12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 3

At this point Sovereign Zakhertan was startled awake by the howls of human voices; covered in sweat and gasping for breath he at once sprang to a sitting position in bed. His stern gaze now hinged on the fast asleep Sejon, who lay peacefully curled up beside him with that infuriating complacent broad smile plastered on her rosy lips, Zakhertan contemptuously scoffed and looked away.

01- LADY  SEJON  ASLEEP  (91) b

On second thought, as he had brushed aside his dark thoughts, Zakhertan’s eyesight had unpredictably just then clouded over, and his head same time began to swim. Subsequently, a strange purplish miasma filled the room, and when it parted, it revealed the floating, deceased Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, surrounded by the murdered Princes, their Royal robes all drenched in blood. All the Princes pointing at him with accusatory glare, they called out with silent screams, to be avenged and demanded an immediate, ignominious end to Zakhertan's life.

Outside the chamber violent gusts of wind shook the walls, threatening their imminent collapse. Zakhertan quickly getting a grip on his senses however, jumped up from the bed and, grabbing the hilt of his State Sword, blade now unsheathed, he began stabbing and hacking at the apparitions, only to strike the empty air.

"What is it, my Liege?"  Sejon having just then awakened, her gentle, sweet voice recalled Zakhertan back to reason (sense, sanity).

 "Are you having another terrible nightmare My Lord?" Her subsequent hypocritical angst and persistent queries however, grated on Zakhertan’s nerves and so, his icy fierce glare just then pivoted on her, froze the very life’s blood circulating in her veins. She winced, her tongue stilled, she quickly retreated (withdrew) back into the shadows to conceal her involuntary quaking.

At his point, catching his reflection in the large bronze mirror and realizing his almost humorous state, Zakhertan Yozdek grimaced then, with a huff of derision turned his back to her.

02-  ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (74)

 ~

 

Subsequently, Zakhertan mounted on Night Thunder and riding like the wind, at no time at all, he was back at the North Palace. Though he did not give much credence to superstition, the incredible consistency of prince Herleif’s predictions (the sudden manifestation of a new star which outshone that of present regimes, plus the prophesized resurgence of the old Dynasty after the cataclysmic upheaval and subjugation of Wenjenkun) in conjunction with Zakhertan’s most recent nightmare were such that, they could not be so perfunctorily dismissed.  Both had forecasted the actualization of Zakhertan’s long time innate dread:

That one day a serious peril to his existence would arise from a loyalist assassin or forces colluding with his eternal bane and ardent nemesis Lord Asger Marrog Zhon, who had not only to date successfully eluded (evaded) capture, but had also in all probability, shielded and fostered the last carrier of royal blood, the grandson of Late Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.  Therefore, Zakhertan had good reason to feel ill at ease, for Prince Nevetsecnuac Valamir would be somewhere in his twenties by now; and, if not him, the prince was old enough to have (fathered) spawned other fair-haired (blond) princelings, one of whom could be the prophesized star that would outshine his in the constellation.

That aside, Fradel Rurik Korvald’s strange appearance in his dream, regardless, had at present marked the passive/ aggressive Scholar for certain ignominious death… Zakhertan, whose life these last few months had been sedentary (indolent, lethargic), he’d been languorous far too long, akin a voracious (insatiable) feline on a hunt for a perspective prey (a mouse, a bird) now, was very much elated (ecstatic) at the chance of hunting, though firstly toying with, this allusive yet noteworthy scholar (the game, target).

Hmm… Zakhertan grimaced (smirked) viciously, A secret summons from the PM, few days prior to the original date, should suffice.

Subsequently, Zakhertan’s thoughts moved to far more irksome concern, namely Qarzten Caimund. Now, why had Qarzten appeared as a traitor in his dream? This had puzzled Zakhertan for, despite his inner foreboding (apprehension), he was (absolutely) certain of the Senior Grand Secretaries’ loyalty.

Would perchance there be an unforeseen future act or event that would cause Qarzten to shift (vary, change) his allegiance to him (Zakhertan)?

  No! after a spell, Zakhertan doggedly (resolutely) shook his head to purge the gnawing bud of suspicion and the consequent dangerous prescience (forethought) from his mind, for as far back as he could remember, he’d always held the firm belief that all men, despite the circumstances or the meddling of the mighty Gods in Heaven, could still chart, sway or alter their own fate; and consequently, should be held directly responsible for that which befell them. 

03- QARZTEN CAMUND (8)jD jp

 Mindful of the recent aberrant events Zakhertan nevertheless considered that it might be more prudent if he recalled Qarzten to the Capital immediately, where he could be (monitored) kept under closer scrutiny. As for the other urgent matter, the (almost) impossible task Qarzten was to oversee after resolving the situation in Bacau and Subain… well perhaps the task could be deferred to another, and Zakhertan had just the person in mind. As it were, Zakhertan could not entirely root out all suspicion from his heart; he believed that the more improbable a thing, the more likely it would happen (transpire); especially with one as resourceful (a vassal) as Qarzten, who would be the perfect candidate to betray him. But then, on second thought, Zakhertan Yozdek quickly (abruptly) rescinded that resolve.

No, it must not be put off; moreover, it was imperative that the precarious situation was discreetly and promptly brought under control; and who better than Qarzten Caimund to manage (handle) that arduous task. Admittedly, Qarzten was still the most competent one for the job; besides which, his hasty recall to the Capital might be the very catalyst that would accelerate or fulfill the dream prophesy; or would it be his (Zakhertan’s) inaction itself that might be the harbinger of evil?

To his further annoyance, Zakhertan Yozdek had just then realized how much despite all, he still depended on Qarzten Caimund’s rare abilities; neither could he deny the strange affinity and near admiration he felt for the Senior Grand Secretary. Zakhertan nevertheless, after a brief consideration settled on sending a covert elite group to monitor Qarzten’s activities and, upon receipt of their report, then take the appropriate action to deal with Qarzten Caimund.

Zakhertan’s thoughts turning next to Lenny Sukzor, a wry grin briefly manifested on his lips; Lenny had proven thus far to be both competent and incorruptible, quite the same way as Qarzten Caimund once had. Despite this, Lenny’ future advancement still depended on his competence at handling this most difficult tasks ahead.

Bearing in mind just then, that in few minutes time he would have to conduct the morning audience, Zakhertan picked up his pace and entering his private quarters, had a brief wash, had a change of clothing, and quickly breakfasted, before heading out again.

 

                                                                              ~

 

Egil Viggoaries quite unperturbed by the previous night’s minor setback of Nijel Pinng’s sudden demise, had typically enjoyed himself this late afternoon at an impromptu shindig.  Much earlier on, a highly acclaimed soothsayer had been abducted, of which there was no scarcity in the Capital since the disappearance of the Mighty Dwengzur, to cast a prediction for them. The mystic warrior Kekos, who happened to be an old veteran priest, a sole survivor, of one of the long ago eradicated (abolished, eliminated) religions, though he seemed ageless, had survived these many years by being adaptable and therefore, now served as an innocuous priest to one of the lesser known, though sanctioned religions in Channing.  

04- SEER KEKOS  -23JP

When the mystic warrior Kekos, cast the oracle bones and then looked over to see their outcome, he had grown ashen of face, akin that of the previous mystic Morke, who had the misfortune of not too long ago casting similar oracle bones at another one of Egil Viggoaries’s bashes. Though quite unsurpassed in the accuracy of his divinations (prophesies) Morke had made the singular mistake of being forthright about the dire predictions and this had consequently, soured (tainted) their night’s enjoyment. Outraged Egil Viggoaries (being quite intolerant of any such disparaging thought/belief to foster and take root during one of his notorious letting-off-steam bashes) had hence, condemned the poor unfortunate soothsayer that very night to a most lingering and cruel end. Of course, the subsequent day Morke’s demise had been routinely covered up and made to look quite accidental on the official records. With a similar fate facing Kekos at present, how could he find the courage to speak of the ominous revelations of the oracle bones before him? Hence concealing at once his dread, his left foot with one agile shove, had misaligned (garbled, jumbled) the two specific bones so as to alter the outcome and make it more ambiguous.

Egil Viggoaries who had in fact some clear understanding of the oracle bones readings and an even quicker eye than the talented seer, had observed Keko’s desperate attempt (an unforgivable breach) to deceive him, only he chose not to let on and later still, before the evening’s entertainment got fully underway, had allowed the soothsayer warrior Kakos to return in safety to his humble abode in the shrine. 

At first Kekos could not believe in his good fortune, that he had been spared the Dark Eunuch's wrath; as the night progressed and sleep averted him however, with that night’s events still running through his mind, the more he thought about those (seemingly) insignificant gestures and innuendos, the more imminent became his portended doom. When the bones had been cast and just before his foot had misaligned them, the vivid recollection of that unmistakable fleeting glimmer of recognition in Viggoaries’s eyes revealing that he had understood far more than he let on, still wildly palpitated Kekos’s heart. And after Kekos had been granted leave and he bowed to the Dark Eunuch in farewell, the latter’s unforgettable, ephemeral cold calculating glance, even now sent spasms of shiver through Keko’s spine.

Kekos presently breaking into cold sweat and dismally gazing at the dark ceiling, he inhaled a forlorn, elongated breath and then let out a dejected, mournful sigh. There was no need to cast another prediction! Unable to erase that rancorous stare from his mind, he knew despite his present good health, he would not last another day. He had heard of the Egil Viggoaries’s abhorrent ways and knowing what awaited him the next day, he desired more than anything to rob the malevolent Dark Eunuch of his perverse pleasure. Why should he wait for the odious end, which would most certainly befall him. He had considered for a spell of fleeing, but where would he run to, he had no family, no other affiliates of the old order he could seek shelter with. All had been vanquished long ago; he was the sole survivor of an old religious order that no longer was.

05- KEKOS

Kekos walked over and gazed at his physical reflection a long while in the tall brass mirror mounted on the wall; by all accounts his bearing was still solid, muscular (burly, strong) but he knew it was all a sham, for he inwardly felt that he lacked his old resilient, invincible vitality, he was no longer the warrior priest of certain prowess, that he had once been…Years had been particularly cruel to him, gradually wearing down his strength and stamina. Suddenly Kekos, now seated at the edge of his bed, felt extremely tired of his prolong, lonely existence. It was time for him to join his ghost (specter) friends. Resigned to his ill fate therefore, two hours after midnight (well before pre-dawn) he walked over to his desk, then after lighting a ceresin lamp, quietly and routinely set all his affairs in order. After his prayers at the shrine, he then one last time climbed in under the warm quilt, closed his eyes, and then lay perfectly still, awaiting his end.

As his mind a powerful tool willed his demise, naturally in the small hours of the night, only an hour after he’d gone to bed, fever took him and he suddenly fell gravely ill; but the following morning at sunrise, his mysterious ailment could not be accurately diagnosed, and his condition steadily worsened despite any treatment he received. Finally, by mid morning his organs having failed him altogether, seer/ warrior Kekos was spared further torment and tragically passed away.

Egil Viggoaries was getting ready for the private late-morning audience with the Sovereign Zakhertan when the news of the soothsayer's demise reached his ears. Evil leer on his lips, he derisively chuckled: “Already I am so feared that a mere look is enough to kill a man. What need have I, of any assassins?”

A special dispatch marked urgent was delivered to Egil Viggoaries just then; recognizing the seal on it, he dismissed the guard who delivered it and sat down at his desk. After breaking the seal, he withdrew the contents from it and read it. The letter was from Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple. Finally, his ardent nemesis’s whereabouts had been found! A vicious, broad grin registered on Egil Viggoaries’s lips. He elatedly jumped up, most anxious now, to see Zakhertan Yozdek and to secure (gain) permission for an extended leave. He would personally manage this important matter and, the sooner he departed Channing the better!

                                                                                        

                                                                                    ~

(END OF SECTION 3) 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 11

But wait," Zhadol held up his hand, "let me give you another good example of Dwengzur’s powers.

“Yes, that night Dwengzur provided us with yet another demonstration, chiefly for Egil Viggoaries’s amusement.  A reluctant volunteer was chosen to sit before him, then Dwengzur, with a great, mysterious air, muttering incantations, place both thumbs on Lenny’s"

"Not the Under-Secretary Lenny Sukzor?" Yennic broke in, grabbing Zhadol's arm in excitement.  "Not that old sourpuss?"

Commander Zhadol jerked his arm free.  "Everyone over twenty-five is old to you." he scoffed disdainfully.  He was stalling, searching in silence with knitted brows for a way of retracting this damaging slip.

Yennic was not about to let it pass that easily and fixed his intense green eyes on Zhadol.  "Now don't change the subject.  It is him you're referring to, isn't it?"

01- COMMANDER ZHADOL AND YENNIC

Zhadol hemmed and hawed as his face twitched nervously but he soon saw the pointlessness of any denial.  Biting his lip, he cast down his eyes and gave the barest nod of affirmation.

"But this is astounding!" Yennic gloated maliciously, easing himself back.

 "What do you know?  To think that all this time, I, and everyone else were so completely duped.  To think that he’s…."

"Now, Yennic, I needn't warn you of the consequences." Zhadol ejected sternly, authoritatively glaring at Yennic.

For a fleeting moment there was such hardness, such blood-curdling coldness in Zhadol's pupils that Yennic, caught by surprise, a small shudder passed through him.  He dared not taunt the Commander any further and at once wiped off the leering smile from his face.

 "No, of course not," Yennic responded hastily then in all seriousness.  "I swear on the graves of my forefathers, I'll never breathe a word of this to anyone.  But please do go on.  Tell me about the demonstration."  He urged Zhadol on, trying his best to play down the incident but the Commander's silence was unnerving.

"Unless, of course, you'd rather talk of something else..."  His eyes looked past Zhadol with an effort and focused on the distant dark sky.

 "How brilliant the moon is tonight in the company of all those twinkling stars," he added thoughtfully, with a meaning, of course, entirely different.

His clumsy attempt to draw out his jealousy amused Zhadol. “How predictable you are…  How absurd.” In silence Zhadol stared at Yennic, who appeared to be lost in thought.  Still, his body, tensing like a bowstring, betrayed him.

 As Zhadol studied the Lieutenant a cynical smile brushed his lips then, nodding, he volunteered the information Yennic was thirsting to hear.

"Yes, Dwengzur placed his thumbs on Lenny’s forehead like so," he said, demonstrating the placement on Yennic.  "Then he uttered more incongruous, incomprehensible incantations.  Within seconds, Lenny’s eyes glazed over, and his head dropped.  Most interestingly, however, Dwengzur's hair had just then turned completely white then it reverted to its original fiery red color, and he straightened up to reveal his findings.  Dwengzur not only told of what motives lay in Lenny’s heart, but also of the desires and inhibitions that lurked in the dark recess of his unconscious mind.  Armed with this knowledge, Egil Viggoaries then ordered Dwengzur to bring Lenny around.  All the sorcerers had to do was simply mutter some words, blow once on Lenny 's face and Lenny revived instantly with no recollection whatever of what had happened.  He even asked Dwengzur, with some apprehension, when the demonstration would begin."

02- LENNY SUKZOR (1)JP

"That must have been a riot!" Yennic laughed venomously.  "I don't suppose you'll impart some of that dirt (on Lenny) to me?”  Yennic fished for details.  "No?  I thought as much."  Disappointed, he pursed his lips.

Zhadol suppressed his annoyance and continued, "When Egil Viggoaries confronted Lenny with the knowledge Dwengzur had gained, all of it proved quite accurate.  Extremely embarrassed, poor Lenny didn't know which way to turn.  He probably wished there was a rock somewhere that he could crawl under and die.  Egil Viggoaries, with his insatiable appetite for cruelty, played it to the limit, making Lenny squirm time and time again.  I don't have to tell you how he brutally toyed with Lenny and how he shamelessly enjoyed himself at the Under-Secretary's expense."

"I would have given anything to be there to see that upstart squirm like a stuck pig." Yennic voiced without reservation, his cold, unsympathetic reaction.  He had made no secret of his intense dislike of Lenny Sukzor ever since the Under-Secretary had publicly spurned and humiliated him.

Zhadol, on the other hand, had had no serious clashes with Lenny and, therefore, neither liked nor disliked the man.  However, he respected the Under-Secretary's strong character, his sense of justice and his frank, no-nonsense manner.

Yennic noting the strong disapproval in Zhadol's face, the threat implicit in his silence, quickly checked his tone and mumbled, "I don't suppose that Dwengzur got too many volunteers after that."

"No, he did not." Zhadol replied mechanically.  Something else was preying on his thoughts.

"Still, such tricks are very useful."  Yennic grimaced coldly as he stole a malevolent look at Zhadol.  "One could reap untold benefits and gain a serious advantage over one’s foes.  His Royal Highness was, no doubt, profoundly interested in this?"

"Precisely," Zhadol nodded distractedly, turned to look directly at Yennic and stiffened his posture.  "More importantly, Dwengzur can study the juxtaposition of the planets and constellations and predict future events.  Unfortunately, however, his predictions augured (portended) more trouble."  He shook his head, "We'll have to indefinitely postpone our trip to Yaguzer."

"But the arrangements have already been made!" Yennic's initial reaction was to protest vehemently.  "What kind of trouble?" he looked up to ask.  "Why can't we…"

"This is quite serious."  Zhadol gestured to freeze Yennic's query and explained, "Three days prior to our leaving Channing I’d acquired a disturbing piece of news from Egil Viggoaries."

"And you waited until now to tell me about it?" Yennic interrupted indignantly.

"I held off because", Zhadol looked away.

"Because you didn't trust me, is that it?" Yennic, fuming, finished the sentence.

"No, not at all," Zhadol countered morosely (petulantly).

03- COMANDER ZHADOL

 "I had to use extreme discretion, and this was the first available moment we have had that I could safely broach this subject with you.  You see, Dwengzur has read something vitally important in the stars and, through Egil Viggoaries’s influence, gained a rare, private audience with His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek.  At this point, I'm told, Dwengzur gained Sovereign Zakhertan’s confidence and informed him that there would be, yet another assassination attempt quite soon.  When pressed, he even predicted the exact timing of it."

"Are you certain of this? When is it?" Yennic gasped, stiffening despite himself.

"Quite certain,” Zhadol shrugged his shoulders, "As for when it’s supposed to transpire, that, I'm afraid, is privileged information.  No other, outside of His Royal Highness, his bodyguards, Dwengzur and Egil Viggoaries, have been informed, not even P.M.  Lamont Gudaren."

"So, His Royal Highness took the threat seriously, then.  I thought that he was inclined not to believe in soothsayers, that he barely tolerated them."  Yennic's provocative question risked angering Zhadol once more, but this was far too important info (data, material) for him to cower now.

“Have the Kozurs advanced the date?  Why haven't they informed me? Or had Zaur Stugr and the others been implicated by that cursed Dwengzur? Zhadol surely knows more than he’s willing to admit. But he’s really spooked. It’s so unlike him to be so tightlipped; but considering what’s at stake, I’ll just have to try harder that’s all.”   Yennic masked his concern with the air of disdain and skepticism, hoping to goad the commander to be more open with him.

"Dwengzur is different, perhaps the wisest one of all but, obviously, I've failed to convince you of that."  Zhadol's answer was mocking.  He was indeed angered by the other's seeming obstinacy, but then he softened, adding, "Besides, as I understand it, Dwengzur even staked his own life on the accuracy of the time he'd predicted for the assassination attempt."

"Please don't be cross with me.", Yennic used his boyish charm to disarm and appease Zhadol.  Pursing his lips together, he queried, "But if, as you say, Dwengzur cannot be killed, wouldn't his gamble be an empty show, a farce?"

"It seems that I've unintentionally misled you." Zhadol countered, smiling.  "Of course, he can be killed, but not by any conventional means.  Naturally his people keep this secret under close guard."

"Yet His Royal Highness obviously bears this knowledge?" Yennic interposed skeptically, narrowing his eyes.

"Don't forget, Yennic, His Highness was once a Field Marshall commanding our invincible armies in his glorious campaigns against Korion.  His forces penetrated the farthest corners of that state, like the wind itself."

“I know… I know rhetoric well.  Get on with it, man.”  Seemingly in agreement, Yennic impatiently nodded his head.

"During that great episode in our history," Zhadol continued in a more level tone, "His Highness must have had a brush with Dwengzur's kind, some outcast, perhaps, that had been hunted down."

Noting the puzzlement on Yennic's face Zhadol explained, "Apparently I've omitted telling you something else.  You see, when one of them breaks their stringent tribal laws, he or she is automatically cut down, condemned to be a non-entity without even the benefit of trial.  However, before the sentence of death is carried out the elders apparently grant the offender a head-start at fleeing to safety.  This, of course, is the illusion of mercy for, in all cases, the convicted one is always, quite without forgiveness, hunted down and disposed of without a trace.  It is another one of their unwritten laws, a fact of their life that no one gets to leave the tribe, willingly or unwillingly, alive.”

04- HUNTED DOWN AND KILLED

"Now, if I'm now permitted to speculate a little, one such fugitive must have fallen into His Highness' hands before their demise.  In all-probability Zakhertan Yozdek was, quite by chance, able to witness the method of execution and put the facts together.  Still later he must have elaborated on the tale while recounting his military exploits.  You know how Egil Viggoaries recollects even the most trivial of details, never forgetting anything no matter how long ago it was said."  Zhadol's eyes suddenly opened wide, "Come to think of it, that precise knowledge must be what binds Dwengzur in servitude to Egil Viggoaries and keeps him in check.  Considering his vagueness as to how he saved the sorcerer's life hmmm, but I'm straying from the point.”

Smiling, he sat back and inhaled deeply.  "Yes, Dwengzur delivered his warning to His Highness all right, but then he provided His Grace Zakhertan with an effective solution as well."

"You mean that at each instance, the assassin or assassins will now be timely intercepted and, the danger to His Royal Highness will forever be successfully averted?  Is that doable?"

“Why not, on the proviso (condition) the proper measures are implemented in time," Zhadol nodded.

"And, as I've been told, His Highness was greatly impressed and has already decided to adopt Dwengzur's plans (policies) to that effect.  Oh, and I ought to correct you on this; there is only one assassin in the prophecy, not the multitude you'd expect."

“A solitary one,” Yennic was intrigued.  Masking it, he speculated, "I suppose it was decided that only one can get through, infiltrate the security, undetected. “

“Not a bad idea, however he has to be quite an extraordinary being, considering the odds stacked up against him."

"Yes, I quite agree.  He has to be an extraordinary assassin, to say the least, to be planning a single-handed attempt on the life of His Royal Highness and, what's more, give cause for serious concern to Dwengzur and His Excellency."

Zhadol's uncanny words startled Yennic and placed him instantly on his guard.  “

How much did Zhadol suspect?  Was he toying with him, testing him? “But, after a brief scrutiny of the Commander, Yennic concluded, “No, he suspects nothing.”  And with that, his alarm dissipated in one breath.

"Zakhertan Yozdek, of course, is interested in capturing him alive."

Imagining the hellish tortures that awaited the unnamed assassin, Yennic dropped his head then shuddered involuntarily as he commiserated, "Yes, how I pity the poor wretch that will be walking into that trap."

The remark was innocuous enough but the reckless response, the unmistakable sympathy in Yennic's voice, took Zhadol by surprise.  He turned sharply and examined the Lieutenant.  “Did I hear him right?”

Yennic winced and swallowed hard.  Disregarding the Commander's questioning gaze, he grunted, "By the gods, another assassination attempt!  Won't they ever learn?"

Then, looking straight at Zhadol, he pointedly, defiantly asked, "Do you suppose it will end with his, and the other conspirator's capture?  No, that would be too easy.  The last attempt was made only eight years ago, and it was only recently that the witch hunt ended, and the strong measures were rescinded.  Now it will start all over again and we'll be cast into turmoil once more.  I wonder how many more will be made to suffer, justly or unjustly, this time to appease His Royal Highness' wrath?"

“Oops!  He'd gone a bit too far!”

Before Yennic could retract his last words or try to cover them up, Zhadol barked, "Hold your tongue!  Your words could be misconstrued as treason.  Take care with what you say and to whom you say it."  His face twitched anxiously as he looked nervously about.

 Yennic's face mirrored Zhadol's fear.

Convinced there was no one about, Zhadol reprimanded Yennic severely, "You're fortunate that I know your heart, but your reckless diatribes (tirades rantings) will one day land you in serious trouble, beyond anyone's help.  More influential men have fallen for saying less."

Yennic appreciated Zhadol's concern and told him so then, used other honeyed words to placate him.  Even so, it was some time before Zhadol was calm enough to return the conversation to the subject of Dwengzur.

"That may be," Nevetsecnuac heard Yennic, back to his old self again, stubbornly counter, "but I still fail to see how a mere scholar could threaten His Excellency Egil Viggoaries.  How can he be the cause of his serious downfall, or as Dwengzur so bluntly predicted it, the cause of His Excellency's disgraceful, premature death?"

Nevetsecnuac pricked up his ears upon hearing the word, scholar. 

“Are they referring to me, or rather to Fradel Rurik Korvald?  Tomorrow morning, I would have discarded these clothes and donned scholar's garments and, in doing so, I would have blindly walked into their trap.”  Nevetsecnuac knew that he could have easily bested them all, but not without cost. 

Because he would be acting contrary to Fradel Rurik Korvald's character, disguise or no disguise, if there were an engagement, he would be forced to kill them all.  These men were merely following orders and his sense of justice and aversion to murder prevailed on Nevetsecnuac to be merciful.

05- NEVETSECNUAC

"Even if we ignore all his power and influence," Yennic's argument took Nevetsecnuac's attention away from his private thoughts, "His Excellency Egil Viggoaries is famed throughout the land for his martial skills, second only to His Royal Highness in invincibility in combat.  He could never be caught off guard or be bested by anyone, let alone by an insipid scholar.  Don't you think that this prediction is a bit too fantastic to be taken seriously?  A scholar indeed!  Why, a single breath could knock a scholar over!"  Yennic curtly and gratingly laughed.

"No matter what you say, I cannot accept (swallow) this.  Furthermore, it makes no sense to me at all that a man of Dwengzur's abilities should be so compliant.  If he really wanted to, I doubt anyone could stop him, threat, or no threat.  Why then should he stick around and, worse still, remain in the limelight, given the circumstances."

“Why indeed.” Nevetsecnuac concurred.

"Unless, of course, he harbors a more sinister purpose; meanwhile, feigning being helpless, to gain some lethal advantage." Yennic snorted.

"Your point is well taken, Yennic." Zhadol concurred, stroking his beard.

"I confess that I, too, have experienced similar qualms.  Still, Egil Viggoaries is no fool.  You know how shrewd he is."

"That aside," Yennic impatiently drummed his fingers on his knee, "if Dwengzur is as good as his claim, how did he err in the prediction of the scholar's exact time of arrival here at Cyprecox Pass?  Wasn't tonight supposed to be the time?  Though we've remained vigilant in our watch, there's been no sign of him so far, nor do I expect there will be.  If he fails to show by dawn tomorrow, we should take our leave of this god-forsaken pass and return to the Capital."

"That would be disobeying direct orders, and you well know the penalty for that."   Zhadol shook his head.  "I'm afraid that we'll just have to stick it out for another two days at least, if not more."

"I object to following orders blindly."  Yennic fidgeted in his seat then looked up,

“What if he never shows up?  What if we've missed him already because he's taken an alternate route?”

“Are you quite certain that pompous scholar would choose this desolate dirt road over the more pleasurable and scenic river route, more akin to a scholar's tastes?  His Excellency is only interested in results.  Won't he be furious?"

"Orders are orders.  We are to stay put here regardless of the consequences or rewards; any action or inaction may foster." Zhadol spoke sternly, frowning.

"However, to put your mind more at ease, I recommended before our departure that Lance Diostin be posted on the river route.  He was dispatched the day before we were.  You see that angle has been covered as well."

“Lance Diostin?" Yennic nodded appreciatively.  "How many were dispatched with him?"

"I recommended five.  Does that meet with your approval?" Zhadol responded mockingly with a wry smile.  "So now you can stop worrying?"

Curtailing a curt response, Yennic grimaced and dropped his eyes then, after a momentary pause, meekly ejected, "How can I?"  A definite vulnerability lay under his tone.

"I've been rather apprehensive about this assignment from the start."  He bit his lower lip.  When Zhadol remained quiet, Yennic continued, "I'm filled with trepidation over the precarious predicament we've been placed in.  We're doing his Excellency's bidding, but what if this were ever to come to light?"  He shook his head dismally.

"I mean, by upholding one order, aren't we committing a still worse offense?  Undermining Prime Minister; Egil Viggoaries’s aim is one thing, but..."

"But do you wish to live forever, Yennic?" Zhadol chuckled then, meeting the Lieutenant's grim stare and noting his serious unease, he stopped teasing.

Speaking soothingly, he encouraged Yennic, "You needn't be so concerned, Yennic.  Egil Viggoaries knows what he's doing.  His Royal Highness doesn't really care whether Fradel Rurik Korvald complies with the summons or not.  Really, it’s only a whim with him and now, with this new threat on the horizon, the matter of Fradel Rurik Korvald's memorial poem is the farthest thing from Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek's mind.  Only Lamont Gudaren is anticipating the poet's arrival and, expecting serious opposition from Egil Viggoaries, has gone to his predictable lengths to ensure the scholar's safe delivery."

"A futile attempt for, as always, His Excellency Egil Viggoaries is one step ahead of him."  Yennic nodded appreciatively.

“So that explains the presence of this contingent.” Nevetsecnuac grimaced.  “They are expecting to do battle with the Prime Minister's men.  They must be planted all along the way.”

“Fortunately, I diverted from the usual routes and so escaped both this disaster and the assistance.”  Nevetsecnuac now even suspected that the alleged bandits that had attacked Fradel when they had met were in fact Egil Viggoaries's men.

“I wonder how he's been faring.”  Sudden worry momentarily creased (clouded) Nevetsecnuac's features.

“Oh, but he's in the care of Fiery Comet; he'll be all right.” Nevetsecnuac, smiling, quickly brushed aside this concern.

 

(END OF SECTION 11)                                                                                        ~