11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 10

The moment it had happened the news of the shameful episode and Prince Herleif’s subsequent punishment had spread like a wildfire throughout the Palace. The staff nevertheless hid their delighted chuckles and guffaws hidden behind a sleeve or a handkerchief, while inwardly wishing, still worst in store (yet to be) for this particularly disfavored Royal fiend (brute). As it were, no one seriously expected Herleif to one day ascend the throne; meanwhile, five or six staff members had already began expounding on the ensuing repercussions of this recent debacle (fiasco).

Zakhertan Yozdek’s estimation being right on the mark, fifty strokes had been more than an adequate punishment for the crown prince with his low pain threshold; Herleif had to be revived several times, due to the requirement that the offender (lawbreaker) remained conscious during punishment, until all the strokes had been properly administered. When it was all over, Herleif was taken back to his Royal apartments where he was gradually nursed back to health by the assigned, conscientious (diligent) Royal Physician, Enqui Rimeng.

After lying in unconscious state for several hours on the first night, Prince Herleif soon as he had regained his strength, spent the subsequent days and nights ranting and raving, venting his suppressed rage, foul temper, curses and unwarranted vengeful acts upon that vulnerable help who tended to him.

01- PRINCE HERLEIF RANTING AND RAVING

 Those domestics (servants, retainers) who were obliged to serve his unreasonable needs were made to suffer tenfold pain, worse than he had been forced to bear. His unjustified wraths (ire, madness) were only interrupted by ear splitting shrieks when the bandages were changed (replaced); his high-pitched yelps akin a whipped jackal, meanwhile, ripped through the air each time the potent medicine, a stinging salve (ointment, lotion) was applied on his lacerations.

Herleif (needless to say), had entirely missed the point of his punishment, and no one was foolish enough to attempt to reason with him or enlighten him on the elusive logic, let alone this rare, lenient consequence, for which he should be thankful (glad, content).

                                                                                   ~ 

Royal Tutor Worren Youkup’s previous night's soul-searching and sleepless hours of self recrimination, on the subsequent dawn (at daybreak) had visibly left its mark on his face.

Worren, nevertheless, was still adamant (resolute, determined ) to confront Lady Sejon and extract a plausible  explanation from her; hence, no sooner had he dressed and breakfasted, he climbed into his personal carriage and instructed the driver (handler, coach) to take him (traversing across the vast palace grounds) at once to the South Palace gate.

02-THE GATE OF SOUTH PALACE

Worren Youkup once there, while alighting from the carriage he quietly considered the long and brisk (laborious) walk that lay ahead of him before his destination, the compound at the far side of the South Palace where Lady Sejon, currently the Sovereign's favorite, resided. The location, besides being the grandest apartments in the South Palace, was set at the farthest high ridge (at high elevation with many steps leading up to it), with an stringent checkpoint at the bottom, positioned prior to the hanging bridge that crossed over the ecological (natural) deep lake, an intimidating, unwarranted measure, which  displayed her importance and discouraged any trespass from wayward or frivolous (inconsequential) visitors.   

This morning had been unseasonally frigid, Worren Youkup’s breath as he exhaled, let out white plumes of vapor testifying to  the crispness of the morning air; nevertheless, after flatly refusing the offered palanquin (rikshaw) ride, he with an unreadable expression for a spell had lingered at the spot and stared at the long stretch that lay before him. He of course, had deliberately opted to walk off all that nervous energy (in solitude) which had been bottled up within his chest; anticipating that, the physical exertion would placate his troubled heart and mind before he confronted Lady Sejon.

His prior (routine) morning walks had always given him an inexplicable sense of rejuvenation and oneness with nature, as well, effectively diminished (paled) all major disconcerting (disquieting, worrying) thoughts and experiences that often beset (plagued) him. Indeed, in those instances, the knotty (tricky) political affairs and dubious acts of powerful people that aggrieved his conscience, plus the problematic social and administrative duties had always (vanished) melted away by the wafting breezes that gentle caressed his cheeks; then, for a fleeting shining moment or two, whatever had ailed his heart or plagued his conscience, thankfully and indubitably, lost its significance (and potency).  That is what he’d sought to echo (recap) this very morning; thus, his steps anon (presently), promptly and carefully tread on the interwoven, smooth, damp logs of the hanging bridge, for it had drizzled (rained) freshly just before dawn. Worren Youkup, furthermore, indulging his lungs with rhythmic, deep intakes of oxygen, welcomed the soft zephyr (gentle wind) drifting (fanning) off the lake and experienced the familiar sensation, to akin absolute peace and tranquillity, availed by that pristine, crisp morning breezes that buffeted his sleeves and caressed his cheeks.

Subsequently, as his rapid and sure steps advanced towards Lady Sejon’s main dwelling (key residence), the acute tautness (tension) from his shoulders had also gradually eased and he was temporarily thence, got reprieved from the consequential qualms of his present dilemma. Halting for a spell, his eyes took in the magnificent outlay (brilliantly organized lay out, geometric designs, delightful landscape etc.) that stretched out before him; as he did this, he was reminded once more, that, ‘Things were same yet not the same.’

03- SOUTH PALACE - 1 JP

The South Palace (typically guarded by the heavily armed parapets,) contrasted in every viable way from the other Imperial dwellings (compounds, buildings), including those of Eunuch’s edifices (structures). Here for instance, the prevalent architecture by design lost the severity of all others. The manicured grounds, currently awakening at dawn and reconciled by the delicate patterns of the exquisitely adorned, more refined flowers, glistened with the jewel-like dew on them; meanwhile, Worren’s nostrils were delightfully assailed by their varied (diverse, mottled) intoxicating fragrances.

Those brilliant nuggets of flowerbeds, moreover, occasionally held in its centre the mythic nymphs, pleasing female-guardian statues, or the representations of legendary beauties fixed in enchanting poses. To put it succinctly, all was designed to totally inveigle (cajole) the senses, to disarm and place one in an amicable, receptive mood. Worren, likewise, mollified (placated), he watched the butterflies’ flitter here and there; while lending an ear to the ongoing lugubrious symphony of insects and birds, his soul entirely lightened now, of all its (mundane) burdens.

 

04- HEAVENLY GARDEN LANDSCAPES - 9

Unexpectedly, an involuntary shudder just then however, reminded Worren Youkup of the cold, forbidding North Palace where Zakhertan Yozdek resided. The austere Spartan decor of the North Palace was in keeping with the bloody frescoes which glorified hunting, war and the Sovereign's supremacy over nature and the works of Heaven. Every niche and corner held menacing marble grotesques representing War Spirits and Demons. Even Zakhertan Yozdek’s private garden from his apartments was decorated to look more like a battlefield than a quiet meadow.

 

Worren, two days prior had received the summons to render his usual report this late afternoon, a task which he did not ordinarily relished; currently however, this was made worse by Prince Herleif’s recent debacle (catastrophe). Worren, hence, shook his head to dispel those unwarranted, worrisome thoughts and fears that anew threatened to burden his soul and directed his attention instead, on the present fecundity (lushness) of nature, which opportunely once more lulled his senses into a tranquil state. Worren, furthermore, focused his gaze deliberately on the intricate granite walkway ahead that was boarded by glazed colourful (azure, yellow, red, green) tiles that glistened, then on the elaborately carved balustrades (handrails, railing) that boarded it. His steps absentmindedly navigated the smooth surfaces, as he pondered on the anticipated, soon to be encountered labyrinth (maze of) of fragrant orchard trees and then the snaking path of the tranquil bamboo grove.

 

05- SUMMER PALACE GARDEN - JP  3

 

                                                                                                        ~  

Worren Youkup’s hasty steps swiftly advanced (passed) through the large, circular moon shaped gate next, and then bypassing into the inner courtyard, he finally entered Sejon's private quarters. There, his gaze was greeted by jewel encrusted mosaics depicting seductive scenes of exotic nymphs cavorting shamelessly across the walls, designed to bring forth euphoric ecstasy of the imagined Heaven.  Notwithstanding his puritanical nature his gaze lingered briefly on them, to vicariously appreciate the frolicking, lifelike, voluptuous pixies (fairies, elves), fertile earth spirits entwined around the carved turquoise pillars that stretched up to the purple ceiling.

Worren Youkup’s feet, independent of thought, then softly glided on the plush carpet past the ranks of vermilion doors flanking the corridor and emitting waves of exuberance, warmth, and secrets, or whispered intimacies. Despite the bustling of the servants rushing to and for, there was such an atmosphere of placid tranquillity that he wondered if the news of last night's events had reached here at all. But of course, it had.

Later on, he would learn that the uproar which had rocked the very grounds of the East, West and South Palaces had not at all disturbed Her Ladyship's slumber. While everything was turned upside down about her, Sejon had slept soundly and peacefully through all the animated gestures, the whispers, the sighs and lashing of tongues. It was as though her physical form and soul existed in the  alternate placid universe.

The North Palace had also maintained the (norm) routine, as the resilient, stout attendants and guards often being quite accustomed to earthshaking events, completed their assigned tasks, with regimented, military efficiency, throughout the night and subsequent morning.

                                                                                                       ~

When her Ladyship Sejon finally awoke at her usual time in mid-morning Sejon was delicately informed by a serving staff (team) that the old tutor Worren Youkup had made his unexpected, early visit and that, stubbornly, he insisted on waiting for an audience (conference) with her.

"If he has so much time on his hands then waiting a little more will not hurt him." Sejon had replied without emotion and continued with her leisurely bath and toiletries. “Those towering bookshelves in the library will no doubt afford him some amusement; let him pass the time there. Make sure he has his treats." 

Having been perfumed and dressed she then consumed a full breakfast in her usual, unhurried manner.

 

06- HER  LADYSHIP SEJON

                                                                                                          ~

Worren Youkup, meanwhile, as per her orders, was congenially ushered into the library and, after making himself comfortable was served a cupful of fragrant herbal tea. A large tray of his favorite small cucumber sandwiches, sweets, and exotic tidbits was also placed nearby for him to partake.

“No, Sejon, I won’t be so easily mollified or enticed this day.” Worren had inwardly scoffed, snubbing the tray of cuisine pabulums (victuals).

Subsequently, leaning his back in the plush chair, his stern gaze had instead, uninterestedly swept over the volumes, row upon row of classic manuscripts and rare scrolls about family loyalty, proper conduct and morals which now taunted him by their incongruous presence in these apartments. But as the hours wore on, in these plush surroundings with the flowers perfume from the garden wafting into the room, it gradually pacified Worren Youkup’s inner fury and iron resolve; his hand meanwhile, had absently wandered over to the tray and, before he’d even realized what he had done, he had already popped several delicious cucumber sandwiches into his mouth. And once he had started, he could not very well stop, and so, with a sigh, he consumed last two of those delectable (scrumptious) sweet comestibles (edibles).

 

                                                                                                      ~

Sejon, with an amicable (cordial) smile, one that did not reach her eyes, had eventually sauntered into the library after her breakfast; but her keen eyes at once (noting) finding the tray empty, her laconic (pithy, curt) yet decidedly dour (terse, severe) look at the servants sent them immediately scurrying off to refill it.     

"What brings us the pleasure of your company so early in the day, Master Youkup?” She inquired pleasantly; her voice filled with respect while inwardly she cursed. “I will tolerate you for a while longer, you old fool, for you still have some use.”      

"You are always welcome here, of course."  She puckered (pursed) her crimson lips and coyly shook her hair once she had crossed the room to stand facing Worren Youkup, who had risen from his chair to greet her.

She was about to add, as you well know, I am more disposed to receiving visitors in the afternoon, but Worren's firm, almost angry countenance froze (arrested) the words on her tongue. After indicating for him to take a seat, she with a certain flair and charming decorum seated herself also, right across from the old scholar.

Observing her placid (tranquil, serene) demeanor, Worren Youkup could not have estimated that, just then, her stomach had in fact, knotted with anxiety.

For a period, they both sat immobile and with unreadable expressions simply gazed (stared) at the other, without a word passing between them.

Sejon held up her fragrant handkerchief to her nose and then pursing her lips momentarily looked away, as she succinctly considered: Courtesy was always the best policy. There was no point in aggravating the old goat any more than he clearly, already was.

"I hope you have not been kept waiting too long, sir.” Sejon purred her insincere apology, finally ending the uncomfortable silence, as she same time flashed him one of her winning smiles.

“That should be enough to placate him.”  She was confident of the effect, being the most enchanting beauty in all the land and typically, the response had always been the same; but Worren’s unwavering eyes had met hers coldly then moved about the room, resting briefly on each of her attendants until they settled on Nijel, her newly promoted yet most trusted and ambitious lady in waiting.

07- NIJEL

Worren Youkup wry (sardonic, cynical) smile fleetingly brushed his lips and then he nodded, “Despite her angelic face, yes, that vixen would be the one.”

 Worren lowering his gaze, cogitated further: Nijel’s keen eyes, before she quickly veiled (disguised) it, had bespoken of ruthlessness, an intense yearning and an unfulfilled ambition…More importantly, since she had replaced the absent Zijur, Nijel had consistently of late, had wormed (inveigled) her way into Sejon's confidence. Besides, Sejon was too crafty to soil her own hands.

Sejon's mind, meanwhile, was perturbed by the old man's cryptic manner; underneath her projected, fragile smile, laid bitterness she could not entirely repress. "How may I be of service to you, Master Youking?"  Receiving no reaction still, she pressed on, "Perhaps, sir, you would wish to visit my son, prince Ma...?"    

"No."  The curt (snappy) and unnaturally loud tone (voice, assertion) caused two of her servants to jump.

 "I apologize for my terse response,” Worren Youkup quickly composed himself, then added, in a low toneless voice, picking out each word meticulously. “However, the sole reason for my visit Madame, is to discuss here and now, a matter of utmost urgency pertaining to ..."  He stopped then his eyes dubiously (suspiciously) glared at Nijel.

"I am at your disposal then, Master Youkup." Sejon, pretending not to have noticed this, assumed instead a baffled (perplexed) look, plus just a hint of vulnerability added to her quivering, caring tone, that completed the pseudo (quasi, imitation) picture of a persona of an eager pupil, as she same time sat stiffly upright in her seat.

"Pray, tell me also, have I or any of my staff, done anything to displease you; speak frankly, your mind, sir, so that I may address (tackle) it immediately."    

Worren Youkup fought off the urge to slip into familiar pedantry. “Oh, you are good my dear, but it won't work this time.”  Her submissive manner far from pleasing him, seen now in a vastly different light, merely served to annoy him and his mouth creased into a grimace of disdain (akin a scorn).

“This brazen vixen is toying with me! Has it come to this, then?”  Though his expression outwardly had not changed, inwardly the resurgent rage had choked the words in Worren’s throat. “She knows full well what she has done, yet playing the innocent…what unmitigated gall she has?”

Worren, adamant at not showing any weakness, exhaled deeply to check his indignation then leaned back. “All right, my dear, we will play this your way.”  He softened his expression and fixed a more amiable gaze on her. In a pleasant tone he next inquired, "I wonder if, before we proceed any further, it could be arranged for us to speak privately."    

"Leave us."  Sejon's immediate, curt wave of her hand dismissed all her attendants, indicating to Worren Youkup that at least she wished to cooperate. They all promptly departed except for Nijel, who had not budged an inch from her mistress' side.

Worren Youkup remained silent; he knitted his brows and his stern gaze simply looked away, to a void space in the periphery of (just inches from), where Nijel stood.

 

(END OF SECTION 10)

 

 

                                                                                           ~

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 19

As predicted, it did not take very long before the unconscious scholar stirred.  Stifling a cough, Yagu sat erect, waiting with bated breath for the young man (Nevetsecnuac) to open his eyes.

The Scholar’s (Nevetsecnuac's) lips moved, but no sound ushered forth.  His eyes cracked open then, suddenly recalling his last moments (memories), he sat bolt upright.

"Take it easy, son." a friendly voice stopped him from jumping off of the bed.  "You might have had a concussion after that fall."

01- NEVETSECNUAC

Fortunately, Nevetsecnuac having just then regained his focus, turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw the old farmer whom he instantly recognized.  "How is it that you came to be here, sir?" He asked respectfully despite his surprise.  Then, feeling a gripping pain in the back of his head, he raised his hand absentmindedly to touch it; there was a big lump there, that correspondingly stained his fingers with a crimson hue.

Yagu Dorka, hummed and hemmed, as he arranged his thoughts and the consistent facts that would tally (correspond, parallel) with the yarn he was about to weave (knit, plait); but even before Yagu responded, Svein (Nevetsecnuac) had already grasped the situation and the reason why he had been spared, from an otherwise, certain doom.

Nevetsecnuac now discretely observed how Yagu’s difficult life had etched a few more lines on his face already scored with wrinkles. Despite his apparent ailment however, which anew threw the old man into another violent fit of coughing, he was still a hardy peasant and, not easily sapped of his strength.

Eventually, when Yagu's coughing subsided, “So, it is you! I thought as much." his eyes smarting, the old man forced a smile to his quivering lips and nodded.

 “Heaven be praised! Sir, you gave us such a scare when you fainted."  He pounded at his chest to relieve the congestion.

"Fainted? No.", Svein's voice was incredulous. “I was drugged,” he wanted to say more, but he stilled his tongue, for fear of further aggravating Yagu’s condition.

"Yes, yes, you're right, of course. You passed out, but it was not done on purpose, you know."  Yagu groped for words, then grimaced slightly, leaning back to explain in a sincere tone.  "You see, at my advanced age, I'm always beset with ailments of one kind or another.  I won't bore you with lengthy explanations of them all.  Only that, well, one of my medications, it was my fault, really for leaving it on the kitchen counter after I'd used it, and wouldn't you know it?  It was mistakenly, when I was absent, it was used by Kenny, my cousin’s, the Innkeeper’s youngest son, when he made your tea.  You see, the ingredients of this prescription bear an uncanny resemblance to the tea leaves we use, and the pots are of the same sort.  It's understandable that he could make that mistake.  I'm so very sorry."

Yagu spread his hands comically.

Likely story: you must think of me as a fool.  Nevetsecnuac was peeved; still not letting on, with outward calm equanimity, he listened on to the absurd (bizarre) explanation.

 "Any way, it’s one of its medicinal properties that it puts me to sleep."  Stifling a cough, he shook his head, "Yes, that stupid boy gave you my medicine by mistake but don't worry, it won't harm you none.  Not a big boy like you.  Or should I say "man" now?" 

Yagu started to chuckle, partly due to his attempt at humor, partly in relief, as he saw that Svein raised no objections to his fabrication.

 "You are married by now, are you not?"  He paused to note Svein's nod.  "You must tell me all about it later.  After all we've shared, we're practically kinsmen, are we not?"

 Yagu smiled sheepishly while taking such liberties.

 "I'm afraid all I've gotten is older, although I've picked up a little learning, thanks to my educated cousin here….”

"Well, anyway, you should have seen the commotion when you fainted, passed out, rather.  You gave us such a scare," Yagu slapped his knee jovially, "that is, until we found out what had happened to you.  I came in just as you passed out, you see."

Nevetsecnuac (Svein), now that the danger had passed, was both amused and entertained by Yagu's description of the supposed antics of the innkeeper's family.  He knew it was all invented, but Yagu had the individual's characteristics all in place, and embellished it with such detail, thinking, no doubt, that he was covering all angles.

"And if you're wondering how, it is you revived so quickly, well, that's easily enough explained," Yagu concluded, "we gave you another medicine, one I use to keep me on my toes.  You see, I tire so easily and there's so much to be done around here.  Yes sir, it did the trick and brought you around in a jiffy.  Luckily you had not drunk so much tea to begin with and you're such a healthy young man.  Well, I mustn't disturb you any longer.", slapping his knee, Yagu rose to go just as a tray of food was brought in by the grinning Aguda, who parroted the same story as the old man, even using the same turns of phrase Yagu had used except for the minor difference of substituting the word 'wine' for 'tea'.

"We'll talk at length tomorrow."  Yagu tugged at Aguda's sleeve, steering him towards the door to cut short his prattling.  "Yes, yes, and we'll introduce you to everyone tomorrow too, especially my grandson Lerty, he’s such a good boy and you are his benefactor, he must thank you personally! We both owe you so much.” Yagu affectionately smiled at Svein.

02- LERTY

“Yes, you’ll meet him tomorrow, because it’s too late now.” Yagu continued. “And besides, you should eat before your meal gets cold, and rest.  But don't hesitate to call out if you need anything else, son.  My room is right next to yours."  He pushed (shoved) his cousin Aguda the innkeeper outside and closed the door after them.

"What's the matter with you?"  Once outside, the old man wiped the beads of perspiration off of his forehead and looked scornfully at Aguda.  "You know, you really talk too much!  You nearly spoiled everything.  Didn't you eavesdrop on what I was telling him?"  Grumbling, he kept up the reproach as he led the way to the kitchen.

"I spoil everything.  You're completely without fault, I suppose?" Aguda gestured sarcastically then, closing the kitchen door to sneer spitefully.

"What?  What did I do that was so wrong?" Yagu jumped back down the other's throat with his questioning gaze.

Aguda glared back, resisting the urge to bellow, "How come you couldn't think of a better excuse than that one you gave?  You gave me dreadful fear back there."

"And what was wrong with it?  He bought it, didn't he?  I thought I was rather clever cooking up such a convincing story."

"Clever, perhaps," Aguda laughed coldly, "except that he drank no tea."

"NO TEA?"

"Shh!!!  Quiet!  You want him to hear you?" Aguda warned hotly.

"Then what was the teapot doing there on the table?" Yagu demanded angrily in a quieter voice.  "I know you're too cheap to spoil the wine or the food."

"Well, for your information, we'd spiked all three.  And no, he partook of no tea; it was too coarse for his liking."  Aguda snorted, wrinkling his nose.  "It was half a cup of wine, if that? But for certain, it was the spiked vittles that did the job."

"No tea?  No tea!  Yet he...  augh, Gods preserve me!" Yagu clutched at his chest, stymied, totally missing Aguda's ugly grimace.

 "Oh, I feel so ashamed!" he meekly ejected, looking to his cousin for some sympathy, some understanding.  "He knew all along that I was lying, yet..."

"Yet he allowed you to maintain your dignity." Aguda nodded coldly.  "Such finesse!"

"Such manners too, don't forget.  He's a most remarkable young man, isn't he?"  Yagu’s sigh rumbled in his chest like thunder.

03- YAGU DORKA

 "Oh, how I wish I'd had a son like him.  That boy will go far."  Again, he began to cough.  "You know, your boys can learn a lot from him."

"And what's wrong with my boys?" Aguda's eyes blazed with anger as he retorted hotly.

"Nothing…  No need to get so huffy about it.  I merely suggested that they take some lessons from this young man.", Yagu was cowed.  "You said yourself; he has such finesse.  Respect, isn't that what you meant by it?"

I said 'finesse', you fool! Aguda swore inwardly yet nodded his head in concurrence.  It's pointless to argue intelligently with this ignoramus.

"Yes, your boys do show respect to you, but not much to anyone else, certainly not to their stepmother Fiona."  Yagu threw a quick pitying glance at Aguda's young wife, toiling quietly in the corner then busied himself with the preparation of his own nightly potion.

Aguda's stern eyes scrutinized his wife briefly as a sinister, ugly smile played fleetingly across his face.  Deciding not to make an issue of it, he snorted and returned his attention back to Yagu. 

"It's your own fault if they show no respect to you, old buzzard. Aguda jumped in, not giving the other a chance to speak. “For, in all cases you must earn their respect first.” 

“All right, whatever you say...” Yagu was tired of constantly fighting Aguda, and as usual, let things slide.

 “Well then, so long as you see the error of your ways, “Aguda having won this round as well, softened. “Though now, I think I'd better go and lock up." Gloating in self-satisfaction, Aguda jumped to his feet. 

"You're going to be all right with that?" he asked his wife rhetorically as he headed out the door.

"Yes, yes, you go on ahead." she answered automatically.  "I'll secure the back door after I'm done here and dumped the..."  She saw he was gone.

04-FIONA (AGUDA'S YOUNG WIFE)

"You'd better go to bed, too, sweet child." Yagu said to Fiona kindly, once Aguda was absent.  "It'll wait until tomorrow."

"I've kept your supper warm, Uncle," the young woman assented, "shall I dish it out for you now?"

"No, no, dear.  You just go on ahead.  You must be exhausted, toiling all day without rest.  I'll serve myself."

When she'd left Yagu prepared himself a platter, careful to add an extra helping for his grandson, in case the poor boy had, once again, missed his dinner.

 

                                                                                     ~

After proper introductions at dawn of the following day, Svein informed Yagu of his wish to depart at mid-morning, even though the downpour had not ceased.  Of course, his host would not hear of it and, gaining reinforcement from the innkeeper and his brood, prevailed upon Svein all morning to delay his departure for at least a day or two.  The false, forced sincerity, however, made Svein long all the more to escape this den-of-deceit.

After having readied his luggage, he breakfasted in the large dining hall.  Yagu was still pestering him not to go when Kenny, the youngest boy, burst in, dripping wet to announce that he'd spotted another traveler headed in their direction.

Elatedly just then Aguda let it slip to Svein, how good fortune had smiled on them thrice this week that, this was their third customer in as many days, a rare occurrence indeed.  Seated across the table from Svein, Yagu sat with a lowered head, (chewing his lip and) hiding the serious concern that had suddenly registered on his pupils.

Presently Svein witnessed first-hand the stir, the commotion from within the inn as they prepared to welcome yet another potential (prey) customer.

Sometime later, Aguda, having seen every detail, beaming from ear to ear took up his position by the door and waited anxiously, all the while wringing his sweaty hands.

 As soon as the traveler made his appearance at the door, Aguda greeted him with the same, patented felicitations that Svein had received earlier on; but when, after the sweeping bow which Aguda typically used to accompany his congenial inquiry of the stranger's name- the larger than life,  fierce newcomer, had instead, fastening (pinning) his cold, disdainful eyes on the innkeeper had simply snorted:

"You may address me as 'Sir'."

Nevetsecnuac could not shake the sudden, foreboding feeling that their puny lives were no more than a mere annoyance to this superior being; as at same moment a deadly, oppressive shadow had instantly engulfed the entire premise, chilling everyone within, to the marrow.  This was no ordinary traveler; there was something potent, something so very lethal about him.

The red-faced Aguda, mumbling nonsense, looked about him, as if seeking a hole to crawl into, only to see the amused Yagu turning his face to the wall as the old man stifled a chuckle.

From his odd attire the stranger could be any number of things: a warrior ranger, a military guard, perhaps an advanced scout, or a lone messenger.  He was formidable enough, his large, framed body towered well over six feet in height and his fiery red hair and grizzled beard framed a pair of ice-cold blue gray eyes.

Shoving aside the glib tongued Aguda, who was intent on ushering him to a seat, he strode boldly over to a table of his own choosing by the rear window and squarely sat himself down. 

As he placed his impressive sword down on the table, he looked across his shoulder at Svein.  Their eyes briefly met.  He grimaced coldly, gave a brief nod of greeting then turned his gaze ahead once more.  He then withdrew a pouch, obviously full of cash, and laid it on the table beside the sword's scabbard.  In a non-nonsense manner, he demanded wine at once and some meat for breakfast.

Aguda hurried Kenny off to the kitchen to start his wife cooking the meat, then attempted, as he had so many times before, to impose himself on his guest.  Unlike other times, the innkeeper was severely rebuked and had to make a hasty retreat to the kitchen after his son.

“Greed makes people courageous, they say.”  Yagu succumbed to additional chuckles.

Aguda emerged shortly with a small jug of wine, not unlike the one Svein had been served, and all in smiles, approached the stranger once more.

"What is this, you dolt?" the stranger thundered.  "Are you hard of hearing or just stupid?

 I asked for a flagon."  With a sudden sweep of his hand, he almost knocked the wine and Aguda with it, to the ground.

 Aguda, with incredible agility, righted himself, managing to spill only a bit of it on his dark clothing.

"It was I who ordered the jug." Svein loudly interposed.  "Please bring it here."

"Oh, yours is coming, sir." Aguda forced a smile to his quivering lips.

 "This is but a complimentary draught for this gentleman while my son fetches his flagon.

"Don't insult our guest!" Yagu felt he must intercede and rushed over to grab the jug from Aguda's hand just before he was about to pour it into the stranger's cup.  He made a pretense of sniffing it. "This is too coarse…our apologies, sir."

 Turning to Aguda he glared, "This is only fit for us, not for such fine gentlemen as our guests.  I'll take it away."

The son then made a timely appearance on the scene with the flagon.  Seeing the seal was unbroken, Yagu relaxed and let the boy pass.  I don't know why I'd worried.  That tightwad would never taint that much wine.

Svein (Nevetsecnuac) disdainfully observed the exchange of looks between the two men, as Aguda held the kitchen door for Yagu.  Nevetsecnuac surmised how; once they were hidden from view, both would be locked in a heated row, with Yagu again obstinately opposing Aguda's diabolical attempt to claim yet another victim.  It was apparent that even his substantial gift to Yagu earlier had not alleviated Aguda's greed enough to deter him from more (acts of) murders.

Meanwhile, the stranger, indifferently, or perhaps unaware of the peril he was in, downed one cup after another in succession, his eyes fixed steadily outside the window.  Only when the flagon was emptied, he angrily pounded the table and howled like a wolf for more.  At once another flagon and the hot meal were rushed to him to calm him down before he brought the whole inn down around him.

Svein delayed his departure, captivated by this most intriguing stranger and, never doubting his prowess, wishing to see how he would deal with this danger.  Naturally Aguda could do little to affect his fiendish plan (scheme) and so, after the safe departure of the stranger, Nevetsecnuac bid his farewells and resumed his lonely trek towards the Capital.

Once more, deliberately choosing the remote, cross-country routes, he relentlessly, for old habits die hard, pushed onwards, taxing the steed's strength to cover great distances. This time, however, an odd sensation of being tracked persistently gnawed at him; yet, each time he looked around, taking the pains to avidly survey his surroundings, he detected nothing (zilch, nil, zero,) out of the ordinary to warrant extra caution.

                                                                                         ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 19)