LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 23

Briac curtailed the curses that were on his (breath) lips, lest he be exposed to the fool which he had been, and ran after her in hot pursuit. She was quite agile and in the darkness with sure footing she, all the same, managed to spread some distance between her and her ardent pursuer Briac.  Running down the hall in another direction, she pushed open the back door, quickly descended the set of stairs and after going through the dark tunnel, swiftly disappeared into the dark stables.

Hot on her trail, incensed Briac raced after this would be assailant and entered the stables that held many stalls with horses in it. Incensed, he was determined to extricate from her some answers, such as the identity of the real culprit behind it all.  

"Come back here, you are thieving harlot!"  Briac barked, scanning the dark perimeter.

Suddenly, however, five sinister-looking thugs armed with cudgels and axes emerged from their hiding places instead of her.  Too late, Briac realized his grave mistake.

01- RUFFIAN (GANGSTER)

"Ah, our distinguished guest has finally arrived." One of the ruffians (possibly the chief gangster) grinned venomously as he pulled the woman aside then signaled the rest to attack.

 Briac ducked, swerved, and jumped over the furious blows as he bellowed curses, threats and insults.

Frastos had just relieved himself around the corner of the stables, outside, when the entire hubbub (ruckus) reached his ears.

"Uh-oh!  The captain will have my hide," Frastos cursed as he quickly pulled up his pants.

With the chill threat of fear coursing (surging, running) down his spine, he then rushed towards the noise brandishing his sword.  Fortunately, the situation was not as grave as he had feared.

Though at first unarmed, Briac’d quickly gained a sword from one of the vanquished (beaten, bested) bandits and so armed, he had managed to keep them at bay.  Frastos’s appearance on the stage had further changed the odds and considerably alleviated (lessened, assuaged) Briac’s still dangerous predicament; hence, emboldened Briac now shifted from the defensive to the offensive, edging closer to the competent adversaries, to deliver some very effective strikes.

"Go on, there are only two of them.  Squash these darn cockroaches!" the burly leader urged the thugs on.

Frastos, however, was an accomplished fighter in his own right, and was armed as well.  The gang of five competent fighters as they were, soon found themselves in dire straits, completely out-matched, even though Frastos had only used the flat of his sword, and soon were scrambling to get away.

"Why aren't you pursuing them?" Briac turned on Frastos to bellow fiercely.

"Let’s go after them!  They're getting away!"

"What's the point?" Frastos stood on his ground and, laughing crudely, shrugged his shoulders.  "They're only some local hoodlums."

"Local hoodlums," Briac was nonplused.

"You've registered as Borkos Yenzic." Frastos glanced at him from the corner of his eye.  "I doubt if they have even heard of Fradel Rurik Korvald."

"How can you be so sure?" Briac insisted.

"Look!"  Frastos lost his patience.  "You were flaunting your wealth.  They thought you were a man of substance, and they marked you for an easy prey.  They had no intention of killing you.  They only wanted to rob you or kidnap you for the ransom."

"Only they underestimated my might." Briac finished the thought.

 "But that bitch tried to kill me!" he suddenly recalled the woman and looked about for her.  It was all too evident that, despite all, he still lusted after her.

02- FRASTOS  DEFEATS THE BANDTS- JP 18

"What a fool you are, Briac."  Frastos shook his head disdainfully, his face crinkling in momentary disgust before he turned and walked away.

Briac was rooted to the spot, his face darkening with anger as he stared at Frastos' diminishing form as it was swallowed up by the night. “Where does he get off, talking to me that way?” he fumed.

“Pity she turned out to be but a petty thief, I could have really enjoyed myself tonight.  She certainly was well-endowed.” But then some common-sense set in and he shook his head, inwardly chastising himself and letting out a loud sigh, “You are a total, complete dunderhead (dunce, numskull)!  And he's right, no denying it, you know he is”

 

Begrudgingly he trailed Frastos to the side door of the inn.

"Please let this be our secret." he implored Frastos back in the room.

"I'll compensate you well.  You know my family has the means and, next time, I'll let you have your way with the best beauty.  I'll make it worthwhile; you'll see.  Not a word of this to the captain or that scum, Tizan; All right?"

Frastos turned his back in disgust and grunted, "Go to sleep.  We've wasted a good part of this night's rest already."

Taking this as an affirmation, Briac thanked Frastos.  "You won't be sorry, you'll see."

Then he, too, climbed under the warm covers on the other side of the huge bed.

His adrenaline was still high after the exhilaration of the fight and try, as he might, sleep sadly averted him as many concerns persisted in haunting his thoughts.

Inhaling deeply, the lingering, sweet perfume she had left on the pillow which now taunted him with wild imaginings, he grunted and forcefully shut his eyelids.  Instead of sleep, however, he grew more dismayed at having missed the ecstasy that she had promised him.  He snuggled up to the pillows and quilt desperately seeking some solace; the remainder of the night however, he still turned and tossed, being kept awake, listening to Frastos' variable, sporadic snores.

“Nope… No use, I can’t sleep.”  Frustrated, Briac finally kicked off his covers in disdain and got up to lie, spread eagle on his back, on the cold floor, staring blankly up to the ceiling beams.

“Sure, the benefits are most enjoyable but I never, for the life of me, expected that the message I sent, would cause me to be targeted in place of Fradel Rurik Korvald.  I really set myself up this time.”  Screwing up his face, he picked himself up; going over to his side, he flopped face-down, back on the bed.

 “Oh, how can he sleep so soundly when I am in such a state? Lucky brute: doesn’t anything phase you?  Devils take you; I don't really know how much longer I can endure this suspense.  At every turn in the road my heart rushed into my mouth.”

Frastos not wishing to engage Briac, meanwhile, had pretended to be in deep slumber (forty winks) and so, disappointingly, still did not stir.

“What’s the good of all that gold if I don't live long enough to flaunt it?” Briac inhaled (heaved), with a deep sigh.

Suddenly however, fiery rage gripped his chest.   “This is all uncles’ fault, for cutting me off financially and, forcing me to these desperate means; all, over that silly little incident? Improper, my tunic!  I'm sure he's committed far worse crimes, only no one has ever been able to pin any of it on him.  But I proved them wrong, didn't I?  Ha!  For this last year, thanks to my affiliations, I’ve sustained a more luxurious lifestyle and more power than they could ever imagine.  But what about now; how can I escape this …. Present dire misfortune?”

Briac's face became taut, and he once more nervously rolled over on his side, fingers tapping on his hip.  Imagining all sorts of horrible fates, he sat up and, cupping his chin, deliberated.

“I must exercise utmost care and persist in keeping vigilant.  Tonight, I was lucky.  Had they been His Excellency's men,” he gave an involuntary shudder.

 “I wouldn't have had a prayer of a chance.  Running away is pure suicide.  Zunrogo or his lapdog Tizan would hunt me down within minutes and hack off my head for desertion.

“If only I can get to Jukurok in safety and make my contacts.  I may not know their faces, but the ruins of Guzor temple shouldn't be too hard to find.  Once I give the secret password, I can establish my identity and inform them of the change.”

“Now, how on earth can I lose Frastos for, long enough to establish contact?  The captain's ordered him to keep an eye on me every darned (blasted) moment, day, or night.  Now, if I can win him over.  Yes, that might work.  He could cover up for me then or come with me when the opportunity avails itself.  He does have a stubborn streak, though, and he's such a straight arrow.  Converting him to my way of thinking won't be easy.  I'll have to bribe him with something irresistible; but what?”  Finally, overcome by pure exhaustion, Briac drifted into fitful slumber.

                                                                                        ~

When the first rays of daylight struck his eyes, he, with a start, woke up.  Last night's concerns were still fresh in his mind, Briac’s eyes at once searched for Frastos but he was nowhere to be seen.  The smile on his face turned into a scowl of hatred.  He jumped up and began dressing. “Rats!  He's gone to squeal on me.  I'll fix him.  I’ll...”

Just then Frastos, fuming with rage, stormed into the room with curses on his lips.

"I suppose you rushed right over to deliver your exaggerated report of my slight indiscretions last night.” Briac, hands on his waist, angrily confronted Frastos.

“Tell me, what benefit, what rewards did you reap, to justify this despicable act of treachery?"

Frastos was in no mood to deal with Briac’s barmy gibberish (nonsense). He simply shook his head and tried to get past him.

“You couldn't wait, could you?" Briac barked, still blocking Frastos' path.

"What the hell are you raving about?"  Frastos shoved him aside, frowning fiercely as he went over to sink into the chair by the fire.  Still fuming inwardly, he cursed, "That villain!  …That vile, despicable cur!"

"Don't deny it; you've been to see the captain, haven't you?" Briac demanded.

"Yeah," Frastos glared back.  "This is entirely your fault!"  Leaning forward, he shook an accusing finger at Briac.  "If it weren't for that ..." seeing the look of incomprehension in Briac's face, he threw his head back and laughed scornfully.  "Why do I waste my breath?"  He shook his head and slumped back into the chair.  Through gritted teeth he ejected, "No, he was looking for just such an opening.  He's had it in for me ever since that Cheron incident when I could no longer stomach his brutality and spoke up against him to the captain.  That savage, arrogant beast!  Where does he get off talking to me that way?  I don't care who he is, that still doesn't give him the right to show such effrontery.  I don't have to put up with those kinds of insults from the likes of him… That ogre! “Suddenly Frastos sprang to his feet and, clenching his fists, began to angrily pace the floor.

03- FRASTOS  IS ANGRY- JP 02

 "Oh, I'd like to wring his neck!"

"My fault,” Briac, a little slow on the uptake, was thrown aback until he figured out the last sentences.  “Cheron incident…  Who’s the Ogre?  Tizan?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes Tizan; who else?" Frastos stopped his pacing to glare sharply at Briac.

 "That despicable, arrogant cad,” Stamping his foot on the floor he swore, "I'll get him!  I'll make him pay dearly for this if it’s the last thing I do.  He doesn't scare me none."

Briac was delighted to see the fury, the contempt Frastos now held for their common foe, Tizan.  “This makes the job of convincing him that much easier.  Yes, things are finally looking up, but what's this about the Cheron incident?  How was it, I was kept in the dark about their, particularly Tizan’s, involvement in that whole, messy affair?  And the missing funds?  It was, reportedly, a considerable sum.  Still, why burden Frastos with all questions about that now?  I'll worm-it- out-of-him eventually once I have his confidence; far better to concentrate on the matters at hand.”  Briac quietly counseled himself. 

Going over, he placed a sympathetic hand on Frastos' shoulder.  "I feel the same way you do, brother, but hey, calm down.  Remember, haste makes waste."

Frastos shrugged off the sympathy with disdain, "Don't humor me.  I'm in no mood for your nonsensical advice."  Glowering threateningly, he went back to sink once more into the chair.

"Who's humoring you?"  Undeterred, Briac sat in the chair opposite Frastos.  Though he was six years older than Frastos, their relationship had been on an equal footing from the start.  "No, I'm dead serious," he reasserted.

"As a friend, I must deter you from doing anything rash; that is, not just yet.  I know how much that cur Tizan can get under your skin until your blood begins to boil with rage and contempt but don't lose your head.  You know how shrewd, cunning, and ruthless he can be.  Besides, he's an able fighter.  Individually, he'd waste either of us in a flash.  However, if we bid our time and pool our resources to make a concerted effort and reasonable plan, we may just win the day.  What do you say to that?"

Frastos’s head down, he looked lost in thought.

Briac grinned in satisfaction. “Good, at least you're considering it.  Now, will you tell me what happened?"

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” Frastos raised his head to study Briac for a moment.  “You'd like to know all the sordid details of this humiliation so you can later on, for your own sadistic gain, turn it on me.”  Grinding his teeth, he instead continued to mumble insults against Tizan.  But then his face contorted into a snarling grin as he admitted to himself that cooperation might be exactly what was needed to bring about Tizan's downfall or better still, his demise. As things had progressed thus far, nothing less (then his ignominious assassination) would assuage his anger.

 "You were right about him, brother," he finally spoke.

"Yes, you've been right all along only I've been too blind to see it."  His amiable tone contrasted sharply with his hostile expression.

"I'm sorry I've not been more supportive of you in the past.  This is a terrible thing he did to you.  The scholar Fradel is already in perfect disguise, there was no reasons for this subterfuge, no need for you to impersonate Fradel and by doing so, plunk your life in peril." He added in all sincerity to purposefully deflect Briac's persistent questions.  In his mind he pondered his next course of action.

"Yes.  After all these years of loyal service, it seems that my life amounted to so very little for the captain that he, without a qualm, sanctioned Tizan's vile plan.  There's no doubt the wicked scheme was Tizan's idea. “Briac swallowed hard and looked away.

“The vermin Tzan concocted this preposterous measure to humiliate us, to pay me back for..."  Briac suddenly stopped and askance (sideways) looked at Frastos, before he prodded him again, attempting to get to the root of the problem. "But, brother, why do you evade my questions?  Don't you trust me enough to tell me what they did to spin you into such a fitful state?  Why am I to be blamed?  I will take real offense (slight) if you don't stop being so cryptic."

"I mean no affront (insult, slur), it’s just", Frastos drew a breath, his anger in part subsided.

 "Well, all right, I'll tell you this much.  You'll find out soon enough yourself when you go to see the captain.  It’s best that you go in, somewhat prepared, armed with plausible explanation for your defense.

"I was summoned first thing this morning.  You had such a rough time of it, last night; I took care not to wake you when I rushed to comply."

"That's very considerate of you, brother." Briac interrupted gratefully.

"Well, anyway, there was Tizan at the Captain's side.  I'd swear the devil never sleeps.”

04--TZAN JP

“I could see that the captain considered the whole matter too trivial to bother about, but it was Tizan, all right, who had instigated this trouble.  He magnified it to serve his own ill purposes.  Then I was subjected to the inquisition at length, about the events of last night."  Frastos paused to watch Briac's pantomime of outrage then, narrowing his eyes, continued, "When I attempted to cover up for you, since I didn't want to give the Lieutenant any satisfaction, Tizan accused me of conspiracy, asking all sorts of questions: “Why had we rendezvoused with the locals?”, ”What was the disagreement that resulted in the fight?”, “What part did the woman play in all of this?” 

“Anyhow, he went on and on.  He even had the audacity to accuse us of having secret, intimate relations together.  I cannot say more, other than it was a vile and bestial thought."

                                                                        ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 23)

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 1

 Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac), relentlessly pursuing Mouro Kerr, ascended several flights of stairs that led upwards to the open air.  As he took the next sharp turn, however, he found himself face to face with Zonar Kuntzu, grasping in his left hand, suspended by the hair, the ghastly severed head of Mouro, dripping its blood onto the corpse at his feet.

"I abhor debauched officials, but, even more, I despise devious cowards." Zonar grunted, glowering at Mouro's head before he hurled it into the distance with disdain.

His fiery eyes next riveted on Fradel.  "Our meeting was not ordained for this night," he spoke sternly then, turning his back on Fradel, walked away.

01- ZONAR KUNTZU

 At that instant, however, Fradel leaped into the air and flipped over Zonar's head to land right before him and block his way.

 Zonar, taken aback slightly, knit his brows, "Are you courting death, sir?" He should actually had called him nephew… but not yet!  Zonar ruminated (brooded, pouted).

Fradel, bowing in respect, begged the warrior's indulgence and asked for Zonar's full name so that he may offer his proper thanks to his benefactor who had, not once but twice, rendered him a valuable service.

Zonar grimaced wryly, "You are too polite sir.  Thanks, are neither warranted nor necessary, since I am only reciprocating a kind turn rendered to me once."

He was about to walk away again when Fradel more persistently barred his way, requesting an introduction and a proper surname.

Checking his annoyance, Zonar glowed.  "And you, sir, are you in turn willing to oblige me by disclosing your true (legitimate) identity?" he asked with icy cynicism.

Taken aback slightly, Nevetsecnuac burrowed his questioning eyes on Zonar.  He hesitated, not wishing to insult (affront) this formidable warrior's intelligence by insisting that he was, indeed, the scholarly poet Fradel Rurik Korvald, yet still consumed with a desire to learn just how much Zonar knew or suspected.

02- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC)

"I thought not," Zonar interrupted the suspenseful air.  "To each his own, then,” as he turned his back once more, he added in a thundering voice, "but I thank you for your courtesy; denial at this point would only have incurred my ire.”

Nevetsecnuac had, just then, detected a familiar, slight accent in Zonar's dialect, one not unlike that of the assassin Duan. Quite intrigued, Nevetsecnuac remained ever more reluctant to let Zonar go; feet firmly planted on ground, he stubbornly blocked Zonar’s path as his mind pondered.

 “It has to be more than paranoia, more than a mere fluke that our paths have crossed with such frequency; but what importance does these coincidences entail?”

Nevetsecnuac had first encountered Zonar innocently enough at Aguda and Yagu's Inn but, since then, the strong sense (intuition) of being persistently stalked had both intrigued and troubled him. Possessing incredible prowess, Zonar had appeared and disappeared without a trace at will; in Yenis Luko's room at Kuno Temple, then again at the trial, where he disappeared dramatically in the midst of a crowd after issuing his threat to Micen Do, and his sudden appearance again here. This could not all be mere coincidences; therefore, what was it Zonar really after?  And since Nevetsecnuac could not ascertain the precise timing of Zonar's (appearance) materialization at this last locale, he abstained from theorizing why Zonar had not joined in the fray (combat) earlier on, either for or against him. Zonar’s poignant reference to their impending future meeting, on the other hand, merited probing. With Heng Erling’s treachery still fresh in mind, Nevetsecnuac (forgoing all the conjecture,) glued his gaze on Zonar but this time with a look of askance, wishing to engage him in friendly dialogue, regardless of the consequences.

“Are you done, probing?” Zonar was briefly amused.

"Your persistence, however, is getting rather tiresome." Zonar stared down at Nevetsecnuac. “Unfortunately, I am pressed for time and furthermore, I have no wish to engage in dialogue or fight (test) with you at this point in time. “ Zonar was about to snap his fingers and simply disappear, but then on second thought, he stayed long enough to add: “ I would think that your mind would be beset with more pressing concerns, such as, the whereabouts of Fradel Rurik Korvald's real identity papers. For without them, how could you gain entry to the Capital to ultimately fulfill your destiny?"

 Noting Nevetsecnuac's slight start at the emphasis on the word 'real' he threw his head back and laughed raucously…Then, before Nevetsecnuac could respond, "Oh, here."

 In a flash Zonar produced the envelope from an inner pocket and thrust it into Nevetsecnuac's hand.

03- ZONAR KUNTZU

 "No need to thank me for them, either." he shrugged.  "They were of no use to me, anyway."

Seeing that they were, indeed, the originals and not the forgeries Mouro had spoken of, Nevetsecnuac's heart filled with gratitude, and he looked up at once to thank Zonar and to question him about it.

 He was nowhere to be seen.  Quite mysteriously once more, Zonar had disappeared without a trace into thin air, with not even the slightest sound to alert Nevetsecnuac's keen senses.  Frowning, Nevetsecnuac strained his eyes and scanned the area.

"Don't fret, we'll be meeting again soon enough." the thunderous voice shook the skies, and the subsequent roaring laughter trailed off into the distance.

Nevetsecnuac's entreaties for him to halt, his dares to manifest himself fell on deaf ears so, eventually, he gave up trying and returned to the matters at hand.  Nevetsecnuac clad in more appropriate (armor) travelling attire, first secured Hecun's sword, this along with his scholar's vestments and identity papers in a bundle, Nevetsecnuac fastened them all onto the harness of Mouro's charger (strong cavalry horse). He gave a proper burial to Doctor Sullen and the others then vaulting the mare resumed his journey to the Capital.

                                                                               ~

In the ensuing days and nights, Nevetsecnuac could not shake the feeling of being monitored (watched) by an unseen entity; for intuitively, despite the seeming absence of form, he certainly sensed unearthly presence at every turn. It was like that of Zonar’s aura, a force, and yet not quite the same… This presence was, inured, (callous, desensitized) yet same time more deadly and, it definitely was in pursuit of something or someone, other than him. Nevetsecnuac was just a conduit (channel, means); the phantom hunter (tracker) had intangibly stalked him to attain real prey (target). Nevetsecnuac did not know it, but he had instinctively detected the unseen presence of an immortal, one called Dwengzur; who had been assigned to hunt down and destroy the renegade Immortal before he reached his full potential.

04- NEVETSECNUAC BEING MONITORED BY UNSEEN DWENGZUR

A scant scent of target had led Dwengzur to that spot where the previous battle had taken place. Nevetsecnuac, a sole survivor emerging from the scene, warranted attention and therefore had been pursued; but when the mark (trace, hint), whatever was attached to this mortal had proven false, then one day Nevetsecnuac’s keen sensation of been persistently monitored, had abruptly cessed (terminated, ended).

                                                                                   ~

Several days later, however, the sensation of being observed by an unknown force had again returned, though, this one was not hostile.  Nevertheless, Nevetsecnuac was bit peeved (annoyed, ticked off), that he’d been persistently for some unknown reason was being monitored and audaciously, subtly tested; and so, once after a long, tiring ride, when he halted for respite at the edge of a thick forest, near a flowing creak, he’d shouted his dare into the air:

“If you are fair, face me true, or, try another, more (effective) potent tactic.”

Subsequently, as he waited for a response, (with his senses on high alert,) he’d perfunctorily laid down his bedding under an ancient tree and, after starting a small campfire, his eyes pensively watched the steed graze on the lush grass, then quietly sat down to, for his sustenance, roast the already cleaned and gutted small game (rabbit)  he’d snared earlier on.  

His hunger satiated, after a bout (spell) of reflection, for disappointingly nothing untoward had happening (manifesting): “Oh well,” shrugging his shoulders, Nevetsecnuac briefly looked up at the cloudless sky overhead, which was blanketed with stars that winked incessantly, then donning a knowing, broad smile, he reclined and closed his eyes in sleep.

Suddenly, as if in answer to his earlier challenge, an arrow pierced the air and, finding its mark, got buried deep into the log where Nevetsecnuac had used as his pillow, its shaft barely grazing the tip of his nose.

"You are back; but surely you can do better!" Nevetsecnuac, unperturbed, chortled and, pulling out the arrow, with ease, tossed it aside.

"Don't provoke me, for I can ground your bones to dust with but a single blow."

A terrifying voice boomed (roared) out of the darkness.

"You're welcome to try." Nevetsecnuac masking his inner elation (excitement), with a wry grin goaded presumed Zonar further, eyes still (closed) shut tight.

In a bolder move yet, Nevetsecnuac simply shifted his body to get more comfortable and then yawning, plaintively mumbled.  "I’ve had a long day’s ride but pray do your worst for; as yet, you have shown me nothing of your vaunted might?"

The dare had barely left his lips when, with a deafening, crackling sound, the ancient tree sheltering Nevetsecnuac split right down the middle into two perfect halves. If not for a nimble jump to safety, Nevetsecnuac would have been pulverized under the enormous trunk as it came crashing (in big chunks) to the ground. His mare, as luck would have it, was tethered to another tree opposite and so had escaped the danger.

"How unreasonable, this tree had existed for thousands of years yet perished in a flash." Nevetsecnuac shook his head disapprovingly as he viewed the damage.  "Such is the vanity of man."

05- NEVETSECNUAC DISSAPPOINTED

"You dare mock me?"  Zonar's thundering voice, though he remained invisible still, quaked the ground under Nevetsecnuac's feet, suddenly splitting it wide open, with dislodged soil and rock subsequently plunging (plummeting) into a deep chasm (gorge).

Nevetsecnuac had escaped this catastrophe by nimbly, in the nick of time, jumping to one side of the precipice.  After which, still clinging onto the exposed roots at the edge, he’d hauled himself up to safety. He nonchalantly dusted off his clothes while inwardly marveling at the other's incredible powers.

Unperturbed, he shouted out defiantly, “You had best resign (quit) tonight, for I refuse to oblige your whims any longer.  Sleep is what awaits me now."  This said, he picked out another suitable ground under another ancient tree and reclined his head. Nothing much happened that evening and he slept soundly till dawn.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)                                                                                           ~

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 19

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

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

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

01- NEVETSECNUAC

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yagu spread his hands comically.

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

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

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

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

 Yagu smiled sheepishly while taking such liberties.

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

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

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

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

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

02- LERTY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"NO TEA?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

03- YAGU DORKA

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

04-FIONA (AGUDA'S YOUNG WIFE)

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

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

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

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

 

                                                                                     ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You may address me as 'Sir'."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                                                                         ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 19)