11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 15

The newly decoded message unfortunately, had also confirmed that, Lord Shouzi Yozdek had failed to acquire (obtain) and destroy the letter, referred to as the 'prize', since he was still interested in its whereabouts. This latest bit hampered developments and, made Qarzten’s job of persecuting key culprits even more arduous: for without the incriminating object as evidence Lord Shouzi Yozdek could not be indicted and, since the letter was no longer in Egil Viggoaries's grasp, the Dark Eunuch escaped denunciation (condemnation) and charge of extortion and worse, treason, for his withholding vital information essential to National Security. 

01-SHOUZI YOZDEK - JP  11

  

Of course, Qarzten Caimund had typically guessed months ago the contents of, Shouzi Yozdek’s bane, cursed extortion letter. He was mildly amused pondering on the advantages, which could still be reaped by routing (fueling) these heightened animosities into damaging, outright altercations. All the same, Qarzten knew that it would not be an easy task, as each adversary's offenses were equally grave and, with their fates so intertwined, each would rather shield the ardent foe (rival) than expose him.

Qarzten Caimund’s thoughts reverting to Nijel Pinng, Qarzten inwardly queried:  How on earth could she have attained these facts? Just what kind of organization was she a part of? Qarzten was peeved and same time amazed, at the extent of Nijel's resourcefulness. Best not to underestimate this young filly in future. Still, the gleaned information from her smitten stool pigeon was, surely erroneous. Qarzten had of course in mind, the very Eunuch in Egil Viggoaries's employ, that she had been seen cavorting under questionable circumstances; unfortunately, this lead had also gone cold, as eunuch Kanbi, had since then, mysteriously, without a trace disappeared.   

For months now, no news of him could be had anywhere in the entire Kingdom. By the time the covert search had been called off by Qarzten, it had become evident that infatuated 'Kanbi' had been a stooge (exploited)spy, planted to deceive Nijel quite unwittingly, by yet unidentified, quiet proficient faction, that zealously opposed the Dark Eunuch Egil Viggoaries.

If only they had attained any lead on that courier before he too unfortunately, had disappeared without a trace. This was quite unacceptable; their elite trackers, hence, should be reassigned to manage this job. Having made a mental note, Qarzten Caimund turned his attention back to the decoded version of the second message which read: Plan A executed successfully. Desired results with Hare achieved. Plan B will commence after elimination of unforeseen danger from Crane. This time the use of mammal and bird names, for Prince Herleif and the respected Royal Tutor Worren Youkup, deemed impertinent, put a bad taste to Qarzten’s mouth. His sharp mind had grasped at once that this farcical attempt at a clumsy assassination had all along far deeper connotations for Shouzi Yozdek than anyone else had imagined.

Qarzten still had the means to run interference against Lord Shouzi’s plan, but he could conceive of no urgent reason for a hasty attempt; meanwhile, it had become patently obvious that it was not just Worren Youkup’s reputation but his very existence (life) that was deemed expendable (a sure forfeit, a sacrifice), in this dastardly scheme.

02 QARZTEN CAMUND (9)D jp 2

The implicit threat from Lord Shouzi Yozdek bent on vengeance, with the help of his strong affiliates firmly planted within the Court and throughout Capital however, warranted a more serious concern: The balance of power Qarzten had worked so hard to maintain, the stable nucleus of Government could be permanently offset (disrupted) if the corrective addendums to initial (preliminary) measures were not implemented at once.  It would require certain sacrifices, certain unorthodox measures but it had to be done. Qarzten Caimund took small comfort in knowing that as long as it was within the bounds of lawful activity the unavoidable repercussions could be kept to a minimum.

Dipping his brush to the ink, Qarzten summarily drafted demarcated (fixed) coded orders to be transferred via his assistant to the special branch later. He turned and nodded to his assistant; his adrenaline still pumping, then stood up and quickly went outside.    

Qarzten subsequently, had hastened (rushed his steps) to take care of one or two urgent matters that needed his delicate touch before his usual mid-morning audience with the Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek. Qarzten had hoped to broach the subject yet again this day with his Highness, after he took a detour to his private quarters first, where he could attain few hours of repose, bathe and then don a change of clothing. Since he rarely slept, he found he could get by on only two hours sleep, before waking (refreshed) revitalized and eager to go. And he never, ever, remembered his dreams.

                                                                                                 ~

Egil Viggoaries had at first been irate at the deemed trivial assignment (for he’d already had his hands full with other more pressing concerns); however, as he, in his discerning mind promptly deduced the culprit and her co-conspirators, he had quickly recognized the hidden potential of this case and the multitude of benefits that could be reaped from it.  Moreover, Viggoaries had always detested the sanctimonious Royal Tutor Worren Youkup and he was of course elated to learn the true extent of Tutor’s involvement in this debasing scheme.

A sinister smile enveloped his lips as he imagined the subsequent degradation of the Royal Tutor, when his being so artfully manipulated by nefarious Lady Sejon, would be made public. When Lady Sejon expectedly fell ill with an unknown malady so shortly after the unpleasantness with Worren Youkup and required the ministrations of a Royal Physician, Egil Viggoaries seized (grabbed) this opportunity to discreetly arrange for the special recruit young Enqui Rimeng, who was yet to undergo a surgery that would make him a eunuch, to be the only one available to attend to her needs.  Once this part of the ploy was implemented, he had only to leave the key players alone long enough for the predictable developments to take root.  

   

                                                                                ~   

   

During Lady Sejon's examination, when asked to bring forth Physician Rimeng's bag, Nijel harboring a sly aim of her own, had laid open the bag with the two specific flasks (blue in color) adjacent to others in various colors, visible in plain sight for her Ladyship to notice.   

Oblivious to this subtle coaching, Lady Sejon predictably conceived the gambit (scheme) in her mind, with her customary self-congratulation.

As it were, this medicine (a drug, in the form of a white powder) within the specific, cobalt flask was typically administered to an ailing patient, each time in small doses, as means (remedy) to strengthen a weak constitution. Caution dictated however, that in larger quantity it would cause the heart to adversely, uncontrollably palpitate and most certainly burst a major artery (blood vessel). Taken orally, it was odorless and tasteless especially when mixed with sweets. More importantly, it was undetectable in post-mortem examination, unless suspicion warranted the specific tests to be conducted immediately or, within the first two hours of death. Who would suspect the cause of sudden demise of a seventy-year-old, stout, industrious Royal Tutor, to be anything other than a heart attack? This ripe opportunity, hence, was not to be missed; therefore, after discreetly conveying her wishes to Nijel, Sejon had feigned dizziness and collapsed quite convincingly into the handsome young physician's arms.

Despite the compulsory professional decorum, the hot-blooded young physician’s senses were inescapably (unavoidably) swayed by her innate, intoxicatingly sensual perfume; moreover, absolutely besotted by her coquettish smile, Enqui’s face flushed crimson and his heart pounded so wildly that he thought it would simply burst right out of his chest.

03- YOUNG PHYSICIAN ENQUI RIMENG (1)

While Enqui Rimeng fought hard against the raging hormones stirred up by this effective diversion, Nijel Pinng had quickly pilfered (swiped, stolen) one of the cobalt (caerulean) flasks from the bag and shifted the rest around to disguise the gap it left.

 Enqui with a timorous (bashful, nervous) demeanor, promptly concluded his examination, made a hasty diagnosis, and then reached for the bag to dispense the appropriate prescription. Nijel's efforts at concealment proved unnecessary as young physician Enqui Rimeng was too ruffled to notice that anything was amiss.

Afterwards, he abruptly snapped the bag shut and practically ran out of Lady Sejon's chamber lest (in fear that), he would commit serious breach of propriety.  

Later that evening Nijel had completed (finalized) rest of Sejon’s explicit instructions, returning at night to report her triumph, unaware that patient spies had observed and documented her every move.

                                                                                          ~  

                                                                            

Minister of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries, for usual outlet, had often sported in private tournaments with the deadliest convicted criminals destined for the gallows. This late afternoon’s barbarian outlaw, a giant of a man (foreign lawbreaker) being a noteworthy adversary, before his inevitable demise had succeeded in inflicting a deep gash, a serious wound, in Egil Viggoaries’s left forearm. And so, this evening as Egil Viggoaries was being tended by his personal physician, Surgeon Mosek, who was busy patching up the cut in the most feared Eunuch’s forearm without the aid of sedative as it was Viggoaries’s way, Viggoaries (showing no indication of stress,) in his mind’s eye was actually re-living the most thrilling aspects of the prior combat, the likes of which he had not encountered in quite a long while.

An indistinct shudder of pleasure passed through him, every so often, as he recalled the key highlights, the five or six near-death experiences he had had: latest memorable one, at the precipice of the icy falls, when death’s breath fell on him during the lethal combat. The adversary in this case was a particularly agile one for one his size and, his skill in wielding his deadly weapon had been truly magnificent.

04- BARBARIAN OUTLAW 2- JP

Those hands, like bearpaws, solid muscle and powerful, the way they had gripped his neck at one point and, how impressive it had been, the way that weather worn face had twisted with pure unadulterated, murderous rage. The articulated (expressed) utter contempt…those menacing, flame-darting, ice-blue eyes…! Ahh, it was utterly glorious!

Even now, it sent ripples of (tingling) shivers down the Dark Eunuch’s spine and he got goosebumps, simply thinking of it: a bit more pressure and he could have torn out his esophagus (pharynx, throat). A longing sigh escaped Dark Eunuch’s taut (stretched), trembling lips, as he akin experienced the glorious, intoxicating dread.

At brink of death, such times he truly savored his own otherwise dreary (boring) life, his else tedious (dull) mortality; how thrilling it was to be so near to being extinguished by the talons of the swooping (looming) Death!

He knew it was a perverse sense, but Viggoaries had such an insatiable and intoxicating hunger rising in him then, wanting to devour, to absorb his nemesis’ soul, crunching on his bones then sending him straight to Hell, to be tormented and enslaved for all eternity.

But then, Egil Viggoaries dispassionately shrugged and grimaced menacingly, alas, how quickly it had all ended. He was bit angry with himself, for expecting it to be any different; predictably, even in that other unrelated incident, when the odds had been so stacked against him, hadn’t he still won? Life was getting too monotonous; for he always triumphed.   

Of course, Egil Viggoaries could have attained indefinite pardon for the man, to be used and tortured repeatedly, after all his crime, gruesome as it had been, was nevertheless an act of self defense. However, the Dark Eunuch knew there would be others in this one’s wake, hopefully, more ferocious, and more deadly. That recently subjugated uncharted territory, populated by violent, proud race of Tunker, their whole existence revolving around warring and retribution, was just ripe for the picking; Egil Viggoaries could still have his ample supply to satisfy his innate craving for extreme barbarity and violent cruelty.

It was possible that one day, he might be pleasantly surprised. A searing pain from his arm shooting up to his brain just then, turned his attention back to the matters at hand. Egil Viggoaries looked down at the physician-surgeon who was bent on working furiously to complete the unpleasant task with beads of perspiration forming on his forehead.

 

05- EGIL VIGGORIES - THE DARK EUNUCH

"You are too damn slow!"  Egil snorted in disgust, knowing full well the meticulousness of the surgery being performed was most trying especially in these most unorthodox conditions. Ordinarily Surgeon Mosek would have had assistance and a plethora of equipment to fall back on.  

Mosek held (caught) his breath, as the blood in his veins turned to ice. At least the Dark Eunuch had not called him ‘incompetent.’    

 Mosek steeled himself, careful to maintain his abject, professional decorum, as he worked around the major arteries; he continued on with vigor and a certain diligence, pushing aside the terror that had gripped his heart, mindful of his predecessor's sudden, untimely cruel death under much the same circumstances, because, even after such a long, faithful service, he had been unlucky enough to have incurred Viggoaries's sudden displeasure (wrath).  A grunt, a complaining breath, and, in an instant his life too, would be forfeit just like Nevek; he was such a brilliant surgeon mentor too.

 

(END OF SECTION 15)

 

 

                                                                                     ~

 

 

11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC– EVIL PERSONIFIED – SECTION 1  

"Son of Wushing", Zonar called him. “Did he know? How did he know?”  Lenny never had the chance to ask the General. His closely guarded secret identity was known only to Sovereign Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan and now it seemed, to one other. He only hoped that it would go no further than General Zonar Kuntzu.  

01- LENNY SUKZOR (12)JP

  

Though Lenny Sukzor had returned to bed immediately after Zonar's abrupt departure, sleep till dawn had averted him; in an agitated state he had turned and tossed all night long, reminiscing, in his head considering missed (avenues) opportunities and possibilities and then, going over alternate plans.  

Lenny Sukzor recalled vividly the day which he had learned of his true parentage. His mother Ingrit, who had survived his father by just shy of two years, had confessed this to him at her deathbed, casting his heart, for a lengthy period, into utter turmoil. Lenny had undergone a drastic change then, discovering that all those years of his life had been a lie. Yes, all those closest to him had betrayed his trust, only they had called it "protecting" him. More likely it had served their purpose to keep him ignorant; but however, you termed it; Lenny Sukzor was the product of a grand indiscretion.  

At the time of Minister Keko Wushing’s trip to the capital Channing in Wenjenkun to elicit support for Korion, he had stayed as the houseguest of Minister Dongue Youlu and the two had found they had much in common. Minister Youlu, the most generous host, had given many feasts in Wushing's honor. After one such dinner, and more inebriated than usual, Wushing had chanced upon in the Fuchisia Pavilion, the Minister's beautiful fourth daughter named Ingrit. Unable to help himself, and helped along by the wine, powerless to resist her charm. He had fallen deeply in love and going against propriety, had seduced this innocent fairy maiden. At dawn, of course, he immediately regretted his indiscretion of the previous night and was of a mind to set things right by formally asking for her hand in marriage and taking her back, as his second wife, to his home in Korion. Unlike Wenjenkun, it was the norm in Korion at that time, for the well-off gentry to have more than one wife.

02- INGRIT YOULU- LATER BECAME INGRIT SUKZOR

 Unfortunately, events took a wrong turn and, before he could reveal his honorable intentions to Minister Dongue Youlu, he was whisked away to manage (oversee) other more pressing concerns. As affairs of the state took precedence over affairs of the heart, the matter had then been temporarily shelved.  

Wushing never learned of her pregnancy until after he had already departed for Korion; nevertheless, he vowed to send for her. But once again other things took precedence, like the complete rebuilding of the nation.  

Meanwhile, as she was from an old, well-established family, when her condition became known to her father, she had been forced into a hurried marriage with another, hence the surname of Sukzor.  

The ensuing turmoil of the following years, Zakhertan Yozdek’s rise to power and usurpation of the throne, his punitive campaign against Korion. It had been as though fate had conspired to keep Lenny Sukzor from ever knowing the truth. Thinking Keikon Sukzor was his natural father, he had cheered on relentlessly when Korion was subjugated and its populous nearly got extinguished. He had been brought up to believe that Wushing was a monstrous, most cunning political leader (statesperson) whose only purpose had been to oppose Wenjenkun; hence he should be despised and spat upon.  

03- WUSHING, THE MINISTER OF INTERIOR B

As it were, (believing in the state’s propaganda)  Lenny Sukzor had been the staunch supporter of Zakhertan Yozdek from the very start and had been one of the youngest statesmen that had devised the ingenious stratagems that had brought about the near destruction of Korion and, the subsequent expansion of Wenjenkun's territories, through the subjugation of many other border states to the north and then to the west.   

At the time Lenny Sukzor had been baffled by his mother's silent brooding and her seeming indifference when she heard news of the conquest and then the humiliating subjugation of Korion. Lenny Sukzor again winced recollecting his unfair, remonstrations with his mother that had resulted in her (copious) profuse tears.  

Lenny sat upright and, after drinking two swigs (mouthfuls) of water from the jug to quench his thirst, he went over and drew aside a crack the thick window (coverings) curtains, wishing to gaze at the night sky to calm his mind and bring about sleep. The remaining hours however had passed in a wink with no such luck; when the first rays of dawn (sunrise) caressed his face, “Oh well, I might as well get up now.” Grumbling, he threw his covers off and bolted from the bed.  

Shortly after dawn that same day, Lenny Sukzor arrived at Yoshikon Temple as he, a devout Hexoc, so often did, to offer prayers and give sacrifice to the local deity. As was the custom, a monk was assigned to assist him in bringing the complex rituals to completion after which he was served a specially prepared tea by the same monk in a private corner.

There was nothing unusual in this peaceful exchange and time for soothing reflection, a time in which, the monk clarified the scriptures or resolved a particular concern of a Hexos’ devotee. But appearances can be deceiving. It was not entirely by accident, that this monk had been assigned to Lenny Sukzor, nor was it strictly religious doctrines that were, with hushed voices, being discussed. With spies rampant everywhere, Black Molochs had developed an ingenious, coded dialogue where a rich duplicity of meanings was encapsulated in religious terminology and metaphors. This was one of three alternate means with which contact ‘couriers conveyed a vital covert message to the secret affiliate. Thus far they had been most fortunate that this means of communication had escaped detection by the ever-watchful agents of one of the other factions.  

Although Channing at night was a beehive of clandestine activities, necessitating the rigorous vigilance of the Secret Police to track (track) most if not all of it, there was by no means any laxity felt during the daylight hours either.  

Whether it was a brazen act or a foolhardy one, Wenjenkun’s Minister of Internal Security- Egil Viggoaries held the most secret meetings of his coterie in broad daylight right under their noses, disguised of course as official acts or plausible social calls. This afternoon, the members of the Inner Circle of the Order of The Black Molochs that were gathered in the meeting hall were particularly restless. They were all bound together by an intricate system of complex initiation rituals, secret oaths, and ceremonial intermingling of living blood, and it was one of their own who would be tried before them now. At the proper time, the news of Zhadol Borym’s capture, and subsequent incarceration had reached them all. Whether they admitted it or not, Zhadol had ingratiated himself with all the members of the Order's Inner Circle and, as the veteran member of the group, most owed him a favor or two.  

04- COMANDER ZHADOL BORYM

  

Mindful of this stiff opposition, Egil Viggoaries had taken certain precautionary measures to curb all anticipated appeals on behalf of Zhadol. For some time now he had deemed Zhadol as expendable and already had his replacement waiting in the wings. As a means of demonstrating his incompetence and ineffectiveness, Zhadol had been assigned to a task that was doomed (with certain measure of certainty) to fail. When news of Fradel Rurik Korvald’s safe arrival in the Capital had reached him, Egil Viggoaries had neither been surprised nor particularly pleased. It had merely turned out just as he had anticipated it, although the subsequent reports of Zhadol Borym’s attempted suicide had taken him aback ever so slightly.  

Yes, that piece of news had disappointed, or rather, annoyed him, for he had at least expected, or hoped for a more fitting end to the old pro.  

Of course, Egil Viggoaries would never admit this, even to himself, and would have outright denied that a small part of him secretly harbored a certain fondness for his once lifelong companion. The simple fact was that Zhadol Borym had grown useless of late; he had softened up. Admittedly, the source of this weakness was his relationship with Lieutenant Yennic Zhiborym, and Egil Viggoaries was not above underhandedly manipulating this relationship to his own advantage. Once, at a rare moment’s weakness, Egil had regretted this ploy, but even so he could delude himself only so much. In truth, unable to purge his heart of this seething jealous anger, this dissatisfaction with Zhadol Borym. He had sought by this means to denigrate him, to pay him back for that insolent, ill-conceived act.  

As anticipated, it had been Yennic who had stopped Zhadol from terminating his own life while at the same time covertly abetted in Zhadol’s capture. Yennic thought he was invaluable because he could communicate with the ravens; a claim Egil Viggoaries did not truly believe, thinking it to be nothing more than a parlor trick. Ambitious cur that he was, Yennic had hoped to advance his own prospects through this act of treachery, only to find he had grossly underestimated the gravity of the situation and the dire outcome, not only for Zhadol but for himself as well.

05- LIEUTENANT YENNIC

  

“Did the worm really think that we would not find out about him; furthermore, that the Order would blindly foster his ambitions? He had some gall (some nerves, cheek). “Egil scoffed with utter disdain. For even if Yennic had been other than what Egil had suspected, he would still be of little use to the Order. Egil Viggoaries ate rodents like Yennic for breakfast.  

“Could it be that he did not understand the Ritual? He was motivated out of true affection?"  Egil Viggoaries, meanwhile, typically turned a deft ear to the sympathetic whispers about Zhadol.  

“Well, no point in delaying the inevitable.” Egil Viggoaries grimaced venomously as he descended the steps leading to the antechamber.  

As soon as he entered the room, they all snapped smartly to attention; heads slightly bowed in ritual submission. At the same instant, a strained silence took hold, enveloping the assembly. With deliberate slowness, Egil Viggoaries strode to the other side of the hall and assumed his position. When seated he scanned the faces of the eleven men before him, meeting their eyes as they stood rigidly erect, hands at their sides, motionless as if they had been cast in bronze.  

Egil Viggoaries’s eyes passed over Lenny Sukzor, resting for an extended period on this replacement of Lance Diostin as he stood farthest away in the circle, least in nominal order of importance. As he sized the man up, he noted how the recruit was puffed up with arrogance and he nodded coolly, absently as he donned a sinister grin. The starkly unoccupied chair to Egil Viggoaries’s right stood as a magnet for the ambitions spread out below him and as a grim reminder of the coming unpleasantness that awaited them at the end of this day's session.  

One by one, the more pressing matters on the agenda were swiftly dealt with. From this point on, the orders and instructions would be relayed to the rest. The eighty-nine subordinate officers who, each entrusted with small, strictly regimented contingents of their own in all corners of the empire, waited in the wings. It was indisputably the most efficient spy network, as well as a competent paramilitary force that was not to be trifled with. It was all the brainchild of one man, Egil Viggoaries, who had constructed the foundations of this network in theory when he was no more than thirteen years of age.

Briefly perusing the preliminary issues on the agenda for the next gathering, Egil Viggoaries then set up the ordinary business aside and motioned for the prisoners to be brought in to face their tribunal. Their trial and sure conviction had already occurred, in the mind of Egil Viggoaries and this scene was a sham, a mere formality to make a sure impression on the others under a pretense of fairness. It was a game Egil Viggoaries occasionally allowed himself to indulge in.

Despite the sure anticipation of Zhadol’s condition, his appearance all bound and gagged and his face bearing the sure signs of grievous maltreatment, which evoked in many of his former comrades the long forgotten, deeply buried feelings of compassion and pity.

06- WARRIOR FRIENDS (33)

No one cared about the inconsequential Yennic Zhiborym, whose face and body bore the traces of the most horrendous and brutal torture; and where once most of his refined, distinctive features attracted many, presently bore the marks of countless lacerations and ugly deep scars.  Yet this fact did not even elicit one furrowed brow; far from it, it pleased them to observe Yennic's obvious tortured state. He was so roundly despised for his role in the capture and vilification of Zhadol. They jeered and gnashed their teeth when viewing Yennic, yet heaved a secret, dejected sigh when stealing a glance at Zhadol Borym. Still, not a single whisper of protest mounted on Zhadol Borym's behalf escaped their tightly sealed lips, so properly intimidated were they by the wrath of Egil Viggoaries.

Nevertheless, in the averted eyes of a more enlightened minority, there were unmistakable indications (marks) of slight visible hint, as they looked for ways to exonerate Zhadol Borym from all blame. Truth be told, they had stealthily harbored the notion that their compatriot had been the unfortunate victim of an odious intrigue and that his failure was but compounded from that original failing.

07- FRIENDS OF COMMANDER ZHADOL

With a slight indication of the chin from Egil Viggoaries, the stone-faced guards pushed Zhadol Borym forward to fall to his knees before the Dark Eunuch. Egil Viggoaries had earned that distinction of being referred to as Dark Eunuch, because of the extreme cruelty of his innate nature and soul.  

Linked to Zhadol Borym by the heavy bronze chains, this action of the guards had also pushed Yennic Zhiborym on his knees, causing the manacles to sink further into the already gaping wounds in his neck, ankles, and wrists. But Yennic’s involuntary cry of pain had elicited only a brief mocking glances from few of the Inner Circle members of the Black Molochs; contrastingly, Zhadol's eyes had held a degree of compassion for the rag doll of a figure who had once been his friend. Looking away from Yennic, Zhadol Borym fearlessly glared round this circle of stone-faced leaders, forcing them one by one to avert their eyes before he next turned his burning, defiant, reproachful gaze to rest on Egil Viggoaries.  

“So, all these years of loyalty (loyal service) and intimacy counted for nothing? Now I am discarded like a dirty rag. I protest this injustice; I do not deserve this disgraceful treatment!”  

Despite the rush of memories Zhadol's defiant, intrepid manner had brought to Egil Viggoaries’s mind, he had remained outwardly resolute and pinned his icy, odious glare (eyes filled with loathing) on Zhadol. “There can be no absolution for your crime! You know the rules, yet you dared to stand stoically unrelenting!"  The Dark Eunuch’s furious roar suddenly broke the tense, eerie silence that had enveloped the room.  

"Death is death!" Zhadol Borym spat the words out of his bloodied, bruised mouth as he glared back at Egil Viggoaries. Bristling with anger, he cried out in a voice that crackled with hatred and revulsion. "My only crime is that prior, I tried to cheat you out of the great satisfaction my death would bring you. So why defer your perverse pleasure? Get on with it!” Then, scornfully, he added, "But have you considered all the possible ramifications of your actions?"  

Egil Viggoaries reared upwards like a viper (cobra) and hissed, "Are you finished?"  

"Finished; no, not by a long shot!" Zhadol Borym defiantly countered. As a condemned man he had little to lose, and he was determined to face his end with stoicism and a certain dignity. He spoke fervently, "We all know you sent me on that fool's errand knowing I would fail. You deemed I was expendable, and you wanted me to be supplanted (replaced, offed). But why should you go to all that trouble?"  Then Zhadol Borym gave a derisive laugh.  

All present in the hall quaked in their boots for his dared effrontery. Zhadol Borym may be a doomed man, yet they knew that Egil Viggoaries was not one to be provoked.   

“Such prodigious (immense, outstanding) audacity (nerve) Zhadol Borym had!”  All eyes were pinned on Egil Viggoaries, trying to gauge the cruelty of his response. Unfortunately, the Dark Eunuch's stone-cold face said it all.   

Even though Egil had remained outwardly, atypically placid, the threat was implicit in his eyes. Furthermore, his icy silence spoke volumes. Zhadol would pay, and oh so dearly, for this (impudence) outburst!  

08- EGIL VIGGOARIES - THE DARK EUNUCH

Lieutenant Yennic , unwisely (foolishly) at this point summoning all his strength, girded up his courage and edged forward, ready to use his glib tongue, while it was still attached to his mouth, to plead for both their lives. Before he could speak, however, he was struck flat by the stout, heartless guards. No one wanted to hear from Yennic at this juncture; he was nothing more than mere vermin.  

"I warned you," Zhadol’s reproachful and dismayed look said to Yennic, as he shook his head. 

"But would you listen? Would you listen to good counsel? (pay me any heed?)"  

   

Even though Zhadol knew it was useless, his compassionate heart nevertheless urged him to plead on Yennic’s behalf; Yennic might be spared small measure of punishment, if Zhadol humiliated himself enough, to appease Egil Viggoaries’s perverse sensibilities.  

Surmising his intent, Egil Viggoaries grinned. "You would do better to plead for your own self." He leaned forward to sneer (jeer, taunt, hiss) venomously.

"Would it do any good?" Zhadol Borym sternly asked.  

"No," Egil Viggoaries glowered down at him, "but it may amuse us and we may then possibly show some measure of leniency in the severity of and (length) span of time of “TK Cuts,” before your demise."  He was of course blatantly lying. There would be no mercy; his face contorted in a snarling grin as he leaned back once more to scan with narrow, pitiless eyes on the faces in the room.

“Ten Thousand Cuts,” Zhadol Borym winced and swallowed hard. "Why so severe a penalty?"  He then got a grip on his senses and, again defiantly, incredulously, shook his head.  His horror meanwhile was impromptu (involuntarily) mirrored on the faces of all those assembled. Suddenly, the profusion of images, those wretched beings, and the anguished cries of the past victims, which Dark Eunuch had doomed to this manner of death, now paraded before everyone’s eyes, and echoed in their ears.

Zhadol, despite his outward stoicism, inwardly could not help but recoil in horror, for he knew all too well; the prolonged suffering (of appalling shame, ghastly anguish) that awaited him in the depths of dungeons below before his life finally was terminated! His body, now defiant of his will, slightly trembled, and his knees threatened to buckle under him.  

“That’s a terrible way to die!” All eyes in the circle implored Egil Viggoaries. “This is not right; his crime is not grave enough to warrant such punishment. He is, or rather was, one of us.”  

Despite his ashen face, his quaking muscles, Zhadol Borym bit his tongue and clenched his fists, refusing to give Egil Viggoaries more of what he wanted, knowing in his heart of hearts that it would not do him any good. Even so, was there no one there brave enough to raise the slightest protest, the least objection for him? A fleeting tragic smile crossed Zhadol’s lip and then changed to a grimace of contempt as he looked. No, spineless cowards were all; he stood alone in all of this. After Zhadol’s eyes had searched the faces of his fellow associates, it had then abruptly caught Yennic's bewildered look and, fearing the worst for his partner, Zhadol turned his questioning stare back on Egil Viggoaries.

Answering the unspoken question with a venomous grin, Egil Viggoaries nodded.  

“How could I have expected any different?” Zhadol Borym lowered his eyes and ceded the point, pained that Yennic Zhiborym, too, awaited the same ill fate.  

  

(END OF SECTION 1)    

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 24

Prefect Micen Do and his assistant Mouro Kerr spent that afternoon overseeing the plan and deliberating on the meticulous steps they would take.  Since Micen felt that Yenis held the key to too many riddles and was the most expendable, Mouro was assigned the gruesome, tiresome task of her interrogation and torture. Knowing that Mouro's personal preference drifted more towards male actors and young man, Micen remained confident of his success.  Mouro would not be so easily swayed or beguiled by her feminine charms to show her any pity and easy going on the torture.

01- YENIS

Unreconciled at first to her fate, Yenis had stuck to her story, using everything within her means to seduce Mouro, but she’d failed to sway (affect, move) him.  Where another would have succumbed to her irresistible charms and consequently human frailty, lust Mouro had instead, maintained his stone-cold composure and unyielding, hard (merciless) heart.  Without a trace of compassion, the finger vise and other brutal instruments of torture were repeatedly applied until the truth was literally wrung out of her.  She sobbed out her full confession, which was promptly written up and submitted.

As soon as it reached him, Micen Do poured it over in the comfort of his study. Her story, after all her reticence, was a simple one.

This innocent seeming beauty had, in fact, conspired with her lover, one called Canute Yonn, to dispose of her husband, Senson Luko, and then afterwards ran away with his valuables in order to begin a new life elsewhere.

Yenis had never loved her sadistic husband and, in truth, had wholeheartedly despised him.  Her family had owed Senson a great sum of money and the recent widower had proposed to overlook the debt if they, as he put it, "were to become related".

 In a despicable bargain, despite the vast age difference, her family had forced her to enter into wedlock with Senson Luko.

02--SENSON LUKO

Headstrong to begin with, she had not reconciled herself to loving Senson as a dutiful wife should and had immediately begun to seek happiness and gratification elsewhere.  Contrary to the wanton adulteress that the testimony of the vindictive Latham and Hacket Luko had made her out to be, circumstances kept Yenis outwardly faithful to her aged husband, though there was no lack of trying on her part.

The recent appearance of the tall, dashingly handsome, charming scholar/ warrior, Canute Yonn, on the scene had fulfilled her latest desire, this void in her heart, and precipitated the consequential, tragic set of events.

Canute with his gentle disposition and fine mannerisms, at their (numerous) secret rendezvous, had entertained her and remained most sensitive (attentive) to her needs and vacillating, oftentimes nitpicky moods until; he had completely won her over.

Believing that he would reciprocate her affections fully and that he would remain true to her, she had consented to his pleas for intimacy on more than one occasion. 

03-YENIS AND CANUTE YONN

Mouro Kerr had shamelessly extracted the complete details of these sexual encounters and recorded them in their entirety for Micen to drool over.

The killing of her husband had been Canute Yonn's idea, for Yenis would have been quite content with simply running away with her lover, carrying only her jewelry.  Canute had persistently warned her that, unless her vindictive husband was disposed of, Senson would spare no effort to hunt them down and bring her back to suffer ceaseless torments, to punish her for her indiscretion.  Forced to live hiding, they would always be looking over their shoulders, fearing discovery.  They would be robbed of solace and peace of mind regardless of the distance they may put between themselves and Denor City.

Seeing the obvious truth in his claim, Yenis was finally cajoled into accepting Senson's demise.  On that stormy night hence, she had snuck Canute into the compound and, as planned, led him through the interior of the house straight to her husband's bedchamber.  Being rather squeamish, she had wanted to wait outside and keep watch while Canute completed the gruesome task of decapitating Senson. But again, on his insistence she had been forced into being his accomplice.

Bloodthirsty Micen re-read this part of the confession with added interest:

“I let Canute through the side door and as he crept like a cat to a position behind sleeping Senson, I, as per instructed, silently disrobed, leaving only my undergarments on me, and stood just inside the room. In a most seductive whisper that I can muster, I called out my husband’s name, and then waited with fearful, trembling breath, for Senson to wake.  His eyelids opened, but then hungry, licentious gaze at once burrowing into me, he sat up bolt upright in his bed and, smirking (grinning), beckoned me to come to him. An involutory shudder passed through me, as I felt tormented by the sensation of my skin crawling with million insects, slithering and taking chunks out of my flesh.” Micen interrupted his reading at this moment and dawned a sinister, broad smile, imagining her in that compromised position.

“Just as Senson, delighting at my obvious unease, impatiently opened his mouth to bark his command at me, Canute struck from behind, in one powerful, lightening move he severed the main artery and sliced his throat. I nearly fainted at this gruesome sight, the terrible gurgling sound he made, the gushing blood! Then as if I was outside of myself, watching, observing the practiced way Canute tucked the head of Senson forward to stop the surge of blood. Next, he wielded his sword with practiced force once more, to decapitate him!  As the head rolled onto the floor and the corpse flopped back onto the bed, Canute moved in position to strike the body time and again, as if assuaging his deep-seated ire, his years of pent-up revenge, and mutilated Senson’s corpse with his swift, sure strokes.”

“I could no longer stand the grizzly, horrific scene any longer and so, in panic-stricken-terror I turned, picked up my wrap and fled to outside of the bedroom.  With wobbling legs, I willed myself to hasten to my chambers where I collapsed on the floor vomiting and crying, in a state quite beside myself. Sometime later when he came in, he was able to calm me down and with his assistance, I quickly dressed for the journey and gathered up the valuables to take with me. In my flustered (muddled) state I failed to note that Canute had taken for himself, a jewel- inlaid strong (metal) box, Senson’s prized possession. “

04- JEWEL-ENCRUSTED METAL BOX

 That night, in the cover of darkness, two cloaked riders, Yenis and her lover, had successfully made their getaway with some valuables, but certainly far less than the amount claimed to have been stolen by the Luko family.

Mouro proved his worth by gathering a detailed list of the stolen items, which verified (attested) that only one quarter of the goods that Luko family had claimed to have gone missing, exposing their mendacity (deceit).

After a long ride, Yenis and her lover had eventually taken refuge at Kuno Temple, mistakenly thinking that they would be safe there. It was also there where, in dust, Canute, invoking prayers, had made the fiery sacrifice, burning hell money and something else, she was not entirely sure what. As for the jewel encrusted metal box, failing to unlock it, he had tried smashing it, and when that also failed, in seething rage he then had thrown it down some deep well, she couldn’t say which one, only that it was somewhere within the temple grounds.

 Despite the severity of torture and all other means employed by Mouro, in order to extract the entire truth, Yenis had stuck to her original claim of ignorance of the box’s contents. Her husband, you see, had never let her see what was within it.

 At one point in her confession, she had even cursed herself for not realizing the obvious change in Canute Yonn’s demeanor, shortly after his fiery sacrifice and later still, his unusual refusal to seduce her, that first night in the Temple.

At the time quite unsuspectingly, she had attributed his indifference to his superstitious beliefs as the ruins had permeated (infused) such an overwhelming eerie aura.

 It was beyond her comprehension that, as she slept that night, her beloved would so heartlessly sneak away with the valuables and horses, leaving her stranded to face a fate far worse than death. It was indeed a wonder that she had maintained her sanity through it all.  Victimized and betrayed in this cruelest fashion, when her tears were all but spent, she had vowed in her bitterness that, if she survived her ordeal she would, from then on, seek vengeance and bring destruction upon all men.

Fradel Rurik Korvald, although not deserving of her wrath, was unfortunate enough to have stumbled into the path of her rage and scorn.

Though he had treated her most solicitously and honorably, she could not soften her heart even a little to forget her bitter disappointment with Canute Yonn.  Consequently, it had been her intention from the first to seduce Fradel Rurik Korvald and make him pay dearly as a kind of atonement for Canute Yonn's sins.  She was luring Fradel, by feeding him false information, away from Denor City with the intention of never letting him go when they were, unexpectedly, apprehended by the authorities.

05- NEVETS AND FEM FATALE  YENIS

“What a wretched fool!  Women are such weaklings.” With a contemptuous snort, Micen put her confession aside and then sent for Mouro.  Upon his assistant's prompt response, Micen relayed his orders with a stern visage, "You must dispatch the search parties at once for the apprehension of the one called Canute Yonn, now that his complete description has been secured from the woman."

"Yes, you’re Honor; that has already been taken care of.  Begging for your pardon sir, but, since there was little time to be spared, I took the liberty of sending out every available guard we have to scour the Prefecture in force for the culprit.  Wanted posters, offering the customary reward for the criminal's capture, are being posted at every junction as we speak.  I'm presently awaiting news of his capture."

Looking pleased, Micen acknowledged, "In this instance your perfunctory response was most appropriate.  You may now return to your other duties.  You are to inform me the very minute you learn of his capture; Dismissed!"

The second after Mouro's back was turned, Micen's face blackened with annoyance.

“What audacity!  What gall he has to act without first consulting with me!  Next thing you know, he'll be presiding over my court.  He's efficient, yes, but far too clever, too overbearing and too ambitious.  I must watch him carefully and never let my guard down for a moment where he's concerned.  I may have further need of him for now, but I had better look towards finding his replacement long before he becomes a real threat to me.”

                                                                                   ~

 

(END OF SECTION 24)