LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 9

 Nevetsecnuac, having decided to meet Zaur halfway then, more clearly proceeded to solicit (request) Zaur Stugr's help, "If it would not be too much of an imposition (trouble) Minister Stugr, perhaps you could entrust it to the proper authorities so that, in keeping with my promise to Yakkasar, it may be returned to the pit in question.  I would be most appreciative if you would inform me also of the further developments, especially ones leading to resolving this rather intriguing (fascinating) mystery."

Expressing moderate curiosity, Zaur Stugr graciously accepted the task of handling this trivial matter at his earliest convenience. 

01 ZAUR STUGR JP 12

"And perhaps there may be other historical artifacts that would be of importance, warranting excavation at the site." he smiled mischievously. Then as if in an afterthought, Zaur gravely added, "Of course this province is riddled with many such graves and pits of varying sizes, containing skeletons, corpses of indicted dissidents, cadaver of convicts and traitors, whom all of course, richly deserved their ill fate.”

“In any case best to be prudent, with this investigation and in enlisting help. Then there is the requirement for a permit, which I must attain, from the works department. But I may need more data…”   He abruptly looked up at Fradel.

After a seeming hesitancy and purposeful pause, proclaiming that he needed this in case the authorities questioned him on it, Zaur urged Fradel Rurik Korvald to jog his memory about the specifics of the topography or any other identifying landmarks in the vicinity of the pass which may assist in quicker resolve or at least, an educated guess as to its location.

Fradel agreed to this, with a lowered head, pretended to be lost in deep thought for a time, presumably jogging his memory.

 Zaur (with a puckered brow) grimacing, studied Fradel for a moment; then with an affable tone, introduced a suggestion. "This may help; from the details you've offered already, I've deduced that it could be Kneco, Cyprecox, or Yeruz Pass."

Nevetsecnuac pretending to have just then recollected some pertinent facts, cried out, " Yes, that's it, the very one. I remember now.  It was the Cyprecox Pass that Yakkasar was headed for.  Though he did refer to Kneco Pass, it was at a different time and in an entirely unrelated context."

"Now you're quite certain about this?" Zaur studied Fradel with concealed anxiety.

"Quite certain," Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) reaffirmed then, pretending that he'd remembered more of what Yakkasar had told him, readily volunteered (furnished) more specifics (details) regarding the location, much to Zaur's satisfaction.

"Well, this night's conversation has been quite dynamic and rather fruitful (productive).  Thank you for presenting me with this most intriguing opportunity; I'll do all that I can to resolve this mystery for you." Zaur Stugr promised earnestly, quickly dismissing Fradel’s uttered, profuse gratitude.

Smiling affably, he then begged Fradel's indulgence and patience, cautioning the scholar not to get his hopes up too high, for the truth once uncovered, might not be as enriching or colorful as supposed (or imagined).

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) politely yawned to express his fatigue, and then quickly proposed (suggested) that they should retire for the night.

Finding this most agreeable, Zaur signaled for the servant in attendance, to have the repast be cleared soon as they left; after which he solicitously (ushered) escorted Fradel to his sleeping quarters, before retiring himself to his own suite.

                                                                                               ~

Short time later, when all were tucked and happily sleeping under their warm quilts, Zaur Stugr quietly rose from his bed and going over, retrieved a small flagon (flask) he kept in the second drawer of the night table. Removing the seal, he gulped (ingested), enough of the special tonic, which quickly (in a short span) deleted the ill effects of excessive drinking and restored one’s full faculties.  Zaur next, taking special care not to wake any of his personal servants, washed his face, swiftly changed his clothes and quietly snuck outside.

02- ZAUR STUGR

Though Nevetsecnuac's speculation had come exceedingly close to the truth, he could not have imagined the depth of gravity that this key had held for Zaur Stugr.

Zaur, very much sobered now by his pumping adrenaline, held out a small oil lamp before him to illuminate the way, as he hastily proceeded with determined steps through a maze of hallways and garden paths.  Eventually he arrived at the old study on the far side of the East wing.

The wing had been sealed off ever since Kokone Iver, the previous owner's beloved third concubine committed suicide after being sexually assaulted (violated, raped) by one of, Rujune Iver’s esteemed house guests.  The strange gruesome apparition who had persistently haunted (appeared in) the hallways after her tragic demise, was attributed to her restless, unavenged spirit.

The perpetrator guest rapist, called Lord Nirekel Konuer, had at the time been far too powerful and too well connected to the higher officials; and so, despite Rujune Iver's efforts to bring him to justice, he had escaped punishment.

The subsequent grave rift that had existed as consequence, between Rujune Iver and Lord Nirekel Konuer, had outlasted the culprit Nirekel’s eventual horrific demise from a mysterious, sudden ailment.

 The hostility between the Konuer and Iver Clans had in due course, fostered some violent repercussions; especially since, the rumors concerning Rujune’s visits to a famous shaman in the workers' quarters, and this having something to do with Lord Nirekel’s sudden, macabre death, had persisted for many a year. And despite the absence of any solid evidence, the incidences of savage retributions, the bloodshed continued (to rock the Capital) for quite some length of time to eventually die down. 

But not before Rujune Iver, having been persecuted unmercifully by Lord Nirekel Konuer's ardent cliques, had eventually lost the favor he had at court and, having been subsequently charged with treason, suffered the extreme death penalty.  Unfortunately, this had meant the extinction of his entire clan, including his wife and concubines as well as, all the family's property (estate) being confiscated by the state.  Yet, because of the purported haunting of the East wing, this otherwise exceptional mansion in the heart of the Capital had remained unsold and untenanted (vacant).

Zaur was only a minor official but one with promising future at that time and had just been transferred to a more lucrative posting in the Capital.  Not being superstitious in the least and assured that no senior official wanted the property, he was quick to seize this opportunity and procure Rujune Iver’s magnificent mansion for an affordable price.  Seeing that it was to his advantage to continue, the purported belief in the haunting Zaur gave outward credence to the stories and sealed off the East wing, declaring it off limits to everyone and all his staff.

03-GHOST Kokone Iver  IN THE EAST WING

Then covertly engaging trusted workmen, he had a secret tunnel constructed directly into the unused wing from a niche in the outer wall.  Zaur Stugr’s planning and vigilance had paid off and, unknown to his family and staff, he henceforth had conducted all clandestine matters on these premises.

For over five years now, with none the wiser to the comings and goings, he had been able to establish a vast underground web of alliance and intrigue that had escaped all detection.  This was no small feat for the Sovereign possessed an elite and very effective Secret Police (as well as, the ruthless Black Band Guard Regiment) in addition to the rival spy networks established by Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and Minister of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries (also affiliated with The Black Molochs).

Halting before a tall, green door Minister Zaur Stugr thumbed the keys at his belt and, finding the right one, inhaled deeply to steady him-self before he turned it in the lock.  Lifting the latch, he opened the door softly.  Only the rush of air leaving the room disturbed the quiet of the night.  Stepping inside, his eyes briefly perused the rare antiquities that adorned the shelves, the countless valuable scrolls that were housed in specially constructed wall units that took up two walls all on their own, the plush sofa off in the corner and the desk with its neat pile of documents awaiting his decisions.  Things were exactly as he had left them.  Reassured, he turned and bolted the door behind him. He walked over the desk and opening the top drawer took out the certain (booby trapped) letter his agent Kaelan had delivered to him a week before Fradel Rurik Korvald’s arrival.

He’d been so burdened (engaged) playing host to illustrious scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald in addition to his other Ministerial duties that he had deferred this matter till later time. In truth he was still undecided about what to do about the letter (whom his agent had retrieved from the dead body of the doomed courier Disaidun Agripe otherwise known as Miss Jepipi), which had been the source of Lord Shouzi Yozdek’s blackmail for about two years by The Black Molochs.

Zaur could not help smiling, knowing how infuriated Egil Viggoaries must have been, when word reached him that the letter had been lost to him.  How many must have suffered consequently.

“Unfortunately, the plan had not gone as well as he’d anticipated; for Zunrogo Tugo was still alive and well… Hmm, the cur must have found out about the switch and kept it quiet. “

“Oh well you can’t win them all.”  Zaur shrugged.

“As for the letter…” Zaur shook his head. “It can wait.”  Unfortunately, at present he was too pressed for time to deal with this, when other more pressing matters (issues) and tasks demanded his attention first; and so, he quickly put it back in the top drawer and closed it.

Advancing with deliberate strides, he veered around the long, ornate desk until he reached a specific wall unit on the far wall.

 Holding up the oil lamp, he pulled out one specific scroll and placed it on the desk.  Then, putting his hand into the slot from which he had retrieved the document, he applied a firm pressure with his index finger to a groove in the lower left corner of the exposed wall.  Immediately the entire wall slid noiselessly aside to expose a hidden room behind.

Air tinged with musk rushed out at once to assail his nostrils as pitch darkness greeted his eyes.  Crinkling up his nose, Zaur shook his head.  He had not been in this room for some time and due to obvious neglect, everything was shrouded in an inch deep snow of dust that now whirled about, stirred by the air from the outer study.

“First thing tomorrow I must have Zyerne clean this place up.  This disorder is inexcusable.”

For now, the space was in immediate need of ventilation.  He looked around in the lamplight at the mass of volumes packed up all the walls until he spied on one small window high up next to the ceiling, hidden from the outside by a set of elaborate eaves.

 Striding over, he positioned a sturdy chair beneath the aperture and pried the shutter open just a crack, just enough to let in the fresh air he needed to relieve his lungs of this (ever-present) invasive constriction.  He winced as he reflected how this hidden room had been designed by the long dead original architect more like a vault of an elaborate tomb than a study.  Its purpose had been obvious but, incredibly, Rujune Iver’s demise had come too fast for him to have made use of its contents to his own advantage.  Fortunately for Zaur, these carefully catalogued documents, containing amassed evidence against the most prominent (noble, patrician) aristocratic families and the vast reserve of valuables and cash secreted in this room, had escaped detection by the court's investigators when the property had been confiscated (impounded) by the state.  With his analytical mind, keen sense, and deductive reasoning, Zaur Stugr had been the only one to, shortly after acquiring the property; discover this invaluable chamber's existence.

Stepping down, he walked back to the entrance.  From there he took the familiar measured paces, first straight ahead, then to the left, and then to the right then again left.

About five years ago, he had further discovered several vaults, each laden with cache (stockpiles, hoards) of gold, silver, and jewels, beneath the ingeniously designed, geometric marble- flooring. 

Depending on the combination of serious of consecutive (successive) steps and the pressure put on by one’s own weight, the specific squire floor tile would rise and then move aside to reveal an opening with the descending stairs leading to that specific vault’s contents. 

Right now, however, he was only after one of his own constructions.

Squatting, he placed the lamp off to one side, loosened the specific floor tile with his bare hands, lifted it and dug out a slightly tarnished metal box from its hiding place.  Meticulously, he brushed the dust from it then, with trembling hands, positioned his newly acquired bejeweled key over the keyhole on the box's side.

Suddenly his heart was seized with apprehension.  “What if this key's construction was merely a bizarre coincidence?  What if it did not match this box at all?” 

In the past he had attempted everything he could think of to open this unyielding encasement but without the least bit of success.  The unusual metal, the design and construction of the box had resisted any attempt at tampering with it. 

He exhaled, “Well, there's only one way to find out.”

With certain determination he placed the key into the hole, and, to his great elation, it turned, moving long unused tumblers inside the locking mechanism.  His heart pounded wildly.  At long last it was now within his means to uncover the secret long buried within! 

But then he hesitated, and his expression gradually hardened to mirror his troubled thoughts.

“What if now, after all this time…,” dejectedly he shook his head. 

“Anyhow, what good would it do?”  In his mind's eye he could see the accusing finger stubbornly pointed at him and at the same time a strong sense of foreboding gripped his heart.

“No!  Right or wrong, I could not have confided in Sanzo.  Not after the disclaimer.”

Eventually he picked up the lamp and, rising to his feet once more with the box in his other hand, walked over and sat down (sunk his body) on the plush sofa by the desk.  Absently he stared at the box for some time, affectionately caressing it, letting his fingers trace out the curved indentations which mimicked exactly the design of the key.  He noted how, in one corner they were scaled exactly to the size of the key. “Odd,” he mused, “it’s as if there's a purpose to it.”

 Struck by a sudden intuition, he took the key from the lock and placed it sideways on against the corner, noting how it fit snugly into the carved design.  Inside the box more tumblers moved.

“So, there was a disarming mechanism as well.”  Zaur Stugr was glad he had not rushed to open the obvious booby-trapped box.

A sad, aggrieved (wounded, pained, hurt) expression just then took hold of his features.

“It’s been so long, so very long!”

(END OF SECTION 9) 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 37

The passenger official, Ceroz Agripe had tried his utmost to keep his beloved wife alive, but her injuries being so grave, she did not live long.  After her (hastily improvised) impromptu funeral where her corpse also ended up in the river, the official Ceroz Agripe had remained in deep mourning and mostly sequestered in his cabin. He was naturally devastated and from then on incessantly mourned her loss. In his bereavement he ceased all communication and activity, as well, frequently refused any intake of sustenance (provisions, nourishment).

 

01- TORMENTED CEROS AGRIPE

He did not appear idle, rather, seemed to be contemplating something dire; meanwhile, he’d remained always in bad temper and often lashed out at the crew members, or whoever called on him. Ceroz’s angst (dread) and mounting heartache, meanwhile, had raised no alarms, as there were ample other more pertinent concerns and great deal still to do on aboard.

The infant’s death was attributed to crib-death, a common occurrence at that time, which often befell (occurred), one in every four babies. 

The official Luvet, despite Zunrogo's assurances, had also chosen most of the time to remain isolated (quarantined) in his cabin.  He had never had any dealings with Ceroz Agripe, yet at his wife Disaidun Agripe’s funeral, his blatant (unconcealed) hostility towards him, his intense (penetrating), fiery (blazing) antagonistic gaze (eyes), had both mystified and greatly alarmed official Luvet.  He’d subtly questioned Captain Zunrogo’s Lieutenant Tzan about this matter, but Lieutenant’s response had been less than satisfactory; moreover, his not so subtle, cryptic words had thence (thereafter) hunted Luvet’s peace. He could not shake the feeling that he’d somewhat been set up (accused, blamed for something he didn’t do) and ominously, a cruel, ignominious fate had awaited him. But how could he escape this impending catastrophe when he was constrained as passenger in a fair size vessel (craft, boat) temporarily stymied (because of necessary repairs) in the center of the vast expansive river, with the shoreline barely visible. He was not a competent swimmer and there was no small dinghy (dory, rowboat) on this cursed ship.  

 

Last few nights, burdened with deep concerns, Luvet had hardly touched his supper but drunk heavily to ease his mounting trepidation (fear, anxiety). Pacing back and forth across the room, he stayed up most of the evenings contemplating a plausible plan to ward off this impending disaster.  He could not shake the terrible foreboding in the crux of his being, that if not now, in matter of days, even if he succeeded in evading (escaping) the grave, lurking peril (danger, hazard, risk), his life would still be forfeited.

 

02- LUVET

                                                                 Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald, meanwhile, from the very start, had refused to be sequestered in his cabin; not wishing to remain idle, he’d instead, had done his bit in expediting the mending of the ship.

Under Tizan's competent supervision, in no time at all the vessel had been made sail-worthy; hence, the fourth day at dawn, taking full advantage of the sudden rise of a north wind, they’d charted a course over the wide river that would bring them at a swift pace into the port city of Hanbrak, the river port immediately before the Capital city of Channing.

Once they had docked, Zunrogo and company were to precede post haste from then on, on horseback, to the Capital.

                                                                                  ~

 

Midway to reaching the port city of Hanbrak, no one other than Zunrogo, had anticipated the sudden and unexpected tragic turn of events.

In the dead of night, as all the other tired souls, including Fradel Rurik Korvald clutched their pillows in deep slumber; Ceroz Agripe suddenly snapping out of one of his catatonic (inert, withdrawn) states, had sat bolt upright and guardedly looked about him.

With wild gleam in his black pupils, he quietly rose from his bed and went over to pick up his sleeping baby. But the crib was empty, his precious Tait was not there, he’d gone missing!

Suddenly his memory served him a faint recollection, how in his anguished state, before the battle on board had started, trying to quieten the bawling (wailing) infant, he had pressed his precious boy to his chest and, tragically, smothered (suffocated) him.

“But when did they take him away? Where was Tait now?”

His mind once more becoming unhinged, his memory fogged, and he felt suddenly confused. He looked down at the empty crib, “There you are,” this time he clearly saw his precious boy Tait fast asleep.

03- BABY IN CRIB

Smiling, he gingerly picked up the small pillow, which he’d often used to protect the baby from the edge, his arms swaddling (enveloping) it, he held the precious cargo close to his chest.  Suddenly the baby was awakened and began to squeal.

“There, don’t cry Tait… Mommy will be here soon.” He gently rocked the bundle in his arms till the baby was quiet.

Bending his head, he gently kissed Tait’s forehead. His beautiful son seemed to be smiling at him. “Oh, you are such a good boy” He blew him another string of kisses.

Again, confusion set in, but just as quickly it went away; his mind was much clearer now, suddenly he knew what he must do.  Going over, he edged out the door of the cabin and locked it behind him.

 

Once in the dimly lit corridor, hugging the walls, he inaudibly crept two doors down to Luvet's cabin and quietly slipped inside.  Three paces into the room he stopped.  With the mad fire burning in his eyes, he quickly surveyed the immediate surroundings: his eyes momentarily rested on the table which was cluttered with dishes, food left uneaten, but there was the  discarded  wine stained cup, the empty wine jar tipped on its side; then he observed the stack of documents on the night table and the flickering oil lamp teetering dangerously over the edge; finally,  his gaze came to rest on the sleeping official.

Ceroz Agripe’s pulse again raced as the shiver of fuming rage and seething contempt rippled through him.

 

Gingerly, as if wary of waking his infant son from sleep, Ceroz put the precious bundle down in the plush, oversize chair in corner and, reaching into his left pocket, retrieved a long, red, silk cord.

 This crimson silk cord had been his former wife's favorite fashion accessory.  He took a shuddering breath as his gaze rested on it, recalling the multitude of purposes she had put it to.  Now it would serve a new purpose.

 He caressed it lovingly, touching it to his cheek, then to his pallid lips.  The lingering perfume it held misted his eyes with the memories it evoked, and he moaned softly in pain and dropped his head.

Abruptly anew the ire erupted in his chest, and he clenched the cord taut with indignation and bile until his knuckles whitened and cracked.

Just then Luvet stirred in his deep slumber, uttered some incomprehensible phrase, and then turned onto his side.  Ceroz was rooted to the spot, holding his breath as he considered his recourse should be the cursed official awake now and catch on to his presence in the room! 

Then, however, a lugubrious, loud snoring resounded in the air.

“Vile cur; how dare you sleep without a care…  Death is too good for the likes of you!”

 A wave of sickness, disgust and anger washed over Ceroz Agripe as he gritted his teeth.

“Your flesh should be ripped (torn) into minute pieces and fed to the wild dogs!  I swear, even if it is the last thing I do, I will gauge-out your eyes and stuff them up to …. where they belong.  Your manhood and your black heart I shall trample underfoot.  I will make certain that you will never be born again in any condition to defile a good, virtuous woman!”  He spat; his anger barely contained as he shivered once more.

His body was rocked with an all-consuming-wrath, and he clenched his fists to steady his steps as he determinedly approached Luvet.

 He stopped at hairsbreadth away from the edge of the bed.  His nostrils dilated as he glowered at the official; before him lay an ordinary official with plain nose, ordinary beard and mustache and typical lips, nothing special at all.  In the dim light, Ceroz noted how his reddish hair was scraggly (disheveled) and few strands hung loose at the sides.  There was nothing remarkable about him, nothing that would betray to an onlooker in the least his vile, contemptible nature.  There was no trace of inhumanity which Ceroz could detect in that oblong, rather impassive (blank) face, yet this mangy dog Luvet was assuredly the lowest of the lowest.

Surging contempt consumed Ceroz as he felt the bile rise in him once more.

05- CEROS AGRIPE -GONE MAD

In the next instant the cord looped around Luvet's neck and tightened with such unusual force that it bit two inches into his neck.  The convulsions of the struggling body were kept under control only by the application of Ceroz's total weight upon the dying man.

When Luvet finally expired, Ceroz drew from his other pocket the knife his wife had given him as her instrument of revenge.

 In the next few minutes, he set off to work, fulfilling his promises of defacement to the letter.  When he was done, he discarded the knife onto the table and stepped back.

As if now reconciled with the dead official, Ceroz smiled and calmly walked over to the corner to pick up the baby once more.  Going above deck, he moved slowly and serenely, looking as if he was merely taking the infant out for some air.

 Before any of the watch could realize his intention and stop him, he simply stepped over the edge of the boat and disappeared instantly in the foam of the wake.

 

“Man overboard…Man overboard!” In dead of night, the warning sounded.

 

But the vessel, as ordered, kept on (with its speed) going.  They could not have rescued him anyhow, even if they were any such order.  Driven by the strong northern wind, the vessel was moving way too fast to stop or try turning back, without grave risk to all.

The gruesome sight of Luvet's mutilated corpse was discovered soon after.  Without exception, every member of this rugged crew was chilled to the bone.  Enough incrimination evidence was left behind to leave no question as to the murderer's identity.

The motive was framed variously in everyone's mind but most chalked it up to simple insanity induced by the tragic loss of his beloved wife Disaidun Agripe, his infant boy Tait and the recent events, such as the terror and violence of the battle.

 It was generally determined that, being weak in nature already, Official Ceroz Agripe had simply cracked under pressure.  A few, however, speculated that the mutilation stemmed from the settling of an old grudge (score).  Some guessed that it was a crime of passion, and that the wife must have had an illicit affair with the bureaucrat Luvet.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) suspected that Zunrogo was somehow at the root of it all and despised him even more for it.  However, he had nothing solid on which to base his suspicions (allegations), therefore he buried his resentment and concentrated on the serious concerns that lay ahead of him once they reached the Capital.

06- TZAN JP

 Tzan, by piecing together the snippets of information and what he’d astutely observed, in the end discerned the true probable cause.   Tizan absently nodded as he wrapped up the pieces of the official's corpse; then with a sinister grin, he covertly eyed Zunrogo, telling himself to never ever for an instant let his guard down, to never underestimate (take too lightly) the captain’s capacity for ruthlessness, or misjudge in future Zunrogo’s devious powers of manipulation.

                                                                                        ~

 

               (END OF SECTION 37- END OF BOOK 8 – ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL)

 

(LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC EPIC STORY CONTINUES IN BOOK 9- THE CAPITAL CHANNING)

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 31

Had Disaidun Agripe known what really was at stake, how many conditions were to be added to the end of his statement, she would have (fled as if her life depended on it) run and kept on running.  Imagining only the best, however, she again thanked him profusely and promised, "Oh, you'll see how appreciative I can be."

01-DISAIDUN AGRIPE JP 23

Then she remembered the other condition and asked. "What was the second thing you wished me to do?"

"Oh, nothing particularly hard.” he smiled.  "You know the situation we face."

 He waited to hear her answer, then gave an entirely different account as to the reasons behind the anticipated, armed assault.

There were just two grains of truth in this fiction (story) he fed her: one, the foe in the pursuing vessel was fast gaining on them and two, the expected engagement would be at noon of the following day as soon as the fog had lifted.

 "Your part in all of this will be is, to guard the entrance to the cabins on the lower decks, when the assault starts.  You will be, of course, positioned behind a strong, impenetrable barricade and though it is highly doubtful that anyone could break through, in the likelihood that they do, it will be your responsibility to intercept (block) them."

"It is then my task to protect the Scholar Norek," she strove to impress Zunrogo but was met with a blank stare.

Disaidun Agripe obviously had no inkling of the scholar's importance or his identity.  "Why do you ask?"  He was curious to find out how she arrived at her notion.

Her answer was expectedly, tritely dull.  "Oh, I’d just overheard Captain Doku whispering something about him to another shipmate.  The rest of their conversation, beyond his name, was incomprehensible, I’m afraid.  I have also noticed how vigilant you and that big fellow Tizan are in guarding him.  I don't wish to pry (meddle), but is Norek's life in danger from these pursuers?"  She still pushed, even though she knew better.

 

"Let’s just say that his work is highly controversial and offensive to some crude individuals, whose ill-breeding overhaul (outstrip) their aesthetic sense." Zunrogo brushed her question away, with a wave of his hand.

Disaidun Agripe did not buy any of this but wisely desisted pursuing the matter. “There will be ample time in future, to understand his reasons for this deception.” She falsely believed.

"Of course, you must be armed.  Are you adept (capable) in handling swords, and also, the crossbow?  Perhaps you may prefer a machete or an axe at close quarters."

"I have been trained in all of them." she boasted.  "I will use whatever you think is best."

"I think the crossbow will be more ideal in stopping those, capable enough to breach the barricade.  You can also utilize a knife, if it’s warranted, in such close quarters."

"And what of the other entrance?" she asked, trying to impress him.

When Zunrogo looked at her sharply she beamed, sure she had one up on him, "The secret passage, behind the bookcase, in Captain's cabin?"

But Zunrogo robbed her of any further satisfaction when he laughed knowingly and nodded, "You are a resourceful girl, aren't you?"

 Meeting his stern gaze, she abashed, cast her eyes down. As Disaidun Agripe indulged herself in the luxury of self-reproach, incensed Zunrogo, made a mental note to have Tizan take care of that crucial detail that had escaped them both.

"You need not worry about that secret passage.  It has long been secured well and proper."  He lied, after his prolonged scrutiny of her.

Her cheeks had flushed crimson (cherry red) under his burning stare but, even though all her senses were alerting her, she chose to believe otherwise.

 

Zunrogo could now afford to be magnanimous.

"Good.", he finally broke his silence. His eyes were unmistakably soft and affectionate, at odds with his cold, forced smile. 

"Then I would say for now, our business is concluded."  Nevertheless, he remained reluctant to dismiss her outright.

His mixed signals made her shift uneasily into her seat.  Disaidun did not wish to go either; furthermore, she hoped that he would ask her to stay.  Her worst fear was that he would reject her.

She watched him rising to his feet, and after fetching the jug on the night table, (which was set aside for him to indulge in just before sleep,) breaking the seal then pouring himself a cupful. It gladdened her heart, when he took the trouble to pour on for her as well, and then quietly (in silence) placed one of the cups on the table in front of her.

His burrowing (investigating) eyes were fixed on her, as they drank their alcoholic brew (beverage, draft) in long prolonged sips, his expression all the while, frustratingly unreadable.

By now Disaidun Agripe was on the brink of letting her passion explode.

Zunrogo looking away, smiled knowingly, and after another sip, simply put his cup down and slightly leaned forward.

"Perhaps we can now talk of more pleasant things." He said softly as his hand reaching forward, his fingers lightly tapped (pat) the top of her hand; Zunrogo’s implied suggestion, stole her breath away.

02- ZUNROGO TUGO JP 5

 Disaidun did not pull her hand away, nor did she reject him when he next took her hand into his and this time, gently squeezed it; instead, she shut her eyes and let the thrilling, warm sensation envelop her (swathe her). She told herself that she had longed for this moment from the instant she had laid eyes on him, that she was a willing participant in whatever he desired and that, whole-heartedly, she also desired him.

 

                                                                                ~

 

When the fervent, immoral interlude was over, Disaidun Agripe beamed in delight, truly believing Zunrogo's affections had come straight from his heart.  She may have suspected otherwise had he tried to steal the letter from her bodice and, had he done so, she was not altogether certain she could have found the strength to refuse him.  Fortunately, he had made no such attempt.

 

Tizan, when he was now escorting her back to her cabin, masking his umbrage, had remained surprisingly civil in his treatment of her. 

 

Of course earlier while she’d slept peacefully in Captain’s bed, Tizan summoned to Zunrogo’s presence, in the next room were summarily briefed about the slight changes in their plan: that furthermore, Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi), had now been temporarily recruited to (abridge, fill-in) secure the gap in their defenses created by Frastos and Briac's absences and, even though her contribution was negligible (insignificant) at best, it was nonetheless necessary.

Tizan had also been (commanded) ordered to say nothing, to run no interference, but to keep her under scrutiny (a watch) as she waved her net of deception over her husband and set the wheels of (destiny) destruction in motion.

 

                                                                                 ~

 

Once the secret entrance from the deceased Captain Doku's quarters had been effectively barricaded from within, Zunrogo quickly climbed above deck to assess the work Tizan had completed. 

He smiled in satisfaction, seeing that all the traps had been properly set in the key positions according to his exact specifications and that the fortifications on deck were all solidly reinforced to encompass the required parameters of stress.

That afternoon, both Zunrogo and Tizan, furthermore, had jointly concluded the last leg of the preparations by erecting below decks the barricade that would be Disaidun Agripe’s (Miss Jepipi's) duty to defend, leaving only one passage that would be sealed later from the inside. 

                                                                                          ~

 

Now that all the necessary preparations were concluded (finished, done) and the vessel had been made completely battle-ready, Zunrogo next went to the mast and, as Doku (had he been alive,) would have done at this point, hoisted the red flag with the single white star enclosed within an equilateral diamond.  Their pursuers would interpret this, as the “all clear” signal that they have been expecting.

As they watched the pennant hanging limp in the mist, Zunrogo took a few moments to update (apprise) Tizan of another revision to his prior plan; that, he intended on apprehending the culprit Lance Diostin alive, but gave no explanation, whatsoever, for the reason for this last-minute amendment.

 The outcome of the battle would determine whether-or-not, Zunrogo could risk taking his Lieutenant Tizan into total confidence; it was still too early for him to expose his actual intentions, should Tizan prove unworthy or, was somehow captured.

03- -TZAN JP

Tizan, of course, sensing that there was more at stake here than met the eye but, at the same time, knowing it would be fruitless to press Zunrogo for answers, remained reticent (taciturn, quiet). Tizan was confident that, even if in future Zunrogo didn’t oblige him with an apt answer, he could still, with his resourcefulness, resolve this mystery.

 

(END OF SECTION 31)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 30

Zunrogo had not been bluffing, when he had earlier subtly hinted to Disaidun Agripe that he knew far more than he was letting on.  Few weeks prior, he had in fact, from the painstakingly gleaned information, pieced it all together to determine just who had written the letter and, more importantly, the contents of it.

01- SHOUZI YOZDEK 1 JP

Lod Shouzi Yozdek, only two years Sovereign Zakhertan’s senior, as children the two had been (inseparable) thick as thieves.  In fact, up till puberty, the mischievous duo, which shared similar characteristics and interests, had once embarked on many hair-raising adventures to nosh (nourish) their innate, perverse appetite for carnage. But for unknown reason or reasons, their close kinship had abruptly and drastically altered (changed) when the two were in their mid-teens; aside from the estrangement, it also transformed their once close bond to that of stealthy, adversarial one in nature.  

At any rate, well before His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek had solidified his rule, his second Cousin Lord Shouzi Yozdek, long since discontented with Zkhertan, had once colluded with Kujoge Yozdek to overthrow Zakhertan in an uprising.  In a moment's madness, forgoing his usual precautions, Lord Shouzi had sent a confidential letter to Kujoge, with certain incriminating words and some details of intended rebellion, with his trusted steward.  Unfortunately, the letter was intercepted, and the mutilated corpse of the steward was, after a frighteningly long time, sent back to Lord Shouzi with a single letter "R" carved into the corpse's chest.

Plotting a rebellion had always been regarded, by Zakhertan, as the most grievous of crimes; hence, even members of the Royal family were not exempted (spared) from the (horrendous) extremely abominable punishments.  Of course, the plot had been abandoned and all plans scrapped or, as Zunrogo suspected, temporarily postponed.  Since then, however, His Lordship Shouzi Yozdek had been living under the fearful dread of his entire family’s (his precious sons, as well as his wife’s family’s, this going back ten generations,) utter annihilation (extermination); meanwhile, his vast resources (funds, assets) were being perpetually (continuously) drained with exacting extortions (blackmails, shakedowns) from an indomitable secret foe (source).

Last two years Lod Shouzi had paid the steadily increasing ransom amount without fail, but of late, more was required of His Lordship, some of it highly dicey. In time the extortionists’ demands became even more unsavory, further contemptible.  The vile deeds which His Lordship Shouzi Yozdek was forced to commit, forever hunted the Lord’s conscience, and made him quake in dread. He spent many terror-struck days and evenings fearing his ignominious end, or worse, of his own flesh and blood beloved’s sons’ abduction and reprehensible demises.

Wishing to put an end to this intolerable (nightmarish) situation, His Lordship had naturally enlisted the help of his longtime friend, the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and they had jointly employed every covert means, sparing no effort or expense, to find the letter and wipe out (bring an end to) the would-be culprits. But despite years of effort, the perpetrators had ingeniously eluded detection, till now.

02-ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 23

Zunrogo mentally patted himself on the shoulder for his latest, crucial string of successes, and then turned his attention back to the woman.

Notwithstanding (despite) his seeming disinterest in the letter, his subsequent manipulative questions and the specific reference to the pouch and its seal, had presently (currently) beguiled Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi) into suspecting that he already had the letter in his safekeeping.

“But how could he have stolen it without me knowing it? He did not lay-a-hand-on-me. And certainly, I’ve never not once, left it out of my sight. Earlier, roughed up by that beastly guard Tzan, could he have …? “

 Disaidun Agripe’s heart palpitated wildly just then and, as consequence (result) of the seed of doubt that he had so firmly planted in her mind, she absentmindedly placed her hand over the hidden pocket near her bosom.

“No, thank goodness, it's still there!”  Nevertheless, she knew she had been careless, way foolish, to even suspect that it could have been nabbed.

Disaidun threw Zunrogo a contemptuous look. “Well played…You think you're so smart, don't you?  All right, so you got me to betray its whereabouts, but you'll get it when Hell freezes over! “

“Furthermore, I have you know, I’m not afraid of death.” She then inwardly lied. “I’ll destroy it if you even so much as try.  Just try it!”  She sized up the distance to the cabin's porthole. Could she be fast enough?

Zunrogo had been thoroughly entertained by the web of conflicting emotions that had passed over her face, surmising the array of her thoughts.  “How delightful she was when issuing those silent threats.  How utterly delightful! “

“But now, it was time to put an end to this fun and plunk her in her proper place.”  Smiling mischievously, he asked, "How long has it been?"

"How long?"  Disaidun Agripe raised her eyebrows.

"Don't play coy with me.  How long has it been since you've had a good one?" he grinned.

This time she caught his meaning.  Her eyes hardened.  Glaring at him she snarled, "Since you seem to know everything, you tell me."

"Oh, why articulate such righteous anger?  You were proud once to be so well sought after in high circles.  You should be flattered that your reputation precedes you, even after all this time."

"That's right," she frowned. "That was all in the past.  I've buried it (former life) long ago."

 She’d denounced it hotly, indignantly then, lowering her head, ejected sadly, "It's so cruel of you to dredge up the past.  It all happened then, before I knew any better, before I had any sense."

"Before you were under eighteen years of age, I believe," Zunrogo cut her short, unfazed.

Truncating her subsequent, near comical retort and words of self- pity, "And don’t forget, just four months before your enlistment into Secret Society of KokuTizanrez…. Only eighteen, eh?  Still, even in that short time you had built yourself up quite a reputation, didn’t you?  Learned a few good tricks too, I'll bet."  He asked forcefully.

"But tell me, how was Zohuj Kez?  How does one worm one's way into the black heart of a eunuch when he lacks the proper equipment to satisfy a woman's desires?  You must indeed be exceptional."

The question had achieved its desired effect and Disaidun Agripe blushed profusely.  “Incredible,” Zunrogo shook his head in disbelief, “after all that she's experienced, succumbed, all she’s been through, the vixen can still blush!”

"How dare you!  What gives you the right to talk to me that way?" She cried out indignantly, trying to hold back her tears but she'd taken this insult to heart and, in-order-to shield herself from his piercing gaze, looked away as two defiant strings of saltwater pearls rolled down her cheeks.  Covertly, she wiped them away as she kept up the angry response, determined not to afford Zunrogo the satisfaction.

He threw his head back and laughed coldly, viciously with sure delight.

“Now she'll be ready.  Oh, but look how frantically she tries to purge guilt and shame from her heart.  How desperately she strives to maintain her dignity and prove me wrong. Oh, poor little vermin (mice), I almost feel sorry for you!”

In the ensuing moments, however, he sustained his heartless prodding, poked fun, and unreservedly enjoyed observing (watching) the predicted change taking root in her, the whole time each struggle ensnaring her deeper and deeper into his tightly woven net.

Disaidun Agripe realized too late that she was hooked, well and proper.

Earlier on she had discerned but foolishly ignored, her intuit warning, that her worst nightmare was about to come true.  Her feelings vacillated to each extreme, according to what he said.  Each tone of his voice seemed to manipulate her responses independently of her will.  Despite her valiant efforts to deny the feelings raging inside her, his insinuations, his rude, suggestive remarks both irritated and enticed her.

Satisfied with the end-result, Zunrogo eased off a bit, though by no means was he through toying with his prey.

“Now let’s see just how ambitious you are.”

 The time was now ripe to tempt her with some purpose, some hope.  Would she take the bait?

 "But tell me, “He changed the subject, "hasn't a capable girl like you ever aspired to some greater goals in life?"

"As if I have a choice," she huffed; the words had poured out of her unbidden.

Checking her discomfiture, she stared back at him questioningly.

03- DISADUN AGRIPE JP 222

“No sense appealing to his sympathy. He has no heart, no understanding.”

 What she had heard about him was all true; he was a cruel and manipulative brute.

“Oh, what's the use?” She hung her head.

She (for a time) thoughtfully affixed her gaze onto the floorboards of the cabin, to hide her deep resentment for him; then, bit the corner of her lip to get a grip and, again, looked askance at him.

“Why did you insist on dredging up the past, if not to humiliate me?  What was the point of all those mean, nasty questions? What am I supposed to believe when, you are stern (harsh, demanding, hardhearted) one instance then turns unexpectedly judicious (fair) and humane (caring, gentle, kindly, charitable) the next…Oh, my brain is so befuddled with all these mixed messages?  What could you possibly want from me besides that, same old, oh …?”  

Suddenly she recalled what he had said earlier on that he may have certain use for her in future.

 “Is he, by any chance, thinking of recruiting me?  Is this just a test?”  Narrowing her eyes, she overtly scrutinized him. “Why else? “

Suddenly Disaidun Agripe bounced back out from her deep depression.  “Then I'll show him a thing or two and just what I'm made of; but first, I’ll get him back for putting me through all that grueling.” she inwardly swore.

“I’ll show him that I have what it takes; then I’ll refuse him flatly.”   Her confidence fully restored; she had the spunk to plan apt retribution (payback).

Zunrogo grimaced as he surmised this turn in her thoughts. It was precisely what he had hoped to make her feel at this point.

“Nearly half the work is done; good!”  He sat back and braced himself for her anticipated questions.

"Why have you sent for, me?" Disaidun shifted uneasily in her seat, her soul unknowingly bending to his whim

"Two reasons." Zunrogo answered gravely after a deliberate, painful pause.  "You did say they meant nothing to you, but how do you feel about that old official, Luvet?"  He looked at her meaningfully.  He had had him checked out.  He was clean.  He was not a spy.  Still, he strove to be certain, to leave no loose ends behind.

"The same," Disaidun Agripe shrugged coldly.  Then, understanding fully what he expected of her, she asked, "You mean all three?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No.", she shook her head spontaneously, studied Zunrogo for a moment then nodded her cold commitment.  "Consider it done."

"It must look perfectly natural, you understand."

"No problem."  Her confidence mounting, already she had conceived the plan in her mind; it had been played out many times on countless opera stages.  "No problem at all. You'll see, even you will be impressed.”

"Good."  Zunrogo was pleased.

“What?  Not curious about the details, not in the least?”  Disaidun thought she was the mastermind of this brilliant plan, not realizing how subtly, methodically she’d been manipulated to contribute to this specific plot. As she was most eager to earn his praise, she now readily volunteered the specifics all in one burst. The simplicity and efficiency of her ideas did please him, but all he let show was his slight amusement.

"You said that there were two things.  What's the other?"  She, with racing heart, eagerly asked.

"Not so fast." Zunrogo chuckled at her keenness.  "Don't you want to know why?"

"Not particularly." Disaidun Agripe lied.  In truth, she was dying to know the reason.

"Good, then I’ll save my breath.”  He paused to watch her desperate attempt to remain calm, to control the emotions erupting within her.  He was sorely disappointed in her.

“You'll have to do better than that.  You're not so hard after all, and you can be read like a book.  One wonders how you've managed to survive this long unless you've fortuitously dealt only with morons!”

He's still testing me; she raised her hurt filled eyes up to him.  “Am I measuring up?”

"Perhaps,” His icy, spontaneous answer startled her.

 But then, “why be so surprised?  So, he’s discerning my thoughts. I made no conscious effort to conceal them.” She inwardly lied to herself; then, looking at him squarely in the eye, she asked: "You would really consider recruiting me?"

“No…It depends."

 The vague answer exhilarated her, nevertheless.  It was more than she’d hoped for.  A hint of gratitude and joy registered in her eyes as Disaidun looked at him needing, searching for some sort of confirmation.  Then a sudden darkness cast its shadow over her dreams. 

She lowered her eyes and shook her head in deep despair, "No, it can never be.  I'm under contract."  Disaidun looked up at him tragically, "They'll kill me before they let me go.”

“I…  I know too much."  Even this low-level assignment she was on had been sanctioned by their leader, of that, she was sure.

“Silly girl; even if I were to consider this in earnest it would not be their opposition I would be concerned with.”

Instead, he fed her further hope, "They are small fish.  They would not dare go against my wishes."

"Oh, I'd be ever so grateful."  Disaidun’s heart palpitated wildly.

Looking up at him with certain elation, as if he was some demigod, she utilized her winning feminine charms, wanting, needing further affirmation; but again, his unexpected stern composure froze her, dead on her tracks.  She abjectly (grimly) lowered her head and kept her silence.

"Your gratitude is premature.” He ejected coldly at this point, suppressing his laughter.

 "You have not yet proven your suitability, and there is still the High Council's decision yet to be made.  However, I may be able to sway their decision if I could tell them how you...” he deliberately left the rest hanging in air.

 

(END OF SECTION 30)