Showing posts with label stallion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stallion. Show all posts

Tuesday, 29 April 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 16

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION -16


FIERY COMET

At sunrise Fradel was nudged awake by Fiery Comet.  After washing his hands and face once more and helping himself to some dry rations, Fradel begrudgingly mounted Fiery Comet, expecting the worst.  Surprisingly, this time around, the stallion's pace was more moderate and only picked up speed once again, after a short noon recess.

With Fiery Comet's consistently high velocity, the odd and changing times of day they traveled and the short cuts the steed took through untamed wilderness, Fradel was unable to precisely determine the length of time or the distance they had covered.  Only the changing of the seasons, the brisker temperatures and the thinning air of higher altitudes gave Fradel the abstract notion that four months had elapsed since he had undertaken this long, arduous trek.

Endowed with good health to begin with, the trials of this journey had left their indelible mark on Fradel, transforming the once weak, pampered individual that he once was, into one now stronger, tougher, more resilient and rugged.  His bearing and appearance also attested to this change.


FRADEL RIDING THE FIERY COMET

 In the beginning he had tried to maintain his civilized appearance and form by constant trimming of his hair and beard and by refusing to give in to the barbaric practices the wilds of nature had repeatedly inflicted upon him.  Obsessively clean, Fradel frequently showered in the rainstorms or bathed in the rivulets and pools they encountered.  But gradually, being of a practical mind, he had condescended to roughing it in the wild.

 In a relatively short time, he had adjusted to sleeping under a blanket of stars and bearing the increasingly severe, bone-chilling night temperatures.  Putting into using his extensive knowledge of botany, he supplemented his rations from the start with sustenance of wild roots, nuts, fruits and berries.  To add variety, he had even taught himself to snare a small game, which Fiery Comet obligingly herded into his makeshift traps.

 Like a kindred spirit to the original settlers of this land, Fradel became quite adept at skinning, cleaning and then cooking these small animals over an open fire.  Sometimes, as he was washing his meals, Fradel would gaze at his reflection in a still pond, noting his long beard and disheveled hair, and laugh boisterously.


03- FRADEL ROUGHING IT

 “Ha!  If those pompous, literate friends of mine could see me now!  Would they say such lofty things about the dignity of natural man?  They would be horrified!  Yet, I've never felt better, more alive, in my life.”

Sometimes, at the conclusion of his bathing, he would spread himself on the dry grass carpet of the riverbank and bask under the golden rays of the autumn sun as he let his adventurous spirit soar into the sky.  With a trembling heart he envisioned how, one day, he would gain the necessary skill and perhaps become as accomplished a fighter as his sworn brother, Nevetsecnuac.

 "Beware, then, all you wicked men!" he would shake his fist into the air.  His optimistic nature resisted any notion of a dismal fate for either himself or Nevetsecnuac.  He saw, parading before his mind's eye, Nevetsecnuac at the (head) lead of a great army of a million men, sweeping across the land, vanquishing all opposition and ridding this stricken, teetering nation of the pernicious, parasitic, bureaucratic vermin that were picking its bones.  Subsequently, lasting peace, stability, justice, then the rule of law and order would be restored to Wenjenkun under the wise and benevolent rule of Emperor Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir. 

"I will serve you faithfully, my Prince, until my dying day." he would sit up, fist over heart, and renew his vow.

By then a bond of mutual respect had developed between the scholar and the stallion, though Fiery Comet's stubborn will had, at times, tried Fradel's patience. Because the snow came earlier to the high altitudes and they were, by now, well out of reach of any serious danger, Fiery Comet abandoned the mountainous slopes and opted in favor of following the more level topography of the valley.  From time to time as the opportunity presented itself, and always guided by the stallion’s intuition, they took a reprieve at remote inns that infrequently crossed their path.



Still, at other times, Fiery Comet was alerted to some danger and refused to stop, breaking into a day-long gallop to bypass these establishments entirely.

These all too frequent periods between inns always spelled renewed hardship for Fradel, when his rations would be depleted, and he would be constrained to improvise and forage for sustenance as he had learned to do before.  He bore these difficulties without complaint, as he had learned for himself how true Nevetsecnuac's council regarding this horse had been.


NEVETSECNUAC

 

(END OF SECTION 16)

 

Thursday, 24 April 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC -THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 15

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 15


Though Fradel was an experienced rider (equestrian), he had never before been forced to undergo such trying circumstances.  The dizzying speed with which Fiery Comet had galloped (ridden) and the many twists and turns (in topography) he had negotiated had totally spent Fradel's energies and befuddled his sense of direction.  As the stallion flew over and around the many hurdles in its path, Fradel had gripped the reins tightly, clinging to the horse in mortal fear as he used all his innate skill just to remain in the saddle.



 When, finally, Fiery Comet reined in, it took some time for Fradel to catch his breath, calm his heart and steady his nerves before he could dismount.

With the solid earth beneath his (unsteady) feet once more, Fradel looked over Fiery Comet with perturbation, feeling some misgivings despite himself.  The steed, meanwhile, was impatiently neighing and stomping his forefoot on the ground beside the very rock.

“What is it boy?” But then Fradel suddenly realized that Nevetsecnuac's sword was buried at that very spot, just few feet under the rock.

"I suppose I really should be grateful to you for saving my life?"  Fradel dusted off his clothes.  "And I realize now that it would have been too dangerous for me to return home directly at this time." he acquiesced quietly.

 After a few moments deliberation he nodded his head, recalling to mind Nevetsecnuac's parting injunction regarding this horse, “When in doubt, you may rely on his instincts. He will deliver you form all danger.”

Going over, he managed, with great effort, to roll the rock aside then, resting on his knees, dug out the sword with his bare hands.  The sword was still encased in the layers of silk brocade he had given Nevetsecnuac.  Dusting the dirt off, he removed these layers and unsheathed the sword.  Holding it high, he carefully examined this awe-inspiring weapon for any damage.  There was not even a minute notch.  Not even the slightest scratch was visible on the scintillating surface of the cold blue blade.

Truly an amazing blade, one of a kind; it must be true of what they say, that it is cast from a meteorite.  As he shifted his arm’s position, admiring the sword's brilliance, the sword's blade caught the setting sun's rays and radiated ominous torrents of sanguine red light.  That same instant, an icy breeze arose from nowhere, sweeping the area clean and forcing Fradel to shudder to the depths of his marrow.

Mesmerized by the metal's flickering light, he saw on its surface the manifestation of three levitating faces.  He sharpened his vision to recognize Nevetsecnuac's face, but could not place the other two, one old and one young and their identities baffled him.

 After a moment's reflection, however, he came to understand who the other two might be and a mournful, tragic smile played on his lips.  As his heart flooded with renewed longing and grief and his eyes brimmed with tears, he dropped to his knees and, in woeful supplication, implored Heaven's assistance in their righteous cause.

 Fiery Comet fell unusually quiet and at this moment in time, enveloped in stillness, Fradel saw unfolding in his mind's eye Nevetsecnuac's heroic countenance, larger than life, wielding this sword with consummate skill as he vanquished his enemies in a sea of blood.



 Then, from behind the prince, a monstrous crimson wave arched its back, leaping to devour him.  Reacting instantly, even though he could not swim, Fradel, with a palpitating heart, rushed forward with outstretched arms to embrace Nevetsecnuac, to shield him and deliver him from this terrible danger.  A quivering cry escaped him instead as his arms flailed in the empty air beside the rock.  Cupping his face in his hands, he gave way to a storm of tears.  His face contorted with pain and rivulets of sorrow cascaded down his burning cheeks.  Clutching at his heart, he wailed in mournful regret, "What am I doing here?  My place is with my brother.  I want to live and die by his side.  Oh, how could I have abandoned him so?”

"What do you want from me?"  The persistent nudges of Fiery Comet suddenly brought him back to his senses and the burst of anger subsided.

Presently, he hung his head low in resignation.  Yes, the beast is right.  There is no time for agonizing over my negligence.  No time for regret, or remorse, or grief. 

He knew then what he must do.  As a man of honor, his own salvation dwarfed in comparison to his obligation to deliver this sword to its rightful owner and the future heir (descendant, successor). Moreover, it was essential to the success of the task that he permitted himself no weakness.   Collecting himself, he scrambled back to his feet and carefully secured the sword across his back underneath his cape.

Though apprehensive at mounting such a spirited animal again, he nevertheless braced himself, boldly placed his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself back into the saddle.



No sooner than he'd gripped the reins, Fiery Comet shot forward like a missile just sprung from a catapult and Fradel's ordeal began anew.

Like his namesake, Fiery Comet's speed was such that Fradel felt as if he was riding a gale force wind.  The ground was a blur under the horse's hooves and the air moaned in Fradel's ears.  Flirtatious stars winked at him through floating clouds, as the trees, shrubs and grasses, casting their shadows by full moonlight, swayed in the breeze to bid them farewell.

Well into the night the lone rider sped, unfaltering, through the forests, hillsides, plains and valleys of the countryside.  Still, Fradel was not Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir.  Despite his determination and the care taken by his mount not to unseat his rider, the exertion still made Fradel's heartbeat with such wildness that he felt it would burst from his chest.

 His throat now parched, the hunger pains stabbing at his stomach merely compounded his misery. Had Fradel but known it then, this would be the norm from here on, that this was to be but the very start of the even more trying hardships that lay ahead- he might have had second thoughts and be fearful of the portended future.  As it were, from this day forth, he would never again be the one to bask in prior, carefree life of luxury (luxurious Lifestyle), one who’d devote many lonely hours to the adoration of beauty or contemplate on the philosophies of nature and of man.

 A true test to his innate (nature) characters however, he embraced wholeheartedly this new, arduous course (lifestyle), with courage and determination, wowing to do his utmost in furthering the righteous cause of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and his beloved sworn brother Prince Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir.

His will was one thing however, his physical strength and vigor (robustness) another. Despite his inner drive, his endurance taxed to the limit, he soon longed for rest.  Every fiber of his (being) body ached but his obstinate mount, as if to torment him, paid no heed to his commands and showed no sign of slowing down.

My stamina (physical strength and vigor) cannot keep up with this grueling ride, it is at ebb.  I fear it will fail me, then what?  Fradel dismally reflected. 

I should at least take measures to guard against falling. 

In desperation, he began winding the reins tightly about his wrists; securing himself somewhat he thought, in the saddle should he lose consciousness.  Before Fradel had secured the final loop, however, to his relief and elation, Fiery Comet began decreasing his speed until he came to a halt in a clearing at the edge of a forest. 

Acting on impulse, before this stubborn steed changed his mind, Fradel quickly loosened the straps and dismounted. He collapsed face down; spread-eagle on the ground in half conscious state.

When Fradel regained his senses the faint sound of a stream flowing nearby reached his ears.  So, I was not dreaming, he heaved a sigh.  Then he rubbed his throat, Oh, I'm so parched! 

Still teetering on the brink of collapsing once more, still saddle sore, he forced himself to his feet and, letting his ears and the horse, which had not left his side, to guide him, he groped his way in the darkness to the edge of the stream.  Once there he squatted, quaffing water from his cupped hands until his thirst was quenched.  Seeking further relief, he doused his face and neck with the cool, refreshing water.



Fiery Comet had moved downstream and was helping himself to drink when, feeling playful, he abruptly began to splash and spray flecks of water at the scholar.

Ignoring this dousing, Fradel rose, squeezed the excess water from his hair and, with a frown, headed straight for the nearest tree.  No sooner had he propped (leaned) his back against its trunk than his hunger disappeared, and he fell instantly into a deep slumber.

The stallion, disappointedly whinnying, trotted to Fradel's side where he began to quietly graze on the shorter blades near the tree, ignoring the lush, tall grass farther away in the meadow.

(END OF SECTION 15)

 


Tuesday, 15 April 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 12

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE  OF THINGS - SECTION 12



Nevetsecnuac politely coughed to break the uneasy silence and then adroitly, with apt sensitivity, addressed all the areas of difficulty till most of Fradel's qualms were eased.  As it were, even though Fradel's literary work had won him fame and his reputation had been widespread throughout the Kingdom, his previous seclusion proved to be a bonus (advantage) to their present plan (stratagem). No one, not even the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren who was responsible for his recommendation at Court (save for a few acquaintances in Fradel’s remote region), knew of his precise physical appearance.


NEVETSECNUAC AND FRADEL

Nevetsecnuac was erudite (scholarly, cultured, widely read); now factor in the official’s hasty, unprecise (undetailed) sketch on the ID permit, then, Nevetsecnuac could easily pass as Fradel.  All that remained at present was for the Nevetsecnuac to be briefed (updated) on the pertinent details of what was expected of him upon his arrival at the Capital and at his presentation at Court, as had been previously relayed to Fradel by the Imperial palace guard Tuo (special attaché of P.M. from the Rights division).  Diligently, Fradel began to share all he knew, even though he was extremely tired and barely able to stay awake.

"Elder Brother, you are exhausted.  Why do you persist in going on?” Nevetsecnuac was concerned about Fradel’s health, just then asserted. “Please get some rest.  Since there are still so many details that need going over, I will stick around (linger, tarry) for an extra day." To encourage Fradel to retire, Nevetsecnuac, quickly snuffed out (blew) the two candle lights, leaving only one.

“All right… Good… I will go rest then. “Fradel, inwardly overjoyed to have his brother with him for another day, lethargically rose from his seat and, after divesting his outer suit coat, climbed under the covers of the bed.


FRADEL

"I look forward to exchanging more info…" His voice trailed to silence for, no sooner had his head touched the pillow than he sank instantly into a deep slumber.



Nevetsecnuac subsequently following Fradel's lead, had also gone to bed. The r
oom at present enveloped in pitch darkness and tranquil air (silence) permeating throughout now that the storm outside had subsided, it became highly conducive to sleep yet sleep averted Nevetsecnuac. Laying on his back (reposing) perfectly still till small hours, his mind enumerated (reckoned, listed) every possible circumstance, hoping to ensure (secure) Fradel's safety, as well, exempt Fradel from suspicion of conspiracy, for Nevetsecnuac did not wish to have on his conscience, another purge of the Scholars. Only after Nevetsecnuac had resolved every variance of peril (risk, hazard), did he closed his eyes to gain some rest, but by then it was too late, the cock's crow outside announced the arrival of a new day.

The help downstairs was already, heard, stirring; quietly Nevetsecnuac rose from his bed, washed up, dressed, then exited the room. Nevetsecnuac informed the innkeeper of their intention to stay for an additional day and left with them the instructions that Fradel presently was not disturbed.  Then he went to the stable to check on the horses.

 It was late morning, long after Nevetsecnuac had breakfasted and taken a ride to survey the countryside that Fradel awoke.  During the course of the day, they both rode the safe pathways that Nevetsecnuac had found and talked at length as Nevetsecnuac's ingenious plan was unfolded.


NEVETSECNUAC

Fortunately, as apt precaution, both had given false (synonym) names when they had sought lodgings (and registered), as well, refrained from divulging their travel plans to the very inquisitive Innkeeper, the night before.  Later still, Nevetsecnuac had learned, by conversing with the help, that by some good fortune they had taken the roundabout route to Fradel's destination, the Provincial Capital of Toren.  This road first bypassed the town of Monter and was not as frequented as the other.  Accordingly, Fradel was instructed to, upon reaching Monter, claim that he had taken the more direct route; this way the incriminating evidence (clue) of their being seen together at the inn, would hence be missed (concealed, overlooked) by the future probable (likely) investigators overseeing Fradel's case.

Rising at dawn the next day they left the inn.  After a full day’s ride at dusk stopping at the secluded spot, they set up camp.  Repast quickly concluded, as an added precaution their personal apparel worn at the inn and on the road leading there, was quickly consigned to the flames and they both donned scholar's garments.  Of course, Nevetsecnuac now carried all of Fradel's important papers on his person as well as, on Fradel's insistence, the special brush and ink pad, though the prince felt it would be of limited use.

Returning to the fork in the road, they then took the alternate, more direct route.  At a significant location they dismounted and buried Lord Asger's sword, for either of them to retrieve later.  This was necessary as Nevetsecnuac would most undoubtedly be searched at the city gate.



It was also determined that, in order to enforce the deception, they must also exchange their steeds.

His heart laden with misgivings, Fradel watched Fiery Comet's defiance, how he neighed, trotted and shook his head wildly as Nevetsecnuac led the horse by the reins towards him.  Halting a few feet away, Nevetsecnuac stroked Fiery Comet's mane and patiently whispered his brief instructions into the defiant animal's ear until the stallion nodded his head in assent.

How remarkable! Fradel mused.  Can a beast truly be that intelligent?

Surmising Fradel's thoughts, Nevetsecnuac rejoined with a smile as he handed over the reins, "He's like no other, Fradel.  Rest assured, in compliance with my wishes he'll curb his temper and carry you safely to your destination.  When in doubt you may rely on his instincts.  He will deliver you from all danger."

Half convinced; Fradel nodded.

When all had been said and done, the two embraced one last time as brothers and bid an emotional farewell to each other.

Still apprehensive about riding such a magnificent war horse, Fradel braced himself and climbed into the saddle.  Remarkably, just as Nevetsecnuac had assured him it would be, Fiery Comet trotted in a manner and at a speed befitting Fradel's own, more domesticated, gelding.  When a sudden gust of wind rose up to snatch Fradel's scholar's cap off of his head this intelligent animal halted instantly, without receiving any orders, and stood perfectly still until Fradel had dismounted, retrieved his cap.  When Fradel returned to mount him again, he noted the partially dried line of tears under the horse's eyes.  Shaking his head in disbelief, he put his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself back into the saddle.

With longing in his own heart, he then looked back and sought out the consistent form of his new brother, no more than a speck in the distance.  His eyes were soon obscured by tears, and, with blurred vision, he turned his head back in the direction of the road, not knowing that the distant figure stayed with them, just on the horizon, until dusk.

 

(END OF SECTION 12)

                                                                                       ~


Friday, 1 November 2024

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RESCUE - SECTION 9

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RESCUE - SECTION 9

(THE CONCLUSION OF THE RESCUE)

 

Silently, Teuquob sat in the place Stark had indicated to catch her breath. Before her, like a magnificent painting, stretched out as far as the eye could see, the vast expanse of undulating peaks, the tallest of which had their crowns haloed with white, floating clouds. Serpentine rivers etched their paths down into deep valleys, disappearing at times under the veil of mist that shrouded them in deep mystery.  Flocks of birds flying in their designated direction decorated the azure sky.




“How peaceful it is here.”  Teuquob, despite herself, heaved a deep sigh.

Stark gazed at her for a moment without replying, “Everything will be all right,” in the end he said, reassuringly.

But in an unexpected turn this brought renewed grief to Teuquob. Unable to contain her emotions, the furrows on her forehead deepened and she burst into tears. Alarmed, Stark moved at once to comfort her, offering his handkerchief. “Females cry so easily;” With a melancholy smile he said, “surely it can’t be as bad as all that?”

“I’m sorry.”  She dried her eyes. “Here, with you, I shouldn’t cry.”  She forced a faint smile to her lips then dropped her head and murmured, “I wish nothing more than to unburden myself to you; but how can I be sure after you hear the facts, you won’t hate me.”

“Whatever do you mean, my dear? Oh, child say what you will, I promise I will not hate you, not ever.”  Teuquob was touched by Stark’s soft gaze and empathetic words, giving her the courage to long at last voice what was oppressing (harrying) her heart.

“Oh, sir, I can no longer endure with such uncertainty and such falsehood.”  She had too much respect for Stark to allow this deception to continue any longer and she looked up, resolved now to confess, to tell him everything. “You have been kinder to me than my own kin. Fearful, though, as I am of losing your affection and respect, still I must dare profess that I am not what I earlier claimed to be. In truth, I am but an unworthy, disobedient daughter of His Highness Murong Di of Kontu. Only, born under an unlucky star, I have never basked in the warm, protective grace of His Majesty. Subjected to scorn, I was forced to endure habitual, contemptuous, and disdainful….”  Her voice had shaken with emotion before dropping off, as tears once more glistened in her eyes; for anew, she was torn by conflicting feelings (sentiments).

Repressing the urge to intervene, Stark sat motionless and gazed at Teuquob in thoughtful silence.

After a time, her composure regained, she then professed to Stark the summary of how she was raised (educated); but temporarily withheld (omitted) the circumstance of her birth, as it was too painful for her to recollect (call to mind). “On my fifteenth birthday, when His Majesty decreed that I’d be wed to Lord Hedenko...”

“Not the Overlord Deng Hedenko?” Stark interrupted Tequob in surprise.

“You know of him, sir?”

“I most certainly do.”  How could your father, how could His Majesty, in all good conscience condemn you to such an odious fate? Stark wanted to inquire, but restrained himself, instead giving her a brief explanation of how, when he visited Kontu in his teens, he had come to learn of the Overlord’s exploits from his esteemed teacher and host. The surname of which, when disclosed, resolved an earlier dilemma for Teuquob. Clearly fate had played a big part in bringing Stark and her to this present circumstance. With this notion, hope sprung anew in her heart.

“Perhaps, then, you do understand my plight,” she smiled, reassured, “for long since my heart has been ill at ease as to how I may best explain this to you. But sir, my own life is of little consequence to me, and this was not the reason for my flight. My action was (determined) born out of necessity, a daughter’s duty to her mother’s soul.”  Then, by degrees, Teuquob unfolded the entire truth: the story of her mother’s life, beginning with her mother Princess Lueling’s tragic tale, as it was told to her by her nanny Shutizan; next, she divulged  Hedenko’s notorious, more recent exploits, and the actual reason for her escape.

“You were quite correct in acquiescing with the wishes of your respected nurse.” Stark nodded in approval when Teuquob had reached that point of her story (narrative). “Shutizan is to be commended for her loyalty, farsightedness and clear thinking.”  Stark was also fatalistic in his philosophy of life and believed that much of everything was pre-ordained at one’s birth. Hence, he stressed further that all Teuquob had done was to follow her destiny.

His understanding words dispelled at once the gloomy, oppressive clouds that had so long stifled her soul, and instead, ushered in the fresh spring rain. Tears of gratitude now flowed ceaselessly from her eyes. Stark, his heart pained by compassion, embraced Teuquob as a father would a daughter, offering her solace. As she burrowed her face into his vest her tears rolled like pearls down the front of the garment.

 How difficult it is to console young girls, Stark reflected in exasperation. They are so frail, so emotional. I feel so inadequate at dealing with this. My wife was always better at this than I. His forehead creased, he shut his eyes tight, as the hapless girl’s grief reached the very depths of his soul. Despite his natural reserve, he found himself stroking her hair soothingly.

Darkness had begun to encroach on them as the sun followed its usual path to the western horizon. This provided Stark the opportunity of break and he said, as delicately as he could, “Please try to constrain yourself; besides, we really should be getting back before the sun sets.”

Teuquob, a sensible girl, responded immediately and pulled her head away. Drying her eyes she bashfully asked his forgiveness for her imposition on him in such an informal manner.

“Please, do not be concerned,” he smiled compassionately, “that was no imposition. We are all allowed our moments of frailty now and then. I am only glad that I could afford you some measure of solace.” With the outstretched hand, he then helped her to her feet and together they began their descent of the slope.




As they neared home, Stark suddenly halting, voiced his opinion, “It’s too late in the season now, but perhaps at the start of spring we could undertake the journey to Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple.”

This precipitated fresh tears of gratitude in her eyes. How kind, how sparing Stark was, to be considering such a move in anticipation of her wishes!

“What is this?  Still more tears? My dear child, please stop crying or you will make yourself ill.”

“It’s all my fault, I should have waited,” he ruefully muttered in self-reproach, turning his head away.

“Oh no,” she rushed to counter, “I’m most grateful to you, sir.”  Then, in a most unexpected move, she fell on her knees in front of him and proceeded to thank him most humbly for his kindness and consideration. She had long wished to ask him about the existence and location of just such a place but, feeling that he had done so much for her already, had refrained from doing so.

Overcoming his own surprise, Stark hastily raised her to her feet and stressed that he had long nurtured the idea of visiting “Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple” himself to offer prayers and burn incense to his late Sovereign and ancestors. 

“Your gratitude is unwarranted, my dear since I would have done this anyway for my own sake.  My objective, it seems, fell into accord with yours out of pure coincidence.” 

After a moment’s pause, he sadly added, “I, too, am guilty of neglect,” and his heart over again, flooded with grief.

 

Of course, inwardly she had rightly guessed the true reason for his so-called procrastination; it had to do with protecting Svein. She could note that even now after having committed himself to helping her, inwardly he was torn with disquieting reticence, reluctant as he was to chance their security, by his leaving their well-guarded secret retreat and immersing (personally, physically) with the outside world.

Inwardly in fact, his reasoning was waging war with his sensibilities: Could it be that he had become unduly overly cautious. Surely, after all this time, almost nineteen years, there could be no real danger of spies or henchmen still in pursuit. Even he, the ardent nemesis, in absence of proof, would not be that persistent!

His mood lightened, his voice filled with the renewed vitality of youth, he firmly proclaimed, “Most definitely we will undertake this journey come spring!”  But the words were no sooner out of his mouth, when his face clouded over with concern, “I may have been rush in raising your hopes however, for you may not be up to such an arduous journey.”

“I beg to differ with you, sir. I am strong in physique and even stronger in will.  No journey, however odious, shall deter me from my aim.”

Despite his disagreement, Stark kindly refrained from airing his sound judgment and the projected difficulties they, not just her, needed to master. “All right, we will see what we can do to make the transition and the trek more plausible.  I’m sure that between the two of us we could afford you the necessary measure of security and means of comfort.  However, I feel I must warn you, well in advance, that the proposed journey will be most perilous and taxing an undertaking.”

“Yes sir, I stand warned.” She, suppressing her hopeful exuberance, responded in a mocked, serious tone. Then, with her heart bursting with joy, she quickened her pace to match Stark’s speed.

The vegetation skirting this meandering path was already being draped by the twilight mists. Meanwhile, back at the cabin, Svein was growing increasingly apprehensive over their late return.

Something unforeseen must have happened to offset Stark’s stance of punctuality!

Unable to concentrate hence, he had long since abandoned his studies and restlessly paced (to and from,) the length and breadth of the room, all the while deliberating whether to stay and wait, or simply risk provoking Stark’s scorn by going out in search of them. His rich imagination now an antagonist, most terrible sequential scenes, each more frightening than the next, began to (serially manifest,) unfold in his mind’s eye. In the semi-darkness of the room (with only the fireplace lit), heads bearing the razor-sharp fangs of known predators lunged at him out of the shadows, and then disappeared.





 Oh, I do hope they are all right.  He moaned irritably when the lone wolf’s howl from a distance pierced the still air of the room. He impatiently stamped his foot and turned to face the door. He was about to head out (the door) regardless of consequence, when to his great relief, he heard their approaching footsteps. Exhaling, he quickly rushed over to sit at his desk and pretended to be reading, feigning distraction, when they just then entered the room.

“Such diligence,” came Stark’s bemused remark. “My dear boy, you must have acquired extraordinary night vision, to be able to study so well in the dimly lit room.”

Teuquob hurried to light the lamp at the same time as Svein, sheepishly, also hastened to correct his error. Silently their hands collided, and both jerked it back, blushing.

That night, after Teuquob had retired and Svein had concluded his studies, when both men were relaxing by the fire before going to bed, Stark recounted the afternoon’s events to Svein.  In telling her story (but leaving out the fact she is of royal blood), Stark made specific reference to Lord Hedenko, the man to whom she had been betrothed.

“Since there is political significance in how Deng Hedenko rose to power, I will hence, take pains to extrapolate in detail everything I know of this Lord.”

“When I was residing as a guest at my teacher’s home in Kontu, I heard allusions being made daily to this notorious Lord, but it was not until my tutor filled me in on the details that I fully comprehended the extent of the fear his name generated.

As a young man in his teens, sixteen years old to be exact, Deng Hedenko already towered over seven feet in height. With his massive build, prominent nose, large predatory eyes, and bushy auburn hair of fiery red to match his temper, he already resembled more a demon than a mortal man. Yet, only once from afar I bore witness to his imposing bearing as he rode his black stallion at the fore of his equally impressive military entourage through the main gates on his way to seek audience with King Murong Di.”

Stark thoughtfully leaned back in his chair and took in a few more puffs from his pipe before continuing, “Overlord Deng Hedenko, as he was more appropriately referred to then, was born second in line to an immensely powerful and well-established family in the fifth year of Murong Di’s reign. Deng’s cruelty showed first when he was barely seven years of age. Even at that early age he was contending for power and aspired to his elder brother’s title. He dared his brother to a swimming match in the icy river. It was a very frigid day in mid-winter and the temperature had already dipped below freezing. When the elder boy succumbed to the cold and stood on the brink of death, Deng cruelly let him expire, and only then made a feeble pretense of affecting a rescue. Hedenko himself was known for boasting of this, which is why it had reached my teacher’s ears.

“With one obstacle eliminated, there remained a more difficult one for Deng to overcome. Fortunately for Hedenko, however, his father Lord Dazong Hedenko had wizened too late to his son’s insatiable thirst for power. With due consequence, the old Lord’s attempts to subdue Deng and bring him under the control of his authority resulted in failure. By withstanding the cruel measures and punishments inflicted on him under the guise of discipline, Deng was able to increase his will power and stamina by degrees until even the father had cause to fear his own son. Deng Hedenko’s popularity, cultivated with other members of the family and influential friends, and his growing skill in military strategy and martial combat was met by the father with due apprehension.


04- Lord Dazong Hedenko


“Fearing his own early demise, the old Lord Dazong Hedenko now contemplated conferring the hereditary title to his third son, overstepping Deng’s right of succession. But, before this could be affected (achieved), the younger brother succumbed to a fatal accident. Worse, the father could find no proof to substantiate his suspicion of Deng. Feeling his life was now in mortal danger, the old Lord Dazong Hedenko named his own younger brother Teron Hedenko as heir apparent and conspired with him to attain (beget) Deng’s demise; but the old Lord’s favorite wife, (for polygamy was an accepted norm there), who had special affections (fondness) for Deng Hedenko, betrayed her husband and warned Deng of the impending danger.”

“Sprung from the trap, Deng fled to the capital, and to safety. His first act was to seek an audience with Prime Minister Kwonsu Non, who bore Lord Dazong Hedenko an old grudge. Via circumspect bribery, Deng managed to ingratiate himself with the Prime Minister. Then, through P. M’s patronage, he was favorably presented at court to His Majesty Murong Di.  Deng’s striking bearing and his outstanding ability quickly won him the favor of the court. Despite his youthful age of seventeen, he was appointed as the commander of an Imperial force of battalion and, promptly dispatched to settle the border skirmish at Sikumu.   With deadly precision, in no time at all he annihilated the overwhelming forces of the enemy, recovered the lost territory, and returned victorious to the capital.


GENERAL DENG HEDENKO

 For this stroke of military genius, he was awarded the rank of General. In addition, he was presented with a fine, black steed from the Imperial stables and, as a special mark of favor from His Majesty, a luxurious court garment.

“In subsequent years, Deng Hedenko, gaining command of larger and larger armies, won countless unparalleled victories. He was strict with his officers and fighting men and, quite unbending in his insistence on rigorous discipline as well as, absolute adherence to military rules and regulations. However, he was also fair in his treatment of good men and most generous in his rewards to those that deserved his recognition. With his fair distribution of the wealth won during his conquests, he won the unquestioning loyalty of his men. His words became law throughout the whole army and overrode the instructions from the Minister of War and the Prime Minister. There was an unspoken, unwritten conviction (belief, opinion) that the army’s loyalty to Deng Hedenko even superseded an allegiance to Sovereign Murong Di.

“As General Deng Hedenko’s fame spread everywhere, his father’s earnest warnings to His Majesty about Deng’s ambitious and treasonous nature (fell on deaf ears) were never heard.

“Most faithful, stanch subject, Lord Dazong Hedenko’s subsequent entreaties, for the king to curtail Deng’s power before it was too late or, more aptly, put Deng to death, were also effectively intercepted by the Prime Minister and his powerful clique at court.”

“In the end the old Lord personally undertook the long and arduous journey to the Capital and put the matter before the king.  Through persistence, and the help of the few faithful friends he had remaining, Lord Dazong Hedenko eventually succeeded in gaining a private audience, and presented his admonitions with great zeal. But, far from being commended for his loyalty, he was rebuked by the Sovereign for harboring unwarranted suspicions and for promoting baseless slanders against his own son.  The old Lord left the capital a broken man.

“Growing in influence and power, Deng eventually reached the limits of insolence when he dared to openly insult the Crown Prince. But, since Deng was the most valued Field Marshal of the Imperial forces, and his talents most sorely needed at that time, the Monarch overlooked this sleight, as well as his other numerous crimes.

“Through Deng’s victories, King Murong Di had gained those territories he had always craved, and, in a noticeably short time, all the borders of Kontu were, for the first time ever, secured.  With the antagonistic kingdoms that had previously posed a serious threat to his realm all, without exception, vanquished and their strongholds burnt to the ground, Kontu’s Sovereign Murong Di’s absolute dominion (and lasting reign) was affirmed.

“In time however, with no more wars to wage, conflicting principles and varied internal politics, despite cloaked ambitions, nevertheless, ignited serious disagreements between liege and vassal. As the dissention between the two worsened (intensified), the king now began to distrust Deng’s increasing political power and to question his professed loyalty. Moreover, Murong Di, now regretful of his past oversight, perfunctorily dismissed the Prime Minister’s ordinarily compelling lexis and opinions and heeded instead Deng’s enemies and Lord Dazong Hedenko’s forewarnings.

“Understanding that, with the nation at peace, the Field Marshall was therefore expendable, Deng sought a way out of this decidedly perilous predicament (situation).

 As the saying goes, ‘When the game is caught, the good bow is put away.’”

 “Moving swiftly, before the likely rival faction mustered (mobilized) an offensive against him; Deng Hedenko resigned his commission and asked leave from His Majesty to return to his home state. 

“The Sovereign could not afford to appear openly ungrateful to this national hero, and so, Deng’s request was promptly granted. Secretly, Murong Di had hoped that the old Lord would do the deed (finish the job) for him and dispose of Deng once and for all.

“Lord Dazong Hedenko’s ardent foe, Prime Minister Kwonsu Non meanwhile, harboring his own sinister designs, keenly supported the monarch’s decision, whilst, adroitly silencing those who planned to enunciate a warning against letting such a rapacious fiend loose in the countryside.


Prime Minister of Kontu -Kwonsu Non

True to form, just as Prime Minister had anticipated, shortly after Deng’s arrival at the estate of Quinan, the old Lord Dazong Hedenko was swiftly, ruthlessly killed (cut down) and the blame put onto unknown assassins. Subsequently, two culprits were captured and, under torture supervised by Deng himself, confessed to the crime. Both were promptly, brutally (horribly) executed immediately after the trial. The case, thus quickly settled, gave the Chief Justice (of the High Court) no opportunity to call an investigation.

The first part of reprisals (retaliation, revenge) now over, Deng moved against, his once beloved uncle, Teron Hedenko.

As it were, the very moment the news of Deng’s impending return to Quinan had reached his uncle, out of fear and, to allay Deng’s suspicions, (or ire,) Teron had officially (formally) relinquished his claim to the succession and furthermore, staged a falling-out with his elder brother Dazong Hedenko. Underestimating Deng’s vindictive and brutal nature, upon Deng’s arrival, Teron then, reminiscing about past joyful family events and his lone, doting treatment of Deng- proceeded to curry as much favor as possible with his nephew.

Despite the assassination of Lord Dazong, Deng’s sustained amicable, respectful conduct towards his uncle, seduced (lulled) Teron into a false sense of security and he, albeit erroneously, further lowered his shields (safeguards).”

“Teron was elated when after the required period of bereavement, Deng, concealing his contempt, courteously invited his uncle to a lavish reconciliation banquet.

“Deng wined and dined his uncle with a cold smile on his lips throughout the ceaseless servings of alcoholic-beverages, rare exotic fruits, steamed edible plants, huge portions of venison and scrumptious (delectable) variety of outlandish victuals.


Teron Hedenko


“The after-dinner nerve-racking, bellicose martial entertainment, however, was ensued by unexpected, dire revelations from Deng’s paid witnesses, who brought forth false proof and a trumped-up charge of treason against Teron Hedenko.  The Uncle had not even digested his food before he was brutally hauled in chains to a damp dungeon, tortured, then summarily executed for his crime.  Once more, the case was so clean-cut that the High court was rendered powerless to indict Deng; as the witnesses themselves, had disappeared with as much rapidity as the accused.

“Quinan, which encompasses a remote, mountainous region was the farthest state from Capital. Burdened with prevalent, severe weather and harsh topography, the hardened citizens, herders, woodsmen or hunters, had always been difficult to rule. On the plus side, the region landed itself to producing the finest warriors in the land.

After the consolidation of his power in Quinan, Deng engineered some border troubles on his land and, using this reason, proceeded to create a new, invincible army in his state.

“When this new development became known in the Capital, the king sent a secret envoy into Quinan to keep surveillance (watch) on Deng and return with his findings. Expecting such a move, Deng hid most of his force in the mountains and provided numerous false reports for the envoy. Favorably impressed, the envoy returned to court and cleared Deng of all charges.”

 “With time, Deng grew ever more savage in nature and many of his enemies equated him to the fierce carnivores that plagued his mountainous state.

This predatory Lord had remained fond of wars and bloodshed all his life.

“It was said that, when he could not conduct a war, he would butcher men just for the sheer pleasure of it. He, true to his innate nature, remained just as fanatical about regulations as when he had commanded the Imperial army.

He enforced his unvarying, harsh edicts, with equivalent rigidity, regardless of stature or age- on the military, close kin and, on the entire civilian population.”

“All this while, many of the ablest soldiers who had served under Deng had, intermittently defected from Imperial force and re-enlisted in Quinan. With such an impressive force under his command, Deng Hedenko next embarked on a campaign of bloodshed to make Quinan the biggest and strongest state within Kontu.

“The first set of wars was waged on the neighboring kingdoms, Kwan and Ezaks, extending Deng’s holdings further to the north and north-west. After his power in these border regions was consolidated, Deng then looked to the neighboring states in Kontu, which stood between him and the Capital.

His ruthless exploits by then were so well known that just by seeing his invincible army poised at the gate, was sufficient cause to frighten these lords to capitulate (surrender) or, to strive for an alliance with the Overlord.

 “In this way, by degrees, Deng Hedenko succeeded in usurping good portion of the country from right under the very nose of Murong Di. In fact, by the time he was thirty-one, Overlord Deng had directly controlled over one-third of the Kingdom of Kontu and had secretly annexed another quarter.

 “This dominance was attained, via effective manipulation of many of the influential ministers at the Imperial court who had the King’s ear; and, by maintaining rigidly enforced control over engorged state of Quinan; which was ruled by the harshest administrative governing body, under sole authority (command, rule) of Overlord Deng Hedenko.”

 

“While all these factors were adding up, Sovereign Murong Di’s attention was instead, directed to the more urgent threat (pressing matter) from Ircon, on the eastern border region, one of the first states formerly subdued by Hedenko, which at present had again risen in power to war against Kontu.

“Hedenko had earlier warned Murong Di of the strength of the conquered country and had counseled the annihilation of the entire Royal Family.  The king, however, had coveted the Third Princess of Ircon, and later made her his fifth wife, leaving the Royal Family in power and registering Ircon as an independent tributary state.

“Too late, His Majesty Murong Di regretted his ignoring Hedenko’s warning of just this possibility. He would have been surely lost had he not still had the backing of Imperial army and some powerful and staunch loyal ministers in Court.

Compounding this mistake with another one still later however, he, gave the danger from Ircon a far greater precedence over looming (imminent) one from Quinan, and refused to recall Hedenko to court to give account for his, by now well-documented, treasonous activities. This slight chance, sole window of opportunity closed, by the time the injudicious monarch wizened to be concerned over Deng’s invincible power, the internal strife, and corruption at court had permanently eroded his ability to effectively deal with Deng.

“No doubt, numerous assassins were covertly dispatched to Quinan, but their attempts were all rendered ineffectual in that tightly controlled military state.

“Deng Hedenko, for the three years prior to Teuquob’s escape, had permanently absented himself from court. His emissaries still assured the muddle-headed king of his loyalty to the throne and provided sound reasons for Deng’s accumulation of arsenals. Nevertheless, with Deng Hedenko a permanent thorn in his flesh, it appears Murong Di had finally resorted to his last recourse, that of allying himself with Overlord Hedenko. Informed covertly of licentious Hedenko’s not so secret desire to be wed to the most beautiful girl in the entire kingdom, The Sovereign had issued an edict, along with the invitation, to appease Lord Deng Hedenko.  Although, I suspect, this was but a ruse (ploy) to lure Hedenko to the capital and there to arrest him and execute him for treason.  Teuquob was the bait to lure this fierce Overlord into the snare.”

“Judging from Overlord Deng’s abilities, however, he would have accepted this proposal only to have sprung some sort of trap of his own, allowing him to usurp the throne.”

Stark finally concluded his narrative with this most plausible prediction. Much of what he had said about the situation (state of affairs) in Kontu reminded both about the current history of their own country, and both Stark and Svein lapsed into silence, their thoughts converging on one unspoken name: Zakhertan Yozdek.

                                                                            ~



Winter soon showed its bitter face, with unending storms and bone-chilling cold temperatures. Added to this was the danger from ferocious predators, those that did not hibernate, now contended for the scarce food still left on the mountain. So, all unnecessary activities, like Stark and Teuquob’s excursions into the woods, were postponed, while the daily martial exercises continued as before in the clearing.

On this night, like so many other frigid winter nights, nestled in the warm comfort of their living room, Svein poured over his books, while Teuquob engaged herself with needlework and Stark, seated in his chair, quietly read a favorite passage from a book.  Only the howl of the winds outside, in harmony with the roar of the wild beasts, intruded thoughtlessly on the silence of the room. When Stark distractedly looked up from his book Teuquob, misconstruing his pondering (considering carefully) as break in concentration, impetuously voiced her request, “May I trouble you, sir, with, perhaps, my unreasonable hope?”  Stark nodded his assent.

 “Sir, I would be most honored if you would consent to impart to me the (teachings) requisite mastery of the “Literate” calligraphy, so that I may be able to decipher the ancient scrolls and benefit from the antiquated poetry and prose that are in your keeping. Since it is my wish to remain in your honorable country indefinitely, may I, therefore, trouble you with this supplication?”

What purpose would it serve other than to confuse your mind? Stark reflected before finally giving his reticent response.

 “Since only certain times are allocated to education, are you certain you can spare the time from your present linguistic studies? The future would be a more apt time (perhaps) for such additional explorations.”

“I can achieve both. In this way also, curious as I am of the beautiful, exceptional works, I shall not repeatedly trouble you for the translations.” she pressed in her eagerness.

“Perhaps it can be done.” Stark teased “But first, we must ask Svein if he would not object to you sharing additional paper, ink and writing utensils.”

Svein, delighted at this opportunity of spending more time with her, raised his head from his books and meeting his uncle’s eyes, nodded to him in the affirmative.

Of course, you would, foolish boy. Stark looked away to ponder on the concern.

 For a time, he remained reticent, worried about the unnecessary distraction, but instead, reverting his gaze back on Svein, he voiced this query, “Are you sure that it would not be an imposition?”

Svein could hardly contain his bursting delight; so, you are not entirely opposed to it, and once more gave his ready consent.

From that time onwards, each night sharing the same lamplight, Teuquob sat opposite to Svein and, with due diligence, followed Stark’s instructions in reading and writing in the ancient dialects. These times spent in such proximity were not however without their measure of restraint and discomfort for Teuquob and Svein. Feeling the way, they did for each other; it took great deal of effort and willpower from each to direct and maintain their concentration on their studies. Ultimately, (at the right time) Teuquob was encouraged by Stark to only speak in the Wenjenkun’s language.  Her persistence in using the unfamiliar tongue, despite her inadequacies of speech and discernible frustrations (such as flushed cheeks) when she could not readily recall the words she wished to use endeared her still more to them.

Over time, despite their reserve and propriety of conduct, Svein and Teuquob were now growing more familiar with each other. Svein could not resist teasing her from time to time, making her more flustered or flushed with fury. This innocent interplay, when done in times other than the study period, was overlooked, and even silently condoned by Stark.

 In a noticeably brief time Teuquob marshaled enough of the old language that enabled her to read a line or two of their most treasured poems or prose.  Thirsting for more, she continued to pour over her studies with unending enthusiasm and delight.

                                                                                    ~

 

(Epic story of “Legend of Nevetsecnuac” resumes in the next post, “The trip to the Monastery”- Section 1)