12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 2

(SOVEREIGN ZAKHERTAN’S NIGHTMARE ENSUES)

 

Zakhertan, (still in the grip of a terrible nightmare), had just retrieved his sword when this time he found himself suddenly enveloped in a dense, purplish, spiraling fog. The strong rancid smell assailed his nostrils. His chest once more constrained and his head reeling, he nevertheless undeterred, blindly felt his way about, advancing at times on his hands and knees, to escape this current entrapment. When the fog at lower altitude eventually thinned out, he spotted too late the brigands lurking in the thickets, brandishing their lethal arsenals, their mouths set in a snarl of deadly intent, ready to slay him. A signal, a shrill pitch of a whistle slicing through the air just then, however, froze them in their stance. Horses’ hooves churning up huge clouds of dust in a flash next revealed a contingent of masked riders, clothed head to toe in black and heavily armed, at the scene. In dizzying speed, they dismounted and fanned out to encircle him. Their disciplined, precision manoeuvring impressed and deep down exhilarated Zakhertan Yozdek.

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK 999 (1)

Nonchalant (blasé), he at once assumed a martial stance to meet the challenge. At that juncture, one who looked to be their leader flourished his whip and let out a high-pitched shriek; that same instance, from an unexpected quarter another warrior leaped forward, somersaulting in the air, to strike a surprising blow at Zakhertan Yozdek’s back of the head.

Zakhertan’s reflexes being as good if not better he warded-it-off successfully, then went on to fighting for quite a long while valiantly (and fiercely) without a let up against the subsequent vicious onslaughts from every direction, keeping them all at bay. Inwardly though, he wondered how long he could keep this up, for the leader's exceptional prowess clearly matched his own. Zakhertan was about to instigate the most plausible recourse which would have put him at an advantage when, at that precise moment the leader's whip having wound around Zakhertan's neck, instantly turned into a most vile, very poisonous snake. The viper simply arched its ugly head and struck Zakhertan between the eyes.  Zakhertan had soon after lost complete consciousness but sure enough, he did not die from it. Zakhertan’s life was in fact spared by the timely administered antidote and when he regained full consciousness, he found out that he was tightly bound and gagged.

After an unspecified time, Zakhertan was (roughly) hauled up by the two stout, nine feet tall armed guards, lugged like a common, convicted criminal through a tunnel, and then brought (deposited) before a secret tribunal. On the dais, seated in the centre as the head of the tribunal, was none other than Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, who now met Zakhertan's eyes triumphantly. He ordered that the prisoner’s gag be removed.

02- LORD ASGER THUXUR MARROG ZHON (182)JP

Zakhertan after leering menacingly at Lord Zhon, hurled curses at Asger but Zakhertan’s torrent of verbal abuses and curses fell on deft ears! Resisting that strong ominous foreboding gradually taking root in the depths of his soul, Zakhertan challenged Lord Asher Zhon and then each and everyone at the podium to engage him in mortal combat.

He would take them all on, simultaneously, if they dared!

But Lord Zhon's maddening response had been to grin at him simply, condescendingly. The mocking, stifled laughter from the others goaded Zakhertan Yozdek further, to the breaking point. He lunged forward towards the podium to get at Lord Zhon but was violently yanked back and restrained most brutally (with super-human strength) by the armed guards flanking him.

Lord Zhon at this point inclining his head slightly said few inaudible words to the person on his left who, acquiescing (nodded) stood up and removed his mask. To Zakhertan Yozdek’s great surprise and consternation he saw that the person was none other than his most trusted minister Qarzten Caimund.

"You have brought this upon yourself," Qarzten Caimund bristled, his words spat out like acid, “pity you can only be killed but once!"

03- QARZTEN CAMUND (33)JP4

Zakhertan Yozdek’s ire had about reached its zenith; before he could unleash his vicious rebuke on Qarzten Caimund however, the masked man to the left of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon had briskly stepped forward and, with a sonorous voice, his stare unyielding, dispensed his orders in an incomprehensible language to the guards. Once more to Zakhertan Yozdek’s deep dismay he realized that this voice too, had sounded most familiar…But who could it be?

"I am surrounded by traitors!" Zakhertan indignantly hissed and gnashed his teeth as he pivoted his icy, defiant gaze back on the masked man. Nevertheless, Zakhertan could not rightly discern (ascertain) the individual for which the voice had belonged to, even though for a fleeting second, he had about recognized those steel-gray eyes!

Zakhertan’s subsequent taunts were again maddeningly ignored, by which time the guards had already grabbed (grasped) hold of his arms and, unceremoniously, like a common criminal, ejected him outside. With his feet dangling about two inches off the ground, he was being hauled down the corridor towards the subterranean dungeons, when he had unexpectedly just then eyed (spotted) a scholar in one of the rooms they were about to pass by, which Zakhertan instinctively knew it was scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. At this point, as if deliberately (by design), the guards stayed their footing long enough for Zakhertan to witness Fradel mounting the dais and wiping away all the incense bowls, candlesticks, and offerings on the Yozdek Ancestral Altar. The scholar had done this with one sweep of the sword that happened to be the twin of Zakhertan's own State Sword, save for the fact that this blade did not glow blood red but had instead, radiated with clear blue luminosity (emitted blue light). Fradel Rurik Korvald’s ensuant (consequent) strike then had decapitated Zakhertan Yozdek’s full size alabaster statue; the head with a loud thud had hit the ground and rolled till it had reached the doorway. Just as Zakhertan was about to be again carted away, the scholar’s glare squarely pivoting Zakhertan’s, he derisively sneered: "This is what awaits you: Hell, and damnation for all eternity! Very soon, you’ll be made to atone for your immense, appalling crimes. "

04- SCHOLAR FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC) (4)JP

“Impudent academic pest, you dare threaten me?” Zakhertan Yozdek with his (pent up) incessant loathing of the scholar class, in great fury akin to that of a wild beast lunged at Fradel Rurik Korvald, but once more he was violently yanked back by the guards, making the chains bite further into his flesh. Seeing red and spurting venom, his strength fueled now by his erupting rage, he jostled both guards and was about to best them with his super-human strength when, he was bludgeoned (assailed, bashed) hard at the back of the head by a third guard that had suddenly manifested on the scene. All the guards then rancorously (viciously) kicked and punched him in the head, ribs, and groin until Zakhertan doubled over in pain. He was, however, merely feigning defeat; suddenly in a violent burst, he snapped (shattered) his chains and agilely grabbed hold of the weapon fastened at the waist of one of the guards then in lightening speed dealt him a fatal blow just as the guard threw his head back and guffawed. The guard’s decapitated head with a loud thud hit the ground and rolled away. In a blinking of an eye, Zakhertan had next directed the cleaver (axe) onto the rest of the guards flanking him at three sides and instantaneously in three lightening consecutive strokes separated their heads from their necks. Their heads too, one after another tumbled onto the hard ground with loud thuds, bounced then rolled. Zakhertan’s fierce gaze now fell on the scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald.  "Prepare to meet your maker!" he bellowed.

The scholar however quite unperturbed simply held out his hand; he had such majestic bearing behind that formidable unspoken command that astounded Zakhertan involuntarily halted (stayed) his advance.

"It is Heaven's will that we shall duel, but not at present and not here." The illustrious scholar Fradel having then uttered these cryptic words in an even tone vanished into thin air.

"To Hell with Heaven's will…I demand that you be manifest spineless cur and face your doom!" Heedless of the God's wrath, Zakhertan brandishing his cleaver barked his challenge. Fradel Rurik Korvald however did not reappear, leaving Zakhertan Yozdek utterly incensed (exasperated). But then Zakhertan’s good sense taking hold, he knew instinctively that reinforcements would be upon him soon if he dallied in this spot any longer; aborting this fruitless endeavor hence, he swiftly made his escape. He advanced for unspecified time in pitch darkness, stumbling once or twice over a projection (ridge, knob) half- imbedded in the hard ground.

Suddenly, mysteriously Zakhertan found himself transported to the subsidiary highway at the outskirts of the Capital Province Holger. This main artery (thoroughfare) was thronged with dismal (miserable) fleeing citizens of all ages and status, incessantly trudging alongside their overburdened carts and animals, but in the opposite direction from Zakhertan. At the distance, an abandoned Village and fields could be seen still ablaze, intermittently darkening the sky with grayish tint. Amidst the deafening noise Zakhertan too, relentlessly pushed his way through the chaotic mayhem (commotion) which oftentimes sporadically intensified, by the barrage of missiles launched from a hidden enemy post, finding their mark. Zakhertan eventually passed through the battered and unmanned gate, bearing the obvious signs of frantic, decisive battle, to advance towards the second checkpoint. But here too were the prevalent signs of past violent assaults, the obvious mark of defeat and the consequential rampant genocide that had spared no being, animal, or solid structure. And when the incessant (unremitting) winds suddenly shifted, an all-encompassing volley (barrage) of dark smoke and haze anew rushed at him to suffocate his lungs, sting his eyes, and temporarily obscure his vision. Nonetheless, as he made his steadfast (unwavering) advance, he continued to espy (observe) the copious amount of death and destruction, scorched buildings, granaries, destroyed battlements, crumbled ramparts and ditches (trenches) filled with blood-red flow that also encapsulated countless chopped-up corpses in that sea of blood, indicative of the final defense which had failed to stem the gargantuan onslaught. This degree of trouncing of his once mighty forces and the ensued an all-out pandemonium which still raged in three or four sectors, sickened Zakhertan’s heart, and mounted his ire (indignation and fury).

05- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK'S IRE 999 (9)

At least the inner walls of the core of Capital were not breached and the locked iron gates remained durably intact!

Later still, after stealthily unearthing the secret latch, Zakhertan with sure footing had quickly descended the stone steps then, advanced fearlessly through the snaking, pitch dark subterranean tunnels which he had had it constructed a long, long time ago for such an eventuality. After an indefinite period when at dusk he finally emerged at the above ground, an implausible (shocking) scene once more confronted his eyes; as his ears same time was assailed with the incessant shouts: “Run, run for your lives! Hedenko’s wrathful army will soon be poised at the gates! May Heaven have mercy on our wretched souls; may death come swiftly to us all and let us be spared from the extreme savagery of Kontu’s militia!" Consecutively blocking the path of eleven frantic citizens Zakhertan confirmed that, all of Channing’s defenses had indeed been breached and Royal armada had all but burned to cinders; furthermore, the winged regiments to the very last rider, (wiped out, eradicated) had been vanquished and, Wenjenkun’s armies on all three fronts had suffered heavy losses.

Presently, the firebombs from cannons raining down had continued to incessantly light up the skies and fostered still more chaos and cataclysms on core of Channing; this, lasting well into the small hours of the night. Civilians and gentry continued to run pell-mell, scattering in sheer panic and, doing their best to avoid the devastating, searing fires that engulfed everything it touched. The catapulted missiles of rock which exploded upon impact, however, still lodged their shards in soft flesh and rivulets of blood trickled down the cobblestone alleyways. By dawn (daybreak), shattered objects and severed limbs were seen strewn everywhere; the besieged Inner city too, was now engulfed in an inferno of burning, swirling debris that resembled scenes from Hell, once depicted in the paintings of extinct religious sects. Zakhertan knew the portended outcome for Wenjenkun all too well, having inflicted such devastation himself on an innumerable conquered state. Invariably it had led to first, their total capitulation and then, complete annihilation; this time however, despite all the measures he had implemented to prevent such course, his own cherished Channing was the one enduring such a brunt (impact), from a foreign (Kontu's) aggression.

“How could things have come to such an aggrieved state?” Zakhertan highly incensed, gnashed (ground) his teeth.

Suddenly however, Zakhertan Yozdek was back in the North Palace, transported there as if he had willed it by magic. Here too, similar chaos reigned. He accosted two or three panicked palace staff though, oddly, this time none had responded to his queries, commands, or threats, as though he was invisible and inaudible to all.

 Peering into a grand room which in the past had been used to discuss matters of national security and covert operations, he observed (and overheard) nine ministers, not the usual bunch, congregated around the huge round table, charting out a course of escape for those whose lives would otherwise be forfeited when after the anticipated total capitulation. Occasionally they would look right past him at the intensifying panic outside then return their overwrought, haggard gazes to the grim task of discussing the alternatives. It wrenched Zakhertan Yozdek’s gut to see the disillusionment in their eyes; they did not hear his subsequent commands however, or words of encouragement, nor his eventual reprimands and threats.

06- ZAUR STUGR  IN WARROOM JP (7)

Is that one, Minister Zaur Stugr?

But before Zakhertan could take a second look, responding to an alarm bell they had all rushed out of the room, one or two of them passing right through Zakhertan, armed only with their ill-conceived plans for escape.

Zakhertan turned and went down the corridor towards the milling crowd in the audience chamber, noting along the way how the four prized frescoes commemorating his two consecutive fantastic battles had all been shamefully defaced and vandalized. Other brilliant works of art, particularly marble or iron sculptures, by the famed artists of their time were also utterly ruined or carted away; shame of it all, this had happened even before the enemy had set foot in the Palace. Unmistakable signs of infighting explained in part, the failure of the Wenjenkun's strong defenses; furthermore, key evidence in plain sight and obvious to Zakhertan, disclosed that despite all his measures, traitors and subversives had still infiltrated his Court. Heaven knows how long ago Hedenko had planted these moles in their very midst to bring about this devastation?

Zakhertan’s rapid steps led him to the Ancestral shrine (temple); there too he noted how everything, memorial tablets and monuments, century’s old sacrificial vessels all lay strewn about in shambles and in heaps of rubble. Passing by a closed window he happened to see just then, the Royal Stables engulfed in red hot flames and his purebred black stallion Night Thunder being led out of the building with a cloth over his eyes. He at once burst through the windowpane to land at the patio, leaped over the low railing and, surprised that he was corporeal once more, threw the stable hands aside to swiftly mount his beloved horse. His magnificent steed obeying his command and charging in lightning speed, Zakhertan now wielded his state sword to vanquish thousands of the Kontu warriors, which had by then, on mass infiltrated the Palace. But eventually accepting the hopelessness of his situation, he made good his escape and outdistanced any dogged enemy’ pursuits. After entering a secret tunnel and riding at full gallop through the perilous course, he finally emerged at outside of the city walls and proceeded to put a safe distance between him and the ceding (yielding, surrendering) Channing. Mindful of the discussed info by his Ministers in the operations’ room, he spurred his horse towards the west for endless days and nights over the harshest terrain regardless of the danger attempting to reach this farthest point of his Kingdom. His Ministers had spoken of a prediction that there in the wasteland would arise in future, a (virtuous) righteous Dragon Lord. He was sure that it would be he, Zakhertan Yozdek, who would rally and regroup the tattered remnants of his once formidable militia, forming a new, more invincible army (encompassing cavalry, heavily armed infantry soldiers, guerrilla force and legionnaires, etcetera), and after a series of glorious punitive campaigns, retake the land (reclaim his kingdom) from the loathsome invader Emperor Deng Hedenko. Nor would he stop there, for he would exact revenge most foul, and wipe the entire nation of Kontu and all its allies from the face of the Earth!

 Zakhertan would have ceaselessly ridden on until he had arrived at his destination, but after nine days of non-stop gallop, Night Thunder had reached the end of his tether. Zakhertan, now finding himself at the edge of a forest where a creek wound its way out into a meadow, dismounted at a clearing to allow his favorite mount a well-earned respite. Feeling suddenly parched, he knelt at the edge of the stream on one leg and cupped his hands to lift bit of the pristine clear water to his lips; but the color unexpectedly turned to crimson, and that same instant, the water transformed into pure blood in both taste and smell. Shrugging, he nevertheless drank a good measure until his thirst was satiated (satisfied, quenched); unfortunately, he had little success in urging Night Thunder to do the same.

Hearing a ruffling, crunching sound just then, Zakhertan dove fearlessly into the thick, tall undergrowth to investigate; he was hoping to encounter at the end of it a small campsite belonging to Wenjenkun’s remnant squadron, headed in same direction as him, having their repast (meal). In any case, there would be fodder (hay) for his steed. Homing in on the noise (pitch) of masticating, he ceaselessly advanced through the shrubbery (thicket) thick with thorns and thistles, which consequently, bloodied his arms and legs. Unfortunately, Zakhertan’s hopes were dashed when he finally cleared the dense bushes only to discover (come across) a solitary, dilapidated hut at the periphery of a coniferous forest. In bold strides he nevertheless advanced right up to the door and finding the door locked, kicked it open. Audaciously, quite unconcerned of any ambush, he then stepped confidently through the portal; but straight away his face blanched and he guardedly backed away a step.

07- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  ENCOUNTERS HELLHOUNDS 999 (6)

 He was not dead yet; for what reason had he stumbled upon these hellhounds? Zakhertan inwardly queried, eyeing the two grotesque creatures ravenously feasting, tearing away chunks from deceased human corpses piled high in centre of the dimly lit room, as he same time warily retreated (drew back) now towards the door. Halfway, his attention was suddenly rapt (gripped) by the beast that was gnawing on the bleeding arm of, obviously the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s, with his forefinger still bearing a signet ring. That same instance the much larger hound squatted beside it had turned his head to reveal in its maw, a partial torso, and the head (hanging from it only by the bare backbone) of Egil Viggoaries.

The single blazing eye affixed on Zakhertan Yozdek, the enormous hellhound predictably growled and started to rise. Now that he’d been discovered, Zakhertan opted to in haste flee from this terrible predicament but his legs in defiance of his will had turned obstinately sluggish; worse still, just before they were completely rendered immobile (turned to stone), he’d tripped (stumbled) on a jutting piece of hard metal, which send him flying face first through the rotted floorboards and into a deep cavity piled high with putrid, dismembered corpses. When he strove to climb out of this macabre foxhole, his progress at first was stymied (thwarted, hindered) by the limbs of the dead that clanged (affixed) onto him, as though they deliberately were trying to hinder (impede) his escape. He nevertheless quickly dug himself out of the pit of putrid bodies and sharp, fractured bones but as consequence his facial features and body was permanently marred, bore deep lacerations, in at least four or five places. His legs mercifully having once more regained their strength, he darted towards the door; meanwhile, he could hear the growling hellhounds closing in on him fast from behind.

 

(END OF SECTION 2)                                                                                       ~

 

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 30

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

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

01- MICEN AT OFFICE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

02- THE SPY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just then a guard barged in, brandishing his sword.

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

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

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

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

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

"May I come in, sir?"

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

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

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

03- HEAD BAILIFF HECUN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                                                                           ~

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                                                                      ~

 (END OF SECTION 30)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 29

When Canute Yonn was again interrogated, he insisted on the validity (legitimacy) of his previous statement and, without variance, repeated that he had left the horse and a certain portion of the booty with Yenis exactly where he had said he did.  "I'm not that immoral (reprehensible) to forsake a lone woman stranded and vulnerable in an abandoned temple, your Honor."

His assertion made Micen scoff, "You murderous bandit!  After all your abominable acts, you dare to assume such noble, moral airs, with me. I warn you, my patience with you is at an end.  Now, confess!  What have you really done with the booty, other than the trifling amount that was found on you? I said confess, or I'll make you wish you were never born!"

Seeing it was pointless to protest further, Canute imparted what they wanted to hear and, mixing it in with the truth, disclosed how he had given the greater portion of the valuables to Miake Temple in exchange for prayers for his mother's soul.

 "The idea, I profess, had occurred to me in the courtyard of Kuno Temple, when I viewed the tragically exposed bones of the monks, and was reminded of man's brief and futile existence on this earth."

"Such impudence…Tragic bones, indeed!  Go on, but I warn you, just stick to the facts."  Micen motioned for Canute to continue.

Canute lifted his head and, gazing fixedly at the insignia of the Prefect's Office hung before Micen Do, distractedly resumed, "Yes, because the horse proved useless, I had to exchange it and some of the valuables for another one and meant to use the rest to reach safe passage to a mountain refuge."  Canute lapsed into silence again.

 He had hoped to fulfill at least a part of his promise to his mother by escaping to safety and settling down somewhere where no one knew him, where he could grow old and lead an unremarkable life.  A sure fantasy, he had to admit inwardly, yes, a dream that was never meant to be.  A fleeting, wry smile brushed Canute's pallid lips as he closed his eyes and let his body go limp.

"What's the matter with him?  Is he delirious again?  Bring him out of it!"

The bailiff supporting Canute's left arm impatiently tried to nudge Canute out of his trance.  "He's still breathing, Your Honor, but he refuses to respond.  It’s no use, sir, I’m afraid he's out cold now."

"Never mind, let him be." Micen, with a wave of his hand stayed any further attempts to revive Canute.

 "We need not spend any more of this court's time on his testimony.  We've got most of it now, anyway."  Then, with his stern, official visage, Micen ordered that Canute be pilloried until he could reach a supposedly a just decision on the method of execution.

Striking down the gavel, Micen then dismissed (concluded the session) the court.

 As the prisoner was being dragged away, the Prefect, with his secretary, carrying the bulky documents and recorded confessions, retired (withdrew) to his private quarters in back.

Refusing to see anyone, especially Mouro, Micen sunk into his padded chair and began reviewing Canute's confession from start to finish, making notes as he went along.

He then began to dictate to his secretary, changing some parts and eliminating others entirely.

 "When it’s prepared, you will report to me for a final review then you may take the documents to Mouro and have him secure the prisoner's thumb print on the bottom for validation."  Micen having dispensed his final instructions to his secretary turned his back to him and leisurely strolled over to the widow, with his hands thoughtfully clasped behind his back.

 As he peered outside, he grinned in satisfaction.  By the time I hold court tomorrow morning he should have expired, and since there has been no other to contest the case on his behalf, I can foresee no problems.  Hmm, the Luko family should be very grateful to me for my discrete handling of this case, since I've spared them from scandal.  He rubbed his hands expectantly as he returned to his desk.

 Now they should, of course, be held liable for the costs of the necessary bribes to the essential staff members that were present in court at the time of the prisoner's confession; that is if their silence is to be secured indefinitely.  Having reached his desk, he plumped himself into the plush chair and began idly fingering the high pile of documents.

 He was inwardly deliberating how best to approach the Luko family to secure even greater gain, when his thoughts were abruptly disrupted by a knock.

His permission sounded, the underling entered, walked right up to Micen and presented him with the calling card from Esquire Latham Luko.

"Begging your pardon, Your Honor, but, though I informed the honorable gentleman of your wish not to be disturbed, he refuses to go away and insists on waiting until Your Honor is disposed to see him. Shall I have him forcefully ejected? "

“Speak of the devil!” Micen mumbled, then lowering his head, mused. But how on earth did he know, rather, anticipate my intent on paying him a visit this very night?  No matter, he just saved me from the trouble.

 Micen feigning slight annoyance lifted his stern gaze from the document (he pretended to read) and instructed, "No, since he's here, have him come in."

03- LATHAM  LUKO , aged thirty-two

Latham’s stern face, sporting a slight polite smile on his lips, was ushered in at once and, after polite greetings, was shown to a chair.  The congenial felicitations and mutual flattery quickly dispensed with over tea, Latham donning (wearing) a serious demeanor got right to the point and urged Micen to pass swift judgment on Fradel Rurik Korvald when court next resumed, as any undue delay (dragging this matter out) would perpetuate his family’s unwarranted anguish.

 If Micen had not known better, he would have been totally beguiled, by Latham’s feigning ignorance, of the latest (string of) developments in this case.

 It came as no surprise to Latham, however, when the Prefect announced happily that it was not Fradel, but the son of a former servant, Canute Yonn, who was the real culprit. The former gang member had been incarcerated, his confession already obtained (under duress) and, left in the darkest, heavily guarded dungeon to await final verdict.

"Tomorrow morning his case will be first on the agenda when he will be duly sentenced according to law.  As events are already proceeding at a satisfactory pace, there is no reason for you or your family to be at all concerned."

"You are indeed quite proficient Official, to resolve this case expediently, sir.  You really are to be congratulated." Latham circumspectly flattered the Prefect.

 Highly pleased, Micen, after his supposed momentary pondering, gave Latham what he was after, a brief account of the pertinent details of Canute's capture and the key points of the trial.

 Latham Luko masked his unease well as he patiently listened then, nonchalantly (casually) inquired whether Canute's confession had divulged a motive for his heinous crime against the elder Luko.

 “Why had Senson been the sole target; he had never so much as (laid eyes on) met this Canute Yonn? Also, why did this despicable culprit not hurt (victimized) any other members of the Luko family, while he had the chance?” 

Latham was particularly anxious to learn why he, himself, had been spared, but masked it well, behind the seemingly dispassionate general inquiry.  He even, at this point, admitted to his own insignificant, chance encounter with the convict and promptly confessed his cold and haughty treatment, his refusal of Canute's pitiful attempts to gain his acquaintance, with the purpose of securing his patronage.

"I had sensed, even then, that he was not one of our kind, that he was only playing at being a gentleman.  There were too many unknowns in his background and that made me wary.  Now I realize that I had been right about him all along."

He pensively looked away for a moment, “It’s unfortunate that I could not convince my elder brother of my views.”

Returning his undivided attention to Micen, he then asked anxiously, "Tell me, sir; was his motive a misdirected enmity?  Was it an unfortunate act of murder in the course of a robbery, or was it premeditated?"

Most curious indeed, Micen mused.  No questions at all about Yenis's part (involvement) in all of this.  Continuing the charade, he smiled wryly, "Calm yourself, sir.  It won't do (help), for you to get into such a state and injure your health.  As it is, you are now burdened with the elaborate funeral arrangements, on top of bearing (assuming) your elder brother's family responsibilities.  You know very well that I should not be discussing the case with you at all, but since we are such good friends, I feel I can make an exception.  I must caution you, however, that what I'm about to tell you must never leave this room, for reasons which will soon become obvious."

"I am grateful for your discretion, Micen, and your kindness shall not be forgotten." Latham politely bowed his head then sat upright in rapt attention.

"In view of the delicate nature of your sister-in-law's involvement in this case I took the precaution of having the court cleared of all viewers and non-essential staff before a full confession was extracted from Canute Yonn.  I had expected to discover that, after their adulterous affair was exposed, Canute Yonn's hand was forced and he resorted to violence, already palpable (evident) in his nature, to extricate himself from the sticky situation and avoid the impending retribution from Senson.  But, of course, this was not to be the case." Micen rose to his feet and waddled over to the window to look outside.  He could not resist toying with Latham, whose fidgeting in his seat, Micen could well sense, even with his back to Latham.

 Good let him fester a bit and sweat it out. Micen grinned coldly.  Assuming a grim, serious look, Micen returned to his seat to offer Latham more tea.

Not daring to offend the Prefect, Latham assented and sipped his tea in pained silence until Micen put down the empty cup and picked up where he had left off.  "As I was saying, I could not have been more wrong in my assumption, for it turned out to be just another typical case of robbery and murder.  Seeing how your family was so affluent, the ruffian had conspired from the start to rob you by exploiting the weakness, if you will forgive my saying so, of your sister-in-law.  Women are so unreliable, so impressionable, don't you agree?  If you ask me, Senson was too good for the likes of her and certainly did not deserve such treachery.”

“It’s most unfortunate that, during the robbery, Senson awoke and met his untimely end, after confronting the bandit."

Micen's discretion did not go unappreciated.  Latham understood perfectly that he had just heard the altered(distorted) version of events that would be presented in court the following day.

"Unfortunately, however," Micen resumed, "we are beset with difficulties and plagued with obstacles.  The recovery of the valuables, I fear, may be somewhat delayed."

"Please, sir, their recovery is of little consequence to either my family or me.  We are quite pleased now that my brother's murderer has been incarcerated and will be duly punished."

"Of course… of course…  Still, some of the items I'm told are quite irreplaceable, for example one antique jewel box, inlaid with gems and mother of pearl.  Therefore, I will begrudge no expense and leave no stone unturned to effect (achieve) its swift recovery.  Besides which, locating that box may shed some light on some rather haunting puzzles, but I'll refrain from boring you with those now."  Micen, pushing all the right buttons, was deriving a perverse pleasure and some amusement at Latham's expense.

 After letting the other squirm for a brief spell, Micen pretended to change his mind,

 “I’ll let you in on this much, though, as you may know, the box in question was kept on the night table beside Senson's bed.  Am I right?"  Micen paused to receive Latham's nod before continuing.

 "Now, as per affidavit (confession), on the night of Senson's murder, strangely enough, its entire contents were dumped onto the floor.  Senson's steward and chambermaid, both supposedly drugged on the night in question, verified and accounted for all the contents.  Now, why do you suppose the murderer would bother to do that?  To discard them in that way, I mean, especially as these items were of considerable value as well.  Why not just take along the box as is?"

Latham's unexpected reaction, which he failed to completely mask, gave Micen an additional, curious insight.

There had not been enough time for Latham to have been briefed on every detail of Canute's confession, which meant that Latham must have been an eyewitness to the gruesome dismemberment in the aftermath of the murder.  Why had he not then intervened?

Micen scrutinized Latham further.  Was he simply a yellow-bellied coward, who sought to save his own skin, or an unconscionable, cold-hearted opportunist? 

This was not the appropriate time to delve into this investigation, however so, donning (putting on) a solemn smile, Micen changed the subject, "I trust that Senson's funeral arrangements are proceeding swiftly?  If there is anything I can do to assist you in any way, please do not hesitate to ask me.”

“I will come and pay my last respects to him as soon as I've concluded this case tomorrow.  By that time your esteemed brother should be most properly avenged.  On that, sir, you may have my personal assurance."  Micen fell silent and anxiously fingered the pile of documents on his desk.

Latham, taking the hint, stood up and bowed.  "I've already taken far too much of your valuable time, Your Honor." He then thanked Micen most humbly and sincerely.   "I'm afraid our family has put you to too much trouble, sir.  Still, you will not find us ungrateful.  In the days to come we must think of ways of repaying your kindness in full."

His promise delighted Micen.

"You are embarrassing me, sir." The Prefect ejected gleefully as he walked Latham to the door.

 "I am a mere official who is only following procedures and doing his duty.  Why make such a big deal of it?"

 Inwardly, as Micen congratulated himself, he pondered on the identity of the informant in his midst that obviously had such free and easy access to the Lukos. But upon Latham's departure, his discreet investigation and the uncovered facts had completely exonerated his chief suspect, his assistant Mouro.

04- ALIBY

In truth, Mouro, having anticipated this, had already taken great pains to secure himself a tight alibi while directing all suspicion to likely culprits such as the head bailiff Hecun and the court physician Sullen.

Latham Luko, true to his word, lost no time in sending his agents to dispense generous bribes to all those who had been present in court for Canute's confession. 

                                                                                 ~

During the small hours when everyone was fast asleep, the guards stationed outside of Canute’s cell, having suddenly overcome with unusual fatigue, they had all fallen into deep stupor. In that short span, unbeknownst to all, a strange (bizarre) occurrence took place; the prison cell which had housed Canute, suddenly was infused with vapors and blinding light.  When it passed (cleared up), Canute’s strung up body (still locked in the pillories) had entirely disappeared without a trace.

Next morning at dawn, when Canute's missing body was discovered, Micen, wishing to avoid controversy and likely trouble from superstitious groups, gave the order of secrecy on pain of death; and so, the matter was expediently covered-up (whitewashed, smoke screened). A short time later, Micen in court, briefly announced that prisoner Canute Yonn succumbing to his excessive injuries, had expired during the night  and his corpse had already been promptly disposed (Another condemned, disfigured prisoner’s corpse in place of Canute Yonn's, had been chopped up  and then fed to the wild dogs); subsequently, a different version of Canute’s confession was read out loud, and no one in court cried foul. Earlier still, a pseudo (fake) Canute’s head, badly disfigured and unidentifiable, had been secretly transported to the Luko mansion for apt disposition: According to prescribed ancient customs, the perpetrator’s (culprit Canute’s) skull, once stripped of flesh and scorched by fire, would then be placed beneath Senson's corpse’s feet at his burial ceremony, condemning Canute's spirit to eternal servitude to the deceased Luko clansman.

As it were, even though Senson's murder case had generated much public interest, only a fraction of the previous crowd of spectators had filed into the courtroom on the day of sentencing.  Many of the curious onlookers were, understandably, scared off by their memory of the grizzly-red-haired Devil.

05- GRIZZLY RED-HAIRED DEVIL

 When the prisoners, Yenis Luko and Fradel Rurik Korvald were next brought in court, the sorry state of the woman created quite a stir and a shock among few that were in attendance.  Disappointedly, Fradel Rurik Korvald, however, looked none the worse for his ordeal.

The presiding prefect Micen Do in his splendid attire, feigned confidence (boldness), despite the fact he had tripled his posting of guards, as he proceeded through the preliminaries and moved to the judgment and sentencing.

Yenis Luko was sentenced to be decapitated (guillotined), the execution to be carried out at noon on the same day on the public execution grounds in the center of the city.  Upon hearing this she shrieked and passed out cold.  She too, was then dragged out by two bailiffs and put into the cell for the condemned to await (wait for) the appointed hour of her doom.

At this point a second squad of bailiffs entered the courtroom and took up positions with the first.  The prisoner Fradel Rurik Korvald was brought in before the bench for sentencing.  Micen spoke slowly, aware of the crowd in the room holding its breath and straining to hear every word.

"Prisoner Fradel Rurik Korvald, by the judgment of this Court, you are found to be not guilty of the charges of murder, mutilation and robbery of the Honorable Esquire Senson Luko.  You are therefore absolved of all charges and no punishment will be laid against you."

The crowd groaned and gritted their teeth in contempt, they had been hoping for additional execution that afternoon.

"The court will now consider the charge of trespassing on the restricted grounds of Kuno Temple in violation of Imperial Edict."

Suddenly all ears perked up and a dead silence prevailed.

"Despite your ingenious defense, and your plea for leniency, the law is most explicit in its stipulation that no exceptions, regardless of circumstance, be made.  In accordance with that law, I judge you, the defendant, guilty as charged and sentence you to death, also to be carried out by beheading."

The crowd breathed a sigh of relief, anticipating their entertainment, only to be disappointed once more.

"Due to the consideration of you special circumstance, I hereby set the place of execution as the Capital city, Channing, and the date of execution to be a day after the completion of the services due his Imperial Highness, Zakhertan  Yozdek.  The exact time and date are to be determined by the Board of Punishment in that city.  You, of course, are free to appeal your case to the Board before that time, and also to seek an Imperial Pardon from His Highness.  Commencing at daybreak tomorrow, you will be transported with armed escort to Channing in an enclosed and locked prisoner's cage.”

“You will be let out of the cage for a brief physical examination upon your successful transfer to the authority of Magistrate Rue of Cheabirger Prefecture in Tenzo Province and not before then."

06- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC)

 As he was being led away by four bailiffs, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) reflected gravely on how he could make good his escape from this impasse.

The impressed spectators remained in awe of Micen's courage.  After nervously glancing about, they converged outside in groups to mechanically nod their heads and exchange similar views in whispers.

"See, His Honor cannot be intimidated!"

"Micen Do is really a firm judge."

"He's to be commended for his courage."

"He upholds the law to the letter, without exception."

"To be transported all that way in that fashion is as good as being condemned to death, the prisoner will never survive the ordeal."

"As sure as my nose is on my face, Fradel Rurik Korvald will never reach the Capital alive to appeal his case."

"I tell you; I wouldn't be so bold or as brave as His Honor.  Not with that threat hanging over my head."

"Nor would I!"

"Nor I!"

One after another, they all concurred then left to get some lunch before making their way to the public execution grounds.

Though the proceedings had created an excessive backlog of cases, which would normally force the Prefect to convene court twice daily, Micen Do deferred all the pending hearings to a later day and, with a stack of documents tucked under his arm and a heavy guard at his side, left the building shortly before noon.

Now of course few had harbored the curious enigma (conundrum) in mind and had queried inwardly of what had really happened to Canute Yonn. This dilemma, however, would never be resolved for years to come.

 But Canute Yonn had in fact was rescued by a non-other than, invincible warrior called Zonar.

07- ZONAR KUNTZU

At prior time, whilst the apprehended Canute Yonn burdened with cangue and chains, awaited in the hallway for his turn in court, to be taken before Micen Do, Zonar, detecting Canute’s unusual aura and so, fleetingly manifesting there, had only askance (sideways), given Canute a cursory look. But in that instance, Zonar’s keen senses (radar, insight, mental probe) having promptly penetrated Canute’s mind and the depths of his soul, he’d promptly learned all he needed to know about this steadfast young man. Canute’s entire life history (his tragic, past ordeals) then an open book, and furthermore, what his portended future was, this intrigued same time had infuriated, Zonar. After that, Zonar could not idly stand by and let this remarkable young man be subjected to extreme torture till he perished at the hands of such despicable villains.  So yes, Zonar had paid Canute a visit, on that last night of his incarceration, before the day of execution.  And true enough, if he had not, Canute would have expired from his severe wounds that very night.

In that blinding flash of light and vapors, manifesting for a spell, he had freed Canute Yonn from his chains and then instantly transported (whisked, zipped) him to a, far away place, a densely forested hilltop, in a remote northern region of Wenjenkun, bordering Korion. There, Zonar invoked one of his invocations (spells) and instantly restored Canute Yonn, to his former physical and mental health.  Canute coming to, was shocked to see Zonar before him, however, quickly overcoming his shock and fear, grasping what must have happened, he'd fallen on his knees and humbly thanked his benefactor for saving him. Zonar, after simply nodding, snapped his fingers and the two were instantly transported to a deep cavern in the mountainous region of Korion.  Having recognized the great potential of Canute Yonn, Zonar, scribbled an undecipherable (obscure, cryptic), message on a just then produced peace of parchment, sealed it up in a bamboo tube.  Zonar entrusted this to the care of Canute Yonn, along with his brief verbal instructions. Canute, hence, learned of which path to follow to safely descend the mountain and to reach a remote mountain village, ruled by discerning and honorable clan. This ancient indigenous tribe populated by warrior type hunters and gatherers (herbalists) would welcome him and if he cared to stay there a while, a season or two, he would then learn how to fight, ride and hunt, as well, acquire rare, valuable, lifesaving aptitudes (abilities, pointers) that would serve him well in future years. Canute was then directed (instructed) to, where he should go from thereon, whom to contact to receive arms, employment and place to permanently set up roots. Remembering another detail just then, Zonar reached into his inner pocket and gave Canute Yonn a leather pouch, containing a generous amount of funds, (Korion’s monetary means, monies), for the anticipated, future incurred expenses. Zonar then impatiently, dismissing Canute’s sincere heartfelt gratitude and words of thanks, (for he had to be urgently present elsewhere), he simply nodded and said, “There is no need. As you are destined for greatness, we will meet again one day.” And then, puff, instantly he (Zonar) vanished (disappeared) into thin air, leaving Canute Yonn all alone in that enormous cave.

                                                                           ~

(END OF SECTION 29)