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.
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| 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?”
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| P.M. LAMONT GUDAREN |
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.
"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.
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| 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.
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| 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)
