Showing posts with label spy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spy. Show all posts

Friday, 10 October 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 18

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 18

Soon as Tonng Yennik’s receding (diminishing) footsteps was heard going down the stairs, the door of Room Ten creaked open and the stranger, followed by his stout guard both, emerged at outside. After making sure there was no one loitering about in the hall, at his cue, his stout assistant promptly took up his post in front of Room Twelve while the stranger producing his master key, entered the room.    Once at the interior, he first briefly surveyed the layout of the room, considering (bearing in mind) with a calculating gleam in his eye, where Tonng Yennik had left his luggage.  Grinning wryly, he next, turned to the opposite end and decisively walked over to the anticipated, precise spot where Tonng Yennik would have secured the papers.  Retrieving the bundle from the cavity behind the loose wall paneling, he carefully removed the contents and studied them.  He nodded absentmindedly, his sinister grin showing a slight glee of satisfaction.

 Afterwards he carefully replaced it just as he had found it and, not disturbing anything else in the room, turned and swiftly went out (exited, left).

01- FAMOUS BATHOUSE- SPA (6)JPG

In one of the private bathing chambers, Nevetsecnuac, despite his natural reserve, keeping up with the pretense, had allowed himself to be helped out of his clothes by the skimpily clad, ravishingly attractive (pleasant to the eye) young attendants (male or female); however, he’d refused all the additional, complementary perks, such as, special drinks and variety of morsels, soothing incense, potions or special ointments and massages (reflexology, acupressure, shiatzu, rubbing etc) that were designed to soothe any tense muscles, as well, enrich the bathing experience. The group of professionals promptly dismissed, they left with an obvious dejected, disappointed pout registering on each one’s faces.

 Refusing also any special accompaniment and having already donned (put on) a special cloth kilt (sarong) fastened around his waist (the rest of the garb, attire, flowing loose), which allowing him some modesty, Nevetsecnuac quietly climbed into (entered) the large pool and then immersed (engulfed) his body to midway to chest , delighting in the  steaming hot, perfumed waters. He swam to the far side, away from other customers, not wishing to idle converse with anyone and turned his back to the few other male guests who were already bathing, swooshing about complacently in the water, tended to by nubile attendants.

02- NEVETSECNUAC IN A BATHOUSE (19)JPG

Tonng Yennik’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) own clothes, meanwhile, were quickly whisked away to be cleaned and scented and in their place a plush long, embroidered terrycloth garb (garment) had been deposited, in anticipation of his leisurely recline on a sofa, as he might rest there, perhaps sleep, partake food and refreshments, or something else, depending on his preferred requirements, after his bath. In any event he would be pampered, till he chose to return to his private room at the inn. 

As he quietly set down on the submerged bench at the periphery of the pool, a sudden shriek ensued by a rude, boisterous laugh from one of the guests drew his attention and he half turned his head to gage what all the commotion had been about. The corner of his eye instead, caught sight of a curious looking, solitary man who appeared very much ill at ease, not at all enjoying the bath, though immersed to shoulders, in the hottest, steamiest section, at the far-off corner off the pool. Just then he, having had enough soaking, went out of the pool and sat at the bench, in supposedly thoughtful repose.

03-NEVETSECNUAC IN A BATHOUSE (27)-JPG

 Intrigued, Nevetsecnuac from hence, covertly watched the man. And when one of the attendants seductively lavished irresistible attention on him, the man had arrogantly, in an atypical (odd, nonconforming) way had feigned a passive disinterest, while continuing to discreetly, over the shoulder of the unsuspecting attendant, to spy, to scrutinize Tonng Yannik (Nevetsecnuac).  Moment later he was back in water, thinking that he would be more imperceptible (unseeable, hidden) while he kept on with his prying (snooping); he’d then even allowed one of the attendants to fuss on him.

Meanwhile, the notable (powerful) stranger (which had intrigued Nevetsecnuac, the one in the dining hall), and his intimidating guards, were nowhere to be seen; he clearly having bypassed (avoided) this spa experience.

Just then, expectantly, Kjeld Rosko’s assistant Rodny appeared on the scene, carrying a bundle of clothes tugged under his arm.  He started perspiring profusely the instant he had entered the area because he was fully dressed and so, with the back of his hand he wiped the perspiration off his brow, as he scrutinized the tubs, looking for someone specific, with urgent eyes.

04-ASSISTANT RODNEY

Catching the eye of the specific spy, he gave the barest (basic) of nods and, leaving the clothes close at hand, in one of the private chambers, quickly turned on his heels and left.  Responding immediately, the spy after his furtive glace around, making sure this had escaped notice, he rudely shoved the attendant aside and, disregarding the plaintive grunts, promptly got out of the water.  Nevetsecnuac imagined him hastily dressing himself in the clothes left by the assistant Rodny. Shortly after he’d emerged at the outside of the chamber smiling bleakly and then stole a brief side glance at Tonng Yennik before he hurried out the door.

Nevetsecnuac nodded in understanding, “Go ahead, have a good, hard look as you are ordered to do.  I'll even take an extra-long time enjoying my bath to avail you all the time you need, for thorough scrutiny and concrete (firm) validation of my identity papers.”

05- NEVETSECNUAC IN A BATHOUSE (21)- JPG

Nevetsecnuac closing his eyes then,  sank his body further down, allowing it  to be enveloped  by the  hot, therapeutic, mineral waters that also nourished the soul; inwardly however, having noted the  prevalent collusions (intrigues, conspiracies)being common as the, breath of air,  in this Province, Nevetsecnuac could not help  but hypothesize on the number of  factions that at present, might be nestled under this very roof of the Inn. 

After the long, relaxing time, Nevetsecnuac don (put on) the terrycloth garb and smiled, rather pleased with the comfort the plush robe tendered. He however had sternly (adamantly) refused the attendant’s alluring advances and the offers of special massage, smoke, exotic foods, liquids, and plus various other tantalizing bonuses, and instead, headed straight back to his room to consume the hot meal he had previously ordered.

                                                                                ~

In Room Ten the meeting was just ending. Fradel Rurik Korvald's identity had been confirmed, and the men had been briefed and each allocated to his own special task.

 In summary, the stranger seated at the head of the table, was now ordering his guards to proceed swiftly with the execution of the greater plan as soon as they left through the room's hidden back door.

"Now see to it that all the loose ends are taken care of.  It must all look like an accident.  No incriminating thread must be left that would lead to us.  Is that understood?"  There was no real need for this (drill) warning, for they had done this a hundred times before.

"Yes, Captain." the three responded in unison.

The captain waved them away, "Good, you're dismissed.  All that is, save Tizan.  I'd like a few words with you."  He motioned the stern guard to a seat then waited until they were left in private.  Leaning forward the captain asked: "Have you seen to the matter of that spy?"

"Yes sir." Tizan responded briskly.  "He is now with his ancestors.  As per your orders, we relaxed our vigil, and it all went just as anticipated.  That fool led us straight to him in the bathing hall.  The stupidity of that man never can surprise me."

He shook his head in contempt, “Forsaking the lives of his own father, wife, and infant son to send word to Egil Viggoaries’s forces by way of that spy.  Is that addle-brained or what?  Then again," he shrugged dispassionately and leaned back a little, "his fate and theirs are sealed nonetheless."  Stroking his thin beard, he smiled wryly and gave a knowing wink.

This sudden, strange familiarity bothered the captain. Though he trusted Tizan more than the rest, he looked at him guardedly.  Tizan had won his confidence some five years previous, which was no mean feat.  At the risk of his own hide, this guard had rescued him from a very tight situation.  Unquestionably Tizan was bold and confident, but his heart was hard, harder than stone, and it bore a genuine contempt for the rest of mankind.  In part, that had been the reason why Tizan had been entrusted with the most important and most difficult tasks.  He knew that Tizan could execute even the most horrendous murders expeditiously and without question and without a qualm.  In that time, however, his relationship with Tizan had always been strictly formal, distant, and cold.  He preferred it, that way to maintain impartiality and strict discipline.  In this service, it meant survival.  In such a task force any member, any subordinate could be severed instantly, effectively, and without qualm if they strayed or got out of line.  So why is Tizan being so insubordinate?  As useful as he is, he is still expendable.  When his eyes met Tizan's, the Captain's expression was totally unreadable, a purposeful move meant to unnerve his subordinate.  Seeing Tizan snap back into military bearing without showing the least sign of discomfort at his scrutiny, he knew his point had been made.

Captain narrowed his eyes, deciding to overlook the matter this time.  Assuming a stern expression, he asked, "Any difficulty in attaining", and then stole a glance at the door before he leaned forward to frame the rest of his question in a whisper.

"No, sir;" Tizan replied tersely.

06-TZAN JP

"Good.  You have much to accomplish tonight but remember; there are to be no witnesses."

"Yes sir."

"You may go now."  The captain turned his attention to the document he had just removed from his inner pocket.

Tizan stood up smartly and walked towards the door.  His hand reached out for the door handle, then ceased mid-way.  On the other side he could hear the frightened eavesdropper scrambling to get clear of the door.

“You are stinking piece of offal,” Tizan gave a scornful, venomous smile then, with a calculating gleam in his eyes, withdrew his hand and stole a look back towards the captain.

"Is there something else?"  The captain, seated back to the door, lifted his head from his reading to demand.

Tizan looked back to the door, “I’ll force your hand yet, you slimy weasel! “Turning about smartly, Tizan responded, "May I have a word with you, sir?

"Can't it wait?"  The captain asked, aware of the slight hesitation in Tizan's voice.

 “I suppose that you are now going to alert me to Briac's doings. “Captain smiled knowingly and, folding the document once more, returned it to the inner pocket.  Half turning to throw a curious glance at the door, then at Tizan, he nodded and indicated the chair with his chin.  "Be sure to make it brief." he warned.

Tizan took a breath.  "May I speak frankly, sir?"

"You are trying my patience, Tizan." the captain barked.

 "Speak up, man, I haven't got all night!  Say what you will and be done with it!"

"It's Briac, sir that I wish to warn you about.  I know he's been with you for a long time, a lot longer than I have, but of late - how shall I put this - I've noted serious inconsistencies in him, especially in the way he's always overreacting, as if he has something to cover up - like that ruckus he raised in the dining hall.  It’s all to impress you, sir."

"Do you realize the seriousness of your accusation, Tizan?"  The captain drowned a frown.  "You had better have some solid evidence to substantiate your claim.  Well, have you?"

His irate bark caught Tizan by surprise.  This was not the reaction he had expected to receive from the more perceptive, the more discerning Captain.

 Startled at that moment, he came to believe that the captain was dressing him down, berating him in earnest, so convincing was, his superior's playacting and, in that moment, Tizan almost lost his head.

“How dare he?  Captain or no Captain, no one talks to me like that and lives!”  He clenched his fist, his chest rose and fell, and his eyes bored angrily into the captain's face.

The coldness of his gaze touched the captain to the core.  Still unrelenting, he stared back at Tizan belligerently, the threat most explicit in his silence.

Tizan blanched and lowered his eyes.

"I conclude by your silence that you have none." The captain finally ejected angrily.

 "I'm disappointed in you, Tizan."  His voice became markedly different. Touch concern took root and mellowed his subsequent stern tones, "You should consider yourself fortunate that I know your character well, Tizan.  I know, for instance, that you have a measure of integrity that places you above petty, malicious slanders.  Your obvious contempt of late for Briac could not fail to come to my attention.  It does not matter who, or what substantiated this observation.  I was hoping that this damaging rift would be resolved of its own accord without need for my interference, but I see now that I must deal with this forcefully.  I order you to drop this nonsense at once and, furthermore, you are to make every effort to get along peacefully with Briac.  No more friction.  I will not tolerate any dissension within this group.  Do you understand me?  If you don't, I'll be forced to deal with you more severely."

“That’s telling him, Captain.”  Outside the door, Briac with a smirk on his face, derided (jeered, scoffed, sneered).  Well, what you know…. all those Years of diligence sure paid off.  Imagine that; Frastos putting in a good word for me.  I always liked him best.  Maybe I can use him to more advantage.” 

07- BRIAC (3)

In contrast to his angry words of admonishment, however, the captain, his back to the door, bore a peaceful expression.  Tizan was baffled until, at the end, the captain half turned, threw a cursory glance at the door, and gave Tizan an accommodating smile.  Suddenly Tizan grasped the situation and his indignation spontaneously melted.

“So, this entire scene had been played out, all, for the benefit of that excrement’ eavesdropper, Briac… The captain, then, wants me to watch Briac carefully, monitor his actions but do nothing for the time being.  Perhaps the captain has a specific use for him, like relaying false information at some crucial time” Tizan nodded dutifully.

Briac standing outside with his ear to the door, unaware of the ploy against him, grinned from ear to ear, when he heard the captain say, "Now listen, Tizan.  I will not have you speak ill of Briac; he is an exemplary and most trusted officer.”

“In the long while that he has been in my service, he has never given me cause to have a single concern or raised the least reason to doubt his loyalty. I repeat, I will not have you slandering a good officer!"

"Yes sir.  I'm sorry, sir.  I will do as you say, sir." Tizan begrudgingly agreed to the captain's demands.

“Go ahead, crawl.  Then crawl some more.  It does my heart good to hear you being chewed out for once.” Briac snickered outside.

"All right; In view of your past good record, I'll forget this unpleasant incident for now."

“Oh no; you're letting him off the hook way too easy!” Briac gritted his teeth in disappointment.

"Thank you, sir, for giving me this chance. I shall mend my failing (flaw) and make things right." Tizan stood up and awaited a dismissal that was purposefully delayed giving Briac time to flee to safe distance.

                                                                                   

                                                                                    ~

 

(END OF SECTION 18) 

Tuesday, 7 October 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 17

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 17

The ensuing days and nights the relentless journey passed in much the same way: during daylight hours riding as hard as the mare's endurance would allow it and, stopping briefly at nightfall, in some secluded safe spot (away from the main highway), to allow the animal to recoup part of her spent strength.

Eventually on the fifth day, the road ahead merged with the new major trading route that accordingly (according to general hearsay), would be winding its way alongside the river leading to, at some point, to the bustling trading post.

01- NEVETSECNUAC

When at dusk, Nevetsecnuac’s sharp eyes spotted the beginnings of habitation in yonder (in the far distance); he halted the mare’s gallop and paused briefly to ponder whether it was time for him now to revert to his scholarly disguise.

 Concluding in the end that assuming Fradel Rurik Korvald's identity was more appropriate, despite the traps that may lie- in- wait on the road ahead, Nevetsecnuac steered the horse away from the road and, in a perfectly (hidden) secluded spot, clad himself once more in the poet's finery.

Just as he was about to discard the (bundled up) hunting clothes into a deep crevice, his eyes suddenly caught the jutting head of the miniature key, previously given to him in the pit by the tortured skeleton.

Pulling it out, he examined the item more intently (carefully) in daylight, before returning it to his inner pocket and resuming his journey.

Along the way Nevetsecnuac cogitated (deliberated) on how the metal of the miniature key had been sturdy and, strangely, shared certain similar properties, same texture, sheen, and resiliency, with the sword Zonar, at the start of their combat, had given him (furnished him with) for his use. 

Nevetsecnuac further mulled over (nominated) on, those precious small jewels all inset (inlaid) into the stem and around three cursive pictographs, a rare feat, so ingeniously crafted (worked) into the metal. 

His focus suddenly straying (drifting), “Zonar?" he abruptly queried.

"Your presence has been sorely missed.  When and where, I wonder, will our next destined encounter be?"  His lone cry, left unchallenged, resounded in the thin air, losing itself in the whisper of the wind rippling through the hills.

“Indeed, in a strange way he’d missed his most formidable adversary.”

Nevetsecnuac’s thoughts veered, this time, to his recent hallucination and he questioned yet again whether it was a premonition of the future after all.

 “Would the invincible warrior Zonar, really bring about my premature doom?” 

An inexplicable shudder passed through Nevetsecnuac just then, as the cryptic, cold hand of Death tapped his shoulder.  Despite it all, however, he still felt an absence of malice or disdain towards Zonar.

 “Perhaps that is where my own weakness lies?”

When rider and mount halted for a brief respite, Nevetsecnuac’s attention reverting on the miniature key, he pulled it out and studied those three cursive pictographs that had been worked into the metal.

They were unlike any he had seen or studied.

Unable to decipher their meaning, he decided to postpone solving it till later and quickly secured the key back this time, in his luggage.  He then in one fluid motion mounted the horse and in keeping with the pretense of Fradel Rurik Korvald, picked up the reins in the fastidious manner of a casual rider rather than his usual, expert grip.

Carrying the ornate crop that fashionable scholars used, he quickly spurred the horse back onto the road.  This time, however, he kept the horse's speed more moderate and, in keeping with the disguise, he allowed his rudiment traits (mannerisms, characteristics) merge in conformity with Fradel Rurik Korval’s.

Be that as it may, a sudden query (inquiry) prayed on Nevetsecnuac mind, a deep concern on how his sworn brother was faring in his own journey towards the mountain home where Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and Teuquob awaited.

Nevetsecnuac understood that once Fradel had appraised them of the current political situation, so vastly different from the fictitious one by Heng Erling, and consequently, the amended goal; they would be despondent, comprehending (grasping) that he (Nevetsecnuac) would, forever be lost to them.

 Unbidden, Nevetsecnuac shed a silent tear, his soul now torn at their imagined, inevitable, inconsolable grief.  A Gut-wrenching sadness gripped his heart further, knowing he would miss out on seeing (his identical twins,) his son Alric Svein (boy) and daughter Lueling (girl), grow up.

                                                                                       ~                                                                                     

The journey thus far had been long and arduous, yet these rigors paled in comparison to the impending difficulties that lay ahead.  The Capital Province Holger, with all its rigid rules, regulations and stirring of the political soup made Nevetsecnuac a bit uneasy at first, but as he had been preparing for this eventuality all his life, he remained fully confident in meeting these challenges.  And for now, passing as the esteemed scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald presented the least problem of all.

Suddenly, Nevetsecnuac was rudely awakened from his hopeful reverie by the vociferous sounds of gambling, vigorous gaiety and strident music emanating from a string of inns lining the road up ahead.  The savory smells of every imaginable kind of dish assailed his nostrils, and he became aware for the first time that day of his empty stomach.  Reflecting, he realized that he had neglected to eat since the day before yesterday.

Dusk was falling once more, and he finally succumbed to the strong yearning within him for a warm bath and a cooked meal.

Halting the mare in front of the sixth inn by the side of the road, the most modest and respectable looking one of the lots, Nevetsecnuac dismounted and handed the horse's reins to the eager young stable hand.  Another page boy ran up as he dismounted and scooped up the baggage Nevetsecnuac had already tossed down.  Pausing for a moment Nevetsecnuac watched the stable boy gently handling the horse and leading the mare to the stables out back, then quickly mounted the marble steps (stairs) that led up to the posh (well-constructed) ebony door of the Inn, with the page burdened with the luggage following (trailing) close behind.

Nevetsecnuac was politely greeted by a dignified, rather young-looking, tall, lean, stern-faced proprietor seated at the makeshift desk. The original desk, Nevetsecnuac was to learn later on, had been badly damaged the previous night, casualty of an unprecedented brawl (fight, scuffle) between the two members of a rival faction, and was taken away for prompt repairs.  

02-  PROPRIETOR KJELD ROSKO

The proprietor had keen (intense), intelligent eyes, which its scrutiny penetrated deep within one’s soul. Rising to his feet at once, he’d approached the scholar, and with a slight bow of the head had introducing himself as Kjeld Rosko, the humble proprietor of that establishment, then courteously ushered the obviously distinguished scholar (Nevetsecnuac), to a comfortable seat by the makeshift registry desk.

Nevetsecnuac was first offered a complimentary cup of fragrant tea and asked if he would like some delectable tartlet to go with it.  Before Nevetsecnuac had a chance to reply, however, a shapely maid had brought in a tray bearing the steaming pot (of more tea) and some colorful, fluffy pastries. As Nevetsecnuac politely nodded and reached for the offered cup, the proprietor Kjeld Rosko, assuming his businesslike persona, steered around the table/desk and, fetching the elaborately bound registry book from the drawer, he opened it to a specific page.  After picking up the writing brush from its stand and loading it with ink, his eyes lightly trailed down the list of names on the parchment page to the last entry.

Smiling, Kjeld Rosko (the innkeeper) then looked up to pleasantly inquire after his honorable guest's name, his intended length of stay and his immediate and long-term requirements.

"Tonng Yennik." Nevetsecnuac, wishing to escape the scrutiny and unwarranted attention that the name of Fradel Rurik Korvald would attract, without the least change in his serene, but firm countenance, responded.  As Nevetsecnuac was dictating his other requirements his eye, covertly turned towards the crowded dining hall, where he caught sight of a singular stranger, armed with a finely made broadsword under his tailored garments, taking his evening meal in the company of two stout guards.

The stranger, though seated in a far corner, cut such an imposing figure that everyone in the hall was obviously ill at ease with his presence there.  A slight look of displeasure, after sampling (nibbling) one of the morsels, immediately unleashed, a fit of rage and hurling abuses from the guard on the left, directed at the manager who, in turn, red-faced, berated the hapless waiter who appeared to be laboring for breath from fright, but before he could pass out cold, he’d been perfunctorily dismissed.  On a signal from the manager, the more efficient, seasoned staff burst into the scene to fawn (toady, grovel) and to serve on the demanding two.

Kjeld Rosko momentarily distracted by this, his face twitched failing to hide his irritation and suppressed hostility, but only for a spell; the expression in his blue eyes now unreadable, he sported (wore) for a time a wry (sardonic) grin, as he followed the ongoing  frenzied activity to appease the occupants of that table in the dining hall.  Subsequently, turning away, he barked at the page (more like a snap command) to take the guest’s luggage on up to the available room at once then, hastened to complete his business with scholar Tonng Yennic.

03- KJELD ROSKO

In the midst of all that mayhem, the stranger’s eyes had briefly, with a cold, callous air swept the room, totally disregarding the ruckus (commotion) the guard on his left hand instigated (set off); then, purposefully averting Nevetsecnuac’s gaze, he indifferently resumed his stern conversation with the bearded one on his right.

 “Who are you that you should warrant such fear?”  Nevetsecnuac mused, as he stole an impassive glance at the stranger. 

The moment Nevetsecnuac was anew engaged by the proprietor Kjeld Rosko, however, the stranger reverted his cold, piercing eyes with a calculating gleam back on Nevetsecnuac to study him more intently.  His obvious subordinate, the keen bearded companion, becoming aware of this, abruptly fell silent and turned slightly in the same direction to see Nevetsecnuac then, reverted (turned) his questioning gaze back on the latter.

Nevetsecnuac, from the corner of his eye, astutely observed how the bearded one receiving some silent instructions inclined his head towards the lobby and nodded to some unseen person.

“Now the trap will be set.”  Nevetsecnuac tad (smidgen), amused, nonchalant, at his leisure rose and followed the innkeeper and his assistant Rodny (who’s rigid demeanor was more akin to a bodyguard) up the stairs.

The subtle exchange, Kjeld Rosko catching the stranger's eye in passing and, giving the other a terse, obsequious nod, was of course shrewdly noted by Nevetsecnuac. Stifling a chortle, midway up the stairs he (Nevetsecnuac) turned and halted, boldly looking back at the stranger, giving him a complete once over.

“Who are you, really,” Nevetsecnuac intrepidly mused.

And when Nevetsecnuac’s eye caught the dour glower (stern scowl) of the bearded guard, he simply grimaced wryly and, undaunted, turned to continue following Kjeld Rosko and his assistant Rodny, to the top of the stairs.

The proprietor Kjeld Rosko observing scholar’s audacious (risky) demeanor, his face for a spell had turned ashen, but of course, he had quickly masked his dread and, from then on with a glint of admiration in his pupils, he’d covertly scrutinized this unusual scholar, while he hastened his steps towards the assigned room. Finally, at the end of the long hall Nevetsecnuac was solicitously ushered into an airy, comfortable room.

“Lavish decorations,” Nevetsecnuac noted after a cursory glance, “far too lavish, in fact.”

 A frown appeared on his face, and he shook his head, "This will not do!"

"But sir, it’s the best room we have, the most luxurious one at this Inn." Suppressing his fury, Kjeld Rosko reticently (reservedly, warily) protested.  Clearly, he had not anticipated the objection.  His assistant standing rigidly on the side, looking aghast and tongue-tied, wrung his hands as he nervously searched his brain for more persuasive words, to assist his boss in this.

Nevetsecnuac disdainfully walked past both, to stand before a magnificent tapestry hanging over the far wall.  His stern eyes surveyed the fine stitching until they pointedly rested on a miniature hole concealed by the design, and he grimaced coldly.

On the other side the spy blanched and instinctively recoiled with a jerk, fearing he had been found out.  Then, acknowledging that that was impossible, he pressed a single eye back to the portal only to meet Nevetsecnuac's cold stare once more.  Excitement and fear coursed through his veins as he shuddered anew, filled with apprehension.

04- SPY (FRASTOS) - JP 11

Nevetsecnuac, however, smiled sourly and half turned to address the inwardly seething Kjeld Rosko.

"Are you daft or hard of hearing; I said, this room is unsatisfactory. “He said crossly (irately) then softening his tone, explained. “For one thing, it’s too drafty," he shot a glance back at the tapestry, "for another, I prefer the western exposure.  Perhaps I've neglected to inform you of these particular requirements."

"Please, reexamine facts sir and reconsider," Kjeld Rosko clenched his right fist, hidden behind his back, as his assistant, now tongue-tied, clamoring for an apt excuse.  "If I may be candid with you, the rooms facing west are all occupied.  Besides that, they are all second rate and decidedly draftier."  Kjeld said in a placating tone, though he held his hard gaze on the arrogant scholar, "Won't you reassess?  I'll do everything in my power to make your stay here most pleasant and comfortable.  This is truly our finest room, as befits one of your ‘stature, sir.  I assure you that, even if another room becomes available, it will fall considerably short of the luxury you see here."

"Look here," Nevetsecnuac cut him short with a curt gesture of his hand, "if you don't have the means to accommodate me as I wish, then I strongly suggest that you stop wasting my time.  Have my horse brought round at once!"  Feigning anger, he made to leave, pushing past Kjeld Rosko.

"What's all the commotion about?"  The bearded guard from the dining hall suddenly appeared in the hall.

"Sir, this is a private matter.  Your rude intrusion is not appreciated."  Nevetsecnuac glared at the guard provocatively.

“What business is this of yours?  Get lost!” his stern look plainly said.

Obviously unused to this kind of treatment, the guard looked sharply at Nevetsecnuac, his hand gliding over to rest threateningly at the hilt of his sheathed sword, and his polite smile instantly turned into an icy scowl of hatred.

 Any other would have been wasted for a mere cross look, let alone such a rebuke!

“Have you not the slightest idea whom you are addressing?” his eyes narrowed, as he glared venomously (furiously), the threat implicit in his silence.

“So,” Nevetsecnuac mused, “you've had orders not to molest (assault, abuse, mistreat) me; interesting!”

 In keeping with a scholar's arrogance, Nevetsecnuac was about to haughtily rebuff the restrained bully further, when Kjeld Rosko, with unusual agility, rushed past Tonng Yennik (Nevetsecnuac).

Eyes hard with steel determination, the resilient (tough and flexible) proprietor, nevertheless, bowed low to the guard.

"I apologize profusely, sir, for your trouble.  I apologize to you both."  Kjeld Rosko turned and bowed low also, to Tonng Yennik.  Despite his outward show of submission, he quaked in rage, inwardly. Nevetsecnuac was secretly impressed with Kjeld Rosko’s admirable stoical (tolerant, forbearing) nature.

"It’s just a slight misunderstanding, that's all."  Shifting his sham (pretend), nervous gaze back and forth between the guard and Tonng Yennik, he dabbed at the supposed perspiration on his mustache, with his handkerchief.  "The gentleman wishes to have another room.  I was just about to accommodate his wishes."

“It sounds like you're asking his permission, innkeeper!” Nevetsecnuac questioningly looked at Kjeld Rosko.

The guard's face, meanwhile, had crinkled in momentary disgust as, clenching his fist, he let the built-up anger drain slowly from him.  After a scornful laugh he averted Tonng Yennik's eyes and gave the briefest of nods.

 "I apologize for the intrusion."  Without another word, he briskly turned and left.

Kjeld Rosko was relieved that the volatile situation had been averted; after a furtive glance at the retreating guard, he politely turned to address the scholar: "Please, for the time being, make yourself comfortable here; I'll go and make all the specific arrangements at once." Attaining a nod of concurrence from Tonng Yennik, he exhaled deeply, bowed low once more, then hastily withdrew.

“What dramatics!” Nevetsecnuac shook his head after the proprietor.

 “It had not been his intention to be so hard on Kjeld Rosko.  He was only testing the waters to see how far they would go to keep him here.  But why have they made no contact yet?  What were they waiting for?”  Nevetsecnuac had already formed his own opinion on the singular stranger's role in all this or, at least, who it was that had ordered his accommodation here.  Nevetsecnuac had set the wheel in motion, forced their hands but, until the inevitable meeting which, he was certain, would transpire later that night, there was little left now for him to do.  With a shrug of his shoulders, he strolled to the far end of the room and stood in front of the window, thoughtfully staring out at the view.  The miniature gardens, with their man-made mountains and creeks, the snaking pathways bordered by elaborate lattices seemed to be pure ostentation. 

05-SCHOLAR TONNG YENNICK (NEVETSECNUAC)JPG

The shallowness of it all rather disgusted him.  “Only those who only experienced nature at second hand could find the tiny landscape appealing,” he concluded.  He disdainfully pursed his lips then turned away from the window, his mind returning to the stranger and his guards.

“I foiled their immediate plans and forced them into an alternate course.  Next, I'll appear agreeable, but not too much so.  Why should I make things too easy for them?”  His eyes once more surveyed the room.

“I wonder where the trap door is.”  Deducing (figuring out) the most likely spot, he walked over and tapped lightly, so as not to alert any guard concealed within.  Satisfied with the result, he turned back and sat down by the fireplace.

Short time later Kjeld returned somewhat panting (winded, breathless) and with flushed (red) face, for he had to oversee a lot of details and alter or shift the carefully devised plans and traps that had been in place for nearly a month.  After apologizing profusely to Tonng Yennik for the inconvenience and the slight delay he declared, with a certain satisfaction, that the room fitting his precise specifications had now been made ready for his perusal. Kjeld Rosko then, graciously inclined his head and invited Tonng Yennik to follow him.  As they were leaving, Kjeld turned and bayed at his underling Rodney, to; at once move the gentleman's baggage to the “Room Twelve”.

Down the hall, they came across a disgruntled merchant, hair disheveled and clothes akimbo, being hastily, unceremoniously deposited into a new room.  Too angry, or perhaps too frightened, to articulate his feelings, he glared furiously at Kjeld Rosko then stole a scornful glance at Tonng Yennik, before going in and pointedly slamming the door in their faces as they passed.

Feigning incomprehension, Nevetsecnuac raised an eyebrow at the innkeeper.  The apologetic Kjeld nervously rushed to give some lame excuse for the merchant's rude behavior, glancing fearfully at the cracked door to his left as he spoke.  Then, with polite rhetoric (pomposity), he motioned to the room on the right and, inclining his head slightly, ushered Tonng Yennik into the hastily prepared Room Twelve.

"Is this room more to your satisfaction, sir?  Does it meet with your approval?"  Kjeld’s deep etched lines on his face, tell-tale-signs of fret, creased further with impatience as he, waited for an answer.

"Hmm… It will do." Nevetsecnuac responded, after a brief perusal.  Walking over to the far corner, he sunk into a comfortable chair by the mantle.

 “Odd,” Nevetsecnuac noted the recently disturbed dust floating in the air; “this room had not been used for some time.  It obviously wasn't my needs that dislodged that merchant.”

Highly pleased and, showing no inclination to leave Kjeld, meanwhile, had walked up to the tray bearing a teapot and cups and, turning, graciously offered his guest a seething cup of fragrant tea. Receiving a negative response, he next, on the pretext of showing the amenities of the room and how it accorded with his guest's instructions, prodded Tonng Yennik discreetly, so he thought, for more information, his background, destination, and the nature of his business in the Capital.

With a seemingly agreeable disposition, Nevetsecnuac provided him with only the minimum of harmless information, just enough to satisfy Kjeld's curiosity.  Then, feigning distraction, inquired pointedly after the stranger with the broadsword whom he had seen earlier in the dining hall.

06- FAMOUS BATHOUSE  (3)JPG

The shock, which Kjeld Rosko so miserably failed to mask and, his subsequent, evasive answers, piqued Nevetsecnuac’s curiosity.  Nevertheless, for the time being, he decided to simply let it pass.

To Kjeld’s relief just then, an underling after knocking poked his head in and hastily offered his apologies for the intrusion; he next, happily announced that the provisions for the bath had been made ready in the bathing hall.

"A communal bath," Tonng Yennik, his face showing obvious signs of displeasure, derisively asked.

"Why, of course." Kjeld with a profligate grin, explained.  "And you’ll be attended by rare, exquisite beauties of either gender, depending on your preference of course. We have become quite famous for our bathing facilities here ever since we found the means to channel the nearby hot springs in an unlimited supply.  Sir, you are quite fortunate that you have come at this time before high Season.  Winter is our busiest time, and nearly all our rooms are reserved far in advance by gentry from near and far.  Oh, but I'm keeping you from your enjoyment of your bath."  Seizing this opportunity, Kjeld Rosko beat a hasty retreat.

“Yes, hasten forth and report your findings to that stranger.  I'm sure he will be impressed by the uselessness of your observations,” Nevetsecnuac thought as the Innkeeper departed.

“I’m in need of a bath, “Nevetsecnuac reflected, “but only that and nothing else.”

Before he left the room however, Nevetsecnuac took the precautionary measure of concealing his identity papers in a supposed, secure place.  Locking the door after him, he swiftly traversed the long hallway and descended the stairs, following the painted images of a man in a tub down to the bathing chamber.

 

                                                                                            ~

 

(END OF SECTION 17)

Sunday, 5 October 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 16

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 16

 At a safe distance Nevetsecnuac brought the horse to a halt, with a purpose of discarding the load of game into a roadside ditch to unburden the horse and gain more speed. Suddenly however, from the far-away dense forest’s edge, he spotted a woodcutter emerging and inclined to do a good turn, spurred the horse off the road and over the rougher terrain towards him.

01- LOOKING AT THE WOODS

 Nevetsecnuac hailed the woodsman, then halted his mount at hearing range of the other; catching his eye, he then graciously inclined his head and after a polite greeting, pointed at the load of game at the back of the mare and next, generously offered the woodcutter, as gift, the entire load of game.

The stalwart, middle-aged tall man, hardly believing his ears, dropped his bundle of firewood and rushed forward enthusiastically to accept the load (furs and carcasses) that Nevetsecnuac had offered him.

At midpoint of his advance, however, the man's face suddenly, unexpectedly clouded over with deep concern and, abruptly halting his step, he locked both arms to his sides.  Shaking his head in adamant refusal, he knitted his brows and, sizing Nevetsecnuac up and down with suspicion, dubiously asked, "And why should you want to do that…us, being strangers and all that?"

His meaning was all too clear, and his tone spoke volumes.  He was accusing Nevetsecnuac of theft or even worse.

02-WOODSMAN 2

Nevetsecnuac, who was about to dismount and unpack the load from the horse, hesitated, a dark shadow crossing his face and he presently regretted his prior decision not to simply discard the game at the roadside.  As it were, another in his place, finding the woodcutter's scrutiny unwarranted and his suspicions highly offensive, would have at least berated the wretch on the spot for his ungrateful and rude conduct.

 Nevetsecnuac, however, had remarkably constrained his deep disappointment and disregarding the slight (slur) , had inclined his head to first introduce himself, using an alias he had concocted on the spot; then, with eloquence and dignity, strove to allay (dispel) the woodcutter’s fears and qualms by assuring latter (other) that the game had been honestly attained. The only hindrance, however, lay in Nevetsecnuac’s inability to invent, a most plausible explanation as to, why he would hunt so much game just to discard it all away to mere stranger in the middle of nowhere.

Highly suspicious woodcutter’s response by rights should not have been that much of a surprise; characteristically, with eyes narrowed, snarling, woodcutter had typically just then burst, “What do you take me for? I’m not a simpleton in some border town you can easily manipulate! No, I won't buy any of this.  You're most definitely up to no good and, if I were to accept this booty (as your accomplice,) it will surely land me in serious trouble.  You don't even talk like a hunter.  You're no common man, more like a …”  He paused briefly as his mind searched for words like academic, official, scholar?  “And you're certainly not from these parts.  There's no use denying it, I've lived here practically all my life.  You're definitely not from here and you're most certainly up to some mischief."  With each utterance his voice had become louder and (threatening) hostile then, brandishing his axe, he menacingly stepped forward and (spitting venom, simply) glared at Nevetsecnuac.

"I may be a rough woodcutter to you, but I can still fight as well as any seasoned squaddie (soldier, private, warrior).  Go find yourself another stooge to pin your heinous crimes on."  As he spoke, the man was inwardly cursing the infirmities heaped on him by his hard existence.  “In my heyday (prime), I'd overcome this brute in an instant; then, thief that he is, I could’ve turned him over to the authorities and get me a big, fat reward, instead of uttering idle threats and wasting my breath.” He inwardly scoffed (jeered).

"As you wish,” Nevetsecnuac was beginning to lose patience; but then on second thought, he again forced constraint on his temper and ejected evenly, "I'm sorry if I have unintentionally caused you unwarranted trepidation and much undue anxiety, sir.  Please accept my sincerest apologies.  I will trouble you no longer."

03- NEVETSECNUAC THE HUNTER 14- JP

 Nevetsecnuac steered (turned, coxed) his mount around to leave this ungrateful woodcutter; his intention was to discard the amassed game, carcasses, secured on the back of the mare, somewhere else, anywhere but here, and further along the route the better.

The shrewd and lithe (nimble) woodcutter, meanwhile, had vacillated in his resolve, though only for a spell, regretting his hasty rebuff.  “Could he have misjudged this youth? He should have trusted his prior instinct, instead of letting fear and disbelief cloud his judgement, perhaps erroneously. But no,” his stubborn heart rebuffed it; his inner caution resurfacing again. 

“Why should he make me such a generous gift, unless there is mischief involved?”

His brain colluding (scheming) had rattled on, while machinating thoughts alongside registering in lightning speed, forced his mind to further consider all aspects with more clarity and depth, to arrive at sly plot.

Certainly, game was prevalent in the mountains, but the land was equally perilous and riddled with pitfalls and the amount of game the solitary hunter had had with him, as competent as he appeared, still told of at least a week's worth of effort.  Why should the hunter discard it all, when he could easily make a handsome profit for the lot, in town?  

Then again, with his (woodcutter’s) own meager sustenance, why should he let this good fortune pass him by?  Heaven had delivered this into his calloused hands, would it not be better to invite the hunter to his shack, drug and then deliver (deposit) him bound and gagged before the authorities?  Why should he, because of prudence (caution and fear), let this golden opportunity slip through his fingers? Yes, the trick may well work; he had just enough belladonna left, after the last use.

For a moment his heart was downcast, thinking how he’d worked so hard to bury his past, endured so much in this isolated corner… but still that brute had tracked him down then dared to threaten to expose him….  The Woodcutter had just then momentarily shifted focus onto the deep, ugly scar on his left hand; an involuntary shudder just then rippled through him, recollecting that last spontaneous act and the consequential perilous brush with death. He had got exactly what he deserved!  The Woodcutter inwardly hissed then shook his head to expunge all those unwelcome thoughts, forcing his attention to the present situation. In the end he nodded his head, having decided already on how to deal with this present dilemma, then with incredible agility of a wildcat, rushed at once, with open arms (with one arm still holding the axe however), showing he meant no harm, to stoically (with stoicism) block the hunter’s path.

With the fire in his eyes burning with steel determination and, his left hand still gripping the axe, the woodcutter stonily stared up at Nevetsecnuac for a time, his unruly mind, meanwhile, racing with new possibilities.  Just as quickly however, his focus snapped back to present reality and with unreadable expressions on his face then, his eyes betraying nothing, however, his voice carrying urgent, apologetic tone, he yowled (yelped) at the mounted youth: "Wait! Please wait!”

With uncanny agility and stubbornness, he next rushed forward to tug at the hunter’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) trouser leg.  "I…I do apologize.  Please forgive me, generous sir.  I lost my head there for a spell.  Times are hard, very hard, and one can't be too careful these days, you know.  You could have been a government agent, secret police, some spy, or simply an affiliate henchman. How could I, a poor old woodcutter with failing eyesight, decipher the truth anymore?  Everything is getting more secretive; more complex all the time.  Please don't hold my blunder against me.  I know now in my heart that I've done you grievous wrong and for that I'm truly, deeply ashamed.  Say that you forgive me."  He entreated (implored) Nevetsecnuac in seeming sincerity, giving him no chance to respond.

"I discern now that you're an honest chap." The woodcutter incessantly continued with his honeyed words. "So, let us put aside these obvious misunderstandings, all right?  I will graciously accept your most generous gift.  You must permit me, in return, to repay your kindness and, as well, atone for my mistakes.  Why don't you come with me for a hot meal?  My wife is a good cook and can prepare a dozen or so savory dishes in the blink of an eye.  The way you're heading, you won't see an inn or hostel for at least three, five days’ ride.  Please accept a hot meal and a night's lodging from this old man."

“Savory dishes; an odd choice of words for a crude (an unsophisticated) woodsman(woodcutter). I doubt he even has a wife.”  Nevetsecnuac, losing patience, but only inwardly, coolly rebuffed (snubbed); then outwardly shaking his head, in an even tone just stated that he could not unfortunately spare the time and with a definite no nonsense demeaner, spurred his horse forward.

The old man, forced aside, immediately dropped all pretenses and with his dark countenance, grinding his teeth, once more hurled curses and treats after Nevetsecnuac.

04- WOODSMAN

Checking his rising fury, Nevetsecnuac reminded himself that the woodsman (woodcutter) was only a victim of his circumstances, was acting out of fear and therefore not entirely responsible for his erratic behavior; nevertheless, with sadness gripping his heart, he half turned to take one last long look at the enraged woodsman, and with just a slight nod of his head he calmly  bid him farewell, then simply rode off into distance.

 He did not look back nor lend an ear to the mounting torrent of abuse and curses let loose (heaped after him) by the highly incensed, indignant woodsman.

                                                                         ~

Riding into the distance, Nevetsecnuac was for a time (spell) despondent (downhearted) and also bit concerned that the old man might report this incident to the authorities, until; he reminded himself that, the rest of his journey would be spent under the alias of Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Later, with twilight (dusk, sunset) fast approaching, at some distant spot, as he discarded the pelts (furs) and carcasses (meat) of game into a gravel ditch, he quietly admonished himself for his careless act of going out of his way to do a good turn and, for being too trusting.

“You must harden your heart if you are to succeed.” Zonar's cryptic warning suddenly came to mind.

 Nevetsecnuac nodded, thus resolved to follow that good counsel.

05- NEVETS ON HORSEBACK

With the load lightened and the road ahead flat and featureless, Nevetsecnuac, with one fluid motion, mounted the mare and taking up the reigns, spurred her into a full gallop. For several hours, they rode like the wind, with the mare's hooves barely touching the ground, covering great distances even though the darkness had encroached on the land.

Nevetsecnuac would have ceaselessly continued riding all night long till down, since the ominous clouds had  by now been quickly swept away with the relentless winds, allowing the starry sky with full moon, to perfectly illuminate the desolate (remote segment of state highway) thoroughfare; however, for his mount’s sake (mare not being Fiery Comet), they halted at a safe spot for a brief respite and for (intake of) sustenance.

                                                                            ~

 

(END OF SECTION 16)