LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 16

It had been some time since Prince Nevetsecnuac and Alec leading their mounts, had passed through that harrowing subterranean tunnel, thankfully unscathed. Even now, Alec shuddered at the mere thought of it. He had expected it to be less arduous the second time around; in contrast, the capricious horrific incidents and the ensued wearing experience, one in particular, to date had left Alec terribly traumatized and infinitely (markedly) on edge.

  Maddeningly, the Prince had sailed through it all, not in the least bit perturbed by the onslaught of catastrophic events, unleashed by none other than Alec’s steed, and the consequential near-death experiences.

They were trekking outside now braving the elements of a different kind; unfortunately, the precarious shortcut route proved as treacherous for it was the depth of winter at these high altitudes. The ingenious contraptions of footwear with good traction, one of Asger’s clever inventions similar to that of Duan’s, had preserved them, man and mount, from more than once sinking into the depths of snow, or sliding over the terrifying precipices.

 As the wind moaned in their ears, the dense, whirling flakes flailing against their faces, their backs bent to the wind, with their horses' hooves sinking a foot deep through the powdered top layer of snow and into the tightly packed underlying layer, Nevetsecnuac and Alec rarely exchanging a word, incessantly pushed on.

Day after day enduring great hardships and untold dangers while persistently being tested by the cruel, trying forces of nature, they had hurried on to cover great distances and descend a good portion of these dicey (risky, hazardous) high altitudes.

"Perhaps we should have delayed our departure a few more months.” Alec grumbled in a barely audible voice, knowing full well that was not an option.

Nevetsecnuac shook his head and tacitly ejected, “This weather will persist until mid-summer." 

Forcing a smile, Alec nodded and continued to blindly advance into the wall of dancing flakes.  Trailing behind Nevetsecnuac, just as he had once done with Duan, despite his stamina and layers of fur, his body, his limbs yet again became benumbed with ceaseless exertion and cold; he slapped and rubbed his limbs for warmth and pursed his lips to restrain his groans and curses. In an attempt to divert his attention away from the persistent pain Alec focused instead on gauging the extent of Nevetsecnuac’ strength and stamina that spared the prince this torment; as it were, the discovery of few surprising elements earlier on, had persuaded Alec to amend (and postpone) his original intent.

After a grueling month Alec had lost all track of time, with days and nights and ceaseless drudgery of this trek intermingling with the terror of being stalked by ravenous wolves or sporadically attacked by voracious predatory beasts, all blending into one. Competent as he was, being outside of his element, he would have been wasted by the harsh environment or been devoured long ago by the beasts that had persistently, relentlessly dogged (hounded) them. To his chagrin time and again he had been constrained to concede, this certain reliance for his survival, on this very resourceful youth and his feats.

"There is a fierce storm brewing.” Nevetsecnuac stayed his footing just then, (halting,) and after his brief examination of the sky, grunted. “A little while further perhaps then we can stop.” Nevetsecnuac looked at Alec askance (sideways). 

Alec nodded without raising his head. In truth he felt ill at ease, “Was his discomfort that obvious?”

"There is an abandoned cave up ahead in which we can take shelter for the night." 

Under the cloak of white all marks had vanished, meeting Alec's skeptical gaze, Nevetsecnuac grimaced. "Don’t forget, I grew up on these mountains.  As it is we are taking the shortest route possible and should be in the safety of the foothills before long.  Otherwise, it would have taken us until next autumn, to traverse this distance."

Arrogant Alec was inwardly livid, interpreting Nevetsecnuac’s sensible words as disguised mockery, choosing to ignore the actual length of time it had previously taken him and Duan to reach the peaks.

 Latter (prince) might have grown up in these mountains, but it paled next to his grueling combat training   in Capital. Brute force, enduring stamina were only one aspect of the basic requirements; with a certain smugness therefore, Alec dourly pushed forward to advance swiftly. 

That night in the cave, shielded from the elements and warmed by the small fire, they had passed the time in relative comfort and safety.  After ingesting a barely palatable repast Alec, forgoing further exchange and sullenly giving his back to Nevetsecnuac, reclined his head in supposed sleep. Far from it, while his active mind perused through his most viable options; suddenly a fleeting, sardonic (wry) smile dawned on Alec’s lips and soon after he was lost to the world.

 The next morning, Alec seemed more affable towards Nevetsecnuac. What’s more, the remainder of the trek being mindful of Nevetsecnuac’s diffidence and anticipating Nevetsecnuac’s certain misgivings about him, Alec strove to ingratiate himself into Prince’s good graces with his most upright and frank demeanor.  By his consistent sincerity, faithfulness, humility, glib tongue, unfailing generosity, stamina and occasional heroics, by degrees (gradually) he succeeded in winning   Nevetsecnuac over.

 Now an affable travelling companion, on occasion when survival wasn’t paramount, Alec had even regaled Nevetsecnuac with accounts of heroics, adventure and tall tales of intrigue from the capital and far off parts of the Empire, fueling Nevetsecnuac’s imagination with personification and wondrous representations of the quintessence (embodiment of) world he scants knew from books.

 As they conversed to while away the lonely hours of travel, the topic of conversation skimmed over various areas of interest but decidedly rested each time on combat styles and armaments used in battle.

During one such exchange, Alec so as not to be too obvious, declaring his admiration of Lord Asger, tactfully strove to learn the finer points of Lord Asger’s fighting style; assuming that Asger had perfected his skill in martial arts, that of which made him nearly invincible, and had painstakingly passed it on to Nevetsecnuac.  Coveting this rare gift, the ambitious Alec implored Nevetsecnuac to instruct him on the finer points, whenever they took time out to rest.

"It is my life's desire, my duty to my father, to Lord Shonne Gulbrand and to you, my Prince, to be the best I can be, so that when the day comes, I may better assist our cause in battle.", he reasoned.  "For this, you must not begrudge me the benefit of your instruction, your Highness.  I've waited too long, all my life to be exact, for the day of vengeance and justice."  A note of indignation never failed to be infused into these genuine sounding requests.

Already missing his morning   exercises with Asger, Nevetsecnuac eventually acquiesced to Alec's wishes.

The addition of intense martial exercises wedged (jammed) between the grueling duration of trek, made the days and weeks pass more quickly, until finally, they, leaving behind the snowcapped mountains, reached foothills where temperatures were more moderate. 

They rode on extended periods with more ease now, oftentimes spurring their steeds into full gallop and sporadically (occasionally) racing for sport, while covering great distances.  And even though Alec’s horse repeatedly came second in every competition with the spirited (feisty) Fiery Comet, Alec’s amicability, his buoyancy and ardor never faltered.  

On these more temperate grounds, with the more frequent cloud-filled azure skies, warmer temperatures and thawing ground, it all attested to the approaching of spring.  Patches of green or brown appeared here and there on the slopes. Even a few tiny buds could be seen peeking out from the crevices, wedged between the icicles on the rock’s face.

Once, at a brief respite, bending to pick up a frail, purple flower, Alec gave a brief, admiring gaze, took a whiff of its raw fragrance then grounded it mercilessly to a soggy pulp in his hand.  His fingers and palms, steeped in the wild perfume, were stained purple with the flower's blood. With a distant, strange expression Alec hissed incomprehensibly.

Nevetsecnuac could only make out the words, "father", and "the villain must die.” 

With an uneasy feeling Nevetsecnuac’s eyes trailed Alec’s slow progression till he disappeared behind some bushes, presumably to relieve himself. On his return, with a somber countenance Alec set himself across from Nevetsecnuac.

Presently Alec appeared to have something grave on his mind, an urgent plight that was being forcefully constrained; after a dismissive shrug however, he abruptly rose and went to check in on his horse. Always respectful of another’s privacy, Nevetsecnuac chose to overlook these rare vacillating moods of Alec’s, deeming them to be just apprehension and understandable angst and disquiet stemming from impatience of reaching their set destination in time.

Subsequent days, the rocky, uneven ground, the enchanting yet precarious topography with deadly traps, constrained them to once more advance on foot. Neither of them minded this too much, for it also gave them the chance to discuss, compare and to exchange various views. Presently, as the sun's unobstructed rays bathed them in a shimmering, golden light that warmly caressed their faces, sounds of the gurgling of brooks and rivulets of melted snow and ice came from seemingly everywhere, flooding their ears.

 It was a truly spectacular warm morning that would have gladdened the weariest of hearts; but then that afternoon without warning, the rising, gusting winds whipped up the dark clouds overhead.

 The sun now in hasty retreat, the earth became gloomy, and its former gay tunes were drowned by somber whimpers and ominous drums.  There was no room for mercy in the incessant downpour that followed: its thrashing winds and rolling thunder shook all the hills around them. In the shrouding mists and pelting, wind-driven rain, Nevetsecnuac and Alec soaked to the skin, plodded (trod) mechanically, along the muddy, slushy, winding paths.

 Stopping only at night fall at a makeshift shelter, they ate some dried rations, oftentimes slept standing snuggled up to their mount for warmth or slept sitting up backs propped against some rock or tree-trunk, and then at first daylight they resumed their journey. In this way they had ridden out the storm that had lasted on and off, with persistent winds and overcast skies, for several dismal days.

 

                                                                                    ~

 

It was quite some time before the sun’s rays had again graced the earth.  Anew, the hard ground invited Nevetsecnuac and Alec to ride in gallop. By then having reached the emerald, green flat plains, carpeted in flowers, their hearts filled with renewed anticipation, they spurred their horses to cover once more vast distances.  The incessant ride halted only when darkness enveloped the earth. As they were still far removed from the nearest dwelling, they made a camp at the edge of the densely wooded area skirting a good size lake. Finding a suitable spot, sheltered from the full fury of the elements, they tethered the horses, washed up, and then quickly consumed some sustenance.  Drained (exhausted) from the day’s strenuous ride, they propped their weary backs against sturdy trees and under the canopy of the moon and stars with the earth as their mat, they closed their eyes, finally, for that well-earned sleep.

In that dream state, Nevetsecnuac saw himself fetching some more firewood at dawn, which he promptly deposited inside the cabin, then went out to wash up by the creek. His uncle was there already, finishing up.

“You are being too remiss!” At once Stark (Lord Asger) sternly admonished him. “Danger abounds, you must remain at all times, on your guard!”

Suddenly he heard a wild ruckus coming from the stables, as there was an alarm raised by Fiery Comet, stomping and neighing. Dropping everything, in haste both, Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and Stark (Lord Asger) darted towards it to investigate.

At this juncture, Nevetsecnuac was awakened with a start and saw the blade of Alec Therkan poised over him in readiness to strike.  Reacting swiftly, Nevetsecnuac adroitly twisted to one side and the sword with a loud thwack clove the tree trunk instead.  Rolling over, Nevetsecnuac nimbly grabbed his sword just in time to dexterously block Alec's next deadly strike.

"Have you gone mad?” Nevetsecnuac shouted at him in bewilderment and sudden rage.  

Alec, his eyes glinting with murder, derisively jeered through his gritted teeth,

"Don't call me 'Alec'.  The traitor Taok Therkan died childless years ago at his own father's hand." 

 

(END OF SECTION 16)

(NEXT POST- SECTION 17- THE CONCLUSION OF THE ASSASSINS)

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 12

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 12

Stark’s (Asger's) thoughts now flew to Kundrick, the frail boy who had always sat without stirring at the back of the room for the duration of each day's lesson.  From the beginning   Asger had taken a liking to this shy, well-behaved boy who had appeared so serious, so grown up.

01- KUNDRICK DUFO

Asger had frequently pressed on him small toys or rare sweets but each time, after a polite thank you, Kundrick had, with admirable reserve, held on to the item until after the classes had ended and he gained his father's permission to keep the trinket. 

When his father had been taken away in chains the little boy had stood stiffly by, hands clenched at his side, bravely resisting any tears.  Of course, he would remember such a remarkable little boy well.  But then the struggle against Zakhertan Yozdek changed everything.

So, this was what had become of Kundrick! Asger mused, seeing no reason to doubt this segment of Alec’s accounts and presently wondered if his esteemed tutor Sorgun Dufo had lived to see his son's great accomplishments.

"The time has long been ripe for an open confrontation on a major scale to topple this present evil regime, My Lord."  Alec had just then startled Asger from his brief reverie. "Now, when the general assault starts under the leadership of the rightful Prince, other scattered pockets of resistance will join in and swell the ranks of the main army.  With such numbers the insurgent force will become invincible.”

"For this to happen, however, the timely appearance of the prince is a requisite, and of course,” Alec pausing, grinned wryly, "this can only be accomplished with your Lordship's assistance.  You alone, Lord Shonne Gulbrand has told us, know the true Prince's whereabouts."  Alec burrowed his anxious stare into Stark (Asger) and waited with bated breath for his response.

As Asger (Stark) had listened, inwardly he had been burdened with serious quandary. Tempting as all Alec’s accounts were, caution would not allow Asger to take them at face value and lay his total trust in Alec.  Although Alec’s accounts were most elaborate, and precise and some of it had already been verified by his trustworthy contacts over the years; still a good portion of it was unconfirmed. Moreover, despite his claim, Alec and Duan have clearly not achieved this remarkable feat without the benefit of added support.  Somewhere waiting in the wings could be a militia poised to strike on cue.

The absence of any intel from Heaven’s Gate Temple, for an unusual length of time, meanwhile, had been another grave concern for Asger (Stark). Consequently, Asger could not tell with measure of certainty, had no way of knowing how much damaging info had already been (relayed) leaked.

There was only one recourse however, to uncovering this ploy, as dangerous as that may be; but then again, if he were to go along, he would be sending Svein to a certain perilous danger. Is Svein competent enough to overcome it?   If not now, when?  If only he (Asger) had not been burdened by the security and wellbeing of Teuquob and the twins; he would have gladly accompanied Svein on this escapade, till the truth unfolded.

In the end Asger (Stark) decided to proceed, albeit with caution, to the end of this most dangerous game.

Alec’s outward composure and sincerity lapsing (failing) temporarily, he with unease shifted his body; in truth, he was fast losing his patience. What more could he say or do to bring about the desired result? His head throbbed with all that exertion; he felt inexplicably fatigued, yet his stubborn nature would not allow him to yield to the temptation of sleep. Meanwhile, even though Asger had seemingly concurred with Alec's latest arguments concerning   the prince, his eagerly awaited disclosure of the whereabouts, maddeningly so, was not forthcoming.

 “You have claimed that the two of you had acted alone; but usurper’s spies are numerous, how can I be ascertained you were not shadowed, albeit unknowingly, to this region (and to this mountain)?” Asger eventually spoke up after his prolonged consideration, even though he knew what the answer would be.

“Duan was the very best in his profession; he would have flushed them out in no time. As it were, he left a bloody trail in his wake. But that aside,” Alec chewed his upper lip, as he considered, then quickly decided against mentioning   the murder of those two monks. But then he committed another grave error. “There was an incident, I failed to report, my Lord; it may or may not have any pertinence to your respective concern.”

 “Oh?” Asger waited to hear more.

“After our stay at the ‘Heaven’s Gate Temple’, we came under pernicious attack by unspecified group of assassins, Duan wiped them out of course, and I can say with measure of certainty, that there was no such incidence after that.” 

As Alec did not know why the falcons were felled, he’d decided not to touch on that subject.  “It might have been secret messages from Duan’s contacts. Who’s to know; now that the villain was dead?”

“I can assure you Duan, with his conceit, felt no need for any backup; he tolerated my presence only just, perhaps it amused him to have me tag along. Even so, I sensed that he planned to do away with me no sooner than he’d accomplished his task. Furthermore, I venture a guess, the subterranean tunnel in all these years has been an effective deterrent, has it not? So yes, I can say with measure of certainty, that there has not been any breach (violation) to your respective security.” 

Unaware of his grave blunder Alec again stressed.  “I would like nothing better than to spend couple days recovering my Lord, but my conscience would not permit me. Time has come for the swift, effective action, as we are finally in position to do so now.  I again wish to remind you, my Lord, of the urgency of our situation and the serious consequences should Zakhertan  Yozdek's men reach the Prince first!”

Asger (Stark), bearing a strange expression, turned his sharp eyes to Alec and dourly asked, "So, that is your most immediate desire is it, to learn of the prince’s whereabouts?"

"May I trouble you to do so, my Lord?” Alec replied anxiously with a nod and then cast a quick glance at Svein who had his head down and seemingly was lost in deep contemplation.

By his reluctance, he is confirming my suspicions to be true; but how could this be?  After all, was not this youth by his own admission at the tavern, a good four-year senior to the lost Prince?

 Upon a second reflection, a wry smile registered on his lips. Fool the truth has been staring at you in the face all along, only you were too blinded to see it.

Despite his arrogance, a failing of his, he had to concede, the ingested potions had dulled his senses somewhat. Unbidden, anger gripped his heart, and he further admonished himself, thinking he could have spared himself all this affront difficulty and debasing.

Alec again snuck appraising glances at Svein as if seeing him for the very first time. But then, I would have missed out on this golden opportunity of meeting Lord Asger.  He then consoled himself.

He knows yet insists on playing this farce to the end. Asger was suddenly overcome with fatigue.  He had his own Demons to conquer. Blasted medicines…I wish I had not taken them earlier; no anecdote would wipe away the adverse effects till morrow.

“It is rather late, how about we retire for the night, and tomorrow at first light we can continue where we’d left off.” Asger, for the time being putting aside his misgivings, outwardly proposed.

Svein absently nodded, as he was sorting things out in his head.

Alec bit his lip to constrain his outburst. Stubborn old fox what further proof can I furnish to win your trust; oh, have it your way, I do feel rather exhausted, and a brief respite will do me good.  

Alec, on the outset appearing most agreeable, bid his good night to the two and watched them close the barn door securely behind them.

He had every intention of, after a brief rest, doing some reconnaissance; but no sooner that he reclined (tilted back) his body in his makeshift bed on the floor, than against his will, he immediately fell into deep, deep slumber.

                                                               ~

 

(END OF SECTION 12)

 

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 11

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 11

 

Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon, true to his word, in the ensuing months had spared no expense in the effort of exonerating Sorgun Dufo.

Before long the news reached them that Lord Wutenzar’s able men, through their persistence and prodding, through bribes dispensed covertly, and despite the fact that Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon had no jurisdiction or influence in Fukken province, had brought down the barriers of stiff opposition to finally uncover the hidden facts (evidence) pertaining to this case.  What's more they had managed to procure irrefutable proof of Sorgun's innocence and used this to force the local authorities to reopen the investigation.

It so happened that Sorgun's father, Kerek, in his shame, had indeed forced his daughter-in-law Linnsar to commit suicide then, after writing a letter of confession and begging forgiveness from Sorgun which he left in his study to be discovered, had taken his own life with one cut to the throat.

 Fortunately for Sorgun the trusted Steward Alec, who had discovered the bodies when Minakos came to call the next day, managed through his quick wit and sharp eye, to sneak a peek at the contents of the letter over Minakos’s shoulder as latter broke the seal and read it.

The Steward Alec had been constrained however, perhaps out of fear, to keep his tongue when Minakos with his false exclamation (shriek), declared that the content had pertained to him and that it had only been about an insignificant, trivial matter- then crumbled it and cast it into the fire.

 

01- ESQUIRE MINAKOS VIDART

The ambitious Minakos, seizing this rare, golden opportunity, from then on had conspired to buttress an ironclad case against his own nephew Sorgun, who had disappeared, to convict him of many grievous crimes, foremost being patricide.

 With his suspicious nature Minakos had kept the steward in line with his close scrutiny and insinuated threats as he spread damaging rumors (hearsay) and bogus accusations same time planted incriminating evidence to support his fabricated version of the events leading up to the now perceived case of multiple murders and abduction.

Rumors fanned by Minakos' hirelings spread quickly far and wide, that Sorgun in a jealous rage, had killed them both and kidnapped his own son, legitimate next beneficiary, as a hostage to be used if he was threatened.

At the corrupted inquest Minakos' testimony directing all blame towards Sorgun was corroborated by others who he had surreptitiously bribed or intimidated.  As they dragged Sorgun's name through the mud he quickly became the most hated, despised criminal in the history of the Fukken province.

 Leaving nothing to chance, Minakos bribed many of the key officials to exert influence on the Magistrate Kokos to pronounce the appropriate guilty verdict despite the absence of the accused. 

02- MAGISTRATE KEKOS

Aside from covertly hiring a number of experienced thugs to comb the province and assassinate his nephew, Minakos Vidart so far as to lavish rare gifts on the provincial Governor Toku, under the pretext of asking, as the future head of the Dufo clan, his invaluable help in quickly putting an end to this shameful, scandalous episode.

 The underlying motives of this request had positively confirmed the Governor's suspicions about this case, but he pretended to consider the matter further to extract more benefit from Minakos.  In fact, Toku had carefully weighed the untold rewards he could reap from granting the incumbent Esquire his wish against the unlikely repercussions of enacting such an irregular procedure.

 In the end, when he deemed, he had wrung enough out of Minakos, he had reluctantly agreed to turn a blind eye to justice and pressured Magistrate Kokos to forgo the normal procedures and expeditiously wrap up the case.

The indignant steward Alec, having served the clan practically all his days, out of fear for his life and with nowhere else to go had swallowed this great injustice done to the rightful heir of Esquire Kerek Dufo and, painful as it was, maintained his silence.

03 -STEWARD ALEC

 At the inquest Alec was further   constrained to mechanically parrot the slanderous, erroneous accounts leading up to multiple murders, as dictated to him by Minakos.  He'd sporadically choked on the words but delivered them just the same, then Minakos Vidart on to serving his new, shrewd master, who had readily seized all power and had assumed the title of Esquire even before the case was settled.

 The steward's fear of Minakos was so great that it took a great deal of persuading and reasoning   by Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon's agents to get at the truth.  When Sorgun surrendered and was placed in custody, Alec had retracted his former testimony at the retrial under Magistrate Kokos and moreover confessing to his impropriety (misconduct), revealed the true contents of the letter Minakos had destroyed.

This, however, instead of clearing Sorgun, was quickly overturned as it had been the case with other submitted irrefutable evidence as dubious dispositions. Esquire Minakos' supporters arguing the case successfully had the steward's testimony thrown out, discredited as hearsay from a presumably deranged mind, overwrought as he was proclaimed to have been by the tragic loss of his former master.

 On top of that, Alec was accused of now maligning   his present master because of his recent chastisement over a rather despicable, of course fabricated, incident.  The Magistrate, however, had seemingly shown leniency in view of the steward's insanity and passed a sentence of only ninety hard strokes for Alec’s false deposition in court and had him sent away.  Shortly afterwards, the steward's sudden, suicidal death was pronounced as a matter-of-factly at court as just recrimination.

Meanwhile, Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon on his way to the Capital Channing, was apprised of the developments in Fukken province through his fast couriers and able spies.  Reaching the Capital, the Lord's first initiative had been to directly petition the Metropolitan Censorate to appoint an independent commission to oversee Sorgun Dufo's case, pointing out the irregularities and the gross miscarriages of justice in its handling.  Being bogged down with more pressing issues, however, the Censorate underestimated the depth of the corruption, summarily ordered the Provincial Governor Toku Neron, to investigate the case once more.

04- PROVINCIAL GOVERNOR TOKU NERON

 The Governor Toku Neron, who had pressed for the previous judgment even in the absence of the accused, simply went through the motions instructing the Yeko Prefecture to conduct a new investigation.  On the sly, Toku lost no time in informing Esquire Minakos of the pesky interference of Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon and demanded the Esquire use his ample resources and part of the vast fortune now at his disposal to do a more thorough job on the (conspiracy) cover-up.  Meanwhile, in view of the petition and newly presented evidence, the death sentence on Sorgun was temporarily postponed until the successful conclusion of this third judicial inquiry.

Esquire Minakos' sources in (Imperial Capital) Channing had all independently confirmed these dangerous developments; furthermore, they had unilaterally reported the Lord's unyielding persistence and his relentless stand on this issue.  Every avenue had been exhausted, they claimed, but Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon could neither be bribed nor intimidated. 

Esquire Minakos' tentacles reached far and wide, right into the very jail in which Sorgun languished.  Still, he could do very little to harm the scholar, let alone stage another suicide, as Sorgun had been, from the first, closely guarded by the Lord's competent men.  Neither could Minakos, despite his best efforts, reach the child Kundrick to inflict injury or kidnap him to hold as hostage to break Sorgun's defiant will.

Esquire MInakos did the next best thing and, by once more underhandedly dispensing generous bribes, had gotten Nuer of Yeko prefecture to collude with the Magistrate Kokos.  They both simultaneously submitted another detailed report stating that no injustice had been done; in fact, there were no irregularities whatsoever in the case under review.  Furthermore, pretending that it had just been obtained, they had furnished their report with more indisputable proof and had asked that, without any further delay, the Magistrate to be allowed to mete out justice to the guilty party.

When word reached the Lord through a good friend that the Censorate was now considering overturning   the Lord's protests, Lord Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon at once wielded his power and influence to secure an audience with, and promptly memorialized, the Throne. 

This time, armed with all the proof exposing the most recent dirty dealings of Esquire Minakos, the Governor General, Provincial Governor Toku, Prefect Nuer and Magistrate Kokos and the whole host of others, he proposed that the Board of Punishments intervene directly.  His proposal was accepted.

Chinzo Doken, the Minister of Punishments, took personal charge of this most grievous matter.  After reviewing all the documents and submitted pertinent evidence, old and new, Chinzo Doken became duly concerned at the apparent widespread corruption in Fukken Province.

 It so happened that the central government had been for some time considering the appointment of a Commission to expose the bad elements which were sapping, crippling the strength of the nation. 

The courtiers advocating change jumped at the opportunity to exploit this case and pushed for more severe measures and tighter controls to make the border provinces more accountable to the central government.

 All involved were, without exception, summoned to the Imperial Capital to be interrogated at length by the Grand Council with the cooperation of the Board of Punishments.

Since murder was at the root of this matter, it was decided that, in order to get at the true facts, the only alternative was an autopsy on the deceased. 

So, after an internment of nearly four years, the corpses of Esquire Kerek Dufo and his daughter-in-law Linnsar Dufo were exhumed and brought to Capital Channing for a second, more thorough, examination.

Fortunately, due to the arid, cold climate of Fukken Province, the bodies were remarkably well preserved.

05- MINISTER OF PUNISHMENT, CHINZO DOKEN

The autopsy was conducted under the watchful gaze of Minister Chinzo Doken and his competent assistants.  A careful, rather fastidious examination by the coroners took into consideration the angle of the cuts as well as the previously overlooked minor lacerations, bruises and internal injuries.  Their findings tallied perfectly with the facts as related by Sorgun.  Their report concluded that Esquire Kerek Dufo and his daughter-in-law Linnsar Dufo's deaths were both due to self-inflicted wounds, therefore a suicide.  Sorgun's innocence was established once and for all.

When the Grand Council and the officials on the Board of Punishments cross examined Esquire Minakos Dufo, Governor Toku, Prefect Nuer, Magistrate Kokos and the rest they all, after being subjected to torture and interrogated at length, one by one pleaded guilty and confessed to their part in this grievous conspiracy. 

All were severely punished, jailed for life, demoted, stripped of office or exiled after confiscation of their property according to the degree of their involvement in the crime.  This, in one stroke, rooted out (purged, eradicated) the long existing corruption in Fukken Province.

Minakos, for tampering with evidence, and murder of the steward Alec as well as his purposeful manipulation and misdirecting of the facts, perjury, intimidation, extortion, bribery and corruption of government officers among a host of charges, received extreme due punishment.

In the public square of Fukken Province he was quartered by four oxen.  His immediate family, consisting of his wife, Dijek, daughter Mirek aged seven, and son Enkaz aged three years were stripped of all wealth and power, given the tattoo of the criminal on their left cheek, then, with only the clothes on their back and a bag of dry grain, were driven out of Fukken Province then Wenjenkun forever.

Soon after being entirely exonerated, Sorgun was re- installed in his rightful position in Fukken Province.

                                                                                  ~

 

(END OF SECTION 11)

 

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 2

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 2

Brandt, returning   to his quarters in exalted spirits a brief time later, was surprised to find Duan seated on the bed fully clothed, carefully wiping his blade clean.  When Brandt   advanced towards him to tell of his findings, something in Duan's demeanor told him that, the other (Duan) already knew. Yet, how could he?

Refusing to believe what his brain was telling him; Brandt   parted his lips to speak. Instantly the words froze on his tongue however, when Duan briefly stayed his hand and ejected coldly, "You were careless to have spared them."

DUAN

"What? Have you, but how?” Brandt   asked in bewilderment, now noting the blood-soaked rag in Duan's hand.

Duan snorted in disgust and went on with his cleaning.

Brandt   meanwhile curtailing the feeling of derision and dread that had suddenly overtaken him, walked over to the dressing table that divided the two beds. From a jar he poured out some water into a cup and took a swig to quench his sudden thirst.

 Then with a disdainful air, going over, he sat at the edge of his bed, inwardly seething with rage and, cogitating, questioning the air on how long Duan had been at the scene. Concealed by the night’s shadows, he had witnessed it all, passing judgment on him with those condescending eyes or being entertained by his no doubt deemed soft-hearted approach and incompetence. Then the moment his (Brandt’s) back was turned, the cold-blooded assassin had, without thought to repercussions, struck again, leaving a bloody trail in his wake.

He threw a cursory glance at Duan; the latter was lost in a world of his own. It was as if Brandt   did not exist at all. He only shared his space; Brandt   was a mere trifle, an insignificant bug, a pest to be tolerated.

For how long, that remained to be seen.

Still, Brandt knew by instinct, that Duan would not strike, not till the task was completed. Pending that time, Brandt was resolved to endure all the scorn and mockery and allow Duan to bask in his superiority.

 

After a while when the task (of cleaning) was complete Duan, putting his sword away, reclined with his head on the pillow and closed his eyes in respite, leaving Brandt   still seated at the edge of the bed with countless unanswered questions.

Duan’s mind, currently, briefly took stock of the evening’s activities, before succumbing to sleep:

 “As far back as he could recall he had always possessed a most remarkably retentive memory. On this night, his initial (preliminary) probe within the restricted area of Sacristy, beyond Scroll- rooms and so-called libraries, had been a wasted effort. But then his subsequent, successful breach of the impenetrable vault at the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn’s private residence had been, rather, fruitful.”

Duan shifted his body slightly as he tallied up the abundant pertinent information, far more than anticipated, at present cramming his brain. “It was all laid bare in those secreted scrolls- meticulously chronicled lists and countless subversive activities, courtesy of the Abbot, undoubtedly registered for posterity, in that laughable cryptic form.”

“A most definite noose around their necks; but why log such deleterious proof?”

With a wry grin he shook his head. “Men’s arrogance has always been their undoing. Admittedly, some of the past conspiracies had been extraordinary, bordering on genius, superb feats that had furthered their cause.  The accounts of scheduled drops, the elaborate network of men, each knowing only so much, going only so far, all carefully designed to ensure anonymity. That is why this brilliant organization, the perfect scheme to sustain the Traitor and the other, had thus far eluded for over twenty years or so, all the expanded efforts of the emperor, the local governments, secret agents and countless assassins and more.”

A contemptible, sinister smile briefly brushed his lips. “This den of loyalists will duly be extinguished when first the other more important matter is settled.” He snorted.

“He was close, he could sense it.”

In truth he had been looking forward to the impending mortal combat with the infamous Lord. 

That at least had a certain promise of thrill, a feat that had been so hard to attain lately as no other quite measured up to his competence (martial aptitude). He, nevertheless, quickly stifled his perverse ardor.

 “At present he had left things at the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn’s residence and private compound just as they were, (seemingly) untouched. Nothing will warn them of the violation.”

Duan’s thoughts reverting to Brandt, for a brief spell he inwardly wondered “how much longer he would have to nursemaid this utter fool, who almost foiled his plans. Still, it was a minor inconvenience, nothing serious to be reckoned with; in fact, it served his purpose well.”

Duan inwardly scowled, as he ruminated (cogitated) on how he had disposed of the dismembered bodies in the most ingenious places; these parts would not be discovered till long after their departure of this abominable den of traitors.

 A fleeting baleful leer registered (materialized) on his hard face, as he envisioned the certain future bedlam and the ruffling of those preen feathers of the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn’s.

“But that too would fall well within his plans. When a certain message of warning is dispatched by means of falcon or such, he would be at the ready then to intercept and to take full account of the direction. It would lead him directly to his prey, far quicker still. “

Already bored by the unvaried nature of things and their predictable outcome, Duan was about to drift into blissful sleep, when "Brother, should we not be taking our leave now?” Brandt’s cantankerous query violated the quiet of the room.

Receiving no response, Brandt   swallowed his rage and frustration, went over, and snuffed out the lamp, then still fully dressed noisily threw his body onto the bed. Though he too closed his eyes, sleep averted him and even after several hours of turning, tossing, and trying to make sense to himself his aggravation refused to diminish.

 In pitch darkness where imagined silhouettes danced (bopped) in the air, Brandt   again asked a question, "Brother, where did you dump the bodies?"  But gallingly, the eerie silence persisted.

Matching his inner mood, the room’s stifling air grew to be unbearably more confining, yet despite his discomfort, Brandt   refused to divest himself of his clothes and lay on the bed as is for the rest of the night, nursing a grievance, fuming and trying to anticipate Duan's next move.

 He did not know how, but he must have fallen asleep for, just before dawn he was violently shaken awake by Duan, who then rudely informed him that they were about to take their leave.

Brandt   sprang to his feet at once and hastily began gathering his baggage. Duan had already headed out the door. "Wait up, brother,” Brandt   had scant time to shout, before he too following suit, darted out the door after Duan.

Along the way curious thoughts plagued Brandt’s mind and, soon after, suspicious ones supplanted it (took root). “Why did Duan even bother to wake me up? Why had he not taken his leave, abandoning me to answer for the consequences of his vile deed, unless he has further use for me? But once the task is completed and I have become expandable, what then? Ha, that is what he thinks!”

Brandt   scoffed angrily, grinding his teeth. “We will see who'll snuff out whom in the end!”

Brandt   had hastened so much to catch up with Duan that pearls of perspiration now gathered on his brow despite the frigid morning air.  The stable hands were disgruntled at being aroused so early from their sleep, since the first rays of light had not yet reached the earth, but they dared not voice their discontent to Duan and wiping the sleep from their eyes, complied with Duan’s wishes, grumbling under their breath as they did.

Brief time later, Brandt   and Duan were seen bidding the monks a curt farewell, then holding the bridles of their horses, inaudibly (noiselessly) exiting the guest compounds and the main area. 

They passed through the just opened gates, under watchful eyes of sentry that curiously enough did not venture to question or hinder their clearly impetuous departure. Because the winding path leading from the gate was too steep to negotiate on horseback, they descended the slopes on foot, silent and self-absorbed, engulfed by that tense, eerie (somber) atmosphere, gradually diminishing in size till they were nothing more than specks in that hostile region.

Once the Temple was completely out of sight Brandt, unable to contain his curiosity (prying), yet again inquired after the fate of the two unfortunate monks.  Even then he had to ask Duan thrice before the latter finally consented to give his response.

Brandt’s blood curdled as he listened to the gory details which Duan now callously embellished. Brandt   could not conceal his involuntary shudder, ascertained now more than ever that he was riding alongside (beside) a monster, a creature devoid of (least moral conscience or conduct,) any mercy or remorse who had dared do such vile things to men of the cloth.

The resulting end was the drawn-out boisterous laughter from Duan which pierced Brandt’s ears and further grated his nerves. Brandt   sullenly looked away and bit hard on his upper lip to constrain his bursting fury so as not to compound latter’s perverse satisfaction.

                                                                                    ~

 

Meanwhile back at the Monastery, Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn had been given the full report pertaining to Brandt Dustin and Duan’s last night’s activities and their hasty, early departure.

MONK KEIR

Monk Keir was irked at having to give his report of failure. Especially since he could not rightly say how he had lost the surveillance on Duan. One moment he was there, the next instant he had disappeared from plain sight. Keir had been assigned to this task because of his proficiency (special expertise), yet he’d failed and failed miserably.  Reading scant clues, he had searched high and low, but Duan’s trace could not be had anywhere; then suddenly after an appreciable amount of time just as mysteriously, Duan had appeared back in his quarters. There was no accounting for his activities, save for that bloody sword that did not bode well at all.

Shingue had done better with his assignment and reported Brandt’s exchange with the monks Fayet and Muro in detail.

After their dismissal, Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn with his hands clasped behind his back, paced the length of the room to and from in complete silence, before sitting himself down with an apparent grave heart.

His trusted assistant Prior Skceno waited with due patience for Boqast Tizanzenn to speak. His own reports were just as grim, and he hated adding to his Eminence’s troubles.

“True, Muro’s cover had been blown right from the start, but his life was spared, and so did not fall prey to some accident of sorts, as it served them well to use Muro as counterintelligence without his knowing. They had allowed Muro to make certain observations and send on his reports, on regular basis (intervals) to Capital; only midway these were interrupted and scrutinized, revised then altered to appear significant yet altogether harmless intelligence to their cause.”

“They had perfected the forging of his handwriting so well that Muro himself would not be the wiser if he were ever to be confronted by (or asked to give account for) these. He was also secretly permitted to pursue his passion for inebriation as it kept him out of trouble. Lately, however, he had been more persistent with his espionage, undercover work, call it a hunch, and decidedly more determined to expose suspected proscribed activities within the monastery.  Yet after this length of time, he could not be dismissed or openly discarded without raising undue suspicion from the Department of Internal Security. Now this problem was resolved for them.” He winced when the newly (brief time ago) uncovered gruesome images intruded into his brain and he quickly pushed it aside.

“The vile assassin Duan had to have been dispatched from the Capital also, but he would be dealt with, long before he gained the chance to boast of his wicked (debauched) accomplishments.” Again, it took serious mental constraint to dissipate those disturbing images and focus his attention instead, on the matter at hand.

“The concealment must be precise and absolute.”  Skceno nodded resolutely, pursing his lips.  “Then in a few months’ time, long after the funeral and scattering of ashes, when in an annual report to the Census bureau, the deaths of Fayet and Muro are disclosed to the authorities, in preparation for the sure to be subtle inquiry, the carefully fabricated versions of their sudden demise would have to be already inserted into their personnel records, something believable and mundane, such as a fatal accident (result of a rock/mud slide) or an illness.”

PRIOR SKCENO

Skceno would not rule out the possibility of an insect bite or tainted medicinal concoction. He thoughtfully looked away. “The latter would be a more apt cause, as Muro always dabbled in these arts.”

“Subsequently, an ideal replacement would be sent from the Capital; an excellent candidate amidst the pious few that aspired to join this monastery. He must be on the lookout for that also. For the time being, he absently nodded. I shall omit rather, postpone the horrid, grisly aspects of their slaughter (murder) and instead broach the subject in a more equable light to his Holiness (Grace).”

Skceno’s intent was temporarily stymied however, by Boqast Tizanzenn’s sudden, concerned exclamation. “I cannot rightly put it,” he begun, “for there is no specific proof, no clear indication, least sign (mark) of tampering of the vault, yet I am of the opinion, my personal records have been somewhat violated, examined (or skimmed) by an unsanctioned, unscrupulous being!”

“But how can that be, Your Eminence, even I, your most trusted advisor and assistant, don’t know of the whereabouts or combination of such?”  With certain tact, he had abstained from outwardly mentioning the word vault.

“Yet there had been an intrusion, I’m certain of it!” Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn looked grave, almost angry.

“And it’s not hard to guess who?” He fell silent, pondering on his next course of action.

“Judging by the intelligence they had gathered; he could anticipate the target of the assassins’ dogged pursuit. As failsafe, he could covertly send men after them, but even before this, he must send word, to warn Stark of this imminent peril. Hmmmmm?”

 

                                                                 ~

 

(END OF SECTION 2)