12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 3

At this point Sovereign Zakhertan was startled awake by the howls of human voices; covered in sweat and gasping for breath he at once sprang to a sitting position in bed. His stern gaze now hinged on the fast asleep Sejon, who lay peacefully curled up beside him with that infuriating complacent broad smile plastered on her rosy lips, Zakhertan contemptuously scoffed and looked away.

01- LADY  SEJON  ASLEEP  (91) b

On second thought, as he had brushed aside his dark thoughts, Zakhertan’s eyesight had unpredictably just then clouded over, and his head same time began to swim. Subsequently, a strange purplish miasma filled the room, and when it parted, it revealed the floating, deceased Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, surrounded by the murdered Princes, their Royal robes all drenched in blood. All the Princes pointing at him with accusatory glare, they called out with silent screams, to be avenged and demanded an immediate, ignominious end to Zakhertan's life.

Outside the chamber violent gusts of wind shook the walls, threatening their imminent collapse. Zakhertan quickly getting a grip on his senses however, jumped up from the bed and, grabbing the hilt of his State Sword, blade now unsheathed, he began stabbing and hacking at the apparitions, only to strike the empty air.

"What is it, my Liege?"  Sejon having just then awakened, her gentle, sweet voice recalled Zakhertan back to reason (sense, sanity).

 "Are you having another terrible nightmare My Lord?" Her subsequent hypocritical angst and persistent queries however, grated on Zakhertan’s nerves and so, his icy fierce glare just then pivoted on her, froze the very life’s blood circulating in her veins. She winced, her tongue stilled, she quickly retreated (withdrew) back into the shadows to conceal her involuntary quaking.

At his point, catching his reflection in the large bronze mirror and realizing his almost humorous state, Zakhertan Yozdek grimaced then, with a huff of derision turned his back to her.

02-  ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (74)

 ~

 

Subsequently, Zakhertan mounted on Night Thunder and riding like the wind, at no time at all, he was back at the North Palace. Though he did not give much credence to superstition, the incredible consistency of prince Herleif’s predictions (the sudden manifestation of a new star which outshone that of present regimes, plus the prophesized resurgence of the old Dynasty after the cataclysmic upheaval and subjugation of Wenjenkun) in conjunction with Zakhertan’s most recent nightmare were such that, they could not be so perfunctorily dismissed.  Both had forecasted the actualization of Zakhertan’s long time innate dread:

That one day a serious peril to his existence would arise from a loyalist assassin or forces colluding with his eternal bane and ardent nemesis Lord Asger Marrog Zhon, who had not only to date successfully eluded (evaded) capture, but had also in all probability, shielded and fostered the last carrier of royal blood, the grandson of Late Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.  Therefore, Zakhertan had good reason to feel ill at ease, for Prince Nevetsecnuac Valamir would be somewhere in his twenties by now; and, if not him, the prince was old enough to have (fathered) spawned other fair-haired (blond) princelings, one of whom could be the prophesized star that would outshine his in the constellation.

That aside, Fradel Rurik Korvald’s strange appearance in his dream, regardless, had at present marked the passive/ aggressive Scholar for certain ignominious death… Zakhertan, whose life these last few months had been sedentary (indolent, lethargic), he’d been languorous far too long, akin a voracious (insatiable) feline on a hunt for a perspective prey (a mouse, a bird) now, was very much elated (ecstatic) at the chance of hunting, though firstly toying with, this allusive yet noteworthy scholar (the game, target).

Hmm… Zakhertan grimaced (smirked) viciously, A secret summons from the PM, few days prior to the original date, should suffice.

Subsequently, Zakhertan’s thoughts moved to far more irksome concern, namely Qarzten Caimund. Now, why had Qarzten appeared as a traitor in his dream? This had puzzled Zakhertan for, despite his inner foreboding (apprehension), he was (absolutely) certain of the Senior Grand Secretaries’ loyalty.

Would perchance there be an unforeseen future act or event that would cause Qarzten to shift (vary, change) his allegiance to him (Zakhertan)?

  No! after a spell, Zakhertan doggedly (resolutely) shook his head to purge the gnawing bud of suspicion and the consequent dangerous prescience (forethought) from his mind, for as far back as he could remember, he’d always held the firm belief that all men, despite the circumstances or the meddling of the mighty Gods in Heaven, could still chart, sway or alter their own fate; and consequently, should be held directly responsible for that which befell them. 

03- QARZTEN CAMUND (8)jD jp

 Mindful of the recent aberrant events Zakhertan nevertheless considered that it might be more prudent if he recalled Qarzten to the Capital immediately, where he could be (monitored) kept under closer scrutiny. As for the other urgent matter, the (almost) impossible task Qarzten was to oversee after resolving the situation in Bacau and Subain… well perhaps the task could be deferred to another, and Zakhertan had just the person in mind. As it were, Zakhertan could not entirely root out all suspicion from his heart; he believed that the more improbable a thing, the more likely it would happen (transpire); especially with one as resourceful (a vassal) as Qarzten, who would be the perfect candidate to betray him. But then, on second thought, Zakhertan Yozdek quickly (abruptly) rescinded that resolve.

No, it must not be put off; moreover, it was imperative that the precarious situation was discreetly and promptly brought under control; and who better than Qarzten Caimund to manage (handle) that arduous task. Admittedly, Qarzten was still the most competent one for the job; besides which, his hasty recall to the Capital might be the very catalyst that would accelerate or fulfill the dream prophesy; or would it be his (Zakhertan’s) inaction itself that might be the harbinger of evil?

To his further annoyance, Zakhertan Yozdek had just then realized how much despite all, he still depended on Qarzten Caimund’s rare abilities; neither could he deny the strange affinity and near admiration he felt for the Senior Grand Secretary. Zakhertan nevertheless, after a brief consideration settled on sending a covert elite group to monitor Qarzten’s activities and, upon receipt of their report, then take the appropriate action to deal with Qarzten Caimund.

Zakhertan’s thoughts turning next to Lenny Sukzor, a wry grin briefly manifested on his lips; Lenny had proven thus far to be both competent and incorruptible, quite the same way as Qarzten Caimund once had. Despite this, Lenny’ future advancement still depended on his competence at handling this most difficult tasks ahead.

Bearing in mind just then, that in few minutes time he would have to conduct the morning audience, Zakhertan picked up his pace and entering his private quarters, had a brief wash, had a change of clothing, and quickly breakfasted, before heading out again.

 

                                                                              ~

 

Egil Viggoaries quite unperturbed by the previous night’s minor setback of Nijel Pinng’s sudden demise, had typically enjoyed himself this late afternoon at an impromptu shindig.  Much earlier on, a highly acclaimed soothsayer had been abducted, of which there was no scarcity in the Capital since the disappearance of the Mighty Dwengzur, to cast a prediction for them. The mystic warrior Kekos, who happened to be an old veteran priest, a sole survivor, of one of the long ago eradicated (abolished, eliminated) religions, though he seemed ageless, had survived these many years by being adaptable and therefore, now served as an innocuous priest to one of the lesser known, though sanctioned religions in Channing.  

04- SEER KEKOS  -23JP

When the mystic warrior Kekos, cast the oracle bones and then looked over to see their outcome, he had grown ashen of face, akin that of the previous mystic Morke, who had the misfortune of not too long ago casting similar oracle bones at another one of Egil Viggoaries’s bashes. Though quite unsurpassed in the accuracy of his divinations (prophesies) Morke had made the singular mistake of being forthright about the dire predictions and this had consequently, soured (tainted) their night’s enjoyment. Outraged Egil Viggoaries (being quite intolerant of any such disparaging thought/belief to foster and take root during one of his notorious letting-off-steam bashes) had hence, condemned the poor unfortunate soothsayer that very night to a most lingering and cruel end. Of course, the subsequent day Morke’s demise had been routinely covered up and made to look quite accidental on the official records. With a similar fate facing Kekos at present, how could he find the courage to speak of the ominous revelations of the oracle bones before him? Hence concealing at once his dread, his left foot with one agile shove, had misaligned (garbled, jumbled) the two specific bones so as to alter the outcome and make it more ambiguous.

Egil Viggoaries who had in fact some clear understanding of the oracle bones readings and an even quicker eye than the talented seer, had observed Keko’s desperate attempt (an unforgivable breach) to deceive him, only he chose not to let on and later still, before the evening’s entertainment got fully underway, had allowed the soothsayer warrior Kakos to return in safety to his humble abode in the shrine. 

At first Kekos could not believe in his good fortune, that he had been spared the Dark Eunuch's wrath; as the night progressed and sleep averted him however, with that night’s events still running through his mind, the more he thought about those (seemingly) insignificant gestures and innuendos, the more imminent became his portended doom. When the bones had been cast and just before his foot had misaligned them, the vivid recollection of that unmistakable fleeting glimmer of recognition in Viggoaries’s eyes revealing that he had understood far more than he let on, still wildly palpitated Kekos’s heart. And after Kekos had been granted leave and he bowed to the Dark Eunuch in farewell, the latter’s unforgettable, ephemeral cold calculating glance, even now sent spasms of shiver through Keko’s spine.

Kekos presently breaking into cold sweat and dismally gazing at the dark ceiling, he inhaled a forlorn, elongated breath and then let out a dejected, mournful sigh. There was no need to cast another prediction! Unable to erase that rancorous stare from his mind, he knew despite his present good health, he would not last another day. He had heard of the Egil Viggoaries’s abhorrent ways and knowing what awaited him the next day, he desired more than anything to rob the malevolent Dark Eunuch of his perverse pleasure. Why should he wait for the odious end, which would most certainly befall him. He had considered for a spell of fleeing, but where would he run to, he had no family, no other affiliates of the old order he could seek shelter with. All had been vanquished long ago; he was the sole survivor of an old religious order that no longer was.

05- KEKOS

Kekos walked over and gazed at his physical reflection a long while in the tall brass mirror mounted on the wall; by all accounts his bearing was still solid, muscular (burly, strong) but he knew it was all a sham, for he inwardly felt that he lacked his old resilient, invincible vitality, he was no longer the warrior priest of certain prowess, that he had once been…Years had been particularly cruel to him, gradually wearing down his strength and stamina. Suddenly Kekos, now seated at the edge of his bed, felt extremely tired of his prolong, lonely existence. It was time for him to join his ghost (specter) friends. Resigned to his ill fate therefore, two hours after midnight (well before pre-dawn) he walked over to his desk, then after lighting a ceresin lamp, quietly and routinely set all his affairs in order. After his prayers at the shrine, he then one last time climbed in under the warm quilt, closed his eyes, and then lay perfectly still, awaiting his end.

As his mind a powerful tool willed his demise, naturally in the small hours of the night, only an hour after he’d gone to bed, fever took him and he suddenly fell gravely ill; but the following morning at sunrise, his mysterious ailment could not be accurately diagnosed, and his condition steadily worsened despite any treatment he received. Finally, by mid morning his organs having failed him altogether, seer/ warrior Kekos was spared further torment and tragically passed away.

Egil Viggoaries was getting ready for the private late-morning audience with the Sovereign Zakhertan when the news of the soothsayer's demise reached his ears. Evil leer on his lips, he derisively chuckled: “Already I am so feared that a mere look is enough to kill a man. What need have I, of any assassins?”

A special dispatch marked urgent was delivered to Egil Viggoaries just then; recognizing the seal on it, he dismissed the guard who delivered it and sat down at his desk. After breaking the seal, he withdrew the contents from it and read it. The letter was from Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple. Finally, his ardent nemesis’s whereabouts had been found! A vicious, broad grin registered on Egil Viggoaries’s lips. He elatedly jumped up, most anxious now, to see Zakhertan Yozdek and to secure (gain) permission for an extended leave. He would personally manage this important matter and, the sooner he departed Channing the better!

                                                                                        

                                                                                    ~

(END OF SECTION 3)