LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 5

 Dwengzur, muttering an incomprehensible incantation, first drew a small circle of flame in the air, blew at it then, gestured grandly, “Behold!”

As Dwengzur sat on the chair and leaned his back to view the scene in comfort, the circle meanwhile had expanded then, got filled with images.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) now noted with disdain Zakhertan Yozdek’s Spartan sleeping quarters. Few minutes later, at the appointed hour Zakhertan’s personal guards took up their usual posts at outside, while Zakhertan pretending to retire, climbed into bed and drew up the curtains. But instead of going to asleep, he had slyly withdrawn to the secret antechamber off the bedroom proper, which he had often used. Meanwhile, the curtains around his bed being tightly drawn, gave the impression that he was there within and, fast asleep.

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (9) JP

Sovereign Zakhertan had been bidden by Dwengzur, to remain in his secret antechamber, for his safety’s sake, till all (the assassination attempt and the response), was over; alternatively, however, Zakhertan had planned to re-emerge once the fighting had started to observe and gain firsthand knowledge of the Immortals’ (otherwise well- guarded) abilities. This aspiration if fulfilled, would have made Zakhertan even more powerful.

Nevetsecnuac just then noted the Immortal Dwengzur peeping out from behind the ebony partition, having previously entered the room and hidden in a secret alcove behind the dark-hardwood-panel, his face the very picture of impatience. He’d waited there, nearly an hour, to set upon Zonar with a deadly force, the moment latter showed up. Dwengzur instantly ducked back in again as the rumbling groan forecasted the arrival of Zonar. The ceiling parted with a crackling noise and, riding a flotilla of clouds, Zonar majestically descended slowly into the center of the room. Instantly he became aware of Dwengzur's presence and turned to confront the threat. With lightning speed, Dwengzur had already launched his attack only to see the deadly onslaught parlayed with equal agility. Zonar struck back. Not once, but twice he delivered simultaneous assaults to the vulnerable points of his ardent foe. Dwengzur's clearly pronounced surprise was evident (marked) on his features; he had grossly underestimated Zonar's abilities. That mistake he strove to quickly rectify however, as Nevetsecnuac's eyes then beheld an incredibly electric fighting display. Meanwhile as if there were no walls there at all, Nevetsecnuac observed Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek springing up from his cot in the secret antechamber off the bedroom proper, unsheathing his sword and charging towards the door. Zakhertan next, tried turning the knob with his free left hand, to go outside.

Nevetsecnuac's face at once became suffused with anger as he noted the sword the usurper was brandishing in his right hand, the legendary sword of his great, great grandfather, Inghard Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir, the founder of Ingolf Dynasty.

Nevetsecnuac had first learned the existence of this sword from the historical archives (the ancient paintings provided the image) as he was growing up under the assiduous tutelage of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon. The annals (chronicles and monographs) had also alleged, the blade had been forged from the meteorite that had fallen to Earth on the very day of Inghard Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir's birth. The metal extracted from the meteorite rock was unyielding and unworkable; but after an extensive search, only an Indigenous blacksmith from a remote region of Anzui, proved capable of forging it into a magnificent sword. For decades since, this heirloom had proven indispensable on the battlefield for the warrior kings of Wenjenkun, as the blade kept its acerbic (sharp) edge regardless, slicing through rock, metal, and the strongest armor of most formidable foe. Moreover, the archives had stated that the sword possessed magical properties, and, in the benevolent hands of King Inghard and subsequent descendants, it had always radiated a pure blue, iridescence. With disdain Nevetsecnuac observed the bloody crimson glow that enveloped the sword’s blade now that it was in the grip of the villainous Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek.

02- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (1) JP

Finding the door jammed Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek meanwhile, with fury and great strength had struck, pounded, viciously kicked the door, and pulled at the doorhandle, as he same time bellowed commands and dire treats to both Dwengzur and his own indomitable guards. The sturdy construction of the doors, however, would not yield in the least. Once locked, they were made to withstand any onslaught; furthermore, at both ends Sovereign and the frantic guards’ efforts had all been-impeded by Dwengzur’s prior incantation, which kept both sets of doors sealed up tight, via (by means of) supernatural force.

All the while, in mid course, the uncanny, magnificent (outstanding) battle between Dwengzur and Zonar had raged. The impressive sight on occasion took Nevetsecnuac's breath away. Most of the time their forms were unrecognizable, just a huge, swirling blurs that assumed various shapes, colors, and sizes.

03- TREMENDOUS BATTLE BETW. IMMORTALS

Somersaulting, and then shooting up into the air, unobstructed by the non-existent ceiling, their swords clashed repeatedly in bursts of electric fire. Every so often they conjured up vile, hideous demons to engage in simultaneous combat overhead, their fiery blazes lighting up (illuminating) the sky all the way to the Heavens. The battle was so fantastic, so incredible; it boggled all senses and the mind.

Witnessing this, Nevetsecnuac's indomitable resolve and confidence gradually now waned, as he realized (grasped) the measure of his own mortal ability; moreover, he had now fully comprehended how Dwengzur and Zonar could only be, bested or killed, by their own kind and no other. His contest with Zonar therefore, aside from that lucky hap-stance (where the amulet was, lost), had been all along a hopeless escapade (feat).

“That is right! Now you know just what it is you are up against,” Dwengzur ejected smugly, eyeing Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Disregarding Dwengzur’s words and once more mental block in place, Nevetsecnuac further reflected how his hallucinogenic episode had been in fact a serious forewarning. Dwengzur being a more competent Immortal, what hope did Nevetsecnuac have, of besting him?

A slight feeling of consternation gripped Nevetsecnuac’s heart as he faced this new reality. Thankfully he had not tried engaging Dwngzur in a mortal combat; if he had done that, he could have sabotaged his chief aim! After all the training, the sacrifices the others had made on his behalf, all he had been through, and it would have all been (futile) in vain. At least he’d not made the gross underestimation of Dwengzur’s power! Nevetsecnuac was glad now, heeding his intuition earlier and, opting to fight Dwengzur solely through (by way of) psychological warfare.

Even though Nevetsecnuac knew beforehand the outcome of this now incessantly raging battle between the two Immortals, having witnessed its gruesome, violent ending (on his first day, arriving at the Capital), it only strengthened his earlier resolve and same time, rekindled his seething contempt for this formidable, invincible foe, Dwengzur. He would therefore do his utmost to avenge Zonar and to destroy Dwengzur. His mind unrelenting, Nevetsecnuac began formulating his next manoeuvre (plan). You must be like the water. He reminded self.  You must seem to yield when that is requisite, while adapting stealthy tactic to seize the advantage and obtain apex result.

Relaxing his mind’s block, Nevetsecnuac let this next thought now unobstructed, be revealed to Dwengzur, and then ended it with this sentence, how does it feel to be goaded, to have the shoe on the other foot?

“Hah?” Picking Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) deliberately antagonistic projection and than the goading, Dwengzur glared (in daggers) at Fradel Rurik Korvald. “What is that? You dastardly fiend, you played me?”

The Immortal was now quite incensed; then, Fadel’s subsequent projected thoughts aced his fury.

“None have dared be that presumptuous with me and lived to tell of it. Death will be a welcome relief when I am through with you, Fradel Rurik Korvald!”  Gritting his teeth, the immortal threw Fradel a contemptuous, venomous scowl, yet the controlled inner peace of the scholar did not waver, not in the least, in response to the threat in Dwengzur's eyes. Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) furthermore had continued outwardly with his prodding, the taunt clearly perceptible in his (vernacular) each idiom: "Such an impressive combat, yet the reason, which is the real reason, for Zonar's denunciation (censure), persecution  and demise, or rather his execution is, now please allow me a primitive being, to reiterate, to affirm that : Zonar Kuntzu’s condemnation had nothing at all to do with his interferences in the mortal realm, nor was it the posed threat to Zakhertan Yozdek; rather, it was necessary because your sacred laws had been breached. He dared to live and thrive at the outside world. As Zonar can never be forced into compliance, not by Elders of Karn or you, his defiance being the real threat, he was hence, slated (scheduled) for death. Imagine being threatened by one solitary Immortal, your race is doomed to fail, repeatedly.” Nevetsecnuac grimaced and shook his head, and then, continued with his taunting (goading). “Your race’s antiquated laws despite your prior claim of it being for the preservation of humankind is in truth is for, vigorously, at times belligerently, safeguarding and perpetuating Karn Race’s superiority over, not just us humans, but all other races.”

“Moreover, even though by your own admission, we humans are not worthy of any serious consideration, your kind is actually threatened by the inherent potential that you see in us."

After a purposeful pause, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac)’s unflinching, dogged pupils was again, pinned, on the Immortal's flaming eyes. Fradel grimaced coldly, as he now inwardly and deliberately provoked the other. “Yet, intriguing and true these notions be, perhaps you would care to hear my further caveats(forewarnings)?” 

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) in deliberate slowness projected these next set of thoughts, making sure Dwengzur had grasped fully every premise (concept, idea, opinion).

04- ZONAR FIGHTS DWENGZUR

Fradel’s eyes back on the fighting Zonar, he gasped, as if in admiration. “What a fine warrior he is. Better then anyone I believe that your kind could produce!” All the while letting Dwengzur read his thoughts, without hindrance, he then turned his hard gaze back on Dwngzur and deliberately, with needling (inciting) thought, further provoked him:   “It is my contention that you pursued and so grievously disposed of such an exceptional, immortal warrior, because his true abilities were yet to manifest (ascertained). Also, guided by his contaminated heart, he might have posed more serious future disruptions to your race; as well, sought apt vengeance (retribution) for the grievous murders of his natural father, foster parents and mortal siblings.”

Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) uncanny, finely-honed (keen) insight unnerved Dwengzur; he now stared, for a time, menacingly back at Fradel and then, enunciated (issued) aloud this threat:  "I have underestimated you, scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. I assure you, sir, I shall not repeat that mistake again." 

Not in the least bit intimidated, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) simply smiled.

 Dwengzur’s piercing, contemptuous eyes meeting the scholar’s unflinching gaze however, he again encountered the same obstruction, the same resistance to his probing. Undaunted, Dwengzur grimaced. “Go ahead,” he scoffed, detesting Fradel Rurik Korvald yet respecting him more, “erect all the barriers you can; in the end you will still lose. Your aim is too transparent.”  

A dismissive wave of the hand made the reeling scene on the wall, poof, disappear. He would not share any more information with this upstart scholar.

Feeling suddenly parched, Dwengzur reached for the wine decanter, consumed the contents of it in one, long, unhurried guzzle (swig, swallow) and, placing the empty flagon (flask) back onto the table, leaned back.

“I'm onto your tricks, petty human.”  He coldly scrutinized Fradel, while lending him only half an ear. “Two can play at this game.”  Dwengzur glowered.

Enjoying the predominant atmosphere of antipathy and this rare human’s uncommon courage and wit, “We’ll see just how long you can keep this up!”  Dwengzur, with his look of daggers, jeered at Fradel.

“But wait, I'm not through speculating.” Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) projected his subsequent, uncanny thoughts, which was at once picked up by Dwengzur. “I now venture to guess as to the real reason you, sir, have sought out my company and the motive behind this constrained inquisition… You wish to know if Zonar had imparted to me any sacrosanct Immortal's secrets.”  Nevetsecnuac boldly met Dwengzur's eye, catching the fleeting glint of acknowledgment in them.

"Why should I deny it?"  Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) shockingly direct revelation disturbed Dwengzur (took him back, made Dwengzur anxious) for a spell.

"But even if you utilize all your powers; still, you cannot extract it from me.” Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) bluffed, his eyes daringly meeting Dwengzur’s.

Most astonished by this display of raw courage, Dwengzur's indignation ebbed, and he grimaced slyly. "Your goading will not work this time?" Dwengzur interrupted Fradel subsequent words, with a gesture of his hand.

"Then again, your species are frequently deceitful; humans in general, are not known for their candor." Dwengzur shook his head. "In whatever status, misinterpretations of facts are an art form to you humans. Am I to believe that you are so different, a mutant perhaps?"  He looked directly, incredulously at Fradel, trying to gauge his response.

" No; after each encounter Zonar did not tarry long enough to pass on any such info, I’m certain of that.” Dwengzur after a deliberate pause, concluded. "Considering the gravity of this matter however, I must obtain solid confirmation for my self; and that can only be achieved, by penetrating your mind. The consequential damage, I assure you, will be minimal."  Then, as congenially as he could, he demanded that he, be allowed, to do just that.

Though a small consolation (solace, relief), it had been made perfectly clear to Nevetsecnuac by now, how without his permission Dwengzur could not probe into the deep recesses of his subconscious. Nevetsecnuac, with his definite misgivings about the Immortal, simply shook his head as his answer in the negative.

Dwengzur predictably viewed this refusal, as clear indication of the Scholar’s guilt; impatient with this standoff, he drummed his fingers on the table and pensively looked away:  So far, guile and coaxing had produced no satisfactory results. However, intriguing this obstinate human was, he still had wasted his precious time, particularly since he had hoped to have been well on his way by now.

He turned his harsh gaze back on Fradel and narrowing his eyes, ejected acerbically: "If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just relent."

Nevetsecnuac defiantly met other’s piercing eyes and shook his head, "You cannot intimidate me. I will relent all right; when Hell freezes over!”

"That can easily be arranged." Dwengzur's bark shook the entire hall to its foundations before he turned his head away to check his rising temper.

 It certainly would not do to reduce all of this to ashes. The Immortal exhaled deeply, oh, I had hoped to avoid this but, constrained for time as I am, I am hoping my master will go easy on me for this necessary infringement (via force to involuntarily extracting it out of him). Dwengzur’s ambivalence, this circumspect (guarded, prudent) leniency, of course had stemmed from, his innate terror of his master and the all too frequent repercussions (penalties) that he had endured, for his regular acts of disobedience; and so, for few more seconds he just fixed his blank stare on the tapestry hanging on the far wall. Then again there was that other option; he shrugged, and for that, scholar’s willpower needed, to be broken! Dwengzur's face, for a spell, shone with dark malice and he lowered his thoughtful gaze on the floor.

No, not just yet; he will use it as the last resort. As it where, he had already gone too far and for that, his punishment will not be light… Abruptly stopping his subsequent conjectures (speculations), he shook his head to dispel, to purge the succeeding (resultant) rush of unpleasant images and thoughts from his mind.

(END OF SECTION 5)

 

                                                                                            ~ 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 32

 

 At some distance from Hecun’s contingent, Mouro and his two guards, traveling ahead on the major highway, by nightfall had already checked in to a long-established inn and were, indulging themselves in a fine feast and a good measure of the local wine. All during dinner Mouro had been staring at the young waiter, one of the groups that were tending their table.  His exceptional good looks, fine features and delicate mannerisms drew Mouro out to the point of infatuation; discretely at first, but after a flagon or two of wine, Mouro had flirted more openly (uninhibitedly) with the young man.

01= MOURO KERR

One of the guards, called Dag Diez, found this rather amusing, joined in the fun but the other, called Kade Luir, having some scruples, found the show most distasteful. Soon as he could, Kade Luir therefore asked to be excused and retired early to his room. After divesting himself from his travel garments, Kade Luir had just slipped under the covers when the other guard Dag Diez staggered in, curses and complaints on his breath.

Ranting and raving incoherently, Dag finally settled down, "That Mouro!  Just because he's in charge, where does he get off!  The gall he has, ordering me around in that manner!  I'll show him!"

 Dag Diez slammed his fist into the door, his face dark with anger.  "He's too much!  I'm not even tired."  He was striding to and for across the room now, rubbing his burning fist.  "Am I less deserving than he?  There's nothing amiable about his...eh?"  Dag sheepishly threw a glance at his companion, who had indifferently shifted and turned his back to him.

"Besides, why should I retire when I haven't even had my fill yet?  All because he wants to indulge himself in perverse pleasure.  Was I crowding him, or something?"  Huffing, he plumped himself into the chair.

After a moment's silence, his mood had changed, "Yeah, he always did like them that way best.  He toys with people’s lives; he likes to play games and moreover, always have be the alfa dog, the domineering one…"

Kade Luir, feigning to sleep with his face to the wall, ground his teeth in anger, or was it jealousy?  He was so incensed with Mouro, and this intoxicated fool that he had to struggle to contain his bursting rage.

"Did you see how annoyed the innkeeper was?  What a sight to see!  That old sourpuss squirmed like a pig back there."  Dag Diez slapped his knee drunkenly and roared.

"But he wouldn't dare openly say a word against it.  He didn’t have the guts!  Even if Mouro hadn't flaunted all that money around, the greedy wimp knows enough to keep his trap shut and his tail tucked between his legs.  He knows enough not to stick his bulbous nose into trouble.  How else would he have lasted so long and prospered so? Boy you are a sound sleeper.”

“Yes sirree… Not by being stupid, that's for sure!  Yes, he knows enough to keep out of trouble."  Dag Diez rose and went over to the other bed, shaking Kade Luir, who was feigning sleep.  "Hey, this is no time to be sleeping, I'm talking to you.  Open your eyes!  Are you making a mockery of me?"

Finally giving in, and checking his anger, Kade Luir pretended to being awakened. Then shaking his head and yawning, he exclaimed that he was still (groggy) tired and demanded that Dag be brief with whatever it is he had to say.

"Bah!  Who needs you?  Go back to your precious sleep if you like." the obnoxious Dag retorted in a gruff voice and waddled back to his chair.

02- DAG DIEZ

Before long he was singing the same tune to himself.  "That's right; he knows enough to keep in line.  He knows that ones Like Mouro, rich wastrels that they are, are too dangerous to be trifled with and deadly to offend.  I'm not sure, but Magistrate what's his name is, he might even be a distant relative."

Kade, now exasperated, sat up and resorted to fine reasoning to persuade the other to get some sleep.

"Sleep… Sleep?  Why should I?" rowdy Dag snarled as he ignored the drooling down his mouth.

"Eh, your kind will never understand."  Dag idly fingered the copper water pitcher.

"Imagine him having all the fun and not me!  I… stranded here with the likes of you!"  In a burst of anger, he hurled the pitcher violently against the wall above Kade's head.  Luckily there was very little water to spill.

Wiping the spray from his face, Kade Luir clenched his fists, not obliging Dag with a fight.  Quietly reclining again, he turned his face to the wall and remained that way, unresponsive to the vile, disgusting slanders, muttering and provocation of Dag.

"Oh, what's the use?"  His anger spent, his energy consumed by his temper, Dag Diez had finally consented to sleep.  "I might as well get some rest.  Of course you wouldn't take me on!  You know you'd lose.  You just look competent, but you're soft!"

As he pulled up his covers, fully clothed still, he muttered to himself, "And tomorrow, tomorrow, we'll see.  Eh, let him enjoy it while he can…ha, ha, ha!"

Dag’s sinister laughter grated on Kade's nerves.  “Won't he ever shut up?”  But the obnoxious filth kept pouring from Dag’s mouth well into the night until; finally, after several loud belches and yawns, he drifted into a deep, snoring slumber.

Unable to get any sleep Kade Luir tossed and turned then, sitting bolt upright, fixed his brooding gaze on the door, contemplating going after Mouro.

 But what would be the point?  What could he do anyhow?

"He's always preening (grooming) himself like a prize goose," the drunkard Dag stirred in his sleep, "but we'll see.  We'll see how much longer he'll enjoy this privilege."   He snorted a couple more times then rolled onto his other side and began snoring even more thunderously than before.

                                                                             ~

Mouro, meanwhile, after changing his clothes, had patiently waited until all the activity had abated outside his room then, bolting to his feet and with the sealed drum of fine wine tucked under his arm, he headed for the door.

"Don't wait for me, now."  He half turned to address the young waiter, Ted. “I’ll be a while; best you try to get some sleep." Stealing across the deserted dining hall in the dark, he quietly slipped outside and entered the stables.

Leading his horse by the reins, he walked the beast some measure away to the edge of the forest.  At this safe distance, he then vaulted into the saddle and galloped through into woods, disappearing in the paths among the thick foliage.

 He continued to press his fine mare for speed over hedges and ditches as man and mount covered an incredible distance in but a short time.  Finally, he arrived at his destination, the deserted ruins of a temple, hidden among the towering cliffs and ancient cypresses.  Dismounting, he led the mare cautiously across a dilapidated stone bridge spanning a bottomless chasm.

The sentries on duty at the other side were relieved to see that they had accosted Mouro.

03- GUARDS ON DUTY

Hecun, after the formal greeting, asked, "I am indeed pleased to see you, sir, but I feel constrained to inquire what purpose brings you here at this hour.  Were we not supposed to meet at the Magistrate's offices?  And where are your guards Kade Luir and Dag Diez?  I hope nothing untoward has happened to them."

"The guards… Oh no, dear old friend, they are sound asleep and dreaming of the girls or man back at the inn, no doubt."  Mouro's informal greeting put the Head Bailiff at ease.

"I know you're a stickler for protocol, but out here?" he clapped Hecun on the shoulder as they walked to a more private corner of the compound.

 "Let us dispense with the formalities of office.  I'd rather address you as in the past, eh, Elder Brother, if it’s all right."

He waited for Hecun's nod of assent before resuming, "As for my reason for (stealthily, covertly) coming here, I've taken these great pains in hopes of delivering you from an anticipated dread predicament.  Why else?  Tell me, are your water rations not depleted?  That's what I thought; I would have been greatly surprised if they hadn't.  Let's see your map."

Mouro sketched a line of route on the parchment Hecun provided.  "Now, if you start tomorrow along this shortcut I've indicated and, upon reaching the fork, keep to the left for about a day and a half, you should without much difficulty reach the modest inn I'm thinking of.  There one can have their fill of drink and gorge on generous portions of deliciously prepared meals at a fraction of the normal cost which will, no doubt, also please the men.  The proprietor is a bit eccentric, however.  Advise the men not to stare or make any rude remarks about the ugly scar on his face.  No one knows to this day, I suspect, who inflicted it on him many years ago but, if you keep on his good side, he'll lavish you with hospitality, the like of which you have never before experienced.

"But tell me, Elder Brother," Mouro looked at the encampment about him, "surely you had more men than this when you embarked on this journey."

"Two hundred to be exact," Hecun nodded.  "Along the way we suffered several setbacks.  Some were killed and others tried to desert and were appropriately punished but it would take too long for me to go into that right now."  He hoped that Mouro would press him for the details.

"Quite right, we can discuss at length all that later.  We have more immediate concerns we need to address now." came Mouro's disappointing response.

"I'll say this, however," Hecun could not hold back, "along the way we even had a run-in with Zonar but, oddly enough, he opted not to engage us or attempt to free the prisoner."

Robbing the other (Hecun) once more, of a chance to boast, Mouro interrupted. "May I make a suggestion, then?  Since there is no real danger to speak of in this province, and since that cowardly assassin was obviously issuing only empty threats, why should you continue on these remote paths?  Why put yourself and your men through unnecessary hardships?  After a brief stay at the inn, I told you about you can keep to the highway and, in less than three days’ time, you can arrive with ease at Magistrate Rue's offices.  I'll be riding on ahead to inform His Honor of your arrival.  I really should be there now, if it weren't for this detour.”

“Hmm…  Micen Do will be furious about the delay and, no doubt, demand my head on a platter upon our return.  Don't worry, though.  He doesn't scare me one bit and, besides, I know how to deal with him.  As I see it, this was unavoidable.  I had to make amends when, a few days back, it suddenly dawned on me that I had neglected to mention the location of the only well at this temple which still contained water.  Yes, brother, there is another one located here other than the two obvious dry ones you have already discovered.  I stumbled across it quite by accident some years back when I was caught in a similar predicament.  Feeling responsible as I did, I took appropriate measures and raced here over some treacherous terrain in the hope of meeting up with you tonight."

"I'm indebted to you for your concern and trouble." Hecun thanked Mouro gratefully.  "Now, brother, if you'd be so kind as to direct me there."

04-KADE LUIR

"Wait, there will be time for it soon enough." Mouro held up a hand, smiling.  "First, I've brought a surprise with me.  I know how fond you are of good wine and had anticipated that you'd be craving a good cup just about now.  If, by some misfortune, I had not met up with you tonight I had planned to leave it hidden here along with the instructions on the whereabouts of the well.  Please allow me to have the drum fetched for you now."  Mouro called for the guard.

Mouths watered and neck craned to observe the unloading of the special drum from Mouro’s horse and its transport over to Mouro.  The guards looked on with hungry, yearning eyes as they waited with trepidation for their turn to partake of the sure to be a rare wine.  They hoped there would be plenty to go round once Hecun and Mouro had had their fill.

Mouro, after a sly grin, called for a cup as he, at the same time, unsealed the mouth of the small barrel.  Filling it to the brim, he ceremoniously presented it to Hecun who received it with appropriate thanks then, politely smiling, put the cup down and called for another cup to be brought.

Filling this one to the brim, Hecun reciprocated the courtesy to Mouro and proposed, "Let us drink together one more time for old times' sake, before we are joined by the others."

"You are too polite.  All right, brother, we'll drink to your good health and to a long, prosperous life."  Mouro grimaced as he obligingly received the cup.  Subsequently, as custom decreed, each deferred the honors of first toast to the other.

After a few turns, Hecun unable to resist any longer, congenially toasted, "To our lasting friendship," before he raised the cup to his lips and was about to gulp it down all in one go when, Mouro, suddenly assuming a stern visage, in a flash discarded his own cup to the side and violently knocked Hecun's cup from his hands, spilling entire contents of the wine all over the bailiff's face and garments.

 "What disgraceful conduct?  How dare you insult me in this manner?" Mouro stormed.

 "You may be my elder, but I'm still your superior and don't you forget it!"  He shook a threatening finger in Hecun's face.

"And you stay out of this!" Mouro turned to lash out at the sergeant Tubak who, (standing by at close proximity,) aimed to intercede on behalf of his commander.

 Mouro once more reverted his menacing gaze back to the Head bailiff and, with curses on his lips, he demanded, "How dare you be so presumptuous?  How dare you behave in this outrageous manner, just because I'm kind enough to treat you with courtesy?"

Aghast (shocked, appalled), Hecun's face flushed and, even though he did not know what he’d done to offend Mouro, finding his tongue, rushed to apologize, but there was no placating (mollifying) Mouro. 

Placed on the defensive, inwardly Hecun remained most resentful of Mouro's inconsistencies, “What kind of game are you playing at?  How dare you set me up, make me breach etiquette, then make me lose face in front of my men like this?”  

Head Bailiff Hecun just wanted to squash this upstart, ungrateful vermin like a bug, but knew only too well of Mouro's hot temper and obstinate nature; therefore, he wisely opted to suffer passively and with total restraint, this heaved, unending abuse, hoping that Mouro's anger would summarily be spent (pass).

Far from being appeased, Mouro was, in fact, further antagonized. He bellowed furiously, "Why in blazes did I take all this trouble…For the likes of you?  You're beneath my contempt!"  Scoffing, he sprung to his feet and stormed away into the darkness.

Alarmed, Hecun raced after Mouro, still apologizing. Eventually he caught up with him beyond the courtyard and, in a hot pursuit, dashed after him behind a half-collapsed tower. The moment he’d entered the full darkness, however, a hand extended from under the dilapidated flight of stairs and forcefully yanked (pulled) Hecun into the ink black crevice, where he was brought face to face with Mouro.

Hecun's fear soon abated when, in a passive voice, Mouro explained, "You can stop worrying now, brother.  I'm not at all offended.  It was a charade, enacted for their benefit."

"Whose benefit,” Dumbfounded Hecun strained to see more clearly.  "What madness is this?"

Moving out of the shadows, his hand still clasping Hecun's shoulder, Mouro smiled wryly.  "Rest assured, my faculties are intact…  I couldn't go through with it, anyhow.  Still, I had to stop you from drinking it, while casting suspicion, that the drink was spiked."

"The wine was spiked.  What are you talking about?" Hecun asked in exasperation.  "We have no enmity between us, why should you try to poison me?"

"You're not listening," Mouro snapped.  "The wine is perfectly fine; they only think it's laced with poison, and I had to play along with the pretense."

Now it was Hecun's turn to be temperamental, "Your inference to 'they"…  Just who are 'they'?  Why do you talk in riddles, or is this just another one of your underhanded ploys to make me look like the fool?  Are you purposefully trying to muddle me?"

"There are turncoats, you fool!  Renegades planted among your men."

"Are you sure?  How do you know this?  Who are they?  How many are there?  Tell me and I'll have their black hearts torn from their chest."  Hecun clenched his fist repetitively.

"I don't know who they are."  Mouro shrugged and walked away.  "I came to know of their existence myself only quite recently, but I didn't have the means to find out their numbers, but I surmise it must be over thirty.  In any case, it’s up to you to flush (hunt) them out."  Reading confusion and disbelief on Hecun's face, he continued, "You still need convincing, don't you?  Why must you always be so obstinate?  I should be furious with you for not trusting me but, oh, all right, I'll start at the beginning and clarify this situation for you, even though I'm pressed for time.”

"Listen, my coming here tonight was not accidental, nor was my failure to tell you about the functioning well. The purpose was obviously other than the one I expressed in front of the men."  He cleared his throat.  "Actually, I was instructed by Micen.  Yes, Micen Do.  Now, don't interrupt.  I was instructed by him to deliver some poisoned wine to you as part of a diabolical plot to bring about the demise of yourself and your men, saving the spies who were obviously warned not to drink the wine."

"But why would Micen want to kill me?" Hecun injected in surprise.  "I was never out of line with him.  I served him loyally for all those years and did nothing to incur his enmity.  What could he gain from my death?"

"You were only the instrument, the insignificant pawn, please forgive my saying so, who had to be sacrificed in the scheme of things.  It had nothing to do with you personally, or with your performance of your duty. “Mouro explained dismally.  "You think you mattered anything to him at all?  Your only fault was that you let yourself become expendable.  Added to that, your mission was doomed from the start, even if you had survived the ambush and other conceivable dangers on the road as you have done.  Yes, I'm well aware of the traps you've avoided all along the way in order to reach this point.  Never mind how I know."  He held up his hand to stay any questions from Hecun.  "Even the desertions you experienced earlier, I suspect, were the workings of the implanted spies, working within to assure your perilous end.

"It would have been their objective to reduce the numbers of those to be doomed way before now and, no doubt, you played right into their hands.  You would have done better, my friend, to have, just this once, acted contrary to your nature, to have made concessions and exceptions to the rules.  Your flaw, besides being too predictable, is that you're a stickler for rules and regulations.  Don't you see how much of an easy target that makes you, how much more vulnerable?  Never mind, it’s pointless to harp on that now."

"How deep is this conspiracy, anyway?" Hecun grumbled, gritting his teeth.

Mouro, agitated, turned away.  "Listen well and you'll learn the extent of it."

                                                                                ~

(END OF SECTION 32)