Showing posts with label slander. Show all posts
Showing posts with label slander. Show all posts

Sunday, 28 September 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 14

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 14

 

“Now, you've heard how Kuric and Ruat had a falling out a while back?"   Zhadol paused to acknowledge the confirming nod from Yennic before continuing, "It’s no secret that, since then, they have become bitter adversaries, always trying to undermine each other.”


01-KURIC AND RUAT

“Sorek’s involvement was quite incidental.  In fact, it is my contention that he was victimized by the malicious slander that started it all.  Chakon, Kuric's brother-in-law, spread it with the hope of gaining much from Sorek's downfall."

"So, it was Chakon who told-on (betrayed) him?"

"No, Chakon doesn't have much clout.  He was only the instrument.  Ruat was behind it all.  He caused Sorek's disgrace after he'd finally succeeded in landing in Kuric, in serious trouble.  I suppose he feared repercussions from Sorek and worked to render him ineffective.  As for the trouble Kuric landed in, well you know Kuric has already been arrested, charged with conspiring with Frenzo in grand larceny and has had all his property confiscated."

"Then there was some truth to that rumor but that's preposterous!  He never even knew Frenzo." Yennic objected.

"None the less, Ruat has produced enough solid, incriminating evidence to prove otherwise.  It is also my contention that this is pure fabrication but who is there to contest it and prove otherwise?  All of Kuric's associates have severed their friendships and dealings with him out of fear.  Some have even fled the Capital, anticipating the ensuing repercussions."

"But not Sorek," Yennic grunted (contradicted).


02- SOREK

"Sorek was a fool,” Zhadol scoffed.  "Still, they couldn't have touched him because of his powerful family but, instead of keeping his mouth shut and laying low for a while, he incited trouble.  Over one trivial word, that's all it took.  Egil Viggoaries's spies, once informed by Ruat, brought this to His Excellency's attention.  Sorek was kidnapped, interrupting his sleep, in the middle of the night and brought before the Black Molochs to give an account of his disrespect.  Instead of cowering before the ensuing secret tribunal and begging Egil Viggoaries's mercy, as any sensible person might do, the fool remained indignant and insisted on the falseness of the charge.  I have no doubt the report was greatly exaggerated to make it come out as it did, but still there was some grain of truth to it.  Anyhow, not only was Sorek whipped senseless, but he was also disgraced by being stripped naked to the waist and …"   Zhadol abruptly fell silent and dropped his head.

 "I have no love for Sorek, you understand," he lifted his eyes, "but I felt that this branding punishment was a bit too severe."

"Is that why you refused to take part in, hmm, “Riding the Colt”, at the informal gathering in wee hours that night in His Excellency’s residence?" Yennic eagerly asked.

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about it?"

"I ran into the physician Coj, who attended on Sorek the next day." Yennic confessed.

"He's an old friend of my father's and I was under his good care when I'd contracted that serious childhood disease, Lurox Sores. Seeing his distraught state, I treated him to some wine, and, in his intoxicated state, he finally opened up to me a little.”

“But that muddle-headed fool Coj was too incoherent with his accounts (facts) to be of much use. Truly, I remained ignorant of the precise details that led up to the punishment till; I'd pieced it all together while I listened to you, just now."

“A likely story,” Nevetsecnuac smiled broadly.

Zhadol, appeared totally taken in (convinced) for, typically, he was blinded by his affection where Yennic was concerned.

"Your mind works quickly." Zhadol complimented.

"Thank you.” Yennic was pleased. “Yet Sorek is from one of the most powerful, old-established families, and their influence has grown further since Her Ladyship, recently the most favorite of His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek, awarded them her patronage.  Surely if anyone could have brought formal charges against His Excellency Egil Viggoaries before His Highness, they could.  Why is it then that Sorek's father chose to cover up this incident?"

"They knew it was useless.  Don't you understand?"   Zhadol looked intently at the Lieutenant.

"Yes," Yennic nodded, comprehending. "It would have been rather pointless for them to pursue the matter.  If it ever did become public knowledge the family would have suffered far worse from the loss of face.  That is why the whole matter was hushed up, swept under the carpet, so to speak, so expeditiously."

"Egil Viggoaries, knowing their weakness, dared to act as he did, choosing the perfect humiliation for one of Sorek's breeding.  In this instance, political power had very little to do with it,” Zhadol summarized.

Yennic knitted his brows, "Yet Sorek's uncle, Chancellor Derez, is known to be a dogged, vindictive man.  How did they manage to keep him out of this?"


03-CHANCELLOR DEREZ

"He's been too wrapped up in his own questionable dealings of late to pay too much attention to family matters.  That extortionist,” Zhadol snorted. "He's the worst of the lot, but he enjoys the protection of you-know-who and no one may speak ill of him or dare to expose his dirty dealings.  You know of the recent case of the Kyu murder?"

Yennic was aghast.  "He wasn't involved in that, was he?"

"Involved," Zhadol sneered.  "He engineered the whole thing."

"You have proof of your allegations?"

"Yes, but I dare not breathe a word of it to anyone other than you.  Anyhow, it’s all been covered up and two other innocent parties have been made to pay for the crime."

"You don't mean that Jekon and Mayoz Dur were innocent, after all," Yennic gasped.


04-JEKON

05-MAYOZ DUR


"Yes, they were.  I found out who had really carried out that gruesome deed."

"But those two confessed to doing it." Yennic insisted in disbelief.

"You, too, would have confessed to anything if you were subjected to the same kind of tortures they had been." Zhadol grimaced.

"They were publicly hanged!  Their families wiped out!" Yennic mumbled grimly, finding it hard to swallow this travesty of injustice.  The revelation had hit him particularly hard.  He recalled being an eyewitness to the executions and, like so many others, feeling a sense of vindication, that is, until now.

 Zhadol was perplexed by Yennic's strange demeanor and noted the strain, his grave expression which Yannic had failed to mask.  He was about to ask why Yennic took this news so hard when he was cut off.

"you’ve said you knew who the real assassins were…tell me before I burst; who were those darn cut-throats?" Yennic hotly demanded.

"Why, by the Heavens, are you getting all worked up for?  It’s all over and done with.  There isn't much that you, or anyone, can do now. Besides, it’s best that you remain ignorant of their identities.  Otherwise, with your hot head…"   Zhadol shook his head dismally, the concern evident in his voice. "With that explosive nature of yours you'll most likely land yourself in serious trouble.  I can't go around saving your neck all the time, you know.  Even I have my limitations."

 He held up a hand to cut short Yennic's bursting response.  "Honestly; it’s best you don't know of it.  I'm finding it hard to live with it myself."  He half turned, shrugging his shoulders, and looking away dispassionately.  "Then again, what's one more heaped on the mountain of injustices?"

Typically, his wise counsel fell on deaf ears as Yennic grasped Zhadol’s arm and swung him around till they were eye to eye.  "No, I must know!  You must tell me!" Yennic implored, charged with emotion.

Stone faced, Zhadol studied Yennic with curiosity. “Why are you being so persistent?  I've never known you to have ever been this emotional about a case before.”

"Don't you see?"  Yennic suddenly dropped Zhadol’s arm then abruptly confessed, "I was made their instrument, or don't you know that?  Of course, you were away on assignment when the case came up.  I helped capture Jekon and Mayoz Dur and deliver them to their unjust end.  I was the arresting officer!"  Yennic dropped his head in remorse.  "Even though they had once done me a good turn and they professed their innocence from the start, I still took them in."  Biting the corner of his lip, he looked up to Zhadol for absolution, "How was I to know?  Could I have acted any differently?"

Clearly Yennic was tormented by guilt and Zhadol nodded in understanding.  By putting his personal feelings aside, Yennic had, as always, done his utmost to impress his Superior.  Perhaps this once should have delved deeper into the reasons for it.

 "Then this portends (augurs) even more trouble."   Zhadol shook his head, "I'm sorry, Yennic, but..."  Yennic's contemptuous look froze the words on his tongue.

"You think so little of me?" Yennic turned his head away in dejection.

"If I do tell you their names, will you promise not to stir up trouble?"   Zhadol was softening.  "Promise me you won't go after them, for to do so would result only in your own undoing.  You'll be framed for some crime, or worse found lying dead in some ditch within a month.  You're too small a fish to fry and, though they may be insignificant in the scheme of things, they have powerful backing and they're treacherous, devoid of all conscience.  That's what makes them deadly for you."

"Yes,” Yennics responded. “I’ll take that into consideration.  I promise I won't do anything foolish; now, tell me who they are and, since this matter is so delicate, tell me how you found out about it."

"How I found out is not important, but..."

Yennic grasped Zhadol’s arm, squeezing it tight.  He already surmised how Zhadol had found out; the way he always found out about everything.  "You were about to tell me their names.  Stop all this stalling and tell me.  Tell me now!"

"You're out of line, Lieutenant!"   Zhadol jerked his arm free then, despite his better judgment, relented.  "It’s none other than Zunrogo Tugo and Gaos Zunkur."

These names, of course, meant nothing to Nevetsecnuac but he saw their profound effect on Yennic who, with clenched fist, gritted his teeth under snarling lips and dropped his head.

Concern registered on Zhadol’s face and, for the third time he reminded Yennic of his promise of constraint.  In his heart he knew, of course, that Yennic would break it for the Lieutenant had many other reasons for hating Zunrogo Tugo, especially Zunrogo.


06 - ZUNROGO TUGO JP 5

This latest bit had just added to the long list of grievances Yennic harbored against the man.  Yet this seeming calm on Yennic's part particularly alarmed Zhadol.  He would rather have seen Yennic explode with his predictable, searing rage, swearing abuse, and calling for hot, sweet revenge but nothing, not even a grunt or a muttered curse passed through those lips.  The brutal glint in his eye spoke volumes, however, about the inner resentment festering within him.

“Why are you holding me responsible?”  Zhadol shot back a questioning glance.

This unnerving silence had lasted only seconds but to all three it had seemed as though a far longer period had elapsed.

"Come now, we've been away long enough."   Zhadol placed a gentle, reassuring hand on Yennic's shoulder.

"The dawn should soon be upon us.  Let us return and get some shut eye."

Yennic responded with a mute nod then sprung smartly to his feet.  Halting briefly, they relieved themselves under the very tree in which Nevetsecnuac was hiding.  The cool breeze fanned their faces and delighted their senses as they lent a casual ear to distant hooting and the flapping of wings.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 14)

                                                                                       ~

Saturday, 15 March 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 4

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 4


Lu, unaware of Nevetsecnuac’s inner query, took another sip of water from the cup and then continued on with his recounting (relating) the past, tragic set of events: "Her husband, Kenneth Birger, though a man of mild nature, in fact quite timid, was still so outraged, so incensed that, with the letter still clutched in his hand, he took his grievance straight to Lord Shonne Gulbrand, not much caring for the consequences.  I suppose he had really loved her.”


01- KENNETH BIRGER

“Dwenng denied the charges for all he was worth; even producing witnesses to lie about his whereabouts saying he was instead attending another function. Dwenng validated this bogus facade through sham testimonies of others who repeated falsehoods all in all to slander her good name and to drag it through unimaginable filth in order to establish her as a wanton hussy.  He even went so far as to frame another man, who resembled him, to justify his supposed innocence and establish a claim of mistaken identity.  Had it not been for the Lord's discernment, good judgment and his ability to trick a confession out of Dwenng in the court under oath, justice would never have been served, and another innocent fellow would have instead suffered the consequences.  As it was the framed man was cleared and released with a small stipend from Dwenng's estate to ease his suffering.”


02-LORD SHONNE GULBRAND (7)

“Lord Shonne Gulbrand was relentless in his pursuit of truth. When all came to light, Dwenng was charged with attempted rape, trespassing and extortion. His sentence was prescribed by law. He was severely beaten until his flesh hung in tatters, and he was branded with the mark of the adulterer.  No one foresaw that, before his transfer to the provincial prison to serve his incarceration for twenty years, Dwenng would bribe the guards and effect (prompt, make)) his escape.  Lusting for vengeance, armed with the incriminating documents of Lord Shonne Gulbrand's intended rebellion, he made straight for the Capital and in close court presented them to Zakhertan Yozdek.”

"Though Zakhertan Yozdek was infuriated, he nevertheless knew of Lord Shonne Gulbrand’s moral might and influence.  Not wishing for an all-out, open rebellion at this juncture or to give the least provocation for swift retaliation from such a powerful Lord, Zakhertan opted instead to entrap the prey and eliminate all trouble at the root.  And so, Zakhertan’s subterfuge was to suppress this incriminating evidence and detain the villainous nephew, Dwenng, until the Anniversary date of Zakhertan’s coronation.  At which time an elaborate ceremony was planned, compelling all important aristocrats and notables of the Empire to attend with customary gifts, to profess or renew their vow of allegiance to His Majesty in person.  Lord Shonne Gulbrand, his beautiful wife Lady Bergdis and other close family members would be among the attendees.”

“On that faithful day, all through the ceremony and the ensuing celebrations nothing untoward was said or done to alarm the prey.  But at the conclusion of the festivities the Lord and his immediate family were promptly rounded up and brought before Zakhertan Yozdek to be formally charged with treason. During their brief incarceration, even before the commencement of the trial, the vast elite force, waiting in the wings in a neighboring province, on cue invaded Lord Shonne Gulbrand's lands in Moulon and decimated all that stood in their way. Thousands were slaughtered indiscriminately, land scorched, and historical structures wantonly pulled down. After this killing spree, nearly all livestock and crops were laid to waste.” 



“Back at the Capital, where the rule of law could not be so easily ignored, Lord Shonne, after a brief show trial, was secretly offered leniency in his punishment and, more importantly the (permanence) endurance of his bloodline, if he divulged the present whereabouts of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and the infant Prince. When Lord Shonne adamantly refused, however, his Lordship’s persecution took on a brutish turn. Lord Shonne chained to a wall in the imperial dungeon, was subjected to endless hideous tortures in order to wring the location from him, but no word escaped his Lordship’s noble lips. Since they failed to break his resolve, Zakhertan next targeted Lord Shonne’s beloved family. Before his very eyes his precious son and daughter were choked to death with a silken rope.  Lord Shonne's elderly maternal uncle, meanwhile, was dashed against a hedge of swords.”

“Earlier still, Zakhertan Yozdek had arranged for a private audience with his younger sister Lady Ingrit and tried to persuade her Ladyship to turn against her husband. Zakhertan even tried to coax (cajole, inveigle) her into divulging the whereabouts of the missing price, to spare her husband the ultimate pain and torture. But her ladyship’s deep affection and loyalty towards her husband was unwavering; her staunch resolve infuriated Zakhertan and so, Lord Shonne’s beautiful wife, Lady Ingrit, was dragged into the dungeon (like a common criminal) and cruelly beaten to death before him with iron rods and clubs. Courageously, to her last breath she had cursed her brother Zakhertan and encouraged her beloved husband to not give in.  After all that, plus other unspeakable atrocities, when Lord Shonne still would not give them what they sought, he too was severely beaten until all his bones were broken and then publicly executed.  They hung his decapitated head at the main gate as a lesson to all would be rebels.”

“Zakhertan Yozdek was so incensed that he ordered the total extinction(obliteration) of Lord Shonne Gulbrand’s clan, down to the last member. Even the servants were killed.” 

Cupping his face in his hands, Lu gave way to a storm of tears until his sorrow was spent.  Then, drying his eyes, he added, "Yes, the Lord's perfect countenance we have just witnessed testifies to the mercy of Heaven and attests to the truth of that old saying, 'Benevolence in Life brings Beauty in the afterlife'.  The traitor Zakhertan Yozdek will not be so lucky.  If only someone could succeed in killing that, Demon!  Countless have tried, but to no avail.”

"As for Dwenng, the wretch, at least he paid for his treachery with his ignominious end.  May he rot forever in Hell!  Oh, how he squirmed like a pig, impaled on a spear in the City’s marketplace, but some would say, including me, even that was too lenient a punishment for one so vile as he.  The cursed swine!  Did he really think he could get away with what he had done?"  Knitting his brows and raising a clenched fist, Lu spat on the floor.

"Our small contingent, upon returning from the mission, witnessed too late the evidence of Zakhertan's wrath. But we avenged ourselves on the garrison commander of Zakhertan's forces in this province.  After leaving his head stuck to a sow in a pigsty outside his camp, we parted company forever.  I, myself, retraced my steps to where I had parted with Your Majesty and Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon in the hopes of offering His Lordship my services once more, but it was to no avail.  Now you are here, let me offer you my fealty, my Prince."  Lu's eyes burned with rekindled fire.  "I realize I'm not as nimble as I used to be, but I still have a few good years of service left in me.  I can still fight.  I will follow you faithfully, Your Highness, to the ends of the world, not fearing death.  Please allow me this chance."

Not wishing to fatigue the old man any further with reasons as to why he must stay put, Nevetsecnuac pretended to agree to let Lu accompany him to the Capital. 

Then, noting the old soldier's drooping eyelids, he encouraged him to recline on the bed once more and get some rest.

"All right", Lu consented, "I'll lie down for just a bit, but I will not sleep.  There is so much I still want to tell you. So much we must do in preparation for…."  His words drifted off to an inaudible mumble, his eyes closed and soon with his shallow breathing it became clear that he was lost to all-encompassing slumber.  Nevetsecnuac rose, affectionately covered Lu with a quilt then with pensive eyes watched Lu sleep for some time.



Borrowing Lu's meager writing implements, he composed a brief letter telling of his gratitude to this old warrior, giving his reasons for not allowing Lu to accompany him and asking his forgiveness. To foster hope, Nevetsecnuac then urged Lu to keep in good form in ready anticipation of that future time when, once Nevetsecnuac had achieved his goal, he would send for him.  He then bade his fond farewell to the old soldier.  He withdrew his money pouch from his sash and left a goodly portion of the contents beside Lu's bed wrapped in the letter.

Before dawn the rain tapered off then, at the first light of day, stopped altogether.  Appearing only as a shadowy figure, Nevetsecnuac snuck out of the city gates and, reaching the Inn where he’d checked in earlier, ordered a small breakfast, quickly settled his account then had Fiery Comet saddled.  He rode back to the small, wooded area outside the gates where he had buried Lord Asger's sword.  Again, with the sword slung on his back and concealed under the cape, he vaulted back onto Fiery Comet and fell into a canter towards the Capital.



It was mid-morning when Lu woke with a start.  His eyes eagerly searched for the prince but there was no trace of him. Understanding what had happened he cursed himself endlessly for eating and drinking so much the night before.  Consequently, the deep slumber had robbed him of the chance of a lifetime. With a sinking heart he scrambled to his feet.

Lu shook his head and stamped his foot thinking, now it would be far too late to track his Liege.  Then his eyes fell on the small bundle on the table, he unraveled it.

Tears coursed down his cheeks like rain onto the page he was reading, smudging some of the writing but, when he reached the last line, hope sprang up once again in his heart and he quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Thankfully he raised the note to his lips, and then as caution dictated, he went over to the fire and reluctantly fed the paper to the flames. 

Another kind of fire burned in Lu now and he paced the room to and for with his heart pounding as he mumbled, "I must get in shape.  I must get in shape."  Finally halting for breath, he threw his arms up into the air and shouted in a resounding voice, "Oh, blessed Heaven, I'm alive again!"

 

(END OF SECTION 4)

 


Monday, 6 January 2025

THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 10

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 10


"Dufo, Kundrick Dufo?  Where have I heard that name before?” Stark (Asger) sounded a somewhat muted (whispered) query.

"Please forgive my presumption, my Lord, but, as I have understood it, you’re Lordship had the privilege of being tutored by numerous famed scholars in your youth, one of whom..."

"But of course!" Stark (Asger) raised an impatient hand recalling at once his esteemed teacher Sorgun Dufo and his son Kundrick; a meek little boy of two Kundrick was then, always accompanying his father to the study but remaining   attentive yet quiet as a mouse in the background.  Even so, Stark (Asger) stole a dubious glance at Alec.  "You are exceptionally well informed about things pertaining to me, sir."

Alec's response however was timely interrupted by an inquiry from Svein, and the details concerning Stark’s (Asger’s) tutor Sorgun, and son Kundrick were briefly relayed.

Stark (Asger) then lapsed into momentary silence, as images from the past, when he was but eleven years old, succinctly played out before his mind's eye.

                                                                       ~

                                     

In that fleeting moment, Stark’s (Asger’s) thoughts had trailed to this unusually tall, thin, distinguished scholar, clad in immaculate, black attire, with his deep, penetrating, lugubrious(melancholy) eyes and unchanging, serious expression who spoke softly with weighty words that commanded your undivided attention.  Perhaps the strictest of his tutors, Sorgun Dufo, had won Asger's lasting respect and awe.  From the beginning   Asger was enthralled by all the mystery that had surrounded his esteemed teacher Sorgun Dufo's past (previous years), and he recalled how tirelessly, but nonetheless fruitlessly, he had tried to get at the facts.  What little information he had at first procured had been gleaned over the longest while from hints his father and mother had let fall about this scholar.


01- SORGUN DUFO


 For unknown reasons, scholar Sorgun Dufo and his only son Kundrick had left their stately home in far off Fukken province under the cover of night, never to return.  They had already traveled an immeasurable distance towards their mysterious destination when, dogged by several misfortunes and the incurred expenses, they were left destitute and stranded in Toren province. 

Asger's father, Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon, recognizing the scholars worth the instant of their chance encounter, had treated Sorgun with utmost courtesy and respect and, in keeping with his generous nature, had invited Sorgun to be his honored guest, lodged in their finest guest house for the duration of their indefinite stay. 

The old Lord's warm hospitality and lavish gifts had, in turn, constrained Sorgun to stay on longer at the Zhon residence and to become Asger's tutor in order to reciprocate a small measure of his host's kindness.

All seemed to go well until, one day quite unexpectedly, Lui Durek, a distant relative, visited them.  At the informal reception feast when Lui was introduced to Sorgun the visitor was taken aback at once with an undeniable shock.  Quickly masking it he extended his felicitations and offered a polite conversation.  At the first opportunity, however, he had discreetly pulled Lord Wutenzar aside and whispered something grievous into his ear, throwing a furtive glance over the host's shoulder at Sorgun Dufo, who was engaged in intense conversation with another guest.

"Are you absolutely certain of this?’ the Lord had demanded crossly in a whisper.

"Absolutely, undeniably so.", Lui responded, smiling sardonically.  "In all the years you have known me, have I ever led you astray, my Lord?"


02- LUI DUREK


Lui looked directly into Lord Wutenzar’s eyes, his face dark, his jaw set firm.  "Now you must act on this at once, your Lordship.  The culprit must be apprehended and brought to justice.  Imagine his gall, taking advantage of your kind, generous nature like that!"  Then, noting Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon 's frown, Lui scrambled to eradicate the damage, "Please forgive my presumption, my Lord.  I did not mean to, it was not my intention to...” he said contritely then, oddly enough, became tongue-tied.  In his exasperation in searching for the appropriate word his face contorted, appearing so absurd, so comical that Lord Wutenzar had been forced to constrain his amused laughter.

His stern expression thus erased, Lord Wutenzar nodded with a dismissive gesture, as if to say, don’t worry, no offense is taken.  I know you meant well.  You were overzealous in your conscientious efforts, as usual.  Meanwhile the Lord's keen senses had alerted him to how, even at this distance, the exchange had been ardently, though discreetly, observed by Sorgun and he'd noted Sorgun's subsequent fleeting, stiff grin.

 

"You don't agree?” the family friend Hekin had asked just then loudly, shaking his head in astonishment, obviously misinterpreting Sorgun's momentary distraction.  Then, after looking about the room, Hekin affixed his eyes on Sorgun and abashedly apologized, his eyebrows raised in serious inquiry.

Subsequently to all seeming appearances Sorgun, with typical elegance, had immediately smoothed over the matter and proceeded to elaborate his opinion on the controversy under discussion.  As he reached out his hand to have his wine cup filled, however, he had again casually tilted his head and glanced sideways at Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  For a brief, awkward moment their eyes met.

Acting as if nothing had happened, the Lord smiled stiffly and looked away, feigning being lost in abstract thought.  Admittedly, Lui was renowned for his sharp memory, meticulous handling of details, keen observation skills and for his deductive reasoning.  That is what had made him a good censor.  Hmm, Lord Lord Wutenzar remained indecisive, nonetheless.  What perturbed him the most was that, up until that time, he had taken pride in his ability to accurately discern a man's character.  Never had he erred on this point; never had he been so completely duped.  Yet the presented facts…” No; regardless of all the indisputable, incriminating evidence, this case warrants further investigation,” he turned his stone gaze to a crow perched on a tree outside.

Lending a casual ear to Lui's continued urgings, Lord Wutenzar heaved a dejected sigh; then slowly rising from his seat, he motioned Lui to follow him to his study.  The ensuing conversation behind these closed doors had left Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon, after a time, pale and highly agitated.

 Peeking in, Asger had observed in astonishment the color gradually draining   from his father's grim face and how, after pacing to and for with hands clasped behind his back, his father had suddenly halted and slumped, listless and resigned, into his plush chair.

 Lui, meanwhile, looking every inch, a beast on the prowl, had turned his face away in Asger's direction, hiding his feral grin of satisfaction.

Just then Asger's attention was drawn back to his father; for at that same instant Lord Wutenzar's gaze, riveted onto the painting on the far wall, became suffused with immeasurable fury.  Asger knew the scene well: a harmonious family gathering and banquet on the edge of the river Yawjun.  His teacher Sorgun had given him that picture not too long ago.  His curiosity now piqued, Asger strained his ears still more, but all he could catch was a reference to Sorgun, to a mockery and something about a crime of, ’adultery’, a vague word, the meaning of which he had not yet fully comprehended.  Added to his concern was his father's changed attitude, his reserved, cold indifference to Sorgun Dufo from then on (that time onward).  But this was something he could not openly inquire about, as it was, even the merest mention of the word “adultery” had instigated raised eyebrows, disapproving looks and frowns from his old nanny, mother and maiden aunt.

The mystery had eventually been resolved when one moonlit night, because sleep had averted Asger, feeling particularly restless, he had slunk out of his bed and after divesting his bed clothes, quietly put on some outer garments. Careful not to wake up any of the servants he’d then went outside and begun aimlessly strolling in the vast gardens. Veering this way and that, he had finally halted his ambling to gaze distractedly at the moon's rippling silver rays charting a course over the emerald surface of the man-made pond, as a lugubrious symphony of insects serenaded his ears. 

Soon after he had tired of this distraction and, with his hot blood craving adventure, bypassed the Jadatek pavilion. Veering behind a hill, he had delved into the forbidden sector of thick grove of ancient pines whose branches blotted out the starlit night entirely.

 Groping his way across this canopy of darkness he'd skirted another pond, crossed the stone bridge and headed straight for the peach groves, drawn by the exquisite scent wafting from the blossoms.  Advancing at a more leisurely pace, he'd enjoyed the light breeze fanning his hair and the soft pink blossoms tenderly caressing his face until his eye suddenly caught a dim light streaming from the far side.

Craning   his neck and inclining   his head, he'd pinpointed the location, his father's old studio, abandoned and hardly ever used since the new one had been built. 

Who or what could it be there at this ungodly hour?  Asger had hoped it would be a ghost or robber, a promise of a thrill to rejuvenate this monotonous night.  However, no thief could breach the heavy security.  Shaking his head dejectedly he'd told himself, in all probability and in view of the recently implemented restrictions on the servant's favorite pastime, gambling, it could be but only one thing. Yes, decidedly, some of the servants must have chosen this isolated spot for their illicit activities.  Asger had never understood their fascination over such a benign, innocuous game.

 Is it worth investigating? Should I bother or not? He’d lingered at the spot indecisively for a moment or two as he drew a circle on the ground with his right foot.  Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Who knows, it may well prove interesting. He simply shrugged, then sauntered towards the light.

When he'd gotten within hearing range of the building his ears were suddenly burned by his father's stern, icy tone as Lord Wutenzar confronted the tutor Sorgun Dufo.  Without thinking twice, Asger, in fear, ducked for cover. But this was too good to miss.  Steadying his heart, wildly thumping with curiosity and excitement, he'd then stealthily approached the open window to eavesdrop.

"I'm greatly indebted to you, my Lord, for the kindness you've shown both me and my son Kundrick.” Sorgun finally said after a prolonged silence.

"Are you mocking me?"  Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon took a step forward, glowering, barely able to contain his rage.

Asger had never seen his father this angry.  Inwardly he quaked out of concern for his tutor Sorgun.

"Please, my Lord."  Sorgun, mustering self-restraint, indicated a seat for the Lord, then, with permission, he sat down across from him. Sorgun cleared his throat then in a somber and most sincere tone he promptly resumed his say, "You have every right, my Lord, to despise me for what you perceive to be my deception, my concealing the truth, but please believe me, it was done with the best of intentions."

Sorgun disregarded Lord Wutenzar's disdainful grunt, "I did not wish to involve yourself or your family in what would most certainly be a messy, lengthy litigation, and I certainly could not make you an accessory to my so-called crime.  That has been the chief reason why I have withheld my unfortunate past from you as long as I did.  But this grievous, totally erroneous account given by Lui Durek...”  Sorgun held out his hand to stay the Lord's angry rebuke, "Please, I wish no disrespect to the gentleman himself, for in all probability he is relaying exactly the slander that has been circulated, and that has, no doubt also been confirmed by your investigators, as it being on the public record.”

Lord Wutenzar’s stone face did not waver (falter); his eyes filled with hurt, he morosely (dourly) looked away.


03-LORD WUTENZAR THUXUR MARROG ZHON


"You needn’t be concerned, my Lord, no one has breached your security," Sorgun rushed to reassure Lord Wutenzar, "it's only to be expected.  I would have acted the same had I been in your place.  This erroneous account of Lui Durek's has nevertheless obliged me to attempt to clarify the situation and, if nothing else, endeavor to set the record straight.”

“I owe your Lordship that much.  In absence of proof, however, I must beg your Lordship's indulgence until..."  He abruptly stopped short, seeing how, at this point, Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon was fidgeting in his seat, clearly displeased with the scholar's evasions.

Stop wasting my time! Lord Zhon had nearly snapped, but being fair-minded and wanting to give Sorgun an equitable chance, he had instead sat back, constraining   his displeasure and fixing his stern gaze on Sorgun, he then indicated for the other to continue (resume his say).

Sorgun was a proud man and did not take too kindly to being held under such doubting scrutiny.  He considered taking his leave in a huff, why should he bear such humiliation; however, he hesitated, mindful of the Lord's past kindness. Inwardly he struggled hence, to curtail his fury and, to forgive this debasing hurt.   His Lordship at least deserves an explanation.  It is quite natural for him to be concerned, for hasn't he in the last while entrusted his most precious son's education to me, (an accused) a suspected criminal?

Lord Wutenzar, meanwhile, noting the tutor's indignation, his inner turmoil as he struggled with certain defiance, anger, indecisiveness and the whole range of other, unreadable emotions on his face, regretted his manner and, softening   his gaze, gave Sorgun an encouraging smile. 

"Please do go on, sir.  As you can see, you have my undivided attention."

Sorgun, after momentary consideration, nodded thoughtfully and began, "To the best of my ability I will spare any embellishment and confide in you the true account of my past circumstances and my reasons for taking this precarious, unenviable path.  After which I will, without the least resistance, surrender my fate to your good judgment." His resolute stare earned the Lord's approving nod.

So that was at the root of my teacher’s (Sorgun's) indecisiveness, Asger, now shamefaced, had at once realized.  And of course, this also accounts for his earlier reluctance and apprehension! And I thought it might be …. Hmmm.  All along he had been considering making this determination, as well as this request, of my father.

"I would have long ago surrendered to the authorities, come what may, my own fate being of no consequence,” Sorgun exhaled a deep, dejected breath and looked away thoughtfully, "but you see, my concern over my son's welfare had prohibited me from taking the path of least resistance."  His pain filled eyes reverted onto Lord Wutenzar.  "After the ultimate betrayal, whom could I trust?"  He shook his head dismally.



"Foolishly I'd expected, or rather hoped, that the matter in due course would resolve itself and the true facts be disclosed.  Now I see I've been gravely mistaken for, far from being cleared, I've been wrongly slandered and already convicted without even the benefit of a just trial."

What Asger next heard had filled his heart with inexplicable feelings and had awakened him to the otherwise unknown, harsh realities of life. 

He'd learned how Sorgun Dufo had come from a long line of aristocrats who ranked high in Royal favor and had been endowed with a sizable fiefdom.  After his grandfather's untimely end, Sorgun's father, Kerek Dufo, being the elder son, inherited the title of Squire and the full responsibilities of the position.

 As his only offspring Sorgun knew that much to his own regret, eventually that restrictive life would be his as well. As it were, being educated extensively and grilled and drilled daily, Sorgun had grown up to become a worthy sophist literati and able politician.

 On top of this, he had acquired a natural talent for the financial aspects of every kind of business on the estate.  But his true interests lay elsewhere. 

Determined as he was to have his fill of life before being restricted in obligatory duties, he had, despite the family's discouragement, devoted much of his free time to furthering his skill in the martial arts. 

Excelling in swordsmanship, he would, as soon as he was of consenting age, often disappear on lengthy excursions in search of hair-raising experiences and excitement.

 Gradually his father Kerek Dufo eased off on the punishments, seeing they were of little use as a deterrent, and had allowed Sorgun to have his way, for the time being at least.


05 KEREK DUFO


Sorgun had suspected this having been partially due to his paternal uncle Minakos' convincing arguments on his behalf and so had remained most grateful for his intervention for the longest while. 

Minakos had been the one who had shown the most understanding and who had discreetly encouraged Sorgun to pursue his interests.  The bitterness in Sorgun's voice as he told of his uncle rather perplexed Asger at the time, but the answer was not far off.

After Sorgun was married, much to his parent's disappointment, he had ensued (kept on) with his eccentricities and not even the mourning period required for his deceased mother had deterred him from this practice.

 Upon his sudden (abrupt) return from one such adventure one night, however, he had unfortunately caught his sanctimonious father Kerek Dufo and his wife, Lady Linnsar, in a loving embrace during their secret rendezvous in the back garden.




 In his rage Sorgun had drawn his sword to behead them both but, resisting, had only slightly wounded his father with the flat of the blade.  Turning away, deaf to the curses and threats heaped upon him by Kerek (his father) and the pitiful pleadings of his faithless wife Lady Linnsar, he'd stormed out of there.

 By Sorgun’s uttered admission, all feeling had died in him then, except for the need to safeguard his infant son Kundrick.  Heading straight for Kundrick's room he'd snatched the baby from its warm crib and dashed outside into the just then abrupt (precipitous) rainstorm, in his mad state of mind, quite oblivious to the pelting rain, never to return.

 Forsaking all family, even his great love of swordsmanship, he'd hurled his precious sword far into the currents of the Yawjun River and from then on had wandered aimlessly, much like a vagabond, over the back trails of the vast countryside.

Eventually his son's survival had necessitated his return to the literary field once more and, being exceptionally talented, he'd carved out a meager living by tutoring the children of minor gentry and rich merchants from time to time.  He'd never lingered too long in one place for fear of being found out.

Sorgun vehemently swore on his grandfather's tomb that he had not taken their lives that night.  Their demise had come to his attention much later.

 "In all likelihood,” Sorgun speculated with an icy grimace, "my repentant father, Esquire Kerek, in his shame had finished the job for me.  It was the incompetence and corruption of the authorities that later on led to this erroneous conclusion and, the issuing of warrants for my arrest."

"If you are truly innocent, sir, and I don't doubt that you are you should have nothing to fear.” Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon said after a lengthy pause.  "I am sorry to hear that you have lost all faith in our judiciary process.  Regrettably, in many parts of the country, bad elements have taken root and infiltrated the process to undermine the probity of our courts, making mockery of our time-honored laws.  But, with persistence and an adequate outlay (dispensing) of funds, justice may still be had even there.”

His genuinely concerned gaze held Sorgun’s for a time then he added:

"Despite your success thus far in avoiding capture, you have still inadvertently injured the one thing you sought most to protect.  Don't you realize that, by your evasive actions, you have deprived your innocent son of his birthright and condemned him to a lifetime of hardship and misery?  I advise you therefore, for his sake if nothing else, to lay your trust once more in the judiciary system and surrender yourself to the authorities without further ado.  You may leave your son in my good care and relieve your mind of any undue anxiety.  I give you my solemn promise that I will do everything within my power, leave no stone unturned, to uncover the truth and extricate you from this wrongful indictment.  Wouldn't that be preferable to always being on the run, apprehensively looking over your shoulder, faced with an uncertain future?"

 Then, rising, he affectionately tapped Sorgun's shoulder and said, "Think this over carefully.  You need not reply just yet, but I expect an answer no later than tomorrow’s sunset."

Up until that time Asger had been intimidated by his father's stern persona, seeing him as an unbending, highly disciplined individual, strict in his adherence to convention, brilliant, articulate yet intolerant of weakness, a powerful being who put everyone at their unease and one whose presence always commanded respectful attention.  In short, he'd viewed his father more as a demigod than as a mortal man, a heavenly force he'd always striven to win the approval of. 

This unassuming, sincere manner, this compassionate side of his father had never been revealed to Asger for the sake of discipline, and so his ready championship of the unfortunate scholar had misted up Asger's eyes, and he'd found it hard to resist the urge to rush in and embrace him.

As it was, his father would have never approved of such an open display of affection and would have scolded him for eavesdropping on top of it.  Meanwhile Asger had noted how Sorgun had also been visibly touched by the concern and generosity (kindness) Lord Wutenzar had shown him.

 

After pondering briefly, Sorgun, with lowered head, nodded his reply, his voice choked with emotion, "There is no need to wait.  I am, and always will be, most grateful (and beholden) to your Lordship for this consideration."

 He had then risen from his seat, straightened out his garments, and with all due humility, citing Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon as his benefactor, had respectfully bowed low to express his gratitude.

 He was about to fall to his knees when Asger's father rushed to stop him and helped him rise.  Saying that such acts were uncalled-for, he'd proposed they both go outside for a stroll to get a bit of fresh air.

Frightened lest he be found out, Asger had shrunk into the shadows on all fours and then taken to his heels.  Stealthily beating a hasty retreat, he'd made his way back to his own room without incident.

 In his excitement he'd not bothered to change and had quickly climbed under the covers but, try as he might, sleep averted him.  He stayed up the rest of the night, relieving in his mind all that had transpired, all that he'd done, heard and seen.

Just before dawn he'd eventually drifted into an exhausted sleep with a contented smile on his lips.  He was confident that his father, with his resourcefulness, would soon deliver Sorgun, now his favorite, most respected tutor, from these terrible difficulties.

 

(END OF SECTION 10)