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 RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 17

Resisting the urge to go outside, Hugen leaned his back against the wall and after exhaling a long breath, in an even tone he began with: “Meanwhile, Zakhertan Yozdek’s attentions were directed elsewhere to other regions where more profitable gains could be had.”

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (10) JP

“All the while millions were conscripted from all parts of Wenjenkun and the (other subjugated) auxiliary regions; many physically fit men and adolescent males were pressed into military service while women, scholars or the infirm were forced into the labor camps Zakhertan created to construct the mammoth projects he envisioned for his capital.”

“Hills were razed, channels were dug, and reservoirs built to multiply agricultural production in former deserts and, of course, grand palaces were commissioned in all four corners of the Kingdom. All the while families were uprooted and relocated to the remote regions of Wenjenkun he wanted populated.  The upshot of all of this, the costly expeditions, the grand schemes, despite the plunder he amassed, had still very nearly bankrupted the State Treasury in Channing.”

"Seen in this light, the subjugation of Korion was considered a serious liability and a definite unproductive drain on their economy.  It was deemed clearly pointless, for Wenjenkun to maintain its present tight rein (leash) on the deemed barbaric race that, could not be tamed and required mounting expenditures all for the facade (pretence, sham, deceit) of keeping it within Wenjenkun's civil guidelines. Happily, our point had been driven home well and good.  From all corners of the Kingdom (Wenjenkun) petitions regularly poured in, the writers knowingly risking pain of death, protesting the continuing military presence in Korion.  They acknowledged that our country bred the finest stock of horses, was endowed with precious gemstones of the finest quality, as well, had much required (needed) minerals and useful metals in quantity; yet despite the hefty annual tribute of these items flowing into Channing, it was costing Wenjenkun (government and administration) still more dearly to maintain scant, minimal control over this unforgiving, unruly region.  Their ministers argued the point that, the National Interests would be best served with more frugal allocation of their resources and by the deployment of armies (and military personnel) to other regions (countries) where more feasible and more advantageous returns could be had.”

"As it was, Zakhertan Yozdek urgently needed to composite another invincible military force, in order to conquer the Mokuzers at that time and, already having gained his revenge against our Lord and people, he was disposed to allow such criticism.  By this time Zakhertan's arrogance and megalomania had reached its (apex) zenith and, when presented with the petition in the Great Zonggotu Hall, he was recorded as having said, "Well, if this grubbing race of barbarians can resurrect a single Royal pedigree (lineage) to rule them, I’ll permit it; Korion then may, within reason, have whatever autonomy they can muster."  He of course had been certain (quite convinced) that there were none of the Royal line left alive to take up the reign of power in Korion.”

"Unknown to him, there was indeed one who had escaped his evil carnage."  Patiently Hugen explained, " Sometime prior, the youngest sister of His Highness the late Harkan Konzuran Binchan, Princess Jenor, as the tribal custom demanded, had been entrusted to chieftain Kureshi Nokuzuk’s care, to be brought up from the age of ten till she reached the age of seventeen, by which time she was to be wed to Yeru, the third son (for the first son was too old and already married, and the second son already dead, succumbed to an accident) of the powerful tribal chieftain Kureshi Nokuzuk, in order to ensure a lasting peace with this fierce nomadic race to the North.“

02- TRIBAL CHIEFTAIN KURESHI NOKUZUK

 “After this alliance had been struck, all hostilities and border incursions in the northern sector had of course ceased and, this peace has lasted to date. “Hugen pensively nodded, then almost imperceptibly (subtly) the corners of his mouth lifted in a grimace (smirk). “Anyhow, this well-kept secret, Princess Jenor, the sole surviving member of the Royal Binchan Clan, was a legendary beauty. After Princess Jenor and Yeru’s nuptials, Princess Jenor in time had born two daughters who rivaled her in fairness, and a brilliant son, Yoshikan.  Here’s were things gets interesting: This male offspring (with Binchan royal bloodline) was promptly recalled to Korion to claim his rightful place as Sovereign of our country.”

“The Chieftain Kureshi Nokuzuk, for obvious reasons, raised no real objections to the recall, and even if Yeru had any qualms, I dare say that his opinions were quickly overridden by Kureshi, to the greater benefit of all.  And so it came to pass that, at the age of ten, on a blessed and joyful day, our Illustrious Sovereign, Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan, was duly enthroned.”

"Of course, Zakhertan Yozdek was outraged (livid) to learn of this and, I understand, many suffered his terrible wrath.  Since, however, his promise had the strength of an Imperial edict, it could not be rescinded, and Zakhertan had to let the Coronation proceed.  Still, he managed to slip a catch into it.  The boy King was deemed to be of too tender an age, to rule unaided and, since the appointed Regent had mysteriously succumbed to a fatal infection after a routine wound which had been improperly dressed, Zakhertan Yozdek’s elder relation, a grasping licentious cur calling himself Guobin Yozdek, was appointed (in its stead) as the new Regent.  With the aid of a cotillion of advisors specially transported with him from Wenjenkun, this piece of offal was given leave to govern Korion for eight years until Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan’s age of ascent.  Though this was nominally an interim appointment, Zakhertan’s design was obviously to have the situation closely monitored and controlled and the boy King's abilities assessed.  If Yoshikan were to show even the least potential of becoming a strong, capable leader then he was to be covertly disposed of, regardless of any future consequences. But despite his youth, His Highness Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan had already possessed a most discerning mind and alerted at the very start to this danger, he’d played his part brilliantly, in order to beguile his planted (spy) Royal Entourage (attendants, governors, tutors etc.) and to allay all their fears.”

“Of course, Zakhertan Yozdek would not be so easily duped and summoning our Sovereign to Channing numerous times, tested him in countless, vigorous, varied ways, dishing out all manner of insults to his person and country to see if Yoshikan or his loyal courtiers would have the backbone or strong will to strike back; but they, with all due humility and perseverance, subjected themselves to these indignities. “

“This caused Zakhertan to despise our Sovereign Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan even more as a spineless weakling and, predictably, to turn his attention to a more pressing concerns; one of which was the blatant and rapidly growing influence and power of Guobin Yozdek.” 

03--GUOBIN YOZDEK  (18)JP

“Guobin’s ambitious nature, as an oversight going unchecked, he’d become progressively more pompous, dictatorial and, even worse, defiant. You see, during his last state visit to Channing, Guobin deeming himself to be the most competent administrator, had brazenly (unabashedly) taken full credit for the pacification of Korion and the revival of its thriving economy. Guobin had further enraged Zakhertan Yozdek, by the unveiling of his long-term, lofty ambition; suggesting in words stronger than a mere request that, Wenjenkun should dispense with the charade and proclaim him instead, as the sole ruler of Korion. More outrageously still, Guobin had exposed his sinister plan to Zakhertan, which’d been ready to be implemented at a moment’s notice, to murder our young Sovereign Yoshikan through (via) poisoning or an induced illness.  The Regent Guobin banking on his status in family (as blood-relation), had erroneously supposed that, after his reporting of an alleged, disgraceful incident involving Prince Yoshikan, he had reached a sympathetic kinship’ ear.”

“Meanwhile, unknown to the aspiring King of Korion, our Illustrious Prince Yoshikan, because of his uprightness and humility, had progressively gained a strong and loyal following in both Korion and with the dissidents (nonconformists) in Wenjenkun.  These supporters, seeing the time was ripe, had already implemented, carefully orchestrated series of rumors and incidents which made it appear as though Guobin had long since being conspiring to usurp the throne of Korion, right under the nose of Zakhertan Yozdek. As proof, they’d   obtained depositions (affidavits) and had those incognito (anonymously) leaked to authorities in Channing, from other contiguous nations’ Princes who were no allies of Korion, intimating that Guobin had solicited their support, with the suggestion of constant border incursions, to destabilize Wenjenkun’s strong government.  Same period, several Guobin’s enthusiasts were furtively (stealthily) exposed planning their machinations, to internally undermine Zakhertan Yozdek’s rule, which would then, by way of a nation-wide rebellion, would have brought about Zakhertan’s eventual downfall. At this juncture Korion’s armies would have then swooped down to fulfill Guobin’s fantastic high ambition of uniting both countries under his new Dynasty.”

“This obviously infuriated Zakhertan Yozdek, who acted swiftly and brutally but in a much stronger fashion than could have ever been anticipated or hoped. With a single stroke, Guobin Yozdek and the untrustworthy Princes along with all their supporters and countless other suspected conspirators were all, maliciously and sadistically eradicated.” Hugen at this point pausing donned a somewhat sinister, satisfactory grin.  “This brought about the accession of our Illustrious Sovereign Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan a full two years before the ordained time. And of course, you know the rest." Hugen waved his hand in dismissal and, rising to his feet, strode outside to relieve himself.

After the rain, with the wind subsiding and most of the flotilla clouds gone away, the night’s sky was now decked with blinking stars (patently) markedly flirting with the half crescent moon; meanwhile, Earth was still mantled (blanketed) in black, with periodically dancing hazy, indistinct sundry shapes. Hugen grimaced, suddenly hearing a (cry) hooting of an owl that was perfectly camouflaged up in the tree some ways off, and knowingly nodded.    Lingering at outside Hugen inhaled deeply and filled his lungs with the refreshingly cool, crisp evening air. Reluctant to return to the confines of the ramshackle hut, he offhandedly at first pinned his empty gaze into the dark void; moment later however, in his mind’s eye he was visualizing and nostalgically reminiscing about the exciting exploits of heroes, some he knew all too well, a long, long time ago. His thoughts again reverting to his beloved Sovereign, Hugen reflected on how even before his ascension His Highness Yoshikan had spent many long grueling hours holding Court in secret, all well hidden beneath the guise of licentious parties. Through these long processes some of the necessary changes had been surreptitiously and, (gradually) by small degrees, incorporated into the existing system. His Highness had tirelessly toiled night and day to draw up effective stratagems for resurrecting the nation from the ashes, rebuilding it to its former glorious strength so that once more they could become a Country to contend with. Soon as he was legally King of Korion, Yoshikan had appointed these certain able ministers’ and with their help instituted apt effective measures that had been so many years in the making.

04- YOSHIKAN SOUSING NOKUZUK BINCHAN  -JP

His Highness Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan’s subsequent edict had amended the flawed old system of governance and law; after which had occurred, the purging of all undesirables’ right down to the root.  Those spies, collaborators and moles that had been pinpointed (found out) sometime prior, were either converted, bought out or kept on to unknowingly pass on misinformation to Wenjenkun.  A few, very few, were discreetly killed when they proved uncooperative.  Zakhertan Yozdek hence, all this time had been fed a deceptive picture of the state of Korion and was lulled into a false sense of security that had lasted to the present day.

 Hugen re-entering the dilapidated (rundown) hut, quietly sat in the same spot and periodically, somewhat distractedly, gazed at the far corner, as he waited for Uyuk’s return. 

“Odd, there's that feeling again, a strong sense of danger gnawing at my innards. Plus, the hairs on the back of my neck are bristling, which is a sure sign of peril.” As it was, Hugen's intuition had never failed him.  His piercing gaze once more astutely scrutinized the corner from where he sat, keenly examining (observing), that small pile of debris against the far wall.  “There's nothing outwardly strange, yet there's something odd about it, something I can't rightly pinpoint (explain); perhaps the way the broken shards of furniture are resting, the pattern of the bricks and mortar, that broken jug handle, was it there before?”

Just then Hugen was distracted by Uyuk's noisy return from the business he had just concluded outside.  Uyuk, sensing his partner's mood, quietly took up the same position he had just vacated a moment ago.  "What's up?” he then leaned forward to ask in a conspiratorial whisper.

"I'm not sure.” Hugen grunted. After shaking his head, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, remaining deliberately oblivious to Uyuk's questioning, piercing gaze. 

“That mouse I saw scurrying across to his hole when I came back must have disturbed it.” Hugen quietly mused.  “Either that, or, Hmm...No, that’s too improbable.”  Before long, his thoughts again (turned) reverted to his beloved Sovereign.

His Royal Highness Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan in the ensuing years, living prudently and encouraging all his ministers to follow suit, had shared the abysmal hardships of his subjects. He’d abolished (inherited) fiefdoms; furthermore, on his Highness’s directive, the Governing Council had per annum, assiduously apportioned (allotted) the nation's wealth among its citizens high and low.  Standards were set and strictly regimented; communications improved; taxes remained moderate; the enforced laws were strict but nevertheless fair and just.  People willingly worked harder and toiled longer hours, knowing that it was for the common good and, they got to keep a good portion of their profits for themselves.  This encouraged them to exert themselves and their abilities to the maximum for the harder they worked, the better off they were, and the better off their children's lives would be. The future, no longer bleak, looked bright and promising for all.  Piety and propriety abounded, and industrious citizens had in time flourished. Sovereign Yoshikan never letting himself for a moment to forget the disgrace that his lineage and his subjects for more than decade and a half now had borne (suffered, endured), unrelentingly hence, had kept up his vigil, setting a good example as well as being, an inspiration to all. Thus, Sovereign Yoshikan had earned his subjects' undying love and unfaltering loyalty in a way that all other leaders since time immemorial would envy.  He’d become the true heartbeat of their nation.  Every citizen without question would suffer the torments of Hell, would surrender their very lives without a single moment's hesitation if it would benefit their beloved Sovereign or their nation.

In this respect, then, Hugen was not alone; furthermore, Hugen like all good patriots, lived and breathed in anticipation of the day Zakhertan Yozdek and Wenjenkun would be totally eradicated, obliterated from the face of the Earth and the pages of History.  Impatience gnawed at him daily as his heart ached increasingly with the unstinted yearning to see that day when it would all come to pass.

"Unfortunately, our resourceful, well-respected Minister Tuvering Bokurek has deemed the time is not yet ripe; and his advice is always sound.  Some even compare his competence and forte akin to the Illustrious Wushing." Suddenly Hugen broke his long, prolonged silence and looking directly at Uyuk, enunciated (voicing) the subsequent thought that’d just then intruded into his mind.

It was obvious that Uyuk had been thinking along these same lines as he abstractedly drew circles on the dirt floor, for he nodded; but then, seconds later frowning, he shook his head and grumbled. "The time is not yet ripe.  When will it be ripe?  Why is he stalling?" His eyes affixed on Hugen he now pressed on: "We formed that new alliance with Luso and Dokurak after Terz to…"

"That information is highly confidential!” Hugen barked, aghast. “How did you come by it?"

"Oh I, too, have my resources."  Uyuk smiled smugly then pinned his defiant gaze on Hugen.  "But don't you go imagining that there is a leak in the High Council.  After all, you are the only one I've disclosed this to, and this I did only because I know for a fact that you were already aware of it."

"Right, well I know exactly where and from whom you acquired your information but never mind." Hugen looked away to hide his extreme annoyance.

“That little vermin should have been exterminated (eradicated) some years ago if it were not for his powerful backers.” Hugen still livid, mulled over. “But this breach is inexcusable!  As soon as I get back, I'll push to have him eliminated, disposed off permanently, for after this violation (flouting) a mere dismissal will now not suffice.” 

Hugen understood well, how this move would incur great animosity towards him and create lasting enemies.  “That brute does have so many influential friends.”  For a second he’d wavered; reflecting on those ardent nemesis’s, which were always after his hide. “So, what,” Grimacing, he shrugged. “Let them add a few more grievances to an already long list.”

Uyuk had perfunctorily dismissed that certain cringe he’d felt in his heart, and now suppressing the alarming thoughts as well, simply grunted. "Yet I fail to comprehend just how much more time Minister Bokurek needs to have, to give the final go-ahead.  Aren't we as ready as we'll ever be?"

05-MINISTER OF KORION TUVERING BOKUREK   (3)

"Surely the good Minister's reasons are explicit enough…  Why should we show our hand prematurely and awaken the sleeping giant?”  Hugen snorted disdainfully. "Besides, aren't you overlooking something of vital importance?"

"What?"  As Hugen then turned his stone gaze back on him, Uyuk decided not to feign total ignorance. "Oh, you mean the implications of the failed assassination."

"You can be exasperatingly quite tiresome at times."

Uyuk threw his head back and laughed uproariously but then abruptly halted it and drew close to seriously murmur, "It’s nevertheless quite regrettable that General Kunsun had failed in his mission." Out of the corner of his eye Uyuk had watched for the expected reaction and finding nothing, he groaned. "Many hopes hung on him, so sure we were that he would succeed."  He looked Hugen straight in the eye this time and shrugged, as if to take the edge off his next remark, "You think it took any stretch of imagination, any brilliance at all, to deduce just who the assassin was?  He was after all, the best candidate for the task; unfortunately, his demise will be a tremendous loss for our State. He deserved better, especially after his rendering of myriad years of invaluable service to our Sovereign and the State. Oh, shame of it all that the General’s corpse had ended up the way it did; to date I’m tormented by the wretched condition of it… He was certainly undeserving of such an ignoble end."

“You are so full of it!” Hugen musing pensively looked away; subsequently, he broke his long, uncharacteristic silence with a grunt.

Uyuk could see the other was tense, as though anticipating a fight, perhaps an onslaught (ambush), yet chose to disregard Hugen's unusually taut demeanor.

"As it is, his spirit will now be forced to roam the Earth forever.  I'm not sure just how much comfort our future sacrifices can bring him.  It's most unfortunate the way things turned out for him, eh…Too bad for us that he failed."  Uyuk disingenuously lamented, his mind on entirely different matters. “Oh, I know full well what you mean to do the moment we return home, but I won't let you; we won't let you.”  Uyuk inwardly scoffed as he concurrently (at the same time) determinedly clenched the fist he had hidden from Hugen's sight.  “He is my friend and he'd come through for me more than once.”

"Oh, but has he?  Has he really?"  Hugen's eventual, sarcastic response, had at first shocked Uyuk, but then he quickly got a grip on his senses as he realized Hugen was referring to General Kunsun.

Uyuk’s ambivalent (unsure) eyes again met Hugen's stone gaze.  After a moment's hesitation he tragically grimaced and nodded, "Yes, I suppose you are right.  After all, it strengthened Zakhertan Yozdek’s resolve to send an invading army to, purportedly reinforce Korion’s borders and to offset (counteract) the expected onslaught (attack) from Kontu.  A hundred-thousand strong, was it not?"  He waited for Hugen's silent confirmation of the figure before he continued, "Without that edge massive armies of Kontu would have been unleashed on Korion by now."

There was a quick exchange of glances, meaningful, wistful looks of excitement then both burst into boisterous, hearty laughter. 

 

(END OF SECTION 17) 

 

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 12

 Nevetsecnuac cursed his tardiness under his breath.  He had arrived too late to ascertain the purpose of this meeting.  Now he was as much in the dark as ever.

Just then however, at a signal from Zaur Stugr, a side door opened, and a cloaked figure emerged from it.  He walked up to the dais, bowed low, and then quickly removed his hood to expose his face.  When he spoke the unmistakable tone of the voice and the familiar accent gave Nevetsecnuac quite a start, for the man was most definitely Deizvor; one of the two armed sentinels, (under the command of Egil Viggoaries,) guarding the Cyprecox Pass, at the time Nevetsecnuac had fallen into the pit and got the key.

01-DEIZVOR (KOZUR MEMBER)

But why be surprised, Nevetsecnuac musing, shrugged.  In this duplicitous ethos (culture), this sort of milieu (situation) -that any one group of conspirators would be conspiring with the other-was to be expected.   He was nonetheless tad annoyed, as he now passionately believed that the pseudo agreeable Minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr, a highly respected official of the P.M. Lamont Gudaren’s, was in fact a hypocritical, shrewd (crafty) instigator, who all along had colluded with the Dark Eunuch Egil Viggoaries to undermine the P.M.

Nevetsecnuac was just then struck by the sudden, rapid change in Zaur's demeanor as the latter had listened on to Deizvor’s report; furthermore, the articulated contents must have been grave enough, for it had warranted Zaur's rapt attention. Unfortunately, Deizvor’s lowered tone made the rest of his exclamations inaudible from Nevetsecnuac's perched high point.  He could only just barely make out the ending, "both of them are now in custody, sir.  We shall not be hearing from Lieutenant Yennic again."

Could he be the same Lieutenant Yennic, who had been so familiar with the bearded Commander Zhadol?  Nevetsecnuac, though he already knew the answer, inwardly queried. His brow subsequently furrowed, recalling the time in not-too-distant past, when he’d accidentally chanced on the two at the Cyprecox Pass and listening in, learned that Commander Zhadol was in fact one of the twelve members of Egil Viggoaries’s Inner Circle of the Black Molochs. Nevetsecnuac sideways wondered as he edged closer to catch the rest, if Zaur Stugr had known all along of the lieutenant Yennic’s perfidious liaison with the Commander Zhadol. He did not have to wait long however, as the answer was revealed in Zaur Stugr’s contrite (somewhat penitent) response:

"Too bad; he was a good recruit with real potential.  Still, it is most fortunate that, during this probation period, we had kept him at arm’s length." 

Zaur subsequently fell silent for a spell, musing, and then shook his head.  This time it had been a close call; still the lengthy and rigorously monitored test (probation) period for neophytes had once more proven invaluable. 

As it were, for the last seven years Zaur had implemented a new recruiting policy, which stated that anyone, whose association numbered less than five years, received their instructions, and made their reports to an anonymous third party until they were fully initiated into the Kozur Brotherhood. The law (of brotherhood) stipulated that if before this time, any greenhorns (novices) discovered the identity of their contact, or failed to maintain an impeccable record, their life would immediately be terminated (forfeited).  In this way, when the unthinkable happened, as in this case with Lieutenant Yennic, there would be no direct link up to the Kozurs. In the worst-case scenario where the limited, ersatz (bogus) connection would be discovered, as it had been designed to do- which was to run directly through the Prime Minister's offices, the so-called link being unsubstantiated, would lead to dead end, as well, throw any would-be investigators hopelessly off track.

Suddenly Zaur Stugr impatiently halted Deizvor' report and (acting on a hunch,) signaled for the spy to follow him into an adjacent room. 

Nevetsecnuac deducing the position of their destination sought a different vantage point; finding a small oval window typical of this style of architecture just under another set of eaves, with some effort silently forced it open a crack and then, proceeded to eavesdrop on them.

"Sir, I spotted these two quite by accident, on the outskirts of Yesunban in one of the rarely frequented alleys, after I had just concluded my report to Zihoxy Ner." Deizvor, standing stiffly beside the desk behind which Zaur was now comfortably seated in a plush chair, in a serious tone presently recounted.  He coughed slightly for the dramatic effect and then, added: "Intrigued by their odd behavior, I covertly dogged them for some time till they’d reached their presumed destination, which happened to be an old, abandoned granary on Inklimer Street. They snuck into the back alley and, forced entry into premise after removing some rotten boards.  I pursued them to inside as soon as the coast was clear and quickly spotted them in the corner, partially hidden behind some crates, gabbing in some foreign (alien tongue) language.  As luck would have it, they then switched into an ancient dialect of Korionese and, having a passing familiarity with that, I was able to make some sense of what was being said."

Zaur Stugr did not need to be reminded of Deizvor’ skill in numerous, diverse vernaculars, or his perfect memory, “Of course", he nodded impatiently, "now I want you to relay everything exactly as you heard it, word for word, omitting not even the most insignificant grunt.  Leave nothing unreported, understand?"

02- DEISVOR  (KOZUR) REPORTING

Deizvor nodded briskly and continued, "One of them was called Hugen and his companion was addressed as Uyuk.  The conversation (exchange) started innocuously enough when the one called Hugen touched the other's shoulder and asked, "But hey, a while back there when the night sentry caught us unawares and demanded our identities, you gave a different name than that you were instructed to give.  Why did you call yourself Kundrick Dufo?  Where on earth did that name come from?"

"The one called Uyuk abruptly looked right past Hugen; after spell of brooding over a seeming deep resentment he, then threw his head back and laughed bitterly, "It was a joke? Yes, it was a joke, a cruel joke!"  Brief time later however, he turned to affix his harsh gaze back on Hugen; Uyuk’s face now shone with dark malice as he absently caressed the ugly scar on his left cheek and snarled: "The executioner was just about to swing his ax when…" He abruptly held his tongue and shook his head.  "Fortunately, I was too young ..." Uyuk, after a brief hesitation, grunted; he followed it with some derisive mumble, which unfortunately was audible only to him."

Deizvor caught by the momentum of his recollections, presently took to re-enacting the spontaneous dialogue, complete with gestures. "A joke…" Hugen snapped back, obviously not having caught the rest of Uyuk's meanderings.

"Yes", Uyuk reverted to his defiant stare, "A joke."

"In a pig's eye," Hugen scoffed disdainfully then shook his threatening index finger in the other's face while he growled, "I don't particularly care to know the motive, Uyuk, but you can't go on changing the procedure on the spur per your whim.  Understand!”

“I'm in charge here."  Hugen shrugged and went over to seat himself on a broken crate.  "What if he'd asked to see your papers?  Your carelessness could have jeopardized our mission!"

Hugen’s brow furrowing crossly, he now barked at Uyuk, "I warn you; I'll have no more of your shenanigans (tomfoolery).  You hear?  This is a serious business…It’s bad enough that ugly scar of yours attracts far too much unwarranted attention."  Despite the harsh words his tone towards the end of his say had grown more conciliatory, even affectionate.

"Yeah", Uyuk bitterly retorted, "but it also makes us inconspicuous in the slums where it counts most.  Isn't that the reason why, they paired us off on this mission to begin with?  You do well in posh circles and with other such upstanding citizens whereas I blend in better with the maimed dissidents of the gutters, where most of our contacts are made.  If you ask me, I'm the indispensable one here."

As Deizvor related this interchange word for word, Nevetsecnuac had noted the augmented intensity (increased tension) in the taut muscles of Zaur Stugr's face ever since the name “Kundrick Dufo” had been mentioned. 

Nevetsecnuac's brows knitted as he searched his memory:  Kundrick…. Kundrick Dufo... Hmm…. where had he heard that name before?  Suddenly certain facts rushed to his mind:  Why of course, wasn't he the son of Sorgun Dufo, favorite tutor of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and furthermore, the very name that Heng Erling had chosen in his fabrication to give to the Commander-in-Chief of the fictitious insurgents?  Could it be a mere coincidence, or much more than that, Heng picked this name to give credence to his lie?  Was Kundrick Dufo really a conspirator, if he still existed, at all?  Even more interesting, how did a foreign spy get a hold of that name, and just where does Zaur Stugr fit in all of this?  Why should he be so clearly perturbed by the very mention of that person?  What immense (vast) significance did that name “Kundrick Dufo” held?

Nevetsecnuac's mind had further become inundated by an influx of queries as he studied more astutely now, Zaur Stugr’s present stone countenance.  He noted Zaur's sustained deliberate attempts to mask a raging inner conflict as he, instructed Deizvor to investigate the purpose (reason) for which Kundrick Dufo had been mentioned by the spy Uyuk.  The mounting complexity of his host's character further intrigued and same time exhilarated Nevetsecnuac.

Zaur Stugr had been utterly successful meanwhile, in concealing his range of emotions from Deizvor; while on the outset he pretended to be listening impassively to the laboriously detailed account, Zaur Stugr privately in fact had been mulling over, Nevetsecnuac’s akin (similar, alike) queries and concerns.  

Uyuk’s use of his (Zaur’s) true name, Kundrick Dufo…Could it be pure coincidence…  Hardly!  Zaur Stugr firmly refused that notion. Then out of the blue when the spy’s sentence: “A cruel joke,” also came to mind, the truth at that juncture became absolutely apparent.

03- UYUK  (1)JP

So, the boy Enkaz had survived the terrible ordeal (punishment) after all!  With such bad blood coursing through his veins, was it any wonder he had turned to espionage?  Now he had become a traitor to Wenjenkun, working for the destruction of the country that, in his distorted perception had forsaken him, which happened to be precisely the time when, at the tender age of three, he’d been forced into exile.  The burn on the left cheek that’d later turned into an ugly scar, where once Enkaz Dufo, son of Minakoz Dufo had been tattooed as part of his punishment, was the very proof (evidence) which validated this viewpoint?

Then again, all this could well have been a bizarre coincidence. Zaur Stugr in desperate attempt to allay his worse fears, musing, looked away.  And first and foremost, more comprehensive, and irrefutable evidence (proof) must be attained (secured).  Having decided thus, Zaur once again directed his full attention back to Deizvor.

"As anticipated, it was not long before their contact appeared on the scene.  He was an exceptionally tall man and sturdily built but the cloak and mask he wore for concealment and the fact that he spoke but sparingly, made identifying him difficult.  From the way he moved however, I don't know just how to put this, but there was something rather familiar about his gestures."  Deizvor mumbled the last part as he gesticulated (physically demonstrated) the movements.

When Zaur Stugr knitted his brows, frowning in displeasure, a flustered Deizvor strove even harder, to identify the masked, tall, robust spy, as if his very life depended on it.  After a painful pause however, he had to confess, "Unfortunately, sir, it still eludes (escapes) me."

"Never mind, it will come to you sooner or later." Zaur cut him off.  "Continue with the events themselves."  In truth, the contact's impersonated (imitated) gestures, did evoke (conjured up) in Zaur’s mind a certain familiarity also, but just like Deizvor, he too, could not rightly place it.

"Anyhow", Deizvor politely coughed (covering his mouth with his hand) to clear his suddenly dry throat, "I eased myself closer to hear their conversation with perfect clarity only to have the contact switch, as if by innate caveat (instinctive caution), into that other, indecipherable dialect the two spies first used."

"Are you sure your presence had not been detected?  Could it be that they were (actually) feeding you misinformation?"  There was a solid note of concern in Zaur's stern voice.

Nevetsecnuac perceived just then a slight ripple of shudder that run through Deizvor as he, very much disconcerted, presently lowered his head to pause in thought.  After a brief spell, he shook his head and swallowing hard, answered: "No, there was no such indication.  Of that I am most definitely certain."

 

(END OF SECTION 12)