12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 1

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (93) AND SEJON

Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek having sated his rudimentary carnal desire and now peacefully snug in Lady Sejon's arms envisioned the time when, the Royal court would summarily be purged of all parasites and he, mounted on his favorite black stallion at the head of a great army, would lead the final decisive onslaught against formidable foe Emperor Deng Hedenko of Kontu, who would also anon be vanquished.

02- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEK 78

The macabre battle scenes sequentially flashing before his mind's eye and thus with all the cares of the day gradually receding into his deeper subconscious, Zakhertan eventually succumbed (drifted off) to deep slumber. His sleep of late unfortunately, had been perpetually inundated by increasingly more brutal, more sadistic dream episodes; typically, thus, the complacent smile on his lips not long after melted away, turning instead into a vicious snarl. His face subsequently creased into a grimace of pain as he turned and tossed, thrashed this way and that, held fast in the grip of yet another dreadful nightmare.

Zakhertan dreamt that he was holding a late-night session in an archetypal Royal Court; below the dais extended, as far as the eye could see, two rows of, servile courtiers to the left, stiff, and circumspect high-ranking military personnel to the right. All were kowtowing to him and anxious to anticipate his every wish or whim, but when the night's session concluded and he, rising, turned to leave, behind his back they had all instantly transformed into growling grotesque beasts with razor sharp teeth, salivating at the mouth, ready to rush forward to pounce on him and to devour him. Perceiving this danger, when he turned with his brandished sword to confront them however, they had all, at the sound of a thunderclap, vanished in a puff of smoke and he suddenly found himself standing in midst of a desolate arid land with miasmic atmosphere.

03- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK 999 (8)

Sharpening his focus, he looked about him far and wide; at first there was nothing discernable but then gradually he was able to detect, just barely, the undulating (rolling) grayish hills at the perimeter. The hillside gradually becoming more visible, he noted that it was mottled (speckled) with stark trees with majority of the barren branches already having turned to charcoal.

The onset of seismic tremors at that moment however, forced Zakhertan to focus his attention on keeping his balance. When quakes finally ceased, scant time for relief, he was horrified to note that just where he was standing, his foot was precariously rested at the edge of a sheer precipice. Gingerly (with care) he stepped back, and just in time too, for no sooner had he done that, the ground underfoot simply gave way and large chunks of earth and rock debris tumbled into the abyss.

Zakhertan used the back of his hand to perfunctorily wipe the perspiration off his forehead, as it had suddenly grown unbearably hot, and then looked up at the sky to investigate the source. But the mounting radiance of the sun blinded him, as the intense, searing heat scorched his face and neck. Shielding his eyes Zakhertan instead, scanned the arid and inhospitable landscape for any identifiable marks, for suddenly he was beset with the nagging feeling that he had been there before; meanwhile, the hairs on the back of his neck had bristled with strong akin sense of impending doom.

His gaze offhandedly cast on the ground, where seemed to be an unusual small mud puddle in this arid environment, containing hundreds of shrunken, yet atypical, human skulls; moreover, there beside some discarded ropes, he detected a slight movement, then the emerging from the mud, four strange brown shapes, which he assumed were either some living bugs, shelled crustations or, simply dislodged odd pieces of rocks and pebbles.

Nevertheless, as this had piqued his curiosity, bending, he reached down and scooped up a handful of this portion of the mud which contained presumably squirming (writhing), live minute creatures that resembled rocks.

04- MUD AND SUCH

Upon his closer scrutiny, his brows knit, for he’d just then realized that all four invariably resembled tiny mud-humans; and, when he endeavoured to have a closer look, each of the four upturned heads that had where their faces should be- a pair of glowing eyes suddenly blazed and shot out rays at him. He had instinctively, however, pulled back, and the rays instead, singed (scalded) the few unruly short hairs that stuck out from his bearded chin.

 That same instant an abundant fetid larva gushed out from the sockets of what used to be eyes, noses, and mouths of six or seven skulls that had laid halter skelter and partially buried in the muddy ground. Few of them with mouths bearing serrated teeth and elongated incisors (fangs), leaped onto his palm and at once begun aggressively burrowing down their fangs and (sucking) feeding on his blood. Riled, Zakhertan took out his short knife from his side pocket and began digging out these annoying miniature skulls one at a time from his now disfigured, bloody palms; he then simply scraped the blade clean on his sleeve.

The all-pervasive eerie silence meanwhile had begun to grate on his nerves; it ended abruptly however, when unexpectedly the rising winds drove the flotilla of clouds to instantaneously mantle (shroud, blanket) the sky and earth in pitch darkness. The armada of clouds above violently collided in tumult as the air was cleft (split, fissured) repeatedly by bolts of lightning, three of which missed him, only just!

The gyrating streams of air on land meanwhile, had churned up clouds of dust and debris to blind and suffocate him. And then, the resultant downpours turning into a terrible deluge, the sweeping currents whirled everything about round, trapping his legs in knee deep dense, murky waters; he was submerged within minutes of it, but now in what resembled the turbulent waters of the vast ocean.

05-SWEEPING CURRENTS WHIRLED ABOUT ZAKHERTAN

His situation soon became dire, for the levels rising ever so steadily, it had already reached his chest and shoulders; Zakhertan now tossed about, the churning waves threatened to within seconds entomb him in that watery grave.

He exerted great effort and swam for a long while till he reached the rocky shoreline; there, keeping afloat and seeking to extricate himself from this terrible predicament, Zakhertan‘s eyes coolly searched for any probable goats’ path.

If he could hang on to protruding rocks, laborious though it may be, he could climb the wall of vertical, steep rising cliffs to reach safety.  

06- THE STEEP (JUGGED) HILLS AT SHORELINE

But then suddenly Zakhertan was transported back on land and furthermore transformed, he stood, looking more like a demigod, a giant of a man towering well over forty or, maybe more feet, and intriguingly, it looked nothing like him. Zakhertan’s incredibly muscled chest was bare, his wavy (curly) hair and beard which sported silver streaks, were waist long.

Meanwhile, the hurricane force air swirled around him (demigod Zakhertan) as constant (continual) tremors rocked the very ground (making it unstable and most difficult for Zakhertan, to maintain his balance), as it created rising mounts and dents.

Mammoth fissures (cracks, crevices), titanic splits (tears, openings, rifts) hazardously, figuratively in a single breath of Heaven, manifested on ground that could instantly swallow unyielding colossal boulders and enormous portions (chunks) of land.   Earth trembled incessantly (as if in fear) and suddenly all becoming extreme, amazingly, it birthed (delivering, giving birth) pyramidal rocks which violently jutted upwards, rising from the red earth.

07- ZAKERTAN AS THE DEMIGOD IN HIS DREAM

An abrupt deafening boom, akin to detonation, directed Zakhertan’s attention just then to the yonder (far away), undulating hills. He, once more his old self, watched with annoyance, for his feet were suddenly, weighing like led and were now solidly mired in the dense sludge; meanwhile, the fast-approaching violent torrents, which had now turned into an avalanche uprooting charcoal trees (he’d seen prior) churning and merging them with all kinds of rubble and sharp metal debris. Refusing to (concede) accept his ill-fate, however, Zakhertan, stoically strove to free his limbs from this obdurate entanglement and finally succeeding, swam towards the only stationary object, a huge odd-shaped boulder that had just then come into view. By then lightning had stopped, but the pelting rain still would not let up.

Zakhertan quickly climbed on top of this boulder which was well above the rushing deluge; squatting he barely caught his breath when a groan emanated from the depths of the rock, and it began to shift. A head popped on the north side of it, then two more hideous heads popped along each side, the thing now resembling a numinous turtle with three heads (creature) and, all of them turning to face Zakhertan, they menacingly grinned at him.

08- DEMON TURTLE IN DREAM

At that very moment Having exchanged one catastrophe for another, Zakhertan Yozdek was contemplating jumping off or, somehow subduing the demon turtle when just then, a huge winged black bird swooped down from the clouds (sky) and his claws fastened on Zakhertan’s flesh, whisked him up in a whoosh, into the sky. And so, Zakhertan was spirited away, hitching a ride with winds rushing past his ears at that dizzying speed and altitudes, for an undetermined length of time. Finally, he was dropped into a nest crowded with bird headed humans.

After staggering to his feet, for the parent bird had already flown away in search of more food, Zakhertan did his best to fend off the ferocious attacks from the famished hatchlings (fledglings) that were trying with their sharp beaks to tear off pieces of his flesh and to devour him. Holding fast to his position tenaciously and wielding his sword wildly, Zakhertan chopped off their heads one after another in a whirlwind of consecutive (successive) strokes; except that each time he did that, another head sprouted in its place.

 He soon discovered however, that when he sliced them vertically into two halves from head to waist, the parts could not unite. Fighting fiercely, his clothes in tatters and covered in blood, Zakhertan Yozdek eventually emerged from the nest leaving in his wake squirming heaps of wiggling body parts. But before he could catch his breath, anon Zakhertan came face to face with another grotesque creature, half wolf, and half tiger, with scales running down its back.

Pre-empting Zakhertan’s deadly strike the creature with an unearthly growl and in lightning speed, leaped onto Zakhertan and pinned him to the ground, his enormous weight almost suffocating, robbing Zakhertan of all precious breath. To be sure this time things appeared pretty bleak for Zakhertan, especially since his sword which had been torn from his hand, lay some distance away; the beast meanwhile, had opened wide his maw, in readiness to gobble him up.  Zakhertan Yozdek in terror gazed at the protruding razor sharp fangs but he was not one to give up so easily; recalling the dirk hidden in his right boot, he wiggled his hand free and reaching down to grasp the handle, in a flash he buried deep the long straight poisonous blade in the creature's pumping heart. Zakhertan then struggled to free himself from under the expired (dead) beast's massive carcass and succeeding, climbed back to his feet.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

(SOVEREIGN ZAKHERTAN’S NIGHTMARE ENSUES IN SECTION 2)                                                                                               ~

 

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 17

Traveling in the opposite direction and towards Channing, Nevetsecnuac found himself constrained to adapt to his inferior mount and the moderate life of a scholar.  At odds with his reasoning mind, however, was his impatient heart which longed constantly for his spirited stallion Fiery Comet, riding like the wind and covering great distances in a single day's gallop.  Finding his slow journey tedious and rather tiresome, his thoughts often sailed into a distant future or reverted back to those loved ones he had left in the mountain cabin.  By speculating on the exciting life experiences of the identical twins, growing up in the mountains under the careful supervision of Lord Asger and his beloved wife, he found some joy and solace in his travails.

01- NEVETS RIDING  IN THE RAIN 

 For three consecutive days it had rained incessantly; though no food had passed his lips, he had been soaked to the skin in the absence of shelter, and he had gotten little or no sleep, Nevetsecnuac remained quite inured (accustomed, acclimatized) to the discomforts.  His only concern presently, however, was for his mount (horse), whose hooves trod laboriously through the muddy rivulets, fearful lest the beast fall ill.

 A faint smile brushed his lips when the deluge finally began to taper off and, a short time later, altogether ceased but the elusive sun, refusing to bless them with its light, delineated the drenched area in a dismal miasma.  The musty smell of mildew rising from the fall's decaying debris littering the grounds spread over the lone rider and his horse like a spider's sticky web, oppressing, choking them in its silky strings.

"We'll soon be out of this.", soothingly Nevetsecnuac patted the horse's main, urging the animal to persevere, but the mounting storm clouds piling up even more thickly atop that glum, gray, lugubrious sky, countered the prince's hopeful prediction.  As if to bring the horse's nerves to extreme tautness, as if to surmount his despair, to increase his trying ordeal, demented winds suddenly arose to pierce both man and beast to the bone.

The next instant luminous veins slashed the sky, and in their wake the deafening thunder tore open the air, eradicating any hope of reprieve.

Pattering raindrops, picking up momentum as they fell, now began pounding, drumming on Nevetsecnuac's head, shoulders and back.  His already drenched garments, not having had the chance to dry in that brief spell of calm, clung uncomfortably to him once more.  Distractedly Nevetsecnuac gazed at the beaded strings of rain decorating the naked branches and the bobbing pearls on the rivulets ahead that had not yet been tainted by the horse's hooves.

A glimmer of hope suddenly sprung up in his heart when, in the distance, he spotted the indistinct, quivering, almost abstract outline of an inn. 

"Well, old boy, your troubles are almost at an end." he coaxed the horse's mane. 

"Now, if you'll be good enough to oblige us with some speed, we may arrive there at least before twilight (nightfall); so, how about it?"  But the horse complacently kept on with his painfully slow trod.  Refraining from flailing at the horse's rump, Nevetsecnuac bit his lip and grumbled.

“I could make better time than this on foot.  How could Fradel put up with such a hopeless, impractical beast?”  He jumped to the ground in a single bound, dismounting.  Taking the animal by the reins, he led him down the path at twice the pace; but in that miasmic (vaporous) atmosphere, he’d underestimated the distance, arriving there still at dusk.

As they approached the inn, the fierce barking of the dogs in back nearly spooked the horse to death.  Too tired to bolt, he responded favorably to soothing strokes of his neck and settled for merely stamping his hooves on the ground, dredging up more mud to stain Nevetsecnuac's fine boots and scholar's coat.

 At once, from behind the screen of rain falling off of the eaves three strong youths (in their teens) had rushed out, spurred on by the innkeeper to greet the traveler. As one, holding a thatched umbrella over the guest's head, ushered him inside, the other, unloading the luggage from the horse, followed on their heels.  The youngest, meanwhile, took the horse's reins to lead him around the side of the inn to the stable.

"Welcome, welcome distinguished sir!  The hospitality of the Dancing-Bear Inn is at your service.” The pockmarked-faced innkeeper smiled and introduced himself as Aguda.

 Flamboyantly bowing low, he greeted Nevetsecnuac at the door, uttering even more insincere felicitations as he showed Nevetsecnuac to a seat.  This fervent reception made Nevetsecnuac a bit uneasy, but he had expected as much from so obviously empty an establishment.  Undaunted, he donned a polite smile, cut short Aguda's wagging, glib tongue as it expressed empathy with Nevetsecnuac's hardships on the road, and briefly stated his requirements for that night.  At once the innkeeper moved with alacrity, dispensing the orders to his underlings, who looked strangely like kinfolk, then ushered Nevetsecnuac into a room at back, which Aguda professed to be quite comfortable.

04- AGUDA

"This is the best room we have, sir." Aguda assured Nevetsecnuac as he noticed the slight wrinkling of his guest's nose as it responded to the overpowering aroma of mildew and dust.  "It just needs a Little airing, that's all.  Under the circumstances, I think you'll agree that opening the shutters is hardly feasible on such a night, but if you should prefer another..."

"It will suffice." Nevetsecnuac demurred, holding out a restraining hand.  "I'll be fine here for the night.  Shall I pay you now?"

"That is not necessary, honorable sir.  You may settle all accounts when you take your leave tomorrow." the innkeeper replied.

He could plainly see the thick layer of dust shrouding everything by the flicker of the suddenly lit oil-lamp and the newly kindled fire in the mantle.  The proprietor, disregarding this obvious neglect, arranged a few chairs and, with fawning solicitude, proceeded to look after Nevetsecnuac's other requirements.  At once he reappeared with a basin of water and behind him, a procession of shuffling bodies carrying a warm quilt, some hot tea and victuals arranged on a tray.

I must remain on my guard tonight. Nevetsecnuac mused as the parade moved through the dust of the room.  The customs in these parts may be different, but I have yet to see an innkeeper trust a guest overnight for the room fee, most irregular.  If it were not for the poor condition of that beast, I would not have gone contrary to my better judgment and stopped here at all.  I can only hope that, by tomorrow, he'll be rested well enough for us to continue on our way.

"Will you be requiring anything else, sir?" the strong voice intruded sharply on Nevetsecnuac's thoughts.

"No, thank you.  You may leave."

The two remaining youths flashed each other a conspiratorial smile, then quickly spun on their heels and left the room.

You suppose you have ensnared me in this den of jackals, but you will not find me all that vulnerable a victim, to be bested. Nevetsecnuac smiled after them. Then, shucking off his wet outer layers of garb (clothing), he carefully spread them by the fire to dry.

After checking thoroughly for spy holes in the walls and ceiling, he found a secretive place in the room in which he concealed the waxed parchment containing Fradel's papers and his money pouch. 

05--NEVETSECNUAC

This accomplished, he washed his hands and face then, finding a dry brown shirt, he put it on, wrapping himself in the quilt and sunk into the wicker chair by the crackling fire.

 No sooner had he settled down than rivulets of perspiration beaded his forehead and ran down his red-hot cheeks.  Casting aside the quilt, he walked over to the bed, throwing himself onto it.  He expected it to give a bit but not only was the thick pad harder than granite, but clouds of dust also rose up at this disturbance to choke and constrict his lungs.  His throat parched, the bedbugs already beginning their feast on his flesh, he angrily jumped back off the bed, scratching.

Oh well, this was to be expected.  He shrugged and wandered over to the table on which the tea and sweetmeats were placed.  Despite the pangs of hunger that now stabbed at his stomach, the oily, gray food did not look at all that appetizing. 

Fingering one or two pieces, he was about to pop a morsel into his mouth when he was distracted by the angry voice of the proprietor outside the door.

"How come he's not back yet?  You should have gone with him to the doctors.  What if he croaks on the road?"

The quivering voice of a child stubbornly interjected, "My grandpa's strong.  He'll be back soon, Uncle, you'll see."

"No one cares what you think!" another young voice snapped at the child.

"Stop bothering Paa (dad)!"  The sound of a hand smartly striking a cheek started the littlest one bawling and Nevetsecnuac heard the crying child being dragged away, soothed by a female's compassionate murmurs.

"Blasted bag of bones and skin's been gone all morning," the innkeeper was heard, to grumble next, "leaving all the work for me to do.  Zog, have you fed the dogs at least?"

"Yes, sir; I fed them a few hours ago."

"Then why are they still raising such a ruckus?  Go and see what's wrong, and quiet them down!  Blasted pests," Aguda shouted after the eldest boy, "always hungry. They'll eat us out of house and home.”

"You," Aguda shouted at one of the other boys, "what are you doing standing here loitering for?  Go to the kitchen and help your mother, your brothers can finish up the cleaning here.  Now, scram!"  The voices moved off down the hall and what was said afterwards was muffled by the whispers and the sounds of brooms shuffling the floor.

Returning his attention to the finger food and tea, Nevetsecnuac lifted the teapot, sniffed under the lid, and then returned it to the table.  If it's their intention to rob me tonight, this foul-smelling brew could easily hide any drug.  It’s impossible to tell.

Suddenly a tap came at the door and the innkeeper peered through the crack he'd opened up.  "Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?" he inquired as he let himself in without so much as an invitation from Nevetsecnuac. 

"Perhaps the tea is not to your liking.  It's the water, I'm afraid." Aguda smiled wryly when Nevetsecnuac objected to the innkeeper (unceremoniously) pouring him a cup.

 Darting a glance at the untouched tidbits, he added, "The meal will be ready soon, sir.  My wife is taking extra care tonight to make you a meat goulash, something that is sure to please your palate.  May I benefit from your company in the meanwhile?  We rarely get any visitors to these parts, especially ones as distinguished as you.  One can't help but wonder what circumstance has brought you to these parts."

Without a pause in his muttering, Aguda drew a chair up to the table and sat himself comfortably by Nevetsecnuac.

 "Ah, it was not always like this, I assure you.  This used to be the only route leading to Wincox City, and then we enjoyed good business.  That is where you are headed, is it not, sir?"  This time he waited to receive a nod from Nevetsecnuac before continuing.

 "Yes, things have assuredly changed, ever since they built that accursed, more direct route; for this road always had been plagued by mudslides. Of course, clearing away a major part of the forest didn't help.”

"And who's responsible, you ask?  Well, two mansions were not enough for His Excellency, Governor Borg; he had to use all the wood in these parts to make himself an even more grandiose one.  Of course, they moved in, plus his labor force to farm here for a time, but the rocky, infertile land made them go bust in less than two years and they all left, but not until their livestock had stripped away every bit of grass or shrub."  He shook his head and laughed coldly, then abruptly stilled his tongue, before he could land himself in serious trouble by his uttering of more incriminating words, about the despised official.

Aguda's narrow eyes regained their former composure before he added in resignation, "You're most fortunate, sir, to have gotten through.  The rains sometimes last for weeks and resulting floods make this section of the road utterly impassable."  He spread his hands despondently.

 "Either that, or the bridge gets washed out. But, of course, how stupid of me; you did not come that way."

From his next round of convoluted, nearly incomprehensible mutterings Nevetsecnuac learned that there were three roads diverging from a distant junction.  One would lead him to a small village; the middle would join the major highway and take him to Wincox City; while the third would land him at a dead end at the washed-out bridge, which had been left in disrepair.

This unusually inquisitive innkeeper, indecorously imposing himself upon Nevetsecnuac, began to, quite blatantly, pry Nevetsecnuac about his personal background, his destination, the intent of his travels, and whether there was anyone awaiting him in Wincox City.

 Satisfied with the fabrications (which as precautionary measure) Nevetsecnuac was obliged to provide, including the assumed name of Svein Therran, Aguda, relaxed his vigil. Having eventually ran out of things to say, he was looking to excuse himself when,

"Oh, bring it in, boy!" he suddenly sat upright, urging the youth, who had just made his timely appearance at the crack in the door, to bring in a tray of wine and cups.

 "I took the liberty of having some wine warmed up for you, sir.  I know that you have not expressed any wish to consume some, but on a day such as this you may perhaps benefit from its medicinal properties.  It will certainly warm up your bones. Please, please have some; it’s the finest vintage we have to offer. It’s on the house; a small token. It’s also my way of welcoming a distinguished guest like you, sir.  Perhaps, by speaking favorably of us to your traveling colleagues, you may steer some business in our direction."  Aguda filled two cups and presented one of them to Nevetsecnuac.

Before Nevetsecnuac had even raised the cup to his lips, the innkeeper, seeming to lack all manners or, perhaps, intent on proving the wine's harmlessness to his guest, quickly quaffed his portion, holding it in his mouth to savor the taste before gulping it down and noisily smacking his lips.

Pretending to partake some also, Nevetsecnuac discreetly poured all of it into a crack between the floorboards and then joined in the praise of this highly scented, coarse, rather unpalatable vintage.  Afterwards quickly putting his cup down, Nevetsecnuac reached for the jug to pour another cup for the proprietor, "Please, allow me."

"Oh no, sir, I must decline." Aguda pulled his nervous gaze from the door to hold his palm out over his cup.  "I've imposed on you long enough; I mustn't be remiss with my other duties.  I'll go at once and see what's keeping your meal.  Please don't let me interrupt your enjoyment of this wine, feel free to finish it in my absence.  If you wish, I'll join you later for another jug.  Please, please now, enjoy."  He rose to his feet just in time to be hailed by his wife outside about some other problem.

"You see how I can't even have one moment to myself without having something go awry.  I have to oversee everything, however trivial."  In this way he excused himself and, swiftly pivoting on his heel, darted out of the room.

Going for the antidote, I see. Nevetsecnuac gave a bemused smile as he drew a silver pin from the sleeve of his jacket.  Dipping the pin into the wine jug, he then drew it out and, quite unruffled, studied it for a time, all the while noting its particular discoloration.

 As I suspected, Nevetsecnuac nodded, whilst he put the pin back.

Instead of showing anger, Nevetsecnuac knit his brows in deep concern for the innkeeper and his family as he resumed his former seat.  Despite his coarse manner, apparent cruelty and deceit, he is still only a tragic victim of his circumstance.  Stroking the stubble on his chin, in deep despair, Nevetsecnuac absentmindedly reached for a morsel on the tray and popped it into his mouth.  Strangely enough, the taste was quite pleasant.

"Don't we have enough already?" the wife's complaining voice came from outside.  "The smell sticks to the pots and they're already well fed.  It's not proper.  What if they turn on us next?  I'm already beset with dreadful nightmares!" she cried as her quivering voice diminished.

"Stop being such a weak, cowardly woman!  They are chained, are they not?" Aguda erupted. “And remember, not a word of this to my cousin. You know how grumpy, sanctimonious and quite unreasonable that dictatorial old fool has gotten to be lately, always wanting things done his way."

"But it's not right, I tell you, “The woman's voice was almost a whimper, "I fear that Heaven will punish us…. It’s not right!"

The voices outside mingled with the heavy downpour drumming on the roof, then both swiftly muted.  A sudden tiredness enveloped Nevetsecnuac, weighing his head and body down like lead. 

Oh no!  Realizing that the tidbits had also been laced, he spat the last piece from his mouth and tried, in vain, to vomit.  By then it was too late, the chemical was in his bloodstream.  The room lights dimmed, and his head began to spin.  He struggled to his feet, holding on the table's edge to steady himself.  He tried to totter towards his luggage, where the range of antidotes were kept, but his legs gave out underneath him and the next instant he collapsed, unconscious, onto the floor.

The room was quickly filled by those who were waiting outside.

"Good, he's done for!"

"Usually one cup does it.", one laughed spitefully.

"Fool, it wasn't the wine that did-him-in!"

"Who are you calling a fool?" fuming, the younger boy shook a fist in his elder brother's face, ready to pounce on him right there.

"Stop all that bickering, help me pick him up and search through his garments.  Quick!" Aguda cut short their wrangling.

 "Why must you two always argue?" he glared at the boys.  "I don't understand where you get your tempers from.  Haven't I always preached tolerance and patience between blood relations?  Why can't you two be like Kenny?"  Turning, he asked the eldest, "I hope you didn't waste too much of that drug, Zog.  We're running low on it."

"I did as you instructed, Paa." Zog beamed in satisfaction. 

06- ZOG

"I put equal measure, exactly the amount you said, into the tea and the wine, and the other kind, more potent potion onto the meaty morsels as well as veggie vittles.  That way we couldn't miss it."

"You’ve laced the veggie vittles too? How clever of you to think of that. “

“Paa, he sure was a sneaky one; he guessed at the wine…."

Aguda disregarded Yaggy and smiled at his favorite firstborn.  "Good boy, Zog.  Still, I wish there was someone else we could go to get it.  It's getting harder and harder to wrestle it from that old crow, who only knows how to raise his prices."

 He stone-faced, looked at the unconscious victim, the helpless Nevetsecnuac, ""A good specimen, in fact too fine a build for a scholar.  I wonder if he really is who he professes (claims) to be.  I rather liked him, too.  No matter, he'll end up in the same place as the rest."

"Yeah, in a dog's gut!"  Yaggy chuckled, rubbing his hands in gruesome relish of the scene to come.

07- YAGGY

"Have some respect, boy!" The innkeeper scolded.  This one's cruelty, his lack of human feelings and respect for human life had, in fact, become a serious concern for Aguda.  Cutting short yet another lecture, he ordered the two eldest boys to carry the unconscious victim Scholar (Nevetsecnuac) to the large, hardwood table in the kitchen.  As a practiced part of the process by now, the youngest, Kenny, was sent on ahead to warn the mother to clear away from the kitchen, sparing her from the grisly acts that was to follow.

Staying behind only long enough to scoop up Scholar’s (Nevetsecnuac's) precious belongings for himself, Aguda then followed his sons.

                                                                                           ~

(END OF SECTION 17)