11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 17

After so many hours of tending the Dark Eunuch’s extensive wounds (lesions), Royal surgeon Mosek stepped back and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Egil Viggoaries was then offered two or three excellent pain-numbing concoctions but despite the throbbing pain in his arm, he refused to ingest any potion and perfunctorily dismissed the Surgeon.

 

01- ROYAL SURGEON MOSEK

The Dark Eunuch thence left alone in the room, he stayed seated there for a while longer evaluating (assessing) his two provocative future machinations; finally, his thoughts reverting to Stuart Chutek, his mind pithily deliberated on the astute (shrewd) course of assertion (command, charge, contention):

His men had already been positioned in the very Inn Chutek was staying, awaiting his orders to apprehend him; before the Stewart Chutek crossed to the Chukset Province, to seek out Tonzeye Yevgun.  In a short while, when the moment was apt, Chutek would be lawfully indicted and convicted for the impending (imminent) murder of Worren Youkup based on that sheer evidence alone. Furthermore, with the established motive, Chutek could easily be portrayed as an ambitious servant who had deliberately and unconscionably seduced and coerced his senile, old master into declaring him as the sole beneficiary; then, before Worren had a change of heart, Chutek cold-heartedly had arranged to have him (the Royal Tutor) killed during Chutek’s absence from Channing, on a supposed errand no less.  Portrayed (depicted) as an insidious, scheming, malicious servant, Chutek could then be subjected the extreme penalty of the law; albeit he survived the preliminary inquisition, he could still be made to suffer the brutal indignities, before his slowest, most tortuous end.

But where was the challenge in that? Egil Viggoaries scoffed and shifted in his seat. Even without all that, any amount of incriminating evidence could easily have been amassed, since the old Tutor had shown such extreme favoritism to the strikingly handsome Chutek, incurring jealous animosities from all the other servants, one in particular…The one named, Lorenzo.

Egil Viggoaries turned his thoughts instead, to Enqui Rimeng's flask which presented far more intriguing possibilities. This flagon (evidential instrument of death) could be utilized to net the bigger prize, in addition to the accursed Herleif! But then, why would he cook the golden goose, or would it be more prudent to call her a pheasant; besides which, she may soon be infinitely more valuable as the Dowager Mother of the future Sovereign.

Egil Viggoaries sporting a wry grin, rose from his chair and walked to the window; as he absently stared out, suddenly, unexpectedly, he was reminded of Samnuk.

Dark Eunuch Egil, grimaced thinking of the time he had tricked the mixed gender rock sprit entity Samnuk, who had just escaped being imprisoned in that protective water crystal amulet which Dwengzur had always worn around his neck. Samnuk had impersonated his master Dwengzur, but Egil quickly wizened to this deception, had instead duped Samnuk into revealing one of his secrets. This was an especially useful tool (device, information), indeed, gaining the ability to shapeshift and assume any form or person; unfortunately, his (Egil) being a mere mortal, if he utilized this spell, there would be a grave consequence to him. Egil had been seriously warned about this, by non other than Dwengzur, before his eventual disappearance with then captive, mischief-maker, Samnuk.

02 SAMNUK 1B

“Oh well,” Egil Viggoaries shrugged; knowing there would be an apt future time, when the advantages would far outweigh the vile disadvantage, for its use.

Dark Eunuch’s thoughts once more reverting to Sejon and then to Magnian, he now indulged his mind in that future fantasy, where which Zakhertan Yozdek and Sejon would be long dead and, he would be the Regent Guardian to Magnian. A necessary short step to being the omnipotent emperor. Emperor Egil… Egil the Merciless! He did like the sound of that! The Dark Eunuch threw his head back and gave a hearty guffaw. A brief time later, sinister grin gone, Egil abruptly turned about face and went out the room; dismissing the respectful bows of his guards at the door, he walked briskly down the hall. Of course, his personal security had at once sheathed their swords and fell into step behind him. The Dark Eunuch walked quickly with long strides to keep his appointment, albeit a little late, with the Senior Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund. Egil knew that the meeting was of a serious official matter, though it had rapidly been dwarfed in importance by these more recent developments.  

“When I see him,” Egil Viggoaries mused with wry smile on his lips, “I must at least make a point of thanking Qarzten Caimund for his recommendation of me to this case. The man has unwittingly done me a great service!” He threw his head back and laughed once more as he continued to advance without so much as breaking stride.

   

                                                                        ~   

   

That evening, when Egil Viggoaries received the expected word that Royal Tutor Worren Youkup was at death’s door after having suffered a damaging heart-attack, he quickly set aside all other business to pay the customary courtesy call on Worren, hoping to catch him still among the living and to whisper to him his spiteful news. As it were, the Dark Eunuch’s ingrained rancour (grudge) for the sanctimonious Worren Youkup and the Prince Herleif had been everlasting because, Egil Viggoaries’s childhood years had been glumly marred as the study companion of Prince Herleif. Young Egil had undergone nefarious castigations and ignoble humiliations whenever the unruly, wily Herleif had broken the rules. At each instance, Worren Youkup (heartlessly) indifferently turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to the truth had compulsorily mated out harshest penalties on the unpopular Egil Viggoaries. Eventually young Egil had learned to fight back and once fended for himself in such a way as to make Worren’s and Prince Herleif's life, for a time being at least, an absolute Hell. Zakhertan Yozdek at the time was still waging his border wars and was frequently absent from Channing for extended periods; Herleif’s vindictiveness going unchecked hence, it was not long before Viggoaries was maligned and permanently replaced as the study companion, with a more malleable stooge. The ostracized Egil’s life from then on, had taken on a new, nightmarish turn.  

                                                                      … 

At present entering the private compound of the palace staff, Egil Viggoaries continued to make his way, in the same bold strides, towards the tutor's sleeping quarters. Coming to within an earshot of the old man's deathbed, he heard the attending physicians pontificating over Worren’s ailment and them arriving at the unanimous decision that he was at present beyond saving.

"We've done all that is humanly possible to stem the course of damage but alas, his sight and speech faculties (ability) are slightly (to some extent) impaired.” Kundo Rotek said with a tired, mournful resignation. Everyone knew he was in fact quite fond of the Royal Tutor.

“At least you’d in time mercifully administered the dose to ease his terrible pain, but I dare say, bit more excessively." His colleague (assistant) pensively griped.  

 "There is nothing further to be done." Three of the senior Royal Physicians, farcically, exasperatedly shaking their heads unanimously at this point sounded their firm estimation.   

"May Gods be merciful!" A young Royal Physician just then acerbically added, eyeing Egil Viggoaries’s entrance into the room.   

"And may his passing into the spirit world, be without fret." Another one called Polnar, hastily rushed in to say, same time gave his co-worker an apprehensively admonishing look that seemed to say: “Xamis Urmond you fool, you will pay dearly for this later! You have enjoyed the favor of His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek and basked in the rarely bestowed honors and privileges your youthful brilliance has earned you up till now, but nothing lasts forever, and no one is indispensable!” Polnar had rushed forward meanwhile, along with the others, to respectfully greet Egil Viggoaries.   

Polnar’s subsequent profuse apologies and amiable words, on behalf of his headstrong friend Xamis, had unfortunately was ignored (fell on deft ears), for Egil Viggoaries had already made up his mind to take care of this impertinent and upstart Royal Physician, permanently (for good).

03- EGIL VIGGORIES 1- JP

Outwardly, however, Egil seemed to be appeased; showing a particular concern for the Royal Tutor's increasingly deteriorating condition, he suggested (ordered) he be allowed a few solitary moments with his old teacher to convey his farewells.  

The Chief Royal Physician, Kundo Rotek, readily assenting, cleared the room at once of all persons; then he too, quickly exited the room. Then again, all were extremely glad of the opportunity to spread as much distance as possible between them and the Black Eunuch, for none wished to inadvertently offend him and risk his baneful (cursed) wrath.   

Egil Viggoaries nodded in satisfaction as he approached the old Tutor as, without interference, he was now able to assess for himself the specific symptoms of the poison. Though all had read his occasional dissertations about the progress of human diseases and thus would never question his motives, no one was truly aware of the full extent of Egil’s vast knowledge of medicine and toxicology, gathered over the course of many years of experiment and study.  Not only had Egil Viggoaries poured over and devoured the Royal Library's vast storehouse of medical texts (one of the subjects along with alchemy, astronomy, botany and military strategy that had been spared from the incineration) but he had for the past several years also conducted experiments on his own into the causes, cures and progress of a countless number of diseases that plagued mankind with terminal suffering.  As Minister of Internal Security, he was able to procure an unending supply of subjects from among the ranks of the condemned prisoners with which he strove to resolve the dilemmas posed by those elusive maladies that had eluded even the wisest of contemporary medical minds. Not that Egil Viggoaries was striving to find cures for these illnesses; rather, his fascination lay in inducing sickness into previously healthy individuals and then painstakingly recording in meticulous detail the variations of the disease's progress until the final deterioration of their condition.   

The suffering, the torment inflicted on these ill-fated victims gave him that perverse pleasure and bizarre sense of temporary satiation from his bottomless, sadistic curiosity. Egil Viggoaries’s compiled works meanwhile had proven to be a controversial yet invaluable contribution to the medical field, though the methods by which the information had been gathered drew to date, twenty or thirty muted criticisms from certain Court Officials as well as, secret censure by two of his medical peers. Regardless of these personal qualms, they nevertheless jostled each other in their rush to obtain, at great expense, his latest findings when they were, infrequently printed up for publication. For every now and then Egil Viggoaries would succumb to the human failing (an urge) to boast, to gain recognition for his unconscionable yet brilliant methods and theories. These published findings however had only ceded the surface layers of his knowledge of the tools of death. He had also, for self-preservation, secretly experimented, and duly become an expert in identifying the culprit poisons, in specifically, five unresolved murder cases.     

Looking at the old Royal Tutor, Egil Viggoaries presently noted with a bemused smile the obvious signs and the side-effects of the drug Worren Youkup had unwittingly ingested, which had escaped the learned eyes of those brilliant Royal Physicians. Haughty, Idiotic incompetents, the lot of them! Even that arrogant upstart had not caught on. Later, Egil Viggoaries was to learn that Xamis Urmond had indeed raised the possibility during his examination but had been roundly overridden by his more discreet peers. His apologist had even ventured as far as to advise Xamis, "Let the sleeping dogs lie."    

Dispassionately Egil Viggoaries studied the side effects of the potion that had, in its wake, left the Royal Tutor gradually (increasingly) more bereft of sight and speech.  That old boorish tyrant that had plagued his childhood, now nearing his end, was as vulnerable as a newborn babe, squirming in his silent pain. Yet there remained something in those sightless eyes, an urgent need in that contorted face to communicate something vital. Taking advantage of this chance, Egil Viggoaries ordered one of the waiting attendants at outside, to bring him a parchment and ink-laden brush. The attendant as he was leaving the room witnessed only of Egil Viggoaries placing the brush in the dying Royal Tutor's right hand and urging him to write.

No one bore witness to the Eunuch’s subsequent act of, leaning close to Worren’s ear and imparting to him in a whisper, while grinning with sheer malice, his exquisite plans for the darling Stewart Chutek. 

04- STEWART CHUTEK'S IMPENDING FATE

A brief time later Egil Viggoaries had emerged at outside declaring the result to be indecipherable scribbling that warranted thorough analysis later. The Eunuch’s back to them, Chief Royal Physician Kundo Rotek and the other Royal Physicians had all at once, frenziedly rushed (scrambled) back into the room, in time only to observe, Worren Youkup arch his back in pain and breath his last.

 

                                                                        ….   

 

 

(END OF SECTION 17)

 

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 16

 Fortunately for Surgeon Mosek, Egil Viggoaries had once more turned his thoughts back to the barbarian giant and the marvelous combat: In an uncontested, swift maneuver Viggoaries had not only freed himself from this Barbarian giant's clutches but had also struck down his opponent instantaneously as soon as the other’s subsequent, murderous assault had been launched. Admittedly the giant had been quite skilled and dexterous for one his size. Amazingly, he had been quite adroit in his defenses and counter strikes, fending against the lightening speed deadly blows aimed at his head, legs, and chest even as he fumbled for his weapon, which had, at one point, taken flight and wedged between ice covered rocks, at the distance of a hundred feet away. Egil grimaced, thinking of his ensued, signature kick to the man's spine, launched after a mid-air somersault, which had dropped the giant at Viggoaries’s feet, his legs still kicking impotently.

Egil could have decapitated him that instant, but instead, he had taken his time, delighting in the giant's paralysis, and his impotent (powerless), anguished pain (though still defiant with his daggers ‘glare); choosing instead to finish him off,  in that grindingly slow, tormented way before he applied just a bit of pressure, just so. 

01- EGIL VIGGORIES

Subsequently, Egil Viggoaries leaned back, his mind oblivious to the pain in his arm which was now spreading to his chest and neck; looking away to a distant void with his mind already devising (conceiving) apt steps to destroy his intended target, the corners of his mouth just then lifted slightly as his lips sported a (pitiless) malicious, cynical smile.

At that moment a sharp knock at the door abruptly interrupted his pleasure (hideous reverie) and thus he scowled. His deputy, Caunze, was eventually granted admission and, after a deep bow, came to stand before Viggoaries and to inform him of agent Rukon's urgent request for an audience.

 "Let him in.", Viggoaries gestured, condescendingly.

 

                                                                                     ~

Once admitted, the newly recruited agent stopped in the center of the room, reverently bowed low then stood at attention for permission to speak. Just inside the door, the Deputy Caunze waited at ease, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Well, what is it?"  Viggoaries's obvious impatience made Rukon flinch reflexively.

In fact, it was the sudden searing, bolt of pain radiating from his arm that had put the Dark Eunuch in a foul mood; this however he would never admit to himself, for he despised weakness and all forms of human frailty.

Egil Viggoaries had constantly (in his adult life) striven to be indifferent to physical and mental pain, and likewise demeaning human deficiencies (limitations), ever since that humiliating lesson he had learned at the hand of Zakhertan Yozdek when he was but eight years old. That mortifying experience had permanently marred and altered his character. Additionally, there were those four incidences, before puberty, that Egil had buried in the deep recesses of his conscious mind where they could never be surfaced (recalled) for to do so would instantly rob the Dark Eunuch of the last shred of his dignity and any remaining self-respect.

Egil Viggoaries grimaced, being abruptly reminded of the other, the supposed him, languishing since infancy in fact, like a subhuman criminal, in the darkest recesses of the dungeons. Zakhertan Yozdek had gifted him to Egil as an outlet, when he had turned into his teens, to torment as much as he had liked, with only one condition, that the prisoner lived. If you could call it that; the wretch lived, lived to endure yet another day’s torment.

The agent Rukon, meanwhile, had opened his mouth, steeling himself before he spoke. Still, he hesitated, his eyes darting to Surgeon Mosek who, with rapt attention was bent on sewing up the remainder of the wound after the tendon was re-attached and the veins cauterized. Would it be prudent to expose these findings in front of this physician? Granted Mosek's reliability was beyond question. Still, this could be a test.

There was a peal of eerie, mocking laughter as Egil Viggoaries subsequently shot Mosek a cold, stern look that effectively dismissed the physician. The closing of the wound would have to wait, irrespective of future complications. Egil Viggoaries’s eyes tracked Mosek as latter promptly and without least protest exited the room; afterwards, Egil’s stone (unreadable) gaze fell on Caunze for a moment or two, before reverting onto Rukon.

02-AGENT RUKON

The agent’s face paled, so cold was the Dark Eunuch’s scrutiny that it sent shivers down his spine; thus, Rukon bit out the words without so much as a pause, injudiciously reporting all, even the inconsequential stuff (matter) of his findings:  This well included the redundant details of Nigel's visit to the kitchens (under the pretext of ordering a specially prepared repast for Lady Sejon) and, after identifying that night’s allotted dishes for Royal Tutor Worren Youkup, she had then discretely emptied the entire contents of the pilfered (pinched, stolen) flask into one particularly sweet saucer.

"Have you retrieved the flask she discarded?" Egil Viggoaries now brusquely cut short (terminated) Rukon’s ramblings.

"Yes sir; it took some doing but I’ve…” Noting the fierce disapproval in Egil Viggoaries’s eyes, Ruken abruptly fell silent, and his flesh started to crawl.

“What breech of conduct can I be guilty of now?”  He knew better than to ponder that question too long and, he at once removed the flask, which by then had lost the label, from his tunic and rushed forward to hand it to Egil Viggoaries, mumbling also copious apologies as he backed away.

Egil Viggoaries removed the tightened lid and wafted the air above the opening toward his face. He made no effort to conceal his venomous grimace or the certain sober calculation in his eyes. Her previous indiscretions, the conspiracy to murder and its associated misconducts were not sufficiently grave to suit his purpose; but now, he would add premeditated murder to the list of her crimes, and then, when the time was ripe, he would reap the bountiful harvest.

 "That will be all." the words spoken to Rukon were sharp and abrasive, but Viggoaries’s icy eyes went past the agent to rest on Caunze.

The Deputy nodded, his face placid, almost inscrutable in its masklike quality; no one could have anticipated the smoldering rage deep inside the man as he bowed stoically and exited the chamber promptly, with Rukon at his heels.

Surgeon Mosek had all this time stood patiently at the outside corridor (hallway), awaiting word (a command from the Dark Eunuch) to rush back in and to finish his laborious task. He gazed after the retreating pair with blank stare. Halfway down the hall, at a safe distance, Caunze abruptly halted and pivoted.

Thrusting his hostile face right up against Rukon's, his fiery eyes burrowing into Rukon’s, he then sneered incredulously, "Just what did you think you were doing back in there? And wipe away that stupefied look from your face!"  Caunze grabbed Rukon’s shoulder roughly and yanked him aside then shoved him further in the quiet niche to escape the curious eyes and ears of the guards.

Leering menacingly, Caunze again pitted his face right up against the other and curtly enumerated every instance of inappropriate and plainly erroneous conduct, all the violations that Rukon had been guilty of, back in the room. As Rukon listened, his heart (palpitated) hammered violently against his breastbone (in his chest) for he had just then realized how close he had come to forfeiting his very life through his carelessness and deficient compliance of the stringent protocol.

03- DEPUTY CAUNZE (2)

Constraining the sheer disgust he felt from his voice, Caunze next pointed out sternly how just this once Rukon had been given this rare leeway, that for which he should be thankful. “And be sure to have your future reports more defined and concise.” Caunze tersely added before with a snort of derision he turned and walked away, not caring if Rukon followed.

He subsequently tossed a swift parting shot over his shoulder as his voice trailed into the distance, "His Excellency is not always this charitable.”   

Ceding this one point, Rukon stared after the Deputy with resentment smoldering in his heart. “To think after all I've gone through, having striven so hard to retrieve that cursed flask from a whirling cesspool, for him!”  Rukon bit his lip to hold back his anger and obvious disappointment then quickened his pace to return to his posting.

Subsequent days, Rukon’s routine tasks, his administrative duties, had increasingly became more arduous, his life much more a living hell. Rukon did eventually learn, quite by accident, that the greatest part of the blame for his failings on that day, had rested squarely on the shoulders of his immediate supervisor Caunze; hence, the consequent hostility and the ensued hardships.

                                                                            ~

    

No sooner Caunze and Rukon had disappeared down the hall, surgeon Mosek had been summoned back in to finish the job. Mosek with assiduous speed set to at once tending, cauterizing stitching, and then bandaging the rest of the terrible (extensive) wound on the arm.

All this while, the Dark Eunuch's mind was focused on an intriguing matter, more specifically, the detailed report on an insignificant Steward Chutek in Worren Youkup’s employ. Knowing Worren’s unnatural infatuation (obsession) with Chutek, Egil Viggoaries had the steward shadowed, for a long while, by his agents. Of course, when Egil had first learned of Imperial Tutor's clever manoeuvrings, long before his formal charge, (condemnation)- including the naming of the steward Chutek as the lawful, sole beneficiary of his estate and, anticipating unforeseen adversity his timely implemented certain measures to circumvent it- Egil Viggoaries had been both irate and amused. 

Subsequently, once the Imperial Tutor fell under suspicion, the actuated (triggered) land title search revealed the true measure of Worren’s vast holdings and secreted investments that had been amassed in his long lifetime. Since Worren Youkup had lived so frugally, it had taken everyone by surprise that the old Tutor had been underhandedly so brilliant with his investments, that it had led to the accretion of such magnitude of wealth.

 

04- STEWART CHUTEK TRAVELLING- JP

Recent developments, which entailed the hasty departure of the Steward Chutek from the Capital (Channing) on a facade urgent errand, meanwhile, had mildly elated Egil; nevertheless, he had not yet issued any order to have Chutek apprehended.

In the wake of other troubling reports, the Dark Eunuch's cold heart now contemplated on the added (relevance and) benefits of this, foible of Worren’s, to the case.

Dark Eunuch grimaced, cogitating, as this had then enabled Egil to in the future, formally charge Chutek and those he suspected of being in league with, for the Tutor’s well anticipated, untimely demise or, more specifically, murder.

Currently as things stood, even if Worren Youkup were to be posthumously exonerated, with no living relative to lay claim to his now exposed vast estate (numerous prime properties and funds), it would all still be automatically absorbed by the central Government (the state); then, with only a bit of subtle engineering, the major portion of it could easily, permanently be made to disappear into Egil Viggoaries’s own coffers.

 

                                                                               ~ 

 

(END OF SECTION 16)

 

 

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 12

                                                                         

Worren Youkup had left Lady Sejon’s side nearing mid-morning mentally and physically drained. Profoundly concerned for the welfare of Prince Magnian, he had gone against his better judgment and given his word that he would not say or do anything to advance the matter of the stiletto (penknife) until Her Ladyship Sejon had first in private disclosed her involvement of it to the Sovereign. Worren, furthermore, had hoped and prayed that the good council he had given her Ladyship would be sufficient in obtaining the most lenient of corollary (outcome) from Zakhertan Yozdek, although no one could really be certain of His Highness' reaction on any matter.

Previous night Worren had been resolved to brave the same unfathomable ramifications himself after the conclusion of his visit to Lady Sejon... He would have laid open this shameful episode and hoped that, in view of his impeccable record of long and loyal service that Zakhertan Yozdek would have granted him the opportunity to end his life by his own hand. He may not have deserved burial with honors, but he also felt that he did not deserve the shame of a public execution either. Now, his own future actions, would eradicate that eventuality forever; however, for the sake of Lady Sejon and more importantly, Prince Magnian, a substitute, him, was warranted to bear the full brunt of Sovereign's wrath. His mind, therefore, was nobly set on, when he would be subjected to the inquisition, to doing his utmost and assuming full responsibility for the diabolical offence (wrongdoing), facing the full severity of the law, in order to appease Zakhertan Yozdek’ s insatiable craving for blood.

01-- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (61)

“Then again, would his old, decrepit carcass be enough?”  Worren Youkup inwardly queried, then shrugged: “Well, it’s the only one I have, and it will have to suffice.”  Worren for the first time ever, was happy that he had no living family or close relatives to share his fate (burden); with his trusted Steward Chutek soon safely out of the way, Worren’s heart rested easy knowing that no other of consequence would be made to suffer the anticipated torments, at the hands of  that fiendish Dark Eunuch, Egil Viggoaries.     

 “I have no regrets (compunction) for my age is advanced, and my life has been full and quite gratifying up until now, save for one small qualm. “Worren, looking down, quietly reflected. “I would have turned sixty-five in three weeks time; oh well, I will have to abort plans for the party; ironically, it would have been rather a momentous event, as both a celebration of life and a farewell. Alas, fickle fate has robbed me of the chance.”     

Try as he might, Worren Youkup could not evade the angst (anguish, heartache) that had suddenly, against his will, pained his heart; for he had never ever expected to end his life in such an ignominious manner. The very thought of it made him wince and he fought back the tears that started to form around the (brim) edges of his eyelids.

“Stop this foolish nonsense! “He inwardly, sternly, admonished self. “There's no going back now, Worren Youkup; you are committed to doing this and that is that!” He exhaled deeply, only to be beset with yet another set of worries. “Would there be sufficient time to get Chutek out of harm’s way? Poor Chutek, he would have to remain, even with different identity, in hiding for an exceptionally long while, to escape the clutches of that hound- dog Egil Viggoaries.”  

02- STEWARD CHUTEK 7

Worren Youkup was angry at having also wasted way too much time because of his unscheduled visit with Sejon, now he must hasten even more, to do all requisite tasks (it needed doing) in much shorter period. Calling for his trusted aid Tedor (who’d been with him for well over twenty years), Worren without further delay, set things in motion. Soon after he was seen getting into the palanquin, as he was most eager to take care of this and other related business before his routine (habitual, expected) report to the Sovereign.

Worren first called on a certain official in the Department of Bondsmen whom he had made prior arrangements with, for an interim certificate of manumission for Chutek. The final stages of the official documents would be processed over the subsequent days, and then hidden, duly filed in the archives. Worren had been working towards this end (goal) for quite some time now and having already made most of the preliminary arrangement’s weeks in advance, was now able to finalize the last steps needed to ensure Chutek’s secured, comfortable life. Subsequently, he made another quick call at the Legal sector 3 Department where a document granting Power of Attorney over his affairs to the Scholar Tonzeye Yevgun of Chukset Province was promptly drawn up.

Upon his return home Worren went immediately to his vault and set aside bundles (parcels, packages) of currency (paper money, gold) to be given to the trusted officials responsible for the swift processing of his requests in both the Capital and the Province as well as the hefty fee needed for Chutek 's manumission certificate. Calling a trusted servant, he sent these gifts post haste to the various officials within the Capital. The wads (pouches) for the Provincial officials, a particularly larger sum earmarked for Tonzeye Yevgun, plus the sealed documents, were all then promptly put into a metal traveling cache. The sealed documents were of course the manumission certificate of free citizenship for Chutek, copies of the official papers that were in process, the Power of Attorney to Tonzeye Yevgun and a letter to him directing that all of the land holdings in Chukset Province which Worren had secretly acquired and had hoped to retire on, to be immediately transferred to his Steward Chutek. Hopefully Chutek, by then under a different alias, could escape detection and live out the remainder of his days comfortably in obscurity.

Worren Youkup next went to his study to prepare the last item needed.

 

03-

 In this letter Worren entrusted Chutek’s welfare and his prospects to the capable hands of his friend. In it also he bid his long-time friend farewell and requested his help with the Provincial authorities to ensure that his last (will and testament) wishes were properly conducted. Afterwards, the sealed letter too, was placed in the metal cache, which was then locked. Worren Youkup’s resources in Channing were nearly depleted now, but he did not care; for, what use would they be by the week's end, anyhow?

At dawn of the subsequent day Chutek, clad (dressed) in his travelling attire and, for fifteen minutes now having received his final instructions from Worren, was then imparted the key to the cache and was told to secure it on his person.

Chutek, had been purposely kept Ignorant of the enclosed windfall prize in the locked cache; with only a hint that it had contained Worren’s latest unpublished sonnets (private elegies) and that it required some edification (improvement) and expurgation (editing) , as well,  that it was of utmost importance to his friend the renowned  (distinguished) Scholar Tonzeye.

Steward Chutek, subsequently furnished with appropriate travel papers and expenses, was then instructed to, post haste deliver these to Lord Tonzeye Yevgun in Chukset Province.

04- STEWARD  CHUTEK - IN HIS TRAVELLING CLOTHES

Worren had awesomely disguised (masked) his inner turmoil to completely dupe the astute (incisive) Chutek; hence, the cherished (like a son) steward thinking that he would be gone only for a brief time, exuberant  and all in smiles (anticipating meeting the illustrious Scholar Tonzeve Yevgun whom he’d greatly admired), took his leave of Worren, carrying only one light baggage and a still lighter heart. He had no way of knowing, however, that soon after he’d departed, Worren had curtly (and without explanation) dismissed all his other attendants and then after locking the door to his study, had sat at his desk unmoving for several minutes and with a blank (void) stare fixed (pinned) on a distant (vague) object. This was an innocuous (innocent), unremarkable painting mounted on the far wall, which depicted a snow-capped mountain scenery; though, it held a secret and a specific, affectionate meaning to Worren, and thus, whenever he gazed at it, it had always lightened his soul and gladdened his heart. As he continued to stare at it now, a shadow gradually darkened his face and his expression increasingly became somber (dismal, gloomy), then altogether grave (grim, morbid).

Worren’s brows subsequently knit as his eyes glistened, brimming with moisture in sheer defiance of his will; eventually, a silent string of tears cascaded down, dampening (wetting, moistening) his pallid cheeks.

                                                                                           ~                   

 

The moment that Worren Youkup had left the South Palace, Sejon had began pacing the room back and forth with angry brows knitted in consternation. “All this trouble over one penknife; and now there is the looming threat of Egil Viggoaries on the horizon! What to do? What to do?”  

Sejon smiled wryly, realizing that she had picked up the phrase from Worren Youkup; then the flustered state (anxiety) swiftly returning, her cheeks flushed crimson and she sulked.

05- LADYSHIP SEJON- JP

All she had been able to do so far was to stall the inevitable; she had no intention of ever confessing to Zakhertan Yozdek, for her to do that, would mean, she was either foolhardy or brave, and she was neither. Like everyone else in the Palace she was terrified of Zakhertan Yozdek and his unpredictable riposte. Sejon held no illusion that, because of their intimacy, he would be forgiving or lenient; moreover, whenever she was with him, with an admirable skill she had always masked her fright, knowing Zakhertan despised passive and cowardly women.  

Lady Sejon quaked deep in her heart all the same, each time she was summoned to the cold and forbidding North Palace; for every summons could mean her death sentence and that, one day she’d inadvertently offend him in some way or other, and the next instant, she’d lose her pretty head; though that eventuality would no doubt be the most merciful end, considering Zakhertan’s appetite for blood and suffering.  It would, most likely be, an excruciatingly painful and lingering death! The birth of Prince Magnian meanwhile, had afforded her precious little security or an assurance; she was nevertheless still young, quite beautiful and being optimistic, she had accepted her precarious existence, for the trappings of luxury, power and prestige were all an irresistible draw, in the hope that her eventual, sure fate would be far away. 

For now, she was the Sovereign's favorite, but for how long, she could phantom. Many a sleepless night she had pondered on a concern, a careless word or an act that might have been the instigator to end what she had enjoyed and held dear; that’s right, all could be extinguished in one commanding breath by Zakhertan Yozdek.  Zakhertan's favor had limits, she knew all too well; also, that he had no tolerance for least stupidity, carelessness, or failure.

06- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK AND LADY SEJON

“No, I will not chance it. I will not be confessing to anything and that is that!”  Again, she had mimicked (imitated) another of Worren Youkup’s phrases. “The old coot gave his word for now, but I can only stall him for so long. He must be permanently silenced before he can utter an incriminating word to anyone. Nijel would know what to do. She knew people.”  She stopped abruptly and called out for Nijel, only to be told that her favorite had left without a word to anyone.    

 "Just find her!" Sejon screeched, stamping her foot. "I don't want to hear excuses! I want to see her now!"  The panic-stricken servants rushed to comply as Sejon resumed her pacing and grumbled aloud, "What to do? What to do?"    

                                                                                                                  ~

 

It also happened that Senior Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund also had a strategically placed network of informants and was routinely apprised of all developments in domestic and foreign affairs as well as the plotted intrigues, the very moment they transpired, within the walls of the four Palaces. It could be said that he was the second most influential and informed official in the

Kingdom, His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek being the first, except that no one, other than Sovereign, knew of it.  

In Channing, as the Senior Grand Secretary, Qarzten Caimund had always concealed well his predominant aptitudes behind the reticent humility and polite decorum that put everyone, friend, and foe alike, at their ease, especially when with him. Since he was never perceived as an ardent adversary whom he could be, he received the full cooperation of all factions. Only Zakhertan Yozdek from the beginning, discerning beneath Qarzten’s deceptive façade, his strong analytical mind and aggressive sometimes brutal will that wielded the strong arm of the law to bring swift justice and order to all segments of the Central Government, appreciated and same time remained vigilant of Qarzten Caimund.

Zakhertan Yozdek was the only one who could so utilize Qarzten’s invaluable input, his subtle yet vital role in preventing, suppressing, or eliminating, chronic internal Royal strife that flared up from time to time, which if left unchecked, could have seriously undermined Wenjenkun government’s core stability. Meanwhile, under Qarzten Caimund ‘s directive his invisible force had always, in the aftermath of any sporadic Provincial insurgency swiftly and humanely, with minimal cost, restored lasting stability as well, the law and order. Of course, at times certain glitches (anomalies) had unavoidably necessitated brutal crackdowns of the suspected or budding parasitic cliques, and so, those violent nationwide sweeps, had become the consistent (regular) trademark of Zakhertan Yozdek’s reign. But mostly, Zakhertan valued Qarzten Caimund for his farsightedness and uncanny precision when he closed in for the kill. As it were, the Senior Grand Secretary had the eerie ability to perceive calamitous events well in advance of their germination into outright trouble and to present, through his timely intervention, had kept the adept Central Government’s diverse functioning body intact, as well, preserved the omnipotent power of Sovereign.  Sovereign Zakhertan impressed with Qarzten’s competence, had additionally, covertly, assigned Qarzten to the crucial, challenging task of checking the growing influence and maintaining the balance between, two key factions under the leadership of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and Director of Security Egil Viggoaries. Things being the way they were, however, the full extent of Qarzten Caimund’s specific duties had never been fully specified, leaving room for Sovereign’s future addendums in the Rules’ Book.

07- QARZTEN CAMUND (4)B -jp

Qarzten Caimund’s discerning mind nevertheless anticipating Zakhertan Yozdek’s future aspirations, had started, as early as when he held the position of Censor, the enormous task of compiling all (grievous offences and) damaging evidence against the two chief factional leaders, for their eventual, lawful incarceration and deposal. The result of Qarzten Caimund’s continuous, meticulous investigations of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s illicit dealings, been the compiled stacks and stacks of documents, all, linking the PM to a multitude of crimes: everything from kidnapping, torture, bribery, extortion and even murder. Lamont Gudaren reeked of corruption to the very marrow, a typical representative of everything Qarzten detested in a man; furthermore, the amassed evidence could be deemed sufficient to expediently have His Excellency (PM) and his affiliates tried in the High Court and promptly executed.

Qarzten knew that the new Prime Minister had already, secretly been picked out by Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek, who was waiting for precise time to inform the candidate of his promotion. Qarzten Caimund wanted nothing more than to promptly rid the country of this parasite, this carrion crow Lamont Gudaren but he had patiently postponed informing His Highness of his latest findings, pending (awaiting) the final piece of evidence to, at right opportunity, simultaneously present both airtight cases, against PM Lamont Gudaren and Chief of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries, in one comprehensive report.     

Strangely enough, both culprits’ lives were intertwined in many ways. The hindrance  (impediment) unfortunately, had risen from Egil Viggoaries’s sector and, despite all Qarzten Caimund’s intense efforts, he had not made as good a progress as he had hoped, this warranting the last minute, slight rescheduling. But once armed with the expected proof

Qarzten would then, petition (and strongly urge) Zakhertan Yozdek not to delay the inevitable. Furthermore, if managed properly, the situation could be brought to swift satisfactory conclusion, without involving the Sovereign's Elite Guard or kindle any new civil unrest. Delay would portend only more ills.

 

(END OF SECTION 12)

 

 

                                                                                                       ~

 

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 9

 

Worren Youkup had realized that it was now too late for him to extricate himself from this terrible fix (pickle). The breach of trust could never be mended; besides which, how could he, albeit subtly, inquisition Sejon to arrive at the whole truth? And what would he do with the truth? Worst still, what if she professed her innocence and started to cry? 

 

01- WORREN YOUKUP (6)JP

The circumstances, whatever the prospects, all ended up stymieing Worren Youkup. While reflecting on the worse scenario, the old tutor's concerns gradually shifted to his loyal retinue of servants who would be summoned by Egil Viggoaries for questioning and inevitably be tortured until under duress they, confessed to all the real and imagined gaffes (errors) their Master might have committed. Steward Chutek, he knew, being his favorite, would fare the worst. “Should I report directly to? No.” He shook his head to rid himself of the grim images of the horror he would endure at the hands of Egil Viggoaries.    

“No, it is best I fabricate an errand and send Chutek out of harm’s way to my friend Tonzeye Yevgun in Chukset Province before the truth breaks.” A sealed, confidential letter with brief explanative of the situation, along with Chutek’s emancipation papers and a generous settlement to provide him with fresh start in new life, could all be forwarded to his friend Tonzeye, well in advance of Chutek’s arrival. Having settled on this course, Worren nodded decisively, “Yes, I shall address that matter immediately after my visit with Lady Sejon.” As it were, he still needed to ascertain, few things first. His prior urgent engagements, meanwhile, now having become less pressing would have to be postponed. After some more time spent in contemplation, Worren in desperate need of forty winks (sleep), even for just an hour or two to regenerate, eventually made his way back to his bed and crawled under the silk brocade comforter. Lying on his back, with the fragrant, plush (luxurious) bedcover pulled up to his chin, eyes shut tight, he still could not fall asleep (doze off, catnap), nor could he shake the feeling of foreboding (doom and gloom) that hovered over his head, particularly with the vivid images of that cursed dream incessantly parading in his mind’s eye. With decisive effort he finally pushed aside all those dreadful, fearful thoughts and concentrated instead on the serene scene of his childhood, to regulate his breathing and relax his mind; however, hours passed still with still no sleep.     

As he desperately needed to get at the truth and to save face, his thoughts had once more turned back on the manner of approach he would take with Lady Sejon when tomorrow he visited her. Sejon did not normally receive visitors until after noon, but Worren Youkup was determined to pay a surprise visit to the Lady's apartments shortly after dawn. He would wake her up, if necessary, and extricate a satisfactory explanation from her. He had settled on the stern approach, and he was determined not be intimidated by any tears; however, he would exercise patience and curtail his temper, affording her the opportunity to air her defense, if only for civility’s sake. There was no gratification in berating a frailer being. If on the other hand, he was to let go of this and overlook her part in it, left unchecked, she might continue injuring others in this way. At least she should be made to see the error of her ways; and that was why it was imperative he had a candid talk with her.   

Worren Youkup felt more at ease, almost comforted, to be back in his role as tutor until, his rage; unexpectedly rising (escalating) anew, this time was directed at his own failings. This sort of blunder would not have happened even as short as one year ago. What was happening to him? Was he suddenly going soft in the head? Channing was a dangerous place for the injudicious; would he survive the next akin blunder? Worren Youkup did not fear death as such; but he was proud of his prior accomplishments and had always been self-righteous in his actions. What he feared most was to, pass away (expire) with besmirched reputation. His status and good name meant everything to him. In his span of seventy years, he had lived in accordance with what he believed and preached, with perfect decorum and etiquette, with unfaltering loyalty to family and home, and staunch, undying devotion to the Sovereign and the State. His good standing was the only legacy; besides, seventeen insignificant compilations of literary works left in the Royal Library that he would leave behind when his mortal form was reduced to dust. How could he remedy this recent failing which would leave such a culpable imprint, a shameful blemish, on his otherwise perfect, impeccable life's work? How could he erase this grave mistake? It could not be done. Why not then, without further delay bravely admit his failing to Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek and stoically accept his ignominious end and be done with it?   

In this agitated state and with his skin prickling Worren Youkup had remained awake the remainder of the night, staring blankly at the canopy of the bed, oftentimes tossing, and turning, his mind reeling with endless cycles of self-recrimination. One minute cursing his advanced age and cowardice at not being able to swiftly end his life with measure of decorum, then in the next breath, cursing the ill-fated times they all lived in where which evil thrived in every crevice of life. Rounding out these thoughts was memories of Lady Sejon and, dire oaths to never again let him be manipulated or cajoled by womanly wiles.  He cast aside the covers and set at the edge of the bed. He was incensed (infuriated, exasperated) with himself. It should never have happened. What an asinine thing to do!

He clenched his fists till his knuckles were white.  It was humiliating enough to be duped or, to put it kindlier, swayed by her charms. He had been lately, because of Prince Mangnian, fallen into the habit of calling on her in the afternoons to enjoy her delightful company, while partaking tea and tiny cucumber sandwiches which were his favorites. Those times, he would also, with approval, observe her performance (playing the role) of the conscientious, dutiful mother, very much concerned with the welfare and correct upbringing of her son, Prince Magnian.

 

02- LADY SEJON  YOZDEDK  (104)

   

How cunning of her to have tapped into his largest weakness; his firmly held belief that, overall, mothers were special, wonderful, and superior beings, to be perpetually esteemed, everlastingly revered, and rightly accorded a treasured status in every civilized society. He had worshipped his own mother who had been lost to him in early childhood, as the archetype of human treasures. His (recollections) memories of her countless loving ministrations, to date, still brought tears to this eye. As with all things there were of course, the sinister/ dark exceptions in Channing, more precisely the Royal Court of present regime, which had brought together more than its fair share of the ambitious, the grasping and detestable lot that sadly marred the sacred graces of motherhood.    

Sejon a good mother? Hah! he scoffed. He bristled as he thought, in hindsight, how her sort treated their own children, flesh of their flesh, as if they were but inanimate objects to be used as lethal weapons to further their own ambitions. There was no family feeling or respect here, only naked greed. He was, just then, reminded of another similarly distasteful example of a bad mother. The memory caused his lips to curl away from his teeth slightly, oh, but Lady Lingrace was far worse. For too many years (more than he could count,) he had observed from the sidelines how her son, Heng Erling, had been subjected to constant ridicule and scorn, so masterfully initiated, that he did not even guess that he was being artfully manipulated into, furthering his   mother's vile ambitions. Lady Lingrace had once been the attendant to Lady Elin (Prince Qijerrik and Prince Herleif’s mother). During that time and, even after her husband Gustav Erling had been executed for treason, she had continued to, without shame, her not so secret, illicit affair with Zakhertan Yozdek. Shortly after Grand Marshal Gustav Erling’s execution, all members of his family including Heng's elder siblings had all been put to the sword. Heng Erling had been spared solely, and Worren Youkup was certain of this, because the boy was the illegitimate son of Zakhertan Yozdek.   

“Where did all you’re scheming get you in the end, Lady Lingrace Erling, all that conniving and treachery?”   Worren Youkup mumbling shrugged; he was secretly pleased at the ironic outcome. “You had managed to retain your fine good looks but in the end the signs of ageing had finally caught up with you. You became a has-been, but you refused to bow out gracefully and live quietly in the background.” Worren shook his head knowing, Lady Lingrace right up to the very end had competed with the younger favorites, scheming, and plotting, strangely enough still igniting Sovereign’s passion, and choosing to exist, though precariously, near the apex power.    

“I will never understand the insatiable drive that motivates such ambition; you, a married woman and as the lady- in- waiting to Prince Qijerrik’s mother Lady Elin, are guilty of violating most sacred trusts. When Grand Marshal Gustav Erling fell from grace after failing to capture Lord Zhon and the infant Prince Nevetsecnuac, and you were doomed to share his fate, was it not your betrayed head of household Lady Elin’ gracious and benevolent plea on your behalf, that had spared your wretched life and the life of your illegitimate spawn? Even after all that happened, you had not changed one bit; right to the end you had connived and plotted. Imagine sending Heng Erling, on not so secret, fool’s errand. I fear he had been lost to Sovereign forever, never to be heard from again. You had parlayed your bargaining chip on a bet and lost him. Then all it took was one minor incidence to cause your downfall; for who would care to defend an old relic who had an extensive history of perfidy?” Worren Youkup in a hushed voice had aired this entire grievance to the pitch, empty room; for to date, deep in his heart he still bore a lasting resentment towards Lady Lingrace Erling who, as a young woman, had spurned the friendly advances of the well-meaning young pupil of the Royal Tutor Keonz. Barely out of childhood herself, she had shown a talent for unconscionable duplicity and astuteness that evenly matched her budding beauty; arrogant and full of herself, she had dealings with and fawned only on those she had deemed useful.

03- YOUNG LADY  LINGRACE

She had advanced her cause first by marrying Gustav Erling and then ingratiating herself into the good graces of Lady Bera then Lady Elin. Unfortunately, the young scholar with no political or family connections and a potential future as a eunuch Royal Tutor’s protégé did not fall into that exalted category.  All the same Worren Youkup would have understood that, however, it was her years of unmitigated, taunting cruelty and belittlement he found so hard to forgive. Truly one of a kind she was. Worren absently nodded, recalling countless cases where she had demonstrated her proficiency in manipulation and how over the years the shrew had managed to get away with so much.    

Worren had never admitted it to anyone, but despite being constantly snubbed, once when he had been totally inebriated, during a rare, debauched encounter with Lady Lingrace Erling, he had learned at an early age, a most useful, albeit painful, lesson and pointers, regarding the antediluvian arts of corporal deception.

04- LADY LINGRACE

Even so, it had still baffled Worren because most discerning Zakhertan Yozdek, had tolerated her for as long as he had. How Zakhertan’s patience never appeared frayed when he dealt with her, even when he passed the death sentence on her as she quivered before him. Then again, who can ever fathom the motives of a Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek?   

You digress, Worren Youkup! Worren inwardly admonished self, shaking his head as if to purge such irrelevancies from his mind and, to steer his concentration back on the matters at hand. Sejon mighty be a different sort, but she was no less a vixen. With all his life's experiences, it shamed him to think how Lady Sejon had so artfully used his own weaknesses to advance her own aims.

On every visit she had enticed (bribed) him with his favorite small cucumber sandwiches and other rare and exquisite sweets, a particular vice he was not proud of, but one which enabled her to lure him into cooperative mood. Growing close to both mother and son, he had vicariously enjoyed the typical family life he had missed and coveted for his whole life. She had flattered him endlessly, feeding his ego by acting as if he was a nominal head of the family. Even though he was unofficially retired (and considered by few in the palace an honorable relic), she had asked him how best to educate and guide her now five-year-old infant son, saying it was never too early to begin a proper education. Though these assertions echoed his own sentiments, as he had asserted so many times in the past, they had appeared fresh and genuine when they came from her. He had been primed so artfully that he had played right into her hands, had willingly imparted to her the vital information, and unwittingly instructed her on the countless pertinent steps to take to make the smooth transition and to attain her hidden, ultimate goal-that of showing Prince Magnian as the only potential candidate to replace the already despised Crown Prince Herleif.  It was a boon to her cause that Magnian already exhibited good stamina, agility, and an unusual courage for a toddler (an infant). An adaptive learner, he had already with his adorable qualities, innately endeared himself to those that mattered.  

05- PRINCE MAGNIEN YOZDEK

The apparent potential of this child had pleased Zakhertan Yozdek enough that he had become a bit more disposed to Sejon’s sly, relentless suggestions, oftentimes when he rested in bed after a pleasurable activity. As it were, from birth Magnian had been kept under scrutiny and vigilantly protected from unforeseen hazards that had befallen his former siblings. 

By the time, the activity outside had gradually tapered off Worren, out of sheer exhaustion, had also drifted into a fitful sleep only to be woken abruptly minutes later by the morning bells.

 

(END OF SECTION 9)