11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 22

   

Lady Sejon had of course been utterly delighted to learn of Magnian’s elevation in status. She was about to self-congratulate herself for having also narrowly escaped the dangerous predicament that had befallen Enqui Rimeng and prince Herleif, when her maidservant Areana had just then quite perturbed, burst into the room to present her Ladyship with a most curious, sealed letter marked urgent, specifically addressed to Her Ladyship Sejon, which someone had left without being seen, on the gemstone inlaid, pink commode at the end of the foyer (hallway).

01- D- THE LETTER AND AREANA

With inexplicable fear gripping her heart, Lady Sejon hastily broke open the seal and began reading the contents of the letter. Her brows knit when she read the incriminating lines, enunciating her actual part in the conspiracy to discredit prince Herleif, the precise details of planting of the penknife in the scroll, as well, her complicity (involvement) in the more grievous murder plot of the Royal Tutor Worren Youkup, after he had threatened to confess everything to Sovereign. The specific timing of the letter's delivery, and the stark, graphic minutiae (finer points) in the letter sent her heart palpitating wildly. Halfway through reading it, Lady Sejon’s face had turned completely ashen as she was shocked to the core; her head began to swim, her mouth fell agape, and the threatening letter simply dropped to the floor.   

Areana instantly scooped up the letter and spontaneously handed it back to Her Ladyship's trembling hand; she then with a concerned, puzzled look, enquired, "Is everything all right, Milady?” for never had she seen Sejon losing her composure like this.    

 Sejon meanwhile, had collapsed into the nearest seat until; getting a grip on her senses (herself) once more; she summarily dismissed all the attendants, save for Areana, from the room. She questioned her repeatedly, to learn how she had come by the letter. Had she noticed anything unusual, anything at all? Poor girl was mortified (petrified). She really had not noted anything strange or seen anyone suspicious. She was reduced to tears being so heatedly and wrathfully drilled. The other attendants had one time or other had faced her Ladyship’s terrible, fiery temper and suffered her subsequent wrath; therefore, despite their innate concerns for the much-beloved Areana, they dared not poke their heads into the room, without being summoned first. Better to stay away, till her Ladyship’s temper had cooled.    

In the end Sejon, totally frustrated, had irately dismissed Areana.

02  HER LADYSHIP SEJON C

Alone in the room, Sejon forced herself to re-read the letter, this time to the (bitter) end; she was surprised how such a courteous writing could carry that amount of, veiled and copious, malevolent bullying (intimidation, pressure). As Sejon mulled over the cited secrets in the letter that were, previously known only to herself and Nijel, gradually suspicion reared its ugly head and anger supplanted it. When she reached the reference to Nijel Pinng being detained by their competent men and therefore, should not be searched for, this time Sejon shook her head in disbelief. “This can't be!” For only moments before she had sent Nijel into her adjoining private bedroom on an errand. There being no other passage from there except through this very anteroom, by rights, Nijel should still be in there.

She bolted to her feet and hastened to the bedroom to in fury, confront (question) her half-sister and demand an explanation. Upon entering the room her eyes swiftly, twice swept the whole perimeter for any sign of Nijel, before her worst fears were realized; clearly, her half-sister, her personal aid Nijel was absent from the room. The toiletries she had sent Nijel to put back in their proper place were chaotically strewn on the carpet and both her vanity and chair were overturned. Suddenly Sejon’s attention was drawn to the tall curtains which the gentle breeze had just then stirred, letting in the golden rays of the hot midday sun. The window had been closed when Sejon had left the room. Then like fleeting hope itself the streaming spurt of light was extinguished as the fabric fell back into place. Ignoring the throbbing pain (pressure) that had just then manifested at both of her temples and was quickly developing into a terrible headache, Sejon with iron will, pushed all those worrisome thoughts aside and called out to Nijel. She same time began searching for her in earnest: she swiftly pulled aside tall curtains that could conceal a person or persons, searched behind tall screens, looked under the bed, then proceeded to look inside, around, under and behind the tall closets and big chests. She searched behind the colossal bed’s headboard, under the heavy quilts. Still nothing, nothing, nothing! All the while she had told herself that this was nothing more than an elaborate hoax… one of Nijel's practical jokes. She was out to frighten her; sort of, settling of scores for her last prank. Sejon's mind could not, would not conceive the contradictory outcome; nor would she accept the fearful concept and dire repercussions, of her being extorted. But considering the precise Information, gradually, she inwardly queried whether it could have been acquired, through force or, (perhaps) a willing participant, half- sister Nijel.  

No, that was not it at all! Sejon (out of fear) vehemently rejected that notion; for lately, ever since she had confirmed the truth about Nijel’s parentage, she had been most attentive and generous to Nijel. Furthermore, she had (Sejon had) ceased cursing and berating her for her tardiness. Nijel had no cause therefore, to hate her; besides which, their shared kinship bond could not be so easily superseded (supplanted), whatever the reason or threat.

03- NIJEL PINNG (1)

It is a lie, Sejon again pursed her lips and adamantly (obstinately) shook her head to purge those unwelcome thoughts that’d once more intruded into her brain. No; she was hiding somewhere there, the wilful, know it all tart; she was concealed somewhere specifically clever… But where, where in blazes could she be cloaked? Sejon snorted, remembering the time Nijel had once jested about growing wings and flying away. Surely, she had not done that. Sejon grimaced wryly at the ridiculousness of that desperate and hopeful thought.    

After seven more fruitless moments of increasingly frantic searching however, Sejon stood sullenly before the open window with the curtains now fully drawn, gazing blankly at the precipitous drop, oblivious to the heat of the sun on her face smarting her pallid cheeks. She could no longer deny the stark reality of Nijel’s abduction, nor dismiss the now presumed act of disloyalty and therefore, her betrayal.   

Eventually the mounting pain in her temples forced Sejon to draw away from the window and return to lie languidly on her bed, fully dressed, not even caring to remove her constricting slippers. In defiance of her will however, her mind still reeled (spun) with accusations and flashbacks, allowing her no respite. She groaned and buried her anxious (stressed) face in the plush pillow; steady flow of her flustered (anxious) tears soaked the linen and oddly enough, the moisture offered her cool comfort. Then after a time, her eyelids dropped.   

                                                                             …   

   

A buffeting (banging) sound at outside abruptly woke her and with a start she sat up. Her bleary eyes looked around at first, not grasping where she was; then, when her sharpened focus again surveyed the room, she noted how the sun's rays had receded away from the curtains, quietly announcing the arrival of the late afternoon. She nervously bit the corner of her lower lip thinking that she must have blacked out for at least two hours. When her gaze presently focused on the overturned vanity and chair in the far corner, the telltale signs of trouble swiftly brought back to her mind the contents of the extortion letter and filled her heart anew with intense fear and trepidation.   

Nijel’s disappearance, combined with those precise written facts… had Nijel collaborated with them all along, or had the information been extracted out of her via torture, after her abduction? Was there really an abduction? Sejon’s eyebrows again knit. There was no real sign of struggle in the room, not really. Besides which, she could have quietly overturned those light pieces herself to give that impression and then quietly slipped away, while she (Sejon) was reading that cursed letter.     

Sejon abruptly just then recollected angrily how she had given Nijel certain liberties lately, allowing her to come and go as she pleased; hence, the fault was hers (Sejon’s) for this generous leeway. Wallowing in self-recrimination, Sejon cupped her burning cheeks in her hands: Oh, what a fool she had been to place her trust in her half-sister Nijel! She had only herself to blame for this trouble, it was her own cursed naiveté. When will she ever learn not to trust anyone, particularly her own kin, especially in this den of wolves! Consequently, anger swelled in her heart, and it grew and grew, rising to the point of an unadulterated, seething rage. Sejon by then had been absolutely convinced that she had been manipulated and methodically, heartlessly, betrayed by her half-sister who had the backing of at least, two of her ardent nemeses; and so, inwardly she cursed the day she had first laid eyes on Nijel!    

How dare she collude with them …! How dare they threaten her!    

Sejon’s gaze stayed five more seconds on the threatening words in the letter instructing her not to search for Nijel Pinng. Her fury already supplanted by a determined course of revenge on Nijel and her presumed co-conspirators, she clenched her fists and simply shook her head, knowing in this she must act to the contrary, as well, produce a believable justification for her maidservant's prolonged absence. The last thing she wanted was for idle gossip to reach the ears of Zakhertan; meanwhile, she would force Nijel into hiding in earnest and, if the fiend half- sister ever mustered the courage, the nerve to re-appear, then…!    

Her thoughts abruptly turning to Areana, one who had found the letter, Sejon nodded, having decided on the only recourse (option) she felt was left open to her. Then, after summarily disposing the letter in the fireplace of the adjoining antechamber, she shouted in an angry voice for her servants to come in, setting the plan in motion. That late afternoon and well into the small hours of the evening, she had scattered them about in search of Nijel; they tirelessly scoured every inch of her Royal residence, but expectantly, could not find any trace of Nijel Pinng anywhere. It was as though the ground had opened and swallowed her whole.  

                                                                                     ~

Following day, the intense search had resumed at crack of dawn, and by noon, it had discreetly been extended to encapsulate (capture) the outer perimeter of the South Palace. In all that time Sejon constrained to play the part of a benevolent being, had displayed as deep a concern for her missing servant as was expected of one in her position; but when there was still no sign of NIjel, Sejon then subtly voiced her fears with self-recriminations on her tongue that, Nijel must have, for personal reasons, run away or worse still, she might have ended her life in some deep well. Lady Sejon then shed few more crocodile tears (an insincere show of grief) and reluctantly called off the search. Looking downtrodden and depressed, she dismissed all her attendants and took refuge in the cool serenity of her bedchamber. She had drawn the bed curtains aside and was about to lie down for an hour’s respite, when she sighted yet another sealed note placed squarely upon her embroidered pillow. Seeing red, she snatched the casing (envelope) and tore it open; what she read set her heart palpitating in angst and from that moment on, she was permanently robbed of any notion (vestige, sense) of being safe.  

Later still, in utter disbelief she had read and re-read the lines: "Commanding performance my dear; but by your reckless action, you have also condemned her to death. Be warned, any more such foolish acts in future, shall be met with far graver repercussions to you.”

"My dear?... Who would dare address her so brazenly!  

04- ladyship SEJON PONDERING

It was little comfort to her, that the special footnote at the bottom of the letter had reassured her, if she cooperated fully, her indiscretions would remain a secret (undisclosed), perhaps indefinitely.

Meanwhile, the last line before that, the felicitous wishes that she continues to enjoy her newly elevated status, fell hollow against the acerbic baldness of the subsequent statement, "Nothing more is required of you at this time".    

She had vented her rage by ripping the letter to shreds and then feeding the compressed smithereens to the flames; after which she had stood in the center of the room looking at everything around her with searing contempt yet feeling suddenly most vulnerable and exposed at the same time. The sudden urge to destroy everything within her sight and to reduce it all to ashes, just like the letter had robbed her of her aspirations, afresh swelled up in her chest. But if she were to do that, how could she (plausibly) explain her erratic and destructive temper-tantrum to Zakhertan Yozdek when the news of it, invariably reached his ears. As it was, she already dreaded having to weather the unpleasant speculation from certain quarters, about the disappearance of Nijel. She dreaded also that the impending, future salvo (barrage) of questions that she might be hard pressed to answer, despite the regular frequency of these sorts of events, if Nijel’s corpse was ever to be suddenly manifest.    

“No,” Sejon looked out the window and shook her head, vehemently denying this probability. This was nothing more than an idle threat, for Nijel being kept alive and utilized as a leverage, would be far more beneficial to the mastermind, villainous abductor.     

Sejon nevertheless felt terribly stifled, her lungs desperately needing oxygen (fresh air) she moved to the adjacent antechamber and went out onto the balcony to stand there sullenly by the ornate iron balustrade. She absently gazed at the burning disk of the setting sun, as it lit up the sky with the colors reflecting her inner rage. For a long while Sejon stood perfectly still, her throat constricted, her mind beset with horrific images of the future's dreaded dour (bleak) prospects, her heart meanwhile gripped by the inexplicable (perplexing) fear and pounding wildly in her chest. In the short span, her self-assured world had been shaken to the core. She now inwardly squirmed like a trapped animal, in an albeit gilded cage, knowing that from then on, she would be existing in a state of incessant anxiety, her every action constrained and dictated, her ambitions seriously curtailed, being subjected to the whims of yet another tormentor, besides Sovereign Zakhertan.    

Providence compounding her apprehensions, an edict (from His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek), was announced just then, commanding Sejon to ready herself within the hour for that night’s impending royal visit (favor).    

 

                                                                                             ~

 

(END OF SECTION 22)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 28

With a blank stare, Zunrogo followed the figure of Fradel Rurik Korvald exiting the room with Tizan in tow.  Unexpectedly, his thoughts drifted to his earlier concerns, as he continued to stare at the closed door, long after they had departed.

01- INCRIMINATING  lLETTER - JP

Until that day when he had been secretly assigned to recover the incriminating letter, he had no inkling, none, of its existence.  After the clandestine meeting, smartly, he had stalked the cloaked figure and observed him disappear into the Prime Minister's residences, hence, confirming the source of the orders.  Now, as always, he never undertook any assignment or initiated the least action until he had completely grasped the real score.  This sound measure had delivered him more than once from a perilous end.

Five weeks… that's how long he'd ardently pursued this case on the sly.  That's how long he'd been given but, through his vigilance, he had finally made a tactical breakthrough.  His discreet, painstaking investigations had eventually borne fruit, and he had uncovered some rather intriguing facts concerning Lord Shouzi Yozdek.  He had learned, for instance, how His Lordship for the past two years had been blackmailed by some very powerful person or group on a serious score.  He’d foolishly perhaps brushed aside   the fact that, His Lordship during these last two years, must have assigned others far more capable than he, and had only now sought his services, as a last resort. Nonetheless, he’d been flattered to be regarded highly enough by P.M. Lamont Gudaren who was in obvious collusion with the Lord, to resolve this dire, consequential matter.

Zunrogo smiled, thinking instead of how the successful conclusion of this task would reap him, untold benefits.

 Of course, speculating on the contents of the letter, he had considered bringing this to the attention of Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek; but he would have to be a real fool, and a dead one at that, to so much as try it.  Besides, why should he forfeit this golden opportunity to curry favor with those of real consequence, just to gain an uncertain reward from the Sovereign, whose actions had always been unpredictable at best?

He reflected further on the day he had made the breakthrough but since then, despite his tries, he had still not obtained positive identification of the blackmailers or the co-conspirators.

Each time he had made great strides and seemed to be on the verge of a discovery, his sources would mysteriously dry up, and all incriminating evidence would vanish without a trace into thin air.  Moreover, possessing an analytical mind these otherwise disheartening setbacks only confirmed his long-standing suspicions and his strong hunch.  Sometime prior, through inductive reasoning, he had arrived, with a measure of certainty, at just who it was that was behind it all and, once he had a grip on that fact, he had charted a decisive course which inevitably led him to this set of circumstances.

That had been the reason he had petitioned to be assigned to the task of affording Fradel Rurik Korvald safe conduct on this last leg of his journey.  He knew that this ingenious cover as the guide and protective escort to the illustrious scholar would better enable him to attain this goal.  That had also been why he had insisted the moment he knew that Tizan book passage of this vessel instead of, one more suited to transporting a noted scholar.

Suddenly a note of uncertainty infiltrated his thoughts.  As it became more pronounced his mind vacillated (wavered) once more.  “Was it wise of him to go at it alone?  Could he cope with the magnitude of it should things go awry?  What about the dire repercussions either way?” 

A deeper concern at once darkened (clouded) his face.  “He had been given assurances and sound reasoning, yes, but what real guarantee, what leverage did he hold should P.M. Lamont Gudaren did not live up to his promise and chose instead, to dispose of him permanently shortly after he had procured the letter?” 

P.M. LAMONT GUDAREN

Fresh concern just then knitted Zunrogo’s brow. “He had not taken any one into his confidence, not Tizan, not Gaos Zunkur, not even… and so, he had no one watching his back.    What if His Lordship Shouzi Yozdek, shrewd man that he was, were to strike out independently of the Prime Minister to initiate his (Zunrogo’s) demise soon after his completion of the assignment?”

 

                                                                              ~

 

After Fradel Rurik Korvald was promptly ushered (deposited) into his room Tizan, showing reluctance to leave, insisted on recounting to the scholar the list of essential provisions he had taken pains to procure during Fradel's brief absence from the room.  With a certain amusement, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) discretely noted Tizan's underhanded aim.

True enough, after Tizan closed the door tightly behind him, he quickly produced the key he had stolen and locked the scholar in.

"This is for your own good." Tizan shouted with forced sincerity from other side of the door.  "I bid you peaceful rest now, sir!  Try not to be too concerned about what you may hear later on, especially tonight."

 Tizan, gritting his teeth, grumbled noiselessly, contemptuously. “So put up with it, wretch!  If it were up to me, you'd be transported bound and gagged, strapped to a horse's ass, all the way to the Capital.”  His wicked mind (on) entertaining many other, viler, despicable scenarios, he next sported a broader (wide) grin and quickly strode away.

Nevetsecnuac on the inside, quite unconcerned, shrugged, and then strolled over to the porthole to stare out at the dense fog.  Suddenly however, a slight trepidation brushed across his face, and he shook his head. “If only he didn't need Zunrogo, to gain entry into the Capital.”

Unfortunately, Nevetsecnuac had been informed at the last port how, due to most recent unsuccessful assassination attempts on the emperor’s life, for bad news travels fast, all points of entry to the Imperial Capital, for an indefinite period, would remain heavily guarded and closely monitored. More importantly, any access to the inner segments of Channing would be severely curtailed. These ardent (extreme) restrictions, the intense scrutiny, could, at any time, expose Fradel Rurik Korval (Nevetsecnuac), as an impostor. Conversely, with a well-known personage like Zunrogo Tugo vouching for the authenticity of Fradel’s credentials, a smooth and timely ingress (way in, entrance) would be assured. Zunrogo was made indispensable for yet another reason: as Nevetsecnuac true prowess was so truncated (curtailed) under his pseudo identity, Zunrogo’s protection would be an essential deterrence for any other future attempts on the scholar Fradel’s life.

 

                                                                                   ~

 

 When Tizan reported back, Zunrogo immediately dispatched him again with a new set of commands.  Then, as if on second thought, he called Tizan back just as he was headed out the door and instructed him to bring the woman named Disaidun Agripe to him at once.

"Sir?"  Tizan was perplexed.

"You heard me!"  Zunrogo turned his angry back to Tizan.

“Since when had Tizan ever questioned my orders, however bizarre?  All right, given these circumstances, I'll overlook it this once.”  Zunrogo grimaced coldly, his back still to the door.

As Tizan assented and sharply turned to head out the door, his face assumed a strange, baffled look.

03-TZAN JP

 “Now, what would the captain be wanting with her; granted, she was ravishingly beautiful, but this was hardly the time for Zunrogo to be indulging in such frolic?”  With a strange gleam in his eye, he reached out to unlock her cabin door then stepped in briskly to survey the room.

Being a particularly dark day, the room was scantily illuminated by the oil lamp and, through the flickering light, Tzan spotted two figures casting long, wavering shadows on the far wall.  The husband was hugging (embracing) his wife as he whispered something into her ear, presumably soothing words, in his feeble attempt to ease, to arrest her fears while she clutched to him; both were standing also, protectively before the sleeping baby lying snuggled in its blankets at the far corner of the bunk bed.

Tizan strode across and stood glowering venomously at them as his smile quickly turned into a scowl of hatred, "Oh what a perfect picture you two make.  The loving devoted couple.  Too bad it’s about to be shattered… Ha, ha, ha!” This made them quake more because Tizan’s careless words had portended (foretold) the dreaded catastrophe that obviously awaited them.

"What do you want from us?" Despite his attempt to suppress it, the man's voice shook (quivered) in fear, as he demanded.

"Oh, from you nothing yet,” Tizan turned to the woman and, grasping her arm in a steel grip, yanked Disaidun Agripe forward (towards him), tearing her away from her husband's embrace.

The woman inwardly shuddered and cast a pitiful plea-gaze at her husband, silently imploring him to do something, to rescue her from, perhaps a fate worse than death. But how could he defy an Imperial guard and live to talk about it. The child, as if sensing the danger, suddenly woke just then and started to screech and bellow.

"Shut that brat up, or else", Tizan growled and turned, showing his clenched fist to the husband, threat implicit, that he would do it for him, if the squalling nuisance was not quietened at once.

The man abandoning his defiant aim, compliantly turned and picked up the baby and protectively cradled it in his arms; but when the crying did not cease, fearing for his son’s safety, he pressed the infant’s face to his chest to stifle the noise.

 "Hush Tait, hush child.  Hush."

"Husband, please help, oh, save me!" Her eyes, issuing silent-pleas were again directed at her husband, as the hot tears coursed down her cheeks, wrenching her husband’s heart and causing him to clench his teeth in anguish.

“He couldn't just let her be taken away, not like this.  He may never see her again!”

 His struggling wife Disaidun Agripe, meanwhile, had dug her heels into the plank floor, but was still being forcefully dragged towards the door.

 Determinedly, her husband was about to put down the gasping child and regardless (heedless) of the consequence, rush to confront (tackle, defy) this Imperial brute, when Tizan half turned, his menacing grin all too explicit,

“You just try it, old man, I dare you to!” 

These unspoken words rooted the husband to the spot. He was only a civic (public, municipal) official, but even if he had been studying martial arts or had served in the military, what real chance would he have now, going against an elite Imperial guard?  Cowering, he lowered his gaze to the floor, “Maybe, just maybe they just wanted to question her?” He reasserted inwardly, trying to calm his fears. “Although, for what reason, he could not phantom?”

 Long after they had gone, however, he continued to pace the floor to and for, senses deadened as if in a mad daze. The tragic picture of his wife’s eyes pleading, her fruitless struggle, and her silent accusation, permanently etched on his mind's eye, haunted his eyes, ears and soul to the bottomless abyss while remorse, like a long needle, kept mercilessly jabbing and jabbing at his heart.

“What kind of spineless man was he anyway?  How could he have allowed his precious, virtuous wife to have been taken away from him like that, without the least struggle?”

“Yes, he knew he'd constrained his fury, wanting to protect his child, still, was that reason enough?” He shook his head, his brain searching desperately for more altruistic rationale, any hidden noble motivation to absolve (forgive) him for his cowardice.

DISRAUGHT HUSBAND 3

“The Imperial guard ruffian was too powerful; besides he had been armed and had others backing him up.  What can one man do to counter this grave injustice against a murderous army of brutes?

Maybe, just maybe, all they wanted was specific info, and so, sought to interrogate his wife. Again, he tried to ease his conscience from the intense, gripping shame, by reasoning with the same barefaced lie; but try as he might, the naked truth, stubbornly, blatantly gripped his heart and wrenched it.  No, there was no getting around it.  Each time he tried to deny it the brutal reality of it still snuck in forcefully and struck him to the very core of his being.

Cowardice, he was guilty of cowardice.  He was a useless piece of offal… And as his due punishment there would be, for the rest of his life, no reprieve, no absolution for him.   

Intermittent, persistent flushes of anger, shame, regret and then outrage washed over him, made him feel consistently smaller, smaller than a maggot, slime, a slug.

How would he face her?  How could he ever right this wrong?  His imagination ran rampant, and waves of sickness and disgust consumed him once more as he quietly sobbed, his body trembling and convulsing.

Subsequently, he jumped up and, like a trapped animal, paced the room to and for once more, stopping only to pound his fists on the cabin wall. When he noticed the profuse blood which now oozed from lacerations of his hands, beyond caring, he simply wiped them on his shirt, staining it with crimson streaks!

 

                                                                               ~

(END OF SECTION 28)