LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 3

 

Dwengzur could not veil his mounting irritation since he had expected to, long before this, ferret out the answers he sought and, begone from this cursed den of loathed humans. He swigged (quaffed) some more wine then, with forced congeniality, asked aloud. "Now, perhaps, you will oblige me with an answer to a rather trivial concern of mine." "You were, of course, aware of Zonar’s mission in your country?"  He paused to receive Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) simple nod, before continuing.

Truth be told, Nevetsecnuac had only a vague and unsubstantiated notion, which he had formulated, from Zonar's parting words: “Even if I fail, I will not fail.”

"Then how is it possible that your friendship could take root? I fail to understand your heart's generosity. It does not support…" Dwengzur paused then shook his head. "After all, Zonar sought to beget (effect) the utter ruin (destruction) of Wenjenkun." 

Nevetsecnuac's encapsulated vague reaction however, robbed Dwengzur, still, of any resolution.

01- FRADED (NEVETSECNUAC ) FACING DWNGZUR'S SCRUTINY

 “On the brink of death his thoughts were of you.” Dwengzur persisted with his measured natter (tone). “You alone made a singular difference to him. Why? How did you manage to alter his views, considering the deep-seated lifelong contempt he felt for your Country and all its citizens? Even more incredible, I say, since the General bore a sustained grudge against Wenjenkun, Zakhertan Yozdek and the former Monarch, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.  He took to heart the atrocities; the rampant genocide committed against the hapless citizens of Korion."  The Immortal shook his head grimly and looked away, as if lost for words. "Granted," after a spell, he conceded thoughtfully, " at the time Field Marshall Zakhertan Yozdek had acted on his own initiative, not on the orders of his Monarch, to gratify a personal vendetta, he bore against Korion's Sovereign. Still, that does not excuse the incompetency of Wenjenkun's past ruler. He bears some of the responsibility for his lack of action and, he should be, justly held accountable by History." 

The lack of reaction from Fradel Rurik Korvald was, again, unexpected and bit infuriating. Despite his exasperation this unique individual was beginning to interest him. Then suddenly Dwengzur caught the inkling of a dilemma in Fradel's thoughts.

“What was that; you regret leaving behind the brush…. A writing implements?” but the Immortal could not be certain of the specifics. Encouraged, yet still baffled, Dwengzur pushed to get results.

Nevetsecnuac, suspecting Dwengzur's underhanded motive, was determined to gage (measure, gauge) the limits of the Immortal's patience and deficiencies (shortcomings, limitations). Furthermore, he strongly resented Dwengzur's arrogant, supercilious, deceitful manner but, more specifically, Nevetsecnuac despised him for killing a fine, loyal warrior like Zonar. Despite all the differences, Nevetsecnuac felt that Zonar and he had much in common. Set upon the same course, an unlikely alliance and a friendship of sorts had developed after their number of encounters. Now, as warrior soulmates, Nevetsecnuac felt obligated to at least, extract measure of satisfaction from Dwengzur, he owed Zonar that much.

Fixing his bold gaze on Dwengzur, Nevetsecnuac now framed his thoughts boldly, sarcastically, “Since your scorn for mankind, sir, is all too evident, why, then, did you betray your own kinsman to appease the villain Zakhertan Yozdek and his unworthy lot?”

Dwengzur stirred as he caught the thought-projection. “How you flatter yourselves! What unworthy creatures you all are, totally beneath my contempt!”  He scoffed inwardly.

“As if the sun rises and sets, the moon, stars, and galaxies all turn in the Heavens solely for the benefit of your puny race! Why should I dispense any effort, spend any emotion at all for your kind? Hah! Do you really believe that I care one way or another whether Zakhertan Yozdek or you, Fradel Rurik Korvald, live or die? Do you think I care whether your inconsequential nation suffers or perishes in the forthcoming wars?”

02- DWENGZUR

But checking his temper, Dwengzur responded coolly (calmly) and sternly, instead. "But you were already given your answer in the foothills, although in a most abstract form, when you’ve eaves-dropped on Commander Zhadol and Lieutenant Yennic at Cyprecox Pass." 

Dwengzur grimaced wryly, noting Fradel Rurik Korvald’s purposeful flinch, Nevetsecnuac having allowed him to discern just that bit.

"Fact is, it is unconscionable and quite irresponsible for us to allow ourselves to intercede in, the natural progression of civilization of any undeveloped species. The least knowledge we possess, if it were to be prematurely unleashed on your primitive culture, could foster dire consequences and detrimental disruptions. Especially when combined with your race's warmongering ways. Zonar presented such a threat to your race and so it was for the good of humankind that he was terminated; you should be on your knees and thanking me for this.”

Instantly Dwengzur picked up Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) next deliberately unspoken query and baffled (perplexed), he shook his head. “You are such a curious lot; even when death is staring you in the face or your life hangs in the balance, you still stubbornly, crave to learn about matters that should not concern you.”

After few minutes of deliberation however, Dwengzur nodded in assent. "All right, so you wish to know more about Zonar’s origin; frankly, I see no reason this should be kept confidential,” but withheld the words, “from one who’s fated to die soon."  Dwengzur had hoped of course, to soften or sway Fradel, with an intriguing, amorous anecdote; after all, didn’t all mortals like a relevant (appropriate) love story, especially one based on facts?

“Hundred years ago, at a typical Divination Ceremony where, each new generation at the age of ten (earth years) was evaluated, His Eminence Olavingemar the Most Supreme Elder of Karn Race, had read the ominous prediction that, the child Tekubzan was unfortunately, the carrier of a seed that would be the harbinger of the Race of Karn’s utter obliteration.”

03- DIVINATION CEREMONY (ELDERS OF KARN)

 To prevent this from ever happening, by a majority vote, she was in a fortnight, condemned to death. She was to be, like vermin, promptly exterminated. His Eminence Olavigemar, who also happed to be her father, however, privately re-consulted the Heavens and given an option, an alternative to the execution, she was instead, doomed to a much crueler fate: being imprisoned for life, behind an impenetrable, a one peace of solid rock at the farthest point and at the deepest recesses of the Cave. There she was destined to live, the rest of her long life, in solitary confinement and in pitch darkness, behind the solid rock wall that looked to be a natural part of the cave. Thickness of it muted all sound. At least, her father had though, she would be alive!  Zandar and Tekubzan however, were destined to meet.”

“Good, I have his full interest now.”  Dwengzur took another sip of wine first, then in leisurely manner recounted (narrated) how Zonar Kuntzu’s father, Chando, also from the race of Karn, later known as Zandar Kuntzu, at the earth years of 20, possessing a curious, explorative nature, had once secretly ventured into the forbidden depths of the gigantic cavern;  where which, due to prior, once in a millennia seismic event, a fissure had occurred on the solid wall that had for (ten) decades imprisoned  behind it, a fair maiden, most enchanting creature born to race of Karn. 

“It so happened that the monstrous seismic event this time had created a crack in that solid rock wall. Chando (Zandar Kuntzu), chancing on this, had drawn near to examine it further. Now because he had an unusual and super-human hearing, he had detected the slight sound behind it. His curiosity aroused, he therefore secretly from then on, stole to the sight and began to forcefully enlarge the crack, to discover whatever, whoever it was, behind it. When the opening was large enough for him to peer in, he held up the light to it, and to his great surprise, discovered a beautiful damsel imprisoned beyond it. The immortal girl, Tekubzan, had of course, aged slowly and was now in earth years, in her mid-twenties.” 

“Chando worked diligently for months till eventually he could get through the opening to the other side. The beautiful creature in tattered clothing was frightened at first and besides, she had forgotten how to interact (relate) or more specifically, express herself by way of vernacular. But no words were necessary as he pitied her, and same time, was drawn to her. From then on, whenever he could, he stole away and visited her. They for a time used a made-up-sign-language for communication. Gradually, having gained her confidence, the two grew quite close. She recouped (recovered) her vernacular ability by this time and was able to tell him, her name (Tekubzan), and why she had been so unjustly, by the Elders of Karn, imprisoned all this time.”

04- TEKUBZAN AND CHANDO (ZONAR'S PARENTS)

“They spend two more blissful (delightful) months together and eventually fell deeply in love. His innate nature (character)being a rebel, Chando would not shy away from most taboos; but he was nevertheless reluctant to be too intimate with her, knowing that if he did, in consequence he might impregnate her. When the desire became too great to resist, thinking he had taken apt precautions, the two shared a most heavenly and cherished time together. Afterwards, he had given her his solemn word that he would return very soon and then, reluctantly left her.”

05- TEKUBZAN AND CHANDO

“But unforeseen circumstances prevented him for an exceptionally long time from re-visiting Tekubzan. When he finally could get away, he rushed to the forbidden place to present her the precious gifts and ask her to be his mate forever. He had decided also to rescue her from her prison and after the two had made good their escape from the mountain, they would live happily and in secret, forever in the mortal realm, preferably, in the most remote corner of the world. Unfortunately, what greeted him was a hart-wrenching tragedy.”

“Tekubzan was no where to be seen. Then he saw the signs of an intrusion and the evidence of grand scale devastation which revealed that there had been a spectacular battle, a dire struggle there, obviously, between Tekubzan and the evil perpetrator. In the end she had perished in the fire, as her charred remains had been found there in a heap. The offender, after the evil deed, had unfortunately clear gotten away, as there had been no residue or remains of him, left behind.”

06- THE CULPRIT

“She had successfully hidden her newborn twins (boy and girl) well before the fight however and even had managed to transfer great deal of her powers to the babies, whom she had named Zonar and Arnora (girl twin), for no harm had come to the infants. Unfortunately, this must have left her vulnerable, and far less able to thwart (offset, counter) the perpetrator’s assaults. You can well imagine Chando’s frustration, his ire (rage, fury), self-blame, then ultimately, his inconsolable grief, to have arrived there too late and well after it had been all over. Intrepid Tekubzan, anticipating his return had nevertheless managed to leave a (telepathic) message to him, therefore, drying up his tears and, following her instructions, he discovered the unharmed, hidden twins, his son, Zonar and daughter Arnora. And that’s how Zonar and Arnora had come into the world. For a long time, Chando stared at these little, precious beings who were his son and daughter! The babies, not identical twins, Zonar had his mother’s blazing red hair, while Arnora had Chando’s white blond hair; nevertheless, Zonar had his (Chando’s) eyes, but fortunately, the girl had his beloved’s nose and chin.” Chando could not take his eyes off his precious, poor, orphaned infants, which had waited for him, only heaven knows how long. They had lived because she had, after severing the umbilical cords, transferred major part of her life force to them. And then used still more of her power to conceal them. Chando shedding more tears, lovingly cradled his infant boy and girl in his arms and rocked them. After a long spell, eventually, reason took hold. He went over to the pile of ashes (which were her remains) and reverently bowed to his beloved and then remaining kneeling, said his prayers; to give her at least, some solace in afterlife. Chando, then desisting the new surging flood of tears, in resolute tone articulated (voiced) his solemn vow to take exceptionally diligent care of the twins.”

07- CHANDO MAKES SOLEMN WOW TO TEKUBZAN'S SPIRIT

“Tekubzan had purposely not disclosed the culprit’s identity that had attacked her and ultimately taken her life, for either she did not know the assailant or, that he was far too powerful; and she knowing Zandar would seek revenge and fearing for his safety, sought to protect him.”

“Zandar, remaining on his knees, however, in a resounding voice next had avowed: He would search Heaven and Earth to one day redress this grave injustice and duly avenge her.”

“Afterwards, for she’d also warned him that the evil perpetrator had been bent on destroying him and their offsprings, therefore, not to linger on and without delay fly to safety- Chando (Zandar Kuntzu), though reluctantly, had absconded the mountain along with Zonar and Arnora and permanently disappeared somewhere in the vast mortal world of Humans.”

 

(END OF SECTION 3)

 

                                                                                         ~  

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 26

Canute Yonn swallowed heard, then fighting the blinding, throbbing pain in her head, he continued to relate (reveal) his mother’s tragic story to the indifferent (unsympathetic) ears in court. “Tresor and his wife Suen were a kindly folk; and at the beginning they took great pains with herbal tonics and diligent care, to save my mother’s life. After a partial recovery, however, she was again driven out into the cold; this time the culprit was poverty, and the humble farmer and his wife had to harden their heart to do this.  Their reasons being valid, I carry no ill will towards them."

“How very magnanimous of you," Mouro ejected sarcastically and sneered.

Disregarding him, Canute Yonn elucidated (explained) why he’d so readily forgiven them: "Their deprived circumstances were onerous enough, but that year’s incessant rain had spoiled most yields (crops) and created scarcity. This prohibited any acts of charity to kin, much less a stranger.  Famine had already claimed two of their children, one at the age of three, the other barely a year old. My mother, Helga, was crippled by Senson's countless blows to her legs and could not work the fields or do any other strenuous work; she was a liability and a hindrance to them.”

01-FARMER TRESOR

“Subsequently, with scant clothing and food, her baby a millstone in her belly, my poor mother drifted from place to place, scavenging, begging for alms, to survive.  All the while trying not to hate the innocent child, me, in her womb. I’m telling it as is, when she had later unburdened her heart to me. She had endured these unspeakable hardships, living for the day of her vengeance."

"See, trouble begets trouble.” Micen stroking his beard, mused heartlessly. “They should have made certain of the serving maid Helga’s death before abandoning her in the ditch; if they had, all this trouble now could have been averted."

"I came into this world in a house of ill-repute, where we stayed until the day of my mother's passing." Canute Yonn, oblivious, continued hoarsely.  "I grew up hearing her bitter, tragic sobs every night, for she had never grown accustomed to selling her body."  He gazed dully at the floor to hide his eyes, brimming with tears.  The rekindled pain of those times again tormented his mind, wrenching his soul.

                                                                                       ~

"Please don't cry, Mama!"  His heart breaking, Canute buried his face in the pillow to drown out his sobs.  What was it that ailed her so?  Who was Senson, this name she had so often, like now, cursed out loud in her sleep?  He was seven years old.  He felt quite grown up and he did the chores like grownups, but everyone still treated him like a child.  I'm old enough to understand, why won't she tell me?

He tossed his covers aside and, sitting up, fixed his gaze on the locked door that separated him from his mother.  The room, no bigger than a closet, in fact it had once been used as storage, had a tiny window so high up that it let through only a thin sliver of moonlight.  The wind was howling outside but the dancing shadows in the room did not scare him.

 I wish I could comfort her; he rubbed his eyes sleepily; I know she needs me.

 Hanging his head low he heaved a deep, stealthy sigh wishing he could forget that another, a stranger, who was sleeping snugly beside his mother.  As he tried to purge his heart of the gripping loneliness, troublesome thoughts and haunting questions again crowded his brain.  Why does Mama claim we have no family?  What about my father? 

Canute knew that his father was not dead, for once in slip of the tongue, she had referred to him in the present tense.  But why weren't they with him?  Wouldn't he be angry if he came here and found out she had slept with all these men?

He didn't play in the street anymore, for the other kids would tease him and call him and his mother all sorts of unmentionable names.  Like sharp slivers each name-calling stabbed at his heart.  Many a time he had retaliated with fierceness and pent-up anger, beating and dispersing all those who had ganged up on him.  Unfortunately, swift repercussions, beatings and berating soon followed from his elders in the house.  He was in a no-win situation.  Things will never change; why should I fight back (riposte)?  Still, a faint smile brushed his lips when he recalled the proper whipping, he had given to that big bully Yenn Katog, who was always inciting the other kids against him. It served him right!  And, it had more than made up for the thrashing he got later. 

He now stuck out his chest in self-congratulation.

Canute’s mind reverting back to his father, he reclined and closed his eyes in hopeful dreams, imagining that one day his noble, warrior father, their savior, would appear at their door, looking tall and distinguished, kindly and strong, to claim them.

02- CANUTE YONN'S IMAGINED FATHER

His heroic father would rescue them both from that ugly, intolerable existence.  For, to the marrow of his bones Canute detested this place he was forced to call home.  It broke his heart to see his mother ceaselessly tormented, day after day, by this uncaring, insensitive lot.

 Restless, he shifted his position.  His eyes fell on the discarded old plantation fan Tike had given to his mother.  He picked it up and examined it in the scant light, noting particularly the holes.  Absentmindedly he began gnawing at its edge.

 A few doors down he could hear that old tyrant of a house mother, Tike, scolding one of the girls.  In anger he threw the fan aside.  Oh, how he hated that callous old shrew who intimidated everyone, young and old!

He grimaced, thinking how when he was younger still, his mother had kept him in line with the threat that Tike ate disobedient, disrespectful children for supper and that was why she had gotten so fat.

Unsought, he saw before his mind's eye those venomous, piercing beads of eyes, encompassed by a gelatinous face which split into a threatening snarl to expose rows of rotted teeth.  "I'll get you yet, you piece of shit!" Tike was shaking a fat, threatening finger at him.  "Your days are numbered; wait and see!"  He retorted, clawing the air savagely to tear at her reverberating double chin that always seemed to drip perspiration.

03- CANUET FACES TIKE

 Tike thrived on tormenting people, always caning, hitting, beating and cursing everyone.  Never satisfied, never smiling, except at the guests, and then her smile was more hideous than her frowns and haunted his nightmares frequently.  She flogged him incessantly, not sparing the rod even at the slightest provocation.  Worse still, he resented being forced to behave, to be made to quietly submit to her abuse. His mother Helga was made to suffer the worst of it, for every one of his defiant acts.

He could hardly comprehend the extent of the fear Tike evoked in his mother's heart when Tike threatened to throw them out on their own.  In fact, had his mother Helga not been the prettiest and one of the key attractions of Tike's establishment, the street would have been their home a long, long time ago.

Oh, how I hate her!  I swear I'll kill her some day! he shook his clenched fist in the air.

The weeping and cursing finally muted after the slamming of several doors.  It was the same scenario being played out every night.

The following day Canute received an additional reason for despising Tike.  Canute's mother Helga had been sick for the last two or three days now, vomiting and feeling dizzy.  He was really concerned about her so, after the guest had gone, finding the door unlocked, he'd quietly snuck into her room and attempted to give solace to her.  She looked paler than usual.  When the steps of the old tyrant were heard approaching the door he heeded his mother's directive and made himself scarce.  Not wandering too far, he eavesdropped.

"Doctors cost money", he heard the shrew say.  "Besides, keeping it is out of the question."  A few other words he could not quite make out.  Then he observed Tike taking a small bottle from her pocket and handing it to his mother.  "There, I don't want you to think about it any longer.  I was good enough to get you this.  Never mind where I got it, just drink it.  He assured me it would get rid of the unwanted pest (nuisances).  You don't think this is the first time I've had to do this, do you?"

Canute watched with some trepidation hoping against hope that it was medicine to cure his mother’s ailment, as Helga with some reluctance, a grim, ghostly expression on her pale face, raised the foul-looking potion to her trembling lips.

"Don't drink it, Mamma!  It may be poison!" His fears triumphing (prevailing) over hope, he sprang from hiding place to shout his warning.

"The idea!” Tike turned her venomous eyes on Canute, panting with rage, hands brought menacingly to her hips.

 "You ungrateful brat, poisoning her, is that what you think I'm doing?  You, you a slandering scoundrel, you!  Haven't I warned you never to come here this early in the morning?  How long has he been there?"  She turned to Helga, worried that he may have inconvenienced last night's guest.  She had another good reason to be fearful, since abortion was illegal in Wenjenkun.  She needed to ascertain that Canute had not heard or understood enough to incriminate her.

"I'll tell-on you!" Canute warned, having sensed her fear.  "I'll have you locked up!" he shouted defiantly, not really knowing what he was threatening her with.

"You, wrenched viper in my bosom; I'll teach you to threaten me, you piece of shit!" shaking her finger at Canute Tike began to viciously berate and curse him as she pounced on Canute.

But Canute was too agile and too swift to be caught, not one with her bulk.

Huffing and puffing as enraged Tike chased him down the hall, her shouts to the others to grab him created such a pandemonium that the whole house was turned upside down.

In the end Canute had successfully slipped through those innumerable, vicious, grasping hands and hid. 

By dusk, when eventually the mayhem settled down and everyone returned to their routine tasks, exercising due caution, Canute Yonn stealthily emerged from his hiding place.

By providence spotting the old shrew, he, hugging the walls, followed Tike all the way back to his mother's room.

Once more Canute hid and, from this vintage point, watched and waited with his heart pounding, for Tike to have her say and depart. Tike’s face was beet-red from all that exertion as she huffed and puffed and animatedly gesticulating, flailed (flapped, waved)) those fleshy arms of hers.

What has she got so much to squawk (crow) about?

Curiosity, getting better of him Canute pressed his ear to the door and eavesdropped. 

On and on, with mounting rage and spurting poison, Tike cursed and scolded Helga, as she unmercifully, vented her cruel diatribes on the hapless, ailing (sick) young woman.

 "I told you to get rid of that brat long ago.  He'll never amount to anything, mark my words.  He's nothing but trouble.  You know he's no good, but then you're no better!  Why do you encourage him to come up here?  Are you stupid or something? Mother’s affection, baloney!  All useless emotions!  You've no business feeling love, not for a bastard, not for anyone!  Now you listen!  I'm just about at the end of my patience with you.  I'll only tell you this once more.  Harden your heart to him or you'll be made to suffer.  Then you'll be sorry.  Get rid of him now, I say, for he'll turn on you too one day.  Just wait.  Don't you know the innate nature of all men by now?"

Tike paced the floor to and for in an unusual quiet, as she mentally formulated (prepared) her next set of arguments and rested her vocals.

The door he was concealed behind, (whom patrons sometimes used) was still unlocked.  He pried it on ajar and peered in to see what was happening.  To his dismay, he saw the emptied bottle in Tike's hand as she toyed with it before returning it to her pocket. Tike was careful that way; making sure to retrieve any would be incriminating items (objects) and destroying it later.

 Suddenly, in a much calmer mood Tike, going over sat by Helga’s bed and, her enormous paws cupping Helga’s delicate hand, she began persuading the ailing woman, to agree to something.  Typically, the shrew was trying first, a kinder, gentler approach but Canute knew all too well that, if this did not produce the desired result, she would in (but a few minutes) a flash reverts to her vicious nature.

"Why don't you let me get rid of the pest…? Arr, I mean the boy, for you as well?  You don't have to do anything.  I'll handle the transaction for you.  Why must you be so stubborn? I have your best interest at heart. Why won't you take my advice?  Can't you see that in the long run it would be better for him, too? He’ll grow up in a normal home.  I saw mistress Wang just the other day.  They're looking for another bond servant; trouble is they don't want to pay for a fully grown one. Now, don’t be so quick to turn this down; wait till you hear the rest of it. “

“When she told me of their wish to purchase a boy close to their Therran's age, to keep him company, be his study- buddy and, for to keep their son out of trouble; I'd at once, being so selfless (altruistic), suggested Canute.  She said she'd consider it.  I had hoped that they would have forgotten about that regrettable incident between the two boys.  But listen, if you agree I'll do my best to persuade them to take Canute off your hands; sold for a pretty price, I’ll even get a smaller commission, just to help you out. Besides, couldn't you use another new dress or two?  You really ought to be thanking me for finding him a good home.  You know that if he grows up here, he'll turn on you, sooner or later.  He'll hate your guts for what you're doing.  He'll despise you to the core for ruining his life.  Also, you know as well as I do, that no respectable, good girl will ever marry the illegitimate (illicit) son of a whore.  So why don't you heed my sound advice and get rid of him now, while there's still a chance, while there's still time."

Canute Yonn’s fury rising to the boiling point, he felt he would just explode.  He shook violently, uncontrollably.  He'd just about had his belly full of resentment against that old bat.  Grinding his teeth, he was about to dash out to gouge her eyes out… When,

"I caught you, you little worm!"  A strong hand grasped the back of his neck and lifted him up high.  "So, this is where you've been hiding all this time."

"Let go of me!  Let me go, you cursed dog!"  In vain Canute, eyes agleam with anger, tried to kick and claw his captor, the big, strong bully called Ron, Tike's nephew who (periodically) helped her with the running of the business.

The relentless verbal and physical abuse that both Tike and Ron rained on Canute made his mother livid with fear, worsening her wretched condition still more.  Her tragic pleas for them to stop hitting her boy fell on deaf ears until; finally, she uttered the words Tike most wanted to hear.  Canute was dragged outside, still kicking and screaming, bouncing down the steps until he was violently thrown onto the dirt of the cellar floor.

"I'll teach you to respect your elders." Ron ranted like a mad bull.  "So, I'm a cursed dog, am I, you, ungrateful turd."

He grasped the heavy stick which rested by the stairs.  "You've had this coming to you for a long time.  Take this, and this!"  He pounded solidly and savagely on Canute's tender young flesh.  "Plead for mercy, you wretch, or I swear I'll kill you!"

Despite the excruciating pain, Canute held fast, bit his lip to stop from crying out until he passed out. When he came to the musty smell of dust had assailed his nostrils and dirt coated his tongue.  His battered head was throbbing fiercely.  His fingers tentatively touched the area where the pain was most intense, at the hairline.  Just then he felt a sharp, cutting pain in his ankle and kicked his leg, scaring away the timid rodent that had wanted a taste of his flesh.  His torn shirt and pants had already glued themselves to his wounds.  Though every inch of his body was seared with pain he lifted himself with determination and persistence to his feet. Muffling his groans he groped his way in that semi-darkness, his path barely illuminated with a sliver of light streaming from the small window way up there; with determination, he weaved his way slowly towards the door.  As he had expected, the door had been barred shut from the outside.  His revulsion growing stronger by the minute, he drummed up his last ounce of strength and savagely pounded his fists against the wood.

"Let me out!  Let me out!  I'll get you for this, you fiendish bastards!"

 His strength was ebbing.  "I'll show you.  You can't keep me here for long…I’ll kill you all, you, you…. beasts!”

Curses on his lips reduced to barely audible whimper, his breath now coming in gasps, Canute (limply) collapsed to the ground.  He remained there motionless for an undetermined time until he'd recovered some of his strength.  The urgency of his mother's condition gave him the will, the (fuel) ability to forsake his pain.

05- CANUTE IN CELLAR

Rising to his feet, he first determined the direction he wished to go then slowly felt his way to that far corner.  He was relieved to find things undisturbed and so, with some difficulty, pushed the empty, moldy cart to the side.  This was not the only time he had been cudgeled or flogged then imprisoned in the cellar but, the last time, he had, through his resourcefulness, discovered this exit, this burrow through the wall and, enlarging it a little, had crawled outside, stolen a steamed bun from the kitchen, then returned to his prison without being seen.  He had been smart enough to have concealed the opening of this escape route and had confided its existence only to his mother, in order to ease her anxiety.

                                                                                   ~

(END OF SECTION 26)