11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION - 4

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION - 4

Month after month, each night’s routine was the same for Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek; this evening as well, he was burdened with so many imperative official (bureaucratic) documents needing his special perusal.

“I detest squandering my time in this way, even with the most able of help, monitoring and controlling the wolves that are my vassals.” Zakhertan Yozdek scoffed inwardly, shifting in his seat. “What an utter waste of my talents. This cursed dreary existence … This never ending; cloying, suffocating, bureaucratic red tape could drive a lesser man to madness. Darn it all!” Zakhertan ground his teeth. “Even the slowest of torturous death would be preferable to this present inertia (inaction).”

 

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK   JP

 Wearily, Zakhertan closed his eyes as if to escape it all. Never had he felt so empty in heart, so utterly alone; his true aspirations had always been to- as a brilliant tactician, a great general with invincible prowess- burgeon (thrive) at the battlefield… That was the only life for him. Zakhertan heaved a deep, dejected sigh, pining to be once more in the combat zone (at the front line); at least there, Zakhertan had no qualms, no artificial worries to be addressed, nothing taxing his patience. There he would be in his element, thriving on solving precise, (clear) arduous yet all too familiar tactical problems while accepting the perils that each new campaign entailed. Dicey warrior’s life was unquestionably preferable to this cackling of barren hens that called itself a political arena. What a waste it was, for someone who has had war pulsing in his veins, ever since he had been a suckling…

Zakhertan’s mind just then was diverted (sidetracked) by the recollection of a once propagated hearsay (rumour), that had described how he, Zakhertan, had come into this world:

 Purportedly (supposedly), at the time of his birth, he had kicked so violently that he had ruptured the very womb that had prior nourished and sustained his life; hence, he had claimed his first victim, his very gentle and loving mother, Lady Rosaline, before he had even drawn his first breath.

This tale (false account) imparted to Zakhertan during his early childhood by none other than his hateful stepmother Lady Serafina, had left an indelible (permanent) mark (blot) on his conscience till adolescence and had irrevocably fashioned his innate character.

 It was not till much later that he had learned of the truth; that his birth had been a breach-birthing and, his Lord father valuing a son more than his wife, had ordered the tending physician to slice open her womb and extract the male offspring, regardless of the (blood-loss  and) consequence.

02-  ZAKHERTAN'S FATHER

Zakhertan’s father Lord Kade Yozdek, back then had been an influential personage in the Northern border province. He controlled massive resources and vast lands which had been owned (inherited) by the Yozdek clan for five generations; furthermore, he regulated most trade and maintained a small private army in addition to the border imperial troops, allocated to him supposedly for stability and maintenance of peace. His generals perpetually guarded (patrolled) the northern region, for the purposes of preventing and subduing the sporadic violent incursions from ethnic tribes that trespassed into his lands, as well, invaded or pillage the remote border towns and regions. The governor of the district, toadied to the lord, recognizing the fact that he held the real power in this northern territory (state).

Lord Kade, a cold, calculating, impious (licentious) man, had remarried quickly after the death of his principal wife Lady Rosaline, well before the period of mourning had been officially over. This advantageous union however, had been a strategic, loveless union, and though his new wife, Zakhertan’s stepmother Serafina, had borne his Lord father first a girl offspring and then a boy, the boy had not lived long enough to see his second year.

The young Zakhertan had no regrets about eliminating his rival sibling, despite the untold grief it had caused to his, by then odious Lord father. The licentious brute had often when drunk derided and brutally beaten willful and defiant Zakhertan senseless.

03- YOUNG ZAKHERTAN

Despite his oppressive and violent childhood, or perhaps because of it, Zakhertan had always, for as long as he could remember, taken solace in battle and in living life on the edge (of death). Even now he could smell the carnage and envisioned with a certain longing the terrible havoc, the glorious devastation he would wreak on his next campaign. Alas, he knew that for the time being at least he had to forbear (be patient) and resolve few more snags (glitches) in his governance (control) before he could venture anew at the head of a massive army and, finally met his most worthy adversary (nemesis), Emperor Deng Hedenko of Kontu.

Zakhertan’s gaging and astute (keen) mind had already factored in the inevitability of the prolonged and costly campaign (battle) and the resulting gory before that anticipated eventual victory (triumph). It would be a conflict the like of which had no precedence in Wenjenkun’s history; nevertheless, one his heart frenziedly craved (yearned for).

Patience, however, had never been Zakhertan’s innate virtue; it had to be doggedly (resolutely) forced and perpetually (constantly) learned.

“Curse Dwengzur for cheating me out of that fight!”  Denied that fundamental (essential) reprieve, Zakhertan’s thoughts had just then reverted to the Immortal; thus, his fists involuntarily clenched, as he crossly (irately) cogitated (deliberated) on that nagging concern.

“Where was that bothersome wizard anyway…How could he still be at large, a man of Dwengzur's caliber… Escaping his (Zakhertan’s) vast network of spies which was entrenched right across the known world?”

But even as he had asked this, Zakhertan already knew the answer. And it was for that reason that despite Zakhertan's protests and denials, the Immortal’s disappearance had deeply troubled him; especially since the extensive, persistent search, which had even encompassed the regions of Korion all the way up to the island of Kontu, still furiously, had failed to deliver least trace of Dwengzur or his sort’s abode.     

Zakhertan Yozdek had of course inwardly laughed at the circulating blathers, refused to give least credence to the preposterous, imbecilic notions, belief of couple of his supposed, brainy officials, that Dwengzur was a demigod. (Minor god- one regarded as such in a hierarchy of other gods.) 

04- DWENGZUR THE DEMIGOD (49)JP

These key bureaucrat sucker fools, had hypothesized that “Dwengzur had in fact been sent by Divine authority, to assist and protect their illustrious and righteous Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek from serious harm and, once the earthly task had been completed, Dwengzur had returned from whence he came.”     

Meanwhile it had served his (Zakhertan’s) purpose well, to let the plebians be gulled by all that superstitious nonsense. Ordinary folk (plebs) had always been prone to (deducing then) attributing strange manifestations to the work of Supreme Gods. Zakhertan grimaced wryly and shrugged. The Hexocian religion, one of the surviving orders, to date had been secretly manipulated and utilized to bend the inferior minds, enabling that contemptuous lot to be herded like sheep into doing his (Zakhertan’s) bidding whenever the need rose? Did they think that he would ever tolerate, let alone perpetuate that farce, that contemptible pretext of those religious orders, without reason?

“Divine intervention indeed, “Zakhertan Yozdek (the atheist) again scoffed venomously reflecting at this point on the incredulous notion that, Gods would take any notice of the bothersome, writhing, myriad creatures. “Earthly task ha!” Zakhertan Yozdek hissed out a long breath and smiled tautly, as memories of his hundreds and thousands of acts of (heathen) brutality came to mind.

“Surely none of those abhorred acts were condoned by these righteous Gods. And besides, where was the expected retribution; his reign to date had remained unchallenged and consolidated. That proved it: Gods did not exist. But Immortals did exist.”

Zakhertan’s gaze then pensively turned to the painting of the white tiger, mounted on the far wall. He stared at it for a time, then with awry smile he looked down.

05 - WHITE TIGER 10- JP

Few years back to expel his boredom Zakhertan had gone on a dangerous venture, a hunt for a fearsome white tiger that had terrorized three remote villages at high elevation at the northern end, and the  furthest reaches of Wenjenkun’s Toreaken Province.

The white tiger of incredible size and ferocity after his rampaging through these villages, had left behind countless mangled and mutilated corpses (both humans and animals). Hundreds of half-eaten parts littered the blood-soaked pathways (grounds), before the callous beast had finally retreated to his lair at that towering peak; with only a precarious goat’s path leading up to it, way passed the densely forested mountain ridge.

 Always up for a challenge Zakhertan Yozdek, perfectly disguised as ordinary hunter had gone alone on a venture to add this monstrous beast’s head to his other mounted trophies.

06- WHITE TIGER 5- JP

Zakhertan had pursued the carnivorous beast hotly, but then at the crucial juncture, when he spotted it, he’d taken aim at the edge of sheer cliff and was poised to shoot his poisoned arrow when, the earth underneath his footing had suddenly given way and he’d plummeted down into a deep, bottomless abyss (chasm) along with the fallen debris. Halfway down, he had gripped (gotten hold of) one or two of the (exposed,) resilient dangling roots, which protruded from the precipitous edge (vertical drop) and so escaped certain death.

Proceeding (climbing, advancing) once more towards the peak (summit), mid-way up he had discovered the hidden opening to a huge cavern (grotto) and fearlessly went inside. Advancing in pitch darkness, he had followed one of the subterranean tunnels and after escaping six or seven perilous pitfalls, had emerged unscathed, when it was nearing dusk, at the outside.

The topography (landscape) and the fauna that had greeted his eyes, when abruptly the miasmic (vaporous, gaseous, misty) fog cleared, had appeared to him most strange; moreover, he noted the sudden, stark (abysmal), all encompassing absence of all sound. He was considering which direction to advance, when just then a bot of lightening streak from a cloudless sky and then a tremendous ruckus at a distance drew his attention to a small clearing, beyond the dense (forest) grove of trees.

Zakhertan had approached the area cautiously and then, concealing his presence, had avidly and elatedly, watched the ongoing deadly and intense combat between two, sure to be Immortal warriors. Fortune smiling on him, he had also eye-witnessed and heard the subsequent invocation (incantation) of the “Nokuzikos Spell,” by the clearly senior rank Immortal warrior; after which, in a flash, his opponent had then been (utterly subdued) bested.

07- IMMORTALS FIGHTING (4)

The defeated and partially incapacitated younger Immortal had subsequently, been swiftly carted (lugged) away by the victor, both riding the clouds, to oblivion.  

Zakhertan Yozdek had always been gifted with retentive memory and the ability to recall information however complex, verbal, or visual, with great accuracy and clarity; forgetting all about the white tiger, for he had attained a far greater prize, he had joyously returned home. Possessing   this “Nokuzikos Spell,” his already indomitable powers subsequently further enhanced, he had since then been invincible in every battle or single combat. Notwithstanding how formidable the enemy been, his adversaries (foe, opposition) had always (been defeated without fail) suffered the same fate.  

This advantage, the sure gift, had a terrible drawback (derivative) however, for Zakhertan being a mere mortal, after each invocation of the Nokuzikos Spell, he had consequently, always suffered (succumbed to) the subsequent day, an intense and unimaginable smarting (painful) headache. No amount of medicine or care would alleviate (assuage, lessen) the extreme pressure and the excruciating, throbbing in his head. His personal physicians lived in dread at such times, fearing that Zakhertan might inevitably one day, undergo a fatalistic aneurism (aneurysm) in the brain and so expire.

Never forgetting the fierce combat between those two superior beings, Zakhertan had of course instigated for a long time, thorough searches for their kind. But all subsequent pursuits (quests, hunt) had been unfortunately proved in vain, till quite recently that is, when Zakhertan had learned of Dwengzur’s presence in Channing.

Dwengzur, an alleged wizard, employed for entertainment purposes during one of Egil Viggoaries’s infamous social gatherings, had left quite an impression on all that had been present. The culminated reports intriguing Zakhertan, he had at once summoned Dwengzur to his presence.  Zakhertan had at length questioned the so-called Wizard; though infuriated by his deceit, Zakhertan had nevertheless played along and kept his ire in check, to secretly monitor this Immortal’s activities, as well, uncover the whereabouts of his Race. Anticipating that, where there was one, there would be others and utilizing such beings would make him more omnipotent (all-powerful and unstoppable) Ruler.

(END OF SECTION 4)

 

                                                                           ~  

  

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 16

 At a safe distance Nevetsecnuac brought the horse to a halt, with a purpose of discarding the load of game into a roadside ditch to unburden the horse and gain more speed. Suddenly however, from the far-away dense forest’s edge, he spotted a woodcutter emerging and inclined to do a good turn, spurred the horse off the road and over the rougher terrain towards him.

01- LOOKING AT THE WOODS

 Nevetsecnuac hailed the woodsman, then halted his mount at hearing range of the other; catching his eye, he then graciously inclined his head and after a polite greeting, pointed at the load of game at the back of the mare and next, generously offered the woodcutter, as gift, the entire load of game.

The stalwart, middle-aged tall man, hardly believing his ears, dropped his bundle of firewood and rushed forward enthusiastically to accept the load (furs and carcasses) that Nevetsecnuac had offered him.

At midpoint of his advance, however, the man's face suddenly, unexpectedly clouded over with deep concern and, abruptly halting his step, he locked both arms to his sides.  Shaking his head in adamant refusal, he knitted his brows and, sizing Nevetsecnuac up and down with suspicion, dubiously asked, "And why should you want to do that…us, being strangers and all that?"

His meaning was all too clear, and his tone spoke volumes.  He was accusing Nevetsecnuac of theft or even worse.

02-WOODSMAN 2

Nevetsecnuac, who was about to dismount and unpack the load from the horse, hesitated, a dark shadow crossing his face and he presently regretted his prior decision not to simply discard the game at the roadside.  As it were, another in his place, finding the woodcutter's scrutiny unwarranted and his suspicions highly offensive, would have at least berated the wretch on the spot for his ungrateful and rude conduct.

 Nevetsecnuac, however, had remarkably constrained his deep disappointment and disregarding the slight (slur) , had inclined his head to first introduce himself, using an alias he had concocted on the spot; then, with eloquence and dignity, strove to allay (dispel) the woodcutter’s fears and qualms by assuring latter (other) that the game had been honestly attained. The only hindrance, however, lay in Nevetsecnuac’s inability to invent, a most plausible explanation as to, why he would hunt so much game just to discard it all away to mere stranger in the middle of nowhere.

Highly suspicious woodcutter’s response by rights should not have been that much of a surprise; characteristically, with eyes narrowed, snarling, woodcutter had typically just then burst, “What do you take me for? I’m not a simpleton in some border town you can easily manipulate! No, I won't buy any of this.  You're most definitely up to no good and, if I were to accept this booty (as your accomplice,) it will surely land me in serious trouble.  You don't even talk like a hunter.  You're no common man, more like a …”  He paused briefly as his mind searched for words like academic, official, scholar?  “And you're certainly not from these parts.  There's no use denying it, I've lived here practically all my life.  You're definitely not from here and you're most certainly up to some mischief."  With each utterance his voice had become louder and (threatening) hostile then, brandishing his axe, he menacingly stepped forward and (spitting venom, simply) glared at Nevetsecnuac.

"I may be a rough woodcutter to you, but I can still fight as well as any seasoned squaddie (soldier, private, warrior).  Go find yourself another stooge to pin your heinous crimes on."  As he spoke, the man was inwardly cursing the infirmities heaped on him by his hard existence.  “In my heyday (prime), I'd overcome this brute in an instant; then, thief that he is, I could’ve turned him over to the authorities and get me a big, fat reward, instead of uttering idle threats and wasting my breath.” He inwardly scoffed (jeered).

"As you wish,” Nevetsecnuac was beginning to lose patience; but then on second thought, he again forced constraint on his temper and ejected evenly, "I'm sorry if I have unintentionally caused you unwarranted trepidation and much undue anxiety, sir.  Please accept my sincerest apologies.  I will trouble you no longer."

03- NEVETSECNUAC THE HUNTER 14- JP

 Nevetsecnuac steered (turned, coxed) his mount around to leave this ungrateful woodcutter; his intention was to discard the amassed game, carcasses, secured on the back of the mare, somewhere else, anywhere but here, and further along the route the better.

The shrewd and lithe (nimble) woodcutter, meanwhile, had vacillated in his resolve, though only for a spell, regretting his hasty rebuff.  “Could he have misjudged this youth? He should have trusted his prior instinct, instead of letting fear and disbelief cloud his judgement, perhaps erroneously. But no,” his stubborn heart rebuffed it; his inner caution resurfacing again. 

“Why should he make me such a generous gift, unless there is mischief involved?”

His brain colluding (scheming) had rattled on, while machinating thoughts alongside registering in lightning speed, forced his mind to further consider all aspects with more clarity and depth, to arrive at sly plot.

Certainly, game was prevalent in the mountains, but the land was equally perilous and riddled with pitfalls and the amount of game the solitary hunter had had with him, as competent as he appeared, still told of at least a week's worth of effort.  Why should the hunter discard it all, when he could easily make a handsome profit for the lot, in town?  

Then again, with his (woodcutter’s) own meager sustenance, why should he let this good fortune pass him by?  Heaven had delivered this into his calloused hands, would it not be better to invite the hunter to his shack, drug and then deliver (deposit) him bound and gagged before the authorities?  Why should he, because of prudence (caution and fear), let this golden opportunity slip through his fingers? Yes, the trick may well work; he had just enough belladonna left, after the last use.

For a moment his heart was downcast, thinking how he’d worked so hard to bury his past, endured so much in this isolated corner… but still that brute had tracked him down then dared to threaten to expose him….  The Woodcutter had just then momentarily shifted focus onto the deep, ugly scar on his left hand; an involuntary shudder just then rippled through him, recollecting that last spontaneous act and the consequential perilous brush with death. He had got exactly what he deserved!  The Woodcutter inwardly hissed then shook his head to expunge all those unwelcome thoughts, forcing his attention to the present situation. In the end he nodded his head, having decided already on how to deal with this present dilemma, then with incredible agility of a wildcat, rushed at once, with open arms (with one arm still holding the axe however), showing he meant no harm, to stoically (with stoicism) block the hunter’s path.

With the fire in his eyes burning with steel determination and, his left hand still gripping the axe, the woodcutter stonily stared up at Nevetsecnuac for a time, his unruly mind, meanwhile, racing with new possibilities.  Just as quickly however, his focus snapped back to present reality and with unreadable expressions on his face then, his eyes betraying nothing, however, his voice carrying urgent, apologetic tone, he yowled (yelped) at the mounted youth: "Wait! Please wait!”

With uncanny agility and stubbornness, he next rushed forward to tug at the hunter’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) trouser leg.  "I…I do apologize.  Please forgive me, generous sir.  I lost my head there for a spell.  Times are hard, very hard, and one can't be too careful these days, you know.  You could have been a government agent, secret police, some spy, or simply an affiliate henchman. How could I, a poor old woodcutter with failing eyesight, decipher the truth anymore?  Everything is getting more secretive; more complex all the time.  Please don't hold my blunder against me.  I know now in my heart that I've done you grievous wrong and for that I'm truly, deeply ashamed.  Say that you forgive me."  He entreated (implored) Nevetsecnuac in seeming sincerity, giving him no chance to respond.

"I discern now that you're an honest chap." The woodcutter incessantly continued with his honeyed words. "So, let us put aside these obvious misunderstandings, all right?  I will graciously accept your most generous gift.  You must permit me, in return, to repay your kindness and, as well, atone for my mistakes.  Why don't you come with me for a hot meal?  My wife is a good cook and can prepare a dozen or so savory dishes in the blink of an eye.  The way you're heading, you won't see an inn or hostel for at least three, five days’ ride.  Please accept a hot meal and a night's lodging from this old man."

“Savory dishes; an odd choice of words for a crude (an unsophisticated) woodsman(woodcutter). I doubt he even has a wife.”  Nevetsecnuac, losing patience, but only inwardly, coolly rebuffed (snubbed); then outwardly shaking his head, in an even tone just stated that he could not unfortunately spare the time and with a definite no nonsense demeaner, spurred his horse forward.

The old man, forced aside, immediately dropped all pretenses and with his dark countenance, grinding his teeth, once more hurled curses and treats after Nevetsecnuac.

04- WOODSMAN

Checking his rising fury, Nevetsecnuac reminded himself that the woodsman (woodcutter) was only a victim of his circumstances, was acting out of fear and therefore not entirely responsible for his erratic behavior; nevertheless, with sadness gripping his heart, he half turned to take one last long look at the enraged woodsman, and with just a slight nod of his head he calmly  bid him farewell, then simply rode off into distance.

 He did not look back nor lend an ear to the mounting torrent of abuse and curses let loose (heaped after him) by the highly incensed, indignant woodsman.

                                                                         ~

Riding into the distance, Nevetsecnuac was for a time (spell) despondent (downhearted) and also bit concerned that the old man might report this incident to the authorities, until; he reminded himself that, the rest of his journey would be spent under the alias of Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Later, with twilight (dusk, sunset) fast approaching, at some distant spot, as he discarded the pelts (furs) and carcasses (meat) of game into a gravel ditch, he quietly admonished himself for his careless act of going out of his way to do a good turn and, for being too trusting.

“You must harden your heart if you are to succeed.” Zonar's cryptic warning suddenly came to mind.

 Nevetsecnuac nodded, thus resolved to follow that good counsel.

05- NEVETS ON HORSEBACK

With the load lightened and the road ahead flat and featureless, Nevetsecnuac, with one fluid motion, mounted the mare and taking up the reigns, spurred her into a full gallop. For several hours, they rode like the wind, with the mare's hooves barely touching the ground, covering great distances even though the darkness had encroached on the land.

Nevetsecnuac would have ceaselessly continued riding all night long till down, since the ominous clouds had  by now been quickly swept away with the relentless winds, allowing the starry sky with full moon, to perfectly illuminate the desolate (remote segment of state highway) thoroughfare; however, for his mount’s sake (mare not being Fiery Comet), they halted at a safe spot for a brief respite and for (intake of) sustenance.

                                                                            ~

 

(END OF SECTION 16) 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 14

After Magistrate Yakove Zewe’s departure, Judicial Commissioner Birgergu Gunt had ridden his closed carriage at breakneck speed to the residence of his good friend the Provincial Governor Rexi, in order to submit a report.  On his arrival, however, he was informed that the Governor was away on a short pleasure trip and was expected to return in a fortnight.  After leaving a message with Rexi's trusted aide, Birgergu returned home not in the least bit ruffled by the distant smoke and the glow of the fire on the horizon; subsequently, he entered his study in order to manage some pertinent neglected matters. First, removing a specific document from his locked cabinet, he placed it under the lamplight and perused it carefully searching for key correlations (crucial parallels, any links) or discrepancies between its account of facts and the detailed report of the Magistrate’s.

All was in accord, save for one: the glowing description of the stranger's horse remarkably resembled Yakove's account of Fradel Rurik Korvald's mount.

 It could very well be a coincidence. This gave Birgergu no concern as, shrugging his shoulders slightly; he put the reports aside and picked up another document from the pile for examination. Despite his outward calm, however, he was inwardly fuming over the failure of the bandit's attack on Fradel, which now complicated matters greatly.  He frowned, thinking of the berating he would get from the hot-tempered Governor, and then his thoughts reverted to Fradel's letter.  Dropping everything, he rang for his trusted steward and verbally relayed his wishes to him.

That night a cloaked figure quietly stole through the darkened alleyways to rendezvous with another whom, scaling the city wall with a cat's agility, vaulted onto a waiting horse and galloped into the hills.

At dawn the next day Birgergu's trusted aide handed him a packet.  After examining the contents in his study, Birgergu donned (gave) a wry smile and cast both the letter and its wrapping into the fire.  A short time later the aide returned with an urgent message from the Governor and Birgergu made haste to respond to the summons.

 

                                                                                  ~

 

"I don't want to know anything about it!" the Governor Rexi raged at Birgergu with icy finality.  "Just get it done!"

"It has already been taken care of, Your Excellency." Birgergu assured him.

"Then why do you bother me with this?"  Rexi shoved (thrust) the report in Birgergu's face. 

"I have no time for such trifles.  You are dismissed."  Before the Commissioner of Justice could even respond Rexi turned his back on him and stormed out of the anteroom.

 "I'm surrounded by incompetents.” His voice trailed off as he began to muse: 

How can I ever gain favor with His Excellency (Eunuch) Egil Viggoaries when a simple matter like this cannot even be resolved.  That idiot Birgergu assured me of Fradel Rurik Korvald's demise; that he would disappear without a trace.  He's as incompetent as that doltish brother-in-law of his.  They've both managed to botch things up oh, so perfectly!  I should have taken the matter into my own hands from the outset, instead of relying on that idiot.

His steps had led him into his private chambers.  Entering in a huff, he sank his heavy frame down on the couch.  Seeing his foul mood, the servants all kept their distance, all but hiding in the corners.

03- PROVINCIAL GOVERNOR REXI

Seething in anger, Rexi reflected on the origins of the Eunuch's orders, the ongoing struggle between Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and the Minister of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries, as each vied (contended) for significant clout (portion of power) at Imperial Court.  Viggoaries's latest attempt to undermine Lamont's inroads with the emperor’s favorite concubine, Lady Sejon, had led to the confidential word sent to him to oversee the Eunuch's interest in the matter of the Lady's favorite poet, Fradel Rurik Korvald.

 Rexi still remembered his delight at accepting the task and his assurances of prompt, favorable results.  Angrily he stamped his foot to purge his mind of the ugly, stubborn trepidation (foreboding) of the possibility of dud (failure), but the persistent, gnawing doubt and the consequences of a repetition of Birgergu's inability (incompetence) to set right what, by now, had gone so terribly wrong, so terrified him that all the blood drained from his face.  A cold shiver ran down Rexi’s spine, as his mind viciously fixed on the notorious reputation of Egil Viggories’s brutish intolerance of the least flop (failure). Springing to his feet, his brows stubbornly knit together, he paced the floor in agitation.

"What is it, darling?" the bewitching beauty but half his age mewed.  Her eyes still puffed from sleep; she had parted the bed curtains alluringly.  Though it was nearly noon, she yawned and stretched, settling back into sleep.

How beautiful she is!  This enchanting siren was a recent acquisition from his previous excursion.  Recalling the pleasures of last night, a smile grew on Rexi's lips, and the color returned hotly to his cheeks.  Going over, he gently sat at the edge of the bed.  Her sweet perfume assailed his nose, intoxicating his senses and enticing him to fondle her cheek once more.

"Oh, let me sleep!" she purred.  "I'm tired.  You wouldn't let me nap at all last night."

Grinning mischievously, he followed her under the covers as all his previous concerns and fury dissipated in her scent.

                                                                                       ~

At cockcrow that morning, as Birgergu received Fradel's letter, Magistrate Yakove and a few of his close associates had raised parting toasts to the scholar and had escorted him to the city gates.  Despite his protests, Fradel had been constrained to accept the protection of a squad of fifteen stout, well-armed bodyguards under the leadership of a lieutenant Zujor.  They were to deliver Fradel safely to the borders of the province.

With the walls of the great city long since lost in the distance, the party of seventeen traveled the lugubrious road at a canter for half a day, each cocooned in their thoughts.

 The uninspiring, desolate ground they traversed was but occasionally dotted with naked hillocks and the monotony left them riding in the miasma of a dream.

Fradel's reverie meandered to thoughts of his blood brother, Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir, and a troubled expression crossed his face.  To purge his heart of this longing and regret, he turned his gaze to the limitless sky, not heeding the refreshing wind that caressed his exposed neck.  He watched with misty eyes the white, billowing clouds as they converged, then parted, and then sailed (wisped) away across the sky.  When he lowered his gaze and looked ahead, he saw a small, scrub-covered knoll in their path, a precursor of a number of undulating, forested hills that skirted a great mountain whose peak seemed to scratch the clouds.

I don't remember ever having crossed such a mountain. Fradel reflected, surveying these strange surroundings.  Yet, if it was the guard's aim to injure me, they could have done it long ago.  Opportunities had abounded on that desolate path, so devoid of habitations or inns.

 He was about to query the stone-faced horseman alongside him regarding this choice of route when, quite precipitously, Fiery Comet halted and refused to advance any further.

Misconstruing this delay as Fradel's intent, Zujor left his scout and approached to reassure the scholar.

 "The reconnaissance bodes well.  The forest extending beyond these hills is clear of any danger.  If you desire, sir, we could take a short sojourn here and lunch in the shade of those trees."

Before Fradel could respond Fiery Comet, in another surprise move, suddenly bolted off on a course tangential to their line of advance (intended direction).

Zujor shouted Fradel to stop as he and the rest of the guards simultaneously fell into a hot pursuit.  That same instant a shrill whistle was heard from behind the woodland hill as a large body of armed brigands poured onto the road, brandishing their swords, charging by with the force of an avalanche out to bury its prey.

 Only the scout stood on his ground, a look of mute surprise froze on his face as his head hit the earth.  Alarmed, Zujor ordered two of his ablest men to forge ahead after the swiftly disappearing Fradel as he and the other dozen wheeled their horses about to bar the road at a defile between two hillocks.

"And just where do you think you're going, knave?" Zujor bellowed at the top of his voice.  So fierce was the lieutenant's cry that the point rider's horse stumbled, toppling its rider to the ground.

"Clear the way if you wish to live!" boomed the voice of the new Bandit Chief, as he whipped his horse to the fore.

 "Our business is not with you.  We only want revenge on the cursed scholar Fradel."

  As he brandished his sword his men let up a mighty yell to spur their murderous charge.

"You'll have to go through me and Hell first!"  Gritting his teeth the brave Zujor glowered at the new Bandit Chief as he steadied his horse, and his squad lowered their lances to meet the charge.

 The fierce fighting and bloodletting that ensued lasted several hours. Swords flailed the air and spears thrust out like pumps as the horses' hooves churned up the turf.  Though lieutenant Zujor and his men were all competent fighters, their adversaries, the bandits, were impregnable (in numbers) and unsurpassed in their cunning and maneuvers.

 When Zujor's strength ebbed, he was mercilessly cut down, sliced clear through from shoulder to waist and the four remaining guards dispersed in panic in all directions.

A small force was allocated to hunt them down while the main body of bandits, responding in one voice to their Chief's command, forged ahead after Fradel.

Riding their superb beasts on the wind, they soon overtook the two guards.  As a few stayed behind to engage the soldiers, the rest chewed on the dust trail Fradel had left behind.  The distance between Fradel and his pursuers widened further with every minute.  Fiery Comet, unequaled in agility and speed, pushed on until, diving into the wall of the forest, they were both lost to human sight.

For countless hours the relentless bandits scoured the dense forest, an evil place with hidden dangers of its own where ancient trees dramatically screened out the sun or altogether, turning day into night, blotting out the sky.  A lookout, climbing to the top of the tallest tree, ardently surveyed the area beyond the forest with his eagle eyes until finally, he spotted a lone, snaking trail of dust in the southeast that disappeared into a crevice between two hills.

 Racing towards it, they traversed a great distance until the strengths of both men and beast were spent beyond their endurance.  It was as though Fradel had been swallowed up by the earth or had vanished into thin air.  With the valley veiled in the shadows of twilight they set up camp, not daring to concede defeat and resolved to continue on with their search at the first break of day.

 

(END OF SECTION 14)

 

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