LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 22

The following morning, Fradel Rurik Korvald(Nevetsecnuac) and Yenis Luko  woke at dawn and, after their ablutions, ate some dry rations and then  readied the luggage.   Leading the horse by the bridles (reins) with Yenis mounted in the saddle, Fradel negotiated their way down the sodden path which was occasionally blocked by moss covered rocks or fallen tree limbs; once out of the periphery of the forest, Fradel still holding onto (halters) straps and on feet, guided the horse onto the highway in the direction of Wincox City. They had not gone far, however, before they were suddenly surrounded (ambushed) by some seventy-to eighty-mounted guards (constabularies) armed with lances (spears) who’d raced to encircle them.

One of the guards reaching out grabbed her arm and dismounted her; she was roughly thrown on to the ground and landed on her rear, next to Fradel (Nevetsecnuac). Fortunately, her physical state, being sturdier than it looked, had suffered no ill effects. Ignoring Fradel’s concerned queries, unexpectedly just then, Yenis, fell on her knees before the captain and pleaded for mercy but all her entreaties (implorations) went unneeded by the stone-faced Captain who, instead, refusing to listen to any reason, hurled threats and obscenities at both Fradel and Yenis, while his men loutishly bound and gagged Fradel and Yenis then tossed (threw) them both into an iron cage mounted on a wagon, to be carted into the city’s prison. 

Along the way, Yenis, shaking from head to toe like a leaf, all curled up in a ball in the corner of the cage, whimpered pitifully till at one point she simply passed out; however, the scornful guards simply sneered and refused to check in on her condition.  As it was, under the guise of a scholar, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), had been constrained from using his martial prowess to extricate them from this trouble; hence, he’d meekly surrendered to this grave injustice. 

Surely the matter would be clarified at Court, soon enough. Nevetsecnuac had mistakenly supposed (assumed).

 Upon reaching their destination, however, the prisoners were then hustled into a dark, damp and dreary dungeon where they were immobilized in a pillory and locked up for the night.

The following morning, Magistrate Turo of Birgergon County, having set aside the documents from his other, minor cases, was examining Fradel's papers in detail when he suddenly grew flushed in the face.

"This is no simple matter of trespassing.  One cannot just sentence him to death and have done with it."  With a grave visage he sprang to his feet and rushed off at once to his private chamber back where he summoned his subordinates and confidants to a conference.

"The emperor’s edict, which has stood for these last twenty years, allows no exception." He summed up after the briefing.  "Yet how could we prosecute an important personage such as Fradel Rurik Korvald, who clearly enjoys His Majesty's good graces, and still escape the consequences of disobeying the Imperial guarantee of safe passage contained in these documents?"

Turo cupped his head in his hands as the others exchanged worried glances, knowing that their fate was sealed along with that of the Magistrate.  The more outspoken of them ventured hastily thought-out suggestions which only served to infuriate the Magistrate.  Increasingly agitated, Turo drummed his fingers on the desk and demanded immediate, more satisfactory answers to his dilemma.

The bookish Assistant Chief Constable, who had kept a thoughtful silence up until then, picked up his courage, noisily cleared his throat to command the attention of the silent group then spoke, "There is, unfortunately, another serious concern, related to this one, which also needs to be addressed, Your Honor."

 He retrieved a piece of paper, a wanted poster, from the leather wrap and, unfolding it, presented it to the Magistrate.

 "I received this by special courier from the Prefect's Office just this last hour, and was on the point of having it duplicated and distributed.  Please, Your Honor, note carefully how the description of the female criminal on the left tallies perfectly with the features of Fradel Rurik Korvald's accomplice. “

“Furthermore, since she was in Fradel Rurik Korvald's company when she was apprehended, I would venture to guess that he is the hunted male criminal on the right."

 All heads one by one nodded in concurrence, as the wanted poster was passed around from hand to hand.

"It's definitely her, Your Honor. But the male's description is rather vague (sketchy). Nevertheless, we must agree with Lu's assumption that it could very well be the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald."

"Of course, the final word rests with you, Your Honor."

"Confound it!  More problems!" the Magistrate barked.

 He burrowed his piercing eyes into Lu, venting his fury on the bearer of this news,

"I suppose you would be the one to pile more rocks on my premature grave.  Bah!  I asked for an apt solution, not more complications."

As the Assistant Chief Constable withdrew to the back, muttering apologies for his untimely introduction of this news, a few of his colleagues hastened to appease Turo.

"Your Honor it may be good that we became aware of it now, so that we can take it into consideration."

"Yes, this is to our advantage, for later on it could have proven disastrous."

Subsequent (Pursuing) hours of intense deliberation, the conference finally produced a suitable resolution all could agree on: The Magistrate would not hold the court in Wincox City but would defer the matter in its entirety for proper disposition by Prefect Micen Do in his superior court in Denor City, the site of the alleged crime. 

Assenting, the relieved Magistrate wiped the perspiration from his brow (forehead) and swiftly drafted a detailed account of the trespassing crime, included a sworn deposition from his guards, and added an inflated account of the great expense incurred in apprehending these felons.

Magistrate Turo then ordered heavier racks to be fitted for the necks of both prisoners and, that they are dispatched that same day under heavy guard to the Prefecture in Denor to await their trial and the subsequent punishment.

 The captain (furnished with Fradel's sealed identity papers, sealed summons along with a special insert from the inept Magistrate, the transfer order and papers of indictment on the trespassing charge), along with one hundred armed guards, escorted the prisoners in heavy chains locked up inside a caged cart, out of the city.

As mentioned earlier, the trouble having transpired in such proximity to the capital province Holger, Nevetsecnuac, under the guise of scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald, had been constrained to remain within the bounds of scholar’s faculties (abilities) and therefore, had endured (tolerated) this grave injustice.  Nevertheless, his contingency plan had considered the possibility of this matter not being cleared up by the Prefex Micen Do either, in which case, he then planned to take direct action and make good his escape, preferably at an apt opportunity and place with minimal (disruptive) consequences.

 Unfortunately, he had grossly underestimated the seriousness of his nightmarish situation, the dept of corruption and the strong security measures that truncated any possibility of justice or effecting escape, not in Wincox City, nor on the way to the Prefectural Seat in Denor.

 

                                                                                 ~

05-- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC)) AND YENIS, IN CHAINS

Arriving at the Denor city gates by mid-morning, they (prisoners, Captain and the guards) were all instantly plunged into a large, hostile crowd of common citizens.  Obviously bribed and coached, the indignant crowd which waited for them tormented the prisoners all along the route to the Prefect's Office.  Yenis and Fradel were pelted with an assortment of ripe fruit, rotted eggs, slimy and foul-smelling human and animal excrement as well as being subjected to furious vilification, threats, curses and blows to the head and back from those who had brought along thick poles for the purpose.

The stern, hard faced Prefect, Micen Do, on being informed of the prisoners' arrival, immediately took up his seat and called his court into session.  With order finally restored, Micen Do had the bailiffs bring both prisoners forward.

 As was customary at the start of any trial the male accused, Fradel, was brought forward, stripped to the waist and given fifty heavy strokes with iron rods, on his back until the flesh broke.  Not satisfied with the damage thus inflicted on Fradel's sturdy form, Micen ground his teeth in contempt and ordered another twenty strokes, accusing the bailiffs of being too lenient (humane, merciful) in their beating of the prisoner.  To his chagrin, not a whimper or plea was attained from stubborn Fradel’s lips, robbing the Prefect and the gleaned (gathered, assembled) crowd the sought after perverse satisfaction.

Grumbling under his breath, Micen Do summarily looked over the indictment papers with a hard visage. He then picked up the documents bearing the formal complaint and the death warrant itself.  Briefly glancing at the report from Magistrate Turo, he brushed aside Fradel's identity papers with a huff, barely noting even Fradel's full name.

"The charge of trespassing is solid; we can therefore dispense with any hearing on that matter.  The sentence is death."  He moved to quiet the cheering from the crowd then looked up to formally charge both of the accused with the added crimes of murder, mutilation and robbery of the honorable Senson Luko.

 "I will withhold the sentence of death pending the outcome of this trial, so as to determine by the proceedings the severity of the criminals' torture and the means of their death."

The prisoners were not permitted to enter a plea or say a single word in their defense at this point in the proceedings.  Instead, the court clerk, as ordered, stepped forward and read out loud the highlights of the case against them, including the corroborating testimonies of the brothers of the deceased and the servants of the Luko household.

The picture painted was most incriminating.  Yenis was described as a wanton, shamefully promiscuous woman, guilty of immoral misconduct, carrying on (with untold no of men) secret rendezvous and illicit affairs, who on the night in question had smuggled her latest lover, Fradel, into her husband's private library in order to commit murder.

The summation was concocted from the Prefect's own conjecture and read out to the court.  "After this vile, gruesome deed was accomplished, both the accused pilfered (made off with) many of the valuables, to enable them a fresh start elsewhere.  Making good their escape, they successfully eluded the constables on their trail until, after hiding out in a site forbidden by Imperial decree, where no honest citizen would dare tread, they were apprehended (ensnared) by the good and proper forces of the law. Guilty as they are of such reprehensible (appalling) acts, they deserve no mercy from this court."

 The (jovial outcry) cheers of the spectators painted a sinister smile on the Prefect's ugly, scar-ridden face as he delayed restoring order to the courtroom.

06-PREFECT MICEN DO

There was only slim evidence, vague at best, from the only eyewitness, the old gatekeeper, concerning the identity of the lover.  Familiar with such goings on, he had failed to get a good look at the man in the dark as the two made their getaway.  He had just minded his own business and had not raised the alarm until the grisly discovery of the following morning which brought to light the full scope of their crime.  However, this lack of solid evidence did not deter Prefect, with the persistent finger of guilt pointed at Fradel; it was enough that he had been caught along with Yenis.

"Fradel Rurik Korvald is guilty as charged by his association with a known criminal alone, there being an absence of factual evidence in this matter."

Prefect Micen Do then rush through the verbal questioning of the witnesses, practically coaxing their testimony from them in order to achieve the desired effect. 

He was constrained to follow at least the appearance of proper judicial procedure even though he was completely blinded to any sense of justice in his eagerness to secure a guilty verdict for both the accused, Yenis and Fradel.

Why was he so prejudiced?  It was because he wished to set a precedent here.  For some time now, moral standards in Denor have been particularly lax.  Since many fine, upstanding gentlemen, including the Prefect himself, liked to idle away their time consorting or ogling the beautiful courtesans and other loose women, in thriving establishments of ill repute posing as respectable tea houses that had sprung up in a multitude all along the riverbanks.  The river Hain, whose course meandered along the immediate outskirts of the city, was often thronged with pleasure boats from which the singing, laughter and music drifted into the suburbs until all hours of the night, every night.

 In this liberal atmosphere it was left to these same promiscuous men to preach virtue to their wives and daughters and to keep them from straying and become the playthings of other men.  Such happenings would entail an ultimate loss of face for these pretentious family men.  Even Prefect Micen Do, whose wife was no great beauty and falling far short of the good looks Yenis bore despite her present disheveled condition, had vigorously guarded his wife's chastity (fidelity) from the time of their marriage ceremony with a particularly jealous obsession. As his second wife (first one was deceased) was much younger than him, Micen Do had kept her virtually imprisoned within the confines of their home, to prevent any probability of her straying. This criminal case (adultery and murder) had naturally struck at the insecure chord of his heart and aligned his sympathies from the start with the deceased cuckold, Senson Luko, who he feared could just as easily have been him.

With much of the preliminaries out of the way, it finally became Fradel's turn to be asked, merely as a formality, how he pleaded to the charge of murder, mutilation and robbery.  Instead of pleading guilty as he had been instructed to in jail, Fradel with dignified composure, defiantly looked Micen straight in the eye and boldly protested his innocence of all three charges.  On the advice of his senior assistant, the Prefect contained his burst of fury and overlooked Fradel's impertinence.  He ordered the keeper of the stores to produce the most incriminating evidence; the murder weapon itself, for the court and it was promptly set on the dais before the bench.

Picking up the knife, mottled with dried blood, Micen thundered, "Do you still persist in denying that this does not belong to you?  Do you deny that the inscription on the blade, an engraved 'F', stands for 'Fradel'?"  He thrust the blade towards Fradel at arm's length and stormed, "Confess your crime now, and your death will be swift.  Delay this court and you will suffer all the agonies of Hell."

Again, Fradel with unwavering resolve, stated his innocence.  With his stoic, heroic countenance he then, with eloquent speech, enumerated (pointed out) the blatant loopholes in these unfounded charges against him; and in doing so, broke into shambles all the evidence amassed against him.

This created a great stir in the court, propagating (sowing) serious dissension among the gleaned (assembled) onlookers, some of whom now wavered in their resolve about Fradel.  Some even loudly questioned the soundness of the authority's judgment and actions thus far, crying out that a great injustice had been done by Fradel Rurik Korvald, who was obviously innocent.

To root out this dangerous, disturbing development, the concerned Prefect Micen Do angrily interceded.  Pointing an accusing finger at Fradel, he cursed him as the worst kind of renegade, a dangerous, venomous scorpion who used his cunning abilities to stir up the crowd.  He then had Fradel trussed up like an animal, using even more chains to prevent him moving a muscle, and had him gagged, to prevent "Fradel's disruptive, treasonous outbursts."  Fradel was also given a dozen more lashes to subdue him and to appease Micen's (fury) ire.

Already prejudged guilty, merely as a formality, Yenis was next asked, under the threat of torture, to confess her guilt, elaborate on the details of her crime and admit to the whereabouts of the stolen goods, which the muddleheaded Prefect only then had recollected to ask.

07- YENIS'S TESTIMONY

"But I'm innocent, Your Honor.  I was forcibly abducted."  Yenis, bemoaning her fate, dropped to her knees and in a quivering (trembling), tragic tone pleaded for mercy from the Court.  Despite the overwhelming evidence against her, grasping at straw in her effort to escape her inevitable, horrible end, she then mesmerized the court and kept the spectators in rapt attention, swaying the facts and circumstantial evidence all in her favor.  Vehemently claiming her innocence and stating that she had been grossly wronged by malicious slanders, she pointed an accusing finger at Fradel, declaring that she had never before that cursed day set eyes on him, that after Fradel's brutal murder of her beloved husband, this lecher had forcibly abducted her and sexually assaulted her.

Many groaned in the courtroom, already having committed to memory Fradel's brilliant defense.

"I've been made to suffer enough injustices, Your Honor." Her tearful protest came next. "But I care little that my name is unjustly smeared with filth …that I'll be cut down in the prime of my life.  All that I ask is that I be allowed to mourn properly, like a dutiful wife should, for my beloved husband severed (torn) so prematurely from me.  Afterwhich, you may do with me as you wish, Your Honor.  You may torture me, slice me to ribbons, remove my entrails and feed them to the dogs.  I do not care if I'm ever reborn.  I still will not cry injustice then.  My life here or in the hereafter is of little consequence to me."  She sobbed uncontrollably, the very picture of a virtuous wife.

She was by no means finished with her very convincing melodramatic performance.  Following several more minutes of hysterical crying, she with a heart wrenching moan raised her shackled hands and, looking up again lamented (bemoaned) her fate.  "Oh pity, pity me; I’ve done nothing to deserve such agony; oh, but Heaven sees all, Heaven is the only true judge… Merciful Gods, bear witness, to this great injustice inflicted on me today!"  She tore off clumps of her disheveled hair and struck her forehead to the floor until a slight trickle of blood oozed over her eyes.

 As many gasped, she spread her arms helplessly and again casting her gaze upwards, swore, "May the Almighty Gods strike me dead, right here and now, with a fiery bolt from Heaven, render me to cinders if I'm trying to deceive Your Honor."

All present mechanically turned their heads, searching with fearful eyes upwards.  But of course, no lightning appeared.

"Have pity on me, Your Honor; for how can poor, defenseless women like me prove my innocence?  I swear I've been framed by those who had hoped to gain from my death.

I swear that I was taken against my will that day by this rogue, who had butchered my dear husband and made me suffer such deplorable, unspeakable humiliations. “

“Oh, Heaven pity me; after all I've been through, I'm not deserving of this cruel treatment.  You’re Honor, look at me, look at me hard; can you not see that I’m no criminal!"

She continued to implore the Prefect in a hoarse, tragic tone, "Oh, you can't even begin to imagine what I've been made to endure.  Such shameful, vile torments I've suffered already by his hand!"

To substantiate her claim, she then tore open her sleeves to show the scratches and bruises on her arm, supposedly inflicted on her by her abductor, Fradel.

 She claimed that she had still worse ones all over her body.  "Would a lover do this to me?" she asked indignantly.

Many spectators, beguiled by her words and dramatic presentation, fixed Fradel with their burning, contemptuous glares while others, bug-eyed, simply gaped, sighed or shook their heads, wavering now in their assumption of her guilt.

Heated, animated discussions simultaneously erupted, first outside, then inside the courtroom between those that believed Yenis's innocence and saw her as a tragic victim and those that recalled Fradel's testimony or simply knew better.

Fradel, bursting with indignation and outrage, struggled violently against his shackles.  Some of the chains were stretched to the breaking point.  All who witnessed this gasped in fear and awe.  Some, who had been hardest on Fradel, now were tongue-tied, eyeing the exits as a pale-yellow streak ran down their backs.

Just then, on a signal from the Prefect, a serious blow to Fradel's head rendered him dizzy and almost unconscious.  He was vulnerable after all!  Those who, just moments before, were worried, grinned sheepishly at their own stupidity and cowardice; presently emboldened, they spat and cursed the prisoner.

Warm blood, meanwhile, oozed from the contusion, smearing half of Fradel's face.  He tasted the salty fluid (blood) on his lips, as he wavered in his stance, dancing stars and flashing lights appeared before his eyes.  He was surrounded by this crowd of ignorant nincompoops.  Easily swayed, they craved even more of his blood as the real culprit was winning their sympathies.

Even the stern visage of the Prefect was undergoing a significant change.  Secretly smitten by this beauty, he was mellowing.  Fortunately, a discreet whisper in his ear by his sound assistant Mouro, a former client of the Luko clan, quickly brought Micen to his senses.

"No use denying your guilt, vixen!" waving the documented proof in her face, he cursed Yenis.

 Fuming at having almost been made into a fool by her, he then shouted for her to be punished by five strokes to her legs. 

At once the heavy bamboo staffs (poles, sticks) mercilessly rained down on her frail, delicately shaped legs, each stroke intensified her ear-piercing shrieks and blood-curdling screams, evoking even more pity for her from the already beguiled crowd.

"Why punish her?"  They grumbled, biting their lips and shaking their heads.  "She is such a beauty, too."

"Silence in the court!"  The furious Prefect pounded his gavel on the bench to restore order.  When silence again reigned, Micen ordered the bailiffs to punish with blows the next one of the spectators who dared to utter a single sound of discontent.

Menacingly the bailiffs, with sinister smiles, held their bamboo staff high, ready to strike and searched the already cowering crowd for victims.

When Yenis was next questioned about the severed parts of her husband, Honorable Senson Luko, liver and heart and what became of them, she claimed ignorance of parts’ exact whereabouts and no amount of pressure applied could make her change her testimony.

Just then, when the Prefect again remembered the missing booty, he skipped over that line of questioning and asked instead of the whereabouts of it from her.

She fell on her knees and readily volunteered the answer; all the while sticking to her claim, that she had been taken to Kuno Temple by force where she had witnessed the culprit, Fradel, her abductor, burying it in the Large Hall.

 "With an aim to retrieve it later, the knave has cunningly disguised it as a burial mound for those cursed monks." she sneered.  "But, nevertheless, you'll find it under that pile of worthless bones.  He even threatened to bury me there, too, if I did not cooperate with his vile lust."  Cupping her face in her hands, she gave a convincing shudder, as if recalling his disgusting ogling of her.

Fradel could hardly contain his bursting rage, and a fierce storm grew in his heart.  What harm had he done her, to deserve such treachery?

Observing this, Micen grimaced in satisfaction, assuming this emotion attested to the truth of the facts but, in a second, his face again became clouded, for this presented him with a fresh set of problems, since the search for and retrieval of the goods would not be possible until after a special dispensation was secured from the Imperial Court.

On top of this, another worry also besets him.  Now that the burgled stash’s (loot's, plunder’s) whereabouts had been so carelessly disclosed to the entire court, he feared that, despite the penalty of death, some of the spectators may retrieve it before he could.  This meant even more effort and manpower to secure the temple area from such an unwanted intrusion.                                                                   

                                                    

Having no interest in the arts or literature, the name Fradel Rurik Korvald had meant absolutely nothing to Prefex Micen.  Fortunately, Ashrath, one of the court clerks, had chanced upon a volume of Fradel's poetry a couple of years prior as he was visiting a relative in the Capital, and he now suddenly recalled just who that name stood for, as well as the acclaimed poet's influence among the elite there.  He hastened forward to discretely whisper his warnings into the Prefect's ear, just before sentence was to be passed on the accused.

Suddenly an uproarious, boisterous laugh from the back rocked the entire courtroom, nearly shaking it to its foundation.  As if of one body, all heads turned to see a seated, fiery red-haired giant.

"Such insolence…  Who dares be so brazen and disorderly!  Bring forth the cheeky knave before me at once!" Micen bellowed.

The crowd (peeled) snapped apart in the middle to allow the rushing bailiffs to reach the culprit.  But the minute those in the lead came upon the stranger, still seated and glaring at them, they lost their nerves and froze perfectly still Like Mannequins allowing the rest that came after them to pile into them. 

The crowd outside the door craned their necks to see what was happening inside.

As the fierce stranger slowly rose to his feet and, with measured steps, walked weightily towards the Prefect, he looked even more formidable, and the intimidated bailiffs and the crowd once more voluntarily shrunk to the sides.

Unobstructed, the giant, (blazing) red-haired stranger walked straight to the bench, picked up the murderer's weapon and rammed the knife into the wood up to its hilt, barely missing Micen's knuckles.

Then, pointing a finger at the terrified Prefect, he thundered, "This trial is a travesty of justice, and you are not fit to be sitting on that seat."

 Panning the crowd with venomous eyes he bellowed, "All of you are beneath my contempt!" and he spat on the floor in disgust.

His intense gaze now turned back on the prefect, it burrowed deep into Micen's flesh, making the Prefect (break out) squirm in cold sweat.

With a wry grin the stranger growled, "Pay heed, for I will say this only once!  This man, known as Fradel Rurik Korvald, is innocent of any wrongdoing.  He is a gallant, principled young man whose only crime thus far is that he is too soft. Otherwise, he would not have found himself in this despicable mess (farcical situation).”

 He grimaced coldly, “If you had taken the trouble, you sorry excuse for a Prefect, to properly examine his papers you would have seen for yourself that he is a stranger to these parts.  I, myself, came across him at a remote inn in Zhingcho Province at the same time that your perjuring witnesses claimed that he was consorting with this vile, treacherous woman, whose lying tongue should be cut from her mouth."

 He had only to turn his burning gaze in her direction, his hand resting on the sword hilt at his waist, to cause Yenis to recognize him as the ghost in her room at Kuno Temple.  She shrieked and collapsed unconscious to the floor like a stone.

 "Bah!  The worm is not worth tainting my sword with her vile body fluids."

 With a snort of contempt, he again addressed Micen Do, "I will be leaving you now but, if in three days’ time Fradel Rurik Korvald is not released, you will answer for it to my sword's blade.  The metal thirsts for the heads of your kind."

09- IMMORTAL ZONAR KUNTZU

 With a cold sneer he turned his back to the Prefect, "I dare you to have your men obstruct my way!"

As he passed by Fradel, he stayed his footing (steps) just long enough to grimace at Fradel and bowed his head slightly. "I, Zonar Kuntzu, now return the favor."

He let out a boisterous, sinister laugh which grated on the nerves of the packed courtroom, then narrowed his eyes and, with a serious visage, advised Fradel, "You must harden your heart for what is to come and to finish the job I've started here."

As his hand saw the air, a sudden clap of thunder deafened everyone and immersed the courtroom in a thick mass of fiery smoke and light.  When it cleared, as fast as it had appeared, the stranger had disappeared into thin air.

All stood frozen, their tongues sticking out of gaping mouths, as they stared at the spot where, just seconds before, Zonar had stood.  It took some time before their breathing normalized, their heartbeat regulated, and they ceased trembling long enough to remember to retract their tongues.

Those with the stronger constitutions now jostled towards the door, stampeding over the bodies of the weaker ones who had fallen underfoot.  On their heels the rest followed, tottering (lurching) in streams to the outside.  Their knees knocking, their limbs trembling, they all repeated the persistent murmur etched on their lips, "Zonar!  Zonar!  We have seen the messenger of Death!"

The Prefect, having received the greatest scare of all (still tongue-tied,) at the urging of Mouro, finally regained his senses and power of speech. With his lackluster eyes, purple lips and pale, sickly face drenched in perspiration, he gave up any idea of restoring order to the court and, after dispatching the guards to search for the stranger, quickly adjourned the proceedings.  With the secretary carrying the bulk of the documents, he withdrew to his private quarters while the prisoners were hauled off to once more be pilloried in their dark cells.

(END OF SECTION 22)

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 20

01 A NEVETS ON HORSEBACK IN THE RAIN 

 After several days of laborious, continuous riding under the incessant rainfall, Nevetsecnuac, chiefly out of concern for his steed, once again sought some form of shelter to spend the night.  Fortunately, at that moment just before dusk, spotting the (orange tiles of) towers of an old, ruined temple jutting above the vast forest to their left, he steered the horse in that direction.

 After several hours of negotiating the difficult terrain and of snaking, ascending paths, they finally reached the long since abandoned structure.

Halting before the unlocked and partially destroyed, crooked, iron gates Nevetsecnuac dismounted and led the horse by the reins, through the opening, to inside. The dilapidated courtyard which greeted them hosted several pools, gifts of the relentless downpours, which dotted the area as if planned for a garden.  The entire yard, housing grotesque rocks, shattered pillars and broken tables and chairs carved out of stone, was completely overgrown with a thick, dark green layer of moss and climbers.  Brambles and thorn bushes choked the pathways.  Oddly enough, one clear, snaking path was beaten through the main thoroughfare, telling of a visit by some person or group in not-too-distant past.

After calling out and receiving no answer Nevetsecnuac cautiously pushed open a tattered, wooden portal which was filled with gaping holes.  It opened onto a large, dark hall where the air was so dense that it refused to enter the lungs.  Nevetsecnuac fetched the small candle from his pocket and lit it to illuminate his way. At the far end there was a ruined, ancient shrine.  The colored inscriptions had long since been gouged, burned, scraped and peeled off and charred, rounded shapes concealed the identities of whatever idols it had once hosted.  Several halls leading from the altar room had all deteriorated.  Broken bricks, stones and tiles littered the ground, some gathered in heaps.  Parts of the roofs of these empty chambers had collapsed, inviting the torrents of rain inside.  The wood floorboards had rotted, and parts had caved in, those still standing were carpeted in moss.  Grass grew in profusion in the kitchens, lecture halls, dining areas and in the scores of half-standing cubicles that, in their heyday, had hosted a great number of monks, novices and the droves of guests and devout followers.

 The few rooms with their roofs still intact were shrouded in a thick layer of cobwebs, dust and mildew.  This endless destruction of the walls, columns and stone altars and statues, undoubtedly inflicted by the hand of man, testified to a tragic, turbulent episode in history.

Nevetsecnuac's memory, triggered by the destruction around, quickly recalled Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon's narrative of the strife between the different religious orders attempting to gain supremacy after Zakhertan Yozdek’s usurpation of the throne and the subsequent strong resistance offered by some loyal monks to the new Emperor.

 What was the reason behind this carnage?  As if in answer, Nevetsecnuac’s eyes were at once drawn to a broken, badly marred tablet protruding from the rubble on the floor just a few feet away.  Nevetsecnuac picked it up, dusted it carefully and examined it.  Well versed in formal calligraphy, he attempted to make some sense of the deliberately obliterated remains of the script.  When he reached a line which ended "\\\NG \\TH V\R", he nodded his head in understanding as tears pricked his eyes.  Carrying the tablet bearing the honored name of his grandfather, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, along with a host of sad, leaden thoughts he pushed onwards into the major courtyard.

Most of the temple's once magnificent, adjoining (connecting) towers, were now crumbled ruins, walls tottering in the wind, totally unsafe to enter.  The main keep, bearing the evidence of a final battle, had decisively and mercilessly been razed right to the ground.

Amid the piles of stone and brick debris which filled these towers’ foundations, there lay shattered and cracked bronze bells, brass tripods, cauldrons and drums, broken blades, staffs (iron rods, bamboo poles), and spears, helmets, some still hosting their owner's skull, and a sea of bleached bones. 

Nevetsecnuac lingered at the sight, overcome with grief.  The tears coursing down his cheek were quickly washed away by the pounding rain as his unguided feet took him away from the major courtyard and into a dark, gloomy hall where an even more gruesome sight awaited him.

 There, at the center, a large heap of charred bones told of the tragic fate of the last survivors.  These loyal monks had fought and died with valor; yet in this length of time, no living being had dared, or cared to do the right thing by them.  Denied a proper burial, they had been barred from entering the nether regions and for decades their tortured souls had been imprisoned on earth, doomed to wander aimlessly. With this new visitor, Nevetsecnuac, however, their torment at long last would reach an end. 

Already having found a place of high, dry, shielded ground suitable for their final resting place, Nevetsecnuac took off his wet outer garments that weighed him down and put to good use the broken picks and shovels lying around the temple.  In the area he chose, protected from flood and erosion, he dug a deep, fair-sized grave and, selecting a stone tablet inscribed onto it a touching eulogy to commemorate the deed of these loyal monks.  Then, with utmost reverence, he collected all the charred remains and transported them through several trips, into the mass grave.  Covered over with clean earth and the headstone put into place, Nevetsecnuac paid them their last respects, intoning prayers, shedding tears and making proper sacrifices of food and wine (apportioning some provisions, as well, part of the plonk, vino, which Yagu had pressed on him at the time of his departure from the Inn) to their souls.

After this important task was completed, he first tended to the horse's needs then selected a dry room for himself in which he laid down his bedding and luggage.  As the pitch darkness blanketed the earth, flames of anguish still searing his heart, his depressed (state) mood driving away all appetite for food, he only downed several swigs (mouthfuls) of the coarse wine from the flask and feeling rather exhausted (spent, beat) he then reclined in slumber. Unfortunately, too many oppressive thoughts rushed at once to crowd his mind and deny him any respite.  Opening his eyes he distractedly watched the numerous fireflies that darted about the room, drawing luminous cursive shapes in mid-air; meanwhile, the sound of the rain drummed in his ears, till it gradually tapered off.  No sooner had the downpours stopped, however, mother nature set off a chorus of croaking frogs, droning mosquitoes and nocturnal chirping insects; all bustling with intense activity, they permanently disrupted any peace (silence) of the night.  Irritated, Nevetsecnuac turned his face to the wall and pulled the blanket over his head to dampen the ringing in his ears.

Suddenly, however, the din of noise, the croaking, had abruptly halted.  Nevetsecnuac sat bolt upright; he thought he'd heard a faint footstep trailing off into the distance.  Springing to his feet next, he darted outside to find no one there.  The frogs, about to start anew, hesitated, frightened by his presence.

Nevetsecnuac knew he would not sleep after all that, not till he resolved this mystery (satisfied with his curiosity) and, thinking that he’d perhaps overlooked some secret passageway during his previous inspection, he quickly lighted a candle and going outside, started anew his search, for be it a living prowler or a vengeful apparition (ghost), of the immediate grounds of the temple. 

On the far wall of one of the halls a small block of stone, previously hidden by a crumbled idol, had been brushed clean of dust. Drawing near, Nevetsecnuac gave it a brief scrutiny then applied pressure to the stone with his palm.  As he had suspected, the stone gave way and sank an inch deep into the wall and, with a faint groan, a secret underground passageway was revealed off to the side.  He traded the candle for a torch light and holding it up high, he descended the flight of dark, stone steps into a long, snaking underground tunnel.

Coming to a fork some way down, he examined the debris on the ground and determined the direction to take was to the left.  He advanced swiftly, but cautiously, he rounded corner after corner until he met up sharply with an obstructing wall.  Feeling around the partition, he stumbled quite by chance on the secret catch that parted the wall. 

After descending the precarious stone steps, further along the path, the tunnel had once, twice then again thrice divided into two segments; each time however, taking his cue from the disturbed debris and cobwebs, he veered either to the right or to the left, advancing cautiously through the dark, dingy tunnel network (labyrinths). 

Subsequently, two sets of footprints in the dust, one large, one small, piqued his curiosity.  As he proceeded, all manners of tunnel creatures, rats with coldly blazing eyes scurried off, frightened by the light, making a small commotion in the process.

Though he had covered a fair distance, he still had not encountered anything other than the resident pests (vermin, rats, mice a coiling snake etc.) within these catacombs. The long, narrow passageway at one point passed a set of stairs which led up to two opposite bolted doors. Singling out the door into which the small, wet footprints led, he traced them until they eventually disappeared behind a third door.  A faint light streamed out from underneath.  As he reached to lift the latch, he heard what it sounded like, a muffled child’s sobs.  Quietly, so as not to frighten the child, he pushed the door ajar and perused the inside before stepping through.  Except for the tall altar at the far end where the faint whimper emanated, the room was entirely empty.

 He advanced swiftly to investigate but, instead of the child novice he expected, there crouched a frail young woman with her head buried in her arms, sobbing pitifully. He was about to gently accost her when she became aware of his presence and, with a start, looked up at him.  Her tear-stained face, as lovely as a flower, drained completely of all its color.  Trembling, she fell on her knees and begged him to spare her.  He rushed to raise her to her feet.

"Please do not be frightened (alarmed).  I'm not going to hurt you.  I'm here to help." Nevetsecnuac reassured her then, bowing respectfully, introduced himself as Fradel Rurik Korvald.

In her crazed state she stared blankly at the scholar, not comprehending his words then again cupped her face in her hands and continued sobbing.  When the reality of the situation finally sank in, she turned and sized him up.  Yes, this is no robber, her face seemed to say.  He seems a decent sort, not an immoral being, I will be safe with him.

 Her racing heart was, furthermore, eased somewhat, when she looked into his kind, gentle eyes and listened to the placating, reassuring words that now began to make sense.  Sighing, she wiped her eyes and whimpered, "Please, sir, do help me.  You must get me out of here."  Receiving a sympathetic, affirmative response, she tried to fall onto her knees in gratitude but, made dizzy by her frail state, she faltered and collapsed instead into his strong, protective embrace.

She was revived and, with (Fradel’s) Nevetsecnuac's support, was led up to ground level where she was given both food and drink, her preference leaning towards the wine more so than the water.

Nevetsecnuac surmised that the woman he’d aided, a rather captivating beauty, was in her early twenties. Once her urgent needs for food and water had been fulfilled (satisfied), the normal color had then gradually returned to her pallid cheeks. Soon as she’d regained her strength, bowing, she thanked Fradel Rurik Korvald profusely and introduced herself as Yenis Luko.  Leaning her head back against the wall, her eyes half closed, she insisted on hence, telling Fradel of her past plight.

05 YENIS LUKO

Some three or four days prior, Yenis could not be exact, while her husband Senson Luko had been absent on business, four stout, armed bandits had, in the middle of the night when everyone was fast asleep, skillfully scaled the high walls surrounding her house, passed through the courtyard, gone through the second set of gates and penetrated the inner compounds into the privacy of the master's quarters, intent on robbing him in his absence.  The rogues, skilled in arms, had then made away with the valuables and her, as she had been unfortunate enough to have caught the eye of their chief.

Her servants and her husband’s two younger brothers, Latham, aged thirty two, and Hacket, aged twenty seven, responding to her screams for help, had been most ineffective at stopping the bandits.  Badly wounded and beaten, this ineffective lot had watched her being taken away bound and gagged.  The ensuing long, arduous ride had, by nightfall of the following day, delivered both her and her abductors to this forbidden, forsaken place.

"I dare not deceive you, sir.  Everything I say is the truth."  Yenis heaved a deep, sorrowful sigh as she wiped a tear from her eye.  Even in her despair, with her eyebrows knitted in a frown, Yenis looked enchanting, bewitching, a beauty.

 "The truth is, even if my husband had been there, he would have been, along with the rest of his family, powerless to stop these wretches."

 She sighed and continued in a murmur, "Though shrewd and cruel, he's old and cowardly, the same as them."

 Looking up at Fradel shyly, apologetically yet grateful too, she added in a stronger voice, "Though I've only known you, sir, for a short while, I feel I can unburden my very soul to you.  Yes, you have a most trusting disposition and have entirely won my confidence.  Truly, I feel I can trust you with my very life."

After a brief pause Yenis then told Fradel how her abductors had drunk heavily, joked and cursed roundly for the rest of the night, poking fun at her.  Finally, the bandit chief, seeing the night almost spent and still lusting after her, had hauled her over his shoulder and carried her to a private room where he meant to molest her.  After bolting the door from the inside, he had released her from her bonds and, smiling peevishly, had tried to woo her with sweet words and promises of marriage once they had reached his lair.  When this got him nowhere the brute tried to force his lustful intentions on her. Savagely smiling, he'd shamelessly groped after her and, hurled his enormous body onto the bed. At this point she gave a shudder and, hanging her head, remained lost in thought for a moment.  "I prepared to fight him with all my might." she said, looking up once again. 

"By good fortune my virtue is still intact." she smiled wryly.

 "No, perhaps it was not fortune; perhaps it was that Heaven took pity on me; for the rogue was so inebriated (intoxicated) that, when he made the attempt, coming at me like the charging mad bull, he stumbled and his head hitting hard the pole of the bed, simply passed out.  Seizing this chance to escape this fate worse than death I rushed to the door, unbolted it and burst outside like a madwoman.”

 “I don't know how many times I fell (stumbled) during my escape; still, each time I cupped my mouth to stifle the cries of pain.  I do not know in which direction I fled, I just ran and ran, beside myself with fear, trying to get as far away from them as I could.  Then at one point, as I leaned against a wall to catch my breath, through sheer luck I discovered the secret passage.  Though mortally afraid of darkness and its ghosts, I nevertheless descended the pitch-dark stairs and hid there at their base for quite some time until I'd gathered the added courage to feel my way down the tunnel."  Yenis cringed.

The following morning, unable to find her in the ruins and afraid of lingering too long and getting caught by their pursuers, the bandits had left.  For two or three days, in a state of shock, frightened by every shadow, every sound, she had waited for the authorities to come and rescue her.  Just when she had resigned herself to death by starvation her savior, Fradel Rurik Korvald, had come onto the scene.  Of course, she had been aware of his presence the moment he'd entered the temple, but she had not summoned the nerve to approach him.  Looking nothing at all like a constable, she feared he was another bandit or an unscrupulous man at the least, else why would he be at this temple.  She stayed out of sight, praying that he, too, would go away.

Desperation and hunger had finally driven her out in the middle of the night, candle in hand, hoping to steal some of his food.  Not knowing how to ride, she had not gone for the horse.  Halfway into her errand she had lost her nerve and, turning on her heels, ran away without confronting Fradel.

"Oh, those days before your arrival, sir, I had suffered so terribly."  She cringed, adding in a tragic tone, "I was practically driven into madness.  I was a lost soul, severed most cruelly from my loved ones, from my protective home by that knave.  My brothers-in-law, Latham and Hacket, pshaw!  For all their boasting and martial arts training, they sure proved useless, weaklings and cowards when it came to facing real adversity.”

“Had I, had someone like you, sir, to protect me none of this would have happened, though it is some consolation that my virtue is still intact.  Still, I will live forever more, in fear that it could happen all over again.  My peace of mind has also been stolen.  Can I ever feel safe again?" She bemoaned cupping her face.

Despite Fradel's (Nevetsecnuac’s) council against it, Yenis downed several more cups of wine, claiming the need to forget her tribulations.  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), conforming to the rules of etiquette, also consumed the same measure at her insistence.  Slightly inebriated, her mood turned coquettish.

"Oh, why must you sit so far away, my voice is going hoarse from shouting?"  Yenis rose to her feet and wove her way across the room towards him.

 "It seems that we were fated to meet Master Fradel."  A tint of red spread across her girlish cheeks as Yenis sat herself close by, “Just as I was fated to be saved by you from this terrible ordeal." Again, Yenis thanked him most profusely.

 In truth she was quite beautiful and almost matchless in grace and allure.  But Yenis’s charms had failed to win him over, for it paled in comparison to Nevetsecnuac’s true beloved Teuquob, who, as far as he was concerned, far surpassed any and all other women in feminine (attributes,) beauty and charm.

"Yes, I'm most fortunate to have come across a gentleman scholar as upstanding as yourself." she smiled bewitchingly.

"Few men could measure up to your moral integrity, Master Fradel.  You must definitely be an immortal, or an angel."  She chuckled as she nodded her head.

"Though I'm here, entirely at your mercy, you have not tried, not one bit, to take advantage of me.  I mean, what can I do if you decide to take certain liberties with me?" Her face flushed (crimson).

"I'm not as strong willed as I was but three days ago, and with all this drink in me..."

Yenis stifled her giggle.  There was more than a touch of provocation in her voice as she glanced at Nevetsecnuac from under her fluttering long-lashes, dropping a few more improper hints.

Yenis spoke alluringly and looked utterly bewitching, as she glanced at Fradel (Nevetsecnuac).  Another in his place, not possessing his integrity and moral rectitude, would have long ago (surrendered to man’s basic urges and) succumbed to her charms.

 As it was, Fradel's (Nevetsecnuac’s) head was lowered and, his thoughts having long since drifted back to his beloved wife, he heaved a deep sigh of longing (pining) for Teuquob.

 In his slightly inebriated state, he envisioned her guileless smile, and his heart ached, yearning to embrace her just once more.

Encouraged by his silence, Yenis continued to pretend, hardly noticing the strange changes (transpiring within her) in herself.  Perhaps it was her recent brush with death, perhaps it was the deprivation of the last few days, or perhaps it was a feeling borne out of gratitude, or was it the wine?  Whatever the cause, she gazed at this rather striking figure of Fradel, feeling at first strongly drawn to him then, suddenly, she was consumed with unrestricted desire.

How handsome his features are, how physically fit he is!  She looked at him, starry eyed.

Indeed, Fradel cut a striking figure of a man; his chivalry, his handsome looks, enhanced, despite his ordinary (riding) garments. He appeared to her most irresistible, liken to a demigod, and, unwittingly, ignited the long-forgotten flames of passion within her.  It now took all her willpower to resist the temptation to brazenly throw herself into his warm embrace.

He’s such an exceptional being, to have so readily, so solemnly agreed to do all he could for me; promising to restore me to the safety of my home and to the bosom of my loved ones; all that with no hint of any repayment.   I've never met (come across) anyone as selfless and as decent as this scholar, Fradel.  Is he for real?  Could this, after all, be only some delirium? 

No, she pinched herself (wanting confirmation); no, I'm not dreaming.  He's real, all too real!  Suddenly her expression clouded over, and a frown settled on her features. 

Then, what's wrong?  I know my beauty is irresistible to men, why hasn’t he tried to woo me to win my affection or, basically, seduce me? 

Her thoughts straying (drifting), she once more luxuriated in fanciful imaginings:

 Oh; we would make such a handsome couple, too.  I would be so happy with him.

 She affixed her questioning gaze on Fradel's lowered face. If only he…. But then, suddenly, a frown appeared on her face. Oh, I’m so terribly, terribly unlucky. Why couldn't it be him, instead of that wrinkled old brute they forced me to marry? 

 I know he has not taken offense, for he has not reproached me or taken his leave which can only mean one thing…. Hmm?...

Yes, of course, she just then smiled knowingly. He's bashful… That must be it.  Sure, he needs a little more encouragement, that's all. 

Her (intrinsic psyche) conscience, suddenly in conflict with her aspiration, reproached her: What’s come over me?  Why am I thinking this way? 

Moments later, the hot flames of passion anew (once more) seared her heart and, with her good sense and judgment clouded, she threw all shame and caution to the wind.  Fluttering her eyes bewitchingly, her face wreathed in smiles, she begged Fradel not to begrudge her more wine, vehemently disclaiming her intoxication.

Against his better judgment, Fradel complied, adding with mock severity that this must be the absolute last, that, after downing this, they must retire.

Her heartbeat wildly as she reached out her cup with both hands to receive the wine.  The meaning of Fradel's admonition had been changed substantially by her own imaginings.  Purposefully, she caressed his outstretched hand.

Fradel, his pure heart denying the obvious, refused to think unkindly (badly) of her.  Quickly swallowing the contents of his cup, he invited her to use his bedding for the night, observed her quick acceptance as she swiftly reclined under the blanket and assumed she must be truly fatigued after her ordeal and having consumed so much wine.  Biding her hasty goodnight, he quickly headed for the door.

Her rippling glances lingered on him, "Must you go?"

Feigning fright, she whimpered, "I don't feel safe here, all alone.  What if...?"

"You'll be safe." Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) reassured her.  "I'll only be in the next room.  There’s really nothing to fear.  Now please try to get some rest, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."

But she knitted her brows, pursing her lips, and slightly trembled as if teetering on the verge of tears and again pleaded meekly with him not to leave.  She declared that she looked to him only with the purest heart, as her Elder Brother, her savior, and what harm could there be in spending the night in the same room with her if he slept apart from her, fully clothed.

Fradel frowned, "It still would not be proper."  He shook his head and calmly urged her to get some rest then he, with deliberate determination, left the room.

                                                                                     ~

 

(END OF SECTION 20)