LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 2

 Zunrogo having successfully fulfilled his orders (delivering Fradel Rurik Korvald in safety to Channing), the group promptly next (without further due) reached the posh (grand) private residence of the Minister of Ceremony, Zaur Stugr.  From this point onward Fradel Rurik Korvald’s (Nevetsecnuac's) safety and welfare would be the responsibility of this diligent bureaucrat (official). 

The extra measure of caution along the way may, or may not have been warranted, for few would be so bold, some would say suicidal, to make a move against the illustrious scholar in the very Capital where security had always been tighter than a drum. 

Arriving at dusk, Zunrogo’s company found the good minister eagerly awaiting their arrival, having already been informed of their passage through Zier gate.  Zunrogo Tugo was then constrained to account for the slight delay.

01- ZUNROGO TUGO- JP  15

Zunrogo being most eager to depart, stating that he had other most urgent business to attend to before the curfew fell, soon as he entrusted the good minister Fradel’s papers, he bid his pseudo fond farewells to the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) and the Minister Zaur Stugr, then both Zunrogo Tugo and Tizan mounting their steeds, left the official's residence. 

After polite felicitations and other formalities quickly dispensed with, Minister of Ceremony, Zaur Stugr then cordially (affably) escorted (ushered, accompanied) Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) to his luxurious private quarters without further due.  The Illustrious Fradel’s posh residence (accommodation) had been meticulously furnished with all the anticipated amenities, rare antiques, and exquisite fine art objects that a scholar with discriminating taste might require, to be most comfortably settled in. Ten servants, comprising (encompassing) both genders, were appointed to see to his every need or whim.  Following a luxurious bath, toiletries, and a brief rest, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) was then escorted to a large dining hall where, during an exclusive (private) banquet, he was discerningly entertained, offered selective, most discriminating light refreshment, exotic range of delicacies (tidbits) and finally, the most elaborate cuisines.

 At the conclusion of the repast (feast), since Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) did not looked wearied, and particularly did not express any desire to retire; at the suggestion of Zaur Stugr, both men then proceeded through the locked gate, to enter Zaur’s much coveted but rarely shared, private garden, their steps advancing informally (calmly) then, towards the legendary Whispering Willows Pavilion.

Zaur Stugr despite being rather young for a minister, as he was in his late twenties, nevertheless carried a, dignified, resilient (robust, buoyant, spirited) though seemingly understated, yet formidable air of authority; this very much intrigued Nevetsecnuac, impelling (driving, propelling) him, hence, to learn more of this enigmatic minister. Unfortunately for Nevetsecuac, the minster guarded his secrets too well, and since it was fated, both sides remained in the dark of each’s true identity, till it was too late.

02-ZAUR STUGR   JP 27

 In that most tranquil and exquisite setting, as they informally strolled through the winding paths of the picturesque garden, they spoke sparingly, from time to time, stopping briefly, only to lend an ear to the distant, well-orchestrated, lugubrious melodies of nature.  At the exquisite Whispering Willows Pavilion, they then partook in some rare, specialty foreign brew (environment); subsequently, spirits mellowed, they then indulged in the most delightful, lighthearted, and seemingly unreserved conversation. Minister Zaur Stugr, though a most attentive host all during the night, had (actually) nonetheless remained guarded in his speech and manner, being always tentatively (cautiously) prudent, not to let their seemingly candid exchange trespass onto any dangerous or forbidden topics.

 As they drank well into the night, a slightly inebriated Zaur Stugr dropped his guard just a fraction.  Seizing this opportunity, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), with certain tact and decorum, discreetly broached the subjects that had been preying on his mind ever since his arrival in Channing. 

Nevetsecnuac knew that it was imperative this one major obstacle be handled satisfactorily before his goal; fortunately, he had seen fit to procure from the real Fradel, the names of the Royal Couriers (RCRB) who had delivered him the Imperial summons.

 All Nevesecnuac needed now was to learn of the exact whereabouts of Canbir Nonng and Cais Hongar so that he could, though he detested the idea, obstruct or permanently impede (hinder) any chance of them exposing him as an impostor.

Through his prior discrete inquiries, Nevetsecnuac had learned from Zunrogo that the members of Royal Couriers of the Red Bandanna (Red Bandanna’s specific subdivision, limb, branch, also known as RCRB), such as Canbir and Cais, being the quickest and most efficient, were perpetually kept on the go.  Each of these RCRB after grueling (demanding) selection process, had been chosen for their superhuman endurance and their indomitable fighting and riding prowess (skills). Once dispatched, RCRB would ride like the wind on the fastest of horses and were authorized to, if need be, fight their way through any obstructions.  There had even been instances where, high ranking officials or aristocrats, who’d caused slight delay of a RCRB, having been promptly killed without consequence (penalty). Depending on the urgency of the task, these couriers could ride unceasingly (incessantly), eating and sleeping on horseback until they reached their destination. 

During his travels, at various points along the throughfare (artery, road, freeway) Nevetsecnuac had seen the Imperial stables set up to supply these RCRB messengers with fresh horses and supplies.  Inns and provision stores (shops) had, additionally, sprung up (like wild mushrooms, as it was highly lucrative business), around these way stations.

As it were, Nevetsecnuac's luck had held; and this piece of intelligence he’d learned from Minister Zaur Stugr, that the couriers in question had already been dispatched the day before Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) arrival in Capital, to relay a routine command to the Military Governor at the frontier province of Tizanakang, one of the two provinces bordering Korion.

03- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC)  IN CAPITAL

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), inwardly relieved, continued with their innocuous (safe, bland) exchange; until a little while later, he sought to resolve his other concern and again discretely, broached the subject of the latest assassination attempt on (reigning monarch) current Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek. Fradel, volunteering his reasons for it, briefly related part of his observations in the central square, his feelings of revulsion at the sight, and then followed it with his purposefully erroneous suppositions of the results this act portended. Apparently, there was no restriction on discussing the assassination attempt since Minister Zaur Stugr seemed most anxious to correct the esteemed Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) and, readily obliged by conveying all the pertinent officially available information on the subject.  However, he did not end it there,

"Please do not take offense, and I am supposing that your reclusive life has prevented you from being fully informed on the present state of Wenjenkun's foreign policy."

Minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr waited for an affirming nod before proceeding to impart the major point he wished to cover.

"This most recent assassination attempt has had far more reaching political implications than would seem on the outset."  He cleared his throat with a sip of wine then extrapolated further, bringing up the subject of the military threat from an expansive foreign aggressor, Emperor Deng Hedenko of the nation of Kontu.

04- DENG HEDENKO

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) was keenly interested, for he recollected the facts he’d been told, back at the mountain abode, about Lord Hedenko, who was now the Emperor of Kontu. This vilest and most feared Lord had also the very one that Teuquob had been promised to in marriage.  Unfortunately, Hedenko’s present status revealed the sad fate that befell her family. 

Nevetsecnuac listened, with rapt attention, to Minister Zaur Stugr’s seemingly unbiased (equitable), nevertheless enthusiastic, deferential account of Lord Deng Hedenko’s exploits.

"I admit to being rather intrigued with Hedenko's extraordinary military accomplishments from very early on.  I've followed his chartered course when, even at an early age and, despite the overwhelming odds against him from birth, how with his resilience, his extraordinary, cunning intellect and incredible martial prowess, he succeeded in doing the impossible. Then again, his ruthlessness has no equal, save for…. am. Anyhow, as testament to his shrewd military and political maneuvers, he’d consolidated, in that unbelievably brief period, all those unruly, hostile kingdoms bordering his nation, under just one rule.”

“But that is too long an account to go into it now, perhaps we may revisit the topic at another more opportune time when, I can impart to you in detail, the long chronicle of his incredible achievements, for they read like a textbook of legendary military strategies."  Zaur dismissed this line of thought with a wave of his hand then returned to the most current political events.

Minister Zaur Stugr instead, told Fradel how Hedenko, still coveting more territories, had sent his invincible armada across the treacherous channel, with great army numbering in the hundreds of thousands on board, under the command of Field Marshal Yatzin Surge. Having landed quite recently infract, on the shores of the continent, Field Marshal Yatzin had already annexed the inconsequential country of Duriok.  Their real objective was, of course, to annex the neighboring state, Korion.

 "Unofficial reports had already reached His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek, that this foreign aggressor (antagonist) had wreaked havoc all along its path to the Pokesh River." Minister Zaur Stugr smiled wryly. 

"This, however, has aroused little concern in our political arena.  As to the proposed non-aggression pact between Kontu and Wenjenkun," Zaur shook his head thoughtfully, "Well, Emperor Hedenko has more than once adopted the sure strategy of allying himself with more distant states while attacking the one close at hand.  Soon, however, his allies find themselves on Kontu's border.  You can imagine the initial reluctance of our Illustrious Sovereign, despite all assurances from Hedenko."

Zaur digressed, "You must understand that our country harbors no particular affection for that den of wolves, Korion.  You see, from the time our victorious armies subjugated that country there has never been any obvious, outward signs of resistance, outbreaks of rebellion, or even any inkling of trouble brewing from that quarter and they have kept up with their yearly tribute in a timely manner.  However, they are an aggressive race and after the…" Minister Zaur Stugr stopped abruptly, dropping his head to become lost in thought.

                                                                                ~

Nevetsecnuac surmised what was on his mind, for as part of his studies he had learnt from Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, of Wenjenkun’s long standing trouble with Korion and, the last battle, which resulted in the annexation of Korion. The old Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, who properly duped, sent Zakhertan, with unlimited command of the expeditionary forces, to eliminate this pesky border threat; this done, Zakhertan then had retaliated, evened some personal old scores (settle old vendettas).

Though the brutal campaign and the purge in aftermath, had transpired during Lord Asger’s youth, he’d come to know well enough from hearsay (word of mouth), all about Zakhertan’s shrewd and gory policies in that country.

 Then only a Field Marshall, Zakhertan Yozdek, (with a strong backing of his influential family, who were the real instigators for Korion’s annexation,) harbored grand ambitions which eventually came to fruition, ending the benevolent reign of Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.

The once mighty state of Korion, which was such a bone of contention with Zakhertan Yozdek, had always been a cantankerous, troublesome territory despite its small size, as it had always been inhabited by several, warring, fierce, hostile, nomadic tribes.

But even before this, Zakhertan and his supporters had first set their sights on this mountainous region for three good reasons: one being the rich mineral resources, some already being mined, others yet to be developed; the second, the coveted stock of the finest breed of war horses known to men and third, because their weapon makers turned out supreme swords whose superb strength and cutting edge were unrivaled anywhere in the world.

 This race of people had only one known weakness to be exploited, their superstitions, which dictated nearly every aspect of their lives.  Still, despite this flaw, this proud nation had never been totally subjugated despite many large and costly campaigns mounted either by Wenjenkun or by the other neighboring states.

As for the personal grudge Zakhertan Yozdek bore for this country, well, it had festered for (nearly a decade) a very long time, before Zakhertan finally got his opportunity to act on it.

 

It had all started (happened) when Zakhertan was a young man, a minor officer attached to the staff of the incompetent General Ziek Kizer and when the General’s forces suffered a crushing, humiliating defeat at the battle of Lekoza.  Zakhertan Yozdek was taken prisoner with a handful of others whose lives were spared and enslaved thereon, doing hard labor in one of Korion mines for more than a year, until he had engineered his brilliant escape. Zakhertan never spoke of the humiliation and what type of degradation he’d been subjected to, but from that time forth, he had sworn to crush this proud nation and visit upon it the indignities he, himself, had suffered at their hands.

 His chance had finally come when, after gaining promotion to Field Marshall, the Sovereign Anguan Binchan of Korion had, through the efforts of (clandestinely provoked by) the Yozdek family, offended then Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.  Thus goaded, His Imperial Majesty had authorized the Field Marshall to head a force of seven hundred thousand troops into Korion to secure that border and same time, exact vengeance on the impudent Sovereign Anguan.

Engaging in a series of fierce battles with Korion's invincible army, Zakhertan Yozdek conducted a brilliant campaign that eventually gained him the advantage. 

Through his unconventional, but ingenious, ruses he had divided the Korion forces then broken through to follow the path of least resistance to the Capital City of Korion.

 After a siege of less than two months, forty-five days to be exact, the main body of Wenjenkun's army had entered the city.

Given free rein by their commander, his blood thirsty troops massacred the populous without mercy and razed many historic buildings and monuments.

                                                                                  ~

"Let us just say that they trouble me.” Zaur Stugr suddenly resumed where he had left off, breaking (ending) the long, prolonged silence.  "Fortunately, I do not stand alone in this, though you may call it just a gut feeling if you like, for I have no facts to substantiate my suspicions."

He looked straight at Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), "They're a proud nation, you know, never before subjugated by anyone despite their small size.  Their fierce loyalty to their Sovereign is commendable.  It sort of reminds me of the way…” Again, he stopped midway.

 "No matter," a wave of hand dismissed his next string of thoughts.

Zaur reached for the cup, "I hope this particular vintage from my private reserves is to your liking.  I'm certainly no connoisseur but I find the fragrance more pleasing to the senses than the commercial vintages.  It sort of overwhelms, perhaps even intoxicates one."

In truth, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) could not differentiate (distinguish) any variation between this one and the four others he had sampled on this night.  In his view they were all exceptional infusions, all smooth as honey and fragrant as orchids.  He nodded in appreciation, nonetheless.

Placing his cup down, Minister Zaur Stugr leaned back.

"A short while ago, emissaries from both Kontu and Korion paid their respects at the Imperial Court.  You may well imagine what Korion wanted."  Zaur Stugr shook his head.

 

 "Claiming now that they were a protectorate state, they argued that whatever threatened them also threatened Wenjenkun and that it would be in our best interests to provide them with the necessary armament and manpower for them to defend their borders against the foreign aggressor; then came the turning point.  Kontu's emissaries arrived bearing rare, exquisite gifts and their terms were rather reasonable; the non-aggression pact I told you of earlier.  Their assurances appeared to be quite sincere and many of the members of the Advisory Council were swayed to accept their terms.” Minister Zaur grimaced (made a face).

 

“Anyhow, with these Advisory Council members’ full backing, the Kontu delegation submitted to His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek a sealed document originating directly from Emperor Deng Hedenko himself, written, they say, by his own hand.

I have it, good authority that, within its content, Hedenko had also promised a long-term trade and affiliation and gave his personal assurance that there would be no further hostility (aggression) between the two Kingdoms.  Hedenko swore that Kontu's aim all along had been merely to gain a small foothold on the continent to develop the long neglected and mutually beneficial trade between Wenjenkun and them.”

Minister Zaur nodded absently.

“Furthermore, in return for their exercising control over Korion, they would maintain that country as an independent vassal state of Wenjenkun and would double the yearly tribute paid to Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek’s court. The shrewdest of the Advisory Council advanced their favorable disposition towards the offer, promoting Kontu's move as a way to save Wenjenkun the expense of maintaining an occupying force in a troublesome region (area) as well as reap more benefit from that expendable nation."

Minister Zaur Stugr again nodded, this time more animatedly, as clearly, he was enjoying Fradel’s rapt (engrossed, gripped) attention. 

"All the while, it now appears, a vile conspiracy to completely incapacitate our state was in the works.  Yes, who could have expected it?  The emissaries were most cunningly convincing after all.  Well, after reviewing all that was at stake and weighing the anticipated gains and probability (prospect) of losses, it appeared that Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek was on the verge of inclining towards Kontu's proposal when, fortunately for Wenjenkun, a highly regarded seer and diviner, Dwengzur, made a timely intervention and warned our Sovereign to stay the negotiations.  It is my understanding that the seer Dwengzur had also predicted the exact place and timing to the hour of the assassination attempt.”

 

06 -DWENGZUR

 

“Anyhow, it was a great surprise to those senior members of the Advisory Council, and of great interest to us all when it was found that the conspirators were none other than the emissaries from Kontu.  Oh, the corpse's condition was far beyond any positive recognition by the time Dwengzur had finished.  There were reports from the palace that night of the most fearful noises and smoke coming from His Highness' private bedroom.  Dwengzur is known to be able to command great power, and I would hate to be the foe he turns against."

Minister Zaur Stugr waved his hand to forestall Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) questioning glance, "No, there were no eyewitnesses save, perhaps, for His Highness himself.  As I understand it, the bodyguards stationed outside were locked out at the crucial moments and were unable to afford any assistance.  Whether this was by accident or by design, it can only be illuminated by Dwengzur himself.

“Unfortunately, he mysteriously vanished immediately after the combat, and no one has seen or heard from him since.  Indeed, it was most strange.  The guards outside the Imperial Staterooms saw him turn the corner of the hall as he walked away, but the guards at the next corridor never saw him come round that corner at all.  Pouf, he vanished into thin air!" Minister Zaur Stugr smiled as he drew a dust-devil in the air beside his ear.

"Now the rumor is circulating that Dwengzur was a Heavenly Sage sent to assist Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek. His Highness may allow the unthinking populace to, from time to time, indulge in such superstitions, but we are men, not fools. Now I don't need to tell you how much irritation Dwengzur's disappearance has caused.  I'm afraid I can't go into how the assassin penetrated the Imperial chambers.  If it was known the answer would probably be kept secure anyway, but the truth of the matter is that only Dwengzur knows for sure.  Already many have paid dearly for the lapse in security.” Minister Zaur paused at this point to take a sip of wine, to relieve his parched throat.

 

"After that decisive combat the actual corpse of the assassin was discovered to be in pretty much the same horrendous condition as you, yourself, saw it when you passed through the central square.  Though the body was disfigured beyond recognition, there was enough evidence on what was left of the clothing and jewelry to positively identify the corpse as that of one of the emissaries from Kontu.  Oddly enough, it was the most suave and persuasive one at that.  He'd had us all completely beguiled by his distinguished, regal bearing and his seeming sincerity.  Based on this proof the remainder of the conspirators were promptly arrested and interrogated at length.  Under extreme, but necessary torture their sinister plot was disclosed in its ingenious entirety and the confessions that were extracted by Egil Viggoaries himself were promptly brought to Court for His Highness' perusal.” Minister Zaur Stugr was highly pleased, observing Fradel Rurik Korvald’s spellbound (enthralled) demeanor; this encouraged him to further embellish facts.

 

"What fate befell them, you may ask? “He took in a long, extended breath and exhaled it slowly, (drawing out) prolonging the suspenseful air.

 “Well, considering that theirs was the greatest crime that could be committed against our state, His Highness was most lenient, though still swift, and effective, in his response.  Charged with spying and attempted regicide, they were slowly dismembered.  The torn pieces of proposed treaty jabbed in the mouth between the teeth of each decapitated heads and the sliced body parts were all then stuffed in bags along with some dog excrement and promptly returned to Emperor Deng Hedenko.  You might well say it is all thanks to the inscrutable Dwengzu that their villainous plan (goal), of removing the only real obstacle to their subjugating Wenjenkun, His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek, was timely intercepted (stopped). Now our two countries are in a state of war and Korion, however undeserving, has gotten the authorization for the armament and military manpower they had requested.  One can only hope that the Korianese use them in the manner intended and that we don't live to regret this decision."

"Even if I fail, I shall not fail." Once more Zonar's uncanny prediction (words) promptly intruded into Nevetsecnuac's (Fradel’s) thoughts; Nevetsecnuac was distracted from pursuing that thought to its conclusion however, by what Minister Zaur had said next.  His uncanny farsightedness, on the sly alarmed Nevetsecnuac; but to his relief, Minister Zaur Stugr summarily abandoned the hypothesis.

  

(END OF SECTION 2) 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 10

                                                              

When the long, arduous day's ride finally brought Fradel and Svein (Nevetsecnuac) to a fork in the road, they veered to the left. This path eventually brought them to an old, established Inn.  Fradel at this point graciously prevailed upon Svein to stay the night there as his guest, to allow him a chance, as he put it, to reciprocate in small measure for the kindness he had received.  Most anxious to continue on his way, Nevetsecnuac was of a mind to refuse but Fradel's elegant, charming, polished manner of speech and his sincerity intrigued him and so he acquiesced.

During the course of supper in a private enclave of the dining hall, mollified by warm food and drink, they entered into a most delightful and enlightening discourse.  Moreover Fradel, for the first time in a long while, reveled in the fervent exchange of a superior intellect that shared his viewpoint of life in general.

 As the evening progressed, Nevetsecnuac listened with rapt enthusiasm and enjoyment to the pearls of wisdom which issued forth in an endless string from Fradel's mouth as the scholar entered a more relaxed and inebriated frame of mind.  Once in his elated mood Fradel had even composed, on the spur of the moment, a poem to commemorate their meeting and this budding friendship.  Nevetsecnuac listened with delight, finding something new to praise with every quatrain.

When it was his turn to respond in kind, Svein (Nevetsecnuac) quickly composed a short, brilliant piece that was so greatly appreciated by Fradel that he drew out his writing implements and copied it to a piece of silk so he could carry it with him next to his heart.  By then both were feeling euphoric from the wine.

Feeling the need for some fresh air, Nevetsecnuac was about to go outside for a stroll and enjoy the full moonlight when his keen senses suddenly alerted him to an eavesdropper behind the partition.  Edging nearer he discreetly brought this to Fradel's attention.  The two exchanged knowing glances.

 Svein (Nevetsecnuac) tensed, about to spring into action and teach this snoop (eavesdropper) a lesson he soon would not forget when Fradel gripped Svein's shoulder and decisively shook his head.

 Why should they bother?  After all, spies planted in sporadic locations were the norm.  With unspoken understanding they continued their conversation as before, soon driving the ignoramus behind the wall into a stupor.  With this objective gained, they quietly slipped outside for a bit of fresh air and a more liberal exchange.

Their feet crunched over the stubble of sod as they skirted a small, wooded area to find a pleasant, open spot wherein to converse more freely.  One topic led to another till Fradel’s unexpected sullen disclosure, of the reason for his journey to Court, was revealed.  Secretly elated at this fortuitous opportunity, Nevetsecnuac asked if he may, upon returning to their rooms, be permitted to view the Official Summons.

"But there is no need for you to wait; the moon’s luminosity makes it perfectly apt for reading it here."  At once Fradel Rurik Korvald produced a leather envelope from an inner pocket and, withdrawing a parchment scroll, presented it to Svein.

Svein in swift succession read the contents which went something like this: 

“PUT FORTH BY THE SPECIAL RECOMMENDATION OF HIS EXCELLENCE LAMONT GUDAREN, PRIME MINISTER OF WENJENKUN, AND THE HONORABLE ZAUR SUI, VICE MINISTER OF THE OFFICE OF CEREMONY: THE ILLUSTIOUS SCHOLAR FRADEL RURIK KORVALD IS HEREBY SUMMONED TO APPEAR BEFORE THE ROYAL COURT IN AUDIENCE BEFORE HIS MOST GRACIOUS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, EMPEROR OF WENJENKUN, ZAKHERTAN YOZDEK.  ALL SUBJECTS OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO ALLOW FREE PASSAGE AND RENDER ALL REQUIRED ASSISTANCE TO THE BEARER IN HIS SUBMISSION TO THESE ORDERS.”

 Appended to the script was the date of his required appearance, various seals and the insignia of the Office of Ceremony.

Despite his cool outward demeanor, a raging fury welled up in Nevetsecnuac's chest. "Hmm.", was his outward, seemingly impassive response however, when in the end, he handed the scroll back to Fradel. 

Silence reigned as each pondered on the next move. Neither of them wanted to head back, quite content with the tranquil solace darkness provided.  Then with mutual intent their feet began to guide them towards the cluster of trees with only the sound of loud crunching underfoot.  Somewhere an owl hooted. The two halting, cast their gaze to that distant pitched spot, lost in profound thought. 

Multifaceted emotions again suddenly taking hold, Fradel chewed the corner of his lip in bitterness and indignation. "I've been forced out into the world out of my serene existence and lost three good servants on what is probably a momentary whim on Zakhertan Yozdek’s part.  It’s more likely that, by the time I reach the Capital, fickle political winds will render all my crowning literary work superfluous." Fradel had unintentionally grumbled his complaint out loud.  He smiled abashedly.  “Dokurek's right, from everything I’ve seen or heard; Sovereign Zakhertan's moods are as changeable as the wind, a misbegotten, accursed wind!” 

Fradel walked to the edge of the creek, squatted and, dipping his hand into the cool, refreshing water, let it run through his fingers before he touched his lips. Pondering on the recently implemented policies of leniency, touted as a new age of furthering of the Arts, Fradel now discounted it as a passing phase.  His new knowledge gave it a limited life span, a policy he should be wary of.  He took no comfort knowing that he was relatively safe from any danger or reprisals.

 No wonder his work had been so highly praised in the Capital, it was harmless and decidedly non-political.  He hung his head deeply perturbed and a bit ashamed.  Unwittingly he had been a collaborator of the ruthless usurper and murdering cronies. 

Oh, villainous times, villainous Zakhertan Yozdek!

 Suddenly it became clear to him, what, he must do. A yearning, no, an overwhelming urgency beckoned him to act on it now. But instead, he felt frustrated, stymied by the distance to the Capital that could not be traversed on mere will.

Patience!  He nodded, as at that moment an overwhelming loneliness flooded his heart, washing away his anger. 

Could he not at least unburden his indignant soul to this Svein Therran?  He discreetly eyed Svein.

Instinctively, from the very first moment Fradel had laid eyes on this hero rushing gallantly to his rescue, he'd felt overawed, and trusting of this young man.  Svein was quite unlike anyone he had ever come across.  Destiny had brought them together for a purpose, he was sure of that.

NEVETSECNUAC RUSHES TO RESCUE

This feeling, that they were of one heart and mind, had persisted despite Svein's reserve and guarded words.  Again, he half turned and looked, this time more closely at Svein, who with a lowered head appeared lost in thought.

What ails, you, friend? Fradel inwardly queried, as he rose to his feet and walked back.  He had resolved to confide in Svein come-what-may and learn at the same time of his companion's grave concerns.  He needed desperately to bear his soul to another soul, to purge this oppressive guilt and shame from his heart and perhaps even gain some measure of absolution; yet when he made the attempt, as if in defiance of his will, the words stuck in his throat. 

Have I the right to involve him?  Fradel hesitated. Gallant, the hero that Svein was, he would hasten to help him once more.  But what if he's implicated anyway, on account of this brief association with me?  Should I at least warn him of the probable danger that lies ahead?  Fradel looked away and frowned.

Back then while travelling on the road, Fradel's deep lines on his face, and his detached disposition with sporadic, silent musings had already betrayed his raging inner conflicts, to Svein (Nevetsecnuac).  He could rightly guess at what was at the root but only now, resolved himself to broaching the subject with Fradel. 

This mutual intent resulted in the subsequent moments with Fradel gradually and with increasing ease, unburdening himself of his concerns, his innermost, private thoughts all save that of the revised purpose of his trek to the Capital.  After the release of some pent-up anger, Fradel continued, wallowing in self-reproach, to disclose how his heart was laden with oppressive guilt after being blinded for so long to the ugly, painful truths.  While his privileged, carefree existence had allowed him to compose frivolous poems and essays in adoration of idealized beauty and nature, worthier literati had been persecuted ruthlessly and made to suffer the torments of the damned for their outspoken loyalty and fearless outcries for justice.

Clearly, he was suffering from survivor’s guilt and was seeking condemnation; but Svein appeared non-judgmental through it all, responding only with words of solace.  His reasoning and wise arguments eventually restored to Fradel the peace of mind and the absolution he'd so desperately craved.  What’s more, Svein's timely disclosure that he, too, had just emerged from seclusion and his candid confession that he was just as ignorant of the events of the last two decades, bonded the two in everlasting friendship. 

Fradel was elated to know that he was not caught alone in this web of ignorance, despair, guilt and soul sapping dilemma.  His brain at once crowded with a million urgent queries wanting to know more; however, understanding Svein’s reserve he restrained his curiosity and instead, related Dokurek's tragic story which started it all, to Svein.

FRADEL

Svein (Nevetsecnuac) listened in silence touched by the narrative.  Sharing the same indignation, inwardly and vehemently they cursed Zakhertan Yozdek and his evil regime, each resolving to avenge the suffering masses.  Echoing their thoughts, gusting winds just then arose, stirring dust and debris up into their faces while the moon took refuge behind the congregating billows of clouds.

The mounting chill of the antagonistic night eventually forced them to return to the inn for warmth and shelter.  They quietly entered their room, taking care to then to startle awake and next, aptly deceive the spy with their unending, monotonous(dull), trifling verbal exchange.   Eventually claiming fatigue, Svein and Fradel bedded in their respective places; they then patiently waited for the spy to leave his post and presumably, be on his way to relay his lackluster(dull) report to his superior. 

 

Long after the spy’s retreat, in the small hours, as sleep still averted Svein and Fradel, the two got out of bed and once more sat across the table; putting their heads together, in partial darkness, they then began conversing in earnest. It was then that Fradel Rurik Korvald related all the pertinent gossip and anecdotes he’d picked up along the way; as well as some of his atypical experiences after he left Dokurek's burial mound.  These later events in part paralleled those of the scholar's purges.

The roaring wind outside thrashed the branches wildly against the window shutters and created such a noisy pandemonium that they felt freer to delve into more dangerous (issues) topics. In this way, by and by Svein (Nevetsecnuac) came to know how all religious affiliations save the ones embraced by Zakhertan Yozdek, over the course of his reign, had been systematically rooted out (purged), their leaders banished and with the temple structures all raised to dust or ash, the barren lands (real state) were then acquisitioned by the new gentry (nobility).  

Meanwhile, number of cities had been wiped out (erased from the map) on Zakhertan's whim, complete villages burned or plowed into the dust, all, for building of military strategic strongholds, for personal gain or for simply to gratify a trifling private vendetta.  One such example, the Lexox City, once boasting the finest historical sights of the last dynasty, had its walls pulled down, the buildings demolished, and the stones used to fill its moats.  Its common citizens had then been sold into slavery, once prominent members (those that had defied Zakhertan during his ascension to definitive power) mercilessly slaughtered, dismembered or decapitated, in mass executions. 

“Adding insult to injury, countless lives were lost even in the surrounding regions on an ongoing suspicion of supposed intended uprisings, (though never validated,) or on a mere technicality,” Fradel fumed. “In order to build more military throttleholds, monopolies or to establish byways to supply provisions or to foster commerce.”

This grievous matter more than others had fueled Fradel seething rage and when he sought to gain solace by visiting Zaurr City that held such vital historical significance, a place known for its monumental beauty and tranquility, he'd learned to his still greater dismay, that it too had suffered a similar fate some five years earlier.  In this case a river had been diverted from its course, flooding the city to construct a reservoir to feed the fields of a Yozdek clan landholder.  The city inhabitants, long outspoken in their opposition to Zakhertan Yozdek, had not been warned of the coming flood and so had perished at their daily tasks.

Svein next learned that, in the name of supposed progress even the masses loyal to Zakhertan had suffered untold hardships. But not the aristocrats, those unconscionable ruffians Zakhertan favored, were left alone to indulge in their princely, morally corrupt lifestyles.  In the last decade a labor force of more than 900,000, consisting of those sentenced to penal service or awaiting punishment, were rounded up in order to build the mansions of Zakhertan and his ennobled relatives. Thousands more were routinely conscripted, torn away from their families and homes, their lands and businesses sold for a song; most never returned home for they died in the process of building the new defenses, the straighter highways and causeways needed to expedite the transportation of grain, armies and taxes between the Capital and the provinces or, to simply pave the way for lucrative commerce.

On the grandest scale, in Chusek and Phoseknez Provinces, topographies were permanently altered as hills were razed, valleys filled up, rivers diverted while areas deemed expendable were flooded.  Large segments of the population were systematically dislodged, relocated elsewhere as Zakhertan saw it fit.  Fradel had witnessed the results of this unnatural meddling in the landscape with his own eyes and had learned then how it had reportedly been done to foster the right conditions for some privileged noble's summer retreats. Yet the enforced censorship of the bureaucracy in books and schools, theaters and the decorative arts had carefully weeded out the truth and replaced it with outrageous, blatant fabrications masquerading as undisputed fact.  History was being re-written to favor this present regime and to condemn the previous one. 

"Deception raised to an art form," Fradel gnashed his teeth, then closing his eyes, reflected how, in the previous year in Bejno Province, just outside the Capital city of Channing, they’d appropriated (seized, confiscated) hallowed land, and then unconscionably exhumed age old graves, to build yet another strategic fort.  The few who had so much as raised an eyebrow at this sacrilege had been promptly silenced then disposed of in such a way as to serve as a deterrent to any such repetition.

"Oh, cursed Zakhertan, the worst villain!” Fradel had unwittingly cried out at this point, the brutality of it churning his stomach.  His fists clenched in seething hatred, he hissed through his clenched teeth, "At last the time has come for you to pay for your crimes!"  Then, becoming suddenly aware of his surroundings, donned a bashful smile.  "You must think me mad?"

"No.", Svein (Nevetsecnuac) answered thoughtfully.  His tone was quite explicit, and the word carried deeper implications.  Then, meeting Fradel's questioning gaze he answered him. "We carry the same purpose at heart."

“Did I hear you right?”  When he met Svein's steely eyes suddenly new hope sprang up in Fradel’s heart.

NEVETSECNUAC

 Fradel stared at Svein intently for a long while, utterly silent, a million questions crowding his mind and a thousand lined up on the tip of his tongue.  But, just as suddenly they faded to inconsequentiality as a strong, unexplained feeling supplanted them.  In a burst of elation he declared, then and there, that, since they were truly of one heart and mind, they must become sworn brothers.

"That is also my own heartfelt wish." Svein acquiesced as he reached across the table and gripped Fradel's right hand.  "I feel as though I've known you all my Life.  It's only right that we become brothers."

"Quite so, quite so.", Fradel returned the pressure of the handshake.  Then, a shadow of uncertainty and pain loomed suddenly in Fradel's eyes, plunging him into guilty silence for an awkward interval.

"What is it, Fradel?" Svein (Nevetsecnuac) asked, concerned.  "Pray tell me of your reserve."

"I fear I have not been entirely honest with you." Fradel, his voice quivering slightly, confessed with his head hanging low.  Then he raised his keen eyes to burrow them into Svein's, adding, "Before we could take the oath of brotherhood there can be no secrets between us.  I must bear my heart totally, unreservedly to you."  Fradel shifted in his seat to gain a proper balance.

 

(END OF SECTION 10)

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