LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 30

Zunrogo had not been bluffing, when he had earlier subtly hinted to Disaidun Agripe that he knew far more than he was letting on.  Few weeks prior, he had in fact, from the painstakingly gleaned information, pieced it all together to determine just who had written the letter and, more importantly, the contents of it.

01- SHOUZI YOZDEK 1 JP

Lod Shouzi Yozdek, only two years Sovereign Zakhertan’s senior, as children the two had been (inseparable) thick as thieves.  In fact, up till puberty, the mischievous duo, which shared similar characteristics and interests, had once embarked on many hair-raising adventures to nosh (nourish) their innate, perverse appetite for carnage. But for unknown reason or reasons, their close kinship had abruptly and drastically altered (changed) when the two were in their mid-teens; aside from the estrangement, it also transformed their once close bond to that of stealthy, adversarial one in nature.  

At any rate, well before His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek had solidified his rule, his second Cousin Lord Shouzi Yozdek, long since discontented with Zkhertan, had once colluded with Kujoge Yozdek to overthrow Zakhertan in an uprising.  In a moment's madness, forgoing his usual precautions, Lord Shouzi had sent a confidential letter to Kujoge, with certain incriminating words and some details of intended rebellion, with his trusted steward.  Unfortunately, the letter was intercepted, and the mutilated corpse of the steward was, after a frighteningly long time, sent back to Lord Shouzi with a single letter "R" carved into the corpse's chest.

Plotting a rebellion had always been regarded, by Zakhertan, as the most grievous of crimes; hence, even members of the Royal family were not exempted (spared) from the (horrendous) extremely abominable punishments.  Of course, the plot had been abandoned and all plans scrapped or, as Zunrogo suspected, temporarily postponed.  Since then, however, His Lordship Shouzi Yozdek had been living under the fearful dread of his entire family’s (his precious sons, as well as his wife’s family’s, this going back ten generations,) utter annihilation (extermination); meanwhile, his vast resources (funds, assets) were being perpetually (continuously) drained with exacting extortions (blackmails, shakedowns) from an indomitable secret foe (source).

Last two years Lod Shouzi had paid the steadily increasing ransom amount without fail, but of late, more was required of His Lordship, some of it highly dicey. In time the extortionists’ demands became even more unsavory, further contemptible.  The vile deeds which His Lordship Shouzi Yozdek was forced to commit, forever hunted the Lord’s conscience, and made him quake in dread. He spent many terror-struck days and evenings fearing his ignominious end, or worse, of his own flesh and blood beloved’s sons’ abduction and reprehensible demises.

Wishing to put an end to this intolerable (nightmarish) situation, His Lordship had naturally enlisted the help of his longtime friend, the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and they had jointly employed every covert means, sparing no effort or expense, to find the letter and wipe out (bring an end to) the would-be culprits. But despite years of effort, the perpetrators had ingeniously eluded detection, till now.

02-ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 23

Zunrogo mentally patted himself on the shoulder for his latest, crucial string of successes, and then turned his attention back to the woman.

Notwithstanding (despite) his seeming disinterest in the letter, his subsequent manipulative questions and the specific reference to the pouch and its seal, had presently (currently) beguiled Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi) into suspecting that he already had the letter in his safekeeping.

“But how could he have stolen it without me knowing it? He did not lay-a-hand-on-me. And certainly, I’ve never not once, left it out of my sight. Earlier, roughed up by that beastly guard Tzan, could he have …? “

 Disaidun Agripe’s heart palpitated wildly just then and, as consequence (result) of the seed of doubt that he had so firmly planted in her mind, she absentmindedly placed her hand over the hidden pocket near her bosom.

“No, thank goodness, it's still there!”  Nevertheless, she knew she had been careless, way foolish, to even suspect that it could have been nabbed.

Disaidun threw Zunrogo a contemptuous look. “Well played…You think you're so smart, don't you?  All right, so you got me to betray its whereabouts, but you'll get it when Hell freezes over! “

“Furthermore, I have you know, I’m not afraid of death.” She then inwardly lied. “I’ll destroy it if you even so much as try.  Just try it!”  She sized up the distance to the cabin's porthole. Could she be fast enough?

Zunrogo had been thoroughly entertained by the web of conflicting emotions that had passed over her face, surmising the array of her thoughts.  “How delightful she was when issuing those silent threats.  How utterly delightful! “

“But now, it was time to put an end to this fun and plunk her in her proper place.”  Smiling mischievously, he asked, "How long has it been?"

"How long?"  Disaidun Agripe raised her eyebrows.

"Don't play coy with me.  How long has it been since you've had a good one?" he grinned.

This time she caught his meaning.  Her eyes hardened.  Glaring at him she snarled, "Since you seem to know everything, you tell me."

"Oh, why articulate such righteous anger?  You were proud once to be so well sought after in high circles.  You should be flattered that your reputation precedes you, even after all this time."

"That's right," she frowned. "That was all in the past.  I've buried it (former life) long ago."

 She’d denounced it hotly, indignantly then, lowering her head, ejected sadly, "It's so cruel of you to dredge up the past.  It all happened then, before I knew any better, before I had any sense."

"Before you were under eighteen years of age, I believe," Zunrogo cut her short, unfazed.

Truncating her subsequent, near comical retort and words of self- pity, "And don’t forget, just four months before your enlistment into Secret Society of KokuTizanrez…. Only eighteen, eh?  Still, even in that short time you had built yourself up quite a reputation, didn’t you?  Learned a few good tricks too, I'll bet."  He asked forcefully.

"But tell me, how was Zohuj Kez?  How does one worm one's way into the black heart of a eunuch when he lacks the proper equipment to satisfy a woman's desires?  You must indeed be exceptional."

The question had achieved its desired effect and Disaidun Agripe blushed profusely.  “Incredible,” Zunrogo shook his head in disbelief, “after all that she's experienced, succumbed, all she’s been through, the vixen can still blush!”

"How dare you!  What gives you the right to talk to me that way?" She cried out indignantly, trying to hold back her tears but she'd taken this insult to heart and, in-order-to shield herself from his piercing gaze, looked away as two defiant strings of saltwater pearls rolled down her cheeks.  Covertly, she wiped them away as she kept up the angry response, determined not to afford Zunrogo the satisfaction.

He threw his head back and laughed coldly, viciously with sure delight.

“Now she'll be ready.  Oh, but look how frantically she tries to purge guilt and shame from her heart.  How desperately she strives to maintain her dignity and prove me wrong. Oh, poor little vermin (mice), I almost feel sorry for you!”

In the ensuing moments, however, he sustained his heartless prodding, poked fun, and unreservedly enjoyed observing (watching) the predicted change taking root in her, the whole time each struggle ensnaring her deeper and deeper into his tightly woven net.

Disaidun Agripe realized too late that she was hooked, well and proper.

Earlier on she had discerned but foolishly ignored, her intuit warning, that her worst nightmare was about to come true.  Her feelings vacillated to each extreme, according to what he said.  Each tone of his voice seemed to manipulate her responses independently of her will.  Despite her valiant efforts to deny the feelings raging inside her, his insinuations, his rude, suggestive remarks both irritated and enticed her.

Satisfied with the end-result, Zunrogo eased off a bit, though by no means was he through toying with his prey.

“Now let’s see just how ambitious you are.”

 The time was now ripe to tempt her with some purpose, some hope.  Would she take the bait?

 "But tell me, “He changed the subject, "hasn't a capable girl like you ever aspired to some greater goals in life?"

"As if I have a choice," she huffed; the words had poured out of her unbidden.

Checking her discomfiture, she stared back at him questioningly.

03- DISADUN AGRIPE JP 222

“No sense appealing to his sympathy. He has no heart, no understanding.”

 What she had heard about him was all true; he was a cruel and manipulative brute.

“Oh, what's the use?” She hung her head.

She (for a time) thoughtfully affixed her gaze onto the floorboards of the cabin, to hide her deep resentment for him; then, bit the corner of her lip to get a grip and, again, looked askance at him.

“Why did you insist on dredging up the past, if not to humiliate me?  What was the point of all those mean, nasty questions? What am I supposed to believe when, you are stern (harsh, demanding, hardhearted) one instance then turns unexpectedly judicious (fair) and humane (caring, gentle, kindly, charitable) the next…Oh, my brain is so befuddled with all these mixed messages?  What could you possibly want from me besides that, same old, oh …?”  

Suddenly she recalled what he had said earlier on that he may have certain use for her in future.

 “Is he, by any chance, thinking of recruiting me?  Is this just a test?”  Narrowing her eyes, she overtly scrutinized him. “Why else? “

Suddenly Disaidun Agripe bounced back out from her deep depression.  “Then I'll show him a thing or two and just what I'm made of; but first, I’ll get him back for putting me through all that grueling.” she inwardly swore.

“I’ll show him that I have what it takes; then I’ll refuse him flatly.”   Her confidence fully restored; she had the spunk to plan apt retribution (payback).

Zunrogo grimaced as he surmised this turn in her thoughts. It was precisely what he had hoped to make her feel at this point.

“Nearly half the work is done; good!”  He sat back and braced himself for her anticipated questions.

"Why have you sent for, me?" Disaidun shifted uneasily in her seat, her soul unknowingly bending to his whim

"Two reasons." Zunrogo answered gravely after a deliberate, painful pause.  "You did say they meant nothing to you, but how do you feel about that old official, Luvet?"  He looked at her meaningfully.  He had had him checked out.  He was clean.  He was not a spy.  Still, he strove to be certain, to leave no loose ends behind.

"The same," Disaidun Agripe shrugged coldly.  Then, understanding fully what he expected of her, she asked, "You mean all three?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No.", she shook her head spontaneously, studied Zunrogo for a moment then nodded her cold commitment.  "Consider it done."

"It must look perfectly natural, you understand."

"No problem."  Her confidence mounting, already she had conceived the plan in her mind; it had been played out many times on countless opera stages.  "No problem at all. You'll see, even you will be impressed.”

"Good."  Zunrogo was pleased.

“What?  Not curious about the details, not in the least?”  Disaidun thought she was the mastermind of this brilliant plan, not realizing how subtly, methodically she’d been manipulated to contribute to this specific plot. As she was most eager to earn his praise, she now readily volunteered the specifics all in one burst. The simplicity and efficiency of her ideas did please him, but all he let show was his slight amusement.

"You said that there were two things.  What's the other?"  She, with racing heart, eagerly asked.

"Not so fast." Zunrogo chuckled at her keenness.  "Don't you want to know why?"

"Not particularly." Disaidun Agripe lied.  In truth, she was dying to know the reason.

"Good, then I’ll save my breath.”  He paused to watch her desperate attempt to remain calm, to control the emotions erupting within her.  He was sorely disappointed in her.

“You'll have to do better than that.  You're not so hard after all, and you can be read like a book.  One wonders how you've managed to survive this long unless you've fortuitously dealt only with morons!”

He's still testing me; she raised her hurt filled eyes up to him.  “Am I measuring up?”

"Perhaps,” His icy, spontaneous answer startled her.

 But then, “why be so surprised?  So, he’s discerning my thoughts. I made no conscious effort to conceal them.” She inwardly lied to herself; then, looking at him squarely in the eye, she asked: "You would really consider recruiting me?"

“No…It depends."

 The vague answer exhilarated her, nevertheless.  It was more than she’d hoped for.  A hint of gratitude and joy registered in her eyes as Disaidun looked at him needing, searching for some sort of confirmation.  Then a sudden darkness cast its shadow over her dreams. 

She lowered her eyes and shook her head in deep despair, "No, it can never be.  I'm under contract."  Disaidun looked up at him tragically, "They'll kill me before they let me go.”

“I…  I know too much."  Even this low-level assignment she was on had been sanctioned by their leader, of that, she was sure.

“Silly girl; even if I were to consider this in earnest it would not be their opposition I would be concerned with.”

Instead, he fed her further hope, "They are small fish.  They would not dare go against my wishes."

"Oh, I'd be ever so grateful."  Disaidun’s heart palpitated wildly.

Looking up at him with certain elation, as if he was some demigod, she utilized her winning feminine charms, wanting, needing further affirmation; but again, his unexpected stern composure froze her, dead on her tracks.  She abjectly (grimly) lowered her head and kept her silence.

"Your gratitude is premature.” He ejected coldly at this point, suppressing his laughter.

 "You have not yet proven your suitability, and there is still the High Council's decision yet to be made.  However, I may be able to sway their decision if I could tell them how you...” he deliberately left the rest hanging in air.

 

(END OF SECTION 30)

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

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

01- INCRIMINATING  lLETTER - JP

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

P.M. LAMONT GUDAREN

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

 

                                                                              ~

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

                                                                                   ~

 

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

"Sir?"  Tizan was perplexed.

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

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

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

03-TZAN JP

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "Hush Tait, hush child.  Hush."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DISRAUGHT HUSBAND 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

                                                                               ~

(END OF SECTION 28)

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 10

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 10

Nevetsecnuac rising to his feet, under the sparse light of the moon extended his search this way and that to determine the angle, width and depth of the pit; he subsequently, tested the stability (soundness) of the encircling walls as his palms and fingers carefully pushed or prodded for that anticipated (planned) future climb. In the end the outcome of his findings (investigation) had proven bit disheartening.  It would be nearly impossible, a most daunting task, to scale the precarious walls without any outside help.  The structure was a marvel of engineering, designed such that it deterred any means of escape.  Even if these unfortunate victims had, with incredible agility, been able to stack up vertically, without the right versatility the acrobatics would have been sill rendered fruitless, if not, hastened them to their death.

The question now remained whether Nevetsecnuac could succeed alone (single-handed) where, jointly all these trapped wretches, had failed.

01- NEVETSECNUAC ANALYSING THE PIT

“It would be a challenging feat;” Nevetsecnuac pensively looked up at the sporadically visible moon at the night’s sky, as the coy moon intermittently peeked out from the clouds: “but certainly not impossible.” He with a sly grin, tapped (rapped) his chin, having already conceived (concocted) a plausible plan.

 Subsequently, getting right to work, he first cleared the ground of any dangerous debris and, utilizing the available means setting the stage for his astute engineering feats that would generate constructive outcome, he next proceeded with the unnerving and relentless climb.  Even then he slid back few times, losing some ground (of the ascent) when the walls of the structure had abruptly collapsed or unexpectedly caved in.  Nevertheless, undeterred by these setbacks, he’d eventually succeeded in reaching the midway point, though the worst traps were yet to come.  Precariously clinging to the protruding rocks, with his free hand he dug up the exposed tips of hardy roots that had overtime, fortunately, had extended (grown) thus far; taking hold of these for anchorage, he nimbly (dexterously) overstepped the sharp cutting edges imbedded in the next layer then, agilely hauled his body upwards towards the seemingly unreachable mouth of the pit.

When he finally emerged outside, thankful that the moon had just then taken refuge behind some dark clouds, he squatted and regulated his breathing.

His thoughts, however, unwarranted, steered to the trapped victims within the terrible pit.

Who were they, to be so brutally imprisoned in an open grave, that they also warranted such elaborate traps? Why hadn't they been simply killed, then disposed of in shallower pits, holes, or crevices, likewise others, with much less trouble?

 What circumstance necessitated their slow, spiteful deaths? And what of those remnants; the shattered beams, the broken pieces of earthenware that at one time must have held provisions, the corroded pewter jug.

“Now, there's the real culprit!  “Nevetsecnuac sullenly (morosely) shook his head.

The exposed evidence, all too clearly, had shown that it had once contained a certain, tainted wine. There were some unmistakable traces of its permanent, unmistakable odor left on the inner rim.

Nevetsecnuac knew all too well, that this was the worst kind of deadly insect's poison, one that paralyzes the intended victims and, causes a prolonged, weeks, sometimes months of, lingering, excruciatingly painful death.

“Since the effects are not immediate and do not manifest themselves until sometime later, it must mean that some vital information, or something of equal importance, had to be extracted from the prisoners.  They were fed false hope before the final treachery came to light.”  As he absentmindedly reflected, his hand checked for the key.  Relieved to see that he had not lost it in the climb, he grimaced wryly, “Perhaps, one day, it will prove instrumental in unraveling this mystery for me but, for the time being, I best deal with this more pressing matter.”

Wishing to examine at first hand the point of the road that was being so closely guarded, a point he would be forced to traverse before long, Nevetsecnuac stealthily advanced towards the sentries.

“Hmm, it’s an ideal spot for an ambush.”  Nevetsecnuac, after scrutiny, thoughtfully nodded. For not only did the monitored road lie perfectly sandwiched between two hills, (it cut through uncompromising cliffs,) but also, strategically balanced rocks on their crests could, in an instant, be dislodged to trap any prey, leaving no option for retreat or advance.  In the worst-case scenario, the intended target could be annihilated altogether by the properly timed avalanche.

“He…” Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried, recalling Deizvor ' reference to the one they awaited.

“All this is deemed necessary to trap but one man. Fradel Rurik Korvald, Me? …Surely not. Perhaps it’s some well-guarded, despised official.”  Though he knew better.

Suddenly, another equally poignant question intruded into his mind. “But who’s behind all this… Whose command are they following?” 

His curiosity piqued, Nevetsecnuac sought to learn more and so hazarded to eavesdrop on the sentries.

02- GUARDS- SENTRIES

 Unfortunately, their idle chatter led to nothing specific or useful.  Since it would be imprudent to confront them now, Nevetsecnuac turned his attention instead in the direction of the just then manifest thin coil of smoke. His eyes trailing it, before it was promptly extinguished, at once caught a furtive (stealthy) movement at the mouth of a yawning cave, well tucked in the crevice of the next rising hill. “Splendid, “Nevetsecnuac retreated, edging away from the sentries to further reconnaissance.

Following a beeline, he crept swiftly but stealthily towards the dark cave, his eyes straining to catch the subtlest movement, his keen ears registering the minutest of sounds.  As the incessant, howling winds drove the laden clouds away to the east, the Earth was illuminated periodically again by the teasing, silver rays of the full moon. Taking special care with cover at such times, Nevetsecnuac eventually halted in-close-proximity to the cave's mouth; he squatted and then pressed his ear to the ground.  From the reverberations he speculated that more than a dozen horses and well-armed men were stationed within.  The cave was undoubtedly large enough to hold them all, along with a running underground stream.

“What would necessitate such force?” With a puzzled expression, he inwardly queried.  Intuitively feeling its importance to him, however, his pulse quickened with excitement and in anticipation of resolving (unravelling) this new, intriguing enigma.

By now the wind had spent its fury and, as the last leg of twirling debris settled lazily about, Nevetsecnuac gazed up at the dark canopy speckled with brilliant, twinkling stars hosting the moon. He eyed the heavily armed, formidable-looking sentry, well concealed, virulently guarding the entrance of the cave, and then deliberated on his next, viable course of action. Before Nevetsecnuac could act on it, however, two officious looking men suddenly emerged from the cave.  Crawling nearer still, Nevetsecnuac looked about sharply and perked up his ears to eavesdrop.

The bearded one, who was addressed as 'Commander', had just dispensed his brief instructions to the guards when, noting that the sky had cleared and the wind had tapered down to a pleasant breeze, turned to the officer at his side and proposed, "Would you like to accompany me on a bit of a walk for some fresh air, Lieutenant?"

"I'm at your disposal, sir." the other immediately responded.

Nevetsecnuac, who could not have asked for a better opportunity, turned his attention away from the sly grinning guards and trailed (tailed) the two officers as they strolled to a distant scenic spot. 

The Commander and his chief officer, confident they had reached beyond the guards' hearing range, finding a suitable spot, comfortably seated themselves on a huge, smooth boulder.  They were soon engrossed in a serious whispered conversation. 

03- COMMANDER ZHADOL AND HIS LIEUTENANT YENNIC

Quite undetected, Nevetsecnuac crept quietly to the nearest cover then, scaling an ancient tree, perched himself on a high branch that loomed within earshot.  He strained his ears to overhear the subject of their sudden heated exchange.

"Sir," the stout Lieutenant adamantly addressed the bearded Commander, "how reliable is this sorcerer Dwengzur, anyhow?  Has he never erred in his predictions?  I fear His Excellency may be making a fatal error in trusting him.  I mean, what we really know of him, other than that he's a native of that cursed country Korion."

“Again, Korion…” Nevetsecnuac's attention was piqued.

 Narrowing his eyes, he mused, “That's Zonar Kuntzu's Country; most curious indeed!”  However, feeling that it was too premature to speculate, he again lent an ear to the Lieutenant.

"I've met others from that State he claims to be from, but they are nothing at all like him.”

“He doesn't even speak with the same dialect. Moreover, until five months ago, he was virtually unknown to us.  Foreigner that he is, how could he so quickly, so effectively have penetrated essential layers of security and, despite his ungainly presence, have wormed his way into Her Ladyship's good graces?  It’s baffling, to say the least, how he's been elevated to such a position of trust that, ostensibly, he's even won the tolerance of His Royal Highness."

"As I understand it," the Commander spoke slowly and thoughtfully, "he gained his audience through Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren's Office."

"So, that's it!  He's another one of his recruits, then.  I should have suspected as much!"  The Lieutenant gritted his teeth.

Then, with puzzlement on his face, the Lieutenant looked up and asked, "How is it then, His Excellency (Eunuch) Egil Viggoaries, still trusts him and, puts so much credence in all those preposterous predictions of his?"

"You don't understand."  The Commander grimaced.

 "Things are never what they seem.  Though he has gained the patronage of the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and still more, his trust, in fact” Tensing up, he abruptly broke off, but his hesitation lasted but a moment.

 When he (turned) reverted his soft gaze back to his Lieutenant, he had already resolved his dilemma and was determined to confide this latest bit of privileged information to the other.

All the same, he could not resist teasing, "I may be breaching serious security protocol by telling you this but, after all we've been to each other, and I think I can trust you."

"You offend me greatly, sir, with your doubt!"  The cool retort spoke volumes.

Since the Lieutenant's voice had dropped, the rest of what he said was inaudible to Nevetsecnuac, but it did have an impact on the Commander, none the less.

Enough, in fact, to cause the older man to relent, "It wasn't meant to be” Turning, the Commander affectionately clapped his Lieutenant on the shoulder.

 "Come on now, Yennic.  Would I be here if I did not trust you implicitly?  Would I have even broached the subject if I didn't intend on telling you the rest?  How often have I confided in you in the past?  You already know most, if not all, what I've already been told in confidence.  You shouldn't take it like that; you have no cause to.  I just wanted to, maybe for the benefit of us all, stress the importance of confidentiality.  This knowledge was revealed only to the twelve of us in his coterie.  Should it come to light prematurely it will prove most disastrous, to say the least, and undermine all our efforts.  Don't think that our deaths will be swift afterwards, either.  I hope I've made myself perfectly clear, for it’s imperative that you don't breathe a word of it to anyone, not even to your immediate family, or even to the other members of your clique.  Can I have your word on this?"

Though Lieutenant Yennic was thoroughly piqued at the Commander for his gentle insistence, he knew that he could extract more by subtle means so, staying his malicious, cynical brash response and instead nodded with understanding and promised in a sincere tone, "Yes, Zhadol.  My lips, as always, are sealed.  Now, what is this great secret of yours?"

Though Nevetsecnuac seriously doubted Yennic's outward sincerity, Commander Zhadol, without a qualm, leaned forward at once to disclose the secret.

Before he had the chance to speak, however, Yennic interceded wryly, "Are you now going to tell me that Dwengzur, contrary to all appearances, is, in fact, a loyal vassal of His Excellency Egil Viggoaries and owes his foremost loyalty to him, and not the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren.”

“Furthermore, that the sorcerer is inveigling himself into Lamont Gudaren’s good graces, as ordered, and shamming subservience in order to strengthen Egil Viggoaries’s hand?"

"That's it in a nutshell." the Commander concurred bluntly, masking his annoyance.

"I wonder just how much it cost His Excellency to buy out his so-called loyal services." Yennic sneered.

"You're wrong there." Zhadol grimaced.  "His kind can never be bought.  They have no use for money or any other worldly goods that would impinge on their unfettered lives.  No, something else binds him to Egil Viggoaries.  As I understand it, he owes his life to His Excellency and something else too, something even more important.  Unfortunately, even I am left in the dark about this."

 When the Lieutenant cast a doubtful glance at him, Commander Zhadol reasserted, "I swear, I don't know but, since he interests you so, let me tell you more about this sorcerer."  Winking at Yennic, he continued, "Now Dwengzur is notably different from other sorcerers because, as I have been briefed, he belongs to an ancient, nomadic, tribal race that dwells in the remotest, most mountainous regions of Korion, shunning all contact with civilization.  It has been said that historical persecution has caused them to adopt this way of life.  Therefore, it’s my contention that he is a renegade, but why should we speculate … Anyhow, this race is both feared and revered by the Korionese.  Why?"  He paused for dramatic effect and to augment Yennic's curiosity. 

04- DWENGZU'S RACE IN KORION

"It’s because each one is endowed with special, supernatural powers.  They are born clairvoyant and raised collectively.  They are roundly educated in astrology, geomancy and, from an early age, are taught the ancient, secret spells and incantations by the designated elders of the tribe.  These ruling elderly Chiefs (that make up the core council) are reported to have extended their lives to least, seven hundred years.  The tribe's average life span, you see, is believed to exceed four hundred years.  This prized information is passed from generation to generation by word of mouth since nothing is recorded in writing on the off chance that it will fall into outsider's hands and be misused, with disastrous consequences.

"By the age of eight they possess many extraordinary abilities and can perform mind boggling tricks and are accredited with the innate ability to affect weather patterns.  They have never been known to suffer from any human ailments.  Individuality is frowned on by the tribe and they are not allowed to keep any personal artifacts.

“They are taught to consider themselves part of the collective unit and, when they refer to themselves, it is always in the plural; 'we would like to', 'that pleases us' and so forth.  Oh, and this should interest you, they never marry.  It is not an accepted institution with them, as the women and men are also considered as property of the group.  They fornicate once every thirty years in an elaborate public ceremony, never twice to the same mate and never within their kinship group solely for the reason of perpetuating themselves."

"You make him sound like an Immortal." Yennic scoffed contemptuously.  "And just who perpetuated this hearsay, Dwengzur?"

"At first I shared your skepticism," Zhadol smiled condescendingly then shook his head, "but no longer, not after what I'd witnessed during our secret gathering.  After a remarkable demonstration of his powers, we became converts, one and all.

"For instance, when Dwengzur asked to be decapitated, Egil Viggoaries obliged with pleasure.  Then afterwards, the headless body rose from the ground, walked right over to where the severed head had fallen, picked it up and aligned it perfectly back on the neck.  The wound fused right in front of our astonished eyes, and, within seconds, he became whole again; a living, breathing man.  No ordinary man, obviously."

The hair on the nape of Nevetsecnuac's neck rose when he heard this, and he felt an unmistakable knot in his stomach.  “Was it pure coincidence?”  He closed his eyes for a moment to dispel all illogical thoughts.

"It’s a common hypnotic trick, nothing more."

"It was no illusion, I tell you."  The Commander irately insisted, standing his ground, but his voice lacked total conviction.  Looking past Yennic, he shook his head to quickly purge the seeds of doubt that had been planted in his mind. “Sorcerer’s subsequent trick was equally amazing. This time he, after having received the slight nod (permission) from Egil Viggoaries, simply wielded his sword in lightning speed and claimed the head of the recruit Torrez, who just happened to be innocently standing by at close proximity to Dwengzur.

05- SORCERER DWENGZUR

Holding it up high for everyone to see, he then faced the head and charged him with duplicity and a minor fraction, probably a fabricated one; but it was nevertheless enough to seal his fate. The head though reluctantly, responded as if living, breathing thing and confessed to everything. Afterwards, he simply blew a fiery breath at the face, and the decapitated head was instantly reduced to ash.”

"A talking head…? Surely you were all mesmerized." Nevetsecnuac heard Yennic, just then, sneering with arrogant cynicism.

 "Yet, according to you, he bends submissively to His Excellency's will.  Why should he if he possesses such powers?  I ask you, what greater intimidation is there than death?  Why not admit that you were all duped by his masterful trickery?" Yennic unrelentingly goaded the Commander.  Yennic hoped that, if he got him all fired up, Zhadol would get careless.

"Yes, he does bend to Egil Viggoaries's will, for I've seen it.  I'd attest to the truth of that."  Commander Zhadol responded, irritated, his face flushed red and his eyes wide with anger.  He was unwittingly playing right into Lieutenant's hand.  His voice increased slightly in intensity as he added, "And furthermore, he responds without a qualm."

“Like you.” Nevetsecnuac, perched on the tree branch, musing grimaced.

"I confess that aspect has baffled me also.  What's more Dwengzur's obedience stems clearly out of fear.  I wonder what hold Egil Viggoaries has on him. “

 

(END OF SECTION 10)