LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 19

After Nevetsecnuac had consumed his evening repast (meal), he sat down in front of the fireplace and, letting his gaze fall on the dancing flames, waited in thoughtful silence.  At any given moment he expected his late-night visitor to knock at his door, and it was not long before his wait was rewarded.

As anticipated, the stranger, holding a jug of choice wine and two cups, appeared on some pretext and, after knocking, peered in, he then asked to be invited inside.

Nevetsecnuac assented and rising to his feet with reserve, motioned with outstretched hand and half-inclined head, "Please do come in.  I've been expecting your visit."

01- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 25

The captain grimaced wryly, then nodded, entered, and turned to close the door cautiously behind him.  Bowing his head politely, but never taking his eyes off Fradel, he introduced himself as Zunrogo Tugo, Captain of the Palace Guards.

“What?  Zunrogo Tugo; have I heard the name, right?  What are the odds of this happening?”  Nevetsecnuac tensed, recalling what Zhadol had said about this man and his accomplice to Yennic, “Though they may be insignificant in the scheme of things, they have powerful backing and they're treacherous, devoid of all conscience.  That's what makes them deadly for you.”  

Nevetsecnuac’s perfect, serene mask (demeanor) had not changed in the least.  Smiling tightly, he returned the bow and introduced himself as the itinerant scholar, Tonng Yennik.  Noting at once the flicker of displeasure, then of cool calculation in the depth of Zunrogo Tugo’s pupils, Nevetsecnuac smiled inwardly, “As I suspected, you've already checked my identity papers.”

"Delighted to make your acquaintance,” Zunrogo Tugo decided to go along with the charade, at least for the time being.

Tonng Yennik (Nevetsecnuac), a perfect host, motioned the captain to a seat and Zunrogo, deferring the best seat to the Scholar, chose the less comfortable chair.

Zunrogo placed the jug and two empty cups on the small table between them. He proceeded to pour out the wine into one of the cups and then graciously offered the customary draught of friendship, to Tonng Yennik.

Tonng Yennik (Nevetsecnuac), well composed, with thanks accepted the cup of wine and in one gulp drained it; then, filling the other cup, offered it to Zunrogo, reciprocating the gesture. Customary etiquette dispensed with; they soon entered-into a polite conversation.

The topics they discussed, the vast, varying range of their exchange was, in fact, quite irrelevant.  As the two imposing figures, each in turn, mechanically uttered the expected polite rhetoric they were both, underneath it all, intently probing and scrutinizing the other.

Seated across from Tonng Yennik (Fradel), Zunrogo Tugo tried in vain to ferret out the scholar's innermost secrets and gauge his weaknesses, but it was as though Fradel had cocooned his character behind an invincible barrier.  Changing his tack (policy, scheme, ploy) midway, Zunrogo pursued more aggressively and with cunning and trickery, tried to penetrate Fradel's defenses.  When that, too, proved unsatisfactory he tried to subtly goad Fradel towards alternate end.  All the while he felt secure behind the impenetrable wall he kept up around his own personality.

At least that was what he thought.  In this war of acumen and nerves, Nevetsecnuac (Tonng Yennik /Fradel), with his keen perception and resilience eventually eradicated all the obstacles Zunrogo had laid in his path, to subtly gain the advantage and, under the guise of a seemingly passive, cooperative exchange, attained the insight necessary to formulate his own opinion of Zunrogo Tugo.

02- NEVETSECNUAC AS SHOLAR TONNG YENNIC

 Tallying (adding together all the) facts, Nevetsecnuac (Tonng Yennic, Fradel) noted how much more stalwart and intrepid (resolute, hardy) Zunrogo was; moreover, he was infinitely more treacherous and brutal in innate nature, far more than he’d been noted for.  Zunrogo’s complex mind, the depths of his, not easily decipherable, thoughts and, perhaps purposefully misleading and inconsistent habits, made him an extremely dangerous (perilous, death-defying) adversary.  His voice was his only weak link, if you could call it that, for it betrayed his passionless (uncaring) heart.  Despite Zunrogo’s best efforts to appear cordial and disarming in the exchange, there was an underlying intonation of dire indifference and obdurate (adamant) superiority.

“Cold-blooded, arrogant assassin that you are, I know it is not your aim to assassinate (murder) me; or you would have attempted it, long before this meeting.” Nevetsecnuac from the corner of his eye furtively studied this sure foe. “Nevertheless, I expect you will next try astounding me (considering your earlier findings,) with your startling disclosure that you are aware I am Fradel Rurik Korvald; then, after a terse period, magnanimously (rush in to) confer your generous offer of assurance, of safe conduct to the Capital.  And, of course, I'll appear aghast and pretend to let my guard down before, gratefully conceding.  But what else, you're really, after?  What other sinister scheme is lurking underneath that icy surface?  Yes, of course …” Nevetsecnuac nodded absentmindedly, while outwardly, seemingly, agreeing with the captain's most recently advanced viewpoint.

Adding a few pointers of his own, he continued to assess Zunrogo, “Yes, you are burdened with a far greater task than just the safe delivery of the scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald.  Is this a sample of how your master operates?  Ploy (stratagem) within a ploy; while never leaving anything to chance until everything, no matter how trivial, is considered?  Hmm, I'll wager that even Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren is ignorant of the extent of your duplicity.  Very well, I'll feed you sufficient, deceptive, disarming information for your report.  And when you drop or, relax your vigil, then you’ll be dealt with more decisively; for you are one complication I can do without.”

Impressed by the scholar's brilliance of rhetoric, the captain, for the time being, had been forced to inwardly acknowledge that, since all the observations tallied (matched, checked, fit) accorded) perfectly, his host was indeed the real Fradel Rurik Korvald and not some mastermind impostor who had merely acquired his papers.  Yet, instead of being pleased at the favorable outcome of his search, Zunrogo remained very ill at ease.

“Is it just my suspicious nature?  Has the course of this job made me inherently paranoid?  No, this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach is real and all my senses collectively, are sounding dire alarm.  Besides, there are few inconsistencies here that need to be ironed out; true, but they alone are not enough to warrant this hunch, this instinct to strike out at him now with all the deadly force I can muster.  He may even put up a good fight, judging by his robust physique.  How could a mere scholar look so strong, even if he has been living in the mountain wilderness, in isolation, for purported many years?  Yet all the points of contention have been satisfied.  I don't doubt my thoroughness.  Even the absence of his servants has been explained.  I suppose I could hold him here and verify his story, but that would squander precious time, one I can ill- afford, if I am to succeed in my mission. On the other hand, my hunches have never erred, not once in my (lifetime) entire life.”

“But what if, just this once, my intuition is leading me astray?  With such grave consequences at stake, how can I justify this sort of rash action? “

 “Besides, once we reach the Capital, there will be ample time to uncover (discover) the truth, and there, there will be no escape for him.  If he's other than what he claims, he will easily be exposed and eradicated.  Now it is time to end this bantering and get on with the task at hand.”

Half the jug had already been consumed even though Nevetsecnuac, aware of his own intolerance, had been most careful in his intake, taking longer and longer to consume the contents of each cup and accepting only toppings instead of the full cups Zunrogo poured himself.  Still, Zunrogo showed only the minimal signs of intoxication and that, Nevetsecnuac suspected, was also a pretense, a farce not unlike their congenial exchange.

"I am aware, sir, that most scholars of your obvious stature take on, for reasons of privacy, a pseudonym (alias).  May I be so bold, then, as to presume that this is also the case with you and to guess your true designation (name)?" Zunrogo said, ignoring Fradel's facade of slight surprise.

Nevetsecnuac studied the captain in silence, purposely prolonging the supposed suspense.  With a totally unreadable expression he then settled back, "You are most perceptive, sir.  Perhaps you will then tell me who it is that you suspect me of really being after which, I expect, you will be kind enough to reveal to me your real purpose for being in my room at this late hour."

Zunrogo took the bait.  "You are, of course, the very illustrious poet Fradel Rurik Korvald and you have been summoned into His Royal Highness' presence."

The scholar's response was not the expression of surprise that Zunrogo would have expected from one less astute than Fradel Rurik Korvald.

"You have me at a disadvantage, sir.  How long have you known?"

"Since your arrival," Zunrogo lied, hiding his admiration. “It’s a pity you chose a literary career, you sir, would have made an excellent statesman.  You have the natural ability for it.”

"Yet you waited until now to confront me with this knowledge?" Fradel frowned and eyed Zunrogo suspiciously.

"I meant no disrespect, honored sir." the captain hastened to apologize then briefly explained his reasons for coming here.

Fradel looked skeptical.  "Please do not take this the wrong way.  You say that you have been charged by the Offices of the Prime Minister, Lamont Gudaren, with the responsibility of ensuring my safe conduct and timely arrival?"

"Yes.  To do otherwise would be a dereliction of my duty, for which I would be severely punished." Zunrogo interrupted to stress the point.

“I doubt that would be the case.” Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) grimaced wryly. 

"Yet, sir, you have neglected to tell me who it is that I require protection from.  As you well know, I have lived in seclusion most of my life, adapting to a stringent, pious lifestyle; this, to get closer to the natural world which I love to write about.  Outside of family, I have not interacted with anyone any significant length of time to incur animosity.  My literary efforts are not political, nor can they be misconstrued as offensive to any of the noble gentry or bureaucratic class.  Even my deceased father had no affiliations whatsoever with any political group, and no enemies to speak of.  Who then would conspire to harm me?  Holger Province is free, as far as I can see, of all bad elements."

“How much do you really know?” Zunrogo raised an eyebrow slightly as he considered Fradel's question. “Oh, but there's no way you could possibly be informed.”

Zunrogo dropped his guard to laugh sourly; after which he said, “To be sure, law and order are strictly upheld in this province but the existing danger to your esteemed self is, none the less, quite real."

"Why do you insist on being cryptic, sir?" Fradel huffed in exasperation.

"I'm sorry.  I wish I could be more obliging (helpful), but I am not at liberty to disclose anything further." Zunrogo shook his head.  "Perhaps once you have safely reached Channing…”

Looking away thoughtfully, he added, "I'll say only this - that it is a political matter."  Returning his gaze to Fradel he added, "Please excuse me for saying this, but your own involvement is purely incidental."

“You just refuse to commit yourself, but I won't let you off the hook that easily.”  Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) stared back, his demeanor unchanged.

 "I do not appreciate evasive answers, Captain.  I would much rather that you be candid with me.  If, as you have suggested, we are to complete the rest of this journey in each other’s company, then I propose that we learn to trust one another, starting now."  Fradel paused to look meaningfully at Zunrogo, who remained in thoughtful silence for a moment.

“I don't know what you mean,” Zunrogo almost said, but then stopped himself.  An amused smile crept across his face, and he broke into a laugh.

"You are far too clever for me, sir."

"Flattery offends me even more, Captain Tugo." Fradel dismissed the remark curtly, maintaining the arrogant bearing of a scholar.

 "Now I must insist on being told the details which pertain to me that is, if you wish to enlist my full cooperation, sir.  Otherwise, I must insist that, we have nothing further to discuss."  Fradel's stare was unrelenting as he leaned back, still watching Zunrogo Tugo with cold, unblinking eyes.

Zunrogo felt hard pressed to reveal the truth, or to find another plausible explanation convincing enough to assuage Fradel's sharp mind. “Why should I even expend the energy to sway this upstart, when a partial truth may serve as well?  The report excluded mention of your stubborn nature.”

Zunrogo’s smile tightened imperceptibly as he burrowed his gaze at Fradel, scrutinizing him intently.  “I don't know how you found out, but you already know, don't you?  Now you want me to commit myself.  Very well, I'll meet your requirements halfway.”

Zunrogo Tugo shifted uneasily in the chair, laughed sourly and, nodding his head, made a show of resignation.

When he leaned forward to speak, his voice was low, but crisp, "Very well, I will oblige you by being frank, but I trust that the subject of this discussion will be held in confidentiality."  He drained his cup, waiting for Fradel's nod of affirmation.

03-ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 24

On receiving it he put back the empty cup, took a breath and continued in an unwavering tone, "You need not be concerned with this, but our Prime Minister, like all eminent men who uphold this effective and strict administration, has incurred the hatred of some powerful enemies who would stop at nothing to undermine his righteous endeavors.  Since it was Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren who recommended your illustrious self to the emperor at court, he feels naturally bound by the responsibility of seeing that your travel should be uninterrupted and comfortable.  This added precaution was taken in the anticipation of possible trouble or in order to preclude even the least unpleasantness from manifesting itself." 

He grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry if my previous reckless words have magnified the situation and led you to believe that there was real potential for danger here.  I confess, I am somewhat inept at diplomacy, as all military personnel are, I suppose.  I sincerely hope that you will overlook my shortcomings, however, and set your mind at ease.  The danger to your person is only a supposition.  No blatant or obvious threat has been voiced thus far."

“Thus far… You must really believe that I am that naive.” Nevetsecnuac mused. “All right, I'll let that pass for now, besides it is better you think that of me.  From what I've heard, he'd never do that, but go on if you must, keep his name out of it.  Besides, your clumsy attempts to cover up the inconsistencies are growing rather tiresome.”

"In truth," Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), obviously suppressing a yawn, consented amicably, "the trek here has been rather tiresome (dull) if not arduous.  I would, therefore, be most happy to accept your gracious offer of companionship; during the course of which I will look forward to being informed of the latest developments in Channing, so that I won't feel totally out of sorts there."

"I’ll do my best to (oblige) enlighten you.” Zunrogo beamed arrogantly.

“Indeed, so much has transpired even during these last few months, let alone years but I think that I've delayed your sleep long enough.  I will detain you no longer."  Now that he had secured what he wanted, Zunrogo abruptly rose to his feet and, without further ado, he wished Fradel a good night and took his leave.  There were a few neglected details that had been preying on the back of his mind all during their exchange that he wanted to lay to rest before the night was done.

                                                                                      ~

 

(END OF SECTION 19)                                                                             

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 18

Soon as Tonng Yennik’s receding (diminishing) footsteps was heard going down the stairs, the door of Room Ten creaked open and the stranger, followed by his stout guard both, emerged at outside. After making sure there was no one loitering about in the hall, at his cue, his stout assistant promptly took up his post in front of Room Twelve while the stranger producing his master key, entered the room.    Once at the interior, he first briefly surveyed the layout of the room, considering (bearing in mind) with a calculating gleam in his eye, where Tonng Yennik had left his luggage.  Grinning wryly, he next, turned to the opposite end and decisively walked over to the anticipated, precise spot where Tonng Yennik would have secured the papers.  Retrieving the bundle from the cavity behind the loose wall paneling, he carefully removed the contents and studied them.  He nodded absentmindedly, his sinister grin showing a slight glee of satisfaction.

 Afterwards he carefully replaced it just as he had found it and, not disturbing anything else in the room, turned and swiftly went out (exited, left).

01- FAMOUS BATHOUSE- SPA (6)JPG

In one of the private bathing chambers, Nevetsecnuac, despite his natural reserve, keeping up with the pretense, had allowed himself to be helped out of his clothes by the skimpily clad, ravishingly attractive (pleasant to the eye) young attendants (male or female); however, he’d refused all the additional, complementary perks, such as, special drinks and variety of morsels, soothing incense, potions or special ointments and massages (reflexology, acupressure, shiatzu, rubbing etc) that were designed to soothe any tense muscles, as well, enrich the bathing experience. The group of professionals promptly dismissed, they left with an obvious dejected, disappointed pout registering on each one’s faces.

 Refusing also any special accompaniment and having already donned (put on) a special cloth kilt (sarong) fastened around his waist (the rest of the garb, attire, flowing loose), which allowing him some modesty, Nevetsecnuac quietly climbed into (entered) the large pool and then immersed (engulfed) his body to midway to chest , delighting in the  steaming hot, perfumed waters. He swam to the far side, away from other customers, not wishing to idle converse with anyone and turned his back to the few other male guests who were already bathing, swooshing about complacently in the water, tended to by nubile attendants.

02- NEVETSECNUAC IN A BATHOUSE (19)JPG

Tonng Yennik’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) own clothes, meanwhile, were quickly whisked away to be cleaned and scented and in their place a plush long, embroidered terrycloth garb (garment) had been deposited, in anticipation of his leisurely recline on a sofa, as he might rest there, perhaps sleep, partake food and refreshments, or something else, depending on his preferred requirements, after his bath. In any event he would be pampered, till he chose to return to his private room at the inn. 

As he quietly set down on the submerged bench at the periphery of the pool, a sudden shriek ensued by a rude, boisterous laugh from one of the guests drew his attention and he half turned his head to gage what all the commotion had been about. The corner of his eye instead, caught sight of a curious looking, solitary man who appeared very much ill at ease, not at all enjoying the bath, though immersed to shoulders, in the hottest, steamiest section, at the far-off corner off the pool. Just then he, having had enough soaking, went out of the pool and sat at the bench, in supposedly thoughtful repose.

03-NEVETSECNUAC IN A BATHOUSE (27)-JPG

 Intrigued, Nevetsecnuac from hence, covertly watched the man. And when one of the attendants seductively lavished irresistible attention on him, the man had arrogantly, in an atypical (odd, nonconforming) way had feigned a passive disinterest, while continuing to discreetly, over the shoulder of the unsuspecting attendant, to spy, to scrutinize Tonng Yannik (Nevetsecnuac).  Moment later he was back in water, thinking that he would be more imperceptible (unseeable, hidden) while he kept on with his prying (snooping); he’d then even allowed one of the attendants to fuss on him.

Meanwhile, the notable (powerful) stranger (which had intrigued Nevetsecnuac, the one in the dining hall), and his intimidating guards, were nowhere to be seen; he clearly having bypassed (avoided) this spa experience.

Just then, expectantly, Kjeld Rosko’s assistant Rodny appeared on the scene, carrying a bundle of clothes tugged under his arm.  He started perspiring profusely the instant he had entered the area because he was fully dressed and so, with the back of his hand he wiped the perspiration off his brow, as he scrutinized the tubs, looking for someone specific, with urgent eyes.

04-ASSISTANT RODNEY

Catching the eye of the specific spy, he gave the barest (basic) of nods and, leaving the clothes close at hand, in one of the private chambers, quickly turned on his heels and left.  Responding immediately, the spy after his furtive glace around, making sure this had escaped notice, he rudely shoved the attendant aside and, disregarding the plaintive grunts, promptly got out of the water.  Nevetsecnuac imagined him hastily dressing himself in the clothes left by the assistant Rodny. Shortly after he’d emerged at the outside of the chamber smiling bleakly and then stole a brief side glance at Tonng Yennik before he hurried out the door.

Nevetsecnuac nodded in understanding, “Go ahead, have a good, hard look as you are ordered to do.  I'll even take an extra-long time enjoying my bath to avail you all the time you need, for thorough scrutiny and concrete (firm) validation of my identity papers.”

05- NEVETSECNUAC IN A BATHOUSE (21)- JPG

Nevetsecnuac closing his eyes then,  sank his body further down, allowing it  to be enveloped  by the  hot, therapeutic, mineral waters that also nourished the soul; inwardly however, having noted the  prevalent collusions (intrigues, conspiracies)being common as the, breath of air,  in this Province, Nevetsecnuac could not help  but hypothesize on the number of  factions that at present, might be nestled under this very roof of the Inn. 

After the long, relaxing time, Nevetsecnuac don (put on) the terrycloth garb and smiled, rather pleased with the comfort the plush robe tendered. He however had sternly (adamantly) refused the attendant’s alluring advances and the offers of special massage, smoke, exotic foods, liquids, and plus various other tantalizing bonuses, and instead, headed straight back to his room to consume the hot meal he had previously ordered.

                                                                                ~

In Room Ten the meeting was just ending. Fradel Rurik Korvald's identity had been confirmed, and the men had been briefed and each allocated to his own special task.

 In summary, the stranger seated at the head of the table, was now ordering his guards to proceed swiftly with the execution of the greater plan as soon as they left through the room's hidden back door.

"Now see to it that all the loose ends are taken care of.  It must all look like an accident.  No incriminating thread must be left that would lead to us.  Is that understood?"  There was no real need for this (drill) warning, for they had done this a hundred times before.

"Yes, Captain." the three responded in unison.

The captain waved them away, "Good, you're dismissed.  All that is, save Tizan.  I'd like a few words with you."  He motioned the stern guard to a seat then waited until they were left in private.  Leaning forward the captain asked: "Have you seen to the matter of that spy?"

"Yes sir." Tizan responded briskly.  "He is now with his ancestors.  As per your orders, we relaxed our vigil, and it all went just as anticipated.  That fool led us straight to him in the bathing hall.  The stupidity of that man never can surprise me."

He shook his head in contempt, “Forsaking the lives of his own father, wife, and infant son to send word to Egil Viggoaries’s forces by way of that spy.  Is that addle-brained or what?  Then again," he shrugged dispassionately and leaned back a little, "his fate and theirs are sealed nonetheless."  Stroking his thin beard, he smiled wryly and gave a knowing wink.

This sudden, strange familiarity bothered the captain. Though he trusted Tizan more than the rest, he looked at him guardedly.  Tizan had won his confidence some five years previous, which was no mean feat.  At the risk of his own hide, this guard had rescued him from a very tight situation.  Unquestionably Tizan was bold and confident, but his heart was hard, harder than stone, and it bore a genuine contempt for the rest of mankind.  In part, that had been the reason why Tizan had been entrusted with the most important and most difficult tasks.  He knew that Tizan could execute even the most horrendous murders expeditiously and without question and without a qualm.  In that time, however, his relationship with Tizan had always been strictly formal, distant, and cold.  He preferred it, that way to maintain impartiality and strict discipline.  In this service, it meant survival.  In such a task force any member, any subordinate could be severed instantly, effectively, and without qualm if they strayed or got out of line.  So why is Tizan being so insubordinate?  As useful as he is, he is still expendable.  When his eyes met Tizan's, the Captain's expression was totally unreadable, a purposeful move meant to unnerve his subordinate.  Seeing Tizan snap back into military bearing without showing the least sign of discomfort at his scrutiny, he knew his point had been made.

Captain narrowed his eyes, deciding to overlook the matter this time.  Assuming a stern expression, he asked, "Any difficulty in attaining", and then stole a glance at the door before he leaned forward to frame the rest of his question in a whisper.

"No, sir;" Tizan replied tersely.

06-TZAN JP

"Good.  You have much to accomplish tonight but remember; there are to be no witnesses."

"Yes sir."

"You may go now."  The captain turned his attention to the document he had just removed from his inner pocket.

Tizan stood up smartly and walked towards the door.  His hand reached out for the door handle, then ceased mid-way.  On the other side he could hear the frightened eavesdropper scrambling to get clear of the door.

“You are stinking piece of offal,” Tizan gave a scornful, venomous smile then, with a calculating gleam in his eyes, withdrew his hand and stole a look back towards the captain.

"Is there something else?"  The captain, seated back to the door, lifted his head from his reading to demand.

Tizan looked back to the door, “I’ll force your hand yet, you slimy weasel! “Turning about smartly, Tizan responded, "May I have a word with you, sir?

"Can't it wait?"  The captain asked, aware of the slight hesitation in Tizan's voice.

 “I suppose that you are now going to alert me to Briac's doings. “Captain smiled knowingly and, folding the document once more, returned it to the inner pocket.  Half turning to throw a curious glance at the door, then at Tizan, he nodded and indicated the chair with his chin.  "Be sure to make it brief." he warned.

Tizan took a breath.  "May I speak frankly, sir?"

"You are trying my patience, Tizan." the captain barked.

 "Speak up, man, I haven't got all night!  Say what you will and be done with it!"

"It's Briac, sir that I wish to warn you about.  I know he's been with you for a long time, a lot longer than I have, but of late - how shall I put this - I've noted serious inconsistencies in him, especially in the way he's always overreacting, as if he has something to cover up - like that ruckus he raised in the dining hall.  It’s all to impress you, sir."

"Do you realize the seriousness of your accusation, Tizan?"  The captain drowned a frown.  "You had better have some solid evidence to substantiate your claim.  Well, have you?"

His irate bark caught Tizan by surprise.  This was not the reaction he had expected to receive from the more perceptive, the more discerning Captain.

 Startled at that moment, he came to believe that the captain was dressing him down, berating him in earnest, so convincing was, his superior's playacting and, in that moment, Tizan almost lost his head.

“How dare he?  Captain or no Captain, no one talks to me like that and lives!”  He clenched his fist, his chest rose and fell, and his eyes bored angrily into the captain's face.

The coldness of his gaze touched the captain to the core.  Still unrelenting, he stared back at Tizan belligerently, the threat most explicit in his silence.

Tizan blanched and lowered his eyes.

"I conclude by your silence that you have none." The captain finally ejected angrily.

 "I'm disappointed in you, Tizan."  His voice became markedly different. Touch concern took root and mellowed his subsequent stern tones, "You should consider yourself fortunate that I know your character well, Tizan.  I know, for instance, that you have a measure of integrity that places you above petty, malicious slanders.  Your obvious contempt of late for Briac could not fail to come to my attention.  It does not matter who, or what substantiated this observation.  I was hoping that this damaging rift would be resolved of its own accord without need for my interference, but I see now that I must deal with this forcefully.  I order you to drop this nonsense at once and, furthermore, you are to make every effort to get along peacefully with Briac.  No more friction.  I will not tolerate any dissension within this group.  Do you understand me?  If you don't, I'll be forced to deal with you more severely."

“That’s telling him, Captain.”  Outside the door, Briac with a smirk on his face, derided (jeered, scoffed, sneered).  Well, what you know…. all those Years of diligence sure paid off.  Imagine that; Frastos putting in a good word for me.  I always liked him best.  Maybe I can use him to more advantage.” 

07- BRIAC (3)

In contrast to his angry words of admonishment, however, the captain, his back to the door, bore a peaceful expression.  Tizan was baffled until, at the end, the captain half turned, threw a cursory glance at the door, and gave Tizan an accommodating smile.  Suddenly Tizan grasped the situation and his indignation spontaneously melted.

“So, this entire scene had been played out, all, for the benefit of that excrement’ eavesdropper, Briac… The captain, then, wants me to watch Briac carefully, monitor his actions but do nothing for the time being.  Perhaps the captain has a specific use for him, like relaying false information at some crucial time” Tizan nodded dutifully.

Briac standing outside with his ear to the door, unaware of the ploy against him, grinned from ear to ear, when he heard the captain say, "Now listen, Tizan.  I will not have you speak ill of Briac; he is an exemplary and most trusted officer.”

“In the long while that he has been in my service, he has never given me cause to have a single concern or raised the least reason to doubt his loyalty. I repeat, I will not have you slandering a good officer!"

"Yes sir.  I'm sorry, sir.  I will do as you say, sir." Tizan begrudgingly agreed to the captain's demands.

“Go ahead, crawl.  Then crawl some more.  It does my heart good to hear you being chewed out for once.” Briac snickered outside.

"All right; In view of your past good record, I'll forget this unpleasant incident for now."

“Oh no; you're letting him off the hook way too easy!” Briac gritted his teeth in disappointment.

"Thank you, sir, for giving me this chance. I shall mend my failing (flaw) and make things right." Tizan stood up and awaited a dismissal that was purposefully delayed giving Briac time to flee to safe distance.

                                                                                   

                                                                                    ~

 

(END OF SECTION 18) 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 13

It was Nevetsecnuac's intention to ensure Fradel's safety by trailing him from afar until Fradel had reached Toren.  Only when, at dusk, the city walls had come into view had Nevetsecnuac spurred Fradel's horse towards the hills where he embarked on a shorter route to Channing. 

At first Nevetsecnuac, forgetting that his mount was not Fiery Comet, pressed on with speed through the night, taxing the horse's strength.  When he realized his folly, however, he showed more restraint and took more frequent rests.

01- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD

Fradel, entering the city gates, his first task had been to accost a respectable-looking citizen, to gain directions to the Magistrate's Office; but being pegged a defenseless stranger who, by some good fortune, had dodged (evaded) the habitual attacks of the bandits that had incessantly plagued the region, unwittingly instead, drew a large crowd around Fradel.

Many of the curious onlookers, approaching him now, probed him incessantly for information while others, seeing Fradel was uncooperative, spread their own wild suppositions at the back of the throng.  As the milling crowd became more restless, officers of the law suddenly appeared on site, to disperse the unruly public and pushed their way to the center to seize the presumed instigator (troublemaker).

They allowed Fradel no chance to air his grievance or tender his request, they instead, forcefully hustled him straight to the Magistrate's Offices.  Since the Magistrate had by then retired, they incarcerated the scholar for the night under lock and key, despite all his protests.

As the more sensible officer had explained the next morning, the mysterious disappearance of other plaintiffs in the past had necessitated these kinds of drastic measures. 

After being given a basin of water with which to wash up, Fradel was brought before the presiding Magistrate, Yakove Zewe, in order to lodge his complaint. 

The Magistrate gave a start when he read the name of Fradel Rurik Korvald as the plaintiff standing before him, then raised his eyes to scrutinize Fradel.  He knitted his brows in skepticism then ordered him to approach the bench for questioning.

 Forced to remain on his knees for the entire time, Fradel was most thoroughly and rigidly interrogated by the long-faced Magistrate as the facts were duly recorded by the Judicial Secretary.

In the telling of his ordeal, Fradel vehemently poured out his indignation at the cruelty and barbarism of the bandits and their leader who had nearly succeeded in killing him.  Embellishing the details of the fight that had ensued between the bandits and the stranger who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, Fradel told of how the masked stranger, with remarkable bearing and superior skill, had vanquished the bandit's leader and many of the felons, forcing the rest to flee for their very lives.  Then, having delivered Fradel from this dire, desperate predicament the stranger had, in turn, robbed Fradel of his baggage and valuables, including his identity papers and summons, and had left him destitute, stranded in the middle of nowhere. Of course, Fradel took credit for his servant's full, and the bandit's partial burials in order to explain his delay in presenting his accusations to the Judiciary.

"You’re Honor, without my papers how can I dare show my face at the Capital?"

 Fradel, in a convincing ploy, broke down and wept.  He then implored the magistrate to apprehend all the felons and bring them to justice in the shortest time possible.  He also asked for the Magistrate's assistance in furnishing him the means to send words to Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren in order to explain his current circumstances and beg forgiveness for his unavoidable delay while he returned to his home province of Birgershing to obtain new documents.

02- -MAGISTRATE YAKOVE ZEWE

“Who does he think he is? The nerve of him; expecting my help, when even the question of his identity has not yet been confirmed. The Magistrate was incensed. Still, this is most serious. If these allegations prove to be correct and he is who he claims to be, I'll be in a terrible fix.  I would then be forced to assist him in forwarding his report about this lawlessness in my domain, being the reason for his delay.  His Honor, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren, is most powerful, I dare not be remiss!”  Magistrate, Yakove Zewe at this point vacillated.

“Yet, the letter would still land me in terrible trouble.  The personal consequences would be immeasurable. According to this so-called Scholar’s testimony, the other robbers were all bested and then buried. Am I supposed to take him on his word that this arrogant, pampered Scholar took the pains after being robbed to do the honorable thing, like bury those culprits, albeit shallow graves?  I’ll surely be laughed at, may even be dismissed from my post and struck from the official list for incompetence, for believing in such a ludicrous story or, for failing to do my duty and not bringing bandits and this outlaw (one who has robbed him of his ID papers) to justice. I am sunk either way! Any investigation would reveal how outlaws had run amok for two years, robbing and injuring good citizens in this region.  Heaven knows how I've tried every means to annihilate them, but those cursed bandits seem so well organized, so prescient that all measures were ineffective.  I've already lost too many good men in the process.  His Excellency, Rexi, has so far been most tolerant of my circumstances and lenient with my shortcomings, but they would not see it that way at the Capital.  I've striven so hard and for so long just to get this post, I'll be damned if I lose it now.  Now why couldn't I have someone like that powerful stranger, if he truly exists, on my staff?”

Yakove Zewe heaved a sigh, "No one is going anywhere until we have ascertained all the facts."  He sternly raised his hand to cut short Fradel's protests then proceeded with more questions.

When asked why the stranger had also not taken his horse when he took everything else, Fradel claimed that, at the time the horse had spooked and ran away, returning on his own accord further down the road.  When (lone surviving) Fradel had finished relaying all of the purported facts, Magistrate Yakove Zewe then dispatched six deputies to the scene of the alleged robbery to investigate further and verify the facts.

Next, another warrant was signed, and a large force was dispatched to scour the surrounding countryside for the bandits.  The order was also given to draw up pictures and notices about the robbers, according to Fradel's description of them, and to post these notices at all the major intersections of the city and junctions of the outlying roads.

 A hefty reward was offered for any information leading to their capture and threats of a heavier penalty were issued for anyone caught shielding them or withholding any information that would in any way hinder their apprehension. 

Though skeptical of Fradel's identity, the Magistrate still ordered the detainment of Fradel at the government Hostel rather than the jail.  There Fradel would be furnished with writing implements and be permitted to write his letter to the Minister of Culture.  Guards would be posted, not so much as to prevent Fradel's escape but to afford him protection from any reprisals from the bandits.

The court, after an unusually long session, which took meticulous care to ascertain all these matters were lawfully handled, was then promptly adjourned to await the return of the deputies.

When the partially decomposed corpses of Fradel's servants and the bandits were dug up and brought into court a couple of days later, Magistrate Yakove Zewe, amid the intimidating shouts of the bailiffs and flanked by his clerks, reconvened the court.

 The stench from the bodies speeded up the proceedings as the corpses were briefly examined by the court's Medical Officer then identified by Fradel before they were hastily (taken away) removed.

The preliminary search of the servants ‘bodies had produced, in accordance with Fradel's disposition, two sets of identity papers stating they were servants indentured to the illustrious scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald.

The subsequent day, by some good fortune, one of the robbers was turned in by the physician when he had sought medical aid for his festering wounds.  Magistrate Yakove was highly pleased with this recent development and, ordered the man brought into the presence of the court at once. 

The heavily guarded bandit, wearing a neck brace and chains attached to his ankles, waist and wrists was duly (fetched) retrieved. 

The tense atmosphere at his entrance in court was shattered and replaced by a surge of laughter, when the once feared outlaw, pathetically just then, was tripped to the floor.

Order quickly restored; Fradel was brought forth to identify the accused. This concluded, Fradel was ordered to wait outside while the prisoner was then further tortured and interrogated. 

Despite the severe beatings, cuts, burns and numerous blows to the head, the defiant bandits had proven most difficult to break.  He not only adamantly refused to reveal his name or betray the identities and whereabouts of his colleagues, but with unusual strength and courage, his eyes ablaze with anger, he cursed and spat at them, hurling vile insults and threats at the Magistrate, those present in the court and at Fradel outside. 

Some of the observers cowed in their places attempting to retreat into obscurity.  In response to Yakove's order to silence the prisoner the deputies rained more blows on the bandit and, when order was again restored, the Magistrate, now in a towering rage, ordered the ankle screws to be brought in.  Plenty of fighting spirit was still left in the sputtering prisoner as four large bailiffs held him while two deputies fitted on the ankle bracelets.  His sliced open leg made it all the more agonizing for him when they started to apply the pressure with the screws.

"Increase the pressure." Magistrate Yakove Zewe ordered with a sinister sneer to the men.  The bandit howled in agony yet still defiantly resisted capitulating.

His anguished cries permeating the air grated on Fradel's ears.  He rose and agitatedly paced the crimson floor of the hall in bold strides. What further need was there to detain him in this way?  Why must he bear witness to such inhumanity? 

He grew even more disgusted when he observed the pleasure the grinning guards derived from the hollering bandit's pain and their indifference to the other plaintiffs waiting as they boisterously exchanged stories, trying to outdo each other with tales of other tortures they had witnessed.

The torture went on for some time until the ankle screws finally broke into six pieces and the prisoner had lost consciousness.  The bandit did not respond to the attempts to revive him or even to the pain of added torture.  The court had failed to extract even the least bit of information from him.  "Put him on the rack, then." the fuming Magistrate Yakove Zewe thundered. 

"Break all his bones until you break his will, but on no account let him die until he tells me what I want to know."  Shouting their assent, the bailiffs dragged the broken, bloodied body back outside the court, pulling him by his feet past the waiting Fradel Rurik Korvald.

A trusted clerk now approached the bench and submitting his findings in a whisper to the magistrate, handed him the confiscated, still sealed, letter written by Fradel.  Alarmed, the Magistrate Yakove Zewe flushed, and perspiration beaded on his forehead.  Abruptly he recessed the court and ordered Fradel Rurik Korvald to be brought at once to his private chambers in back.

There, greeting Fradel with broad smiles, he took the scholar by the hand and, apologizing for the inconvenience he'd caused him, showed him to a comfortable seat.  With affected gentility he offered Fradel some tea and invited him to be his honored guest in his own humble home where he could show him his collection of the scholar's published works.  He expressed great admiration for Fradel's writings, saying that he read them often.  In truth, he found the work too intense for his own shallow and superficial nature and had only collected these writings in order to curry favor with his more refined superiors.  In private he showed his discordant nature to his confidants, calling Fradel's work overrated and not deserving of the recognition it enjoyed.

A muddleheaded simpleton of sorts, Yakove Zewe would have been totally befuddled with Fradel's recent work in progress.  Initiated after he had started on his way to the capital and existing at present only as an outline in Fradel's thoughts, this intense, politically based work was in stark contrast to the earlier flowery, but only moderately complex, tributes to nature and beauty that formed the bulk of Yakove 's, and the nobility's, collections.  Despite the danger Fradel presented, Yakove was opportunistic enough to jump at the chance to ingratiate himself with the famous scholar, always mindful of the windfall of prestige and privilege that this would bring. If only, if he could secure one original poem from his grateful guest!

Very much pressed, Fradel reluctantly acquiesced to the Magistrate's wishes to stay as his honored guest until, as Yakove put it, “his strength and good health returned, and his wounds healed well enough to stand the arduous journey home”.  Fradel was also assured that the letter he had written in the Hostel had already been forwarded by a special courier to Channing. 

Soon after Fradel was settled into his new quarters and his immediate needs were seen to, he was again imposed upon by his very courteous and obliging host to attend a private feast given in the scholar's honor.

 Magistrate Yakove Zewe, having plied Fradel with lavish food, fine spirits and good entertainment, rose to make his fifth toast to his guest.  Extolling Fradel's virtues and accomplishments, he then cajoled his other guests who then responded on cue and importuned Fradel to favor them with a verse to commemorate this fine evening and this festive gathering.

"Please do not begrudge us, few of your precious words." they all chimed in chorus.

Suppressing his indignation and outrage at this obvious coaching, Fradel demurred, claiming intoxication and fatigue.  He then asked to be excused and hastily retired from the feast, leaving the flustered Yakove to stew in his own chagrin. 

The other guests, sensing their host's antagonistic mood, one by one took their leave under various guises and brought the assembly to a quick end.  Alone in the dining hall, the Magistrate continued on with his drinking, shifting his indignation and hatred away from the real source onto his wife. He cursed and belittled her unmercifully.  Finally, growing hoarse in voice and dizzy in the head, he fell into a deep stupor and was carried off to his bed.

The following morning, as soon as Magistrate Yakove was able to get away, he took the letter Fradel had supposedly already sent to the Capital and a copy of the court case and, traveling by palanquin, set off for the office of the Provincial Commissioner of Justice, Birgergu Gunt, to seek his advice on how best to extricate himself from this dilemma, short of capturing all the bandits, as well as to boast about his competent handling of the case thus far.

03 -BIRGERGU GUNT

 Once Magistrate Yakove Zewe had been announced, Birgergu, quickly concluding or putting aside all his other business, came out in person to welcome and usher his childhood friend into his private study.  After his careful perusal of the report, however, the red-faced Commissioner frowned, alarming Yakove anew.

"This is most unfortunate.  Brother-in-law, I warned you long ago to give priority to apprehending these bandits. You should have allocated most of your constables to dealing with this matter.  Now that things have come to such a pass, I fear I may not be able to shield you from the repercussions.  As it is, his Excellency Rexi is already furious with you over the indelicate way you handled the Courtesan Yule Reidun."

"But, sir, how could I have known she was His Excellency's favorite?"

"Never mind that," Birgergu curtly waved his objection away.

"This business with the scholar is most serious.  I'm afraid that, this time, you're on your own. I will certainly not perjure myself before the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren to cover up your incompetence."

“Then I’m as good as destroyed. “Magistrate Yakove Zewe’s distress became even more acute.

“You can be so melodramatic!” Brigergu frowned.

 "I implore you, sir, please do not forsake me."  Yakove, trembling, dropped to his knees and, clasping his hands together obsequiously, cried despondently.

 Crouching before Birgergu in wailing supplication, he further pleaded, "You know of my situation!  You know very well how I've tried my utmost, how I've utilized everything within my power to alleviate this problem.  Besides, now we've caught one of them it will only be a matter of time before we make him talk.  Can't you cover up for me for just a while, just long enough for my objective to be reached?  I will make it worth your while.  Haven't I always been most generous with my appreciation of your past favors?”

"All right, all right…  Do not distress yourself."  Birgergu, assuming a condescending air, raised the Magistrate to his feet.

 "But, owing to this matter's importance, I'm bound by my duty to report this to the Governor at once.  However," Birgergu stalled to prolong Yakove's misery as he stroked his well-groomed beard, "very well, for my sister’s sake I will again speak kindly of you in my report and assure him that everything is under control.  Perhaps he'll show leniency.  Take my council, however, and dispatch this letter this very day to its proper destination.

 It's far too dangerous for you to be withholding such information from the Capital.  And do not detain this distinguished scholar, either, but provide him with adequate means and a measure of security on his speedy return journey.”

"Hmm… For obvious reasons I cannot be seen to be involved in this case.  When I do see the Governor, I will assure His Excellency that the scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald is properly taken care of and has already departed our province.  Perhaps you'll be spared an investigation by the Capital and His Excellency's wrath."

Taking off his gauze cap, the Magistrate Yakove Zewe fell to his knees bowing repeatedly, pouring out his gratitude to his brother-in-law, promising to invite him soon to a grand feast, then left to expedite Fradel's departure. 

                                                                                    ……

Yakove was halfway home when he sighted on the horizon the dark, billowing smoke pouring up from the direction of his offices, the offices containing the court documents, criminal records, and the jail containing the unfortunate prisoner.

A short time later, a view of the grisly scene confirmed Yakove’s worst fears.  An arsonist had set off a huge fire that had already devoured most of the building and, fueled by the winds; it was now spreading down the street, turning the homes, tea houses and shops in its wake into piles of smoldering cinders.

 It was dusk before the fire was carried under control and the exhausted Magistrate Yakove Zewe was able to return to his home.

“Oh, how true it is!” Magistrate Yakove bemoaned soon as he crossed the threshold of his opulent abode. “Troubles never afflict men singly, but at least the letter is dispatched to the Capital.”

When he called on Fradel Rurik Korvald that night the distinguished scholar again expressed his strong desire, not to delay unnecessarily, his departure for his home province. To Fradel’s relief, this time Magistrate Yakove Zewe did not insist on keeping him, nor did Yakove offer contrary arguments.

 "Because of my high regard for your person, sir," came instead, the Magistrate's obliging reply, "I can no longer, in good conscience detain you any further.  I have erred in keeping you from your duty and I wish to assure you that I have already taken measures to ensure your safe, comfortable and speedy return."

With a wave of a hand dismissing Fradel’s expression of gratitude, Yakove, declared in most sincere words he could master, that it was his privilege to be of some small service to the distinguished Fradel Rurik Korvald.  The honeyed words on his tongue simply rolled on; while stressing that he was not deserving of any thanks, still the undertone of his argot hinted at his wish to be repaid in full, suggesting it be with an idiom (axiom) or two if not a poem.  But with a grace that far surpassed his host's, Fradel ignored their implicit meaning.

                                                                                    ~

 

(END OF SECTION 13)

                                                                                        ~