and future trouble, they had secretly and unceremoniously dumped her ashes into the cold, fast flow of the Sue River.

When Canute left the city, the raging fire had already consumed an entire block before it was finally brought under control.  His heart was so hardened (by all those years of abuse) that he'd felt absolutely no remorse for the devastating destruction and the unavoidable, lost lives. 

Ensuing years though at times the obstacles lying in his path seemed insurmountable, Canute stoically persevering had carried a clear aim in his heart, to advance methodically towards that other act of retribution.

In his later teen years, fortuitously Canute had chanced on a disillusioned ex-official named Brier, a key member of a powerful gang that had been terrorizing the adjacent countryside. Brier, much impressed by Canute’s resilience and outstanding physique, took him under his wing.  The ensuing years under Brier’s protection and guidance had been the most contented one for Canute; moreover, when the gang eventually dissolved, the skills, cash and wide range of experience, had enabled Canute to move to Denor City and establish himself as an affluent citizen, laying the foundations for his ultimate revenge.

04- CANUTE YONN

   ~

"Why is he not responding?  I think he's shamming (faking) it!  I'll teach him to make a mockery of my court.  You, there!  Apply the hot iron to his chest, and then we'll see if he won't come around."

"Please, you’re Honor, the state he’s in, any further torture would kill him (finish him of)." Sullen hastily intervened, then fell to his knees to beg forgiveness for his outburst.

"Well, just touch it to his upper arm then.  That may even stop some bleeding." Micen donning a wry smile rescinded his order.

Canute's anguished cry as he was branded with the red-hot iron pierced the suspenseful air of the courtroom, curdling the blood of even a few of those eavesdroppers outside.

But mercy was sadly lacking in this court and in this Prefecture.  Many more just sneered, gloated and nodded their heads in approval as they silently congratulated the Prefect when the deliberate cruelty produced the desired result.  The conscious Canute, with his full faculties restored, was then promptly interrogated.

Briefly, though painfully, Canute Yonn recounted the obstacles and the rather odd circumstances that had led him to join the powerful gang of brigands that had terrorized the surrounding countryside for many years.  He was then grilled at length about this notorious gang and its final demise.

Micen, of course, was familiar with the case and approved of the competent, though extremely cruel measures taken by the former (previous) Magistrate Knon Zhour to bring the situation under control.  What he had been ignorant of, and now found to be of great interest, was the internal strife that had existed at the time within the gang itself.  As Canute now told it, it appeared that this infighting had, in fact, been the chief reason for the gang's demise, since those who had known of the Magistrate's planned ambush had chosen to flee rather than warn the unpopular Chief.

"I and the other fortunate few who had escaped the catastrophe immediately retrieved our shares of the collective booty from the secret reserve.  Under the assumed name and the guise of a gentleman I returned to Denor City to fulfill my life's ambition. “

05- CANUTE  YONN

“When I from a distance spotted Senson Luko, the flames of vengeance anew seared my heart. After few setbacks, I set to work on devising a perfect plan.”

 “First, I had tried to cultivate Hacket's friendship, but that overbearing lout just used me.  Then by chance I encountered Yenis and altered my tactic.  My conquest of her came rather easier than I'd anticipated, for not only did she have no moral character, but she also hated her circumstances and sought to escape it.  She was withering away from being subjected to the constant ravages of her cruel, calculating and possessive husband.”

“That place was built and secured like a fortress, and, despite all my experience, I needed her help in penetrating the maze of private quarters and reaching my destination.  My long-awaited opportunity for revenge came the night she snuck me into the private inner compound, then to the bedchamber.”

"The beast had already fallen asleep, and she had to wake him.  Without the least regret, with one swift stroke, I rid the earth of that menace.  I vented my fury on his severed head, spitting in its eyes and grinding his face under my feet.  Then I cut open his chest and ripped his cruel heart from the bloody cavity.  With it still warm in my hand I frantically gazed around for a suitable container until my eyes fell on a carved rosewood box, inlaid with jade and mother of pearls.  After tossing the contents to the floor I placed the organ into it.  Next I severed the finger that wore his precious heirloom ring, and cut a lock of his hair, both of which I placed in the same box."

Micen knit his brows and pursed his lips in an angry frown; he knew just which box it was that Canute referred to.  A few years back he had gone through a lot of trouble and expense to secure that particular 160-year-old box yet had been obliged to present it to Senson Luko after he had expressed such a liking for it in the presence of Commissioner Torrak who, incidentally, was also his cousin.

 "So, what did become of that box?" he interrupted the prisoner to snarl.

"I burned it, along with the contents, at Kuno Temple. The box was painted such that it looked like it was made of metal, but in fact, it was not, it actually was wood made to resemble a metal strongbox."

06- BURNING THE JEWEL ENCRUSTED BOX

Micen cringed.  What a pity!  The shame of it!  He motioned Canute to continue.

"Before leaving the corpse I left in his mouth the token of my mother I'd carried since childhood, an old coin with a hole in it, to remind the Luko family of the grave injustice that had been done to her."

Micen interrupted the prisoner at this point to review the records but, as he suspected, no such coin had been reported, confiscated for evidence, or recorded in any of the reports.  All who were questioned made no reference to such an obvious clue left behind.  This piece of vital evidence could have shed clear light on this case and its absence infuriated Micen.  Was this mere incompetence, or a cover-up?  How deep does corruption, the conspiracy penetrate into the ranks of my Prefecture?  Making a resolution to himself to investigate this thoroughly at a later date, he let the matter pass and directed Canute to resume his confession.

"When I emerged from the room, I found Yenis with her gathered valuables in a bundle, waiting to take flight along with me.  This was a complication I had hoped to avoid.  I tried my best to reason with her, explaining that she should return to her quarters and feign innocence.  I said she would be a hindrance and would seriously hamper my escape if I were to take her along immediately, that it would be in our best interests if I were to fetch her at a later date after things had cooled off a bit.  I made up a tale that I needed more time to secure a suitable home in another city that we could run to.  I even told her that I had some urgent, unfinished businesses elsewhere that needed to be taken care of first.  However I tried to persuade her, she just hung onto my sleeve and would not let go of it.  At the point where I was about to tear it off, she threatened to scream.  At my wit's end, I was forced to comply with her wishes.”

"After taking refuge at Kuno Temple and sacrificing the organs of her tormentor to my mother's spirit that night, I stole away with part of the valuables she had insisted that we take along.  Why not take them?  It was only right that the family be made to pay for it."

 A sudden dizziness overcame him, and Canute paused to steady himself.  "I felt sorry for having misled her, but I knew she would be all right, since I had left her the other horse with the rest of the booty in its harness."

"You are lying bandit!  You're still trying to deceive us.  Why not come clean and admit that you took it all?" Mouro burst out, unable to contain himself.

 "To think that she was devastated by being let down…hah, by the likes of you!"

"Keep your silence!"

"But you know the bastard is lying, Your Honor!" Mouro threw a furious glance at Canute and snarled.

"Who knows just how much of this sob-story of his is fiction?"  He stepped forward,

 "I implore you, Your Honor, not to be beguiled by this deceitful, cunning, dog!"

You dare to openly be insubordinate (question my ability to judge)?  Perhaps you'd like to be the one presiding in this seat? Micen inwardly fumed then checked his temper.

 "It’s up to me to decide on the validity of the testimony, not you."  He shook a threatening finger at Mouro, "I've been tolerant of your shortcomings thus far, but don't assume that you are indispensable.  One more disruptive outburst and I'll have you pilloried!  And that goes for the rest of you as well!"

The appeals of Mouro's supporters froze on their lips as Micen's finger panned by them.  Mouro changed color and dropped to his knees at once to plead for the Prefect's forgiveness and appease him with placating words.

 

(END OF SECTION 28)

                                                                                                  ~

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 26

Canute Yonn swallowed heard, then fighting the blinding, throbbing pain in her head, he continued to relate (reveal) his mother’s tragic story to the indifferent (unsympathetic) ears in court. “Tresor and his wife Suen were a kindly folk; and at the beginning they took great pains with herbal tonics and diligent care, to save my mother’s life. After a partial recovery, however, she was again driven out into the cold; this time the culprit was poverty, and the humble farmer and his wife had to harden their heart to do this.  Their reasons being valid, I carry no ill will towards them."

“How very magnanimous of you," Mouro ejected sarcastically and sneered.

Disregarding him, Canute Yonn elucidated (explained) why he’d so readily forgiven them: "Their deprived circumstances were onerous enough, but that year’s incessant rain had spoiled most yields (crops) and created scarcity. This prohibited any acts of charity to kin, much less a stranger.  Famine had already claimed two of their children, one at the age of three, the other barely a year old. My mother, Helga, was crippled by Senson's countless blows to her legs and could not work the fields or do any other strenuous work; she was a liability and a hindrance to them.”

01-FARMER TRESOR

“Subsequently, with scant clothing and food, her baby a millstone in her belly, my poor mother drifted from place to place, scavenging, begging for alms, to survive.  All the while trying not to hate the innocent child, me, in her womb. I’m telling it as is, when she had later unburdened her heart to me. She had endured these unspeakable hardships, living for the day of her vengeance."

"See, trouble begets trouble.” Micen stroking his beard, mused heartlessly. “They should have made certain of the serving maid Helga’s death before abandoning her in the ditch; if they had, all this trouble now could have been averted."

"I came into this world in a house of ill-repute, where we stayed until the day of my mother's passing." Canute Yonn, oblivious, continued hoarsely.  "I grew up hearing her bitter, tragic sobs every night, for she had never grown accustomed to selling her body."  He gazed dully at the floor to hide his eyes, brimming with tears.  The rekindled pain of those times again tormented his mind, wrenching his soul.

                                                                                       ~

"Please don't cry, Mama!"  His heart breaking, Canute buried his face in the pillow to drown out his sobs.  What was it that ailed her so?  Who was Senson, this name she had so often, like now, cursed out loud in her sleep?  He was seven years old.  He felt quite grown up and he did the chores like grownups, but everyone still treated him like a child.  I'm old enough to understand, why won't she tell me?

He tossed his covers aside and, sitting up, fixed his gaze on the locked door that separated him from his mother.  The room, no bigger than a closet, in fact it had once been used as storage, had a tiny window so high up that it let through only a thin sliver of moonlight.  The wind was howling outside but the dancing shadows in the room did not scare him.

 I wish I could comfort her; he rubbed his eyes sleepily; I know she needs me.

 Hanging his head low he heaved a deep, stealthy sigh wishing he could forget that another, a stranger, who was sleeping snugly beside his mother.  As he tried to purge his heart of the gripping loneliness, troublesome thoughts and haunting questions again crowded his brain.  Why does Mama claim we have no family?  What about my father? 

Canute knew that his father was not dead, for once in slip of the tongue, she had referred to him in the present tense.  But why weren't they with him?  Wouldn't he be angry if he came here and found out she had slept with all these men?

He didn't play in the street anymore, for the other kids would tease him and call him and his mother all sorts of unmentionable names.  Like sharp slivers each name-calling stabbed at his heart.  Many a time he had retaliated with fierceness and pent-up anger, beating and dispersing all those who had ganged up on him.  Unfortunately, swift repercussions, beatings and berating soon followed from his elders in the house.  He was in a no-win situation.  Things will never change; why should I fight back (riposte)?  Still, a faint smile brushed his lips when he recalled the proper whipping, he had given to that big bully Yenn Katog, who was always inciting the other kids against him. It served him right!  And, it had more than made up for the thrashing he got later. 

He now stuck out his chest in self-congratulation.

Canute’s mind reverting back to his father, he reclined and closed his eyes in hopeful dreams, imagining that one day his noble, warrior father, their savior, would appear at their door, looking tall and distinguished, kindly and strong, to claim them.

02- CANUTE YONN'S IMAGINED FATHER

His heroic father would rescue them both from that ugly, intolerable existence.  For, to the marrow of his bones Canute detested this place he was forced to call home.  It broke his heart to see his mother ceaselessly tormented, day after day, by this uncaring, insensitive lot.

 Restless, he shifted his position.  His eyes fell on the discarded old plantation fan Tike had given to his mother.  He picked it up and examined it in the scant light, noting particularly the holes.  Absentmindedly he began gnawing at its edge.

 A few doors down he could hear that old tyrant of a house mother, Tike, scolding one of the girls.  In anger he threw the fan aside.  Oh, how he hated that callous old shrew who intimidated everyone, young and old!

He grimaced, thinking how when he was younger still, his mother had kept him in line with the threat that Tike ate disobedient, disrespectful children for supper and that was why she had gotten so fat.

Unsought, he saw before his mind's eye those venomous, piercing beads of eyes, encompassed by a gelatinous face which split into a threatening snarl to expose rows of rotted teeth.  "I'll get you yet, you piece of shit!" Tike was shaking a fat, threatening finger at him.  "Your days are numbered; wait and see!"  He retorted, clawing the air savagely to tear at her reverberating double chin that always seemed to drip perspiration.

03- CANUET FACES TIKE

 Tike thrived on tormenting people, always caning, hitting, beating and cursing everyone.  Never satisfied, never smiling, except at the guests, and then her smile was more hideous than her frowns and haunted his nightmares frequently.  She flogged him incessantly, not sparing the rod even at the slightest provocation.  Worse still, he resented being forced to behave, to be made to quietly submit to her abuse. His mother Helga was made to suffer the worst of it, for every one of his defiant acts.

He could hardly comprehend the extent of the fear Tike evoked in his mother's heart when Tike threatened to throw them out on their own.  In fact, had his mother Helga not been the prettiest and one of the key attractions of Tike's establishment, the street would have been their home a long, long time ago.

Oh, how I hate her!  I swear I'll kill her some day! he shook his clenched fist in the air.

The weeping and cursing finally muted after the slamming of several doors.  It was the same scenario being played out every night.

The following day Canute received an additional reason for despising Tike.  Canute's mother Helga had been sick for the last two or three days now, vomiting and feeling dizzy.  He was really concerned about her so, after the guest had gone, finding the door unlocked, he'd quietly snuck into her room and attempted to give solace to her.  She looked paler than usual.  When the steps of the old tyrant were heard approaching the door he heeded his mother's directive and made himself scarce.  Not wandering too far, he eavesdropped.

"Doctors cost money", he heard the shrew say.  "Besides, keeping it is out of the question."  A few other words he could not quite make out.  Then he observed Tike taking a small bottle from her pocket and handing it to his mother.  "There, I don't want you to think about it any longer.  I was good enough to get you this.  Never mind where I got it, just drink it.  He assured me it would get rid of the unwanted pest (nuisances).  You don't think this is the first time I've had to do this, do you?"

Canute watched with some trepidation hoping against hope that it was medicine to cure his mother’s ailment, as Helga with some reluctance, a grim, ghostly expression on her pale face, raised the foul-looking potion to her trembling lips.

"Don't drink it, Mamma!  It may be poison!" His fears triumphing (prevailing) over hope, he sprang from hiding place to shout his warning.

"The idea!” Tike turned her venomous eyes on Canute, panting with rage, hands brought menacingly to her hips.

 "You ungrateful brat, poisoning her, is that what you think I'm doing?  You, you a slandering scoundrel, you!  Haven't I warned you never to come here this early in the morning?  How long has he been there?"  She turned to Helga, worried that he may have inconvenienced last night's guest.  She had another good reason to be fearful, since abortion was illegal in Wenjenkun.  She needed to ascertain that Canute had not heard or understood enough to incriminate her.

"I'll tell-on you!" Canute warned, having sensed her fear.  "I'll have you locked up!" he shouted defiantly, not really knowing what he was threatening her with.

"You, wrenched viper in my bosom; I'll teach you to threaten me, you piece of shit!" shaking her finger at Canute Tike began to viciously berate and curse him as she pounced on Canute.

But Canute was too agile and too swift to be caught, not one with her bulk.

Huffing and puffing as enraged Tike chased him down the hall, her shouts to the others to grab him created such a pandemonium that the whole house was turned upside down.

In the end Canute had successfully slipped through those innumerable, vicious, grasping hands and hid. 

By dusk, when eventually the mayhem settled down and everyone returned to their routine tasks, exercising due caution, Canute Yonn stealthily emerged from his hiding place.

By providence spotting the old shrew, he, hugging the walls, followed Tike all the way back to his mother's room.

Once more Canute hid and, from this vintage point, watched and waited with his heart pounding, for Tike to have her say and depart. Tike’s face was beet-red from all that exertion as she huffed and puffed and animatedly gesticulating, flailed (flapped, waved)) those fleshy arms of hers.

What has she got so much to squawk (crow) about?

Curiosity, getting better of him Canute pressed his ear to the door and eavesdropped. 

On and on, with mounting rage and spurting poison, Tike cursed and scolded Helga, as she unmercifully, vented her cruel diatribes on the hapless, ailing (sick) young woman.

 "I told you to get rid of that brat long ago.  He'll never amount to anything, mark my words.  He's nothing but trouble.  You know he's no good, but then you're no better!  Why do you encourage him to come up here?  Are you stupid or something? Mother’s affection, baloney!  All useless emotions!  You've no business feeling love, not for a bastard, not for anyone!  Now you listen!  I'm just about at the end of my patience with you.  I'll only tell you this once more.  Harden your heart to him or you'll be made to suffer.  Then you'll be sorry.  Get rid of him now, I say, for he'll turn on you too one day.  Just wait.  Don't you know the innate nature of all men by now?"

Tike paced the floor to and for in an unusual quiet, as she mentally formulated (prepared) her next set of arguments and rested her vocals.

The door he was concealed behind, (whom patrons sometimes used) was still unlocked.  He pried it on ajar and peered in to see what was happening.  To his dismay, he saw the emptied bottle in Tike's hand as she toyed with it before returning it to her pocket. Tike was careful that way; making sure to retrieve any would be incriminating items (objects) and destroying it later.

 Suddenly, in a much calmer mood Tike, going over sat by Helga’s bed and, her enormous paws cupping Helga’s delicate hand, she began persuading the ailing woman, to agree to something.  Typically, the shrew was trying first, a kinder, gentler approach but Canute knew all too well that, if this did not produce the desired result, she would in (but a few minutes) a flash reverts to her vicious nature.

"Why don't you let me get rid of the pest…? Arr, I mean the boy, for you as well?  You don't have to do anything.  I'll handle the transaction for you.  Why must you be so stubborn? I have your best interest at heart. Why won't you take my advice?  Can't you see that in the long run it would be better for him, too? He’ll grow up in a normal home.  I saw mistress Wang just the other day.  They're looking for another bond servant; trouble is they don't want to pay for a fully grown one. Now, don’t be so quick to turn this down; wait till you hear the rest of it. “

“When she told me of their wish to purchase a boy close to their Therran's age, to keep him company, be his study- buddy and, for to keep their son out of trouble; I'd at once, being so selfless (altruistic), suggested Canute.  She said she'd consider it.  I had hoped that they would have forgotten about that regrettable incident between the two boys.  But listen, if you agree I'll do my best to persuade them to take Canute off your hands; sold for a pretty price, I’ll even get a smaller commission, just to help you out. Besides, couldn't you use another new dress or two?  You really ought to be thanking me for finding him a good home.  You know that if he grows up here, he'll turn on you, sooner or later.  He'll hate your guts for what you're doing.  He'll despise you to the core for ruining his life.  Also, you know as well as I do, that no respectable, good girl will ever marry the illegitimate (illicit) son of a whore.  So why don't you heed my sound advice and get rid of him now, while there's still a chance, while there's still time."

Canute Yonn’s fury rising to the boiling point, he felt he would just explode.  He shook violently, uncontrollably.  He'd just about had his belly full of resentment against that old bat.  Grinding his teeth, he was about to dash out to gouge her eyes out… When,

"I caught you, you little worm!"  A strong hand grasped the back of his neck and lifted him up high.  "So, this is where you've been hiding all this time."

"Let go of me!  Let me go, you cursed dog!"  In vain Canute, eyes agleam with anger, tried to kick and claw his captor, the big, strong bully called Ron, Tike's nephew who (periodically) helped her with the running of the business.

The relentless verbal and physical abuse that both Tike and Ron rained on Canute made his mother livid with fear, worsening her wretched condition still more.  Her tragic pleas for them to stop hitting her boy fell on deaf ears until; finally, she uttered the words Tike most wanted to hear.  Canute was dragged outside, still kicking and screaming, bouncing down the steps until he was violently thrown onto the dirt of the cellar floor.

"I'll teach you to respect your elders." Ron ranted like a mad bull.  "So, I'm a cursed dog, am I, you, ungrateful turd."

He grasped the heavy stick which rested by the stairs.  "You've had this coming to you for a long time.  Take this, and this!"  He pounded solidly and savagely on Canute's tender young flesh.  "Plead for mercy, you wretch, or I swear I'll kill you!"

Despite the excruciating pain, Canute held fast, bit his lip to stop from crying out until he passed out. When he came to the musty smell of dust had assailed his nostrils and dirt coated his tongue.  His battered head was throbbing fiercely.  His fingers tentatively touched the area where the pain was most intense, at the hairline.  Just then he felt a sharp, cutting pain in his ankle and kicked his leg, scaring away the timid rodent that had wanted a taste of his flesh.  His torn shirt and pants had already glued themselves to his wounds.  Though every inch of his body was seared with pain he lifted himself with determination and persistence to his feet. Muffling his groans he groped his way in that semi-darkness, his path barely illuminated with a sliver of light streaming from the small window way up there; with determination, he weaved his way slowly towards the door.  As he had expected, the door had been barred shut from the outside.  His revulsion growing stronger by the minute, he drummed up his last ounce of strength and savagely pounded his fists against the wood.

"Let me out!  Let me out!  I'll get you for this, you fiendish bastards!"

 His strength was ebbing.  "I'll show you.  You can't keep me here for long…I’ll kill you all, you, you…. beasts!”

Curses on his lips reduced to barely audible whimper, his breath now coming in gasps, Canute (limply) collapsed to the ground.  He remained there motionless for an undetermined time until he'd recovered some of his strength.  The urgency of his mother's condition gave him the will, the (fuel) ability to forsake his pain.

05- CANUTE IN CELLAR

Rising to his feet, he first determined the direction he wished to go then slowly felt his way to that far corner.  He was relieved to find things undisturbed and so, with some difficulty, pushed the empty, moldy cart to the side.  This was not the only time he had been cudgeled or flogged then imprisoned in the cellar but, the last time, he had, through his resourcefulness, discovered this exit, this burrow through the wall and, enlarging it a little, had crawled outside, stolen a steamed bun from the kitchen, then returned to his prison without being seen.  He had been smart enough to have concealed the opening of this escape route and had confided its existence only to his mother, in order to ease her anxiety.

                                                                                   ~

(END OF SECTION 26)